#he knows how to ask properly when his kitty's nesting

[mischievous-thunder]

Logie Bear's nesting btw

[fishedeyelenz]

Fishy!! Fish fish! It’s me! The, the long anon…? I mean yeah that works lol. Oooough fishy, OOOOUUUGGH…..I just went through my fourth surgery on my bloody knee and it’s still not fixed and correct and it hurts and oooooough….im about to RIP my leg off and THROW IT!! Or bite it off. Or…man I don’t know, shuck my kneecap like an oyster or SOMETHING.

So! I obviously cannot help but wonder….how would our dearest little twerp Billy handle an s/o with physical health problems? I have MANY issues, oh yes many, I’m very gifted in fact! Very talented. (But for real I’m actually okay) I’m sorry, I know this is like, super specific but…well, I have many physical limitations, I have POTS, neuropathy, complex regional pain syndrome, EDS, my stomach organ doesn’t work properly and I throw up my food when I eat unless I lay down and try to sleep, or am very still while laying down, just, lots of things, I’ve had to be in a wheelchair for long periods of time many times, saying all of this to give you an idea how I’m rather…a weak individual overall, but I love to play and roughhouse I just gotta, be careful and I can’t do a lot at a time lol. Which is hard for me sometimes cause I’m EXTREMELY strong willed when it comes to just, grinning and bearing it, an basically am willing to kill myself from pushing myself too much cause I wanna bloody do what I want!

Okay so, how would Billy be with someone like that? Someone like me? Someone who has (lots of) leg troubles or who has heart problems or maybe you can’t be too too rough with cause of chronic pain? Would HE be the one too scared to mess with me? For fear of hurting me? Would he understand? I have my own ideas and hopes, but I freaking love the way you write him, so I gotta ask!

I wonder if it would make him almost…more willing to show himself sooner…cause I wonder if like…should Billy have an object of affection that he pines for and stalks from afar in his little attic nest, but his object of affection if one who kinda…has to limp and hobble or roll around in a chair and is slow and kind of sickly at times, I can’t help but wonder if he’d almost work himself up wanting to help, in his mind, in his own billy way? Like in his mind he kind of mother hens from afar, with the way he thinks, and the fact that the s/o is, in his mind, weaker than him, for once he could take care of them, HE is the healthy one for once! HE is the strong one this time! HE’S the normal one, and it’s something he never even knew could happen in anyway! Like, I bet it would make him puff up his chest with pride by like, sneaking an extra blanket on them or something small, cause to him it’s it’s HUGE, HUGE that he of all people could actually offer something to someone! Something we all know he doesn’t think is possible!

Ooough I’m sorry,y mind is CURSED with far too many ideas and scenarios that are too gentle and sweet!! I think of all kinds of evil disgusting things…y’all would be horrified. *mushy loving sentimental things*

AND OH TO BE A KITTY WITH HIM. He can bite me with love all he wants, cause I DO THAT! I’m constantly biting my parents and siblings and nieces and nephews! It really is a love language I’m telling you. *naws on him like a chew toy*

ALSO I CANT WHISTLE!! I want to so badly!! He could teach me!! I bet he’d love trying to teach someone something, and we could laugh at how bad I am at it! But I’ve been practicing, I can….almost….ALMOST make a whistle sound…just…not…YET

Hello!! Finally tumbrl let me answer this ask </3 sorry about the delay. I hope you are doing well, and you're recovery is going good!! I hope your knee is managing to heal :( As for Billy... yeah I do think he would show himself sooner to you!! Especially if he develops an obsession on you, cause alas, relationships with him would start off as obsessions </3 But yeah, he would take notice of how you appear to be sick more often than not, and at first it let's him put his guard down around you for a bit. If you're weak, it means you can't hurt him, right? But as time moves on and he develops a genuine fondness for you (a thing he thought he wasn't capable of) he would start trying to take care of you from afar. Leaving your meds close by so you aways have them at hand, adjusting the temperature of your room while you sleep, small stuff like that. I actually think that he wouldn't even reveal himself to you willingly, rather you catch him one day acccidentaly while he's trying to help you from the shadows. A terrifying moment for you both, but you'll laugh about it later.

And yes, he would feel personally responsible for you, and would look out to aways make you feel good or better. Maybe it would actually push him to seek help, go to a therapist maybe, so he could take even better care of you. Cause I can see him having a rough start in your relationship, with him being unstable making him isolate himself from you. One of the main things he fears is of course hurting you, from being too rough with you. I guess you could help help each other with that, you helping him take care of his mental health, him taking care of your physical health.

AND TO BE A KITTY WITH HIM!! It might take time for you to roughhouse together, since his fear of being too rough with you, but when he learns ro better control himself and trust himself, he might just bite back.

And keep on trying whistling!! It took me two years to learn, but in the end it all payed off!! Billy would definitely try to help too hehehe!!

Anyways!! Thanks for the ask long anon!! Took me a while to reply, but I finally got it out!! Hehhehe

[purplecraze]

Beauty and the Beast AU 12

orange-plane-boy — 08/29/2021 11:44 PM

"Oh i see..." he murmured

"So the merchants come here just once in a month?"

purplecraze — 08/29/2021 11:44 PM

He nods. "yes..."

orange-plane-boy — 08/29/2021 11:45 PM

"Mh..."

He took another bite

"You think they manage to come in time even with the snow? It dosent snow often here"

purplecraze — 08/29/2021 11:47 PM

"They won't come up until the castle walls. There's a checkpoint I can see from here where they drop it off. I can easily retrieve it from there with magic."

orange-plane-boy — 08/29/2021 11:49 PM

"I see...Nh..." He looked off

"You think you will be fine tomorrow? Would be shitty if i go to some epic quest to uncurse you and then you die of fever as soon im gone" he smirked

purplecraze — 08/29/2021 11:50 PM

"..........."

If he'd say no, what then? He can't expect the boy to stay for another month, it's unreasonable, and too risky... He couldn't...

"I'll be just fine. I've lived through worse."

orange-plane-boy — 08/29/2021 11:52 PM

"Oh ok--" He murmured

Oh Narancia chill, he told you more than once he likes to being alone; also you are basically a pest right now that is living in his house rent free. Also you need to focus on how to fix the curse, no time to loose

purplecraze — 08/29/2021 11:53 PM

well, he only told you once. and he was lying....

orange-plane-boy — 08/29/2021 11:54 PM

He got kicked out when he was 6, he has some issues ok?

Narancia finished to eat and looked outside the window

"...Can you show me how you make the birdy? I read something about it in the book but i want to see"

purplecraze — 08/29/2021 11:57 PM

"............" Fugo drank the orange juice, slowly, wanting to enjoy it.

"Sure, that's fine......" he weaved his hand in a certain way and a bird showed sitting on top of his fingers.

orange-plane-boy — 08/29/2021 11:58 PM

"Ah?? Just like that??" He said looking at the bird

"Why you picked a swallow?"

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:00 AM

He flicked his fingers twice and it flew off to nestle in Narancia's hair. "I can do various small creatures. But it's what you reminded me off."

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:00 AM

"Oh??" He giggled

"Thats why? Really?"

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:01 AM

He nodded. Though he didn't add in what that implied and how it symbolized freedom and such.

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:04 AM

"Thats funny because i really like birds!" He giggled

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:04 AM

"That so? why?"

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:08 AM

"I just think they are neat! I mean they can fly, and thats aready a bonus, but they are also more smart than people think of! Tou know that crows can recognize faces? And if you hurt one they will tell about you to his family and so they will avoid you...or try to peak your eyes, depeends how close you are to the nest- also they can play with eachother and if trained they can even lean how to use sicks to grab objet to far!"

No planes? Bird nerd then

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:10 AM

Fugo properly heard him out as the boy rambled about his obsession. the bird hopped on his shoulder and started changing form as it crawled down, until it curled up as a cat on his lap.

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:12 AM

He gasped

"A kitty!!"

He petted the animal, and also showed how easly was to catch his attention...

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:13 AM

Fugo chuckled, noticing how easily the other was distracted. the cat purred content.

"...........err..."

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:14 AM

"Mh?" he asked as he played with the toebeans of the cats

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:14 AM

"........" he looked off. "You don't have to stay in the room tonight.. just so you know..."

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:16 AM

"Oh cool!" He nodded

Too bad most of the times he got out was to see what fugo was doing as a  monster...

"You should catch up some sleep tonight tho"

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:17 AM

he laughed a bit. "My sleeping pattern is a mess already, so I doubt I can......

uhm.......can you-......... will you s-...stay with me? Tonight?" he didn't look at him.

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:18 AM

"Oh- Yeah why not?" He smiled "What you want to do?"

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:20 AM

"uh....." seems like he had no plan what so ever.

'uhm...err....the..the stars are-...you can see the stars well from the tower.. if you'd like.."

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:22 AM

awkard...and cute

"Sure!" He smiled nodding "Then, rest a bit for now, and dont worry about the mess, you sounded chill tonight so i can fix on my own if you broke something!"

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:23 AM

he shook his head. "It's a small effort, really..... you'd want to see the dome again, I'm sure."

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:23 AM

He giggled "Mh...Maybe i do" he admitted "You sure you dont want to try go in?"

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:24 AM

"............" he closed his eyes. "......mm...... maybe tonight..."

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:29 AM

"Yay!" He smiled "You sure will be better than me at figure out what to do"

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:33 AM

"....? figuring out what?"

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:34 AM

"Dunno, i was looking if mom left something there that maybe could help.."

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:34 AM

"oh....." he frowned a bit and looked off.

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:36 AM

"Didnt found anything tho...But ehy seems like the smart of the two its you" he giggled

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:38 AM

he sighed for a moment, before changing topics: "That aside, is there anything you'd want to take along tomorrow? Just name it and it's yours."

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:40 AM

"Ah- dunno dude i dont really want to steal your stuff after you made me live here for a week" he laughed "And i still have some of the silverwear of the other day

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:41 AM

"It's not stealing. You are my precious guest, the first in 3 years."

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:42 AM

Precious? he blushed a bit

"W-Well really, is not really fair, i swer i wolunt steal stuff in the first place if i knew someone lived here"

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 12:44 AM

"It's not stealing..." he repeated, more stern. "please consider the offer for tomorrow. "

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:46 AM

"Ok--" he murmred...ok fair maaaybe he would take some stuff uhuh

"Mhh...what you do here anyway? like, how you dont get bored? I saw a lot of books but dosent get boring to just read?"

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 8:27 AM

"It does, yes." he sighed. "though in between rampaging and gaining sleep, not a lot of time remains really.... when I'm sick of books or things are too quiet around, I play the piano. sometimes go for a walk around the perimeters, is why most of the grass is dead around here. and during full moon, I like to watch the stars. I can't, otherwise."

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 12:22 PM

"Oh! Yknow i could get you some new books if you want" He murmured.

Mhh seemed like he really looked forward watching the stars then, Narancia hoped the sky was clear tonight

purplecraze — 08/30/2021 4:39 PM

"oh.... err, alright. I'll leave the selecting to you then. but don't trouble yourself, books are rather expensive..."

orange-plane-boy — 08/30/2021 5:35 PM

He pouted, ignoring him "isnt any book you want? Like dunno a sequel of something that you colunt get in those years??"

purplecraze — 08/31/2021 12:35 AM

Fugo shook his head. "there's nothing I'd want, really....."

He paused, as if hesitating.

".........Sand... a bottle of sand. From the roads you've walked.

I don't care about the stories in books, but.... I'd want to hear your stories. The things you experience along your way.... and I'll remember them whenever I see the bottle.

I still don't know a lot about you, and I understand if you'd rather not tell what things have been like until now, but.....uhm...from here on....err..." realizing how awkward and embarrassing that request was, his voice died down more and more.

orange-plane-boy — 08/31/2021 12:39 AM

"Nh...Hold up got an idea! if i send letters to the merchants they could give it to you every month! So i could tell you how the curse breaking curse its going!" He said happily

purplecraze — 08/31/2021 12:41 AM

"err... yeah, that could work. " though not quite what he wanted... "It'll be a good practice for your writing too."

orange-plane-boy — 08/31/2021 12:43 AM

Sorry Fugo, you are stuck with a kitty/golden retriver with a birdy brain.

"Also...If you like see the starts so much; once we find how to uncurse you, we could go to the beach and see them for there!"

purplecraze — 08/31/2021 12:46 AM

sigh. "One step at a time...."

orange-plane-boy — 08/31/2021 12:47 AM

"Sure! We will try the dome fist then!" he said happily

purplecraze — 08/31/2021 12:48 AM

He nodded a bit timid, lost in thought.

orange-plane-boy — 08/31/2021 12:51 AM

As the other was thinking, Nara started to pile the empty plates

"Y'know; its been a whole lot since i had a friend, is nice to chat with someone of your own age"

purplecraze — 08/31/2021 11:38 PM

"....?" Fugo shook up from his thoughts upon those words.

He didn't quite know how to reply. He'd want to ask if that's really how he saw him, as he couldn't quite believe it. but he didn't want to give him the feeling like he doesn't consider him a friend, or that he doesn't want to or never thought of the possibility.

"err.....yes..... you've had friends before?" seemed safe enough to ask, though there was a small jealous undertone.

orange-plane-boy — 08/31/2021 11:42 PM

"Kinda...? When you are a kid and homeless often you and up in those...circles? I guess? Where a bunch of adults use kids to pickpocket people, yknow, one is a bait and the other steal their stuff, and you kinda make friends with the other kids? But the pay is miserable and thr adults have their fun seeing kids fight over a pice of moldy bread, so is a gamble game, a lot of backstabbing...I guess since mom i never had someone that was really close to me"

purplecraze — 08/31/2021 11:58 PM

"I see..... I can imagine a lot of people being fond of you, though. you're very open and sociable.

It must have been difficult, but I'm glad you had some people to rely on.....err.... I hope I can be the same, to you..." he muttered the last part, rather awkward.

orange-plane-boy — 09/01/2021 12:01 AM

"I mean, you saved me from a pack of wolves, im pretty sure that counts" He laughed

"And its ok, could be worst! Mom was with me till i was 10, so when i ended up alone, i was aready too big to be a chimney sweep, so i got lucky! Now that is a horror job"

purplecraze — 09/01/2021 12:04 AM

'just happened to be there' was whispered under his breath. though it was quite far from where he'd usually wonder around.... why did he end up going there?

"really? what's it like? and what kind of jobs did you do?"

orange-plane-boy — 09/01/2021 12:22 AM

"Oh god, luckly i never did, but basically you have to go inside a chimney with just a brush and a rope, the air is full of cinder  if you dont die crushed inside or burned alive by someone that forget that there is a kid inside, you will die like 5 years later of penomuima"

He laughed but it was a pretty dry laught

"Some of the kids that stole with me did it and they looked aweful.

Me? Mhhh well me and mom used to steal and sometimes we would do-" he stopped "She would do magic tricks in the street while i played the harmonica!" He squeaked "why i never thinked about it??"

purplecraze — 09/01/2021 12:27 AM

Fugo's eyebrows shot up. "hoh! how bold! things that could be borderline explained by slide of hand, I take?"

orange-plane-boy — 09/01/2021 12:30 AM

"Nhh yeah, but im a dummy that didnt connecter the points! But when did some of the tricks with the birdy i felt like i saw em before!" He giggled

"She would pull out doves from super tiny boxes and do some sick tricks with fires and so on! But never really explained how..." he giggled

"And its dumb because i was right behind her, playing the harmonica and i never saw how she pulled her tricks!"

purplecraze — 09/01/2021 10:20 PM

"It's not strange for children to believe in magic, nor to give up on those thoughts once you get older. Though for potents, it's best to start as early as possible...

Being a commoner with magic creates some hardships, so I suppose she didn't want you to worry about it."

[chibifox2002]

The Kit's First Nest (A LMK Oc Fic)

This is the first time in a long while since I've written something so sorry if it's bad 😅

This is based on the idea that demons have habits/instincts that make them nest!

((there are some heavy topics in this (death of a family member) so be warned))

------ 

Kit has never nested before.

Not since her mother passed away.

Her father- no, Wang Lei had stopped doing stuff like that after they lost her. Along with actually taking care of her like a father is supposed to, she learned. Kit also had two older sisters, but she didn't really get to see them a whole lot either. The eldest sister was always next to Wang Lei, and the other had practically disappeared on her. Lei said she left on her own, but Kit had a feeling that wasn't the case.

Man, remembering stuff when your past wasn't the best really wasn't that fun of an experience. (Although the closure was nice.)

But despite all of that, Kit wasn't really bothered with never properly nesting before. It was basically being wrapped up in blankets and pillows with somebody from what she could tell when she's seen Pigsy drag MK or Tang into one. Nothing she couldn't do with the plushies she had!

Although she had to admit, something about it did seem pleasant. Being next to someone close to you, doing nothing but enjoying the others company. Sometimes Kit could practically feel the love coming from the nest.

Kit was over at the front of the ship looking at the sky with a very tired Tang. The sun was setting, and she could start to see the stars come out. She loved looking at the stars. They were so gently bright. And she loved looking for the constellations that Tang had shown her.

"Do you see any yet?!"

"Not yet Kit, the sun's still going down so it'll be a little bit before we see any." Tang said chuckling.

She loved this. She loved being with her baba. As well as the rest of her family. The family that taught her how to speak again after they found her. The family that fed her. LOVED her. And wouldn't do anything to harm her.

They sat in silence for a little bit before Kit heard footsteps.

"You two see any yet?"

Kit turned her head to see her papa, Pigsy, walking up to them.

"Again. The sun is still setting. So no." Tang said with a yawn. Pigsy chuckled.

"How about you head to bed Tang, Kittie can show me all the cool constellations she knows."

Tang yawned again. And made his way to he and Pigsy's room. "Alright, goodnight you two."

"Goodnight baba!" Kit yelled back to him, as Pigsy settled next to her.

---

Stars where scattered all over the sky.

Kit had pointed out a few constellations to Pigsy. She hadn't remembered the names, but she easily identified them regardless.

She was looking for another one, when Pigsy cleared his throat.

"Hey kid, I know you don't like talking about back then a whole lot. But can I ask you something?"

Kit paused.

"Sure papa! Ask away!" Kit genuinely didn't mind answering questions about her past family life. The more everyone knew, the more they could understand and help her through whatever challenges from "there" came her way.

"Did... "he", ever nest with you?"

Oh.

She wasn't expecting that question.

"Why do you ask?" Kit asked. Pigsy looked at his hands, which where folded together on the ship's railing. He looked lost in thought for a second before opening his mouth to speak again.

"I've noticed that you look in whenever I got Mk or Tang in one of mine. And I also notice that you never ask to join, so I just assumed that you're weren't comfortable with nesting. But I figured I should ask before assuming stuff."

Kit was silent. Wondering if she should tell Pigsy. She figured it wouldn't be bad. She's told him worse things about her past, and this was pretty chill compared to everything else.

"No... Not really." Kit finally said after her pause. "Not since mom died. I like to think that I got to nest with my family when she was still around, but I wouldn't remember it since I was a baby."

There was silence. Kit looked up to Pigsy, he looked a little upset.

"I don't really mind though! I can always just cuddle up with my plushies!" She quickly said with her hands up. Was what she said bad? She didn't want to upset Pigsy so she hoped what she said helped.

It didn't look like it did.

Pigsy huffed as he pushed himself from the railing.

"Okay. Nope. Come with me."

Kit followed Pigsy towards the rooms. She was confused when he brought her to her room, took all her blankets and pillows off her bed, and places them on the floor.

"Wait here a sec, and change into your PJs." Pigsy left the room and Kit did as she was told and changed into her short sleeved, hot pink night gown.

Pigsy came back after a while in his own pajamas, and with more blankets and pillows. Kit watched in confusion as he began setting up the blankets and pillows into some sort mess. (At least it looked like that to her.)

"Uuuhh papa? What are you doing?" Kit finally asked.

Pigsy didn't respond. He stood up from the "mess" on the ground and walked over to where Kit was standing and took her hand. Then gently led her to the blankets and pillows.

Pigsy then proceeded to lay down in the pile, bringing Kit down with him, and held her in his arms as he started making low (but still kinda loud) rumbling noises that Kit recognized as his purring.

It then clicks in Kit's head. Pigsy had made a nest for her. He was nesting with her. Was she supposed to do something? She felt like she had to do something. She decided to wrap her arms around Pigsy in a hug like he was doing.

This was weird. Was this supposed to be weird? Is this what nesting was? Weird? Kit had no idea how nesting worked and it was probably showing. She thinks back to when she'd see Tang or MK in her place, they looked calm and relaxed. Maybe she should try to be calm? Kit closed her eyes and quietly inhaled and exhaled through her nose to calm herself.

As she felt herself calm down, she caught herself listening to Pigsy's purring. She adjusted herself so she was more comfortable, her head ended up on Pigsy's chest. And through his loud purring she could surprisingly hear Pigsy's heartbeat.

It was strong. Listening to it somehow made her feel safe. Just like how Pigsy had since the first day she met him. He might be loud and come off as grumpy, but Kit felt safest when with Pigsy. Her papa.

He loves her how a father is supposed to love their child. Even though she wasn't his biological daughter.

As she continued to listen to the mix of Pigsy's purrs and heart. Kit felt herself doze off, feeling loved, safe, and thankful she had found her family.

---

Pigsy had his eyes closed as he held Kit. Making sure her first time nesting went smoothly. He felt her body unstiffen and realized that she had fallen asleep. His eyes then snapped open.

He heard a small noise.

He felt rumbling coming from Kit.

She was purring.

Kit was purring as she slept in his arms. Pigsy smiled. He was glad that he was making her feel happy and safe.

And he was going to continue doing so.

Nothing was going to hurt his kit ever again.

Not on his watch.

[pocket-luv101]

Summary: Mahiru’s cousin visits him and he gets jealous when she flirts with Kuro. (KuroMahi)

“My aunt and cousin will stay in my uncle’s room for the weekend. You’ll have to stay in your animal form while they’re here. Toru talked to her parents and he told me they’re pretty strict. They said I can’t have guy friends over while my cousin is in the apartment.” Mahiru told Kuro as he carried a basket of clothes into his bedroom. “She’s the same age as us so I was surprised that they had rules against her meeting guys.”

“Isn’t this your home? You should be allowed to have your friends over. You were planning to have Misono and Tetsu over for a movie marathon, weren’t you?” Kuro was in his cat form and lounged in the basket full of warm clothes. He rolled onto his back and looked up at Mahiru. “We’re dating so they shouldn’t mind if I’m here. I’m not going to look at her.”

“She’s excited to visit Tokyo for that concert. Her parents might force her to leave if they find out I broke my promise to watch over my cousin. I don’t want anything to ruin her vacation.” He felt Mahiru set down the basket but he didn’t move to leave the nest of clothes. “I need to finish my chores before my cousin gets here so help me fold these clothes. Half of them are yours, anyways.”

“But my little kitty paws can’t grab the clothes properly. Too troublesome.” While Mahiru rolled his eyes at his excuse, he found himself giggling at the act. He lifted Kuro out of the basket so he could fold his clothes. But then Kuro returned to his human form while he was holding him. The sudden change caused them both to fall onto the bed with Mahiru on top of him.

Kuro brushed his bangs from his brown eyes. “We can do the laundry later. I want to spend as much time with you as possible while I still can.”

“I guess you don’t have to hide while we’re alone in my room. Though, we’ll have to be quiet so she won’t overhear us.” Mahiru shifted so he would be more comfortable but he didn’t move off Kuro’s chest. They started dating a few months ago and Kuro moved into his room recently. “I don’t like that I have to hide my boyfriend but I want to be accommodating to my relatives.”

His kindness was one of the things Kuro loved about him but he was worried that people would take advantage of that. Mahiru had told him that he wasn’t close with his distant relatives due to his experience at his mother’s funeral. His relatives spoke of him like a burden until his uncle stepped forward to adopt him. Mahiru understood that they couldn’t afford to adopt him so he didn’t resent them. The experience made him feel awkward around them though. Yet, he still offered his home to his aunt when she asked.

Kuro rolled on top of Mahiru and tenderly ran his fingers through his soft hair. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t need to. His simple touch was enough to comfort him and it reminded him that he could always rely on Kuro. Mahiru reached up to wrap his arms around his neck. He loved being surrounded by his warmth.

“She’ll leave Monday. Do you want to go on a date after she leaves? It has been awhile since we treated ourselves to a fancy restaurant or buffet. We can take a stroll through the town and walk off all that food afterwards.” Mahiru took out his phone to search for a place they could eat. He didn’t care where they went since he knew he would have fun with Kuro.

“On our last date, we walked past a noodle stand. We can buy cupped noodles there and walk around the park.” He suggested.

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door and Mahiru sighed. His relatives had likely arrived and he stood to greet them. He returned to his cat form and followed him to the door. Mahiru opened the door and gave them a polite nod. “Hello Auntie. Hello Rei. I hope your plane ride here was comfortable. I’ll help you with your bags.”

“What a responsible boy you’ve become, Mahiru.” His aunt said as he led them into the apartment. “Your uncle spoke highly of you and I’m glad that I don’t have to worry about my daughter if you’re watching over her. Where is your uncle right now?”

“Uncle Toru is out of town because an emergency at his workplace came up. He doesn’t know how long it’ll take to resolve the situation.” Mahiru didn’t know if his aunt knew about C3 so he kept his explanation vague. “He already told me the rules you gave him and your phone number in case anything comes up. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay in Tokyo.”

Mahiru sat on the couch and worked on his math assignment. He petted Kuro on his lap and he purred contently in response. Usually, Kuro would rest his head on him while he worked but he had to stay in his cat form. He looked up from his textbook when his cousin entered the living room. “Is there anything you need, Rei? You can ask me if you’re looking for anything.”

“You’re only a year older than me, Mahiru. You don’t need to act like a babysitter.” His cousin rolled her eyes at him. She turned her back to him to get a water bottle from the fridge. “I told my mother that I wanted to stay at a hotel for the concert but she said I should stay with a relative.”

“I understand that it’s frustrating that your mother is controlling. She does sound strict. Maybe you can talk to her when you return home and figure out a compromise. My friend had a protective father but he was able to convince him to trust him more after they discussed it.” Mahiru suggested. “On the other hand, I agree that it’s dangerous for a teenager to stay in the city alone, even if it’s just for the weekend.”

“You’re lucky that you never had to deal with parents. You can do whatever you want since your uncle works out of the city.” She said and didn’t notice how loneliness briefly passed his face. Kuro sensed his pain and nestled against Mahiru’s hand. He knew how difficult losing his mother was for Mahiru. He also had to raise himself while his uncle was working.

Rei noticed a photo on the wall and exclaimed: “Is that Licht Todoroki? He’s a famous pianist.”

“He’s my friend.” He told her and he could see that she was starstruck.

She took the picture off the wall and walked to Mahiru. She persistently pointed to Kuro in the photograph. “Your friends in this photo are handsome. You should introduce me to some of them and set me up on a date.”

“Most of my friends are already dating someone.” Mahiru told her and shook his head. His phone vibrated and he glanced at the screen. He forgot his earlier feeling of sadness when he saw that it was his uncle. “My uncle is coming home tonight. We don’t have enough food to cook dinner for four people. I’ll go to the market down the street. Please tell your mother that I’m going out for a bit.”

Mahiru grabbed his jacket and scooped Kuro into his arms before he left his home. He walked into the staircase and set him down on the ground. He understood Mahiru’s intention and Kuro returned to his human form. They took each other’s hands and walked down the stairs.

“I’m going to cook my specialty hamburgers since my uncle will be coming home. I wish you could eat with us too.” They stepped out of the store with an armful of food. Mahiru glanced over his receipt and paused. “We forgot to buy tomatoes. Wait out here while I run back inside for them. This shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

Mahiru handed the bags to Kuro before he walked into the store again. He watched him through the shop’s window until he was out of sight. Kuro searched for a shaded bench where he could sit and wait for him. He didn’t want to wander too far from the entrance or Mahiru wouldn’t be able to find him. He sat down and took out his phone to pass the time.

Footsteps approached him but he knew that it wasn’t Mahiru since it was too quick for him to return. He looked up and he was surprised to see Rei. Kuro didn’t greet her and looked back down at his phone. While she was Mahiru’s relative, he didn’t like how she spoke to him. She said, “Hello. You don’t know me but I think I’ve seen you before. Do you know my cousin, Mahiru? I saw you in a photo of him and a bunch of his friends.”

“I know Mahiru. I’m dating him.” Kuro said and held up his phone. His phone’s background was of him and Mahiru together on their first date. He returned to his game and said, “If you’re looking for Mahiru, he’s in the store.”

“Mahiru didn’t mention that you two were dating. I’m kind of surprised since he’s a simple guy and it must be boring dating him.” She said and sat next to him. Kuro bit his tongue to stop himself from giving her a retort. He wanted to defend Mahiru but he couldn’t upset one of his cousins. He shifted his grocery bags between them but then she leaned over the food to touch his arm. “It looks like you’re strong.”

“Excuse me, Rei, you shouldn’t touch Kuro like that. He doesn’t like it when strangers get too close.” Mahiru’s voice came between them. He grabbed the grocery bags and then took Kuro’s hand to pull him away. He didn’t look back to see his cousin’s reaction.

After they walked a block, Mahiru stopped and looked at his bags. He felt embarrassed that he let his feelings get the better of him and acted rude to his cousin. He had overheard their conversation so he knew that Kuro had told her about their relationship. Yet, she still tried to flirt with him. Mahiru let go of his hand and touched Kuro’s bell. “I want to invite you to dinner. My aunt won’t mind since we’re dating.”

“I wasn’t looking forward to eating out of the cat bowl so I’ll love to eat with you. Your cooking’s great.” Kuro threaded their fingers together and they walked down the street.

[exauhstedsunflower]

Catalina Tells The Best Stories

The house has been generally quiet all day. They’ve all been doing their own things, or quietly chatting as they pass by each other. Catalina herself had settled down to watch a new series on Netflix. She’d never admit to actually enjoying such a thing, but Love Island had been on her list for quite a while, so she’s very happy to have some time to finally watch it. She watches an entire season in one day, and as she finishes the last episode, snapping out of her Netflix induced haze, she realizes that the house has remained quiet. No one has come to bother her, or ask her any questions, or just check to see where she is, like they normally would. She finds this rather odd considering everyone is definitely home. She’d know if they left. The front door makes a distinctive noise when it opens, and she hadn’t heard it. Everyone is home, and no one has interrupted her show. That never happens.

She gets up from the nest of blankets she created on her bed and walks to her door, then down the hall, listening for signs of life. She slows to a stop as she comes to Kitty’s bedroom door, there’s talking coming from inside. It sounds like laughter. She knocks, and is invited in.

“What’s happening in here?” She questions with fondness at the sight in front of her.

Anne is sitting at the foot of Kitty's bed, while Cathy and Kitty herself are sitting against the headboard. Anna is laying on the carpeted floor next to the bed with a pillow, and Jane has her head on the woman’s stomach as a pillow of her own. They were all talking amongst themselves as she entered.

Kitty’s eyes light up at the sight of Catalina. “Lina should tell one! She tells the best stories!” Is what she gets as a reply. Catalina makes her way further into the room. She decides to join Anne at the end of the bed, the other woman moving to give her space to sit comfortably. The others seem to agree with this statement.

“Absolutely! Lina, tell us a story!” Anne agrees.

“A romantic one, please.”

“Ew, Jane, no. Lina, tell us a war story.”

“Anna, I’ve had enough of stressful stories after Cathy’s go.”

“Alright then Kit, it’s your room. What kind of story do you want?”

Catalina watches this conversation take place with amusement. They’ve been sharing stories, she gathers. Absolute children.

“I kind of agree with Jane. Lina, have you got any romantic stories?”

Catalina hums in thought, but decides pretty quickly that whatever she decides on it can’t be a Henry story. They’re all having too nice of a time to hear about how he treated Lina the first few years after they’d married.

“I think I can manage.” She says, which earns her a cheer. She smiles at that, then starts her story.

“My first husband, Arthur, was very sweet to me. Before I met him we corresponded by letter. All in Latin, though. I didn’t speak English and he didn’t speak Spanish. He’d tell me how he couldn’t wait to meet me, and that he was going to be the best husband he could. And when I was sent for him, while I was afraid and sad to leave my home in Spain, I was also excited to meet him. He always seemed so interested in what I had to say. And he seemed just as excited to actually speak in person.” She could go on forever about everything leading up to them marrying, but spared them the mushy feeling aspect of the boat ride to England.

“When we met we were supposed to speak in Latin, but as it turns out we spoke different dialects, so we still couldn’t understand each other.” There's a murmur of ‘how awful’ from the floor. It has to have been Jane, who is known for being a hopeless romantic. She supposes it was awful. It was certainly quite disappointing to not be able to speak properly after looking forward to doing so for so long.

“A few weeks after the wedding, I was rather lonely. It’s a bit hard not to feel lonely after weeks of almost no communication. And that's not to say we didn’t try! We tried everything, from writing notes to each other to gesturing violently when there was no paper around.” That last part gets some laughter from the bunch, who look very invested in the story so far.

“But still, I felt a bit lonely, and was quite down. So I took to dancing. I was even singing my favorite song. I thought I was alone, but actually Arthur was watching from the door. It was quite embarrassing, actually.” They all try to imagine a young and embarrassed Catalina. It’s hard, because the Catalina they know is so headstrong and collected.

She smiles knowing she has everyone hooked. She watches them all attempt the imagery from the story, then continues, “He laughed at me a bit. But then he came over to me and took my hands, and he tried to mimic my dancing. He was terrible, so I got to laugh at him back.” She chuckles at the memory. “So I taught him to dance my way, then he started singing a song in English, so he taught me a dance from England. Then, as we both realized we were awful, we ended up combining the two.”

“It was a disaster, but it was so fun. We didn’t need to understand each other’s languages to know what the other was thinking. The laughter and dancing said enough.” She finishes. She looks around the room to see that the other queens are staring at her in awe. They often compliment her story telling ability. Catalina credits this to having lived long enough to have stories to tell, though. Still, when they want a story, Catalina is the go to.

“That was so cute!” Kitty squeals as she jumps a bit in her seat. The others give various praise that sounds similar, and she smiles and thanks them.

“And as if to prove that he was so kind to me, there are letters found by historians from him to his family. They all say he was so happy to have me as his wife, and that I was beautiful and smart, all sorts of the nicest things. He would have been the best husband, may God rest his soul.”

[officialleehadan]

All the Pillows

hello darlings! Here's another $5+ Patron Prompt! This one was inspired by the dialogue prompt below, and is dedicated to the always-wonderful Bradford! Thank you so much for all your support, darling!

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 Person A: “....What the f**k are you doing?”

 Person B: “I’m building a pillow fort.” 

Person A: “Isn’t that a little childish?”

 Person B: “Does that mean you don’t want to join me?” 

Person A: “.....” 

Person B: “.....” 

Person A: “.....Move over.” 

+++

“What the crap are you doing?” Tracy asked as she came in the door, Angelika on her heels. They had been at the farmer’s market, because Angelika wanted to make soup and refused to use anything from the grocery store to do it. 

“I’m building a pillow fort,” Blake said, buried somewhere under what seemed like every blanket and pillow in the house. It was precariously suspended across couches, stools, half of the kitchen counter, and something in the middle that looked suspiciously like a broom. As Tracy looked on, one wing of it teetered and collapsed. Three of the Cats shot out from under the blankets as they came down. 

“Isn’t that a little childish?” Angelika asked, her sweet smile easing the sting of her words even as she set the groceries on the counter to cuddle the nearest Cat, who chirped happily about the Angel Snuggles. 

“Does that mean you don’t want to join me?”

It was Blake’s Tempting voice, but the effect was somewhat lost as the fallen blankets propped themselves back up, the shape under them suspiciously shaped like wings before the broom reappeared, supporting the fort. Roux stayed in Angelika’s arms, but Trill and Pookie both eagerly dove back into the fort. 

Tracy looked at Angelika, deeply tempted.

Angelika looked t the fort.

The sound of her restraint snapping was almost audible.

“Move over,” she said, and set Roux down. “How do we get in?”

“Ask and ye shall receive,” Blake said, and one of the blankets lifted, revealing their most powerful demon, clad in his favorite tatty tee shirt cut open at he back for his wings, and even softer sleeping pants. “it, no. Go get into comfortable clothes first. We are celebrating Sloth and I will not be thwarted.”

Tracy laughed as he made a very Threatening Demon Face at them, and Angelika kissed his forehead. He scrunched up his nose, but there was no hiding the fondness in his eyes when he looked at them. 

“Go on,” he repeated, and dropped the blanket, obscuring the inside of the fort before Tracy could see inside. It was funny, but she was sure she saw light coming from inside the mound of blankets. “We’re making a nest.”

“Do you have Christmas lights under there?” Tracy asked incredulously. Blake ignored the question, but she could feel undeniable satisfaction rolling down their bond, which probably meant yes. “Ridiculous demon.”

“We resemble that statement,” eight voices answered in unison from inside the fort, and Tracy snorted on her way to her room. A quick change into yoga pants and a soft shirt, one of Blake’s, and she was back, wood floor cold under her bare feet. 

“Okay, let me in,” she said as Angelika laughed. The angel was putting her soup together, but Tracy knew that she would join them as soon as she was done. Angelika would never be able to come relax while there was something she could do for their strange family. That often involved feeding them. Angel cookies were the best. “I meet the dress code.”

“What’s the password?”

That was Keighan, and he was every bit as smug as Blake.

“Bow before me, minion,” she replied, confident that her Cats could take the joke for what it was these days. “I demand entrance.”

“Oooh, she’s demanding,” Mara’s voice drifted out, heavy with giggles, which meant that Davi was in there too. The Lovebirds were never far apart. “That wasn’t the password.”

“Not even close,” Blake agreed.

“But she’s the Mistress,” Keighan said, all Catty attitude. “We love the mistress.”

“You know my name just fine, Kitty,” Tracy said, and crawled inside when the blanket was raised despite their teasing. “You don’t have to call me Mistress.”

“We like to,” Keighan told her, wiggling aside to let her in. “It reminds us that we’re yours.”

“You’re definitely mine,” Tracy agreed, and paused to bump his shoulder with hers, unable o snuggle him properly on all fours as she was. “Oh wow, this is… a lot.”

The fort was a masterpiece of architecture and probably a lot of demon magic. The biggest blankets formed the main structure, threaded over chairs and couch to create a large room. Smaller alcoves were shaped of multiple blankets weighted at the bottoms by books, knickknacks, some of Blake’s workout-weights, and Glowbat, who seemed to be content with his roll as Load-Bearing Cat. Christmas lights were threaded through it, turning the secret little space into a warmly-glowing ball of comfort, padded out with still more blankets and probably every pillow in the house.

There were five visible Cats, including Glowbat, three lumps that looked suspiciously Cat-like, and the Lovebirds off in one corner. There was a good bit of blanket in Davi’s lap, but Mara’s face was definitely pressed into the soft white of his feathers. Tracy beamed, glad to see her family so happy. She really did love them.

“The Cats had never seen a pillow fort,” Blake told her when she made it into the main nest of the fort. He had that shifty look he always got when he wanted to do something nice for someone, but didn’t want to admit it. “And who am I to deny them the chance at some good, healthy slothful indulgence?”

“You’re the very best sort of demon. I assume the other Cats have been notified?” Tracy said, and kissed his cheek, even as Zuk crawled into the fort, carefully juggling one of their Bluetooth speakers, and their dedicated Music Tablet. “Settle in. Angelika will be here as soon as she’s done cooking.”

“Our Pledge Lord is the best,” Keighan said as Tracy got comfortable, and Cats scrambled over for snuggles. “The other cats are getting snacks, and then we can talk about which movie we’re gonna watch.”

+++

Higher Being Housemates:

As it turns out, rent is really high  in Heaven. It’s not great in Hell either. An angel and a demon come to  an agreement that works for them both.

Their human housemate still  hasn’t decided whether or not to help them, or kick them all out of her  house. After all, Grad school is hard enough without the Great War  making it worse.

Bright Red Panties

Black and White Feathers

Demonic Comfort

Demonic Intervention

Unwanted Attention

Magpie Wings

Don’t Fall

Sparklers and Demon Smiles

Holy Words

Holy Tea

Santa Baby

Pledge Promise

Unholy Fuss (Free on Patreon)

Tuxedo Cat (Subscribers Only!)

Shadow Puff (Subscriber Only!)

If This Then That

A Third Side (Subscriber Only)

Sharp Edges

Red Letters

Stand Together (Subscriber Only!)

Fuzzy Interlude

The Fun Side  (Subscriber Only!)

Feathers and Tea

Making Christmas

Santa Satan

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More Stories!

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[kasienda]

Stutters - A Miraculous Identity Reveal

Adrien could not stay focused. His skin itched in agitation and he kept fidgeting in his seat, glancing backwards forlornly at the vacant desk behind him. He tried again and again to find a comfortable position or at least force himself to follow the text Ms. Bustier was reading aloud, but it was a lost cause.

Marinette was still absent. This was the third day.

He missed her. Class wasn’t the same without her soft whispers to Alya behind him or her tendency to make word salad whenever he looked in her direction. Her presence made him smile. Made him feel warm. Made him feel safe.

And clearly he couldn’t function properly while filled up to the brim with anxious worry.

He had asked Alya about Marinette twice in the last two days. The first day she had shrugged, as mystified as him. On the second day, she had smirked, her honey brown eyes twinkling in amusement.

“If you’re so worried, Sunshine, you should text her yourself.”

He had blushed and turned back around, determined to get his chemistry work done. He fought with his brain for an hour and then his worry overcame his embarrassment, and he had texted.

She had never responded.

Read on Ao3 Read on FF.net

He had planned to ask Alya again before class, but she had arrived uncharacteristically late. He hoped that meant she had checked in on Marinette.

He turned to Alya the second the bell signaled the end of class. “Have you heard from Marinette yet?”

Alya winced. “She’s really sick apparently. She caught the flu that’s been going around. She can’t get out of bed without hurling. Sabine warned me to stay away for my own protection.”

Adrien sighed. First, Ladybug had asked him to take over her patrols because she was ill, and now, Marinette hadn’t made it to class the whole week! This flu was beyond cruel in its choice of victims. Adrien could not think of two people less deserving of the sickness’s wrath.

He knew he had no way of visiting Ladybug, but perhaps he could swing by Marinette’s.

He shook his head at himself. Sabine was probably right. It was better to stay away. With Ladybug out of commission, he couldn’t afford to get sick himself. Hawkmoth might have been quiet the last few days, but he couldn’t count on that to last. And he had to be prepared to fight alone.

That conclusion was easy to reach. It was rational and pragmatic. It’s what Ladybug would have advised him to do, but when his normal patrol route brought him just two rooftops away from Marinette’s balcony, he could resist peeking in on her.

Her form lay curled up in the fetal position surrounded by a nest of pillows and blankets. She was asleep, but even unconscious her looked pale and waxy. He pulled back from the little round window feeling guilty for invading her privacy and witnessing her in this moment of weakness. He wished he could do something to help her feel better.

He was about to vault away when his eyes landed on the terrace garden filled with potted plants. The normally vibrant green leaves were drooping down as if they, too, were mourning the lack of Marinette's presence in their daily life. Upon closer inspection, Chat Noir discovered crumbly and dry soil in each pot. He knew almost nothing about taking care of plants. Gardening was something his father would hire someone for. But the heir to the Agreste fortune did at least know they needed water.

He clapped his hands together with a grin. This was something he could do.

It didn’t take long to find her watering can and fill it up at the nozzle located on the lowest part of the wall in the balcony’s corner. He added small amounts of water to each clay pot, only then noticing that each home was carefully hand painted with flowers and vines or little hearts and stars. His favorite pot showed off little black kittens chasing flying ladybugs.

Marinette really was amazingly talented.

She also tended to a huge variety of plant life. She had herbs, vines, grass-like stalks, and he knew from experience that there should have been flowering buds, but they were sealed tightly closed refusing to flaunt their bright colors for all the birds and bugs to see. He knew that gardening was difficult and that each plant probably needed something slightly different.

He glanced back through Marinette’s round window, to her very still roll on the bed. He had never seen her so still. Who knew when she would be able to make it out here again.

After he was finished watering, he cut his patrol short and headed straight home. Chat Noir had research to do.

It turned out that potted plants needed fertilizer or some kind of plant food to reintroduce nutrients into their soil. But different varieties needed it with varying amounts and frequencies. He didn’t know all the plants Marinette had, but he supposed the next day he would have to take pictures of each one and come home to identify them so he would be able to find more specific care instructions.

It did seem that most plants did well with water in the morning and/or evening because in the middle of the day the wet leaves could fry in the hottest part of the day. And apparently, over watering was a danger as well.

And some plants needed regular pruning.

He glanced through his schedule. If he got up an hour earlier than Nathalie’s scheduled wake up call, he would have time to take pictures of and water all of Marinette’s plants and be back in his room with ten minutes to spare.

Then, he could spend all of his free period with the pictures identifying what they were and put specific care instructions for each one in a document that he could send to his staff and refer to whenever he needed to.

Quickly stopping by Marinette’s as Chat Noir in the morning and evening had quickly become part of his routine. His secret gardening consoled some restless part of his soul. He was able to peek in on her and feel like he was helping in some small way.

He could even focus in class again. In fact, he had to be insanely efficient with his time in order to complete his homework, fill his modeling obligations, go on a daily patrol, and stop by his favorite balcony. Somehow, he pulled it all off smoothly each and every day, and the twice daily stops were quickly becoming his favorite parts of the day.

It was peaceful and colorful now that the flowers were willing to show their petals again. He had long since stopped feeling self conscious amongst the plants. He talked and sang to them. His research had said that also would help them.

Really he shouldn’t have been surprised when she caught him on the fourth day.

“Kitty? What are you doing out there?”

Startled at her sudden presence, he dropped the cap full of miracle grow onto the ground with a curse. The green liquid spread out across the deck, seeping into the panels of stained wood. He looked around rapidly for some kind of towel to soak it up. He knew the stuff was toxic to many birds and he wouldn’t want them to get sick because of his carelessness.

“Uh, hey there, princess!” He greeted distractedly as he mopped up his spill. “Are you feeling better?”

He glanced up at her then and smiled. Her eyes shined with their usual vibrant blue, and she had just a hint of color in her cheeks. In short, she looked healthy again, and he could not be more relieved.

“Loads,” she answered with a friendly smile. “I might even be able to make it back to school on Monday. Were you watering my plants?”

His gloved hand flew unconsciously to the back of his neck. “Uh yeah. Watering.” He pointed to the plant he had just given the plant food. “And the Internet said that this one needed fertilizer every other day and yesterday, I pruned this one because it was looking crowded. I hope you don’t mind. I heard you were sick and when I was passing by on patrol I noticed the plants were looking a little dry. And I thought it would be such a shame if your garden took a hit just because you were ill. I know you love it up here.”

He eyed her warily trying to gauge her reaction. She wouldn’t feel irritated at him invading her space, would she? His form loosened in relief when she only smiled again.

“That was really thoughtful Chat Noir,” she said, as she took a seat on one of the balcony’s chairs. “Thank you. I didn’t realIze you gardened.”

Heat rose to his face. “I don’t really. Never done it before this week actually.”

“But then, how did you know about the pruning and the fertilizer?”

“I… uh. I kinda looked it up?” he admitted, jumping into the seat behind her to hide his embarrassment. “I really just looked up how much water to give, but then it gave different directions for different plants, so I had to come back and take pictures of each one, so I could look up directions for each one.”

“Y-you t-took the time to identify each plant?!” she repeated, her eyes blown wide, staring at him in surprise.

“Well, I didn’t want to do it wrong and then ruin the garden I was trying to save for you,” he said.

“Th-that’s… you… that was so yind of kew. I mean! Kind! I meant kind of y-you. Y-you definitely didn’t h-have t-to do that.”

The teenaged hero frowned at her stutter. She only stuttered around Adrien.

“You okay princess? Maybe you should go lie back down.”

“Y-yeah, you’re nice… I mean, right. You’re right. I should back lie… I mean lie back down.”

Chat hovered behind her ready to catch her should she stumble or fall. Watching her go down the ladder was the worst, but she made it without the slightest sway and cooperatively climbed back into her bed. He brought up the blankets to cover her and she gathered them in a cocoon around her.

“W-will you come back tomorrow?” she asked with pleading eyes. “J-just time one… one time.”

“Anything for you, princess.” He winked as he leapt agilely up the ladder and back into the balcony.

He bounded away towards home, trying to puzzle out her new behavior. Had he done something to offend her? Perhaps she thought it was creepy that he was right outside her bedroom window every day, twice a day. He really hadn’t thought this through at all.

He tried to ease the anxious mental spiral. He was probably overthinking this. She was sick after all. That was probably why she was stuttering.

He came back the next morning, and she had croissants fresh from the oven and steaming tea ready for him. She had already taken care of the plants. He tried not to be disappointed by this fact. He had enjoyed tending to the delicate life forms. It was nice to work at creating something for a change.

“These are amazing,” he gushed, after taking his first bite. Really the buttery confections never got old, especially when he was hardly allowed simple carbs. “My compliments to the baker! You really didn’t have to feed me though you know.”

“I w-wanted to say thank you,” she stammered, her face blushing in red.

“You look so much better with color in your cheeks,” he told her thoughtlessly. But he really had been worried about her.

Her eyes turned away as her cheeks somehow became even redder. “I r-really meel fuch better!” She managed. “Much better!! Gah!” her face fell into her hands in embarrassment.

This was way too familiar. This was how she acted around Adrien all the time. His mind spiraled into the worst possible explanation and he felt the blood drain from his face. He dropped the croissant, that was now forgotten in his lap.

“How did you figure it out?” he made himself ask.

“F-figure what?”

He leaned forward and took her hands in his own. “You can’t tell anyone,” he beseeched. “Please, Marinette.” He pulled back again, and dragged his hands through his hair. “God, Ladybug’s going to kill me.”

“Chat calm down,” Marinette urged, her delicate fingers rested hesitantly on his shoulder trying to reassure him. “It’s okay. I would never tell anyone anything if you don’t want me to.”

His eyes flew back to hers and he felt a bit calmer in her gentle blue gaze. Marinette was trustworthy. He knew that better than anyone. “I hope you’re not mad at me.”

“W-why would I be mad?”

“Sometimes it just seemed so two faced to come here as Chat because you treated me so differently as Adrien.”

She stumbled backwards and fell over the chair. He rushed over to her and helped her up.

“W-what?!” Her scream was shrill. “You’re Adrien?!”

Once they were both standing steadily she hit his arm. Hard.

“You stupid cat! Why would you tell me that?!” Her stutter had vanished, he noted. And she was angry. Very angry.

The air rushed out of his lungs and he blinked at her as her words registered. “I thought you knew?”

Now, Ladybug was really going to kill him. It was bad enough when he thought that Marinette had him figured out, but she hadn’t. He had just blurted it out like an idiot.

“Based on what?” she demanded.

“You’ve always been awkward around me as Adrien. But you’re so sassy and confident around everyone else. Even Chat Noir! Maybe especially Chat Noir. But when you started mixing up your words around Chat the same way you do sometimes around Adrien, I figured that you had me pegged.”

She looked like she had been hit by a train. She just stared at him.

“You literally only treat Adrien that way,” he added, mostly to break the silence.

“That’s not... I don’t...” she spluttered.

“If you hadn’t figured it out, why did you start treating Chat Noir differently?” he asked. “You don’t like him either? Has he done something wrong?”

“You think that I don’t like you?” she whispered. Her voice sounded so small, so far away.

He winced. “I mean, not exactly! You just seem so nervous a lot of the time. Am I that frightening or intimidating?” He was started to panic down another spiral. That he realized it didn’t help him at all.

…

Marinette could see that he was freaking out. Adrien was standing there in front of her, only he was Chat Noir. And she wanted to process that. She needed to. But she couldn’t. He was hurt. And she had put that hurt there.

Before anything else, she had to fix that.

Marinette took a breath, stepped forward, and gently enclosed his clawed hand into her own, trying to communicate what she’s never been able to put into words.

His green eyes swivelled back to her, swimming in confusion, begging her to explain. Because he still didn’t understand.

“I... I...” she stammered. She inwardly cursed her inability to communicate with him.

This time, he squeezed her hand. And she drew courage from that. This wasn’t just Adrien. This was Chat Noir, and yes, she had just figured out that she loved him as his superhero self and that made her nervous. But he was her partner. She trusted him more than anyone else on the whole planet. He had proven time again that he would protect her life. Maybe it was time to let him protect her heart as well.

And however this is going to go, he would be gentle with her.

“Adrien has made me nervous for a long time,” she admitted staring down into their clasped hands. Somehow it was easier talking about him in third person even though she knew she was talking to him. “It’s not because he’s scary or famous or that I don’t like him... quite the opposite in fact...”

She glanced up, the green sclera opened beseechingly. He waited with so much patience.

“I’ve always stuttered or mixed up my words around Adrien because... I was...” she licked her lips, fidgeted from one foot to the other, and glanced up at his face again. “...in love with him.” She rushed the words out. Part of her felt more anxious than ever. But she also felt lighter, freer.

“I always behave that way around boys that I like...” she admitted, and looked down again as heat bloomed in her face and neck.

She glanced up again. Chat... no, Adrien looked like he had swallowed a melon whole. His eyes were wide, his grip on her hands tightened, and she was no longer certain he was even breathing.

“Please say something,” she begged, wringing her hand even though he still held it.

“You... you love Adrien?” He whispered.

“That’s what I said.”

“And-and you started mixing up your words around Chat because... you like him too?”

She nodded, her cheeks burned hotter than before.

“You fell for both of me?” It was like he couldn’t believe it.

And then, his eyes watered.

“Please don’t cry kitty,” she begged, wiping a fallen tear from his black mask. She had never seen him cry before in either persona. She didn’t know what to do.

He pulled her into a hard hug, his arms swept around her and he pressed her form into the hard leather of his catsuit. Soon, he was balling into her shoulder.

Marinette let herself melt into his embrace, tracing soothing patterns onto his back. She was still unsure how he felt about her confession, but she was determined to be there for him.

He finally quieted, and with one last comforting squeeze, he pulled away. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I’m crying. I’m so embarrassed.”

“It’s okay,” she soothed.

“You’re just so amazing, Marinette. I don’t know that I could ever deserve you. I don’t know what someone like you could ever see in someone like me. And that you do see something in both sides of me, that means a lot to me. You are so kind. You have no idea how much I admire you!”

Marinette felt like she might break from the growing tension - like a violin string pulled too tight - ready to snap. Listening to him gush was amazing, but she still couldn’t tell if he was letting her down easy or preparing for their wedding.

The silence grew and Marinette couldn’t take it.

“So... does that mean?” she prompted.

“Would you like to go on a date?” he blurted.

And just like that, the tension eased as if it had never been. And she started giggling.

“I would love that kitty. What did you have in mind?”

“Umm... is it okay if it’s a surprise?”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure, but don’t go too crazy A-Adrien.”

“You called me Adrien,” he said gleefully.

“I-I did.”

“Plagg, claws in.”

And there he was standing in front of her, his white overshirt over his usual black t-shirt. His face bare and without a mask was as familiar as her partner’s. Her nerves exploded again, and she couldn’t speak.

“You still okay?” He asked with a small smile that spoke with the gentleness of a butterfly’s wing.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He glanced at her lips. “M-may I kiss you?”

She nodded and just before their lips touched, her eyes landed on Plagg. Who floated ominously over Adrien’s shoulder with a cold glower directed right at her. And she understood. This was unfair.

She stopped him with a hand to the chest. “No wait!”

“Something wrong princess?”

She closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath. Apparently, the call for bravery was not over.

“Before you kiss me,” she began, drawing comfort from the hand that remained on his chest. “Before you agree to date me or be my b-boyfriend.” Could it be any hotter up here?! “I h-have to tell you something.”

He pulled back and waited. But she didn’t speak. “Whatever it is, I’m sure that...”

“Please, let me say this,” she begged. “You need to know! Plus, Plagg may cataclysm me in my sleep if I don’t come clean.”

“Plagg?” Adrien repeated in confusion, turning towards the floating Kwami of destruction. “How do you know Plagg?”

She sighed. “We’ve met. A few times actually. He uh... he helped me defeat Style Queen when you lost…” she trailed off. Adrien had been Style Queen’s first victim. Of course, Chat Noir hadn’t been so irresponsible as to lose his miraculous. “No, when you had turned into a statue. And during Sandboy we collaborated a plan together.”

“Plagg helped... you.” He repeated slowly. He licked his lips. “He helped you... defeat Style Queen.”

He was staring at her in shock and for once she held his gaze. She had to.

“M’Lady?”

She nodded.

“Really?!” He was grinning like a cat who had fallen into a vat of cream. He picked her up by the waist and twirled her around. “This is perfect!” He laughed, his mirth spilling over into the very air around them.

“It is?” she asked, not quite sharing in his joy. “You’re not mad at all those times I rejected you for... well, you?”

“Marinette, I did the same thing to you when you confessed to me as Chat Noir.”

“I mean, it’s not the same thing! I confessed under false pretenses. You’re not mad about that either?”

“Wait! False pretenses?” He froze and considered her for a moment. She tried not to fidget in his green eyed gaze as he put the pieces together. “I almost stumbled onto your identity that day… you didn’t love me.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t admit it, no.”

“You did it to distract me.”

“Yeah…”

He looked away, lost in the memory. “I was so excited that day. That was the first time I had received a genuine confession.”

“A-are you mad?” she asked, anxiously pulling at her sleeve’s hem.

He just grinned and shook his head. “I might have been at some point. Now, it seems kinda funny.”

He broke into giggles and she did too.

“Too bad you didn’t figure it out,” she managed between giggles. “Maybe we could have saved ourselves months of chasing each other’s tails.”

“Goodness, we are so stupid,” he drawled out.

“Blind,” she corrected with a soft smile.

“What?”

“You were never stupid. Tikki says love is blind.”

TIkki flew out at that exact moment. “Hello Adrien, it’s nice to see you again under better circumstances.”

He smiled at the red kwami. “Likewise,” he agreed, with a small nod. Then he turned back to Marinette.

“So... can I kiss you now? We have Kwami approval?” Tikki looked pleased and Plagg shrugged as if to say “if you must”.

“M’lady?”

She nodded.

His lips pressed into hers. And it wasn’t how kisses were in stories. There were no fireworks. She didn’t feel like her feet left the floor. If anything, it was awkward because neither of them could stop smiling long enough to really let their lips melt into the other.

But that was okay. They now had all the time in the world to practice.

Marinette jerked away. “You shouldn’t be kissing me actually.”

“What?” He went rigid in her arms, clearly worried he had done something wrong.

“I don’t want you to get sick,” she observed worriedly.

He relaxed his forehead against hers and smiled again. “I don’t care about that.”

“You say that now. This bug knocked me out for a solid week and I’m still shaky.”

Adrien did get sick two days later. Ladybug brought him broth. She knew from experience that he wouldn’t be able to hold anything else down and even the broth was a toss-up.

“I feel awful,” he complained to her.

“I told you,” the heroine quipped without sympathy even as she nestled down next to him in bed.

He just leaned into her presence, his eyes remained closed. “It was worth it,” he told her. “I have no regrets. If I die from this, I will die happy.”

“No!” She barked in objection. “You have to live forever!”

He laughed weakly and then started coughing instead. When the coughing finally subsided, he threaded his fingers through hers. “I promise I will, Buginette. That, or I will die trying.”

She nuzzled against him, and released her transformation. She couldn’t ask for better than that.

“See that you do, kitty. See that you do.”

He started purring, and they both promptly fell asleep. Marinette still hadn’t entirely recovered from her own illness after all, and the worst had yet to hit Adrien. But they would weather it together.

…

[asrasotherbottom]

I really enjoyed the last ask so I'm gonna ask for one more with a familiar if you dont mind. What if MC had a small group of Lionesses (2 or 3) as her familiars. They follow them everywhere. How would the main 6 react?

these are so much fun! im glad you enjoyed the last one too :) 

Asra

“Aw thats…so many large animals. But thats okay!” 

The biggest problems that arise, from Asra’s perspective, are that its hard to keep them all on the beast on the way to Nopal and the shop gets a little crowded. 

He loves curling up with MC in a nest of lionesses because theyre all so soft and he can just cuddle MC and stay warm. 

Faust loves riding on top of one of them and walking through town with them like a girl gang. 

Nadia

She thinks they’re so fancy! She does have a lot of questions to make sure that they’re being taken care of properly.

Nadia relates to the lionesses a lot, powerful and strong and beautiful, yknow. So she spends a lot of time with them.

The horses get VERY concerned when MC and Nadia start taking them along on their horseback rides. 

The poor chamberlain doesn’t get paid enough to have lions and peacocks roaming about the palace. 

Julian

LIONS???

You know they can eat people right??? And theyre magic???

But as soon as one lets him pet her behind the ears he’s all putty in their paws tbh. 

He gets very smug and loves feeling very powerful walking through the streets of Vesuvia with the love of his life and her multiple large lionesses.

The rowdy raven is NOT big enough for this but they make due.  

Muriel

John Mulaney voice: This Might As Well Happen

He’s…going to need a bigger hut. But for the moment, he and MC will take the floor and Inanna and the lionesses can have the bed. 

He likes having them around though, they make him feel less Too Big because they’re more proportionate to him.

Inanna is confused but interested. They’re her wives now. Her big buff warm climate wives. 

Portia

LIONS?????

Big Kitty Cat Big Kitty Cat Big Kitty Cat Big Kitty Cat Big Kitty Cat this is the best day of Portias life as far as she’s concerned.

Shes so excited she can barely contain herself and just wants to lay around with them and give them belly rubs literally all day every day. 

Pepi is super intimidated by them at first, but Portia is INSISTENT that they become best friends (they do..eventually)

Lucio

Regal, Beautiful, Powerful, Perfect. He commends MC’s choice in familiar, they’re very fitting for how he sees her. 

He doesn’t even question it, he just braces himself for impact when two or three fully grown lions plop themselves down on top of him. 

He finds some way to put gold on them, golden crowns for the queens of the jungle?? Very Likely

M&M are a bad influence on them. They’re both not very trained pets and they both encourage MC’s lionesses to get into lots of mischief with their very sharp teeth. 

[zebraslovescupcakestoo]

What a day!: A oodle-lolly golly what a day revisited.

This is a short story of two unlikely heroes that rose from the injustice of the Alfonso Mafia that rules almost all of the underworld and Black market of the Chicago City streets. (Guitar playing)

One was from the suburbs of Chicago. The other was blown in from the northern country a couple years back.

And this is just one moment that might have happened. Had happened. Or whatever.

Two guys walked together in a quiet, normal park on one spring day.

The smaller one was Felix Lockheart, the underdog, detective hero of the Chicago Police. He was the innocent people's last hope against the criminals and those who knew the mafia well, the Alfonso mafia. He was a single parent-like uncle to his nephews after a tragic accident of his father and sister. He was a well respected police officer in his own rights with his special skills and his good manners.

The other one, who he was a tall but a bit intimidating, was Sammuel Toutsaint. Also known as Sam Toucan for shorts. He was an unusual man who he had served in the WW2 before he became a full pledge attorney after it ended. Despite he was much suited to be a prosecutor, he changed to defense due to the fact that... there was too many prosecutors in Chicago and that they'll hire anybody who wanted to be a defense attorney... So he took the defense position and got the job.

He was a honest but er... 'unfiltered' type of person who doesn't beat around the bush when he wanted to say something. He does however kept it minimum if there's kids involved or around. He was actually grew found of Felix after their first case working together and gave him hope again for justice to his innocent clients.

Felix Cat and Sam Toucan walking through the park path. Laughing back and forth at what the other has to say.

As I've said it, it was a bright spring day when they're out walking the park. There might be some snow here and there, but it had cleared up quite a bit to enjoy the trails. They both agreed to take this opportunity to get some fresh, spring air after a long, cold winter from inside. After all, even these coffee buddies wanted to go out once in a while to clear their thoughts.

“What a beautiful, blue sky! I can almost see the tulips popping out of my imagination and ready to be planted on these grounds. At least today it might be peaceful for once.” Felix hoped with his arms stretched out and put behind his head. He was feeling quite good today.

“As long as you 'imagine' those lettuce you'd promise to pick up from the grocery store for Kitty, mon amie.” Sam reminded him with his hands in his pockets. His legs were almost just as long as Felix's height so his little friend sometimes needed to pick up the pace.

Reminiscing that time while having a good one with lolly, lolly, golly what a day!

“I'm surprised to see you've dressed properly for the season.” Felix complimented Sam who had on his navy blue overcoat that was meant for his job, but he'd normally use it for spring/fall coat.“Pourquoi?” He asked in french.

“Because I think you've 'intimidated' the other rival lawyers in mid-winter when you've showed up in your Hawaiian shirts and cargo shorts. Outside. With a tropical drink in your hands.” He recalls on those times he caught him wearing them to meet him. “I get that you're almost like cold resisting type, but please! Don't scare EVERYbody away like that.” He then got a bit concern and tried his best to be reasonable with Sam.

He knew that despite his friend's... unusual antics and behaviors, he was a very successful lawyer and one of the few who remains 'untouched' by the corrupted system and out of any rich influential and political payrolls pockets. If Felix haven't asked that one question about his reason of why he became a lawyer that one time, before he knew him better, he would have mistaken him for a grumpy thirty three year old man with a suit and tie.

“It's for keeping stupid bulls!t out of my request files for 'real' issues, not cause your partner forgot to go to a dinner date you've promised one time and you wanted a divorce.” As much as Sam might seem rude at one point, Felix knows he's telling the common sense truth. He can tell even without his 'special' talent.

Never, ever thinking there was danger in the bushed while they're were talking and just walking on by!

Felix then noticed a warning sing from Sam's eyes. He noticed that his dark blue eyes were glaring at a large brick wall on his left. He knew that look as if to say: 'that seems suspiciously dangerous!' He knew him well enough that if he sees or sense something off, be on your guard!

Never dreaming that the scheming Dancing Demon and his Big Bad Wolf was waiting for them for a surprising hit n' run!

Sam slowed down and then took out from his jacket some sort of a small jam bottle with a very unusual blend of liquids that looks like some kid had thrown in various mix of beverages. “Let's see if this works.” As soon as he opened the lid, Felix can smell the horrendous stench from it, but he kept his straight face on. He sees Sam lean a bit of his arm back like he was about to scoop something and then in a blink of an eye, he threw it right over the brick wall from their left. It didn't even took one second to hear some screams.

“RUN FOR IT!” Sam shouted as he picks up Felix from his right arms and ran to the direction they've just came from.

Felix Cat and Sam Toucan running through the park path, then on the grassy and snowy patch, passing behind trees.

Despite that spring is around the corner, there was still big snow banks in the area. One that can leap over a tall brick wall. Sam took this opportunity to step on only the grassy area and tries not to leave any tracks on the snow. He than halted from the wall, he then lift Felix up to the edge first for him to escape and in return, Felix used his whip belt that his late father made to help Sam climb over the wall. They finally manage to escape from whoever they were.

Contemplating, nothing but escaping and finally making out, good a little, lolly, lolly, golly what a day!

Once they've stepped on the other side they were back in the city's edge. There was tall buildings and streets. People every where for the afternoon outing and they were only, surprise surprise, nest to one of Bendy's signature cars only the social elites haves. Felix quickly tugged Sam's sleeves and pointed to the nearest car that was parked close to them. “I think they might be coming after us very shortly after that happened!” Whatever Sam have thrown on them, it's stench was so foul that  he knew that Bendy would abandoned the whole 'fun time' thing.

They've his behind the yellow car that was behind Bendy's just as they heard them coming from the park, infuriated. “Those two weirdos! Especially that *cough! * lamp post, Elvis dorky, rude mannered, colour blinded tie wearing *cough! * dodo!” Bendy coughed as he let out a disgusted sound as he tried to sniff, but the stench of whatever Sam threw, was really unpleasant even from where they were hiding. “Don't worry, Bendy, we'll get them next time. That Toucan guy was prepared for us in this round, but nobody will be that lucky forever. * COUGH! COUGH!*  gosh! What did he threw?!” Boris complimented as he coughed it too while he helped Bendy in the car and then he goes to the driver's seat.

Good a little, lolly, lolly, golly what a day!

As soon as the DeMon's signature luxury car was out of sight, they came out of their hiding. Felix called out to Sam. “Don't take this the wrong way, but you've been taking too many chances like that lately.” Sam Tsked. “You think mines are daring? You should have seen what Bendy's been up to with the more influential circles. The documents I found hidden in their files doesn't lie. He's trying to buy or blackmail more juries. But luckily for us, I did manage to 'fix' it as if he never did.” Sam happily smirked at his handy works.

Felix sighed in frustrations. “I'm sorry that you had to put more work like that. I wish I can do it myself but somehow... I'm still being held back for 'law' reasons. By that, I mean I'm almost restricted to aristocrats' self-entitled rights on properties and possessions unless they played a serious role of a crime. It's not a big issue, but they do seems to have an upper hand on some things just save a face or two.” I'm not saying all upper classes are like that, but there are those who would take advantage of rich privileges to an extend.

“Ces't vrai, but don't fret too much, mon amie. No matter how high and mighty they act, they are germs like the rest of us. They are humans and they make mistakes too. One of these days, their 'perfect' system will collapse like a house of cards.” Sam tried to assure Felix.

“Thanks, Sam. I knew you're not the type who'd cheer people up like that, but I appreciate it.” Felix smiled.

“Who was responsible for that? Eh bien! There's a local groceries store. Let's get that lettuce before we'll forget that.” Sam pointed out the way across the street in a cheerful manner. That got Felix attention when he mentioned an ingredient. “Hey speaking of ingredients, what WAS that stuff you've just thrown on them?” It was a particularly have a really strong unpleasant odor, but he knew that his friend has sometimes had some... different methods of handling things. Not to mention that Sam has rarely shown his optimistic side apart from his kids... unless it was a mischievous idea.

“Nothing really serious. I learn it from those bunch of kids that hangs around the Joey Drew Studios on their 'Free Hands' protests. You might be surprise how easy it is to get those ingredients.”

“Sam...” I used my tone of voice that I use when I say to my kids when they're not telling me something. Like he's hiding something or not telling me the 'whole' truth.

He held his hands up before we can get inside as to protest and defend himself. “It is nothing serious, Félix, It was just a ecologic friendly gas bomb.”

That made him jumped a bit and stuttered. “What the-?! What do you mean by that?! Are you trying to-Mmh!” HE then got muffled by Sam's hand clapping on his mouth. His tall friend then gave a hush sing language. “You're gonna replace the police siren if you keep out-bursting like that and before you open your mouth like that, no, it's nothing serious like that. This is a city not Europe from the war a few years back. The only differences is that the stuff it was made is to irritate the eyes and leaves a really unpleasant smell. They're lucky enough to hold out their tears long enough to not cry in public. It does take some time before the effect wore off so there's no harm.” He then smirked again at his genius strategy.

But Felix wasn't pleased and then removed Sam's hand, talking with his indoor voice as they went inside. “Well, you'd better not make a habit of doing that or else Bendy's gonna have to think of a counter measure. We've seen him extort some er... 'quality goods' from his connections and has multiple ways of how to 'take care' of certain people who are... not agreeing with him.” He was being careful of his words when they were looking for lettuce. He checks around the spacious but small store for potential witnesses. As much as he wanted to bring down the Alfonso mafia along with Bendy, he knew that his public image was different from the people they hardly knew him well. Some were actually Bendy's eyes and ears and they are pretty good at camouflaging their appearances.

“He knows too well that he can't lay a finger on us in day time and that he can't have ALL the powerful people on his side. That would send a red flag to 'you know who' at the head of the states. The store is empty apart from the owner, Félix. She doesn't look like she's hearing us from the cashier.” Felix glanced at the old lady who she was reading the 'good book' while she waited patiently for us. She does seem harmless... and his 'senses' told him she doesn't have a malicious aura.

He took a deep breath. “The more we encounter them apart from his goonies, the more they're getting better. Even you'd be in hot waters if we're not careful enough. I felt like I'm not getting enough experience on the filed... But... I can't ignore my responsibilities as an uncle either.” As much as he want to pursue the horrible persons that has taken two of his most beloved family members and left them in pieces, he promised himself to be the one to take care of them like his father would have done and raise them with good characters. “Félix...” Sam asked him in a tone that would say 'are you alright? You sound depressed again.'

“Y-yeah! I'm alright! I'm just doing the best I can like you've said one time! It's getting late already. Why don't I meet you up again at your office before your next trial? It's at eleven this Friday, right? And do we still have our hard evidence to prove that the RiceKrispies brothers are innocents?” He immediately cheered himself up to avoid any pessimistic energy. He himself is getting enough as it is. Sam then decided to take up his subject as they were heading to the cashier. “They're safe as a hidden treasure in a pirate book. Only I can remember their locations. I just hope it's not Jerry this time, but if he is, at least I have my trusty side kick for the show that makes it less sucky!” He joked as he messed Felix's hair. “UAGH! SAM! I hate it when you do that!”

Ka-ching!

That sound surprised Felix and he realized that Sam had paid for both his lettuce and Sam's milk. “I needed that for tomorrow morning anyways. You're welcome.” He then leaves and Felix soon follows after his lettuce was bagged. “Sam! I told you you don't need to pay for me on anything! I don't want to rely on you like that!” Felix tried to reach for his wallet again but then Sam made a halt gesture. “You want to pay me back badly for a fifty cents lettuce? Then you'd better be at that trial on Friday. I will promise not to put 'something' on Jerry's seat if he's the one that shows up .”

That made him hesitate a bit. He knew his tall friend was famous as a high powered defense attorney to most people, but he also knew that sometimes in his trials, things get a bit... unusual to say the least. Not to mention he has 'the best seat in the house' next to him in front of the judges and juries.

It's not just the victim's, accuser's and the witnesses' reputation that's on the line...

But then again, he doesn't like to 'ask' people favors, including money. He knew better.

“Promise?” He decided to take the chance. Sam nodded and then they've retired for the day.

----Author’s notes-----

I hope you’ve enjoyed this mini one shot!

I’ve had a flash back of the earliest childhood memories of the animated Disney films of Robin Hood. I just imagined about how Felix and Sam is closely related to Robin and Little John. Both the hero of an unjust ruler! (In this case, the undertaker of Chicago, Bendy.)

One of the side notes, there IS a homemade remedy of tear gases, however, I DISCLAIMED ANY SOURCES CAUSE I DO NOT WISH TO IMPLY ANY FUTURE ATTEMPTS THAT WILL INSPIRE ANYONE! Please do NOT do this even if it’s safe! Just say no!

Next is the pricing, in the 50′s era, things like groceries were really cheap... Google it.

Hope this has entertained you for a bit.

Bendy Before the Ink Machine AU and humanized Felix the cat Belongs to Marini4. Humanized Sam Toucan is mine.

[letterfromtrenwith]

Crowned With Consolation

1806: George & Elizabeth receive some devastating news, tearing their contented life apart.  

A future fic which is AU for both the series and the books, although it is inspired by some events from the later books. 

~

Prologue

“Oh, Kitty, would you please open the window?”

“Of course, Ma’am.” George and Elizabeth shared a small smile when the young housemaid could not resist pausing to take a breath of the warm summer air. As the girl departed, the faint sounds of birdsong floated into the great hall.

“Can you hear the birds? They’re very happy today!” Elizabeth smiled down at their youngest child, Nicholas, who sat contentedly on her lap, playing with the embroidered hem of her shawl. The other children had been sent back to the nursery for their lessons so he was able to spend some time alone with his parents as they lingered over the end of their breakfast.

“Because it’s summer,” he replied, quite seriously, and George could not help but laugh as Elizabeth gave him a look of astonished delight.

“Why, yes! How clever of you to know that!” Nicholas beamed at his mother’s praise, cuddling closer to her. Although just three years old, he was a bright boy, taking after his elder siblings in their tendency to precociousness. His sisters read to him from their books, while his brother took him for walks in the gardens, pointing out flowers and insects, and showing him birds’ nests in the trees. At twelve, Valentine would be off to school soon and so they were making the most of his time at home. They would miss him terribly they knew, although school was the best thing for him.

“Are you at the Bank today?” Elizabeth asked, handing the last piece of her scone to Nicholas, who ate it eagerly, smearing a spot of jam on his chubby cheek. She wiped it gently away.

“Yes, I must go this afternoon. There are some papers that need sent to Gloucester by tonight.” The Warleggan Bank had expanded greatly over the years, with offices all over the South West, and even a small one in London. Once upon a time, George had travelled often between them, but now he preferred to remain close to home as much as possible. Close to the warmth and comfort of his family. It was his age, he supposed – he was getting startlingly close to fifty, although he felt as fit as he ever had – or perhaps it was simply the years teaching him that no matter how successful his business, it could never give him the same happiness as his wife and children. “What do you have planned for today?”

“Oh, not a great deal. I was going to ride over to see Ruth, but she sent a note saying Agneta has a fever. Nothing serious, I understand, but I will visit another day.”

“That poor child is often ill. She seems prone to it.” Agneta Treneglos was one of Ruth and John Teague’s four daughters and was of an age with George and Elizabeth’s eldest daughter, Ursula, and her cousin, Loveday Carne. Malicious gossip had it that there was something wrong with her, some infirmity of mind, but on the occasions Ruth had visited with her children, the girl had seemed quite ordinary, playing with the others and joining them in pestering Cook for sweets. She was perhaps not quite so quick and lively as Ursula and Loveday, but she was only eight years old and they were both clever for their age, not to mention fortunate enough to have parents who were happy to educate girls the same as boys. A lack of sons was a great disappointment to John Treneglos, something both he and his father were not exactly shy about making known. It was very unbecoming behaviour in George’s mind; his own daughters were the light of his life, and brought him more joy than he could describe. Besides, if it was a matter of inheritance, John had a nephew to whom he could will what little of the family fortune he had not already frittered away. Then again, considering George had two much adored sons of his own and had acquired another by marriage, perhaps it was easy for him to take such an attitude.

“I think I will take the girls out into the garden this afternoon, if the weather stays fine.” Elizabeth glanced out at the clear blue skies. “The flowers are blooming beautifully now, and it is time we had some spring colour in the house.”

“I am sure they will be delighted, my dear.” All of their children had inherited their mother’s love of nature, but the girls especially so. The twins, Clare and Susannah, recently turned six, were already prone to clattering in splattered with mud and leaves, much to the despair of the housekeeper, Sarah, who complained only partly in jest that they were half-wild.

Sarah – or Mrs Ewer, more properly – entered now. Irish by birth, she had served the Warleggan family since George’s father was alive, and had been one of a handful of servants who had followed George to Trenwith upon his marriage, somewhat understandably not wishing to remain at Cardew with only Cary as master. Competent and loyal, she had been an invaluable servant over the years, and was now housekeeper. She had asked if they would keep her on even after her marriage – to a respectable coachman – and they had readily agreed. Today, her pleasant face wore a grave expression and George noticed that she was gripping her hands rather tightly together.

“Sir, there are two gentlemen here who wish to speak with you, on a matter of some importance.”

“Well, show them in.”

“Forgive me, Sir, but I think it would be better if you would step outside.” He exchanged a questioning glance with Elizabeth. This was highly irregular, but Sarah was not one for silliness or flights of fancy. If she thought this was for the best, then she would have good reason.

“Very well.” He rose, feeling a twinge in his left shoulder. He had dislocated it in a riding accident over a decade ago and now age occasionally niggled at it. Out in the stone-flagged entrance hall stood not merely two gentlemen, but two soldiers, their uniforms almost glaringly bright in dark-walled space.

“Sire, you are Mr George Warleggan, are you not?” asked the taller of the two. George looked between them, confused as to what their purpose could be.

“I am, but – “

“Stepfather of Lieutenant Geoffrey Charles Poldark, of the 81st Regiment of Foot?”

“Yes…” The solider continued to speak but George did not hear him. His voice faded away, along with everything else that had been in George’s mind that morning, because the other officer was holding out a letter. A letter edged in black.

I

Elizabeth’s grief was almost harder to bear than this own. Her misery was total and all-consuming. As he’d stepped back into the hall that day, feeling as if he was suddenly in another world than he had been when he’d left it, it hadn’t been the matter-of-fact way in which he’d just been told that his son was dead which truly agonised him, but the knowledge that he must now tell Elizabeth. She’d been playing some sort of game with Nicholas, making him laugh, sheer happiness on her face. He’d watched them for just a moment, wanting to draw out the time before he had to shatter her heart completely. She knew him too well not to see that something was dreadfully wrong as soon as she saw him. He’d watched her beautiful, beloved face fall and her soft eyes fill with tears, and he’d felt an icy hand take hold of him inside and squeeze as if it were trying to crush the very life out of him.

Such was the depths of her despair that when, about three weeks after that day, he had not been able to find her, a terrible possibility had occurred to him. A truly dreadful thought which had almost paralysed him with horror, until he realised that there was one last place he had not looked. He had not thought to look there, because he himself could not bear to go there.

Geoffrey Charles’ bedroom was exactly as he had left it on his last visit home. His books piled on his writing desk and the bedside table, the mantelpiece littered with childhood keepsakes – shells, old coins, some of his toy soldiers, now faded and worn. The sight of their painted red coats made George look away quickly.

Elizabeth lay on the bed, her mourning dress flowing inky-black across the coverlet. Her face was wan, her eyes red and she was clutching what it took George a moment to recognise as Geoffrey Charles’ school coat. He had not realised that the boy had kept it, but then again, by all accounts, his stepson had fonder memories of his schooldays than George.

“Here you are, my dear. I have been looking for you.” He was careful not to let any of the panic he had briefly felt into his voice.

“I thought there might be something of him left in here, but there’s nothing.” Her voice was so soft George had to take a step closer to hear her. “It just all reminds me that he’ll never come back here – never read his books or wear his clothes, never look out of his window or sleep in his bead.”

Her voice broke into a quiet sob and George felt her words keenly. The shock of Geoffrey Charles’ loss had been so brutal, so sudden, with no time to prepare or say goodbye. Yes, they had known he was going off to war, to face terrible danger at every moment. They had seen their friends and neighbours experience the loss and suffering of their husbands, brothers and sons; and yet, somehow, George knew that some part of them both had always believed that Geoffrey Charles would come out all right, that somehow not even a war was enough to take him from them. But they had been wrong, so very wrong. That spirited, clever young man, with his love of riding and cards and sensational novels, his ready smile and dandyish air, was gone. Snatched away, leaving behind only a great hole ripped in the lives of those who loved him.

Not knowing what to say – he hardly knew what to say to anyone at the moment – George came to sit beside her on the bed.  She shifted slightly, laying her head on his lap.

“We cannot even bury him,” she whispered. Pain poured through her every word. Elizabeth was a wonderful, loving, devoted mother to all of her children, but Geoffrey Charles was her first born, their special bond strengthened by the time after Francis’ death when they had only had each other. George knew that nothing he said could make it better, so he simply sat and stroked her hair in silence. After a while, although he did not know how long, he heard her breathing slow and felt her relax against him. He dared not move for fear of disturbing her, so he leant back against the headboard and closed his eyes. It would be an uncomfortable night, but it was worth it to bring Elizabeth even a moment of comfort.

~

The old Poldark family church was cool even in the height of summer. There was a faint hint of damp, in fact, and George absently thought that he must have word with the estate manager about seeing to it. Perhaps he would speak to the stonemason when he came about Geoffrey Charles’ memorial. There may be no body for them to bury, lost on the battlefields of Europe, but his passing would not go unmarked. His stone would go next to the one commemorating his father. The letters of Francis’ name were looking a touch worn, George noticed; that would have to be fixed as well.

George had never been a man of any particular piety. He attended church as often as was thought proper, but was not especially interested in religion. The clergy spent their time lecturing their flocks on temperance and Christian charity, but were almost inevitably a feckless, grasping bunch themselves. However, he had found this place oddly comforting these past weeks. It was quiet and peaceful. Here, he could be alone with his grief. At home, he spent all his time worrying about Elizabeth and the children. He did not come often, and when he did he asked Sarah and Kitty to take care of Elizabeth as best they could, without pestering her of course.

Originally, he had told only Valentine what had happened. He was too old, and too intelligent to be deceived, and George had not wanted him to find out any other way. He at first tried to be stoic, with the typical twelve year old boy’s idea that he must be very grown up about everything, but his resolve had quickly crumbled and he had cried properly for the first time since he was a little boy. It pained George deeply to see him so upset. He himself had been barely older than Valentine when his father died; there was no right age to have death first intrude on one’s life.

“I – I never wrote to him,” he’s stuttered between sobs.

“Yes, you did, I sent your letters myself.”

“No, I – I mean, the last time. His last letter, I kept putting off writing back, and I never did, and now he’s…”

“Shhhh, my boy. Geoffrey Charles did not need letters to know that you were thinking of him.” Despite their age difference, the two boys had always got along well, Geoffrey Charles patiently reading to him from Mrs Barbauld, and playing hide and seek with him in the maze of old attic rooms upstairs then, as Valentine grew, taking him riding and showing him how to play chess.

George had extracted a promise that he would not tell any of the other children, nor any of his cousins. However, Ursula, as usual, could not be fooled. One day, as he sat alone in the parlour, Morwenna having managed to cajole Elizabeth into at least sitting outside with her, if not taking a walk, Ursula had burst in quite suddenly, a determined look on her little face.

“Papa, is Geoffrey Charles dead?” The blunt, direct question was typical of her. “I asked Valentine but he won’t tell me.”

“Ursula…” It had been on the tip of George’s tongue to lie, but he had seen that there was no point. “Yes, my love, he is. I am so very sorry.”

He could see from her face that a small part of her young mind had hoped that her Papa would tell her she was being silly, that it was all a terrible mistake, but he had not. In the end, she had cried into his coat for an hour, every sob like knife in his chest.

The younger children could sense the terrible cloud of pain that hovered over their once idyllic home, but George absolutely could not bring himself to tell them its cause. Nicholas was certainly far too little. Perhaps the twins were not, but he could at least try to preserve their innocence a little longer.

He was startled out of his reverie by the church door opening behind him, and the soft brush of a woman’s shoes upon the floor. The woman did not hesitate to approach, but he did not look up, not until she stood over him.

“May I sit?”

“Of course, my dear.” Morwenna Carne was a married woman with children now, and almost thirty years old at that, but George still often thought of her as the sweet young girl who had come to them as Geoffrey Charles’ governess. Although she had stopped being that girl when she absconded from her home and her engagement to the odious Osborne Whitworth to marry Drake Carne, a decision which may have caused a great upheaval, but which she had blessedly never had reason to regret.

“How is Elizabeth?…But that is a foolish question, of course.” She shook her head, looking down at hands clasped on her lap. It may have been warm outside, but she was dressed quite sombrely, her long coat a pale grey. In deference to the church, perhaps, or her own way of mourning. The special connection which had formed between her and her charge had never lessened over the years, and although she had endeavoured to bear up for the sake of Elizabeth and the children, George knew she must feel her own sense of loss just as deeply as they did. “I will visit again this week, if she would like.”

“I am sure that she would.” Morwenna had been the only visitor Elizabeth would see. George had turned away several in the first weeks, from the genuinely well-meaning likes of Caroline Enys, to the morbidly nosy Mrs Teague. By now, they had stopped coming. He did not miss them.

“I – I have something I must tell you. Drake says I should not, but I believe it would be wrong of me to keep it to myself.” George looked at her curiously. She sounded regretful, almost guilty, but he could not imagine why. “You will remember when Geoffrey Charles first announced he wished to join the Army? You were both so set against it, but he would not listen to you. Elizabeth begged me to persuade him not to go, and I told her that I would but –“

“But?”

“I did tell him that I did not want him to go, but I also told him that I could not tell him what to do, and that he must trust his own judgement. I encouraged him to go to his death.” Her voice wavered at the last word, and she looked away, her hat covering her face. It would be easy to be angry with her, but he was not. She had not fired the rifle or the canon which had killed Geoffrey Charles – it was not her fault.

“You knew him as well as any of us, Morwenna. Even if you had told him unequivocally that you would never approve of his going, do you think he would have listened?”

“No, I do not suppose that he would,” she conceded after a moment.

“If he had been considering any other decision, I might well have told him the same thing.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod, although she kept her eyes down.

“I just – I wish there was something I could do. To – to make it better.”

“We all wish that, my dear.”

II

All of the pain and misery gathering at the house had to boil over eventually, and it did so one day in early October. The summer had passed in a sort of grey blur, each day much like the next. George continued with his work purely out of necessity – he could take no pleasure in it at all now. Almost one penny in three which passed through his hands had something to do with the war. It had tripled their income, but at a terrible cost. The thought of it had made him somewhat uneasy right from the beginning, but since the loss of Geoffrey Charles he loathed it. He would gladly throw every coin into the sea if he could.

Sometimes, he would forget for moment, and for that all-too-brief second it was as if their world had never been destroyed. As if his dear wife were not consumed by her agony, his children’s young lives falling in the shadow of death. As if he had not lost his son. George had been Geoffrey Charles’ godfather before he became his stepfather; he had held the boy at his christening, encouraged by a smiling Elizabeth, her pure adoration for her child written all over her face. In the first months of George’s marriage to Elizabeth, his relationship with Geoffrey Charles had not been the easiest, but over the years they had become much closer, and George loved him as he loved all of his children. He had never hesitated to tell anyone who asked that he had three sons, and Geoffrey Charles had quite happily introduced his friends to ‘my parents’.

If George was laid low by his grief, it was naturally taking a much greater toll on Elizabeth. She had lost weight, rarely eating, and he knew she was not sleeping properly. Partly because he was not either, but he often woke during the night to find her sitting at the window seat, simply staring out into the darkness, or frequently gone altogether. The servants had told him that she had taken to wandering the house at night, like some melancholy spirit. She would rarely speak unless spoken to, and then very little. The children tiptoed around her, not wishing to upset her further, although she tried her best to hide her sadness from them. It hurt the youngest children the most, because they did not know the reason for their mother’s melancholy.

The time was rapidly approaching for Valentine to go to school. George had considered putting it off, and asked Valentine if he wished to stay at home a while longer. To his surprise, Valentine had said not.

“It is only proper that I go….I do not think Geoffrey Charles would approve if I did not.” That had brought the first genuine smile to George’s face in a long time. Valentine was probably right. Geoffrey Charles had done very well at school, and often spoken of it to his siblings. Upon reflection, George thought that going away might in fact be good for Valentine – he could make new friends his own age, and find something else to think about other than the absence of his brother.

When George had attempted to broach the subject with Elizabeth, she merely nodded her understanding, but commented no further. He had seen her watching sadly as Valentine’s boxes were piled up in the hall, ready to be loaded into the carriage, but she’d turned away as soon as she saw him watching her.

That night, she barely touched her dinner yet again, disappearing into the parlour. George sent Valentine to bed, and looked in on the others, sitting with Ursula until she fell asleep, and watching Nicholas dream his innocent dreams. He found Elizabeth staring into the fireplace, sewing sitting long untouched on the table beside her.

“My dear,” she turned her head slightly towards him. At first, she had clung to him for comfort, but every day he felt her drawing further away, further into herself. He could stand it no longer. “I beg you, you must eat, and I know you have not been sleeping. I cannot bear to see you this way. Geoffrey Charles would not wish you to suffer like this.”

“How would you know?” He was so surprised by her question that he did not answer, and she turned entirely in her chair to face him. “How would you know what he would wish?! You were not his father! If you were any sort of father to him you would have stopped from going! He could still be here, at home, with me, but you let him go! You let him go and now he’s dead!”

George could not reply; her words had cut him deeply, to the point he felt tears prick at the back of his eyelids. After she had finished her tirade, her sudden burst of energy seemed to drain out of her and sat heavily back down, looking away once more. He did the only thing that he could think of – he turned and walked away from her.

He sat up the rest of the night in his study, not wishing to go to bed alone. There was a chamber upstairs set aside for his use, but he and Elizabeth had spent barely more than a handful of nights apart since their wedding. He had no desire to lie alone in a cold bed that smelled of nothing but laundered sheets.

After a while, he opened one of the desk drawers and took out two letters, one well-read, the creases deep from being opened and refolded so many times. The other was almost pristine, despite being several months old. George had read the first letter Geoffrey Charles had sent him after his departure many times over. Despite Elizabeth’s assertions, George had in fact had a furious row with Geoffrey Charles over his decision to enlist – George demanding that he think of his mother and siblings, of his responsibilities to his estate, but Geoffrey Charles had been defiant and in the end George threw up his hands in defeat.

“Very well! Go if you wish!” They had barely spoken thereafter, and George had regretted that their last words had been cross long before Geoffrey Charles was lost. This letter had arrived a few weeks after he left home/

My dear Uncle

I write to you from Plymouth; we depart tomorrow at last. I wish that my departure from home had been a more harmonious one, but I want you to know that I am not upset with you. I understand entirely why both you and Mama feel as you do, and I cannot blame you for it, but I must do what I believe is right. Please be assured that I am happy with my choice, even if it pains me dreadfully to leave you all.

You asked me to think of Mama, and of the children, and of my estate. I could not say it then, but the truth is that I feel able to go because I know they will all be in your excellent care, Uncle. Knowing that you are all waiting for me at home gives me the strength to go forth, and I believe will help me come back safely.

I will write as often as I can, and I ask that you do the same. Tell me all – what new words has Nicholas learned? What little games have the twins devised? Which of the horses has foaled? What gossip is old Mrs Teague spreading now? It will help me to miss you all less.

Please do not be angry with me, Uncle. I could not bear that.

Your affectionate son,

Geoffrey Charles

George could almost recite the words from memory now, and they remained as simultaneously comforting and saddening as ever. Some part of George agreed with Elizabeth – he should have forbidden Geoffrey Charles from going. Or at least tried. He had always indulged Geoffrey Charles, partly out of affection and partly to please Elizabeth, but perhaps he should have been sterner. George glanced at the portrait of Francis on the wall. Its glaze was yellowing now, but his long gone friend’s gaze was as direct as ever. Would Francis have been able to keep Geoffrey Charles at home? With a sigh, George turned to the second letter. It had never been opened, its ominous black seal still in place. The letter the young officer had given George that fateful day; it contained the report of Geoffrey Charles’ death. Nobody had especially wanted to read it, and George had locked it in his drawer. He had taken it out and turned it over in his hands once or twice, but still it remained sealed.

I must read it, he thought. It is only right that I should know the fate I allowed him to go to.

After so long, the wax parted easily from the paper, and George steeled himself for a moment before reading the small, neat hand.

Dear Mr & Mrs Warleggan

It is with regret that I must inform you that your son, Lieutenant Geoffrey Charles Poldark, of the 81st Regiment of Foot, has been killed in action. He fought and died bravely at the Battle of Maida, where the French troops were beaten back by his battalion. I am told that he sustained his fatal wounds while rescuing his fellow men who were pinned down by enemy fire. He served his country with great honour, and his heroism will not be forgotten.

Your &c.

Major Edward Darnley.

So that was it. A single, formal paragraph detailing the end of a young man’s life. George might as well have burned it as read it, it made no difference. He felt neither better nor worse. Geoffrey Charles was still dead; the fact that he was hailed a hero did not change that. Dropping the letter back into his drawer, George closed it with a click and sat back in his chair.

Sometime after midnight, he was disturbed by the door opening, and realised that he must have been dozing. Elizabeth stood there in her night-clothes, her light dressing gown giving her a ghostly appearance in the moonlight. He could see that she had been crying.

“Oh, George, I am sorry for what I said, it was so dreadful.” She came and knelt beside his chair, her eyes shining with tears as she looked up at him. “Of course I do not blame you and it was so very wrong of me to say that I did. And you were a father to Geoffrey Charles, he told me so himself many times over. I spoke so cruelly do you, can you ever forgive me?”

“Oh, my love…” He stroked her cheek softly and she closed her eyes, leaning into the touch. “There is nothing to forgive.”

“But – “

“No, Elizabeth. I cannot deny that your words cut deep, but only because I have sometimes thought them myself.”

“Oh, George…”  She rested her head on the arm of the chair and gently ran his fingers through her hair. After a few quiet moments, she spoke again. “You were right to say that Geoffrey Charles would not want this for us. For me. I believe he would be quite cross with me, in fact.”

“He would never be cross with you, my love, but I know that he would hate to see you so unhappy. No one could ever blame you for feeling so – certainly not I – but it pains me to see it consume you like this. If you continue as you have, you will make yourself ill and…I cannot bear to lose you as well.”

“George, I am so very sorry. You have only tried to care for me and I have given you nothing in return when you too have been hurting. I have been so selfish, and such a poor mother to the other children besides.”

“You did not want them to see your pain. You have done nothing wrong, Elizabeth, not to my mind. Many others would have done the same in your position.”

“But you did not. You have been so very strong where I have been weak.”

“To grieve is not a weakness, Elizabeth. Your love for Geoffrey Charles is not a weakness. And I will say, I have not felt very strong these past weeks.”

“Oh, my love…” Elizabeth took her hand in both of his and kissed the back of it. “Now, I think, we must both try our best to be strong together. Not just for the children, but for ourselves too. That is what Geoffrey Charles would want.

~

The November air was bitingly cold against his face as George stepped out of the Bank. He had barely been to the offices in months, disliking being away from home, and unable to concentrate. There had been some business he simply could not put off, however, and so he had made the journey into Truro. This time, his reluctance to leave had blessedly little to do with worry. Elizabeth’s release of anger, and their subsequent talk in his study, seemed to have done her some good. She was still grieving, of course; they would all be for some time yet, but he had been pleased to see some of her old warmth return to her. She was eating and sleeping better, and her health was much improved. The children had noticed the uptick in her spirits as well. Until he had been nearly bowled over by Nicholas and the twins barrelling along a corridor after Sarah’s little terrier, he had not realised how quiet they had been of late. Although they had not known the reason for it, their parents’ sadness had subdued them.

Elizabeth still regretted her words to him that night, although he had assured her many times that he was not upset with her. In the heat of the moment he had been stung by hearing his own guilty thoughts from her lips, but he had truly meant it when he told her that she did not need to ask his forgiveness. She had still wished to try to explain herself, turning to him one night in their bed, her brow creased in a small frown.

“For all those weeks, I was so very angry. It built and built inside of me. I was angry at the war, at the generals who order young men to their deaths, at whichever damn Frenchman shot my boy; I was angry at the whole world, even Geoffrey Charles for going in the first place. And then I took my rage out upon you and I realised how foolish I was. It would not bring him back, and all I had accomplished by it was to push you away when I most need you. I know that I have not shown it, but you are my greatest comfort, George. Even long before this, from when we were first married, I have always felt that I could face anything if you are with me.”

“Elizabeth…” Too overwhelmed to say anymore, he had simply gathered her close, kissing her forehead.

It was perhaps remembering this which had him so distracted as he crossed the street towards the confectioner’s that he almost ran into the woman in the green coat. He was halfway through an apology when she looked up from under her hat and he realised it was Demelza Poldark.

Save brief glimpses across a ballroom or a banquet hall, George had barely seen anything of the Nampara Poldarks for he did not know how long. Years. His intense dislike for Ross had never changed, and it was safe to presume it remained mutual, but over time they had both become too preoccupied – and too old – to have a care as to do anything about it. George had sent a note to Nampara to tell them of Geoffrey Charles’ death; they had been his family, after all, and so far as George knew, Geoffrey Charles had still spoken to his aunt and cousins or occasion. For some time afterwards he had half-expected Ross to come barging into Trenwith, demanding they all get out at once. With Geoffrey Charles gone, Ross and his family were the last of the Poldarks, so the family property now surely reverted to them. Not wishing to distress Elizabeth or the children, he had put off broaching the subject of them having to leave Trenwith, but he knew he could not delay much longer.

With a polite nod, he stepped around Demelza and continued on his way, until he was pulled up short by the sound of her voice.

“It’s like a shard of glass in your heart.” Of course he knew exactly to what she referred, for Demelza Poldark had lost a child, too. It was many years ago now, almost eighteen if he was not mistaken, but he was sure such things did not slip easily away into the mists of time. George had thought often these past months of how young Geoffrey Charles had been, how much of his life he had yet to live; Julia Poldark had been barely more than a babe in arms when she died, the question of who and what she would grow up to be left forever unanswered. Behind him, he heard Demelza take a step forward, and he turned his head but did not face her. He did not think that he could. “It pierces your soul, and the agony is so terrible you think it will never end. You think it will kill you. Sometimes, it seems like it’s getting a little better and then something will remind you – a word, a sound – and the pain comes back all over again. One day the wound will heal over, but the scar is always there. It will never stop hurting, but it does get a little better.”

“….” He wanted to say something, but could not. With a short, sharp nod of acknowledgement, he strode away. In her desire to be kind – even after everything that had passed between their families over the years – Demelza had inadvertently re-opened the very wound to which she referred. After he was sure he was out of her sight, he had to spend ten minutes standing in the shadow of the alley next to the shop until he was able to master himself.

III

The answer to the mystery as to why Ross had not come to claim his family property was answered one day early in December when an officious little man appeared at the house, announcing that he was Mr Silas Pettyfer Esq, Geoffrey Charles’ attorney, and he was here to read them his will.

“I would have come earlier, but it seems that the Army neglected to inform me of Mr Poldark’s passing,” he complained in his nasal voice, giving George a look of mild disapproval. “Among others.”

George frowned. He did not especially care to be chastised by complete strangers in his own home, let alone over such a distressing matter.

“I might have informed you, Sir, had I not been entirely unaware of your existence until this moment.” That took the wind out of Mr Pettyfer’s sails somewhat and he coughed awkwardly, fishing in his little folio for some papers.

“Mr Poldark had not informed you he had made a will?”

“Lieutenant Poldark, and no he had not, although I cannot imagine why.”

“Perhaps he did not wish to upset us,” Elizabeth said quietly. George covered her hand with his and she gave him a small, sad smile.

“Shall I begin?” Pettyfer looked between them.

“Forgive me, Mr Pettyfer, but I believe we know its contents, the Nampara Poldarks…”

“Ah, no, Mr Warleggan. That is just it. Mr – Lieutenant Poldark expressly made the will to avoid the automatic passing of the family property.”

“He did?” Elizabeth was frowning, and George knew his expression would match hers.

“Yes, Ma’am. Aside from some small bequests to his cousins – that is, Mr Jeremy and Misses Clowance and Isabella-Rose Poldark – and some personal items willed to, ah, Mr & Mrs Drake Carne, Mr Poldark has left the entirety of his estate to you both, to divide as you wish amongst your remaining children. I have the will here, if you should wish to see it.” George took it, a combination of incredulity at its contents, and years of business teaching him never to agree to a document without reading it. It did indeed reflect what Mr Pettyfer had said, and was, so far as George could see, properly signed and witnessed. He passed the paper to Elizabeth and, out of the corner of his eye, saw her trace the loops and whirls of Geoffrey Charles’ signature with her fingertips.

“Was that everything?” If Mr Pettyfer was displeased at being treated so abruptly, he endeavoured not to show it.

“Not quite. There is also this.” He produced a folded letter. George immediately recognised Geoffrey Charles’ seal. “I was to give it to you if…”

“I see. Thank you.”

“Now, unless there is anything else you wish to discuss I must visit…Nampara?…to discuss those bequests.”

“Does Ross Poldark know that he is no longer to inherit Trenwith?” George did not really know why he asked.

“Yes, I believe Mr Poldark informed him before he made the will.”

“Thank you. If there are any items for them to collect, please tell the Poldark children they may come for them whenever they wish.” George might have once felt some sense of satisfaction at Ross being deprived of the property, but now he felt nothing. It was not the value of Trenwith that would have been the greatest loss. Elizabeth had lived here for most of her life, since she was barely twenty years old and all of the children had been born here; for George, it was the place he had been happiest in his life. It was where all of their memories were. To leave it all behind forever would have been deeply saddening.

After Pettyfer had departed with an obsequious sketch of a bow, George and Elizabeth sat quietly for a while. Eventually, George picked up the letter which had been left on the tea table. He held it out to her, but she shook her head.

“Read it to me? Please?”

“Of course, my love.” They sat close together on the sofa and, as he opened the letter, Elizabeth rested her head on his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, George prepared to read their son’s final words to them.

My dear Mama, Uncle George, Valentine, Ursula, Susannah, Clare and little Nicholas,

As you are reading this letter, it seems that the worst has come to pass. Before I sat down to write, I thought that it would easy to decide what to say to you all, but now I put pen to paper I find it almost impossible.

There is not enough parchment and ink in the land to capture how much you mean to me, and how deeply I will miss you all. You will be always in my thoughts while I am away from home, and I am sorry if we shall never see each other again. I wish only to come home safely to you all, but of course that must not be the case.

As this is so inadequate a way to express what I wish to say, perhaps I can discuss some everyday matters instead. If Mr Pettyfer has shown you my will, you may be wondering as to its contents. The Poldarks may be my family in name, but you are my family in my heart. If I cannot be there for them in life, I wish to do something for the children in death, even if that is simply to make sure they will always have a home here. I know, Uncle, that you are more than capable of providing for their futures, but let me help you also.

Oh! There is so much in my heart I wish to say, but I cannot make come out of the end of this pen.it is my fervent hope that I have made it all plain to you over the years. Please do not weep too sorely for my memory, but remember the happy times we have all had together.

If I allow myself, I will continue this letter forever, as if by doing do I could put off the event it is designed for. I think I shall have to be content to sign myself…

Your ever loving

Geoffrey Charles

~

There was nothing but a sheet of pure white outside of the windows, wind swirling the flake madly. Snow had been expected all over Christmas but the sky had remained quite clear – much to the disappointment of the children – until almost the very end of January. Now, it seemed quite relentless. Thankfully, Valentine would have arrived safely back at school before it began. He had returned for the Christmas holidays filled with confidence and good cheer, much to his parents’ delight. They had hoped school would be good for him, and so it had proved.

It had been a lovely Christmas in the end, although Geoffrey Charles’ absence had hung heavily over them all. About two weeks before the festive day, George had almost bought him a Christmas present, forgetting for a moment that Geoffrey Charles would not be coming home for the season, or ever again. George looked up now at the fine portrait of him on the wall – a Christmas gift from Morwenna; she had come to George a week before to show it to him.

“It is a larger version of the miniature I painted for his twenty-first birthday. I wanted to ask you if you thought it would be….I am worried it would upset Elizabeth, or the children.”

“No, my dear, quite to the contrary. I believe it would please them very much indeed.” And so it had. Elizabeth had wept a little over it, but not in misery. She had become much more able to remember Geoffrey Charles with happiness. Now, the portrait hung in pride of place over the fire, above another piece of Morwenna’s work – matching silhouettes of George and Elizabeth. She had a truly find hand.

Wet flakes spattered against the windows, obscuring the view even further. George had been writing letters in the parlour – although it would be days before they could go anywhere – and was now resting his eyes; he had been fighting a losing battle against the need for spectacles for several years now, and it was only a matter of time before he was forced to surrender.

With a soft click, the door swung open and Elizabeth entered. The first thing George noticed about her was her dress. Although her spirits had gradually improved these past few months, she had remained in her mourning clothes – her previous array of blues and pinks and greens replaced by grey and black. George had said nothing to her about it; if that was how Elizabeth wished to mourn her child, he would not stop her.

Today, however, the black was gone. Her dress was not quite so bright as some of those she used to wear, but it was a warm brown, almost the exact colour of drinking chocolate. It suited her eyes, and her simple gold necklace.

“Elizabeth….” She glanced down at herself with a soft smile.

“Do you like it?”

“Very much so, my love. But…if I may ask, what has brought this on?” Elizabeth came to sit next to him at the table. There was something different about her, something else besides the dress, but George could not put his finger on what. She was smiling, but she had been doing that more often recently, some of the light returning to her eyes. Of course, their loss would never leave them, but it pleased George to see her able to be happy again.

“The time just seemed right. Although, perhaps there is a particular reason why I feel I must put away my mourning garb.”

“There is?”

“Yes.” She took his hands. “For, although we have suffered a great loss, we have now received a great blessing.”

“What – “ He frowned, and Elizabeth gave him an affectionate look.

“I am with child, George.” He had to confess to being entirely astonished. Such wondrous news…and so unexpected. Elizabeth would be forty-three this year, and as time had passed since Nicholas’ birth, they had come to accept he would be their last child. But now….

“Are you quite certain?”

“Yes!” She frowned a little. “You are pleased, are you not?”

“Of course! Forgive me, my dear, I am simply surprised. Wonderfully surprised.” 

Epilogue

The street was busy today, filled with people – servants hurrying about on errands, gentlemen striding along with importance, ladies twirling their parasols as they strolled. A few carriages trundled by, sunlight glancing off their livery. Two young officers passed by, laughing at some jest, and George felt a pull in his chest.

It was just over a year now since Geoffrey Charles’ death at the Battle of Maida. They missed him as much as ever, but Demelza Poldark had been right – the pain was still there, but it was not quite so sharp as it once was.

Glorious sunshine filled his office at the Bank, making it almost glow. Recently, he had been able to pay more proper attention to his work again. Geoffrey Charles’ desire to provide what he could for the children even if he himself was no longer here had motivated something in George. He could not neglect the businesses he had devoted years of his life to building up, for the sake not only of Valentine, who would one day inherit them, or his other children whose futures depended upon their success, but to all those whose livelihoods were connected to them.

He still preferred to be at home with his family, especially now. Valentine was home from school for the summer, and the children had spent the long, sunny days playing in the gardens. Last summer had been a cold, dark time for them all, and for no reason to do with the weather. Valentine and Ursula still talked of their elder brother, but it was with happy remembrance as much as sadness. The twins had to be told in the end, asking too many questions about when Geoffrey Charles would be coming home. Like their siblings, they had been terribly upset, but had borne their sorrow with impressive maturity for their young age. Nicholas would find out when he was old enough; being so small when Geoffrey Charles left, he had not known his brother the way the others had. Perhaps that would lessen the sting a touch.

After a sip of tea, George stifled a yawn. The reason for his tiredness was their greatest joy – their youngest child, a beautiful baby girl, arrived only a week ago. They had named her Flora, and to them she was a true blessing, a sign of brighter times to come after a truly dark time in their lives. Of course, the fact that she had had a sibling she would never know was always with them, and she would be told all about her brave brother, who had lost his life fighting for what he believed was right.

Returning to his desk, George scanned the shelves behind it for a particular ledger he needed. Behind him the door opened, and a secretary gave a discreet cough.

“Sir, there is a young man here to see you.”

“Show him in, Preston.” George dropped the ledger onto his desk as Preston’s light tread was replaced with a heavier, bolder one. He looked up to greet his visitor and paused. He felt the teacup slip from his hand, heard it crash upon the floor, but he did nothing, frozen in place.

“Good Heavens, Uncle! Am I such a shocking sight?”

~

Title part of a quote from Shakespeare’s Anthony & Cleopatra: “For grief is crowned with consolation.”

[tyrantdk]

Harpy!AtemxNeko!Yugi au

-Slides this over to @shiirojasmine @carmenvoong @shywolf18 @steampunk-pharaoh @rowexz @atemina-rubygibb @kitslani-screziato @huntertheblackwolf @zianyahk @kudalyn @mazkat899 @auster-stri @magical-ocean-birb @minatolover1 @mermaidfightclub @rubyssapphie @tarashima @kiri-kay @shellsmind @redheadcutie @spirituallupine @ray-vani @lilbitobsessive @taura-arts @dragondjinnie & @lotusxcos- Yes, I tagged a lot of ppl. I just wanted to make sure that everyone who liked the idea post got to read the actual fic.Here's the creature feature everyone! Do enjoy. :)

If you like it enough leave a comment, reblog, or hit the heart! It lets me know if this au is worth continuing or not. 

Atem looked down from his high nest. He was kept in a secluded aerie with plenty of sunlight and a tall man made cliff. The human keepers were bringing in a new resident. He called to them as he spread his arm-wings. He glided down gracefully. He hopped out of his aerie to study the new creature.

Dusk violet eyes studied him as they approached each other. Atem tapped the other’s button nose with his pointer talon. It scrunched up to his amusement. He knew he wasn’t a harpy like him. Feline like ears poked out from the side of his head. A tail flicked behind him.

Ears and tail were silver with black spotted fur. His hair was mostly black, but silver bangs framed his face. The violet eyes were slit like a cat’s. The new resident pushed his face into Atem’s neck. He inhaled deeply, tail shivering.

“You are a strange cat.” He said as the keepers pulled him back. “You smell very nice though.” He winked as they dragged him away. Atem flushed as he waddled back into his aerie. A female keeper ruffled his hair. He chirped happily. He rather loved having his hair played with.

He flew back up to his nest. He bedded down to sunbathe. He turned to watch the keepers lead the feline to a different part of isolation. His blush returned as he thought about the way the other had looked at him. Atem curled up. He wondered why he suddenly felt so lonely. He hadn’t felt like this before. Perhaps the other would like the sun as much as he did. Maybe he would be his?

A shiver worked its way down his spine. His talons clicked softly against the polished tile. His eyes glanced around the sterile white rooms. He could see the occupants through the glass doors. He hated this part of iso.

He whimpered weakly as he passed by a few rooms with other harpies. Female harpies. Atem lived in his isolated aerie for a reason. He had been severely traumatized by female harpies when he was younger. It was why he had never shown any interest in females when he had reached breeding age. Maybe the new kitty could help?

He smiled as he pressed against the right door. The other was curled up on a giant padded cat tree. He tapped the glass. One ear flicked toward the door. He turned around. Atem waved as he smiled. The other stretched languidly before climbing down.

“If it isn’t my strange kitty. What are you doing here?” He mimed for quiet as he worked with the knob. When he had the door open, he stepped out. He held out his hand shyly to the other. “My name is Yugi. What’s yours?” He asked as he took his hand.

“Atem.” He replied in a rough little used voice. Yugi pressed into the strange neko. He purred deeply. He was going to mate with him. The other pulled away to tug him along. He followed Atem, curious as to where he was being led. He gasped as they entered the glass aerie. It had been so long since he’d seen the stars.

Talons gently carded through his hair. He pushed his head back into the touch. Yugi wrapped his arms around Atem. He buried his face into his neck. He licked over his pulse. He groaned softly. He bit gently at the darkly tanned skin.

Atem leapt away with a screech of terror. He fell to the floor as he backed away. Yugi followed after him. His tail twitched as he prepared to leap. He jumped. He caught the other. He had him pinned back to the ground.

“Sh, pretty Atem. I’m marking you, so no one can take you away from me. My pretty Atem.” He purred as he repeated his bite. He sucked on the skin as his teeth grazed it. He was going to leave such a pretty bruise on him. Atem trilled softly in pleasure, the sound turning into a moan. When the other pulled away, there was a large purple mark on his neck.

Yugi smiled proudly at the sight. That was his mark on his mate. His purr grew in volume. He bared his own neck, waiting for his own mark. Instead, he received a gentle nuzzle and a coo. Feathered arms wrapped around him. The nuzzle turned into fleeting kisses. Atem trailed up his neck.

“Yu-gi mine?”

“Yes.” Slightly chapped lips closed over his and moved clumsily. He didn’t care. The other hadn’t rejected him as his mate. He had been accepted! There was plenty of time to teach him how to properly kiss later. Right now, Yugi just needed to be near him. The arms around him tightened as Atem stood up. He shifted to have a better grip of his shoulders and hips. “Take me to bed?” He murmured in his ear.

He yowled as their feet left the ground. His claws dug into his mate. They were flying! He watched in amazement as the other pumped his arm-wings. They ascended to a cliff ledge. It was the only ledge and led into a cave. The cave was dimly lit with small led candles. They were hidden in little niches and crevices.

“You’re not a cat.” He said. His answer was an amused smile as Atem walked past him. Yugi followed after, looking around the cave. Little trinkets were scattered about, glinting. A curios sounding tweet gained his attention. They were at the end of the cave, a fairly large circular room.

There was an equally large straw bird’s nest in the middle of the room. More shiny trinkets poked out of the straw. A large quilt was laid over the nest, which was very thick. Pillows of different shapes, colors, and designs were scattered about along with blankets of various sizes.

“Like?”

“I love it! Come cuddle with me?” He laughed as Atem enthusiastically tugged him toward the nest. The pair curled around each other so tightly, only their skin tone could tell what limb belonged to who. They had piled the blankets on them, creating a cozy cocoon. The pillows were gathered under them. Atem cooed happily as he nuzzled the other.

He was just so happy! He didn’t feel lonely at all, and Yugi picked him as his mate! He felt comfortable with him in a way he hadn’t before. He basked in the attention he showered on him. He hadn’t had attention like this since before his birth mother had passed away. Atem trilled in joy. It just felt right. His mama had said he would know.

“Yu-gi mine.” He said as he pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“My pretty Atem. Sleep, Mate. Sleep. I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere.”