#it was scarily easy getting into snow's mind... weird

[slipnoose]

𝗕𝗜𝗥𝗗 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗨𝗟𝗟𝗦𝗘𝗬𝗘.

THE BALLAD. | SNOWBAIRD CENTRIC. | DRABBLE | CUTFACE.

Walking flesh, the body of a woman and the mind of a temptress. Lucy Gray had subdued him with her siren songs for that short while, but had failed to recall a man's role in history. Always overcoming. Always conquering.

[deetheteadrinkingdragon]

A Tail of Purrs and Realisations

It seemed that each passing day, Callum learned more and more about his once elusive elf friend.

It was usually in their rare down time, when the group could take a breather and just be for a while, and Callum, though he would never admit it out loud, couldn’t help but find himself fascinated with her.

---

It’s done! Here’s my gift for the @tdpholidayexchange 

Merry Christmas @raylsheart !!! Surprise! It was me all along ahahaha! So here it is, for you, something soft and sweet and rayllum. 

You can read the whole thing under the cut! 

A/N: This is for Finn’s AU, in which elves have tails, and slightly more cat-like tendencies. It was incredibly fun to write! 

It seemed that each passing day, Callum learned more and more about his once elusive elf friend.

It was usually in their rare down time, when the group could take a breather and just be for a while, and Callum, though he would never admit it out loud, couldn’t help but find himself fascinated with her. All of Rayla’s little quirks, her disposition, and how to read her moods, (he made a mental note of how her ears and tails would twitch, even so subtly and what they could mean) he found himself becoming more aware of her. Wanting to.

One such thing he had discovered more recently was that Rayla was actually a cuddler. This was understandably a huge surprise at first, she had seemed so distant once, but after slowly warming up to the boy, Rayla would often shuffle closer and closer in the evenings, until she could timidly drape her arms around him and bury her face in his shoulder. The first time, Callum had stiffened nervously, but over the past few days it had become natural, so much so that he would often invite her in with open arms and a smile.

It was always nice, feeling her warmth and weight against him, especially after those days where he had been sure that they would- that she would die. He would hold her close, rest his head against hers, and usually end up drawing for a while, and Rayla would drift off peacefully in his arms. It was intimate between friends to be sure, but it felt like something they both desperately needed and craved, the physical reassurance that they had survived, that death had not parted them.

…It had been another scarily close day today.

Xadia was so full of wonder and beauty, but like a rose, it had its thorns, and there were several dangerous creatures out in the wilderness. Rayla had narrowly given them time to escape the flock of Roc-hawks, (terrifying huge birds with teeth like daggers and curled ram like horns) by diverting their attention away from the princes as they dashed desperately for the treeline.

Callum had watched in horror as a beak nearly snapped shut around the elf’s tail before she slipped away between two rocks and rendezvoused with them safely within the cover of the trees. It was always scary, watching her risk her life like that, and every single time she made it out alive he would breathe a sigh of relief and thank the stars above him.

So he was grateful for her presence when she flopped against him tiredly that night, her arms loose around his midriff sighing about how annoying it was that they couldn’t go one lousy day without a near death incident. Callum simply smiled, slipping his arm around her to pull her close, and continued his drawing as Zym dozed next to them.

He could feel her eyes on the page, watching him as he drew. It always felt a little weird to have an audience now, he never really knew what to say or do, and it was a little off-putting to say the least. Was she judging him? She never really said much about it, choosing to watch in silence until sleep took her under its spell. Tonight was different though. Her voice almost made the boy jump.

“It’s incredible.”

“W-What?”

“How you do that.” She mumbled. “I have the artistic ability of a four year old but you… you make it look so easy.”

He relaxed a little. “Do you like watching me draw?” He asked gently, and felt her nod.

“Yeah it’s… weirdly soothing.” She shifted to get more comfortable, her tail curling slowly over the top of her calves, its end twitching leisurely back and forth. “It’s become my favourite part of the day.”

He chuckled at that, his hand drifting upwards to her shoulder without him really noticing. “Honestly any part of the day where we’re not running for our lives is my favourite part of the day.”

“That’s reasonable.”

“…I… do really wish you’d stop putting yourself in harm’s way so much though.”

Rayla huffed through her nose then. “I’ve told you before, it’s fine. I can handle it.”

Callum frowned, closing his sketchbook and carefully setting it aside next to the fast asleep Zym.

“But what if one day, you can’t, huh?  What if one day, you try to protect us and- and you get in too deep? And what if I can’t help you?” She didn’t reply to that, but he could see her tail bristle up out of the corner of his eye. He took a breath to steady his thoughts. “Rayla… you are so strong, and brave, but there are limits. One day you’re going to rush off to protect us and you won’t… you…” He trailed off, the thought too painful.

Rayla shifted, sitting up and pulling away to look him in the eye. Their campfire flickered in her violet eyes, trying to read his own.

“Callum…” Her voice was soft- it was the tone she reserved for whenever she was worried about him. But whatever she was looking for in his eyes, she found it, and he watched the twinkle of understanding flash across hers. She opened her mouth as though to speak but his own words tumbled out suddenly, desperately, as though they had been building like a pressure in his heart for too long.

“I-I don’t know, I just… you… you and Zym, you’re all I have left right now, and if I lost you I-” His voice cracked and he swallowed hard. Rayla regarded him with sad sympathetic eyes. His voice came out small when he continued. “I don’t want that. You’re my friend, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Oh, Callum…” She pulled him in towards her, hugging him close. He could feel her hand against the back of his head, guiding him to rest against her shoulder, and her chin perched on his own as she held him tight. Callum squeezed her as though he would never let her go again, like she truly was all he had left in this world, and if he held her tight enough she wouldn’t slip through his fingers and disappear like everything else.

And then she was rubbing his back gently, just like his mother did for him when he was small. He felt a calm wash over him then. His racing heart slowed, steadying as she held him and his muscles relaxed, letting him just… be. To just be there, in the moment, in her arms. She had hugged him before but it always felt like such a momentous thing to him, for her, a Moonshadow elf, to let herself show such vulnerability and let him in, despite everything they had once thought about each other.

It was okay here, like this. It was safe. Warm. And given how tired she had been before it wouldn’t have been a shock to him if she fell asleep like this. He wouldn’t have minded, it was a comfort to know she was with him at night. Callum closed his eyes and sighed against her hair, his hand trailing slowly up and unconsciously, and he smoothed her snow white locks gently against the back of her head, combing his fingers carefully through them.

Something rather strange happened in that moment. Callum was about to learn two new things about Rayla. Firstly, it would appear that she was fond of having her hair played with. Secondly, he realised this first fact, because along with her leaning into his touch, he heard something against his ear, a strange, yet distinct and unmistakable noise.

A rumbly little purr.

He froze for a moment, in shock. But he couldn’t deny what he heard, because she continued to make the noise quietly, muffled against his scarf. Callum repeated the motion slowly, gently, and she shifted, the little purr growing louder.

He could feel it now, rumbling through his ribs, through his heart. Callum’s cheeks grew warm as he held her now. He could feel two heartbeats against his chest. Two. His and hers, beating together. Her heart ticked away so humbly, and in that moment a strange lump of emotion caught in his throat, as the realisation hit that she was alive. Despite all odds, she had survived another close encounter, and here she was quite peaceful and content holding onto him, arms loose and relaxed now, her fingers sleepily winding through his own hair.

He learnt something else in that moment as he held her so dearly close, something about himself this time.

He loved her.

And he was so glad she was alive.

Her purring stopped and slowly she pulled back to look him in the eye. “Callum… are you okay?” Perhaps she had heard minute changes in his breathing or heartrate, it wouldn’t have surprised him at this point. Her hand trailed to his chest resting gently over his heart, which he was now sure he could feel thumping against her fingers.

“Yeah… yeah I’m fine.” His voice came out softer than he expected, and he gave her a fond smile. “It’s just been a stressful day and I’m… really, really happy that you’re still here with me.”

Pink lightly dusted her cheeks now as she stared back at him, lips slightly parted. Something brave stirred in Callum in that moment and he reached up slowly and gently brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. She smiled, and tilted her head, eyes closed as she bumped her cheek into his palm.

Callum’s heart fluttered wildly but a warmth stirred in his chest and he brushed his thumb back and forth against her skin.

“You’re amazing, do you know that?” He mumbled tenderly.

“Mhm… yeah…” He felt her relaxing back down into his other arm her head resting on his shoulder. “I’m the most amazing elf in Xadia, and don’t you forget it.”

“I won’t.” He chuckled. “I promise.”

The purring started up again, quiet at first before it was a soothing rumble against his ear. Callum settled his head against hers, his cheek against her temple as he held her quite happily, savouring the moment.

There was a soft swish as her tail brushed against the ground, shifting the dust around them. And then he felt it. The sensation almost made him jump, as it brushed past and curled around his back loosely, the little silvery soft tufted end coming to a rest on his lap.

It almost seemed like a… protective gesture. A defensive one. He had noted on more than one occasion how she would curl it around herself when she was feeling particularly vulnerable. What did it mean, he wondered, for her to be bringing him into that space with her?

On most occasions, Rayla didn’t like her tail being touched. It was uncomfortable, she had said, especially when grabbed or pinned. Elf tails were often flickering, or twitching or swaying, even at rest, it was like a release of energy for them, and when that energy had nowhere to go it morphed into frustration. He had caught her once lightly scolding Zym for pouncing on her tail playfully, catching it lightly between his jaws. Though her tone was calm, patient, he had watched her tail thrashing irritably like an annoyed cat’s.

He had been curious of it a couple of times, but since then promised himself he wouldn’t overstep any boundaries or make her uncomfortable if he could help it. And yet…. It was right there. If he didn’t hold it down, maybe it would be okay? And if it wasn’t, then he’d apologise and never ever touch it again.

His fingers hovered anxiously, then he let them rest lightly against the part of her tail curled around his side.

The purring stopped instantly and she let out a little confused grumble, shifting.

“O-Oh- sorry was that…?”

“Hm…” She wriggled then relaxed again. “No… it’s fine. Just don’t hold it still.”

“Oh… Okay.” Timidly, he let his fingertips brush over it again. The fur was soft. Soft, silky, and white. Still, it twitched slightly under his touch, but this time she seemed more prepared and relaxed as he traced along its length to its tufty end. He realised that she had peaked an eye open then, staring intently at his hand, almost as curious as he was.

“Uh… I-Is this okay? It’s not weird is it?”

She gave a light shrug, then in a tone that was almost fond; “You’re weird.” Her tail curled a little more around him, almost like a reassuring squeeze. “But you’re fine, Callum.”

The boy relaxed, letting his arm drape around her again. “Oh, good. Because uh… you know I care about you, r-right? And I’d never ever want to do anything to make you feel weird or uncomfortable.”

“I know, Callum.” Her voice was soft now, quiet and sleepy. Her hand found his chest and she curled her fingers, letting them smooth down the fabric. She scrunched it slightly in her palm, slowly pressing it down, then relaxed her hand and repeated the little motion. Perhaps she liked how it felt, it was after all fancy royal Katolis silk, but even then he was sure it was nothing compared to the garments and fabrics of Xadia. Or, perhaps, it was another elf quirk. Either way it was endearing, and a smile caught on the corner of his lips.

Callum’s own fingers busied themselves with tracing little patterns against her upper arm, the tug of sleep extending to him now, and Rayla sighed, burying her face back into his shoulder.

As Callum begun to drift off, he hardly noticed this time when the purring started up again.

[docjamie]

OC sick!fic (Rosen)

This shit is long and full of snz. You were warned

Marcus, Rosen and Mallum were sitting at the table in the café, relaxing from the long day or work and university (well, Marcus only for that one). Mallum was hesitant to join them, but he slipped on some clothes and a beanie to cover his small horns and he was pretty passable for a human, just pretty hairy. Marcus was finishing up a humorous story of an event that happened on campus.

“So the two girls start screaming at each other about the stupid obsession they have over…oveh…Hih-hishOO! Ugh, bless me.” Marcus groaned and used the crumpled napkin in his hand to rub at his chapped nose. “I’m sorry you two. I swear I’m feeling better…EXT-SHOO!!” Marcus sniffled tiredly and took a sip of his hot latte.

“Seriously Mallum, he’s been gross for like 2 weeks now. Our place might as well be a fucking biohazard.” Rosen grumbled and stirred his coffee. It was true. About a week before finals, Marcus came home tired and sniffly. He swore it was just from studying and the cold weather but the next day, Marcus woke up with a small fever and he coughed and sneezed like his life depended on it. He’s had the bug all the way through finals, and he was finally getting better during the winter break. At first, Rosen thought the sickly man was adorable, but now? Now it was just…ew.

Marcus glared at his boyfriend sharply. “I’m sorry, was something that was out of my control annoying you? Sorry I’ve offended you, Cher.” Marcus snapped and wiped his nose again. Rosen rolled his eyes and took a gulp from his drink.

“Just…hurry up and, I dunno, heal or something. Humans are so weak sometimes.” Rosen muttered the last sentence under his breath but Marcus still heard him and gave him a sound kick under the table. Rosen yelped and they glared at each other. Mallum looked back and forth between them, getting uneasy with the rising tension.

“Yeah Ross, he’s kinda nasty,” Mallum ignored Marcus’s squawk and continued. “But lay off of him, alright? It ain’t his fault.” Mallum threw an arm over Marcus’s shoulders and Marcus leaned into him whilst sticking his tongue out at Rosen. Rosen scoffed and finished his coffee.

“Whatever. It’s great to be a supernatural being sometimes. Come on babe, we should get home. I don’t think either of us could handle a third relapse of your cold.” Rosen got up after putting a tip on the table and Marcus grabbed another napkin from the dispenser and held it up to his nose.

“Heis-shoo!! Hep-KSHH!! Ugh…bye Mallum.” Marcus sniffled and gave Mallum the classic kiss on each cheek before walking out with Rosen’s arm around his waist. Mallum waved with a small grin and waited until they weren’t in eyesight and his grin grew into one that resembled the Cheshire cat.

“I finally get to test this new spell. This will be so amusing.” Mallum said to himself and snapped his fingers, the sound giving a little echo.

*******

Meanwhile, Marcus and Rosen were walking to the car when Rosen stopped them.

“Hey. Sorry for…that.” He said awkwardly. Marcus grinned at the uncomfortable man before giving him a sweet kiss.

“I forgive you. Now can we please leave, I’m freezing my ass off!” Marcus exclaimed and hopped into the passenger seat. Rosen huffed fondly and went to follow him before he stopped and gave a full body shudder. Rosen drew his eyebrows together and didn’t notice how his eyes flashed a sickly green color before returning to the normal purple. Standing there for a couple of seconds, Rosen shrugged it off and got into the driver’s seat, rubbing his nose from the very faint tickle.

*******

Marcus and Rosen bustled through the door into their warm apartment, shaking snow off of their selves. Marcus went straight to their bedroom to change while Rosen hung back to remove his wet boots and coat. Rosen went to set his keys on the bar table before shivering and gave a few small coughs. Wait…shivering? Rosen doesn’t shiver. He cupped his hands in front of his mouth and blew a small flume of fire into his hands. Fuck, was it always this cold in here? Rosen walked to the thermostat and adjusted it for the first time ever. Rosen started to head for the bedroom when he stopped, a foreign feeling arising in his face. Wait…was he about to-

“hhHPPTSSHhh!!” Rosen sneezed freely into the air, the blast bending him at the waist. He sat back up, his eyes wide. Rosen felt liquid trickle down one nostril and it was the instinct to sniff it back that startled him more than the actual crap in his nose.

“Bless you! Wait…you can’t say that to a demon. À tes souhaits!” Marcus called from the back. Rosen barely registered his voice and cautiously returned to his trek to the bedroom. Maybe that was just a fluke, a one-time thing. Right?? Entering their bedroom, Rosen walked to the bed and sat down, his mind still going a mile a minute. Marcus was changed into a turtleneck, sweatpants and sweater boots, deciding a shower can wait. He saw Rosen walk in with a blank look on his face but paid it no attention. People zone out, it can happen. However, he was not expecting the sudden sound from Rosen.

“TXSHHuh! ...huhh! ...hhh-TTCHUh!” Rosen sprayed the air in front of him and automatically sniffled again. The room was silent for a few seconds, save for the slightly heavier breaths coming from the tense older man.

“Um… À tes souhaits?” Marcus repeated. Rosen nodded stiffly before grabbing his towel and headed to the bathroom. Marcus stood in the empty room, confused. He’s never heard his boyfriend sneeze before, but it’s normal. Right??

******

Rosen stood in the hot shower, but he still shivered every once in a while. As he lathered himself down, he calculated how he felt. There was an unfamiliar pressure in his head and tickle in his nose. He could feel the…mucus? Leak down his nostrils and throat. Speaking of his throat, it was starting to ache with the rough explosions he kept giving. He know his body was hot, that just came with the demon deal, but it was almost as if his core was cold, instead of fiery hot. Rosen rinsed and turned the water off before stepping out. Deciding to test a theory, he lifted a hand and tried to make fire appear. Instead of a usual flame, a cloud of smoke poofed from his hand.

Okay…okay, what the fuck was wrong with him? Rosen was silent as he robotically got dressed into warm clothes and left his hair slightly damp. He coughed into a fist before rubbing his nose again.

“hhh... hhDCHSHh!” Rosen sniffled and noticed it was becoming slightly more liquidly and harder to breathe through his nose. Deciding to try and sleep it off, he got settled into bed and found it alarmingly easy to fall asleep.

Marcus was on the couch watching trashy reality TV before he heard a sound. Muting the TV, he got up and walked to the bedroom and saw his boyfriend sprawled across his side of the bed, snoring loudly. Marcus quickly grew concerned and walked over to the demon in the bed. Rosen’s nose had a pink hue to it, much like the one on his own and his breaths sounded a little rattled. Was…was Rosen getting sick?? He laid a hand on Rosen’s forehead and found it cool and clammy, almost the opposite from his usual warm skin. Marcus noted that Rosen didn’t even stir when his phone beeped. He pulled it out and saw it was a text from Mallum.

‘Now he knows what it’s like. Ur welcome.’

Then it clicked.

Marcus’s eyes grew wide as he realized what Mallum had done. He could only hope that the demon would have mercy and Rosen would get over this quickly.

******

If Rosen thought he felt weird the night before, he felt absolutely wrecked as he peeled his eyes open this morning. Groaning, he rolled over to feel cold sheets instead of his boyfriend. Rosen sat up, wincing at the pressure shift in his head that caused him to cough into his fist and his nose to tickle again.

“hhhGTTSHh! ...HuhhTXSHhew!... *snnff*”

Marcus walked in from the bathroom, just finishing up with his shower. He had a bounce in his step as he put more comfy clothes on.

“I think I’m finally cleared up, Cher. Which is great because now we can get the holida…” Marcus trailed off as he took in the demon’s appearance. Rosen looked…terrible. He was breathing solely through chapped lips and he was scarily pale. Marcus watched him palm his chest as he coughed; the sound thick and painful. All of the quips he had planned to give Rosen about his first illness flew out the window and he rushed over to his miserable boyfriend. “Cher, are you okay?” he asked with concern. Rosen drew in a shaky breath and sniffled thickly.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t think so. I feel so shitty Mark and I don’t know what’s wrong.” Rosen said stuffily and Marcus noticed with heavy guilt at the fear he noticed in Rosen’s eyes. Deciding to come clean, he took a deep breath to explain Rosen’s situation.

“You might have...a cold? No, let me explain,” Marcus held up a hand as Rosen was beginning to protest. “Mallum decided to...curse you I guess with a human malady. I’m so sorry…” Marcus mumbled. Rosen was exhausted, but he still grew angry at the other demon’s tricks.

“Why the hell do I still associate with that fucking asshole? God, I’m such an idiot.” Rosen grumbled. Marcus wringed his hands together, still feeling as if this was his fault. Rosen placed a cool hand on Marcus’s hands to get his attention. “This isn’t your fault, babe. If anything, you should be saying ‘I told you so!’ over and over again.” Rosen said. Marcus jumped up, a little offended.

“How could I wish this on you? It’s not fun being sick Rosen and no matter how much of an ass you were being, you don’t deserve this. Okay?” Marcus pressed. Rosen paused before nodding and rubbed at his nose, the itch igniting again.

“hh- ...hhESHHhew! ...huhhTTXSHHhew!” His sneezes were taxing on his already weary body and he coughed at the irritation it gave him. All uncovered.

“Ugh. Rosen. Do you not know how to cover your mouth?” Marcus chastised. His scolding was met with a blank look and a thick, disgusting snort as Rosen made the crud go back into his head. Marcus rolled his eyes and left, returning shortly with a box of tissues. “Okay, first of all? Blow your nose. Your body is trying to expel all the excess snot and you’re not helping anybody by leaving it in.” He said, handing Rosen the tissues. Rosen looked confused and plucked a tissue from the box. He held it for a second before there was a hitch in his breath.

“hhhTSSHHhew! ...hhuhESSSHHew!” Rosen sneezed uncovered again, groaned and snorted again. Jesus Christ.

“À tes souhaits. Okay, let’s move on to the second thing. Cover your damn mouth, Rosen. With a tissue, your hand, a sleeve, anything! Just stop contaminating my breathing space. Now, blow your nose.” Marcus repeated. Rosen pouted (adorably, might he add) and brought the tissue to his nose and gave a small experimental blow, the thick and gurgling sound indicated that the process did jack shit. Marcus rolled his eyes again and used his own hands to guide the tissue in Rosen’s hand back to his nose.

“You’re going to do a lot of this darling, so I suggest you get used to it. You need to blow harder than that, come on.” Marcus prompted. Rosen breathed in and blew his nose hard, the tissue quickly filling up. It left him exerted and panting, but at least he was breathing a bit easier. “There, was that so hard?” Marcus teased and tossed the tissue to the bed. Rosen gave a small cough in protest, with turned to a fit of harsh, ruthless coughing. Marcus winced in sympathy and patted Rosen’s back.

“God, Cher, I feel so bad. I hate that you feel this sick. Would you like some tea?” he asked softly while rubbing his thumb across Rosen’s cold cheekbone. Rosen leaned into the touch and nodded gratefully. He jerked his head away, and yanked a tissue from the box.

“hhuhESSSHHew! EHSHHew! ...Hhh- TXSSHHhh! …oww…” Rosen blew his nose and wiped his watering eyes. The small whine of pain shattered Marcus’s heart into a million pieces. He kissed Rosen’s forehead and cheeks, then left to go make his poor sick boyfriend’s tea.

*******

Rosen was curled up on the couch in their living room, his front towards the back of the couch. There was a tissue box squeezed in between the demon and the couch and Rosen was plucking a white sheet from it every so often, whether to cough, sneeze, or attempt to blow his nose. Marcus grew even more concerned when the sickly symphony didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.

“hhhTSSHHhew! ...ESSHHew! EHSHHew! ...Hhh- TXSHhh!” Marcus heard a thick sniffle, a groan and an equally sludgy nose blow. As he stirred the soup in the pot, the tea kettle on the stove began to whistle very loudly.

“Oh by gohd Mbarcus, turnd id off!” Rosen yelled out stuffily and covered his sensitive ears with his hands and curled up even tighter. Marcus cursed his forgetfulness and rushed to take the kettle off the hot eye. Rosen already had advanced hearing and the high-pitched whistle was probably no different than jabbing an ice pick into his head. Marcus heard small groans and coughs come from the sick man and got an idea. He wet a hand towel in the sink and sat it in the microwave. After a minute, he took out the very warm towel and ventured out to where Rosen was laying down.

“Babe, turn around. I have something that will help.” Marcus said softly. Rosen groaned and slowly turned his stiff body to where he was laying on his back.

“Whad?” He said hoarsely. Rosen’s nose was a cherry red with a little moisture on the undersides of his nostrils. His eyes were red-rimmed and squinted shut, no doubt the natural light coming in from the windows giving him pain. Marcus kissed him on his cool cheek and draped the almost hot towel over Rosen’s eyes and forehead. Rosen let out an unashamed, loud groan of relief.

“Ooooh, fugk me that’s goooood….” Rosen drawled and even smiled (open mouthed from the clogged sinuses but still a smile, nonetheless). Marcus giggled at Rosen’s antics and carded his fingers through the messy red strands.

“If you can’t keep that warm by yourself, let me know and I’ll reheat it for you, okay?” Marcus said, grinning. Rosen reached out blindly and patted Marcus’s face.

“I love you sooo much baby, you’re so good to be.” Rosen slurred from the amazing feeling of heat returning to his body, and the ache receding from his head and nose. The heat also made his nose run something fierce as two thick dribbles leaked slowly from his nostrils. Rosen seemed too blissed out to care so Marcus huffed fondly before taking a tissue and wiping the mess from his boyfriend’s nose. Rosen flinched at the touch and took in a deep breath.

“hgh'GTSSHHH! ...hhhhp'TTSHt! Ugh, gohd. Mbarcus, leabe mbe alonde….” Rosen whined and turned to the back of the couch again. Marcus gave the demon’s back a deadpanned look and snatched a tissue from Rosen’s back to wipe his damp hand.

“You’re welcome, ingrate. I’m going to go finish your tea and soup.” Marcus rolled his eyes at the grunt and walked back into the kitchen to wash his hands and returned to his task. Marcus gave the soup a final stir, ladled it into a bowl and sprinkled some spices on the top. He put the bowl and mug of tea on a tray and carefully carried it back to the living room.

“Sit up Rosen, it’s time to eat,” Marcus prodded. Rosen groaned and didn’t move. “Yeah, yeah your life is the worst. Come on now, while it’s hot.” Rosen sat up and removed the lukewarm towel from his face before giving the opaque green soup a wary look.

“Whad is id?” Rosen asked and sniffled. Marcus shushed him and sat the tray on his blanket covered lap. He picked up a spoonful and brought it to his nose to give a sniff test, the thick gurgle sound and small cough indicating that no air went through. “I can’dt smbell id…” Rosen said miserably. Marcus laughed before kissing the frowning man’s forehead.

“It is vichyssoise soup, my papa and père used to make this for me when I had a sniffle. It has potatoes and chicken broth, it’s really good.” Marcus said and started gathering the tissues from the floor and coffee table. Rosen eyed the bowl before slowly spooning some soup into his mouth.

“I can’dt tasdte it, either. This fugking sucgs.” Rosen groaned before a look of panic flashed across his face. He pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger and stifled a hard sneeze, jerking forward with the force. Rosen released his sore nostrils with a small squelch sound and rubbed his eyes. “I’b dot really hundgry, babe…” he said sleepily. Marcus sighed and prompted his boyfriend gently to at least put something in his belly. Rosen slowly ate half the bowl and drank the whole mug of the mint tea to ease the ache in his throat. Marcus wasn’t even finished cleaning up the area before Rosen had laid back down and was snoring heavily and stuffily, his mouth wide open.

Marcus was really beginning to get worried. This was obviously not easy for Rosen to go through and it was hard seeing Rosen so lack of energy. He could only hope that Rosen would get better soon.

*******

(v-warning, non-graphic)

After Marcus packaged up the rest of the soup and cleaned the kitchen, he decided to do some light cleaning around the apartment. He made sure his sleeping boyfriend was well stocked with tissues, an empty trashcan, and a bottle of water before he headed to the back to begin cleaning for the holidays. Marcus was just finished with adding a load of their laundry from the washing machine to the dryer when he heard Rosen coughing. He must be awake.

Marcus trekked back into the living room and sure enough, Rosen was sitting up, blankets pooled around his waist. His long hair was half squished down from laying on it for so long. The man in question had one hand curled into a fist in front of his mouth, barking out heavy coughs. Marcus sighed and walked over, grabbing the water bottle and handed it to the panting demon. Rosen nodded and took a sip after he opened the bottle but he groaned and rested an arm on his midsection.

“Ugh…Mbark…” He whispered, his raw throat aching. Marcus rubbed his back and ‘hmmed’ waiting on an answer. “I really…ugh really don’t feel good.”

Marcus was confused until he heard an alarming gurgle coming from Rosen’s stomach. He looked back up to Rosen’s face and saw an all too familiar look of nausea cross the handsome face. Nodding, he stood up and helped Rosen up gently.

“Okay. We’re going to the bathroom, okay?” Marcus asked, calmly. Rosen looked two seconds from panicking and losing his guts, so he sped up their slow shuffle to the bathroom. Marcus set Rosen down in front of the toilet and reached into the medicine cabinet to grab one of Rosen’s ponytail holders.  He knelt down behind his boyfriend and pulled his long hair back into a low ponytail.

Rosen’s face was shiny with sweat and he was giving sickly moans every once in a while. “Whad…whad’s happeding to mbe?” he asked quietly. Marcus handed Rosen a hand towel that was wet with cool water from the bathroom sink. He knelt back down and dabbed at Rosen’s forehead.

“Just relax and let it happen, Cher. You’ll feel a little better afterwards and please don’t miss.” Marcus answered him. Rosen said ‘huh?’ before his stomach gurgled again.

“Oooh maan….” Rosen drawled, coughing warningly. Marcus pushed his head over the toilet and after a few hard coughs and spits; Rosen sat back, and wiped his mouth with the towel. “Whad the fugck, Mbarcus.” Rosen gritted out while his boyfriend flushed the toilet. He sniffled and brought the towel back up to his mouth.  “…hhh…TSSCHHT!!.... hhhhp'TTSSSHHt!!” he used the same towel to blow his nose loudly.

Marcus watched with disgust as Rosen rubbed his red nose with the disgusting towel. “Rosen, that’s a good towel…” he trailed off when Rosen dropped the towel on his lap before struggling to a stand.

“I’b godda ged sobe whiskey.” Rosen grunted and sniffled thickly. Marcus rolled his eyes and pinched the towel between two fingers and tossed it into the washing machine. He needed to start a new load anyway.

Walking back into the living and dining room area, he saw Rosen hunched over at the table, resting his head on one hand and the other holding a glass of amber liquid. “You know, that might burn your sore throat, Cher.” Rosen nodded and took a sip, and sighed happily.

“It feels abazig.” Rosen said stuffily and wiped his raw nose with his shirt sleeve. His breath hitched twice before he jerked his head down. “hhhTSSHHhuh! ...ESSHHuhh! EHSHHew! ...Hhh- TXSHhhew! Fugking hell, fugk thad half goat prigk!” Rosen growled hoarsely. Marcus huffed a laugh and brought the box of tissues over to the grouchy man.

“Well Rosen, you out of all people should respect Karma. You did meet her, after all.” Marcus giggled. Rosen yanked a tissue and wiped the snot from his nostrils.

“Yeah, ad she’s a fugking bitch.” Rosen said and gulped the rest of his whiskey before shivering violently. “I’mb fugking freezig.” Rosen shuddered, hunching into his sweatshirt.

“You know, now that you think about it, that’s actually really cool. You have like, the opposite of a fever.” Marcus mused, palming the chilly forehead. Rosen slapped his hand away.

“Glad to be such an abusebent, dear.” Rosen snapped. Marcus just smirked and tucked some loose strands of hair away from his face. Rosen was a grumpy man without the head full of snot, so the attitude was no surprise.

“You’re so adorable, you know that?” Marcus cooed and patted Rosen’s head. Despite his red nose and red rimmed eyes, Rosen’s glare sharpened and he snarled lowly, his eyes blinking yellow for a split second. “Okaay, Mr. Grumpy let’s get you settled back on the couch.” He said with a stifled laugh. Rosen ‘hmped’ and coughed as Marcus guided him back to his spot on the couch.

When Rosen was settled with his head on Marcus’s lap, Marcus turned the TV to some random fashion show and scratched his fingers through Rosen’s hair. Rosen sighed and dozed lightly, his sniffles cutting through the sound of potential designers panicking on the screen.

“Let me know if you feel sick again, okay babe?” Marcus asked quietly. Rosen nodded and sucked in a huge breath.

“hgh'GTSSSHH! Hhh…hhuuhh…” Rosen panted and sniffled thickly. Marcus watched with amusement as Rosen wiggled his nose and pawed at it with a sleeve covered hand. “Heehh….Bm-Mbarcus…” he whined desperately, breath hitching erratically. Marcus tsked sympathetically and grabbed his cellphone and went to the flashlight app.

“Look at me, Rosen?” He asked. Rosen turned teary eyes to him and Marcus turned on the flashlight and shined it into Rosen’s eyes. Rosen’s pupils constricted until it was almost completely purple and he finally succumbed to the tickle.

“hhhTSSHHhew! ...hhuhESSSHHew-ESSHHEeww!” Rosen sneezed too quickly for him to cover it up and as a result, Marcus’s phone got sprayed. Marcus squawked and snatched a tissue from the box that was laying on the coffee table and scrubbed at his phone.

“Ugh, dégoûtant! Rosen!” Marcus exclaimed. Rosen looked up at him from his lap while gurgling into a tissue.

“You could’ve told mbe whad you were doig, you kdow.” He muttered. Marcus narrowed his eyes and shoved at Rosen who tumbled to the floor with a crash.

“Ow, for fugk’s sagke!” Rosen cried out. Marcus grinned smugly and tuned back into his show.

“You’ll be fine.”

(END)

[brittysaucefanfic]

Brand New Blue

Part 5

(First)(Previous)(Next) (AO3)

Lance had already shut off the transmission as the little cloaked robot disappeared through the doors. He hadn’t realized it was there at first, but then he heard the faint sound of someone smothering a laugh, and seeing as Lance was alone, he figured someone was spying. So as discreetly as he could, which wasn’t much anyways, he took a casual look around and spotted the discoloration of air that could only mean a cloaking device. It was fairly amusing these people thought they could get the drop on him. 

Not with his senses. 

Perhaps someday he’ll have that normality again, the ability to actually be surprised. All he needs is a tech lover that can get this wretched tracker off of him. Luckily he had the jamming cloth or else he would be putting this entire new group of humans in danger. Lance pushed the thought out of his head, knowing it would eventually lead to bad memories, and he spread out on the couch after shutting off communications with Shek. The man had been right after all. 

Lance really never cared for titles. 

To be fair though, almost a year trapped with the title Hunter made him see titles as useless formalities. The humans and humanoids burst into to the lounge, and Lance carefully examined his nails with an air of nonchalance. They were a little chipped. He hadn’t had a spa day in a long while, and even if he did adopt alien skincare products into his daily routine, it wasn’t the same as a true spa day. 

“How did you know?” Lance smirked, and turned to the group. He was finally actually getting a chance to look at them properly without distractions. Allura was by far the most beautiful alien he had encountered so far, but that could be due to her human like appearance. Her hair was like snow falling down her back, tinted the slightest of blue, some of it tied out of her face. Her skin was tan, much like Lance’s own skin, and upon her cheeks were two pink triangular marks. 

She wore a golden circlet around her head, and Lance could only assume that had to do with her title as Princess. Her eyes were bluer than the seas back on Earth as well, vibrant and fueled with a burning fire of defiance. She looked ready to attack, and Lance had no doubt she could kick his butt anyday. Next to her was a very handsome human, his suit white with black accents. 

He was well built, older but not old, with a pink scar neatly across his face underneath charcoal eyes. His hair was an undercut on the bottom half of his head, short trimmed above it, and one single hair floof at his forehead. All of his hair but the hair floof was a rich brown, while the floof was more strikingly white than the beautiful alien. He was vaguely familiar, and when he crossed his arms, Lance noticed the Galra prosthetic. 

Seems he spent some time with the druids. 

Lance moved on, looking over the next human. His suit was white with red accents, and his hair was in a messy mullet, also deep brown- almost black, framing a very sharp face and a pair of dark violet eyes filled with a cold type of regard. He wasn’t quite as built as the scarred man beside him, and not as old either. He actually looks more Lance’s age than anything. 

Lance moved to the one throwing a question at him and was staring at a small child, human, with green accents in her suit. Her glasses were large, too large for her head, and steadily falling downward. They shielded a pair of honey colored eyes creased in the corners, which matched her strawberry blonde hair, cut into the roughest version of a bob that he nearly flinched from the atrocity. Despite how masculine she looked, Lance knew that the child was female. She was just too soft to be male, despite the hard curl of her lips. 

The next human was so opposite in looks and shape to the small girl, it was disorienting. He was tall, and round, with a babyish face, and wearing a suit with yellow accents. He looked half like he was terrified, and half like he was nauseous. His black hair was flattened slightly by an orange headband, and his brown eyes that bordered on red were wide and panicky. The small girl shifted and suddenly that robot came from behind her, uncloaked now. It was a triangular pyramid, with glowing blue green accents. 

He recognized the type of bot. It was a reprogrammed Galra surveillance droid. Those things are the worst nuisances on missions. 

“I asked you a question! How did you know Rover was there?” Lance sighed and sat up. He crossed one leg and watched as half of the humans and Allura took a seat across from him on the opposite couch. The only ones left standing was mullet and the child. And while the child looked simply put out and burning with curiosity, mullet looked like he was more ready to attack than the princess, who sat tensely even now. 

“Well at first I didn’t. I had absolutely no clue you were spying on me, although I guess I should have sort of expected it. But then I heard a noise, and I noticed the discoloration of air, and it clicked that someone cloaked a spy device.” Lance leaned closer to get a better look at the robot-Rover. 

“Noise?” The child asked, demanded. Lance nodded slowly, realization slowly coming to mind.

“I’m assuming you didn’t deactivate the two way sound? All of these types of droids are used for both surveillance and as intercoms. The video feed is one way, but the sound feed is two way unless manually changed. I can’t tell you how many times missions were compromised because of these things. They’re the bane of my existence, repeat, the bane of my existence.” Lance said, casually enough so none of these people felt threatened. He leaned forward to point out the front mike below the lense and the child in green just whispered a small ‘oh’.

“Speaking of,” lance continued. “Who did this? This is Galra tech right? Did you buy it unprogrammed?” The child huffed and scowled as if he insulted her. 

“Of course not, I stole it and reprogrammed it when we were on a mission.” She said, sounding so proud of herself. Then Lance blinked at her slowly. 

“You mean you know your way around Galra tech? This isn’t an exaggeration?” This time he looked around and saw all of them shaking their heads. 

“Are you saying this small child is a Galra hacker?” Perhaps Lance shouldn’t have said that. The ‘small child’ in question let out an indignant sound as if she was a wounded animal. 

“Are you doubting me!?” For some reason this made Lance laugh and he shook his head. He even held up his hands in surrender. 

“No, that’s not what I meant!” Before he could say more, almost simultaneously, Lance felt his ‘upgraded’ eye itch just as his wrist beeped. It was a reminder that he needed to change out his mask. Lance would get Nama to do it later, she was almost scarily gentle with it. As much as this cloth was needed, Lance despised it. It itches, and it felt weird. Lance smiled up at the group of people in front him innocently.

“So what are your names? I can’t keeping calling you by your appearances. Mullet, Child, Scar, and Big guy can only get me so far.” Allura flushed at this, her marks seemingly glowing on her cheeks. 

“Right forgive me for my rudeness. From left to right, is Keith, Pidge, me of course, Shiro and Hunk.” So Keith was mullet, Pidge was the child, then Allura, and then the man with the prosthetic was Shiro and the big guy was Hunk. Wait a minute. Shiro? 

“Shiro? You wouldn’t mean, as in Takashi Shirogane right?” All five of them flinched in shock, specifically the one called Shiro. Lance looked closer at him and recalled the vague image of his one time hero, Pilot Shirogane. He slowly nodded to himself. 

“Yes, I see now. You are him aren’t you?” Shiro nodded, weary of Lance all of a sudden. Lance smiled brightly. 

“Man, you were once my hero! I wanted to be a pilot just like you! Man that seems like a lifetime ago.” Lance leaned back with a sigh, and then rolled his neck with a groan. He was starting to become tense from the thinly veiled hostility emanating off the group surrounding him. 

He should probably feel a little threatened at this point. The five of them completely surrounded him in his spot in, what it seems like, an almost unconscious movement. They were blocking off his escape, but Lance kept his posture open and relaxed, as if these weren’t people but cornered animals. 

If there was anything Lance knew he was good at, it was three things. The first was swimming; if he hadn’t have felt such a calling to the stars in his youth-which ultimately caused him to be captured in the first place- then Lance could have gone pro in swimming. And if it wasn’t swimming, he was unnaturally good with animals, even alien ones he had come to figure out. There has been many a times where things went bad for him because of his fascination with animals. 

The last, and the only one that actually helps him survive in this war against the Empire, is his aim. His go to guns were pistols, only because they were easy to carry, easy to conceal if he feels like it, and they were the best when it comes to dual wielding. Not many people can be good aims with both hands, but Lance was ambidextrous. 

So he treated these humans who had been so obviously hurt deeply, perhaps by the Galra, as if they were injured dogs cowering in the corner. He kept relaxed and unthreatening, open with his words and emotions and actions. He also made sure to make no sudden movements in case Keith got it into his head to attack. 

“Look Allura, there is no need to feel so threatened by me.” Allura snapped back into her seat but Lance continued gently. “My team and I are just here hoping to make an ally. You don’t want us here? I’ll take them and my ship and leave. This doesn’t have to be harder than it should be.” 

Allura looks almost as if she were chastised and Lance felt bad, but he softened his words as much as possible. A silence covered the group like a blanket, before Lance sighed and slowly eased up off the couch, still wary enough not to give any reason for an attack. Humans, Lance could attest to, were animals when needed. 

Wild, vicious, and hard to predict. 

Lance began his trek back to the Mermaid, and was crossing the hangar to his ship. Half of his crew was just chilling outside the ship. They knew better than to leave the ship’s side without his permission, except Nama but Lance would never dare try to tell her what to do. And then just as he came close to the first lion, the sleek frame of the Red Lion, no barrier unlike the Blue Lion he had seen earlier, the inhabitants of the castleship caught up to him. Technically the hangars were all separate, connected with one wide hallway that branched off to the sides to connect to the hangars. 

Of course that doesn’t mean they aren’t all visible as you pass them, the walls surrounding the entire level blocking them from being totally visible from hangar to hangar. Then Lance was stopped by a shout that could only belong to the princess and he smiled almost smugly as he turned to see them all rushing to catch up to him. 

**********

(First)(Previous)(Next) (AO3)

[ocbungou]

Thank you, Momo, for submitting your application! Two mods have gone over it and accepted it for approval into the ring. Please have your blog ready by December 29th.

COUNTRY. APH Norway

NAME. Lukas Bjørn Bondevik

PRONOUNS. He / Him

AGE. 22

ALIGNMENT. The Rats

APPEARANCE.

Genetics were kind to Lukas, blessed with an incredibly high metabolism and naturally high cheekbones, he isn’t what one would call ‘plain.’ His facial features are sharp and distinguished, his nose curving into a neat point in a similar fashion to his keen chin. Much like his face, Lukas’ body appears to be constructed out of sharp angles; with a frame that one would relate to that of a waif. Almost scarily thin, lanky, and with legs that practically make up half of his height, his physique is far more feminine than masculine. The femininity of his body is a soft spot with Lukas and as such he would prefer to cover his body in a plethora of utterly unfashionable shirts, the less skin showing, the better. Due to a complex and thorough skincare regime, his complexion is completely blemish free and soft to the touch - or at least, perhaps completely blemish-free isn’t absolutely correct. Along the bridge of his nose are a series of faint freckles, the gentle spots apparent on Lukas’ pale skin. With thanks to Lukas’ constant need to remain blank-faced, he has neither hints of laugh lines or frowning wrinkles, for he doesn’t often find himself doing either. Matching his nonchalant expression are his eyes, their colour a dull cluster of purple and blue hues. If eyes are the windows to a person’s soul, Lukas’ soul is either dead or doing a really good fucking job at pretending to be dead. His hair is a tender spirit of which he has yet to tame, his swooping fringe often flopping into his eyes on one side, the other side only scarcely restrained by his metallic cross clip. The weak golden blonde of his hair melts seamlessly into the light colours of his skin, his arched eyebrows only slightly darker than the fringe that tends to cover them.

PERSONALITY.

To most people he comes across Lukas can come across as apathetic and emotionless, but that is not the case. He is incredibly empathetic, with feelings that are so strong that they frighten him. Constantly anxious and shy in the company of others, his feelings are something that he prefers to keep hidden. He doesn’t want anybody to know what he’s thinking, or even recognize that he, a human being, is not an emotionless robot. He would prefer to fade into the background of any social gathering, not leaving a single imprint on the minds of anyone he comes across. There are a few times when Lukas is able to overcome his shyness and speak up. Namely in regards to what he doesn’t know - his mind is a curious one and he is willing to turn a blind eye to his fears if it means finding the answer to a long-held question. Even so Lukas tends to speak in short, clipped tones, his words appearing far snarkier than intentional. But once you get to know him, and when Lukas begins to get comfortable, he can be a bit of a pain. Not only is he is the type to use bluntness and insults as his way of showing his endearment, but he also is a “relatively” weird person. His interests and habits stray from the norm, various activities ( such as his unfortunate hobby of eating plain butter at odd hours of the night ) that would get him more than a few odd stares and concerned questions.

Strengths: Creative ; Fantasy is his forte, spilling through in his numerous scribbles.

Curious ; Though his eyes may be dead, his heart is still very much alive - Lukas is forever questioning his surroundings, his mind buzzing with new-found ideas and theories. Honest ; If there’s one person you can rely on to be truthful, it’s Lukas. He’s not above telling you that you look atrocious in that shirt. Weaknesses: Anxious ; If you are a stranger and you are talking to him, there is a 100% chance that Lukas is internally screaming. Private ; Whilst keeping some aspects of your life private is good, Lukas tends to take it to the extreme. Bottling it all up is his forte. Snarky ; Quick one-liners and insults are his native tongue, flowing from his mouth easier than Norwegian. Unfortunately it’s also not a great way to make friends.

ABILITY.

Neil Gaiman | The Graveyard Book

Freedom of the Graveyard

Lukas gains the ability to speak to the dead, walk through walls, and turn invisible to most humans when within a 1KM radius of any graveyard. There is no physical key to turning on these powers, rather he simply needs to concentrate in order to do anything.

The further and further away Lukas gets to a graveyard, the weaker his powers become. He can no longer turn invisible, instead flickering in and out of existence as if he were a glitch - and once, only once, he got stuck going through a wall half-way through and had to have the entire wall removed just to get out. The further away he gets, the more he needs to concentrate to perform his abilities to even just 50% of their normal level.

BACKGROUND.

Born to a young Norwegian couple, Kenneth and Takisha Bondevik, Lukas spent the first three of his years playing outside. Due to the low population density in Norway, it was possible for Lukas to spend his days outside without running into a single stranger – just the way he liked it. His days were spent frolicking in the forest with his ‘spirit’ (read: imaginary) friends, searching for fairy rings and reading tales of folklore to frogs. He’d always been a day-dreamy type with a fascination for all things fantasy. [ The ‘forest’ was really just their backyard. Isn’t it funny how saplings look like towering trees and puddles like wide lakes to a child? Were he to return to their old house, he’d be blown away by just how small his world had once been ]

Although his parents quickly divorced, Lukas never quite minded - it was difficult for the one year old to understand why his father had so suddenly disappeared, but the weekly visits soon became the norm and he didn’t find himself minding quite so much anymore. The house was much quieter with only two of them, anyway.

It wasn’t until one night, one night that Lukas couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep - no matter how hard he tried. He instead made the sensible decision to go outside in the middle of the night and play in the ‘forest’ until he was tired enough to fall asleep. For some unknown reason, the door had already swung open, beckoning Lukas outside even more.He played for hours, waddling further and further into the trees, until eventually he had left his backyard entirely.

Scared and confused, a teary-eyed Lukas eventually stumbled across an older woman humming by herself upon a large tombstone. He instinctively called out to the woman, who was more than surprised to see a toddler alone by a graveyard in the middle of the night. Lukas slept in the woman’s arms that night, unaware that his own mother had been brutally murdered in her sleep.

Days went by with Lukas roaming the graveyard, eating the fruit from the nearby trees, with the older woman ( Mrs. Petterson ) and her husband ( Mr. Petterson ) keeping a watchful eye. Once the man (?) Raskogr returned that it became apparent that Lukas was no longer going to be able to be home. Raskogr informed the couple and the Council of the Dead that Lukas’ mother had been murdered and his father was uncontactable. The Council of the Dead had no other option than to grant Lukas with the Freedom of the Graveyard until his father could be found again.

The years Lukas spent in the graveyard were his favourite. Raskogr brought him fresh food, Mr. and Mrs. Petterson read him stories at night and the children of the graveyard made for excellent friends. There was nothing more fun than playing tag in which all the participants can run through solid walls. Lukas learnt to read the letters on the tombstones, practiced swimming the in the small lake, and counted the fruits as the fell from the trees. Raskogr came at night - most nights, not every night - to give Lukas lessons, real and official lessons.

Lukas was about fifteen when Raskogr found his father again - Kenneth had moved to Iceland and was living with his new wife and son. Through the years of living in the graveyard, Lukas had grown attached to the land and its inhabitants but even he knew that he couldn’t live in the small patch of grass forever. His farewells were heartfelt and many tears were shed, but he found comfort in knowing that he could come back home at any time and his family would always be there.

Icelandic living was a sudden shock to Lukas - much like Lukas’ appearance was a shock to Kenneth. Lukas had been presumed dead for thirteen years and for him to spontaneously appear on Kenneth’s doorstep was enough to nearly give the man a heart attack. It wasn’t easy, integrating Lukas into the family. Lukas didn’t have the most normal behaviour in the world ; ghosts didn’t make for normalcy. But his son being alive - alive - made up for the strange quirks and abilities Lukas had picked up in his years living in a graveyard in Kenneth’s eyes.

The transition to public high school was a shaky one that Lukas only really managed to survive with the help of his younger half-brother, Eirikur, but Lukas managed to come out the other end unscathed. University was easier, less human interaction lead to less awkwardness.

It wasn’t until he’d finished his degree that he thought to branch out, just as he had once before. With anxious farewells to his second family, Lukas set off to Port City to explore yet again.

SAMPLE WRITING.

The fluttering snow sifted quietly through the winter air and came to rest on a frosted tombstone, as Lukas blankly stared at the outside world from the confines of his house. He’d been lucky enough to secure a house near a graveyard, his powers bursting from the seams every moment he spent at home. It was enough that he finally felt safe. Living alone had always been his ideal, but without his powers at full his nights were filled with terrors; shivering fears that perhaps he may end up the same as his mother - slashed with a blunt blade as he slept, defenceless.

Gripping his shoulders, Lukas let out a shuddering breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in. It took all of him to come to the grips with the fact that everything was okay now, everything was alright, and he was strong - he was so strong. Perhaps to prove to himself that his abilities were still strong or perhaps to comfort himself with the presence of the graveyard, Lukas slipped through the exterior walls and came to a halt at the graveyard gates. Something about the confines of a graveyard calmed him, washing him with memories of his first family; of his childhood. He may live within a normal house, but nothing would feel more like home to him than a fenced outline of a graveyard.

He hadn’t yet properly introduced himself to the inhabitants, but now was as good a time as any. Gliding through the gate, Lukas knocked on the nearest tombstone, smiling with a faux sense of confidence.