#why not just start as like a squirrel and then just kill and possess bigger and bigger animals slowly till you get human.

[trekkerac]

I see you are taking questions so two things. First, I love the frankenghost au! It’s 25% sad and 75% comedy and i love it. Two, since bill and stan can communicate with one another, is Bill actually able to do anything to stanley since he’s still sorta-trapped in the mindscape or can he only annoy the shit outta stanley ‘cause stanley’s a ghost?

Thanks! Yeah he can't actually do anything to Stanley, other than annoy or antagonise him. The only reason he hangs around him is to watch Ford. I would proabably guess he hasn't possessed his corpse is because he would still need a deal with his ghost since he's newly dead and still lingering around. So yeah. On about equal grounds here.

[apocalypseornaw]

Always be Yours-9

Word Count: 4,901

Story Summary: Follows Dean and the reader through season 9 into season 10

Chapter Summary: With no other choice Crowley is enlisted to free Sam of the angel's grasp

Warnings: cursing, fights, blood,death the usual

When Cas made it to the bunker you weren’t sure if Dean had even told him everything that had happened. When he walked into the library where you and Dean were currently gathering what weapons you’d need it confirmed he in fact had no idea what all had gone down when he asked “What happened?”

You stopped mid movement and cut your eyes at Dean who took a deep breath before saying “We need to catch you up on a lot Cas” you saw the look of confusion on Cas’ face so you motioned to the chairs “Let’s sit down” Cas took a seat so you sat next to him and Dean sat across the table. Dean’s eyes were cast downward and you could only imagine what he was saying to himself in that movement, the horror that was his own mind working against him half the time. You could only guess that little voice inside of his head telling him he wasn’t good enough. You hated that little voice and would give anything to make Dean never listen to it again.

“I made a mistake Cas” he started but you quickly cut in “We made the mistake Dean..We” Cas looked between the two of you so you elaborated “After the trials, when Sam collapsed Dean called me. By the time I got to their sides Sam was dying and Dean had already put a call out to any angel for help. I came in to Dean being attacked and the angel who introduced himself as Ezekiel intervening. He was hurt in the fall so he couldn’t heal Sam..Cas honey we had a lot of pissed off angels coming down on our asses looking for you so we had to make a quick decision. Let Sam die or let the angel in” 

“Whoever the angel was he..he hijacked Sam then he killed Kevin and took the angel tablet” you added not meeting Dean’s eyes. “Sammy was dying and he said it was the only way. I believed him and now Sam’s gone..Kevin’s” his voice trailed off at the end so you looked up towards Cas as he said “Dean I’m sorry” “Sorry doesn’t pay the bills, does it?” Dean replied and you let out a harsh breath as he pushed away from the table and stood turning his back to you and Cas before adding “It sure as hell ain’t gonna bring Kevin back..We got to find the son of a bitch”

Cas looked at you to ask “If the angel possessing Sam isn’t Ezekiel than who is it?” “A dead man walking” Dean replied, turning back around. “You’re gonna destroy him? You kill an angel it’s vessel dies too” Cas asked. Your entire body felt like it’d been dipped into ice. There had to be a different way. You couldn't kill the angel not while he was inside of Sam and you wouldn’t let anyone else. “There’s got to be a different way” you met Dean’s eyes as you said it. You refused to give up on him or Sam. It wasn’t in you.

He walked back over to the table and leaned down before saying “Sweetheart if we don’t end it and that halo burns him out..god damn I was so stupid” You looked to Cas silently begging him for help. He stood up as he said “You were stupid for the right reasons” “Yeah like that matters” Dean argued so you stood up next to Cas and said “It does” “Sometimes that’s all that matters” Cas added.

You nodded then said “Cas, Sam is strong if he knew somehow that an angel was possessing him he could fight couldn’t he?” “He could cast the angel out” he agreed. 

Dean shook his head at both of you “Maybe but he’s in the dark. How the hell would we clue him in?” You could see a thought occur to Cas before he asked Dean “Do you remember Alfie?”

You looked towards Dean as he said “The kid angel, yeah why?” “Before he died he told me the demons were able to dig into his mind, access his coding. We might be able to do that here. Might be able to bypass the angel and talk directly to Sam” “You think that would work?” you asked hopeful and Cas shrugged “I don’t know but I think we owe it to Sam to try, don't you?” 

At an actual plan being formed Dean nodded slowly “Well where do we start?” “Do you still have Crowley locked up here?” Cas questioned so you nodded “He’s in the armory locked up tight” “Then we should start there”

------

You watched Dean draw a syringe of blood out his own arm. Once he was through you held a rag out to wipe the blood away. “Thanks” you nodded checking to ensure it’d stopped bleeding. He laid his hand over yours when you started to pull away “I mean for a lot more than that”

You walked into the armory behind Cas after Dean turned the light on. Crowley blinked a time or two then smiled “Hello boys” when he spotted you he added “And hello sweets” Cas stepped back over to block you from his vision and you half smiled at the protectiveness. Dean pulled the syringe out his pocket “Ok, here’s the deal. You’re gonna tell us how to hack an angel and I’m gonna give you some of the good stuff. Human blood, fresh from the tap.Word is you’re jonesing for it” Crowley shook his head “Please. I’ll pass”

“What do you want then?” Cas asked. Crowley looked between the three of you then said “Well for starters a massage between the sitting and the shackles a body gets a little stiff” “Yeah I ain’t rubbing you and Y/N damn sure isn’t” Dean quickly shut him down but he replied “Didn’t want you or sweets. Get Kevin, his tiny fists can really work wonders” “Kevin’s dead” you bit out and actually saw Crowley’s face fall just slightly “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that”

Cas pushed you towards Dean before walking over to the table “Don’t pretend you care, you tried to kill him” Crowley was undeterred “I told him this was gonna happen. I was the only person who tried to warn him. I told him to run” “From what?” you asked  and Crowley cut his eyes at you “From your boyfriend sweets” You saw that haunted look pass through Dean’s eyes again as Crowley looked his way “How many times am I gonna have to say this? People in your general vicinity don’t have much in the way of a life-span” Cas threw a look your way and you knew he was thinking along the same lines as you were but there was no time for that now considering Crowley continued “Now I can’t teach you how to crack open an angel. It’s more art than science. But I can do it for you. All I ask in return is a little field trip, dying for some fresh air” then held up his hands and added “Chains on naturally”

“No,” Dean said, then turned to walk out grabbing your hand but stopped when Crowley said “No? Of course not because if I’m plan a I’m sure you have a totally viable much better plan b. That’s why your angel and your girl is still paying any attention to me” 

Dean stopped and motioned Cas over. You stepped to the side to let Cas get close enough to you both. “You can’t be considering this” he said but you knew Dean was. Hell you were if it got Sam back. “With the chains on he can’t do anything” Dean tried but Cas did have a point when he argued “It’s Crowley. He can always do something” “Looks like we need a tie breaker. Sweets you want to vote or you want to go grab moose” You shot a glare at him and he smiled “Unless of course you can’t. That explains why you’re all here and why you and squirrel are up for letting me out. The poor giant baby’s in trouble again isn’t he” You wanted nothing more than to knock that damn smirk off his face but you felt Cas grab your arm as if he knew so you remained in place while Dean walked towards Crowley “Are you done?”

“Depends, do we have a deal?” Crowley asked and Dean looked back to you and Cas. You sighed and nodded so he told Crowley yeah. “Excellent, when do we leave?” “Want to take the jeep?” you asked and he shook his head “I don’t want him in your jeep” Cas spoke up and said “I have a vehicle. It stopped a few miles from here inexplicably” Dean nodded “Ok” then looked at Crowley “We’ll be back to grab you”

------

A few questions about how the car was acting before it died confirmed it probably just ran out of gas so you grabbed the spare can from the garage while Dean grabbed Crowley and the bag of weapons.

You walked next to Cas because him and Dean had Crowley between them. You had silver bullets in your gun and an angel blade in your jacket along with all the supplies Dean had despite the fact that the four of you walking down the road was probably a little strange looking to any passerby you made it to the tan lincoln without issue.

Crowley looked at the car then back at Cas “Really? Are you a pimp?” you rolled your eyes at him “There’s nothing wrong with your car Cas” Cas smiled at you “Thank you Y/N. I like it” Dean walked to the open driver’s window and tried the ignition “Yeah it’s out of gas” he moved to put the gas in the car and you noticed Cas once again put himself between you and Crowley. “Riddle me this boy wonder why do you need the wheels?” Crowley asked looking around him at you as he spoke.

Cas took a half step towards him “When you betray us, I’ll be the one to carve your heart out” you felt your eyes widen at that. “Cas, what a flirt” Crowley smiled and you shook your head. Jesus angels and demons were so far from what you’d originally thought hunting was. Dean stood up after the car had gas in it “Alright, let’s go”

“Shotgun” Crowley called out but Dean pointed his finger at him “No, you’re in the back” You shrugged but Dean added “Cas, ride back there with him. I don’t want him that close to Y/N”

You watched the two of them climb in the backseat then cut your eyes at Dean before climbing in. “Watch the leg” Cas growled to which Crowley grumbled “You’re on my side!” “CHILDREN! COOL IT!” you hollered and they both stopped. Crowley grinned “Or what sweets?” you narrowed your eyes at him “I care about Cas but you? I’ll gladly stab you in the face” his grin only got bigger at that “I see just why squirrel likes you”

Dean glared at Crowley in the mirror then cranked the car up. When the music started you had the mental image of Cas listening to the station and it was amusing. You saw Dean cut his eyes at you and if it wasn’t for the angel and demon in the backseat you probably would’ve reached for his hand but instead you simply assured him “I’m good”

------

Crowley gave Dean the directions to Waldroff Financial. When he parked and all of you climbed out the car Cas quickly put himself between you and Crowley again. You followed the three of them across the parking lot and into the building. “Your source is here?” Dean asked Crowley who replied “And she can track anything, even our little lost Samantha” Dean pulled you over to sit next to him while the four of you waited. His hand came to rest on your knee which you’d found was more of a comfort thing to him than anything while Crowley explained that the building you were currently in was a front for an N.S.A. listening post. “What are the listening for?” Cas asked and Crowley shrugged “Everything, The U.S. government is quite the voyeur these days so I planted one of my best and let her go to work” 

A security guard walked over and addressed Crowley “Mr Crowley she’ll see you now” all of you stood but he shook his head “Just Mr Crowley” before Crowley walked off Cas reminded him “I’ll be listening to every word you say”

You sat back down to wait this time between Cas and Dean. A few minutes passed then Dean checked his watch and asked Cas “Hear anything?”  “No” Cas replied so you guessed “The room’s warded isn’t it?” he nodded. “Awesome, that’s frickin awesome” Dean grumbled, rubbing your knee slightly. You put your hand over his to stop any further movements and he glanced up at your face so you mouthed “Breathe baby” he nodded slowly turning his hand to lace his fingers with yours. You used your free hand to touch Cas’ arm “Just give him a few minutes. If he acts up I’ll hand you the blade to carve his heart out”

------

Twenty long minutes passed before Crowley walked back down the stairs. All of you stood to meet him and he held out a photo of baby from a traffic cam “Your phallus on wheels just ran a red light in Somerset Pennsylvania ten minutes ago”  “Let’s go” you urged and Crowley nodded towards you “What sweets said”

------

When you made it to Somerset Dean cut his eyes at you as he parked “If I asked you to stay here?” “I’d tell you to bite me and not mean it sexually” you replied and he sighed “Thought so”

You followed him and Cas down the road to where baby was parked and ran a hand along her side as you walked past her. You knew the drill, stay out the way mainly because they were worried this angel may pinpoint you as a bargaining chip not only for the two of them but for Sam as well.

You followed Dean into the door and nudged his arm then pointed to what was clearly blood. The two of you followed it into the living room to find a body with his throat slashed then heard water running from the kitchen. He reached one hand to be able to touch you as both of you followed the sound. 

The angel wearing Sam’s face stood at the sink with his back towards you washing his hands. He turned the water off before saying “Dean, you and Y/N should not have come here” then turned to face the two of you.  “You killed our friend then took Sam and you think I’m gonna let that stand?” “I allowed you to live, I allowed her to live” The angel replied motioning towards you Dean shrugged “Mistake letting me live” 

The angel flung you both backwards and you landed in a heap but as he walked towards the two of you Cas walked in behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, when he turned Cas hit him once and he went down. “Damn” you breathed as Dean helped you to your feet. You glanced down at Sam’s still then back to Dean “What now?” “We get him up and get somewhere to hack his ass” you picked up the discarded angel blades you and Dean dropped then looked from him to Cas “Well I’ll leave carrying the giant to the two of you”

------

You drove Cas’ car while Dean loaded the angel wearing Sam, Cas and Crowley into baby. You followed him a few miles out of town until he pulled off at a warehouse near the water so you parked behind him then climbed out and walked up beside the impala. Cas glanced your way when Crowley questioned “Why couldn’t I ride with sweets?” and said “Because Dean nor I want you alone with her” you shot Cas a small smile then watched as he helped Dean carry Sam’s still form inside.

You followed them inside and stood back while they went about chaining Sam’s form down to a chair. Cas reached a hand out so you gladly let him push you behind him. He had grace back flowing through him so even with clipped wings he was in a lot better shape than you were to face an angel.

Cas had already done an initial check of Sam’s injuries so when the angel started stirring Dean walked into his line of vision “Welcome to the party pal” then nodded to Cas “How we looking?” you glanced towards Cas for the answer and let out a relieved breath when the answer was “Most of Sam’s internal burns have healed. I should be able to fix the rest” he looked from Dean to you before addressing the angel in Sam “What’s your name? I thought I knew every angel in heaven, but I’ve never seen you”

The angel glared at the three of you and it made a shiver of horror run up your spine at just how little he sounded like Sam in that moment “Why would I tell you anything?” Dean took a step towards the angel as he said “Well I don’t give a damn who you are. You need to get out now!” “And if I don’t?” the angel challenged to which Crowley actually spoke up and said “Then you and I will have a lovely little playdate”

The angel set his eyes on you when he said “Even bound I can rip this body apart. Tell them Castiel.” “You do, you die” Dean growled but the angel was undeterred “You want this to end? Go ahead and put a blade through your brother’s heart” you felt your chest clench at that very thought and at the look on Dean’s face. You cared too much about both brothers to see that happen, if it came down to it you wouldn’t let Dean.

The angel looked up at Dean “If it makes you feel better, I have Sam locked away in a dream. As far as he knows you, him and Y/N are working a case right now. Something with ghouls and cheerleaders” Dean turned away from him and caught your eye for just a moment before asking him “Why are you doing this? We fought together and I trusted you. You saved Sam and Y/N. I thought you were one of the good guys!”  When that actually seemed to affect the angel that made you curious. It seemed to hurt him when Dean said he thought he was one of the good guys. “I am doing what I have to do” he argued so you shrugged “So are we” 

You nodded to Dean so he looked to Crowley who slowly stood up and grabbed one of the large needles that were laid out onto the table. “So am I” he repeated before digging the first needle into Sam’s skull. The scream the angel let out was pure pain. Cas turned his head away but Dean looked straight on, you knew he was punishing himself for the fact that he still blamed himself for what the angel did. You swallowed hard to keep the bile down that was threatening to come up your throat. Possessed or not that was your best friend in that chair and seeing Dean in pain on top of that? It was almost too much for you to bear.

------

By the time Crowley got the third needle in you couldn’t handle it anymore. You stood from where you’d been sitting “Dean, I’m sorry baby but I can’t” and quickly walked out the room they were in. You felt too hot, like your jacket was choking you despite the cool night. You couldn’t help none of them like this, damn you felt weak.

You sat there on the damp floor trying to catch your breath before you heard footsteps.You didn’t have to glance up to know it was Dean and Cas. You glanced up and Dean shook his head “I couldn’t do it anymore either” 

“It’s not Sam but it’s still Sam” Cas reasoned and you nodded from where you sat. You flinched every time the angel screamed. Cas held a hand out so you let him pull you up to your feet. You glanced at Dean then asked Cas “How are you doing?” 

Cas looked confused for a second as he looked between both of you “You want to talk about me? Now?” “I want to talk about anything that’s not a demon sticking needles into my brother’s brain and I know Y/N feels the same” when Dean’s voice cracked you reached for his arm and he pulled you into his side before he begged “Please humor us Cas, how ya doing?” 

“Um, I’m ok” Cas finally said so you pulled away from Dean and pulled him into a hug. He seemed shocked for a moment then hugged you back. When you pulled away you explained “That’s for not protecting you better when you were human. Cas you’re my family you mean just as much to me as they do”  “Yeah man I’m sorry for kicking you out of the bunker, for not telling you about Sam” Dean added.

Cas simply said “You thought his life was at stake” “Yeah I got played” Dean replied so Cas reminded him “I thought I was saving heaven, I got played too” Dean scoffed “So you’re saying we’re both dumbasses” “You both wanted to trust someone. Someone who portrayed themselves as something they weren’t. Not dumb or ass” you cut in and they both gave you a small smile before Crowley called out “Laverne! Shirley! Sweets! All three of you get in here!”

------

You followed Dean and Cas back into the room. What Crowley wanted to show was that he’d dug around enough to get the angel’s true identity. Gadreel. The angel who had let Lucifer into the garden and doomed all of mankind. 

Cas rightfully had some built up anger at Gadreel but Dean pulled him back and reminded him to chill. Cas shoved his hand off but let your hand remain. “I will for Sam” you nodded a thank you before pulling your hand away.

------

With no other option you stood next to Dean and watched as Crowley’s smoke form left his vessel and flowed into Sam. Cas couldn’t get in without permission so since Sam wouldn't be fast to trust Crowley Dean told him the go word which was poughkeepsie. It meant drop everything and run. It was a system they’d come up with in their early twenties and had worked thus far.

Your eyes were on Sam’s body imagining the fight going on inside his head. You felt Dean’s hand on your lower back and leaned into his touch for comfort. You didn’t want to give voice to the thought inside your head and a part of you was relieved when Cas was the one to say “If this doesn’t work” “It’ll work” Dean cut him off before leaving a light kiss on your temple then walked across the room.

You took a deep breath while you watched Sam’s face for any indication as to what was happening.

------

“Dean!” you called his name a half second before the blinding white light of Gadreel’s essence flowing out of Sam lit up the room. Cas moved to shield your eyes from the light so you turned into his arm. Crowley’s smoke formed followed, flowing back into his vessel. “Sam!” you called moving to help Dean unchain him while Cas worked the remove the needles left behind.

“Sam are you ok?” Cas asked and you could see the confusion on Sam’s face but a vehicle pulling up broke any sort of relief that moment gave. Cas walked over to a window then glanced back “It’s Abaddon!” “Go. The back door. I’ll handle this” Crowley told Dean with a nod.

“Thanks Boris. Don’t die” you muttered while Cas and Dean supported Sam between them. You got in front of them with an angel blade in hand as a precaution. 

------

All of you got far enough away that you could stop for Cas to heal the holes in Sam’s head left by the needles. You stood back watching with your stomach in knots. Would he hate Dean for it? Would he hate you?

After Cas had healed Sam Dean walked over to join the two of them. Cas took a few steps away but you stayed where you were, close enough to hear and intervene if need be but not interfere if unneeded.

“Ok, let me hear it” Dean stated. Sam shrugged “What do you want me to say? That I’m pissed?” Dean nodded so he admitted “Ok, I am. I’m pissed. You lied to me. You got Y/N to lie to me” “He didn’t get me to do anything Sam! I agreed to lie because we didn’t have a choice at the time” you cut in but Sam wouldn’t even look your way before scoffing softly “I was ready to die! “We weren’t ready to let you” you argued and there were tears in Sam’s eyes when he did look your way “So my brother and best friend tricked me into being possessed by some psycho angel?” “He saved your life” Dean spoke and Sam shook his head “I was willing to die..and now Kevin” he trailed off and you felt your heart twist.

“No. That is not on you. Kevin’s blood is on my hands” Dean argued and you started to open your mouth but he shook his head and added “That ain’t ever getting clean” god why did he always have to take the world on his shoulder. “It’s on neither of you! It’s on Gadreel! He killed Kevin!” you stated not backing down from either of them.

“I’m going after Gadreel alone” Dean said after a moment and Sam cut his eyes at you before asking “What does that mean?” Dean tilted his head “Sammy, Y/N...People who get close to me get killed or worse. I can’t lose either of you”

“Go. I’m not going to stop you” Sam told him and you swallowed your words to let the brothers have a moment. Dean stepped away from Sam but stopped when Sam said “But don’t go thinking that’s the problem cause it’s not” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean questioned but Sam wouldn’t elaborate “Just go!”

You’d never felt more torn than standing between the two of them, watching one walk away and one stand in place. “Sam” you started but he nodded once “Go with him. He needs you more than I do right now” “Do you hate me?” you whispered and he shook his head “Never” you stepped close enough to press a kiss to his cheek then hurried to catch up to Dean before he climbed into baby.

------

When you grabbed Dean’s arm he froze and looked down at your hand “Y/N what are you doing?” you met his eyes and said “Either I go with you now or I go home and get my jeep and track you. Sam has Cas to help him, I’m not leaving you alone not now anyways” you could see the muscle clenching in his jaw and expected him to argue but he took a deep breath then said “I meant that I can’t lose you sweetheart if something happened to you because of me..” he trailed off but you didn’t need him to finish the thought to know what he meant. “Well then it’s a good thing I’ll be at your side. I know if I die next to you that you did everything you could to keep me alive”

“Get in then” he finally said so you looked back at Sam and Cas before walking around to climb into the passenger seat. You weren’t choosing him over Sam you were just making the choice that felt the most right at the moment and letting Dean drive away alone? You couldn’t do that.

Tags: @facadeformyrealblog @akshi8278

[razieltwelve]

Prophecy (Final Rose)

Aquila scowled ominously at Diana. “Could you stop rubbing my head. I’m not a magic eight ball.”

Diana cackled at the other girl. “I don’t know. You’ve got Seer powers just like your mom, which means you kind of are like a magic eight ball.” She rubbed Aquila’s head. “Magic eight ball, tell me who’s going to win the fight between Weiss and Rin!”

“...” Aquila reached up and grabbed Diana’s wrist. “I will stab you.”

“Is that a prophecy or a promise?”

“Both.” Aquila huffed. “Don’t think you can boss me around just because you’re a year older. I’m taller than you now, you know!”

“You might be taller,” Diana replied. “But I possess world-ending monster power!” She rubbed Aquila’s head. “Now, bestow your wisdom upon this humble petitioner!”

“Stop being an idiot.” Averia grabbed Diana and put her down a good two yards away from Aquila. “Aquila, if you actually want her to stop rubbing your head like a magic eight ball, you should stop blushing like crazy when she does it. She finds it adorable, which is why she does it in the first place.”

Diana nodded sagely. “It is very adorable.”

Aquila responded by petulantly throwing a pebble at Diana. The pebble hit Diana square in the forehead. “Really? You didn’t dodge?”

“Why would I? You could throw a boulder and it wouldn’t do anything.” Diana rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “As the older and bigger - metaphorically - person, I thought I’d let you have a little win.”

“...” Aquila sighed. “Please, tell me that you didn’t drag me out here just to ask me who would win the fight. I know you and Aunt Vanille are running a betting ring, so I’m not going to tell you anything.”

“She probably dragged you out here, so you could take a break,” Averia replied. “Since she can tell you’ve been stressing about who might be on your team next year. You’re about to go into your first year at the Junior Academy, so they’re still trying out team configurations, but they usually like to settle on something just before the year starts.”

“...” Aquila scowled. “You know, I hate how observant you can be sometimes, Diana.”

“Hey, I’m not just a troll. I have eyes.” Diana waved her hands around. “I can even have extra eyes if I want. In fact, I could cover myself with eyes...”

“Please, don’t.”

“Anyway,” Averia said. “Diana doesn’t even need to ask you who’s going to win. She already knows. We both do.”

“Oh?” Aquila asked. “Is that Saviour and Ragnarok talking or Averia and Diana?”

“A bit of both.” Diana held her hand out to one side and gestured. A squirrel ran out of a nearby tree and settled on her arm. Aquila shook her head in disbelief. Diana had already weaponised the campus’s squirrels. “The future is always in motion, but the odds are pretty clear.”

“Simply put,” Averia said. “Given how short a period she’s had to prepare, Weiss has almost no chance of victory. She simply cannot hit both hard and fast enough to keep Rin from closing the distance. If goes for harder hits, she’ll be too slow. If she goes for faster hits, there won’t be enough oomph behind them. Given that, it is a near-certainty that Rin will be able to close the distance. At that point, Weiss is going to have to hold her off in melee combat.”

Diana shrugged. “I’ve sparred against both of them. Rin is good. Really good. I’d put her just a little bit below Yang in hand-to-hand combat, but she’s really crafty too whereas Yang tends to just swamp you like a tidal wave. She’s also spent most of her life sparring against people with weapons whereas most of Weiss’s practice has been against people who are also using weapons, not people who prefer hand-to-hand combat.”

“So you’re saying Weiss is doomed?”

“She’s in a lot of trouble is what we’re saying,” Averia said. She dodged the pebble Diana threw at her and raised one eyebrow at her sister before leaning to the side and catching the squirrel that leapt at her. She stared at the squirrel for a moment, glaring at the animal, and then throwing it back to Diana. “But this might be good for Weiss. You often learn more from losing than you do from winning.”

“How often do you lose?” Aquila asked.

“Ask my parents,” Averia replied. “I generally feel like a piñata after a spar with either of them.” 

“Just be glad they’d actually hesitate to stab you.” Diana chuckled. “I end up walking out of my sparring sessions looking like a porcupine.”

“What do you think will happen if Weiss loses?” Aquila asked.

“I think she’s going to be extremely mad.” Averia shrugged. “She’s going to see just how big the gaps in her skillset are, and she’s going to be enraged that they’ve been allowed to get that far. She’s going to look back on the tutors who coddled her, and she’s going to wonder why none of them pointed the flaws out. She’s also not going to be happy with Ruby.”

“Oh?”

“Ruby takes it easy on her,” Diana said. “Because she doesn’t want to make Weiss mad since they got off to an awkward start because of how young she is. I mean, I get it, Ruby is a prodigy, but Weiss was expecting to either be team leader or for Yang to be team leader since they’re the same age.”

“And Ruby is really nice,” Aquila murmured. “So she probably didn’t want to go all super mega reaper death scythe psycho on her?”

“Super mega reaper death scythe psycho?” Averia asked. “Who came up with...” Aquila waggled her eyebrows at Diana. “Of course, you’d come up with that.”

“Hey, it fits.”

“Kindness can kill,” Averia said quietly. “Ruby is a brilliant fighter - a true prodigy - and her grasp of small-scale tactics and adaptation is fantastic. But she needs to learn to see the bigger picture, and she needs to learn when a firm hand is needed. I suspect that one of the reasons the headmaster allowed Rin to make her challenge so early in the year is because he wants to teach both Weiss and Ruby a lesson.”

“Games within games.”

“It’s something the headmaster specialises in.” Averia’s brows furrowed. “My mother had to learn the opposite lesson with her team, that she couldn’t simply run over people and treat them without mercy if she wanted them to actually follow her instead of being dragged along.”

“She was a tyrant.” Aquila shuddered. “The stories are legendary.”

“She is a tyrant,” Diana said, grinning.

“Either way, Weiss is going to be extremely not happy about her loss. I believe it’s going to motivate her in a way few things ever have. She’s going to go after her weaknesses like a woman possessed until she feels she can challenge Rin back and win.”

“And how will Rin take it?”

“She won’t gloat much,” Diana said. “I think, if she and Weiss’s families weren’t enemies, that she’d actually quite like Weiss. I know that she respects her. She’ll assume that Weiss is going to come after her later, so she’ll train like crazy too.”

“Just as the headmaster intended?” Aquila asked.

“Probably.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Aquila is the second child of Caius and Yeul. She’s the one who got the Seer powers and is her mother’s successor. Trajan is 17 whereas Aquila is 13. This makes her one year younger than Diana who is 14. She’s about to enter the Junior Academy, so she’s spending some time at Beacon just seeing how everything works and trying to find out who is on her team. Despite being a year younger, she is indeed slightly taller than Diana (at least for now).

[10boys]

MLQC:Kissing/make-out

♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

*how they like their mouth action

Victor Kissing:

-Victor doesnt do “small pecks”, if your lips are on his he simply cannot just take a “peck”

-Even short kisses are deep and invading, his lips know exactly how to manipulate against yours

-He’ll kiss you where and when he wants and only where and when he wants

-He of course won’t oblige to a request from you

-But you rarely want to give him that satisfaction, he knows if he teases you with almost kisses you’ll start to whine which is what he wants

-His urge usually arises from admiring your face (canon bc of like...all his cards lol), the sunlight hits your eyes perfectly making them a glistening shade lighter, a sunkissed glow making your features appear softer. Your bright eyes accompanied by your long lashes shoot his way , catching him in his trance. He grins as a small blush creeps to his cheeks , knowing he’s seemingly been caught.

-Your tongue quickly made a lap over your lips, drawing his attention downward. Before you had time to wittily joke on him like he does you, his lips are pressed to yours.

-His kisses are deep. they’re possessive. they’re full of all the words he doesn’t say and all emotions he doesn’t show

-Saucy victor loves making you stick your tongue out so he can slowly lick and suck it ;)

-He doesnt think much about it, he just goes in.

- Favorite place to kiss is your lips and ear. He lovesss when you hug him with your head snuggled in his chest, it makes it easy for him nuzzle into your hair and leave small kisses and nibs on ur ear tips

-Loves being kissed on his chest (as tall as you can reach) and back on his shoulder mussels

-Keeps his hand in your hair for his comfort

-Definitely holds your jaw while he sucks

Lucien:

-Lucien loves to give you surprise kisses!

-You two are having one of your guys’ usual library dates

-You’ve been aimlessly wondering through the shelves for a while, collecting interesting finds as you go. After retrieving around 3 or 4 books you venture back to find lucien whos proudly holding down the fort (your guys’ fav spot)

-He leans aginst his seat leasurly holding a wide book infront of him, covering his face from view

-You set down your books and pull out the seat near him, beginning to pry the book away from his face

-“ You can’t see that badly? Did you bring your gla-“

-Suddenly he tugged your face closer to share his behind the book, creating a sensual secret space only occupied by the two of you

-His lavender eyes shares hypnotizing relaxation through with you, his soft smile sent your cheeks a blaze after realizing how near they were to your own. He took a moment sending suductive messages with his eyes, always so full of passion and interest. You watched his delicate eye lashes lower as his lips puckered.

-You instinctively copy his actions, closing the gap.

-Luciens favorite place to kiss is either your fingers or peppered kisses across your face

-Opposite of Victor, sultry lucien likes sticking his tongue out for you to lick and suck ;)

-He’s not afraid of pda, loves leaving kissing on your neck and ears when queued up for a new restaurant or in the line to get coffee

-He loves to build the moment up for your kisses too, sometimes he’ll just stare at your lips bluntly while caressing your face. Being under this intense analyzation brings heat to your cheeks as you try not to grin bashfully, he can’t help to lick his lips, you can only imagine what he’s thinking...

Gavin:

-Gavin gives u uwu kisses

-Usually kisses you when he thinks you’re doing something cute to hide his blushing face

-So yeah you get alottt of kisses

-Its usually a “grabs your whole face and mushes his agaisnt yours” type kiss. Butterfly kisses mixed with full-face

-Loves kissing your hand cause it makes him feel like your gentleman

-Loves getting kisses on his forhead and scars

-Sultry gavin loves getting kisses on his chest and nipples ;)

-He also likes to suck fingers ;)

- You were on your bed taking some last-minute notes off your laptop. Gavins head would usually be laying on your thigh at times like this, making it a bit difficult to focus and write

-Which is exactly why he’s across the room on the couch watching TV until you’re finished. He likes looking through the silly things you watch on Hulu and Youtube. You turn your head and catch a glimps of him, body leasurly laid across your sofa with one airm raised to support his head. The odd position causes his shirt to lift, showing his extremely toned V line.

-The view causes you to bite your lip as a malicious thought arises

-“Wahh~ Officer Gavin~ theirs a bug ~ come kill it ~ save me ~”

-He rolls from his previous position on the couch to foot of your bed.

-“Where? I dont see it”

-“Right there!!” you excitedly point to a corner across you, seemingly containing nothing

-He turns inspecting the area, beginning to confront you about its location

-“It just went under that box !! ewww get it”

-You watch as he bends over, searching between and under for said “spider” , but all you’re seatching for is the heart to stop him

-His shirt swings sways and rises as he bends and straightens out, his muscles tighten everytime he reaches while his thighs thicken with every squat

-“Baby im really not seeing it-” he begins before catching you in the middle of your daze. Your eyes are fixed on him but not his face, nor the so-called spider he was looking for

“You think you’re funny” he replies with a smile as he makes his way to the bed crawling on from the foot

-You playfully tease and squeeze his face, admiring his obedience

-He cups his hand over yours, eyes dazzling over a tinge of pink as you two share this loving and intimate moment. You poke a few silly kissy faces making him laugh, inching closer to close the gap. Your smiling faces press against each other, happiness is all you are with him.

Kiro:

-Wants the most kisses

-Or more properly, verbally and physically requests them the most

-Wake up kiss , good night kiss, ily kiss, you’re cute kiss, thank you kiss, I’ve just been stairing at you for 5 minutes kiss, convincing you not to leave kiss, jealous kiss, and many more

-He doesnt necessarily build up a moment every time either

-Ofc he stares lovingly into ur eyes with a sweet grin and blushy cheeks before he dives in intimately

-But most the time he just dives in wheneverr, He likes seeing you suprised and blushy over him. While you’re preparing a meal or finishing documents he’ll just run up to plant one on u, accompanied by a super hero kiro squeeze

-Loves to give cheek and face-mush kisses

-Loves to receive lip, face and eye kisses

-Loves kisses down his spine, when your attention is on him

-Honestly, sultry kiro will kiss and suck along the way to any and every area

-Give him a surprise lip kiss to unlock ‘weird’ kiro

-You sat across him watching as the food 10x bigger than his mouth goes down with ease, goku is that you?

-It seems he’s caught onto your intrigue, his bubbly blue eyes meet yours as a cheeky grin appears

-“Mmm this is so good! Here, try some!” He extends a cream puff twords you encouraging a bite

-You lower his hand as a respectable “no thank you” guesture, his half aten puff sadly falls back go the plate

-Although he’s easily the cutest boy in the world with squirrel stuffed cheeks, his messy left over just didn’t seem apatizing enough

-You reach out for a fresh puff and get swatted away just as quickly , you raise your gaze to kiros brows in a mighty furrow

-“And what was wrong with my puff?!?!” he exclaims pretending to be overwhelmed with offense. You giggle at his child-like energy and pettyness as you use the swatted hand to squeeze his puff-full cheeks.

-“Nothings wrong ! You were just enjoying them so well i wanted my own” you lie. He’s cute, but he’s no fool. His eyes pour into you, somehow letting you know he’s not biting that foney excuse. He smiles to himself although a lightbulb went off that only shined on him.

-“Of course not chip princess! Whats mine-” he begins placing a puff in his mouth

-“Is yours”. He closes his eyes and leans across the table, his lips wet and pink around the pale colored puff are inviting. His eyelashes cast a soft shadow on his cheeks , which seem to always have the slightest ting of pink when infront of you. His blonde locks shine like diamonds in the corner of the dimely-lit restaurant , you swear there are no circumstances that could make this man anything but beautiful.

-His eyes open, wet and dark as he pleads silently for you to finish the minastration. He knows how to charm you , and his cute ass is making it work, but not this time.

-You lean over the table taking the puff from his mouth, swiflty replacing it with a bold, blunt, but gentle kiss.

-A faint noise escapes his mouth at the sudden gesture, his now wide eyes find yours only inches away. The tips of his ears blush red before he pulls away.

“You’re bold miss chips ! If you thought i tasted better, why didn’t you just say so?”

.....x

Hi its been so long i missed writing :,) I have more shorter blurbs in the drafts so i should have more out soon !! Also requests are open ! Ty - myk

[crimsonbluemoon]

4 , 2 and 8 for the prompts and H2OVanoss :)

Okay this took way too long. >.<

AU: MafiaTrope: Enemies to loversPrompt: “wait, wait. say that again. please.”

Pairing: H2O Vanoss

Warning: Slight gore/violence cause its mafia and shit. 

“Where the hell did they get this many guys?” Vanoss swore when he ducked behind another box, hearing wood bursting from the bullets that shot through the warehouse. His eyes scanned the area, checking on the status of his gang. Basically’s arm was bleeding through the bandage that Moo had wrapped around it, proving the wound was far worse than his right-hand man wanted to admit. 

“Bigger question; why aren’t they shooting at you?” Wildcat’s swear was louder than the fight, jumping up to pepper the other crew with bullets. Despite his aggressive attack, Vanoss knew the grim truth; they’d been ambushed. It was meant to be a simple deal, and Vanoss hadn’t thought the smaller gang was a threat. That’d been why he left most of his men back at the hideout; they were mid-investigating a mysterious gang that had recently showed up on the west side of the city. 

But apparently, from the grins of the west side gang now surrounding the warehouse, the smaller gang had chosen a side. And it wasn’t Vanoss’s. 

“I can’t get a signal out to the guys; they must have a jammer with them.” Marcel’s voice was strained, almost on the side of hopeless. 

“Shit!” This time it was pain that snapped in Wildcat’s shout, and red pooled from his side from the bullet’s contact. 

“What’s the plan, Vanoss?” Moo’s voice shook, and Vanoss gritted his teeth at his own stupidity. He didn’t have a plan. They weren’t going to get out of this alive at this rate. The set up was too simple, why hadn’t he picked up on the classic bait-and-switch-

“Need some help?” Vanoss jerked his head at the voice above him, eyes wide when seeing the crazy smile shining from the rafters. 

“Delirious?” A gun was twirled in the air before a whistle shot through the air, and the visual of men dropping from the rafters was breath-taking. The show caught the other gang off guard, leaving them helpless to the spray of bullets rained down on them. Cartoonz laughed while he dropped down with ease Vanoss knew wasn’t faked, aiming his shots into the lackey’s foreheads. Anyone who aimed their guns at Cartoonz dropped like flies in seconds. A shift on a higher beam and a flash of a grey blindfold proving their sniper, Ohmwrecker, was not letting Cartoonz get hurt. Overwhelming the troops from behind, Squirrel and Gorilla were trading witty barbs while they took on the grunts on the ground. Blood splashed over their clothes from the deadly assault. 

“Hey there, Owl-man.” And in the middle of the chaotic fray was their leader. Delirious was known for his crazy antics, and his ruthlessness was almost as crucial to his personality as his unpredictability. Delirious and his motley crew were on nobody’s side but their own, and the crazed clown could decide to attack any crew he felt deserved it over breakfast. Vanoss had been on the wrong side of Delirious’s switchblade a few times in earlier years, especially when Vanoss’s crew had first started in the east bay. Delirious always had tricks up his sleeve, tampering with guns or ruinings trades between rival gangs just to get under Vanoss’s skin. They’d even fought once, both of their gangs simply watching their leaders beat the shit out of each other. Vanoss still remembered the unusual rush of heat in his stomach at the bloody smile Delirious had worn after the scuffle. The feeling had lingered long after the sprained wrist and bruised ribs. 

Vanoss didn’t really know what Delirious thought of him. The anger and hatred from before was long gone. They didn’t fight every time they met anymore. In fact, Vanoss realized Delirious and his crew had started hanging around his own more, and the duo tended to warn the other when they planned to make a move of power or started a turf war with another gang. Once, Cartoonz had saved Terroriser from getting jumped, and Panda returned the favor after Squirrel stumbled into the wrong neighborhood without his piece. Neither tried to encroach on the other’s territory anymore, despite it sharing many lines in the city. When Delirious snuck into Vanoss’s office at night ‘out of boredom’ at his hangout, Evan didn’t worry about his life as much as he once did. Sure, he still didn’t know Delirious or any of his gang’s actual names. Evan also didn’t share his own, keeping a barrier between them. Still, he never felt the twitching need to grab the gun he had strapped on his thigh, no matter how close the two sat in the darkness of the night.

“What are you doing here?” Vanoss asked, Delirious scanning behind Vanoss before he aimed his gun at the fray of men trying to run away.

“Got a tip.” Three easy shots took out two of the men, while the final shot was shifted to blow out the final grunt’s knee. Looking gleeful at the explosion of blood, Delirious shucked the gun over his shoulder, the strap keeping it close to his back. Then his blue eyes bore back down at Vanoss, his laugh growing at Vanoss’s scowl. “Said a bird might have been set up.” 

“We were doing fine without-”

“Ohm, get out of your damn nest and bring the first aid kit. This kid’s hurt.” Cartoonz’s voice cut off Vanoss’s protest, the older gang member helping Brock move Marcel to a flat surface. 

“This one, too.” Gorilla had his hand over Tyler’s side, keeping pressure and an even keel voice. “But I think the brats are both gonna live.” 

“We’re not brats,” Basically grumbled, his hiss loud after Cartoonz smacked the side of his head.  “Ow, hey! What the hell?” 

“I think you were in diapers when I shot my first gun.” Vanoss watched Cartoonz and Basically started to bicker as Ohm rushed over with his kit, Brock’s face panicked while trying to stop the fight. He only let his attention linger for a moment before turning back to Delirious, who had already moved to the man he’d left bleeding out in the entrance of the warehouse. Surprised at how silent the other leader had been in his movements, Evan moved after him, wondering why he’d left the last man alive. 

“-so if you like that particular part of your body attached, you’ll tell me why they’re after Vanoss.” He caught the tail end of the playful threat from Delirious, the knife weaving in and out of his fingers in obvious meaning. 

“No-not trying to kill him!” Fear that Delirious had earned was filling the wounded grunt’s words. “Kill his people!”

“Who wants my guys dead? What do they gain from that? And why would they want to kill my people, but not me?” Vanoss asked, picking up on the avoidance of the man’s eyes. 

“Their plan…” The hesitation of the sentence made Delirious growl, kicking into the ribs of the man once with his steel boots.

“Spill your shit or your dick is mine!” Evan wanted to point out how stupid the comment sounded (was he trying to threaten or seduce?), but another hit finally parted the other’s lips.

“He wants Vanoss as his!” Gasping, it took a few shaky breaths for the man to continue. “Thinks if he…isolates him, kills his gang…he’ll own Vanoss, take him in. From some guy named Jonathan. ‘Own the Owl-man’ or something like that.” 

The twitch of Delirious’s shoulders and the long silence sent a chill down Vanoss’s spine.     

“Wait, wait. Say that again.” There was a murderous edge in Delirious’s eyes when he stepped onto the bleeding knee of the other man. His smile took a twisted darker edge hearing the man’s whimpers, then added pressure. “Please.”

“Delirious.” Vanoss didn’t know why the focus on his life made the other’s normally light-hearted nature fizzle out so fast, or why it squeezed around his heart. “He’s gonna go unconscious-”

“If you pass out, I’ll chop you up and feed you to your family. I’ll make sure they know every piece, every bite, is you. Tell me exactly what he said.” Gone was the goofy threats and half-fumbled words; here was the man that made even the strongest of gangsters quiver. People thought that Cartoonz really ran the gang, and that Delirious was simply too distracted or unsure to keep the strong men under his control. Vanoss once thought that, too; Cartoonz tended to snap at Delirious and give far more sass in the few interactions Vanoss had seen than he thought a right hand man should. 

But in these moments, the ones where only people Delirious trusted or weren’t long for this earth got to see, Delirious was death incarnate.   

“Said…said ‘I want Jonathan know I’m here. I wan to own his Owl-man’. He didn’t say who Jonathan was or-or what he had to do with Vanoss, but-that’s all, I swear.” Delirious watched the grunt squirm on the floor without emotion, his eyes unfocused with a haunted look that made Vanoss swallow. A heartbeat later, Delirious had his gun in his hand, no hesitation in his face when blowing the other’s brains out. One shot became two, and Evan stared helplessly as several more were launched into the twitching corpses’s mutilated face. Delirious’s gun ran out from how many times he shot, and even still he tried to shoot.  

“Delirious.” Softly, Vanoss moved forward, hand hesitant to curl over the hand that kept pulling the trigger. “You can stop. He’s dead.”  

“He’s not.” Somehow, Vanoss knew they weren’t talking about the same he. Once vacant, the blue of Delirious’s eyes blazed with overwhelming anger, eyes slowly turning to Evan. Rage was there, but deeper, Vanoss could see something possessive break the hostility. “But he will be.”

Unsure how to process the statement, Vanoss didn’t speak, watching Delirious shrug off his hold and stalked back into the warehouse. Slowly, Vanoss turned his eyes back down to the body bleeding out by his feet. He wasn’t sure who was after him, or why, but it seemed Delirious did. And he’d taken it personally, though Vanoss didn’t know why. 

But he planned to find out.

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

][Mahogany and Rhys for ship headcanon meme][ 1 || 2 || 4 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 11 || 12 || 14 || 16 || 18 || 22 || 23 || 25 || 28 || 29

@blind-mutant

1. Who makes the first move and how?

Mahogany does! They bring Rhys a bunch of rats and flowers and flowers with rats buried between them. They took some creative liberties.

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

Rhys is since he's considerably smaller, weaker and Mahogany is so clear sighted about what they want in life. Mahogany can usually smell these moods from him and it immediately calls for some good Wendigo cuddles and aggressive rolling in the nest and cooing over how smart and how tricky Rhys is. Worst comes to worst??? Sex.

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Mahogany since they had to be told to be aware of their personal space when they and Rhys first met. But when he let's them touch him freely? Holding his hand, hugging him, carrying him when they can and kissing Rhys is the best! They get huffy if they can't touch him at least once lt twice an hour.

6. Who would they ask if they ever had a threesome?

Oof uhhh,,,,if they were to find and know a more friendly other wendigo then probably them but I also imagine that if Rhys had someone he wanted to keep around and introduce to Mahogany then they would accept that person into their pack and be happy to take care of their new mate. Ngl if Rhys talks 'bout Blue then I imagine Mahogany silently considers her part of the pack when they smell how sad and in love Rhys was.

7. What do they get up to on a night out?

Well, mostly just sneaking about to get meat but Mahogany likes wandering about places at night and crawling along walls and overall seeming creepy. They like looking into windows and staring at sleeping people which,,,,Rhys slowly nods at that and just gets them to the nearest park or forest where they demand to know how playgrounds work and Rhys, a full grown man I guess, has to slide down a small plastic child's slide so his 6'9 lover can nod and clap.

8. What do they like in bed?

Rhys loves it when they bite him and wrap their arms around him to tug him closer to hold him close as they lift him up. He likes overall reminders that they can crush him yet he's the only one who can put his fingers in their mouth and be completely safe.

Mahogany loves it when Rhys bites them too and they love it when Rhys is always a bit rough, like forcefully spreading their legs or tugging their hair when he's feeling so good. They like having their attention on him. Oh and eating him out.

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

Rhys tried to hunt with Mahogany but couldn't even catch a running squirrel before he slid off a steep edge and fell into a river. Mahogany fished him out and caught a bird in midair. He sulked in the bath for hours.

Mahogany isn't ever really embarrassed by stuff? But one time they went out in nothing but Rhys's shirt and wondered why he had suddenly raced after them, red faced and trying to apologise to a woman as he patted their bare butt back into the motel. He laughed tho when they asked if he was going to slap it more.

11. What do they hide from one another?

Rhys hides a surprisingly big amount, both small and large issues due to the fact that Mahogany acts on heart rather than thinking. He doesn't want them to know how someone had called him a freak earlier or that he wasn't a wendigo. I feel like Rhys often manipulates Mahogany for their safety and that even includes a time he told them that it was dangerous to go outside when maybe it wasn't really??

Mahogany often hides stuff that has happened to them or about the Wendigo history. Rhys hardly knows anything about their kind and he doesn't know about certain incidents like how someone tried to attack them earlier. They see no reason to worry their mate and they don't want Rhys to get upset like he always does if someone may be leaving gifts for Mahogany and always leaves the smell of a potential mate around.

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

Mahogany beings to get extra protective and officially starts calling Rhys their mate as well as trusting him entirely while Rhys officially starts to get worried at times for their hunts and becomes a lot more receptive to Magni bringing him gifts and their more possessive touches.

A bad side is Rhys becomes more stern on bath times and crying doesn't work anymore to make him soften up ;_;.

14. When one has a cold, what does the other do?

Mahogany panics and goes on a wide range stealing episode of getting as many clothes as they can to add to the nest. Curls up around Rhys to keep him cool or even wears more clothes if they're too cold for him. Whines and cries since they obviously think he's dying and if I'm honest, I wouldn't put it last Mahogany to get a human or a mutant to try and make him better. Spends most of the time crying and pressing their face against his to try and breath in his illness and take it away.

Mahogany is so confused when they get sick but it's in the summer and they can't keep anything down at all and start bloating. Probably tries to carry on as normal but Rhys has to be stern and make them lay in the nest. Like Pascal, an ice bath is needed and having to put their hair up while telling them fairy tales as they cry and sneeze repeatedly. Mahogany probably refuses to eat and only does when Rhys begs them and even then its slowly licking/drinking/slurping some watered down chicken soup he got for them.

16. When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

Oh god, Mahogany is in heaven. They get to eat people??? And not get yelled at??? Rhys undoubtedly has a breakdown or two but Mahogany is loving being able to play about with zombies and they're actually kinda chubby in this verse due to eating so much. I imagine it's a 50/50 of people wanting to be near or away from the pale mutant who is technically dating a form of zombie and honestly there's a point where Rhys probably has to have Mahogany wear a collar so others feel safe. Overall? They do pretty well! Especially with Mahogany's hunting.

But oh man scremaing has ensured at there being some sort of wendigo-zombie apocalypse. Mahogany suddenly being surrounded by forms of their own kind??? Angst.

18. When they fight, how do they make up?

Rhys apologises and it depends where they are because his apologies range from sex to getting them meat and a story. Most of the time he has to wait an hour or two because Mahogany wants to sulk and they have their hair spiked up around them to ensure he can't get near. And growling. They look like a sea bunny slug when they're mad so all he can do is sit near and wait for grumpy snuffling as they eat their meat and lick his fingers.

Mahogany hunts for Rhys and depending on how big the fight was is now big the animal is going to be. A small scuff? A rabbit. A big screamer? Mahogany drags a moose through the door and I mean. One of those fucking huge ones. They're bleeding but it's worth it to see Rhys's face when they drop it in front of Rhys and offer love making and bath times.

22. Where does their first kiss happen?

Well, technically when they first had sex on that surprise thread we did but I'm also soft at the idea of them kissing in an apple orchid because Mahogany heard that Rhys was hungry so they just....broke in and took him apple picking aka lifting him up to trees to get apples while listening out for the owners and whoop Rhys is turning around to kiss them and oh their hips are wiggling and they're chuffing loud enough to alert people better run!

23. Where is their favourite place to be together?

Anywhere with nature! Rhys probably learns to love it so much when he associates it as the safest place where Mahogany likes cuddling and rolling in the snow and swimming with him in quarries during the summer. Also having sex up against trees is great for details I probably should not get too deep into here.

25. Why do they fight?

Mahogany is rather protective and gets huffy when they can't kill humans who hurt Rhys, despite whether he agrees with it or not most of the time. He also needs to worry about how little care they give when going out to hunting and the harm they do to themselves.

A bigger issue is probably over how insistent Mahogany gets over Rhys becoming a wendigo because they see how mutants get treated and their Rhys is a mutant, so what if he gets treated badly? They get anxious and huffy more over it, desperate for their mate to be safe for good.

28. Why do they get jealous?

Mahogany gets jealous of anyone who dares goes near their mate with lustful smells. But then Mahogany just has to make Rhys smell more like them and cover him in more bites so he cannot be mistaken as free mate for anyone at all. He belongs to someone and that someone is staring angrily through a window and yeah you better slowly back away and ask why there's a tall naked person pressing up against the glass and snarling and good Rhys better be running back quickly to not let an imprint of a vulva stain the glass. Rhys is too good and too wonderful and no one should take their mate but Mahogany.

Rhys would 100% freak out and I'm laughing at that freaking out if Mahogany starts getting meat left for them and smelling arousal everywhere. Huffy gremlin man when he hears a pleased chirp as Mahogany gazes at the honeycomb pieces that got left for them and honestly I'm too invested in the idea of a mysterious creature flirting with Mahogany and Rhys just "seriously??? I get an undead - last of the species probably - lover and yet someone better still comes along??" Shshnsns

It has just occured to me that maybe this question means what they may be jealous of each other oh boy. But yeah uh, Mahogany is always jealous of how good Rhys is with human stuff and how smart he is. He always has to clean up their messes and he much better at general life stuff than them while I think Rhya would be jealous at Mahogany capabilities and how unafraid they are to get what they want and their openness.

29. Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

Mahogany falls in love with how Rhys just...accepts them how he's the only one who doesn't seem to care as much about what they are. They adore how sweet he is and how easily Rhys goes along with whatever they do and how darling he is about the way they think.

Rhys falls more for just how dedicated Mahogany is for everything about him. Rhys wants food? They're going out to hunt. Rhys wants to feel warm, awkwardly dragging blankets over him. He also likes their refreshing views and how Mahogany sees him as perfect and wonderful to be unique. They hear the phase "best thing since sliced bread" and immediately say that Rhys is better.

[falseroar]

Dark Laughter Part 9: Storm Warning

((Hi! Here are links to Part 8: Studio Time and Part 1: What Dark Saw if you want/need them! Quick warnings for gunshots and a brief mention of blood.))

“Hey there Chica Beeka, who missed me?” Mark said as the dogs ran around him and Amy back at his house. They acted as if their people had been gone for days not hours, and when Mark patted his chest and called, “Up! Up!” it took several tries before Chica listened and he could catch her front paws and gently swing her back and forth.

“I’m never sure who’s more excited when we come home, you or Chica,” Amy teased as she pet Henry.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mark said, grunting a little as he picked Chica up and spun her around a few times before putting her back down. He kept up the baby talk for the dogs a little longer, but they were soon distracted by the new toys Mark and Amy had brought home with them.

“Thank you,” he said, again. “I think getting out of the house was good for me.”

“Sunlight will do that to you,” Amy said, smiling as she went to put her bag down on the couch. “Good thing we went out when we did, it looks like it’s going to start pouring any minute now.”

“Yeah,” Mark said. He pulled back the window curtain to look up at the darkening sky. “It’s just supposed to rain, right?”

“I can check,” Amy said, already pulling out her phone.

Chica walked up to Mark with her new rope toy in mouth, and he managed to distract himself for a second trying to pull it away from her before Amy said, “Oh.”

She showed him the new storm warning on the weather app and he immediately said, “I should call Y/N.”

Amy nodded, and Mark could feel her listening as he called up your cellphone, only to swear when it just rang and rang before going to voicemail. Without bothering to leave a message, he hung up and had to dig through his contacts to find a number he rarely used.

“What’s it to you?” Abe answered his phone.

“What kind of—” Mark stopped himself. “Abe, it’s Mark. Can I talk to Y/N?”

“Y/N? Oh, right, I forgot to tell you,” the Detective said. “I dropped Y/N off at the other guys’ house. Doc said they were running a little fever, but it wasn’t anything serious.”

“What?” Mark said.

“What?” Amy mouthed from the other side of the room.

“Something wrong?” Abe asked.

“Y/N’s with Dr. Iplier, they’re not feeling well,” Mark said to Amy. “I should go over there, if the storm gets bad…”

He trailed off and Amy nodded. She had seen you jump even at the sound of thunder on the TV, and knew what it meant to you and the others who had been at the house that weekend.

“I can stay here with the dogs and keep them calm,” she said and Mark hesitated. As much as he didn’t want to leave them, he didn’t want to drag her or the dogs out into bad weather.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised.

“Wait, you’re going over there?” Abe asked, and Mark could hear the rattle of blinds on the other end of the line. He could imagine the Detective peering out at the sky overhead as he heard a sharp inhale before Abe said, “My place is on the way. If something’s wrong, then I’m coming with you.”

“What? Nothing’s wrong,” Mark said and heard the disbelief on the other end. “I’m going to check up on them, that’s all. Besides, you can’t just invite yourself along. I am not stopping to pick you up.”

“Then I’ll drive over there myself,” Abe answered. “This is my partner we’re talking about—”

“That has nothing to do with anything!” Mark heard the rattle of the Detective’s keys and sighed. “You know what, fine. But you better be ready to jump in when I drive by, because I’m just going to slow down and open a door. Last thing I want to do is be caught out in LA traffic in the rain.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I jumped into a moving car,” Abe said. “Or out of one.”

Mark didn’t bother with responding to that and just hung up on the Detective before giving Amy a real goodbye. Out in the van, he popped his phone into the holder on the dash and had it call Dr. Iplier as he backed out of the driveway and took off.

Almost immediately, he heard, “You’ve reached the office of Dr. Iplier. If this is about how you’re dying, please—”

Mark ended the call and told the phone to call Dr. Iplier’s cell, but that also went to voicemail. He was halfway to Abe’s house before his phone rang with a Google G in place of the caller’s image.

“Hey Google, are you with the doctor?” Mark asked.

“That is correct. We have only just now found a signal in our current location,” Google answered.

“Your—Aren’t you at the house?”

“Incorrect. This unit accompanied the doctor and the so-called King of the Squirrels into the woods, where the cell signal is entirely inadequate. Even here at this cabin, we only have a minimum connection to the other units.”

“Cabin?” Mark felt a bad taste rise in the back of his throat and swallowed it back. “What are you doing there?”

“The Host is incapacitated. Dr. Iplier has only just been able to bring him around, and he is babbling—”

“What?” Mark had to swerve back into his lane and forced himself to focus on the road and not on his phone. “What was he doing at the cabin?!”

“Unclear. The King of the Squirrels says that one of his… ‘subjects’ saw him enter this place, and when he arrived, he found him bound and incoherent. My words, not his.”

Straining, Mark could hear the doctor’s voice, clear and professional, and below that a raspy, rambling murmur. He pulled the van into a parking spot on the street in front of the low, run-down building the Detective called home and just stared at the phone, trying to let this sink in.

“Someone attacked him?” Mark asked.

He guessed that it was the King who answered, judging by the tone of his voice as he said, “He just kept saying he wasn’t infected, that he was in control. Over and over again.”

Silence fell on the other end of the line, and by straining Mark could hear the Host’s voice, faint and strained past recognition.

“Mask…is back.” A rasping wheeze. “It looked like…Y/N.”

Mark stared at Abe’s house as silence fell on both ends of the call before Dr. Iplier started barking orders and Google spoke about protocols, directives. Their words fell on deaf ears as Mark just kept hearing the Host’s words over and over again.

Suddenly, he swore, and then swore three more times in quick succession before jumping out of the van without bothering to end the call or even shut the door behind him.

Because it just sank in that the door to Abe’s house was standing wide open despite the rain already starting to come down, despite the fact that the Detective would never forget to lock the door behind him. It creaked in the wind as Mark ran toward it, and made a deafening crack as he pushed it out of his way and went in.

Only to come to an abrupt stop in the front hall, frozen at the sight of Abe standing with his back against the wall, both hands on his gun but unable to point it directly at the person standing opposite him.

It looked like you, except its eyes were two black holes that revealed nothing underneath and its mouth was turned in a horrible slash of a smile as it stared at the Detective. As if waiting to see what he would do.

“Abe, get away from it! It’s not Y/N!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Abe yelled, a vein showing in his forehead as his eyes kept flickering toward the bloodstain on its chest and then back up to those empty eyes. He tightened his grip on the gun, but it only seemed to tremble more as he tried to raise it. “What is this thing? Why does it look like Y/N?!”

“Shh, it’s okay, detective, we’re not here for you,” it said, the Mask wearing your face. Its voice was like yours, but just slightly distorted, as if just a pitch higher or lower than it should be while putting the emphasis in all the wrong places. “Hahaha, that would just be silly. Our business is with the man with all the masks. Of course, you could always shoot me, if you wanted to. This wouldn’t be the first partner to die at yours hands, would it?”

“You’re not my partner,” Abe said, but his eyes flickered toward Mark.

“No, this is the thing that attacked everyone last year,” Mark said, keeping his eyes on it. “It ran around looking like me, taking over most of my egos and trying to kill the rest of us until we got rid of it. That thing is just a mask, Y/N is—"

He stopped short and the smile on its face got just that much bigger.

It had possessed the others before, making them all look like it with those empty eyes and rictus smiles.

What if this really was you?

Abe looked from him to the Mask and back again, eyes too bright as he demanded, “Well? Is this them or not?”

“I…” Mark trailed off.

“How do we snap them out of it?” Abe said, voice growing louder with every question. “What did you do last year?”

“I didn’t do anything; we could barely do anything to it! Y/N did something, dragged it back into that place they were trapped in inside the mirror—”

The mirror, which was now completely shattered.

“So long in that mirror, in that nothing, so long being nothing without even a face to call my own. Heh, you have no idea, do you? Oh, not when you have so many faces to choose from.” It laughed, its mouth not quite matching the sound, and pulled a wallet out of its pocket. Abe shouldn’t have been able to tense any more than he already was, but that vein in his forehead grew bigger at the sight of his gift to Y/N in the hands of this thing. As it spoke, the Mask opened the wallet and began tossing cards out of it and onto the ground. Mark recognized them as the cards the egos had given you back at the beach on your “birthday”, each of them a promise to spend time with you. Cards of Bing, Dr. Iplier, Bim Trimmer, one ego after the other clattered to the floor as the Mask tossed them aside as if they meant nothing. “One, two…There’s just so many to choose from, and that’s just the start when so many of your lovely fans want to be just like you.”

The last card fell to the ground and the Mask tossed the wallet aside with a laugh that made both of the men shudder.

“Not going to happen,” Mark said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “What’s it going to take to get rid of you again?”

“Silly. Haven’t you been listening? Only thing we want is to just make everyone happy. Once we’re through, there’ll be so many lovely smiles, so many people who look just like me, like us. That’s why we have to take care of all those people who ruined our fun last time!” The Mask laughed and then tilted its head at an angle your neck shouldn’t have been able to go. “Maybe we can take care of all that pesky unfinished business by the time you join us. Even if we have to make them smile.”

The Mask wearing your face moved for the first time, stepping on the fallen cards as it suddenly broke into a sprint toward Abe, empty eyes trained on his as its smile opened.

Mark called out and winced, hands going to his ringing ears as one shot then two rang out.

“Abe! Abe, put the gun down,” Mark said, and repeated it before prying the weapon out of the Detective’s unresisting hands.

The moment the gun left Abe’s hands he pressed them to his head and slid to the ground, eyes clenched shut as he began to hyperventilate. “No, no, no…”

“No, Abe, look, there’s nothing there,” Mark said. He shook the Detective’s shoulder. “It’s gone, you didn’t—It’s gone.”

Abe opened one watering eye and stared at the empty hall in front of him. There wasn’t even a sign of where his bullets went in the opposite wall, but his ears still rang with the sound of the shot and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking no matter how many times Mark tried to tell him it was okay.

“I could have…” The Detective inhaled, his breath breaking on the words.

“Abe, I can’t stay here,” Mark said. “I have to get to the house, if that wasn’t Y/N…I have to make sure they’re okay, warn the others—”

He stopped and swore, remembering the call. It had already attacked the Host, if it went after the others looking like you—

And then he swore again.

“Dark saw it, he saw it last night, so it can’t be Y/N.” And he would keep telling himself that to keep from thinking about the alternative. He patted himself down and realized his phone was still out in the van.

Abe grabbed his arm as he started to stand and said, “I’m…I’m going with you. Just, just give me a second.”

Mark offered a hand to help the Detective up to his feet, but without a word Abe stood and picked up the wallet the Mask dropped, along with all of the scattered cards. He lagged behind as Mark ran out to the van in the downpour that had really started to come down while he was inside and picked up the phone. In his haste before, he hadn’t ended the call and voices were still talking on the other end.

“Google,” he said.

“You left me,” Google said, accusing.

“Yes, but it was important—”

“I was still speaking, and we registered gunshots on your end—”

“We saw it, we saw that…demon or whatever it is,” Mark interrupted. “It’s gone now, but we think it’s going back to the house. You need to send a warning to the others, now.”

He looked up as Abe got into the passenger seat and the Detective nodded and said, “It said it had unfinished business with the people who stopped it before.”

“I have already initiated the lockdown,” Google answered. “My other units have gathered the egos and are keeping them in their current locations until it is determined to be safe to leave or take other action.”

“What about Y/N? Are you still in the cabin?” Mark asked as he pulled the van out into the street, its windshield wipers struggling to keep up with the rain rushing down in torrents. At this rate, the roads were liable to start flooding.

“We can’t go anywhere,” Dr. Iplier answered. “The Host is in no condition to be moved, and Google can’t make it back to the house in this storm without risking a short circuit. But we left one of the other Googles with Y/N, they’re not alone.”

“Interfacing with other units,” Google said, and there was a beeping sound on the other end of the line. “The storm is interfering with my reception. Please hold.”

In the van, it was silent except for the rain pounding against the roof and the steady rhythm of the wiper blades across the windshield as they waited for what seemed like forever before the android spoke again.

“Red unit is in the studio with Bim Trimmer, Yandereplier, and Eric Derekson. Yellow unit is in the kitchen with Chef Iplier, Silver Shepherd, Ed Edgar—”

“You don’t have to list them all!” Mark shouted at the phone.

There was a pause and then Google said, “Green unit is in the infirmary but not responding. Y/N, Wilford Warfstache, and Darkiplier are currently the only ones unaccounted for.”

“What do you mean, he’s not responding?” Mark said, feeling his foot pressing harder against the accelerator even though he was already going too fast. Beside him, Abe tightened his grip on the handle above the passenger door but said nothing.

“The unit is receiving messages, but has yet to respond. Location indicators place it in the infirmary, and last directives it acknowledged included taking care of Y/N.”

“The Host,” Mark said, desperately. “He’s there, ask him.”

Dr. Iplier answered again, after a long pause. “Mark, the Host is in bad shape. I don’t know what they did to him, but judging by his bandages and his overexertion this morning I suspect he’s in need of a blood transfusion that we can’t give him here. He can barely speak, and even if he could narrate, he’s confused and delirious.”

“What about one of the others, back at the house?” Abe asked. “Can’t you send one of them to check?”

“Lockdown was initiated for a reason,” Google said. “Based on previous data, this so-called ‘Maskiplier’ prioritized infecting those who were alone and vulnerable. Splitting up the others would only put them at risk.”

Alone and vulnerable.

“Dark,” Mark muttered, his voice lost in the sound of the rain. Of course it would show itself to the one person no one would listen to or trust.

He remembered last night, the doubt and whispers and the sense that he hadn’t been alone in the hall and sped up again, his grip so tight on the wheel that his knuckles were turning white.

It could have done something last night, attacked him or Dark like it did the Host. But it chose to mess with their minds instead, and as lightning flashed across the sky Mark realized that it was still playing with them. Why else would it show up at Abe’s house, just when Mark was supposed to arrive? It wanted to taunt Abe into shooting “you”, and it wanted Mark to know exactly what it was doing.

As the others continued to talk and argue about what to do, as thunder shook the van and the rain continued to pour down, Mark stared at the road ahead and kept driving, even though he knew they would never make it to the house in time.

((End of Part 9. Thank you for reading! Google also forgot to account for the many, many squirrels, who are weathering out the storm in the living room and maybe a couple of the bedrooms. The King of the Squirrels was pretty sure no one would mind.

Here’s the link to Part 10: You Look Like Me.

Tagging: @silver-owl413​ @skyewardlight​ @withjust-a-bite​ @blackaquokat​ @catgirlwarrior​ @neverisadork​ @luna1350​ @oh-so-creepy​ @purpstraw​ @weirdfoxalley​ @95fangirl​ @lilalovesinternet-l​ @thepoolofthedead​ @a-bit-dapper​ @randomartdudette​ @geekymushroom​ @cactipresident​ @hotcocoachia​ @purple-anxiety-blog​ @shyinspiredartist​ @avispate​ ))

[darisu-chan]

The Fairest of Them All-Chapter 5

I’m back with one more update before my life consummes me again. Hope you like it. You can read chapters 1, 2, 3 and 4 on the links. Or read the new chapter or complete work in here too. 

Thank you so much for reading and hope you enjoy this new chapter!

See you!

Summary: A runaway princess, a cursed hero, a mad king. The three bring together the fairytale you never knew you needed. Can Princess Shirayuki recover her kingdom? Or will evil King Aizen triumph? And will Kuro ever be able to break his curse?

Chapter 5: Prophecy

Kuro woke up early the following day. He quickly changed into some clothes he had lying around, and started a fire in the chimney. Ishida and Orihime were the next ones to go downstairs. Ishida had already his coat and hat ready. His wife gave him a satchel, and waving them goodbye, he left. Orihime then thanked Kuro for his help, and started preparing breakfast. Kuro went out to cut them some more wood. When he came back, Chad had taken over cooking, while the lady of the house was nowhere to be found. He was glad for that, since Orihime’s food normally gave them stomachaches. On the table, Tatsuki was sharpening her knife, and Keigo was retelling the dream he had had to Mizuiro, who was busy reading a book. Meanwhile, Yoruichi was taking a nap on the window sill. Kuro chuckled at the sight. Those were his friends, alright.

“Everyone, gather round!” Orihime called from the top of the stairs.

Kuro turned around to find his friend walking downstairs, a smile on her face. Once she was down, she stood to the side, revealing the other person who was walking behind her. It was Shirayuki. She was dressed in a pink dress, which had probably been Orihime’s, but it had been fixed so it would fit her. And fit her, it did. The fabric clung to her every curve, as small as they were. Then, he looked at her face. It was clear Orihime had also cut her hair, making it even. It now reached her neck, framing her face perfectly. He noticed that there was a stray hair which rested between her eyes. It made them look bigger. He didn’t know if they were blue or violet, but they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

“You look amazing, princess!” Keigo exclaimed loudly. His voice brought Kuro back from his stupor.

“Thank you, Keigo.” She answered. “But please call me Shirayuki.”

“Shirayuki it is!”

“Close your mouth or flees will fly in.” Tatsuki whispered in his ear, a grin in her face.

“Shut up.” Kuro muttered.

“Good morning.” Mizuiro greeted Shirayuki. “Hope you had a good night.”

“It was excellent, thank you.” She replied, taking a seat next to Mizuiro, just in time for Chad to start serving them breakfast. They all sat down and started eating.

“It must have been!” Keigo exclaimed. “After Ishida’s and Orihime’s, Kuro has the best bed!”

Shirayuki turned to look at Kuro startled. Her cheeks began turning a pretty shade of pink. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you out of your room.”

Kuro just laughed. “It was no problem at all. But if you offer, you can sleep on the couch tonight, and I’ll get the bed.” He joked like he normally would with his friends. Then he stopped when he remembered who he was talking to.

Shirayuki laughed too. “It’s a nice offer, but I’m afraid I won’t take it. My back hurts a bit. But I’m sure the couch is nice enough for you.” Kuro snorted. He recalled what Orihime had told him the night before. Maybe they could really be friends.

“Your back hurts? Why didn’t you say so?” Orihime said, already fretting over the girl.

“It’s fine, Orihime. Really.” She told her, trying to calm her down. “It’s to be expected after sleeping in a dirty dungeon.”

“Dungeon?” Tatsuki said out loud. “They kept you in a dungeon?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Yes.” Shirayuki said, shying away a bit.

“How dare they?!” Keigo retorted, enraged. “Are you alright?! To think they’d keep the princess in a dungeon! What is Aizen thinking?”

“Keigo.” Kuro warned him. “Enough.” He then turned to Shirayuki, who was playing with her spoon. “We’ll get him, alright?” He said, putting his hand over hers. The girl looked at his hand and then at him. She nodded, giving him a small smile. Then he noticed the sly looks Tatsuki and Orihime were giving him. As inconspicuously as possible, he retracted his hand. “We have a long day of planning ahead, so eat well.” He told her, and he started digging into his food.

As they ate, Kuro observed the princess. Shirayuki truly was a gorgeous thing, with mesmerizing eyes, soft-looking skin and luscious lips. But her physical appearance wasn’t what intrigued him. It was something he had noticed in her the moment they had met. There was a fire inside of her. A light that blinded everyone around her. She had an indomitable spirit, and he liked that. She would need it if she wanted to defeat Aizen and recover her kingdom.

Aizen. The name brought back awful memories of when he had lost it all. His family. His kingdom. His strength. His will. Kuro believed he was no one if he didn’t possess the strength to protect those around him. With each passing day, he grew weaker and weaker. His body was almost completely covered in the cursed markings. He would soon be dead. The only thing that kept him going was the fact that he needed to defeat Aizen. Kuro couldn’t possibly die without taking the man down with him. He owed it to everyone in the room. He was just glad he had lived long enough to meet Shirayuki. Surely, when the time came, he would be able to leave things to her.

After breakfast ended, everyone scattered round to do their individuals chores. They would have a meeting later, when Ishida came back from town. In the meantime, Kuro decided to go fishing. The day before he hadn’t been able to hunt anything, and their resources would be scarce if he didn’t go out and look for food. Fishing was the better option since the lake was nearby. He took a satchel, his fishing rod, a bucket, hooks and chum. Kuro headed to the door, calling to Orihime.

“I’m going to the lake to fish.” He told her, door already opened.

“Why don’t you take Shirayuki?” She asked him.

Kuro groaned. Not again. “Look, stop that already. The things you’re imagining won’t happen. Ever. So drop it.”

Orihime looked offended. She crossed her arms before telling him off. “What I meant to say was that she’d be less bored with you. She’s a princess, so I don’t expect her to help me and Chad with cleaning and cooking. You know how Tatsuki is, she’d rather be alone to train. And Mizuiro’s been writing non-stop. You can either take her or leave her with Keigo.” She told him, pointing to the window. He looked out and found Keigo wildly telling a story to Shirayuki, who was smiling politely.

“Fine.” He said, grumbling. He knew better than to argue with her.

“Great.” Orihime smiled as if nothing had happened. “Take these apples for the trip.” She said, grabbing two red apples and giving them to him.

Kuro took them and nodded. Waving goodbye, he left the house and walked towards Shirayuki and Keigo. “Shirayuki.” He called her. “Let’s go.” The girl nodded and stood up.

“Where are we going?” She asked him.

“Fishing.” He replied.

“I want to go too!” Keigo added. “Just let me go for the spare rod!”

“No.” Kuro said faster than he had intended.

“What?! Why not?!” Keigo complained.

“I need you here to cut some more wood and to keep an eye on Mizuiro.”

Keigo winced. “Is he writing again?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

“Also, you’re in charge of Yoruichi until we get back.”

“What?! Why me?!” Keigo whined.

“Because you’re the only one who’s not doing anything.” Since Keigo couldn’t argue with that, Kuro just left, Shirayuki trailing behind him.

As they walked, Kuro couldn’t help but observe Shirayuki. She was a curious one, looking around, taking in the scenery. She smiled every time she caught sight of a bird, a squirrel or a bug. Her reactions made him smile. Even if she couldn’t see it because his hood hid his face.

“Where did Orihime get that dress?” He asked her suddenly.

“She told me she had it lying around. It’s from when she was younger.” Shirayuki answered. “She still had to fix some parts that were too big for me.” She added. It was understandable since Orihime was taller and curvier than Shirayuki was.

“She did a good job.” He said. It was true. The dress fit her like a glove.

“She was very fast.” Shirayuki said, awed. “I was impressed.”

“Orihime’s good at sewing.” His friend was terrible at cooking, but sewing was her specialty. “Ishida’s good at it too. They both have made our clothes.”

She inspected his hood and pants. “They did a great job. It’s really amazing how good they are at it. I can only embroider.”

“Embroider? Yeah, I guess that’s something fitting for a princess.” Kuro wondered out loud.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shirayuki asked him, while raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “It’s just something that I expected a princess to know.”

“That’s not all. I also know how to horse ride.” She replied. “And dance and sing.”

“All befitting a princess.” Kuro declared with a playful tone.

“And swordfight.” She added, grinning at his shock expression.

“You know how to fight with swords?” He asked her, clearly surprised.

Her grin widened. “My father taught me.” Then, she turned sad. “Wish I had been able to fight by his side when it mattered. But I only stayed on the sidelines, watching as he got killed.” Her tone was self-deprecating and Kuro hated it. He couldn’t stand it.

He stopped and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Look at me.” He demanded. “What happened to your father is not your fault.” He said, looking at her in the eye. “Aizen and his men use dark magic to become stronger. You couldn’t have possibly won against him.”

“But I could’ve tried.” She said stubbornly.

“No. It’s good you didn’t.” Kuro told her. “He would’ve killed you or maimed you on the spot. To defeat him, you need to be a hundred steps ahead. It takes cunning and organization. Not brute force. Believe me, I’ve tried.” He said, gesturing to his hood.

Shirayuki frowned. “Is this why you have yet to strike?”

“Yep.” He said, starting to walk again. “Ishida’s been thinking of multiple tactics that could work against Aizen. We’ve just been waiting for the ideal moment to attack. But I think that might be sooner than we thought.”

She nodded, accepting that as an answer.

They kept walking until the lake came into view. It was a wonderful sight, if he said so himself. The water sparkled under the sunlight, glimmering like a star. The breeze felt nice against the skin. And, overall, it was just peaceful. They sat down side by side, and Kuro taught her how to fish. He put the rod in the water and they waited for the first fish to take the bait.

“It’s really calm here.” Shirayuki suddenly said, as Kuro put the rod into the water again after putting the fish in the bucket.

“Not a lot of people come around here. They mostly live back in town.”

“So it’s just you seven?”

“Eight if you count Yoruichi.�� He said. “By the way, remind me to catch one more fish for her. She loves them.”

“I still can’t believe you have a talking cat.” Shirayuki muttered.

“She’s not a cat.” Kuro said. “She’s a human that got turned into a cat.”

“A curse?” She asked him, believing Aizen had done it.

“More like an accident.” He answered. “Her best friend is a powerful wizard. Sadly, he’s prone to a lot of mishaps. Yoruichi’s cat transformation was one of them.” He explained as he pulled one more fish out of the water. “As she told us, she wanted to see what it was like to be a cat for a day. He tried a spell he had just come up with, and she’s been a cat for a decade.”

Shirayuki snorted. “Magic. Spells. Curses. Talking cats.” She listed. “To think those things from fairytales are real.”

“Believe me, I was surprised too.” Kuro retorted. “If I hadn’t been cursed, I wouldn’t have believed in them.”

“So why is Yoruichi with you?” She asked. “If she’s been a cat for that long, surely she had a home.”

“Well, when I got cursed, I started searching for someone who could help me break the curse. After searching for months, I found Urahara. He told me that I had two options. I chose defeating Aizen, since it was something I wanted to do anyway. As I didn’t have any money to repay Urahara for his ‘services’, he told me to bring Yoruichi with me, in hopes her curse would break too.” He said.

“How would that happen?”

“Aizen has a magic mirror he stole from the king of my land. If we ask the mirror, maybe he can tell us how to make Yoruichi human again.”

Shirayuki contemplated all the information for a moment. “What was the other option to break the curse? Surely it would have been easier to do that, and then defeat Aizen.”

Kuro sighed. “It’s actually much more complicated. Apparently, the only one who can break my curse is the fairest of them all.” He said, a defeated tone in his voice. “I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean. That’s all Urahara could tell me.”

Shirayuki’s eyes suddenly lit up. “I know that story! My father’s friends used to tell it to me when I was young.”

“Do explain.” Kuro said.

“The fairest of them all is a maiden who has the purest of souls─”

“─And the truest of hearts.” He finished for her. “Yes. I’ve heard. Difficult to find. I even doubt she exists.”

“Not only that.” Shirayuki continued. “She’s meant to be as kind as she’s beautiful, and as beautiful as she’s kind. She can break any spell.”

“Name one person you think fits that description.” Kuro said ironically.

“Orihime.” Shirayuki said before thinking. “She’s kind and beautiful. I wouldn’t doubt her soul is pure too.”

“Yeah, well, I thought so too.” Kuro said, eyes looking misty.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. After Urahara told us about her, she tried to break the curse. She really did. But she couldn’t.” He explained. “For it to work, Urahara also told me this girl should love me above all else.”

“Ishida?” She wondered.

“Ishida.” He admitted.

Shirayuki looked at her hands, not knowing what to say. Kuro stayed silent for a few moments, and then continued. “She actually hadn’t realized she loved Ishida until she kissed me. They got married soon after.”

“I’m sorry.” She told him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine. I was relieved, actually. Even if it saddened me to still be cursed, I was happy that I didn’t have to reject her. I’ve always seen her just as a sister. I’m glad now the feeling’s mutual. But…”

“Deep down you wanted to feel loved?” Shirayuki finished for him.

Kuro’s eyes looked sad, and then surprised. “Yeah…” He trailed off.

“Maybe for it to work, you’d need to love her too.” She replied.

He nodded, and then caught the next fish. As he worked, he spoke again. “After that failed, I started making plans to come and defeat Aizen. My original idea was to come here by myself, but the rest weren’t having it. Ishida called me an idiot, and told me he’d come with me. That his family owned property in this kingdom, and that he was going to help me out. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. I think he felt guilty after having married Orihime.” Kuro explained. “Orihime wouldn’t let us come alone, so she tagged along. Tatsuki thought it’d be fun, and decided to come too.”

“And what about the rest?”

“Chad’s been by my side for years. He didn’t need to tell me anything. I knew he was coming whether I liked it or not. As for Keigo and Mizuiro, they wanted in too. After that, we all traveled all the way here and settled in this place.”

“I meant to ask… not everyone seems like a fighter, so why did they come?”

“Ishida is an excellent tactician. Back when we served the prince, he always came up with the best tactics to ensure our victory in fights. He’s also a damn good archer, and a proficient swordsman. Though I’m better.” Kuro proclaimed proudly. “He’s also knowledgeable in the history, geography and politics of your kingdom. He’s mother was originally from here. So, I really would’ve been a fool not to let him come with me.” Shiryauki nodded. “As for Orihime, even if we didn’t want her to accompany us in the beginning, she’s a healer. We’ve gotten hurt multiple times since we started our journey. She’s the only one who gets us back to normal.”

“I noticed that when she healed my scratches. They vanished overnight.” She said, showing him her arms, which had been covered in scratches yesterday.

“That’s Orihime for you.” He nodded. “And wherever Orihime goes, Tatsuki goes too.”

“She told me yesterday you introduced her to Tatsuki.”

“Yeah. Tatsuki’s my childhood friend. Ishida, Tatsuki and I used to play all the time as kids. When I saved Orihime, I immediately brought her to Tatsuki. I knew she would take care of her. They’ve been inseparable ever since.” He reminisced. “As for Tatsuki, we trained together in self-defense. She can disarm anyone. She’s also very stealthy.”

“She looks tough.”

“She is. She used to kick my ass when we were kids. She could still take me down if she wanted to.”

Shirayuki laughed. “I can imagine it.”

“She can’t take Chad, though. He’s as unmovable as a mountain.”

“You seem pretty close.”

“We are. Chad and I met some years ago, and we’ve had each other’s backs ever since. He was a guard like me.” Kuro said. “We’ve been through so many adventures that I can’t imagine him not being here.”

Shirayuki smiled. “And what about Keigo and Mizuiro?” She asked.

“Keigo’s not a fighter.” Kuro explained. “He’s just very good at hiding and breaking into buildings. Even if he’s loud and obnoxious all the time, he can pass by anyone. He’s been in a lot of recon missions before.”

“That’s impressive.” Shirayuki whistled. “He doesn’t give off that vibe.”

“Yeah. He only gets serious when he’s on a mission. He’s an idiot most of the time.”

The princess laughed laughed, and then grew serious. “What about Mizuiro? What did you mean by he’s writing again?”

Kuro frowned. “None of us are magical, except for Mizuiro. Sometimes, he gets premonitions of events, and he doesn’t rest until he’s written all of them down. He feels very sick right after.”

“Premonitions?”

“Yes. Predictions of future events. Most of the time we don’t know what they mean. All of us read them over and over, trying to figure them out, but we haven’t been successful yet. He even predicted I’d get cursed.” He said. “It’d really save us time if we could understand them.”

“Perhaps I can help you with that. I’m good with puzzles.” Shirayuki claimed.

“Thanks.” He answered. Then he took the apples out of his satchel. “Wanna eat? It will soon be noon.”

The princess gently took an apple from his hand. “They’re so red and big!” She exclaimed. “And juicy!” She added after she took a bite. “I haven’t had one like this in a long time.”

Kuro chuckled. “They sell them in the town nearby. Maybe we can go someday and buy more.” He said, and then bit his tongue. It was an impossibility, since it’d be dangerous for Shirayuki to stroll into town when Aizen wanted her dead.

“Id’ like that.” She said softly, cheeks red, and eyes sparkling like the water in front of them.

Kuro’s heart skipped a beat and he felt his face turn hot. He silently cursed himself. This girl couldn’t possibly have this effect on him.

“So none of you are from this kingdom.” Shirayuki muttered as they ate.

“No. We came from Karakura.” That was the neighboring kingdom.

“That means none of you know my real name.” She stated.

“Wait! Shirayuki’s not your real name?” Kuro asked, shocked.

She laughed. “It’s as much my real name as Kuro is yours.”

“So Orihime told you.” He grumbled.

“I would have found out by myself anyway.” She snorted, remembering how she made fun of him for having such a ridiculous name.

“So if Shirayuki’s not your real name, why does everybody call you that?” He asked her, clearly curious about it.

“It’s a nickname given to me by my mother. And then the whole kingdom started calling me that. It’s no wonder no one outside of here knows my real name.” Shirayuki explained.

“I’d like to know your real name.” Kuro said before he could stop himself.

She smiled mysteriously at him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Kuro looked down at the almost eaten apple in his hand. He couldn’t tell her. Not just yet. It was imperative no one outside of his friends knew.

“I’ll wait.” She said. “You have a deep, deep secret. I can see it. And I have no right to know. I have no method of stepping into the depths of your heart without getting it dirty. So I’ll wait. When you want to talk to me, you’ll tell me your name, and then I’ll tell you mine. But only until the time comes. I will wait until then.”

“Shirayuki…” Kuro whispered, awestruck. He had never met someone like her. Someone who would not meddle in his affairs and wait until he was ready. He felt as if his whole life, everyone around him had forced him to do things against his will. This girl was the only one who declared she’d wait for him.

He nodded and he watched her smile. He wasn’t yet tired of her smile.

After they deemed that they had caught sufficient fish, they packed their things and headed back. Shirayuki this time carried the satchel, as a way to help Kuro. He had told her it wasn’t necessary, but she wouldn’t listen to him. He soon found out she was really stubborn, even as stubborn as he was. He let her, just to get her to shut up, he told himself. In reality, he liked how pleased she looked and how she had smiled at him when he gave her the satchel. As they walked back, Shirayuki happily talked to him about many things. She commented about the weather, and then she told him about how she used to climb trees when she was a child. He listened to her intently. Kuro liked the sound of her voice. It was deeper than he had expected from a princess, but so reassuring.

“So how old are you?” She suddenly asked.

“Why do you want to know?” He retorted.

“When you speak, you always sound like an old man remembering his life. But you can’t possibly be over twenty.” She explained.

“Thanks for calling me old.” He said, faking a frown.

“You’re welcome.” She added, a smirk on her face.

Kuro shook his head. She was impossible. “I’m eighteen. I turn nineteen in the summer.”

Shirayuki gasped and then smiled at him. “I’m eighteen too! Who would’ve thought we were the same age when you look much older?” She exclaimed.

“That’s ‘cause you’re so short! Of course you look younger, like you’re thirteen!”

“Well, you’re too tall! Who’s this tall?” She added.

“A lot of people are!” He yelled.

That got them into an argument. They bickered the rest of the way, only stopping when they were already at the door. They turned to look at each other, gasping for breath, and their faces completely flushed. Then they started laughing as if they had finally laughed after many years. When Shirayuki turned to look at him, with her doe-like eyes and her blinding smile, Kuro thought his heart would stop completely. He stared at her as if he was just truly seeing her. Why did she have this effect in him? Nothing like this had ever happened to Kuro before. He just couldn’t understand it. As she went in the cottage, he stopped thinking about those things. It wouldn’t do for him to entertain such thoughts. Walking inside, he greeted his friends. They were all sitting, except for Ishida and Mizuiro, around the table, looking at a piece of parchment.

“What’s going on?” He asked, taking a seat next to Chad. Shirayuki sat down too, next to him.

“Mizuiro just finished writing another prophecy.” Keigo explained.

“We’re trying to figure it out.” Tatsuki added.

“Let me see.” Kuro said, and started reading the words out loud. “The eclipse will happen. The eclipse is near. When the two forces join together, their light will vanquish all evil. But beware of he whose madness reigns. He will not rest until he destroys the world. Beware of the red, the red of blood. No matter how juicy it looks.” He stopped reading. He stole a glance to Shirayuki, who seemed as perplexed as he felt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out.” Tatsuki muttered sarcastically.

“We think we figured out one part.” Orihime said, ignoring her friend. “The part where it says ‘beware of he whose madness reigns’ must refer to Aizen.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“But what of the other part?” Kuro asked. “It says two forces will vanquish all evil, meaning they will defeat Aizen. But who are these forces?”

“It also talks about an eclipse.” Shirayuki said. “And the red of blood… blood… I got it!” She exclaimed.

“What? What is it?” Kuro asked excitedly.

“A blood moon!” She answered. “A total lunar eclipse!”

They all gasped and started talking a mile a minute.

“Of course!” Kuro exclaimed.

“It makes sense!” Keigo nodded.

“The two forces must mean the sun and the moon! They need to be aligned with Earth!” Orihime said happily.

“But when will there be a lunar eclipse?” Tatsuki grumbled. “They don’t always happen.”

Yoruichi took that moment to jump on the table. “In three months’ time, we will have a lunar eclipse.”

“How do you know?” Chad asked.

“I’m a supernatural cat. I know these things.” Offering only that as an exclamation, she leapt off the table and walked to the door, just in time for Ishida to burst in.

“Everyone!” He yelled. “I’ve got news!”

“What is it, dear?” Orihime asked him, standing up to greet him.

“In exactly three months, Aizen will have a ball. All of his subjects are invited.” He explained.

They all looked at each other and nodded. It could not just be a coincidence.

That night it was decided. In three months they would all attend the ball, and enact their plan. It had to go well. After all, the blood moon was on their side.

[goldenkamuyhunting]

Golden Kamuy re-reading: CHAP 3: ‘Trap’

Trasposed in: Episode 2 ‘Nopperabō’

Currently the story is at: Chap 170: ‘The female convict at Akou prison’ (scanlated), Chap 171: ‘The punishment of the Karafuto Ainu’ (raw)

What follows are my ramblings over Golden Kamuy chapter by chapter, comprehensive of summary of the chapter, comparisons with the anime transposition, spoilers, theories, discussions about how a page or a panel was drawn and whatever else caught my attention.

As Golden Kamuy hasn’t ended yet I might miss some details that will be relevant in the future or make a wrong theory (or change my mind in the future on that theory). Consider yourself warned.

Also occasionally you’ll find ramblings for the covers or the extra contained in the volumes.

CHAP 3: ‘Trap’

The cover here shows Asirpa’s equipment and this is possibly even more useful as it introduces us to the Ainu equipment as well as to a bunch of Ainu words.

The story in chap 3 starts with Asirpa fundamentally teaching Sugimoto how to hunt squirrels… and we are introduced immediately to the difference between Sugimoto and Asirpa. Sugimoto is sort of against hunting squirrels because he likes them, as in he finds them cute and wouldn’t want to kill and eat them… like most of us really. Asirpa confirms she likes them as well… but as food.

Asirpa has no empathy for the squirrels, they’re no cute animals for her, just food… while Sugimoto, the guy who could murder people so brutally and skin their corpses is reluctant to harm a squirrel because to him a squirrel is not food, it’s a cute animal.

I love this sort of things that remark their cultural differences but also how things we take for granted are often a matter of culture. Many of us don’t eat squirrels. It gets even harder to think at them as food.

Asirpa plans to catch the squirrels also to pay for travel expenses as they can sell their pelt.

We might think this bit doesn’t mean much but just give us some info about Ainu hunting habits but it’ll turn out later on that learning about these traps had a meaning… which shows Noda’s ability as a storyteller. Everything in Golden Kamuy has a purpose, it isn’t just exposition or harmless chatting.

Back to Sugimoto and Asirpa, Sugimoto thinks that the escape prisoners are still searching for the gold and therefore wouldn’t have escaped to mainland Japan. His assumption is actually off. So far we know 17 escape convicts and very few of them were searching for the gold (some will be roped in the search later but weren’t interested in the beginning), the rest just didn’t care and remained in Hokkaido because that was their home… not mentioning that one of them even left Hokkaido (and we’re still missing the whereabouts of 7 escape convicts).

Asirpa points out Hokkaido is big but Sugimoto claims the convicts can’t really live in the wild so they would go to the biggest Hokkaido towns in order not to stand out. In this too Sugimoto is off as we’ll see that some escape convicts could have easily managed living in the wild (Nihei) or go back to their own small village (Yōichirō the manslayer) or to a minor city Sugimoto didn’t think about (the yakuza boss).

Anyway, long story short, if it had been left up to solely Sugimoto’s plan they would have never managed to get all those skins…

LOL, I love Sugimoto but he’s not exactly great at making plans…

Anyway Sugimoto thinks they can start with the closest big city near to them, Otaru.

Again the anime follows the story more or less faithfully so far but instead than this chapter’s title, it’ll go for chapter 4’s title ‘Nopperabō’. Oh well, since episode 2 covers chap 4 as well it’s not a big deal.

Back to the story Asirpa asks Sugimoto how he thinks they’ll manage to find out people with those tattoos…

…it’ll turn out Sugimoto’s plan is to go ask around if people saw guys with weird tattoos.

Sugimoto starts his search at a men’s bath. While this lead him to nothing there are two good reasons for this. The first is a Watsonian reason, since the men’s baths were baths at which many attended (few had a personal bath at home), it was logical enough that, if one had a weird tattoo, he would be forced to expose it when visiting it.

The second is a Doylist reason.

Noda wanted a good reason to show us how scarred Sugimoto’s body is.

He didn’t want to randomly show it, he wanted a reason that could fit the plot to show it and in this he shows he’s a good storyteller. Anyway, as the man in the bath said, the scarring on Sugimoto’s boy is really impressive enough to make amazing how Sugimoto is still alive.

Back to the story the man in the bath, understanding Sugimoto is a soldier, thanks him for fighting and allowing them to get back southern Karafuto, which ensured financial prosperity in Otaru.

Sugimoto comments the merchants are actually the only ones who got rich…and then thinks he’ll get rich as well, no matter what he’ll have to do. It’s noteworthy how in those first chapters Sugimoto is obsessed with this idea… which he’ll fundamentally drop more and more as the story progress to the point the money is more like an afterthought for him.

The anime cut this little bit about the merchants getting rich and Sugimoto wanting to get rich as well. Well, since the anime planned to be only 12 episodes long I can understand they didn’t want to bother with this part of Sugimoto’s character development as they wouldn’t manage to reach the point where Sugimoto would OBVIOUSLY prioritize Asirpa to the money. It’s still a pity though.

Asirpa goes asking to the women working in the brothels if they saw a customer with a weird tattoo.

In that moment a man who’s probably the owner of some brothel picks her up by the back of her clothes, demanding to know what she’s doing there. He then comments Asirpa should be 12 or 13 since she doesn’t have a tattoo around her mouth yet and then comments since nobody would want a girl with a tattoo around her mouth he should sell her off now.

During this Asirpa remains calm and apparently emotionless but it’s sort of disgusting how that man is handling her, as if she was something he could take possession and own at will (not mentioning the comment about the tattoo is offensive to Ainu culture) but then she catches her chance to hit the man in the eye with the back of her knife so that he’s forced to drop her while the other women cheer for her.

Personally I admire how she remained calm as a man much bigger than her handled her in such way and, at the same time, managed to free herself without stabbing the man with the knife. While remaining careful not to hurt the man too badly, she still managed not to let the man think he could own her.

Asirpa is an AMAZING girl.

Sadly we don’t really get to see more of her putting that guy to his place because Sugimoto joins and beat the guy up, forcing him to tell them if he’d seen people with a weird tattoo. Well, I know I should be glad Sugimoto protected her and that guy could be a hard opponent for Asirpa considering how big she was and how determined not to hurt him too badly she was… but still I would have liked to see her handle him, if possible. But I guess even if she had been able to hold her ground, she probably couldn’t have managed to force him to talk.

In fact the guy has relevant info as he confesses someone else also came asking him if he saw people with weird tattoos. Sugimoto grins as he claims someone had their same idea... knowing this might mean that someone might be an escape convict.

Now…while the anime follows the plot of the manga somehow the whole ‘fighting’ scene came out as less cool… which is bad because in an anime action scenes should come out better than in manga but well, maybe in the dvd version they’ll fix it.

Apparently Sugimoto and Asirpa keeps on asking around but now someone is following them.

Sugimoto and Asirpa know about it. It’s sort of fun though how Sugimoto is the one who asks Asirpa how many are following them and she’s the one to answer it’s just one… but well, I guess that since Sugimoto is a soldier while Asirpa is a hunter it makes more sense she would be capable to figure out how many are following them better than Sugimoto… sort of like Tanigaki, despite the broken leg, is good at keeping his distance from Ogata and Nikaido. Also being so young it’s less suspicious if she turns to check.

The one following them is troubled by how far Sugimoto and Asirpa are walking. He admits he planned to kill them in their sleep, but since they keep on walking he plans to kill them there. As he says so he pulls out a gun, walks after them and… without realizing ends up in a trap that’s a much bigger version of the one Asirpa used for squirrels.

See why we needed to see how squirrels traps worked? Because Sugimoto and Asirpa were going to use them to catch their followers.

As if this wasn’t clever enough the guy’s clothes gets trapped in a bark ‘by coincidence’, ending up on exposing his tattooed skin so as to spare us from further exposition on how Sugimoto and Asirpa will have to check if he’s a tattooed prisoner.

It’s meaningful how, while he’s caught by the trap, we’re shown also a squirrel who was caught by one of Asirpa’s trap, just to refresh our mind on how the trap which had caught this man is the same that had caught the squirrel... only bigger.

Now... compared to all the other prisoners this guy as of now is really solely a plot device that won’t even get a name and will solely be called ‘prisoner number one’. Even Shiraishi, when seeing his skin, will label him as a nobody. I’ve no idea if in the future they’ll reveal something about him that’ll change his status from plot device to something more. For now... he just exists to set into motion some parts of the plot. The chapter ends her. The volume adds a picture of Hokkaido and southern Karafuto, in a quiet hint that’s in those place our story will develop.

In regard to the anime, it changed things a little here, as, instead than having his clothes traped in a back this causing him to expose his skin, it’s prisoner number one who ends up exposing his tattoo with his actions… which doesn’t really make sense. It was okay when he was trying to free himself from the rope that was strangling him but that all of sudden he would pull open his shirt instead than focusing on the rope around his neck… well, that’s weird.

[kevins-meth-bag]

I finished the script, now to put this in a play

In early spring, three kids walk out of their pig shack and began picking corn out from their family farm. One of the three kids,willie hopped into the corn bushes to play hide in seek with his two siblings. The two other children though did not know willie was playing hide n' go seek so willie waited and waited hours, days, weeks, soon enough time started to lose meaning.Willie wandered through the corn bushes,and came across a very very very old man with giant hands named cameron. The boy since then has lost sanity ,he didn't know right from wrong, he hadn't had meat in such a long time, this is his time to attack, to feed, to grow, to destroy .Willie launched at cameron and bit into his flesh,the man screeched like goat, the man wasn't cameron cuntbell the man was a man named flof who has curly red hair who had noodle arms like no other. Flof and Willie died because 5 minutes before this a plane was flying in the sky not a huge one just a toy plane but it still was able to kill them because it smashed into some cattle, those cattle ran into a bolder, that bolder ran into a cactus farm and the cactus farm fling a cactus onto a hay bale that was stacked to high and made it fall onto them. Flof was dead and so was willie but there was a way to bring them back,their dream selves were still alive. But for them to come alive they would need to possess a body and and sacifice 100 children before their corpse rots and becomes unusable, if that were to happen the people they where possess will revert back to their original state of being and time would reset for everything except for the bodies, also the bodies can't be seen, felt, heard smelled, or any kind of sense to find them. A person from the heavens was sent to sacrifice the children with a secret cult-aid,as flof was a very important piece of the puzzle of life with his noodle arms. But for the fact that he was already dead the world, no the universe was falling apart and they had not time to waste, even if time were to reset it didn't matter because the universe is bigger than time. The angel was named fluf and looked very close to flof but with all white features,the angel went down near the dead body of a tree. The tree slowly healed like though a magic force feeding it energy, but as that was happening the angel was slowing losing its power as if something was eating it, the tree was not a tree but a demon was was cursed into that spot waiting for a force with enough energy and power to be able to free him, he was feeding of squirrels and birds before and no human would ever go near it, but now was the demons chance with its little power it stole and stole the angels power until the angels got drier and smaller, than the angles turned into grass, for angels can't die but be trapped to never escape, unless it turned to the dark side but if it were to do that it would also become such a demon and then demon would have won no matter what, The demon had a new chance, a new chance a revenge that his, he would go around and kill all the children he can a steal their souls because only children souls with their purity can give the demon enough power to escape this dieing universe and go into his own new universe with hookers and blackjack.

Reed:Oh boy i really miss willie

Timmy:It has been 5 years reed,get over it

Reed sighed and walked off into the corn bushes to get some corn for dinner.

Jim the pig: Oink Oink Oink

Reed: what is it boy

Jim starts running in circles

Timmy: Damn pigs I think it's time to put him down

Reed smacks Timmy in the back of the head

Timmy: What?! You know it’s true

Reed: Shut up you idiot and check your phone to see what's wrong

Timmy looks it up

Reed: So what does it say

Timmy: I can’t get any service

Reed: How? Where right next to it

Timmy: Maybe it's busted down or maybe my phone is just broken, it's a old phone

Reed: I’ll check the tv, their a chance, even if small, that it can explain what's going on

Reed goes to the tv and turns it on

Reed: That's weird

Timmy: What?

Reed: It's not working

Timmy: Damn it, that's just bad luck

Reed goes to the door to ask the neighbors, 1 miles from here if their internet works

Reed:The doors stuck

Timmy: Pull the door

Reed: I am

Timmy: Let me try then

Reed back away as Timmy tries to open the door, what the heck

A voice is sounded as the door got knocked on

???:Knock knock,children

It was the tree demon who came to life,the kids felt chills go down their spine as they were paralyzed in place.The tree demon hummed a little tune before opening the door

TD:“Ready or not here i come~”

The kids shook in fear as a sudden plant poked out of the ground

TD:“Ugh not again stupid angel”

The demon stomped up to the plant and kicked it over

TD: Just stop already angel, you already lost

Reed:Timmy quickly while he's looking away get the axe from the closest

Timmy: …

Reed: TIMMY QUICKLY!!!!

Timmy drops to the floor

The demon smirks

TD: come on, an axe won’t work on me, but it’s not like you're gonna get a chance to even try now

A axe hit the demon in the back and the demon falls over

TD: What?! How?!

Behind the demon was a random man with a slightly glowing axe, handle made out of mahogany, and the sharp part made out of steel with a hit of the angel plant from early

Random Guy: Brothers it’s so good to see you guys again

Reed: Do I know you?

Random Guy: It's me willie

Reed: How, we thought you died 5 years ago

Willie: No i was surviving on corn until recently were I tried to eat a old man, I must have gone a little crazy

Reed: But you don’t look at all like you used to

Willie: I had to possess some ones body to try to come back to life

Reed: Where did you go Willie

Willie: What do you mean? I was playing hide n’ go seek

Reed: By yourself

Willie: No with you guys

Reed: You have to tell use first, you can’t just hide without our knowledge

Willie: Now I feel like an idiot

The demon grabs Timmy by the leg and drains him from all of his lifeforce

TD: HaHaHaha…

The demon stops, it is dead, the demon had too much energy for his body to contain, not even the “immortal” demon can handle it

Willie grieves his losses and then walks out the door

While Willie is walking for the closest place with the most kids he thinks to himself

Willie: It said if I don’t kill them time will reset but i’ll die, but if I come back to life will time reset or will all these death be on my guilt. Why would I want to live after that, this guilt, this pain that i’ll go though I don’t think anything is worth that. Maybe I should stop.

Then a thought goes in his mind

Willie: But if time resets then the demon will be alive and that wound I give him won't weakened him and he might adapt to the power.

No matter the choice it is bad

I gotta kill the children

After that days have passed

Willie has been been pretending to be a clown and going to birthday parties, a lot harder job now that clowns are scary

But at night he set up a little club and put fliers everywhere so that they could join his club or I should say clubs since he set up all different kinds of clubs. Sadly people learn stuff from the internet nowadays so it's not that easy to kill children. And now pesky people are looking for him, trying to find the murder of all traits.

Over the next few days he's given up on trying to hide his murdering, even time he sees a lot of kids he murders them. Which has been working in his favor because the people there don’t know the difference of a homicide and a suicide.Time and time again until he reached the big 100. He reverted back to his body. He went back home and watched tv where the guy who he possessed was sentenced death right away.

Willie: this was not an easy task to do

Reed was not their nor was Jim

Willie was by himself

He lost himself while he wa in the corn field.

And life will never be the same

End

[multiplefandomfics]

Grimes sisters chapter 2

Hey guys sorry it took me so long to upload chapter two but to apologize properly chapter 3 is following suit.

Warnings: character death, angst, fighting

Fabienne POV

After I made myself at home in my cell to relax a little, stood suddenly Shane in my door. He had taught me a lot over the past few weeks. Everyone thought he was a hothead maybe that even was true but he only tried to save the group from being killed. “You wanna go have a little look around?” he asked. I nodded, sat up and put my shoes back on. On my way out I grabbed my knife, which I had put aside when I went to lay down. Outside we venture around the perimeter and ended up at a high watchtower. This was perfect to post guards on. The only problem were the biters inside the fence that surrounded the tower. But of course Shane already had a plan. Somehow he was able to pick the lock of the gate. “Stay behind me.” he whispered. Even if I was able to handle my knife I wasn´t as good as my sister or the others in the group. We killed them all and even I killed my fair share. Always aim for the brain, right? Even if that sometimes proofs to be very difficult especially in panic situations. As we stepped from the staircase onto the platform, we noticed the perfect view over the whole prison yard. I felt relieved about our new discovery because I still didn´t trust the peace. We decided to tell the others the good news and began our journey back down stairs. We ambled back to the prison when my brother stormed over to us with a facial expression that said “I wanna kill you badly”.

“Shane goddamnit what were you thinking? You went in there alone?? Why on earth would you do that and to all other things endanger my little sister at the same time??!!” Ricks voice was shaking in anger and you could tell it took everything he had not to pounce at Shane.

“Rick chill out, man. We just had a look at it. Nothing we couldn´t handle on our own. And we made it out alive. Didn´t we? I would never purposefully endanger Fabi. You of all people should know that.” Shane made calming gestures with his hands. I was happy and smiled a little to myself that he had said “nothing WE couldn´t handle” maybe he finally took me as a woman not the child my brother always makes me out to be. But then I get pulled back to the situation at hand and snap at my bother: “I am a grown ass woman, Rick. I can handle myself!” Of course I got why he was angry. He just wanted to keep me safe but if that wasn´t annoying as fuck sometimes. I mean the possibility that I was alone at some point was omnipresent so I should be able to defend myself if necessary. Ricks eyes turned to slits and he growled lowly “You stay close to me, understood?” We had had a lot of fights in the past before and it had us on edge all the time but enough was enough. I stormed past him up through the gate and inside to my cell. Why did he always have to play Mother Theresa?? Sometimes it was hard for me to understand why he made such a fuss about everything.

Ricks POV

When Daryl came to me and told me that he´d seen Fabienne and Shane enter the Watchtower that we still hadn´t cleared of walkers yet I was alittle taken aback cause I never thought they would go behind my back like that. Turned out I had been mistaken. I felt the anger cook up inside me and stormed down there to get to them. What did Shane think sometimes? He could be such an idiot! Sometimes he brought people in jeopardy without any kind of reason behind it. But that time he went to far. It was my sister we were talking about here! No way was I going to let him get through with this. He´d have to answer for that one.

When I saw them heading my way looking happy I snapped. I went directly to them. My hands balled into fists. I wanted to punch Shane badly but in the end I decided against it. I was the leader of this group I couldn´t look irrational. As I started reasoning with Shane I noticed there was no real point in doing so. He didn´t see what he had done wrong and my sister was fully backing him up. It was a lost cause. As my sister storms angrily away I repeat myself: “You put her in danger damn it!” “Rick I don´t want any trouble.” Shane looked tired from fighting and just walked past me without a second glance. I made my way back inside to talk the others through my plan for the day tomorrow. “Tomorrow we are going to start our expedition through the rest of the prison. I am going to take Daryl and Shane with me” I stated.

“Fabi and I cleared the Watchtower outside. You have a great view from up there. Can keep everything under control. We can position guards in shifts on the tower” Shane threw in.

I could see Fabienne watch us from upstairs. She still seemed upset about earlier.  

Glenn and Maggie claimed the first shift after a little dinner. We didn´t have much left hence the venturing deeper inside. That night we had canned carrots and peas with ravioli in tomato sauce.

I looked over at Lori, she looked more than exhausted. I was sure the baby wouldn´t be too long. Softly I stroked her cheek and smiled at her. She needed all the reassurance that everything would  be fine that she could get. Alex stepped in behind be “Did you fight?” of course I knew that she meant Fabi and me. “Not really. But Shane put her in danger today. I was just so angry at him and a little at her as well. She must have sensed that. I know she´s an adult but I just can´t not worry about her.” I replied. “Maybe I should have a talk with her later.” Alex agreed with me. “Have a good night you two. See ya tomorrow.” She hugged me good night and smiled at Lori who had watched our conversation with sleepy eyes and then she went back to her own cell.

Alex POV

Of course I had also noticed the differences my brother and Fabienne had had over the past months. But Rick was kinda right. She had to be careful especially when it came to Shane. He was a nice guy. Protective of our group. Sometimes maybe a little too much. I entered our cell. “Hey can we talk?” I asked her. She was laying on her bed staring at the ceiling. I didn´t get a response from her. “Listen, don´t you think Rick is a little bit right with how he behaved? Maybe he was a bit much today but Shane is a complicated guy and Rick just wants the best for us.”  I said understandingly but still with a bit of an edge to my voice. “Honestly Alex, I don´t really wanna talk about this. It´s my life, my decision to make. As much as you want to, you have no real say in this matter. Shane can be hotheaded but he is a good guy. He always puts everyone before himself. Can you still count how often he helped this group in a really bad situation to stay alive? Why is Rick always hanging on my ass and not on yours? It´s annoying.” She claimed.

Of course she had a point as well but it was our brothers best friend and colleague. “Don´t blame him for wanting to keep you safe okay?” I almost begged her.

“I´m goin´out again.” said Daryl who had just poked his head in. “Jus´so ya know if Rick should be searchin´for me” he added. Yeah maybe Daryl was sometimes a little strange but he was a good guy. He always seemed so tough and hard but inside he was a big softy. At the beginning he came off as a loner but honestly he was equally as good a team player if he had to be. I had liked him from the beginning all the way back at the camp outside of Atlanta when we still thought Rick to be dead. Even then he always seemed to be the most stable one when his racist and misogynist of a brother wasn´t around. Since Merle was gone he was so much more calm and started to show the good personality treats he really possessed. I only nodded and smiled at him in acknowledgment and he pulled his head out of the door. He was probably off to find some more squirrels to eat. `Maybe he´ll bring some deer` I thought to myself. We probably wouldn´t have survived that long without him I thought as I slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next morning came and I felt just amazing. I hadn´t slept that good in ages. Nothing ached and I felt relaxed the first time in a long time. A bed was so much better than the floor or the backseat of a car. Outside on the hallway the sounds of the others getting ready to launch.

At first I really wanted to go with them but in the end I decided against it to keep an eye on my sister she looked really done with everything and maybe she wanted to talk at some point.

I took a look from the gallery down and saw them already packed up. “Be careful.” Lori said to Rick lovingly and gave him a kiss. Rick nodded and got down on one knee to talk to Carl. “And you take care of your mom alright?” Carl agreed eager to please his dad and make him proud. If he knew how proud Rick already was at his soon to be eldest. After that I could see them walking through a door and disappearing behind the next corner. I hoped they´d find something edible my stomach grumbled constantly.

“G´ mornin´” came it from behind me. Fabienne pushed herself past me and then outside. Maybe she already wanted to plan where to plant the veggies when we finally got the seeds.

Shane POV

At first we had a lucky streak we hadn’t encountered a lot of walkers. The hallways were almost endless. We walked around without much of a plan. Sometimes we saw a sign to another cellblock or a bureau. “Almost like ol’ days right Rick?” I tried to loosen the mood a little and Rick smiled at me. We broke through a door that looked promising. Unfortunately we only found some old guard uniforms. As we ventured further we came into a bigger room and even found a first aid kit. Daryl immediately took it down and raided the contents. While we were looking through some boxes I started to hear some biters heading our way. I looked around the corner and saw about a dozen undead coming toward us. “Shit. We have a slight problem.” I shouted towards the others. “we´re trapped.” I cursed. The hall was the only way out. “I got an idea. let´s turn the shelf sideways to block their way then we can stab one after the other.” said, done. It was a good idea until the shelf slipped under the pressure of the pushing biters and fell directly on my foot. “hmpf” I bit my lip to keep from screaming. Daryl and Rick killed the last of the bastards while I tried to break my foot free. After the rubble was over Rick asked me if I could walk. I nodded because we would definitely not end the tour before we even found something, I was tough. I could take it. Hershel could have a look after we got back. We grabbed our bags and kept going. “Hey guys, that sign says cafeteria. Let´s head that way.” Daryl noticed. Maybe we would find some food and more meds. “Hey look at that!” Daryl exclaimed. He had already walked ahead of us Rick stayed behind with me because of my foot. We found canned food, dried fruits and vegetables, water bottles, gas stoves and some more. “I am sure we can live on that for a few month.” I said. Looked like our little trip really was worth it in the end. “We take what we can carry and come back later for the rest.” Rick marks on. My foot got worse on our way. “Stop I need a break.” I said with a pained expression on my face. “No way we have to keep goin´” Daryl snapped. “Let me stay here. I come after you when I’m rested.”  to me that sounded like the only alternative we had. After a minute of convincing on my side they agreed and I sat down inside a room and closed the door while they went back to our cellblock.

Fabienne POV

I had another careful look around outside. If the others really found some food with seeds it was good if I already had a plan where to plant them. Looked like there was finally a silver lining.

I sat down in the grass to enjoy the sun a little. The sun was already strong despite the wind blowing. Suddenly I heard Alex calling out to me from the distance. She sounded distressed so I got up and ran towards her. “Whats wrong?” I asked her out of breath from running. “Did you see Hershel?” she asked in full panic mode. “No I haven’t” I respond “Why?” “Lori is having the baby right the fuck now. We have no time to find him. Come on let’s go!” As we arrived inside Lori was laying on some blankets on the floor while Carl was standing a few feet away. Maggie was already by her side and together we took of Lori’s pants. “Calm breaths” we tried to help her relax. Maggie did everything she had gathered from her fathers lessons but soon we noticed that something wasn’t right. She was bleeding profusely. “This can’t be normal” “where the hell is my dad?” We had to keep calm. We could do it. But somehow the baby seemed to be stuck. Because of the blood loss Lori was turning white as a sheet. “You have to do a C-section.” Lori musters with her last powers. No one of us had ever done something like this before. I mean, cut in a walker to keep them from killing you, alright but cutting into a living human being that you love and care for without anesthesia? No thank you. But we knew we had to. “You see the scar on my belly? You have to just cut there and get the baby out. Save him or her at least.” she stuttered under tears. Carl jumped over to his mom and cried and we were also tearing up. “It’s fine” she mumbled. “I love you Carl. Take care of your dad and your new sibling alright? I am so proud of you! Always listen to your heart. You’re stronger than you think.” Slowly her eyes fell close. “I love you too mama.” Carl replied sobbing. Maggie takes the knife with shaking hands and cuts the old scar open to take the baby out. At first we were all worried cause it was not breathing, but suddenly a cry echoed loudly from the cell walls. Relive flooded us. Maggie cut the cord “It’s a girl” she adds. We wrapped her in a blanket. We couldn’t have let Lori lay like that she would have turned. “I’ll do it. She’s my mom.” Carl said sure. “You don’t have to do that.” Alex looked pitiful at him as did we all. But Carl hat already drawn his gun. We turned around and left the cell. Not a second later we heard the shot ringing. It was over.

[bligh-lynch]

Ask Now the Beasts

December 11th, 2007, Dog’s Creek, Tempest, West Virginia Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court?  _________  William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act II, Scene i            The first time Bligh realized that he was more than what he thought he was, he was alone – he did not have his best friend Drew with him, his loyal retainer, or his dog, Duke, his steadfast squire.

           Duke was due to be taken to Dr. Barnes' vet clinic to re-up his rabies shots, but his grandfather – the whole town called him Pappy, even men and women older than he was – had been adamant that Bligh hunt for a squirrel to be tomorrow's dinner, since he himself had hunted dinner to be served that day. So Drew, in the pattern of almost-marriage they possessed years before either of them were ever brave enough to admit that was precisely what it was, had volunteered to take the dog to the vet himself, because Dr. Barnes' daughter, Betsy, was his girlfriend. It was just as well: even though Dr. Barnes liked Bligh, and had even helped his mama birth him because nobody else back then could help – born in a vet's office like a damn dog, how bout that – Betsy never took a shine to Bligh…too jealous, he guessed, how close he and Drew were.            So Bligh was alone. No cell phone, that was another rule of Pappy's – hunting takes concentration, no intrusions by the frivolity of text messaging allowed.            Pappy expected him to grow up and be a man and really at all of sixteen Bligh was a man already, the itchy clouds of black beard starting to form on his face, conscious imitation of his grandfather – thick blue flannel, squirrel gun, poke over his shoulder. He was the image of coalfield youth – the ruggedness inherited so soon, so quick, being young was too good to last here in the mountains, a small town nobody had ever heard of where weird things went on in whispers and legends.            It was December, the first week, when the spooky pumpkins of Halloween and Samhain were all carved up and eaten, spiced and baked, for Thanksgiving pies – now all that was left was the desolation, the reckoning, the trees barren and naked, branches clawing at the overcast skies in supplicating prayers never to be heard. The smell of distant woodsmoke admixed with the clean, fresh wintry mountain air.            It was a quick walk down the little hill that ridged up neatly and then leveled off where his house was – if Bligh had gone the opposite way he'd end up going up the mountain next to his house, where proud turkeybirds used to strut and a rare kind of herb that was useful for slaughtering hogs when Bligh had been a youngster grew…but now it was a dangerous place, a family of mountain lions lived up there even though the State of West Virginia was absolutely certain no mountain lions lived in West Virginia at all. But that was a lie – Bligh had to kill one, the very first animal he'd ever shot, many years ago, because Drew and he had blundered their way into its home.            His grandfather said there weren't no mountain lions up yonder, but great big cattywampus – whatever they were, he didn't elaborate and Bligh and Andrew were too scared to ask why he'd said that…they hadn't been up there since. He had warned them with something Bligh had kept close to his heart – Ain't tellin what ye find in em woods, and that was the final say, the sagest advice you could either give or receive in their town.            So Bligh went the other way – his grandfather was strict about him keeping up his shooting skills and being self-sufficient enough to catch and kill your own food. Bligh would get the meat, and his grandfather would cook it in the big electric crockpot they had just inherited from Cousin Bobby, Pappy's nephew, in Huntington…God rest his soul, his heart finally did what the diabetes couldn't and killed the poor man dead.            It was very cold and Bligh was hungry and frustrated – he missed Duke and he missed Drew, he had been hunting alone only a few times in his life and now he felt awkward, like he didn't know what he was doing…maybe that was Pappy's plan all along, to show him how to do things by himself, and be self-reliant.  At the thought, Bligh rolled his eyes – Pappy was convinced of the rightness of his positions and it was really hard to argue with him because, incidentally, he was almost never wrong…but goddam, couldn't they just order a pizza?            But he was like his grandfather in many ways and each year it became more and more obvious he was his grandfather's grandson, an undeniable Lynch. Looking at Pappy was like looking a much-aged Bligh, and looking at Bligh was like peering into the past of who Gustavus – his real name – had been, all those decades ago…            …it should have warmed his heart, but the air was too cold for that, and his irritation too fresh.            At lease Bligh could like the cold, because he was used to this time of year being right airish and he liked it when the breeze blew his too-long hair gently into his ears under his new Baltimore Ravens cap he had bought at the Greenbrier Valley Mall on Black Friday.            The chill on the air is lovely if you expect it, if you know where you are.            Bligh had been keeping time with his steps to stalk squirrels as he had been taught to. He could faintly make out some in the distance by a big walnut tree on the closer side of Dog's Creek his movements were slow, quiet, pausing for some minutes when he saw the squirrels tense and look his way. He knew this area well, but if he got lost, he could tell where he was by the owl, louder and louder as the town got further behind him, calling from the forest past the border of the languid flow of the creekwater.            The creek's flow was lazy and slow these days, soon enough it would cease altogether, choked by fine splinters of ice, and set apart on its banks by ermine shawls of the first snows. December even in its morbidity was not without its beauty.            On the breeze you can hear him, the barred owl, lonely misshapen creature of feathers, forced to call out: Who cooks for you? Who cooks for all! It is not a full question that seeks to know, it is a taunt, a demand, a conversation that begins and ends by offending and abusing who it is asked to. He would love to say something else, his brothers in the wood with their long feathery eyebrows merely ask Who? Who? and you can gather from this something perennial, the philosopher's troubling wrestle with how life is drawn into existence in the universe – he has relatives that utter no human-like words at all, but mere tremolo, long and low and mournful, not as sad as the wolf's howl or the fox's wail beneath them as they are perched on their branches but a little more striking: on the breeze, a plea to listen.            These owls are the wisest creatures in the forest because they have things to say. Listen to them: they will ask you things because the chill on the air is never, ever sufficient to itself, it must have accompaniment, a fiddler at your banquet table as the food is served and the moonshine poured.            A meal fit for a king.            The forest is a monarchy, after all, it is an empire that stretches and reigns forever, a world without end. The people here when Bligh's grandfather was very young used to get married outside under trees, and they'd say they were married in the big church, their ancestors' genetic memory curdling in their blood and released as an unconscious homage in their words with the phrase: knowing and understanding that no structure built by humans, large or small, can contain the majesty of nature, the big church is where one worships because one is compelled to, there is nothing to replace it, long live the king.            The colors in the forest this time of year are a reminder that the world is dying and that misery comes with the cold – in some months there will be ripples of pink and white, there will be bloom, the bare branches will be decorated delicate with the promises of life's return, there over yonder, the path is new the world is free…before giving way to a death-afore-death, behold how the phoenix renews himself, so too will the trees, the feathers, the leaves: embers of gold and crimson.            And then – the end.            December in West Virginia is an empress-queen with a baritone roar – the femininity of her beauty so crushingly powerful to the eye that it makes one's soul hurt, the demand for obeisance for merely looking upon her evoking a terrible goddess from the first, pure days of humanity when one could still read by starlight…            …stark, savage pulchritude. Up north from here they called a place the Canaan Valley, a sequel to the paradise from the Bible that Bligh's grandfather would preach from – for, surely, they had found what must have been a newfound Earthly paradise, summits bathed in glory like our Prince Immanuel's Land. And there are many places in America that are called God's Country and so it was here, but in West Virginia which god is never specified: whomever it be, it is ancient, it is feral.            Bligh took a breath, billowing out faint vapor – the air was cleaner over here, away from town, a single paved road going out, out, stretching until it picks up 63, then 219, Lewisburg, bigger cities and bigger places far away from the creek, the forest, the owls.            The creek had, by its occupation of geology, drained the area around it and turned it into grassy, shrubby flatland – its waters formed a drawn border between the meadow plain, marred by the occasional bare spot of rock, and the hilly woods. Next to the meadow, the road plunged out toward the shifting hills on the horizon, on a clear day you really could see forever. After the road and the meadow the woods appeared and the hills resumed their climb, inhabited in the uneven transition by squat shrubs, cruel briars, and, in happier times of the year, billowing, fragrant herbs and wildflowers that bees would excitably buzz about. Great jagged boulders jutted out like the bones of the prehistoric ground sloth who once reigned here, and tangles of dead vines would crawl and creep, up and over the exposed rock. Way on up ahead the creek broadened, and on its banks sat the ruins of an old mill, sometimes a beaver dam, alongside a rabbit-bitten plain that dipped into a holler as Dog's Creek disappeared into the Earth.            Bligh stopped where he was, listening for the owl – Who cooks for you? Who cooks for all! – to tell him where to go. He could measure by the owl how far away he was from town, and where the squirrels were. Head away from where you hear the owl, his grandfather had told him, for when he goes quiet, that is when he has found prey – where is he noisiest there are no animals for him to catch…            …in the woods. The entrance to the woods was a doorway to somewhere else, one false step across the creek and into another realm, you'd stumble.            He heard from Pappy once that a boy who courted his mama had taken sick and the night he was supposed to have died a whole big passel of squirrels sat by his window, and then his mama had seen him, healthy but changed into a half-squirrel hisself, watching her sadly from a bush or a tree. His mama used to tell that story as a funny thing, she couldn't be sure if it was a dream or not. But Pappy thought it weren't no dream – Pappy believed her.            That was the kind of weirdness and strangeness and blurring of lines that took place here, this town, Tempest, West Virginia – really all over West Virginia, everywhere you went there was stories and tales and whispers and secrets.            That was what you had to watch for in these woods. Was it real or was it all just imagination? You'd never know – you'd never know.            The woods surround you and hug you and clutch you tight, a bereaved mother deranged from watching her child age – the woods listen to your heartbeat and watch you, always, as you pass through. And the woods grant wishes, but they are terrible wishes.            Best stick to the creek, best stick to the road.            Most of the animals now in December are gone. The crows are left, because they never leave, and so are the cardinals to complete a bucolic scene of Appalachian Christmas. They dress up as Richelieu, hopping about the snow and singing about the closing year, they will speak of all that has happened – the deaths, the births, the endings and the beginnings – they will speculate on what the new year will bring, and laugh to think of their cousins that flew south to escape the cold.            The owl, too, is left. This time of day, when dusk was creeping and the clouds conspired with the darkness, the squirrels weren't as active, and the larger creatures – the mighty bear, the slender fox – had hid themselves in their yearly ritual of hibernation.            But the owl still calls: Who cooks for you? Who cooks for all!            It breaks into a stillness that is at once preternatural and yet expected: the chorus becomes not one of birdsong and katydid as it is in Summertime but rather of silence itself, each voice is muted but still singing, it will fade back in, it will return – montani semper liberi, montani semper spem, for others may see a dying world but the mountaineer sees a world merely asleep, for now, for now.            Bligh was out past that old abandoned church where he had found Duke, that the woods rose up behind and the creek ran through underneath its wormy, decaying floorboards – floorboards with old and rusty nails, Drew had stepped on one after Bligh had goaded him and goaded him to come along with him exploring, and boy Pappy got mad as a hornet, really jerked a knot in his tail…            …tail.            Almost involuntarily, Bligh found himself frowning – he wanted a tail, he wanted to be a werewolf, get on all fours like Duke and hunt his food with his nose and his mouth. That was the old – oldest thing about him, what he retreated to when he first came to live with his grandfather after his daddy and mama crashed their Cadillac car in a rainstorm. He was so, so young then – from then on it was just him and Pappy against the world.            And Drew – Drew too. But Drew didn't know – Pappy once thought he knew, but didn't really know – none of his guys on the football team would know, either. It was his own interior world, his private place – howling at the moon, staying out late with Duke and sneaking back in. Someday he'd tell Drew, he'd tell him all about how he knew that werewolves always belonged to the Devil according to the legends, and how he could never face Pappy because Pappy was a man of God like that, never knowing his own grandson badly wanted to be something so opposed to what he practiced, that's why Bligh would get sad every Sunday, that's why, secretly, he weren't Christian no more…            Not that he didn't believe. He surely did – haints and monsters were just as real as you and me, yes sir – and maybe there weren't a Heaven, but by golly there was probably a Hell.            But Drew didn't believe, he didn't believe in nothing, that's what made telling him so hard – Bligh pretending he was a werewolf like he'd always done, that part of him, that stayed religious and inflexibly spiritual even after he'd stop being really sure whoever Jesus Christ was – Bligh was still certain that the world around him was hardly all the world he got, and he never doubted werewolves were out there somewhere, that animals had souls…and the woods took care of their own.            He just never figured it all out yet – maybe he never would.            The ramshackle church, and his thoughts on religion, passed behind him.            Bligh sucked in a breath through his nose, stopping where he was – the crunch of leaves ceasing beneath his boots, deep up to his ankles – to look about him.            His eyes were of a different color than everyone else's in town, different than anybody else he'd ever really met, but they were the same color as his grandfather's and his daddy's too, who Bligh remembered only faintly before he died – they gave the impression of seeing everything by seeing past it, into it, X-ray eyes, strange magic, blue the color of ice, blue the color of the cold itself.            And his eyesight was, actually, more excellent than most anyone he knew – it's what made him a good quarterback, it's what made him a crack shot.            Like his grandfather, he could see what others couldn't.            He smirked at that – he never really smiled, Drew's wily little brother Stevie said that all the time and he was right, he smiled like his grandfather smiled, crooked, a little proud, a little bashful…a smirk.            Now he stopped to squint and try to sharpen his focus – the squirrels he'd thought he'd seen were becoming clearer, a rare passel of them, there, not far, the edge of the woods, but on the nearer side of the creek, two, three, four squirrels.            How lucky! He'd have to tell Pappy: one climbing the base of a great big walnut tree, one on the branch that made it shake as it moved – two on the ground.            This would be easier than he'd thought – maybe he did know what he was doing.            He approached them stealthily – Drew always said he was good at sneaking up on people, an unconscious skill he never remembered learning, but which he put to adept use out here on the hunt – he raised his gun, he took his shot.            The noise erupted into the stillness and startled a murder of crows that flew off, cawing raucously, from a tall beech tree near the walnut where he had felled one squirrel, then another – only two, felled with one shot each: "New record," Bligh muttered to himself.            Their compatriots fled for their lives into the forest, their peace of tail-twitching and squawking at each other ruined by violence and bloodshed.            Bligh took his time walking to reach them, inhaling deep again, another airish breeze coming up and grazing his skin – it was getting colder, because it was quickly getting darker.            He reached down to pick up the pair of small, furry, lifeless bodies – he murmured the prayer that Pappy had taught him, thanking them for their lives and now for their death, that he could live on because they had given themselves up. That was the way of the woods…Pappy talked all the time about salvation and the Good Lord and what the Bible said, but sometimes Bligh would wonder – putting the squirrels in his poke to carry home – if Pappy didn't put his own take on the Good Book, something like the Indians that intermarried with the first settlers out here used to practice, about being with nature and being in balance.            Bligh was supposed to have some Indian in him – that explained the black hair.            As he rose from the grass, adjusting the poke over his shoulder, he thought he heard the owl again, louder, somewhere near him – Who cooks for you? Who cooks for all!            Loud – louder – close.            He whipped around him – where was it coming from?            He gripped his gun, hearing it – rising – nearer, nearer…            Who cooks for you? Who cooks for all!            Then – a chaos, a rushing whoosh, stronger and stiffer than the breeze.            Bligh spun on his heel to see it, pouring over the grass and the leaves, a noxious, spreading shadow that darkened the ground – above him came a flapping of wings, deep and ominous, the sound shuddering into the Winter air.            And then, attacking the tallest branch to make a perch, there it was: a thing, a giant thing, a thing – that looked like an owl.            Its wings were enormous, so large that had they been fully outstretched Bligh in his panicked fear wondered if they could have blotted out the feeble Winter's Sun – its talons were sharpened to a point, scaled legs and feet digging into the branch it held deeply enough that it would surely leave marks.            It had been crafted out of the very forest itself, as though spat out of every fitful nightmare every scurrying creature on the ground once had, and now come to life:            Tall, antler-like bundled feathers gave the impression of horns jutting off of what should have been his eyebrows, above eyes that, themselves, were ablaze with a psychedelic, ever-changing opalescence, never looking the same way twice, like lava captured in glass.            But the worst part was its face – no beak, no feathers, just skin, too smooth and healthy to be like a vulture's but too uniform to have been plucked off.            Taking it all in, his mind racing, Bligh's own eyes widened in horror as he realized: the face looked vaguely, passably – human.            The owl he had been hearing was no owl at all.            This was a monster, a creature of the woods from the fantasies of the first settlers and from the febrile fears of the Moneton – primeval, prehistoric, awful. Its feathers were shaggy, unkempt, bristling with poorly-molted plumage, the color of the leafless branches, perfectly camouflaged in the wild tangles of the treetops it leered down from.            Bligh raised his gun, finding to his fleeting relief that even in his state of total bewilderment, even looking into those fiendish, hypnotic, fiery eyes of the creature, he was not scared – all the preparedness his grandfather had instilled in him had worked. The thing seemed to threaten him, and Bligh meant to defend himself.            Again the question came, from the branches clenched in its talons, down to Bligh, through eyes of relentless fury that threw off fiery sparks of molten orange-yellow wherever they turned:            Who cooks for you? Who cooks for all!            Bligh's breathing steadied, and he lowered his gun – slowly, very slowly, never taking his eyes off the monstrous feathered thing.            The words – and they were words – echoed, hard, in Bligh's ears. He could understand them, he could make them make sense in his own head, the voice with a far more rich timbre than any owl's should be.            His eyes were still wide with bewilderment but the fear was being replaced with something – something he would never think to feel out here, alone, confronted with a giant owl that leered at him from a walnut tree, with a gun in his hand.            He felt – guilty.            He felt that he should be able to understand this creature and that not being able to was making it sad and desperate, like he wasn't keeping a promise, like Bligh had been entrusted with something important, dire, and had carelessly forgotten it.            Yet again the owl-thing hooted at him – again it leered at him.            Who cooks for you? Who cooks for all!            In the woods you are always trespassing, in the woods you are always being watched – the owl hooted and hooted its outrage, the only words it knew, transmuted, translated, into human-like words that Bligh understood as an inchoate, unanswerable question: the portcullis was lowered, and now Bligh, whose people were meant to be kings of this land even when Drew's people were the ones who bought and sold and enslaved it, was an exile in his own realm, for heavy is the head whose crown has fallen.            He felt foolish, foolish enough to answer an owl – or what looked like an owl – or something that was half-owl, half-boy…            He gritted his teeth, he cocked an eyebrow, he shrugged his shoulders:            "I dun – I dunno?" A silence passed, tense and chastened, between he and the plumed beast above him. He repeated: "I dunno! I dun – I dunno!"            The owl-thing withdrew – it did not take its great, staring eyes off of him, but held him in a gaze that was accusatory, angry – sad.            That was not the answer it wanted.            It hooted out the same thing – again now, distraught, defeated, in disbelief, as though trying to make sense of what the human beneath had just said:            Who cooks for you? Who cooks for all!            And then Bligh knew.            The mournful siren of the owl, the same phrase – Who cooks for you? Who cooks for all! – over and over and over, had an inescapable meaning: he was too inexperienced, he was irresponsible with his duties – he was not worthy.            In the silence that was not stirred by any caw, tweet, cricket, rustle – in this silence, this perfect silence of West Virginia's December, at the border of the real and the unreal, the known places where humans lived and the unknown places of tree, wood, and leaf, he understood, looking into the eyes of the owl that he was sure was no owl at all…he understood, ashamedly, perfectly, what had happened.            Bligh had wanted this, something like this, to be close to this, be a part of this – he had wanted to be a beast himself, a werewolf to roam the forest, and yet here he was, at the very gate to the forest, with the wood itself so full of shining eyes and creeping feet, beckoning him with long clawed fingers…and he had no idea what to do.            The owl-thing flew off, off into the distance, spread its wings so wide its shadows could have killed the Sun – it bore itself aloft, far, far from where Bligh stood, his gun, and his defenses, his confidence, all down – the predatory shape the owl-thing took melted into the treetops, its bushy plumage indistinguishable from the branches and the leaves.            The encounter had lasted no more than three, four minutes – and yet it seemed so much longer, it had seemed like forever, several forevers, it seemed like time and its dimensions had simply ceased to be, and that the friendly world of logic and understanding, Planet Earth, had let open a small pocket of weirdness so potent it undid reality itself.            Worst of all was how, staring after it, trying to put everything together, how Bligh felt – different. He felt, somehow, and for no rational reason, that this would not have happened to anyone else, that this was destined, doomed, for him to find and for him to experience, alone. Not Drew, not Pappy, not Duke – only him, for whatever reason.            He started back for home, quickening his pace as he went – that owl-thing's awful face, awful voice, refusing to leave his tortured mind's eye.            When he got home he was still shook up, and as he opened the door to come in, doffing his boots and hanging his Ravens cap on the wooden rack nailed to the wall, putting up his gun, he tried to right himself once more, steadying his face and his emotions.            Pappy was waiting for him in the kitchen, the whole house alive with lusty smells of seasoned cookery stewing in the crockpot. He came to meet Bligh in the little hallway that led to the dining room with its big window next to the kitchen, salt-and-peppered eyebrows arched and together as he nodded his greeting – dressed in his usual flannel, like Bligh, and workaday jeans with house slippers, he looked nearly like Bligh in the face, a full chinstrap beard to accompany the same rugged handsomeness, but creased and aged.            "Ya shoot us some dinner fer tomorrow night?" He had a powerful voice, honed for decades in the preacher's pulpit.            "Yessir," Bligh answered. "Squirrels – pair of em, whole passel out down past the ol church."            "Well bring em over, lemme clean em – ya done yer homework?"            "Yessir," Bligh repeated, bringing his poke to the counter to leave for his grandfather. "Done it afore I went out."            "Aight," Pappy answered with another nod. "Drew came by n'dropped off Duke – I gave em some o'them preacher cookies fer his trouble, weren't much but yanno he loves em." He motioned with his head to a closed door where their living room was. "That dawg o'yers is sleepin in ere, he waitin fer ya."            "Thank ya, Pappy," Bligh said, forcing a grin, hoping he wouldn't notice the worried expression that had riddled into his face all the way home.            As he turned to move on, Pappy removed the squirrels from the poke and called out after him: "Clean kill, son! I'm impressed!"            Bligh sniffed in spite of himself – his grandfather's praise elated him, even this close to actual manhood.            As he opened the door into his cozy, wood-paneled living room he could feel, and see, a fire burning in the fireplace, and Duke, a huge, shaggy, bearded thing who always looked noble and aloof but who was also unfailingly sweet-natured, rose from his spot aside it to greet him – a little logy from his shots at Dr. Barnes', his furry ears went limp to let Bligh scratch the top of his head, he made a rough O with his snout and growled out a long hello.            "Hey, boy—" Bligh murmured back, embracing Duke tightly.            Not far from him in the kitchen Bligh could hear his grandfather hum a tune familiar to them both, sometimes with his voice rising to sing pieces of the words – "Oh! He led her over mountains, and valleys so deep…"            Now he shut his eyes – hearing his grandfather, feeling Duke, his fireplace-warmed fur against his own hand – it brought Bligh back to reality, to a groundedness that the open spaces by the road, the gates that led to the forests and up into the hills and then even further up into the mountain that loomed above his house, had all, momentarily, taken away.            Here in his home nothing could hurt him, the gleaming eyes or stealthy paws or the big, billowing wings of bird-creatures that spoke near to a human's words – he let himself sigh, an outrush of air to release the day, into the protection of the wooden walls.            Duke did the customary face-licking, a laving of Bligh's lips and budding beard, and he responded with one of his strange, delighted laughs that Drew's brother Stevie – again – would make fun of, scratching Duke's neck.            He sat down by one of the armchairs and Duke, enormous though he was, sat in Bligh's lap, near as big as Bligh was – Bligh hugged him close and buried his face in the dog's fur, remaining like this for several minutes, Duke waiting patiently, letting his human hold him as close as he needed to.            At some length he relinquished his hold on his dog and with a muffled growl-bark – mruf! – he rolled over, signaling to Bligh he was demanding a bellyrub, and Bligh obliged, and wanted to smile down at him, ask him how his day was, he always talked to dogs like that, pretending that they had the full command of the English language and could hold a witty conversation…he'd wonder sometimes if anyone could really talk to them, understand, hear what they'd have to say.            But right then he couldn't smile – because he could have used someone to talk to. No matter how cute Duke was being, tucking his head down and looking at Bligh with those heterochromatic eyes, one mud-brown and the other a crystal blue similar to his, he still couldn't shake being so bothered, being so puzzled.            Pappy called him to dinner in the next room, and he signaled for Duke to roll back over and join him – as Bligh left the living room Duke trotted past him, assuming his usual position under the table between Bligh on one end, Pappy at the other.            The dinner was squirrel, killed by Pappy the day before, in the crockpot – he'd been so tickled to have a new kitchen appliance and he had been putting just about everything in the crockpot for a whole week – seasoned with all the smells Bligh had encountered when he first walked in: ramp, vinegar, pepper, salted just a little, with some buttered biscuits and, as a special treat, some muggins that Pappy had been saving. He was hungry – he felt his mouth water just looking at his plate.            He knelt his head and joined hands across the table in the prayer his grandfather led: "Dear Lord we jest wanna thank ye fer the bounty afore us, n'thank ya Lord fer keepin Bligh safe – please keep us in yer grace, Lord, n'we ask this in Jesus' name—"            Bligh let bloom the last little flower in his dead garden of Christianity by joining in:            "Amen."            His first few bites were enthusiastic, the taste of the squirrel-meat so well cooked, the muggins perfect with a little butter – but as he ate the face of the owl-thing, bitter and mean and near-human, reappeared in his mind's eye…the bewilderment at what he had seen returned in force, and he slowed his eating, bit by bit, enough that Pappy took notice:            "What's ailin ye, son?"            Bligh shook his head. "Ain't nuthin…"            "I know when I'm bein told a falsehood – n'ye know that's a sin."            Bligh sighed. "I – I saw sumthin real weird in the woods. Right after I got them squirrels. It – got me afeared."            Pappy nodded. "What ya see?"            Bligh told his story and Pappy listened, nodding along, letting Bligh speak. When he was finished he took a deep breath, the images reemerging, and he shifted uncomfortably – the painful memory of being accused, of being scolded, still made him feel dirty and ashamed.            His grandfather laid down his knife and fork, seeming to escape into his own deep thought and contemplation. Some seconds went by before he turned his head back to Bligh and answered:            "Ya say a big ol owl?"            "Yessir, big ol son of a gun," Bligh affirmed, his throat suddenly dry – he took the glass of water Pappy and poured him and downed half of it. "Kept – hootin at me, n'hootin at me, making all this noise like I…like I weren't s'posed to've been there."            "Hmm…" Pappy said, folding his arms – and then again: "Hmm."            "What is it?"            "Well…I jest hafta say, that's mighty interestin."            "It – it is?"            Pappy did not answer at first – his face took on an unusual aspect, the eyes that saw everything suddenly seemed to encapsulate the entire universe and reduce it into his icy eyes.            Bligh laid his fork down across his plate – Duke, perhaps sensing his human was upset, appeared beneath him, leaning his head back to get Bligh to scratch him more.            "I wanna – tell ya a story." Pappy began to murmur, sighing some. His voice became commanding, lilting with his accent, the sound of a polished raconteur, a master storyteller. "Long time gone…when I was li'l boy, I never knew my granddaddy, reckon I told ya—"            "Yessir ye did."            "He ah – went crazy – ran off one night and ain't nobody seen em ever again." Bligh nodded – Pappy's face did not change, as though his gaze was now peering directly into the past. "Well…" he began again, "come ta find out, right bout the time Ol Patrick Lynch – my granddaddy's granddaddy – came over here from Ireland, he met a young man, not yet two-and-twenty, by the name o'William – William, ah…" He shut his eyes now, as though trying to remember – a bemused look came to him as he chuckled to himself. "Naw – I can't remember, I wrote it down somewheres but – anyhoo, ah…" He grunted in self-affirmation. "William come up to Ol Patrick's one day, sayin he was witched."            "Witched?" Bligh repeated.            "Yessir – witched. Said a lady he was tryin ta court cast a spell on em and he was right sick – wudn't say how. Asked Ol Patrick fer help, said he wanted em to cook up sumthin that'd make em not witched n'more, seein as he was Irish so surely ta goodness—" Pappy smirked, knowingly. "Surely ta goodness he'd know how ta take care of em. Well – what's Ol Patrick gonna do? Little racist, weren't it? Ol Patrick believed in witches jest like everybody else but – what kinda sumthin he gonna fix gonna cure all that? He mighta been Irish but he weren't no wizard, he was a big ol Catholic, a God-fearin man."            "Can't ya fight witchcraft and all that with Christian stuff?" Bligh ventured.            Pappy shot him a warning glance. "Ain't no stuff, boy—"            Bligh looked away, knowing he had spoken out of turn. "Sorry – sir."            His grandfather made a small sigh before continuing: "Anyhoo, evidently this weren't that kinda witchin, cuz he had tried everythin, understand. Priest n'preacher and Lord knew what else – guess Ol Patrick was his last chance."            "S-so he—" Bligh hesitated. "He – he wanted him to – cook for him…"            Pappy raised his eyebrows as though to consider it before nodding. "Sumthin like that. Thought Ol Patrick could know a thing or too, give em sumthin or other ta help out, like I say. But seein as he weren't that way – he tell William to g'on and go – get on bout hisself." At this he motioned with his head, again, as though he were Ol Patrick and he was shooing off poor William – he paused now, as though for effect. "Well – here's where it gets a li'l queer, now. Come ta find out, there's a big ol owl livin down ere by the creek – this bout a month later – and folk say it weren't no owl t'all, but William hisself up ere, in the trees, all feathered and with big claws – waitin, waitin fer sumthin." He paused again. "Whether it be that girl that witched em ta take the curse off, or – sumthin else, I…" Now he shook his head, slowly. "They, rather – they never say."            Bligh was bewildered – he stared at Pappy, mouth agape, both hands on the table, speechless.            "I heard that story growin up – passed down through the years – fer the longest time, thought it was – yanno, ol folks jest tellin tales…" He grinned. "Nuthin wrong with that now, but—" The grin faded. "I done heard a whole lot over the years about folk seein an owl – weird-lookin, big ol thang, up ere in them trees, hootin and hootin loud as can be." He seemed to ponder the idea a moment, and then: "When I tell ya ta listen fer the owl – that ain't the owl I'm talkin bout."            At this, Bligh was beset with a feeling he had never experienced before – the story that his grandfather had told him, the tale of some unlucky sap being spurned and cursed by a witch and turned into a half-man, half-owl, doomed to haunt the countryside forever, seemed familiar to him, so much so he was near-spinning with something like déjà-vu, like a disused vault in his head had been thrown open, and there, long-forgotten, was the complementary facts to accompany his grandfather's narration.            He had never, not once, ever experienced anything like this – a regression, a joining, from nowhere to nowhere, pieces falling together that were all blank, collecting together to form some indecipherable picture.            The owl-thing had asked him questions and it had been like being in school and being called on by a teacher, expected to know the answer when you hadn't even read the book. This was similar: it was like he had known about this the entire time and had it, somehow, completely obliterated from his memory.            But where had it come from, and where had it gone? And why?            Who was William?            His abrupt, unwelcome introspection was cut into by his grandfather's voice:            "Boy – boy."            Bligh jerked his up from staring at the table to stammer out his new revelation: "I know – I know all about that."            His grandfather was nonplussed. "Zat so, now?"            Bligh nodded. "I dun – I dunno why, but I do."            Pappy took a drink of water himself. He set down his glass, and gave his grandson's remark a judicious look.            "Ain't like much ever happens round here, and people talk – n'talk n'talk – I ain't sayin what ye saw was that William feller up ere in em trees." His voice had grown soft, almost comforting. "But sometimes…" Pappy began, seeming to choose his words carefully. "What we see – ain't what really is." He raised his eyebrows to end the sentence.            Bligh stared at him, unsure – he glanced away, past his grandfather to the window behind him, where the darkness of the wooded mountain was pouring through, shimmering dimly with reflected firelight.            "I ain't—" He cleared his throat. "I ain't sure what ye mean, Pappy."            "What ye reckon I mean?"            Bligh considered the thought before shrugging. "Reckon ye mean – reckon ye mean my mind saw sumthin, but my eyes didn't—"            "T'ain't what I'm sayin t'all, boy." Pappy leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows still up.            There was a twinkle in the corner of his eye that Bligh knew meant he was withholding something, that he knew something Bligh didn't and that he'd have to figure it out himself – this was how his grandfather taught him critical thinking.            Bligh sighed through his nose, drawing his lips together in a deep frown – he shook his head.            "I dunno – I—" He tried powering through the congealed mass of questions, confusions, frustrations – but he failed, he shook his head once again. For the second time that day, he had to admit: "I dun – I dunno."            "Ye thought ye'd seen an owl, zat so?"            Bligh nodded – Pappy's eyebrows finally went down.            "Well mebbe it weren't no owl t'all – maybe it was sumthin else." He seemed to read Bligh's tormented confusion, and gave one of his own crooked smiles back. "Ya gotta think, boy – were it that tale I told ya bout Old William – come ta life now? Ya said ya heard it from somewheres, n'ye could be right." He cocked his head some, challenging his grandson. "Or ya could be wrong. Mebbe – s'jest a reg'lar ol owl, nuthin more, nuthin less."            "Why—" Bligh frowned, this time sadly, feeling as though his grandfather was, for the first time in his entire life, letting him down. "Why ain't ye tell me the answer?"            Pappy leaned back in. "I dunno the answer, son. I ain't gonna tell ya what ye seen cuz I ain't the one that seen it – ye gotta be the one." He leaned back as though to survey his grandson, whose head came down slightly to contemplate what the old man had told him. "All I know is this town has some nutty stuff goin on round it – n'ye deserve ta know it. Yanno I love ye, boy, I'm here ta help ya—" For a moment, just a moment, his eyes seemed melancholy, his face turned helpless, and the confidence and certitude he projected melted back to reveal something actually worried. "But sometimes – a man has ta decide on his own. I wanna tell ya what ya saw ain't nuthin ta be afeared of, but – I can't rightly tell ya that, honestly. Jest be careful – what I been tellin ye all these years?"            Bligh cleared his throat. "Ain't – uh – ain't no telling what ye find in em woods."            Pappy smirked. "I mean it, too. Be careful, Bligh – n'tell me if'n ye see that bird again." He sniffed, reaching for his grandson's hand – Bligh slid it to him and he squeezed it gently. "What I always tell ye, all these years – all these years ye've been livin here?" His smirk became a grin. "I'd never let nuthin happen ta my boy – not ever." He paused. "Monster or no monster."            Bligh nodded, smirking himself, humbled and loved – he sensed the conversation had come to an end. "Y-yessir – I – I understand." He smirked, embarrassed at the attention. "I love ya too, Pappy."            He tried to cheer up, because he could his grandfather searching him, wanting him to reach a conclusion, even if the conclusion was not a conclusion at all, but a question mark. In the instant, he realized the method behind the disjointedness of Pappy's reply – the story that seemed to confirm something but only added to the confusion, so that the question would be left forever open.            They returned to their dinner – savory squirrel, the meat tasty, well-seasoned, Pappy was an excellent cook as he was, probably, everything else. Duke curled underneath the table to watch for scraps, and for the moment Bligh tried to push seeing the owl-thing – William – out of his head, to enjoy the December evening with his grandfather.            When the dinner was over and Bligh told Pappy how much he enjoyed it, he offered to clear the table and wash the dishes – Pappy retired to the living room to read his Bible and wait for him, so that they could watch Law & Order together, their nightly ritual, guessing whodunit, trying to take their minds off whatever happened that day. Duke would join them, laying by the fire, rolling over with all four paws in the air, snoring.            Bligh had plenty to think about as he scrubbed the plates and silverware and set them aside on the waiting towel to dry. Next week they would go out and find a Christmas tree together, still alive and not cut down, so that they could, when the season was over, plant it on the slope of their mountain. Pappy would light candles in the house and he and Bligh would clean together for Baby Jesus' birthday – you know all the farm animals face east on Christmas Eve? It's true, Pappy would say, like he said every year, adding that anyone around here will tell you that – all the animals know, better than the humans they live with, that it's time to wait for the Lord to be born. Some say they talk to, but Pappy ain't ever heard a cow say his own name.            Pappy would see to it that Bligh, living in a town with such savage strangeness pulsing beneath it, without parents and facing down a world which would not understand the way he was raised and the way he spoke, was still, at least for a time, safe – and loved.            Bligh thought about that the whole time they watched television together – he hid a grin as he cuddled closed to Duke, he and his grandfather's favorite show flickering on the screen.            Then the hour grew late he and Pappy said good night to each other after they watched the news – Bligh lay awake in his bed, Duke on the floor, curled on his rug like he always was, still exhausted from his day at Dr. Barnes'.            When he heard Pappy's bedroom door shut, Bligh's eyes went open, his face creased with perplexity – and a little fear.            He had tried to sleep, but couldn't – he always slept real good when it was cold out like this, and cold in his house, but he couldn't, he couldn't sleep at all.            He'd always known his town was a strange one, he'd always heard that weird things went on, he'd even seen that big mountain lion – cattywampus – but he had never expected something like this, something he couldn't deny, something he couldn't explain…right in front of him…            What made it weirder, harder to believe it wasn't all in his head, was – his mom had the same experience. Some crazy half-man half-something looked down at her from a tree…what little he remembered of his mom was that story, and how Pappy telling her it weren't no dream, it was real, because she had seen it.            Now the same thing had happened to her son – Bligh.            She'd been alone, no one around to tell her if she was crazy or telling the truth. And right then, Bligh had been all alone too. No Drew – who would tell him it was just an unusually big owl he'd seen, nothing more, no need to worry about it too much, people don't turn into owls and there is definitely no such thing as a forest-guardian. No Duke – who would growl and charge and courageously defend him, not leave him vulnerable to be questioned by whatever the Hell had roosted in that walnut tree. And no cell phone, not that his own cell phone was all fancy and had a camera like Drew's but even so, it would have helped to know he wasn't so isolated out yonder…            …like he felt isolated now.            Just as he felt out near the woods, he felt different, he felt apart from his bed and his bedroom and his house and his town, like he had experienced something nobody else was supposed to, just him, only for him, the woods, the mountain, the whole universe staring at him, waiting for him to speak, waiting for him to answer that owl-thing's question…a question that, deep inside him, he was sure he knew the answer to, somewhere, somehow.            It made him important, that way – to know the answer, to be entrusted, to be the one who kept the promise but maybe wasn't ready yet, maybe wasn't old enough. But being important isn't always a good thing – having all this weird attention on him, or feeling like he did, wasn't a good thing.            Drew had told him once: eventually everybody looks at themselves and wonders who they really are. That's the point of being human, he said – and he was coming from a place of his science books and all his smarts which Bligh didn't have, and not knowing Bligh winced at the idea that he, too, was a human being,            So then who was Bligh? The guy that talked to monsters in the woods? All his people except his daddy, Lord rest him, had been woodsmen – was that it? Something about his family, way back when…?            Bligh shut his eyes, the day finally catching up to him at long last, a welcome feeling of tiredness coming to him – what had happened, what he had seen, the riddles left all unsolved, not yet, not today.            As sleep finally shrouded his mind he thought he could hear it, one last time, the hooting, the call from beyond, close to his ears, inside his head, nearer to his heart – a secret, a door to which he had a key but did not know how to turn the lock, not yet, not just yet…            Who cooks for you? Who cooks for all!