#I bent down to feed my cats when I got home and I swear I greyed out for a second cuz I moved Bad

[pucciverse]

:-)

[whenitcounts33]

Join Me pt. 2

What she remembers: Fire burning every cell of her body, reforming and then burning again. Her heart, beating much too fast to be safe, pumping the fire through her body. Victoria speaking to her in a soft voice, crooning to her and brushing hands Bella can barely feel through her hair. It’ll be over soon. I’m sorry. I remember how much it hurts. The fire slowly starting to leave her body, starting with her toes and then her legs and torso. It dragged to her heart, hotter than before.

What she remembers: Edward. The soft venom in his honey voice. I don’t want you anymore. I’m a good liar. All of the Cullen's leaving. Leaving her. Her best friend Alice leaving without a goodbye, half a year of friendship gone because of a paper cut. Esme staring at her in mute horror, hand clasped over her mouth and eyes black with hunger. Jasper’s venom coated teeth snapping inches from her face, a ferocious snarl tearing from his throat. Carlie’s steady breathing as he stitched her better, Rosalie’s smug expression as she left the house, Emmett with her, a firm grip on Jasper. The fear ripping through her, a scream tearing from her sore throat when she woke up every night (when she wakes up two-days later, she remembers them, him, with a soft hatred, understanding why they, he, had to leave her but hating them, him, for it).

What she remembers: When Bella woke up, it was with a gasp. Someone’s hand, skin warm and smooth, maybe soft, was holding hers.

What she remembers: Her body flying from the floor and into a corner, bent into a predatory position, protecting herself. Victoria watched her warily from where Bella originally was, hands held out in a placating gesture. She only noticed her with a part of her brain, the rest of her was focused on everything else. She could see, taste, smell everything. “Wow,” she breathed, and then froze, she could taste the dust motes on her tongue, and the tangy taste of leather and cotton. Her voice, though, that startled her. It was higher pitched, musical, like a bell, nothing like Victoria’s little girl’s voice.

                                                          *****************************

Bella loved running, going so fast everything should have blurred as it flew past her, her bare feet barely touching the ground. It felt like flying and for those first few days Bella and Victoria raced each other all the way from Washington to Canada and back again. Victoria let Bella hunt her own way, following closely so nothing went wrong. It felt weird, sinking her teeth into some homeless man’s throat, but the taste and feel of his blood kept her from thinking about it too much. Her eyes were still ruby red; she jumped in fright every time she saw them in a reflection. Victoria told her, after she stopped laughing at Bella, that they wouldn’t be so bright in a year.

It was after the third feeding – round of hunting? – that she bought the topic up to Victoria, nervously fingering the fringes of her yellow sweater. For the first month of her “new” life, she ripped hundreds of shirts and pants trying to get them on. She was so much stronger than the flimsy fabrics now.

“Do you think,” she began, smiling softly when Victoria swatter her fingers away from the sweater, “that we should change our eating habits?” She remembered the Cullen's, thoughts clouds and hazy, and their gold eyes and how they hunted animals, not humans.

Victoria arched a brow, head tilted, something Bella still associated with house cats. “What do you mean?” She asked and Bella swallowed, noting the dull burn in her throat, and sighed softly. “I think we should hunt animals.” She waited with bated breath as the words sunk in, Victoria’s mouth thinning and her eyes turning speculative. “Why do you think that?” she finally asked after 105 seconds of silence. Bella blew out a noisy breath of relief and launched into her explanation. How he – Bella never spoke about them by name and Victoria never questioned it, she just went with it – and the rest of his family had hunter animals, not humans, and that it left them much the same as her and Victoria. How he had hunted after the human predators for a time, how he stopped because he didn’t want to be a monster.

Victoria looked at Bella and Bella looked back, a silent conversation between the two of them going on. Victoria saw how Bella truly wanted this, how only feeding from any human that they found was slowly killing her. Bella saw how Victoria shied away from the thought of hunting animals but liked the idea of hunting down the predators, of making them suffer the way their prey did. Victoria nodded, reaching out her hand, and Bella immediately put her hand in hers, linking their fingers.

This, their relationship, was something Bella never had when she was human. Something she could have had with Alice, had it not been cut short. “We could try,” she says, and hope flares up and Bella throws herself at Victoria, the red-head yelping as the force of the tackle makes Victoria fly backwards, right into an old spruce that crashes to the ground with a loud groan.

“You’re an idiot,” Victoria laughs, fond, and Bella beams.

                                        *****************************

Bella watched as Victoria paced back and forth, too fast for a human to see, too fast for Bella to watch without wincing as her feet makes permanent marks in the cement. “Vic,” Bella sighs, interrupted by the groan of the human boy lying in a pool of his own blood six-feet from where she perched.

Riley Biers. 

Six-feet-three-inches and pure muscle. Not stocky like a football player, but lankier, like a swimmer. Sandy blond hair and a sharp jawline with high cheekbones. A beautiful boy, really. Victoria had stopped him from dying after feeding from his attackers; three assholes who jumped him and brutalized him and left him for dead. Victoria hunted them down and made them pay. Victoria had called up Bella, swearing and frantic, on the verge of a panic attack and Bella had rushed to her, worried about her sister.

“I can’t let him die, Bell,” Victoria sobbed, letting Bella tug her into a tight hug, red curls tickling her cheek. “I think he’s my mate,” she whispered a while after, having gotten Riley stabilized, the bleeding done for now, his ribs wrapped up nice and tight. Bella had taken a nursing class when they got to Seattle, after being in Canada for half a year, and felt sure enough in her skills that she knew Riley would last for a few more hours. Or until Victoria figured out what she wanted to do.

Bella glanced over at her best friend, brows raised, sympathy clear in her orange-amber eyes. “Why do you say that?” She asked, knowing she had to be the one to stay clinical, to not let her emotions or feelings get in the way of what needed to happen. She glanced down at Riley, at the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

“Because” Victoria sighed, running both hands through the snarled mass of red curls, “I could tell from the moment I heard him scream. It was killing me, knowing someone was hurting him, that he was in pain. Then I got to him and took one look at his face and it was like something clicked. Like I was missing something and didn’t realize until he was right there.”

Bella pressed her lips together and glanced down at Victoria. She placed her arms around the other woman, letting her lean against her for comfort. “Then change him,” she whispered. “If he feels the same way about you that you do about him when he wakes up. . ..” She trailed off, shrugging, Victoria hissed slightly when the motion jostled her head on Bella’s shoulder. She was thinking about it though, Bella knew, in the clinical, careful way that she thought.

“Do you really think so?” She asked, voice soft and shy and hesitant and Bella was surprised that her spitfire of a best friend was nervous about this human boy. Though, she supposed, this was certainly not a situation that anyone would be comfortable or sure in. She wondered if Carlisle was this nervous before creating another vampire to join his family. Was he this nervous, or was he self-assured, confident that he was making the right decision?

Victoria suddenly sat up straight, a gasp leaving her mouth and she flew the three-feet to Riley Biers, hands fluttering uselessly over him, eyes wide and frantic. Riley was watching her, cheeks bright red like he had a fever, his own eyes wide, lips parted like he wanted to say something, but Bella beat him to it. “Now or never, Vic,” she said, kneeling down on the other side of Riley, movements slow and deliberate so as to not frighten him. Victoria drew in a deep breath, wincing when the smell and taste of his blood surrounded her.

She told him about the change, about what Bella and Victoria did, how they tried to protect girls, and boys, from those who hurt them, who manipulated them for their own gain. How Riley had a choice: they could change him, turn him into a vampire; they could let him die, peacefully, with no pain; or they could bring him to a hospital.

Three days later, Riley Biers woke up as a vampire. Two months later Bella had to leave Seattle for a few days because she was not listening to Victoria and Riley have sex. No, she’d rather burn again.

                                          *****************************

It was a three months later when they met Bree Tanner. She was a tiny thing and Bella felt a maternal affection and a need to protect for the girl the minute she saw her. She was sitting in a corner, knees drawn up to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around her knees. She was watching Bella and Bella was watching Bree.

Bella knew Bree was poor, that she had no real home life. She saw her nearly get into some creeps’ car because he offered to buy her dinner for a blowie. Thank god Bree had the good sense to realize she’d probably end up with some disease if she did this and said no. Bella would have thrown up if she could. She settled for draining the guy dry and leaving him in the alley she found him in. Three days later she saw Bree again and this time Bella got her lunch; a turkey sandwich from a Deli Bree likes, with a bag of Taki’s and a strawberry shake from a McDonald’s down the street. Bella also bullies Bree into drinking two bottles of water.

After, when Bree asks why Bella did this, the woman could only shrug, not truly knowing. “You look like you could use the meal and that you don’t know a lot of people who would buy you lunch.” Bree had smiled at that, tentative and as pretty as the sun after a long day of rain. Bella promises herself she’ll buy Bree lunch, or any meal, whenever they see each other.

It’s a month later when Bree’s father dies, and the poor girl is homeless. Bella gets a call from a payphone and rushes to Bree, pulling the crying girl into a tight hug that steals the breath from Bree’s lungs (Bella finally realizes how easily Edward could have killed her when she holds Bree’s fragile, human body in her arms).

Riley and Victoria are with her, standing a few feet back so as to not frighten the girl – neither admit it’s because Bree smells good and Riley is still too new to be trusted so close to a human he wasn’t planning on feeding from. Victoria watches the fond look grow in Bella’s eyes, the way she brushes a lock of black hair from the girl’s forehead, the way the girl doesn’t flinch away from Bella’s alien touch. Bella hadn’t flinched away from Victoria’s touch, but Bella was weird and something different was going on in her brain, so she couldn’t really fault her for that.

Riley tugged her closer, tight against his side and Victoria smiled at the familiar flash of heat that went through her body, snuggling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist. He wasn’t breathing too much, she knows, even knowing Bella and Victoria would never let him hurt someone he shouldn’t. Could never be too careful. “D’you think Bells will change her?” He whispered, low enough anyone that could walk by would have no chance of hearing. Bella, of course, hears him though, and stretches her arm out behind her to flash Riley the finger, making him shake with suppressed laughter.

“Maybe,” Victoria murmurs, resting her head against Riley’s shoulder and listens to Bella ask Bree about her classes at school, listens to Bree go on and on and on about a short story she’s writing for her English class. “We just finished Macbeth though, so she has to give us the test before we really get into the stories. My teacher told me I wrote the best essay in all her classes,” she gloats and Bella beams, proud as any mother. “You’ll have to let me read it,” Bella says and Bree nods eagerly, “’Course,” she promises.

Neither Victoria or Riley is surprised when Bella changes Bree and the two are joined at the hip, Bree always holding onto Bella’s hand and Bella always smoothing down Bree’s hair.

Bella lays at night, Bree curled up against her side as she softly reads from a book of poems by Audre Lorde. Victoria has her head in Riley’s lap, his fingers carding through her wild curls, both listening to Bree’s soft voice.

“In the blood in the bone over coffee/ before dashing for elevators going/ in opposite direction without goodbyes,” she reads out loud and Bella smiles, closing her eyes.

She finally has her family.

[alias-b]

Nothing Lasts Forever.

Summary. The town of Derry changes people. Sends them running away. What it draws in is arguably worse. Humans create the hate and evil monsters come to feed off of. Eleanor Baker knew that well at a young age when she stumbled upon a painted figure in the distance. Pennywise never forgot the girl without fear. It’s possible that they haunted each other.

AN: I take no responsibility for this. Me flexing some horror and hopelessness bc I have nothing left to lose here. Wrote this to work through some things and sorta in love with it. TW: Should be obvious. Trauma. CSA mention. Abuse. S*xual references. G*re. S*icidal thoughts.  Death. Pennywise F*cks and it’s canon. Sorry, Mr. King.

Pennywise x OC Eleanor Baker ~ Also on my ao3

   They say she saw It first.

   They say she smelled the circus. Sugary sweet and the rusting of metal.

   They say she heard the bells toll soft. Once. Twice for her.

   They say she felt no fear.

   A branch cracked under pristine shoes, distracting a clown in the midst of hunt. The prey; small and blue eyed, barely five years old, ran into safe arms where their family set up camp for a weekend by the lake. 

   Body twisting around, It saw her last. Six years old. Curious green eyes shimmered even under grey skies. Pigtails. Feet behind her, father was hunched over to change a tire with mother beckoning from the window. Pulled over to the side of the road near a Derry forest. The Baker family. Well known and beloved because they had money.

   “Eleanor. You’ll ruin your new shoes. We can’t be late for your recital. It’s going to rain!” Mother’s voice went under heard. Leaves rustled while the clown made a path to slink toward her. Her lips parted, eyes fixated and unblinking. Yellow eyes faded to baby blue like the pretty jewels her mother wore. Safe.

   They were face to face. Drool dripped to hit her once untouched shoes. Those bejeweled eyes surged from that delicate blue back to a hungry orange, glowing brighter and yet he smelled nothing. 

   She had no scent. No fear. A deep, wide nothing. Vast as the ocean could reach. There was no advancing, no will to bring forth the deadlights. She’d probably think they were pretty stars watching over her. Cinderella wishing for a fairy godmother and a prince to whisk her away. He could only watch her make an utter fool of him. Somehow that charmed.

   “Eleanor, now!” Came the shout from her father. A drop of red emerged from the trees. Shiny and terrible. “Where did you get that?”

   A red balloon skimmed against the breeze.

   “From the clown.” She said, getting into the car. “He gave it to me.”

   “Enough playing around, Nell.” Father pressed her inside. The grip was lost along the tangled string. That spot of blood floated up toward the endless sky. Became a floating star too. She wished to float with it. 

   Eleanor danced her little heart out. Prima Ballerina in the making. Perfection was not everything, it was the only thing. She gazed into the audience beyond the balmy stage lights. Rows and rows of orange eyes. Glowing into her. No fear to be cast. Not for any of them. This world didn’t deserve it.

   She saw It again that same week. When they attended a big family reunion. Picnic and all. And her uncle pulled her into the closet full of coats and old board games that were gathering dust. He called this a game too. A secret game. 

   After he’d decided the game was over, a pang snatched his heart to squeeze. Gushing. Eleanor saw those glowing eyes from the shadows. Thought for a moment it was the old cat who roamed the grounds.

   Her uncle asked for help with no breaths left. Tore her frilly dress clutching at her. Hit the hardwood with a finishing crack. Blood pooled.

   Nell didn’t want it to stain her shoes or Mother would be upset.

   That white face bent down toward her. Spine curving to push out against skin. Utterly inhuman.

   “Can you smell the circus, Nelly?” Painted lips full of clustering teeth rumbled. She blinked. White cheeks threatened to tear open with the grin curling.

   “Yes.”

   Little, pretty bells chimed in the ruffles of his garment as he laughed. Soft and sweeter than any sound in this world.

   "Who are you?"

   "Pennywise. The dancing clown." He caught her looking at the body behind his feet.

   Big eyes full and empty.

   “Oh, don’t worry about him, he won’t float.” The clown paused. “You’re a little wonder, aren’t you?”

   She said nothing to that.

   “Go on, grow and see if the world devours you. Tumble back to the weeds where I'll find you again.” His own curiosity was a growing sickness. This fragile human. Unbreakable. 

   The thing about Pennywise was he never considered himself the villain. He only came to feed when that evil and hatred humans brought this world was potent. Natural order. Clockwork. Wolves feed on sheep. The worlds spun on.

   Predators tore into prey, he wouldn’t apologize for that. He didn’t create the hatred, just fed from it. Didn't stop it either. Little dash of fear did a body good. Gave it a sweeter taste.

   Fear was painfully human. A trait that tore us open to display the soft underbelly because it betrayed us down to the core. Granted us something to overcome. A test of endurance. Truly let our true colors pour fresh and obscene. Beautiful. Even when it overcame.

   Pennywise gave her head a pat, leaned down to whisper into her ear.

   “I see into your blackest heart of hearts, Nelly, deep down you’ll know. You'll always know.”

   The door opened. Tiny footsteps away from the dark and the figure there always watching her. Like the stars above in a black sky.

   “You’ll know.”

   Eleanor walked downstairs. Out into the sunny day full of festivities and family. Asked her aunt for another piece of cake. Frosted with yellow buttercream flowers. They discovered her uncle in that closet at the same time the flies found him too.

   They found the cloth clutched into his meaty, stiff hand and began to ask questions. She didn’t want to talk about the secret games he played when she was in that house. They sent a bolt of thunder rattling into her brain. Unraveled the synapses.

   Her mother burned the cloth. Vowed to never speak of it in hopes she would forget. Children forgot things all the time.

   Nell never forgot. Not for a moment. Not her uncle or her festering relatives who seemed to easily put her in the back of their memories.

   She wanted them to always remember too. If anything, they owed her that much.

   The pictures her mind fleshed out with crayons were not what children should be drawing. Twisted bodies sometimes. Other days, it was those eyes. Molten lava. Mother and father decided this wasn’t something they could deal with. Seeing her looking so still and motionless around the house like a ghost was too much. Knowing they failed their daughter was just too much. A lock clicked.

   They put her in a place that watched over mistakes of all ages from rich families. Paid it well. They told Eleanor it wasn’t her fault and yet, she was the one locked away in a tower for it. She was the one ignored and doped up.

   Ten years and she gave them nothing. Years of homeschooling. Counseling. Medications. Years of sticking her tongue out to swear she’d swallowed her pills. Years of giving them nothing. No laughter or tears. She never hurt a fly and she was the monster.

   Sometimes, it was easier to become the monster they wanted, she supposed.

   Eleanor got out and married the first man who smiled at her. Called her pretty. Just to be away from mother and father. They’d rot in the weeds soon enough. The rest of her family dwindled. Terrible accidents. She vowed to never reproduce to spite them.

   Husband played games too when dinner wasn’t just right or when she dressed just a little against his wishes. Seven miscarriages. Too many broken promises. A car accident pulled his body apart. Left her with some money to return home. 

   Mother and father needed her now, sick and dying in their lavish beds. Life always went on in Derry. Father went still snug in his tomb a month later. Few more weeks and mother’s harsh insults became apologies.

   This girl she ignored was all she had left.

   “Nell, I hope you can forgive us.” Her mother croaked one day.

   “You’re free to do that, mama.” She’d turned and came to sit on the bed.

   “Do what, my dear?”

   “Hope.” Eleanor tucked some brittle hair from mother’s face. Made room for the pillow she pushed into place. Eight minutes and it was over. Twenty seven years and members of her family dropped like flies. She told herself it was a curse. Or fate.

   Bloodlines dying had never been so beautiful. Not built to last forever. Not at all. There was justice in that much.

   Both Eleanor’s parents became ashes in two ornate urns. She drove them out to the Barrens and poured them into the festering waters. Stinking of Derry’s rotten bowels. Wind swept. Picking up green and brown leaves. Wading the waters to give them some appearance of peace.

   Nell didn’t smell the stink of death. She smelt the circus. Hot buttery popcorn and cotton candy. Twang of metal from the old, rusted rides whirling all directions. A child’s laughter echoed out from the giant pipe ahead. Covered in sludge and moss. 

   She followed the lively sounds. Enticed. No long holding to this world. Another one awaited. It always had. Marked with two glowing orange eyes.

   Reminded her of the lights twinkling every Halloween. Jack-o-lanterns you couldn’t blow out before midnight because it was against the rules and would bring you bad luck.

   Through watery rot and dead leaves, Nell went into the pipes. Caught glimmers of light between cracks. Felt her way. Heard the uttering of the seven children she lost beckoning her home.

   Down.

   Down.

   Down.

   Ruined her clothes in the trance. Clawing for more because the world couldn’t hope to deliver. Into a massive nest with a skylight. Candlelight danced. She heard the trill of a music box until the room came alive. Whirled from rust and rot to marble and gold.

   Prettier than her wedding day. A church with decorated pews of red taffeta. White roses hanging from every corner. Petals crying into the cherry wood floors.

   A man smiled at her who wasn’t Husband. Sharp, brooding face. Swept brown locks slicked like Clark Gable. Pink lips curled and crystalline eyes gave a twinkle. A white suit and one red rose at his breast.

   She came to him when he reached. Body heavier because a dress dragged behind her. Full skirt of those same delicate white roses. Tight bodice that twinkled under candlelight. Nell smiled too. Utterly lost and found all at once in this room that smelled like decadent caramel apples. 

   A gloved hand curled into hers.

   “Am I dead?” She asked.

   “Oh, yes. For twenty seven years now. You wandered the Earth. But, you're home now.” That voice. All shivers. Chilling until the candles started to snuff out. “That was not life, Nelly. You existed by a thread.”

   “Nelly.” She mused in her deepest dream of dreams. The hate and the neglect and the sheer evil brought by humans who were supposed love and protect instead tore her soul far asunder.

   The man leaned in near her hair. Inhaled.

   “Nothing. Even still.” He recounted the memories. All those times he tried and failed to devour her. “Little wonder.”

   "Pennywise." She puffed, barely audible.

   “I watched you dance. All those years. You can dance down here too in the dark."

   Nell realized as he brought her out for a romantic spin. She’d been seeking him out all her life. All the decay and twisting vines in her soul. Begging to just cross over and stop this pain. But, he wouldn’t finish it because she had no fear. So she danced until the room began to peel. He wiped his cheek on one sleeve. Peachy makeup smeared the fabric to display that red smile upon white skin. 

   She pushed off him. Watched blood rain and melt the rest of it away. This place. A nest. A stomach. A pile of trash and metal twisted up toward the sky. Gouging. Figures floating around it. Waiting. Sleeping soundly because evil couldn’t touch them anymore. At the very least. They fueled something brand new.

   No cry. No scream. Nell succumbed. Stumbling back into a worn mattress as the clown crawled up toward her at some inhuman speed. Slapped his hands on either side of her head. They just breathed.

   Existed together in one space.

   Sometimes good and bravery didn’t blossom from overcoming fear. Sometimes you still wanted to die because enduring a lifelong ache was not growth. It just hurt. There was power in it, but it fucking ached.

   It burned. Plenty of things in her life burned. The scorn of her parents. Her uncle's games. The rotten nurses tossing her around. Husband's hands indenting skin.

   But, Pennywise didn’t. He just showed up to watch the fires grow hot and breathless into a black sky. The terrible view was still a breathtaking thing. Something shattering to become a supernova. Rebirth.

   Enduring pain was worth it. That sick curiosity that there was something more to life. It was worth it. So, fight. Endure. Ache. Be human while you have the chance in an inhuman world because it needs you.

   Gloves opened her dress. Tore layers of tulle and chiffon. Slashed silk. Hands pressed against his chest. Not pushing or pulling. Just holding. Shifting over thick, stitched cotton. Ruffles swayed. She felt a heart beat so hard there under her palm.

   He was alive. Something brand new. Not of this world.

   “Am I like you?” She begged finally. Years of searching and asking why. He stopped to see her green eyes. Glowered. One blue, one orange.

   “Not yet.” Was the truest answer he could form. Fingers gripped his fabric sleeves. Twisted just to hold onto something tangible for the first time in all her existence. Alive at last in this place. Water droplets echoed distantly. “You cannot last forever. Nothing lasts forever.”

   Except love, she thought. Except desire.

   Pennywise seemed to hear it even still. Felt the truth of it carve out his heart that was still beating powerfully. Profoundly.

   Something flayed her open. Pushed inside. Made her moan deliciously until two gloved fingers touched her mouth. Bodies connecting. Moving together.

   There were hands everywhere. Stroking soft caresses up and down her naked flesh. It felt like a million little pieces of candlelight were swirling up her body. Those same orbs that had been following her around for too many years shined behind his eyes. Resonated. Beautiful.

   She made out parts of him between thumps. Orange hair. Pristine paint. His mouth on her skin. A heart that was pumping vigorously. Low rumbling growls. Nell felt she’d been starved all her life and was finally feeding. Finally letting the ache flood out that she’d held onto for too long. Finally alive. Feeling. Deep down and drawing in it.

   Her voice came to beg for more of him. Hands grasping to touch him back. To delve into this earth and just feel. He touched her everywhere. Lips and neck. Down her breasts. Between spread legs.

   The combined sensations made her cry out for him to never stop. A gloved hand on her jaw brought their eyes together. Hot, wet touch. Boiling. The peak shattered them both. Nell fell to shuddering pieces. Curved up. Moaning and shameless. Weight fell into her body so lips could touch her own. Once. Just once while they were warm.

   Pennywise lifted off fully to see her eyes. Inhaled again and got what he’d sought too. Years and it was finally there.

   Those green eyes glimmered at him. A waft of sweet candied apples bubbled with heat. Fear. Clear as a crystal, dewy morning. It was the most beautiful thing in the world.

   There was finally something found that could be lost. Something she sought out and held and hoped for.

   And the fear of losing it was almost too much to bear.

   One gloved finger caught a tear that trickled out from the corner of her eyes.

   “Please.” She said, unable to find much else. Like she wanted him and nothing else for the rest of these long days. Do it. Just do it. Nell’s hand lifted. Gentle fingers drew lines along his face. "Pennywise. Please."

   It was a soft prayer.

   He lunged down. Sunk teeth into her tender neck. Tore the scream out before she could hope to give it. Nell choked there. Made an odd sound like she was laughing. It bubbled. Claws grew out from those gloves. Shoved forth into her raging heart. 

   A squelch.

   Her lips were still upturned when it was done. Green eyes pointed on him. Peaceful and bloodied. Naked under the moonlight. Dripping rubies.

   He tossed his head back and wailed. Teeth sharp and bared. Bloodied. Lost. A shattering sound that bent time and space apart. Pennywise plucked her up. Climbed high and vast to the very top of the twisting pile. Watched the dead children float like little falling stars. Something to make wishes upon. Peaceful for only a second in this life.

   He placed her there in a sheer drape. Closed her eyes. Let the deadlights swelter above them. Spinning all directions. 

   A scar thickened.

   Three days passed. The deadlights danced high and wide. Fluttering like a swarm of butterflies. The world spun on a new axis. Pennywise sat below upon his stage. Curved over in wait. Marble statue. 

   A low rumble like a purr erupted. Dainty feet came to him with a newfound grace. Little dancer. Deadly ballerina all porcelain and blushed. Blood red shoes made soft taps across the stage.

   A white hand touched his shoulder. His little wonder. Bells tolled distantly three times.

   “Can you smell the circus?” Her voice poured white hot. Purring louder so he'd feel it vibrate his own chest.

   Lips curled wide. Split. Pennywise rose to see her in the light. Perfection. Those green eyes shimmering like emeralds. Haunted. Totally alive and willing.

   “Yes.” He hissed. Cupping her face to see the angles. Not ruining the permanent brushstrokes that came with her rebirth. “Yes, I do.” A bond struck.

   I do. I promise. We'll float. Always.

   Nell smiled to match him. Totally and irrevocably his equal. A pulse of light drew them together. She granted him a single kiss, tasting candied. A new horror in this world hungry for the evil it would always bring.

   “We were built to last forever.”

[starryseo]

a rose for you. | seo changbin

pairing ↠ changbin x gn!reader genre ↠ fluff ! bin is a cutie !! wc ↠ 2200 summary ↠ changbin can be a sweetheart sometimes. warnings ↠ swearing, suggestive remarks a/n ↠ a less chaotic day for the pair, but i enjoyed writing smth calmer. enjoy!

series masterlist

"You got any plans later today?" Changbin asked as he lazed on the sofa, switching between several animal documentaries on tv - Nat Geo’s big cat week shows were a blessing to this planet.

You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a breakfast bar as you answered, "Nope, why?"

"Because it's Valentine's day."

"So?"

"So," he drawled, dropping the remote and facing you as you headed towards the door, "I thought someone would try swoopin' in for your booty."

"Why do you always say weird shit, man," you rolled your eyes, "But no, I'm free. You?"

"Shut up you love it," he grinned, "I'm free too, baby, we'll go out later."

"Sure, sure, see ya later."

"Bye, have fun!" Changbin called out just as you left. He would leave for his class in an hour but, until then, he’d happily watch whatever cat fights were on screen.

You had about ten minutes before your lecture would start so you made your way to the building's entrance where Felix was already waiting for you. You envied Changbin's timetable since he wasn't plagued with 9am classes this term, but Felix was always bright and excited which made early mornings slightly more bearable. 

That, and he had bought hot chocolate for you today.

You thanked him as you took the drink, the heat instantly warming your hands up nicely - a contrast to the bitter February chill that tinged your fingers. 

When he also gave you a rose, you raised a brow.

"The guy selling 'em said he'd give me free drinks if I bought loads, so," he grinned, "I bought, like, 50 roses. Have another!"

"Nope, I'm good, thanks." You laughed when he showed you the inside of his bag; you could barely see his laptop and notebooks peeking out from behind all the flowers. "You're such a dumbass."

"I'm trying to be romantic here," he retorted, following you into the lecture hall. "I don't know who else to give these to, though. I have, like, 8.5 friends."

"Who's the half friend?"

"Seungmin. I'm pretty sure he's tried to kill me, but he helped me out yesterday so…" He shrugged, "I think we're cool."

"I'm pretty sure if Seungmin really wanted you dead, you wouldn't still be here so you've got 9."

Felix nodded, murmuring, "Yeah, you're right," just before the lecturer called for your attention.

At the end of the lecture, you packed up slowly. You stifled a yawn - because staying awake through 2 hours of algorithm talk was exhausting - swinging your bag over your shoulder before you headed down the steps to the front doors to leave.

"Wait, hold up," Felix said, nudging you to the side of the lecture hall. You watched as he ran to the lecturer, digging through his bag to pull out a rose. You snickered when he held it out to your lecturer, the awkward half-grimace on their face making you burst out into laughter. You laughed even more when you heard him exclaim, "I don't love you like that!"

Your lecturer just nodded, eyes pleading for Felix to just leave before he made the situation more inappropriate. He stumbled back to you hastily, cheeks bright and pink which had you chuckling all over again. "So smooth, Lix."

"Not a word to the others."

You zipped your lips, wishing you could've recorded that moment.

After the rest of your classes were done, you headed back to your room. Felix had run off to meet Hyunjin - wanting to add to the inevitable collection of roses the other would have; for as long as you’d known Hyunjin, the boy had received an abundance of chocolates, roses and love letters on this fated day. He hated the attention but loved the gifts, though you weren’t complaining because he’d always share with you.

You’d have about an hour to yourself before Changbin would come home and destroy your peace. You had perfected your schedule: put the kettle on as soon as you got home, spend three minutes changing into jogging bottoms and a hoodie (one you’d stolen from Hyunjin, but you’re pretty sure it’s actually Chan’s), use the now-heated water to cook some instant noodles, gather whatever other food you were craving, load up the next episode of The Office, carry everything into the living room, and, finally, be lazy as shit. In just under fifteen minutes, you had done everything, wrapping a blanket around yourself to be more comfortable.

Time flew by and, before you knew it, Changbin was bursting through the door, yelling, “Honey, I’m home!”

You greeted him, eyes still on the screen and he made his way next to you, dumping his bag on the floor. “No noodles for me?” He pouted, and you offered the dorito in your hand to him as compensation. He took a bite of the crisp straight from your hand - the savage - before leaning back, arm running along the sofa behind you so he could drape himself over you. “You’re paying for dinner now.”

“Guess we’re starving then,” you shrugged, resting your head on his shoulder. You opened up your blanket and he pulled it over himself too, snuggling into the warmth.

“Could you be any more romantic?” He fake-swooned, fluttering his lashes before he stared at you dully. “Don’t places do discounts for couples today?”

“No? If anything, they’d up the prices because people’ll feed into their commercialism, lovestruck dumbasses.”

“Right, sorry, forgot I was dealing with the V-Day Grinch; you need to get laid. Seriously.”

“Sorry for not wanting to bend over for capitalist pigs, Bin.”

“You can bend over-”

“I swear to God-”

“Okay!” He backed away when you hit him before he could finish his lewd remark, “Takeout then, if you don’t want me to spoil you?”

“I thought I was gonna buy dinner, though.”

“Yeah, you never do on Valentine’s. Breaks my heart every year,” he says, sighing dramatically, “I just wanna be wooed.” He even presses the back of his hand to his forehead, swooning backwards, his brows pinching forlornly.

“Lix would be more than glad to do that,” you rolled your eyes, batting his hand away when he pretended to rub away his tears.

He scoffed, “Damn right he would, you should be jealous.”

“I’m green with envy. Green. Greener than the hulk, that’s how green I am, I’m-”

“Okay, fuck, no need to be so condescending, babe,” he pouted. “Punch me, it’d hurt less.”

You don’t understand why he cried out when you did as he asked, but whatever. You rubbed the sore spot to appease him. The baby.

“And to think,” he said, his lips still downturned into a small pout, “I went out of my way to get you something.”

“Aww, I’m sorry, Binnie,” you cooed, “What’d you get me?”

He grumbled but bent down to reach his bag regardless. He pulled out a slightly-squashed rose from his bag, biting down on the stem before he turned to you, a brow raised seductively.

You snorted, pushing his face away before he opened his mouth, the flower dropping easily into his hand. He held it out to you, fully expecting you to take his offering.

You grimaced. “I’m not taking that, it was just in your mouth.”

“You jealous of that, too?”

“Of course,” you shook your head, “How’d you know?”

“Always knew you wanted to smooch me,” he grinned before leaning impossibly close to you. “Now’s your chance, sweetheart,” he said, puckering his lips exaggeratedly, making disgustingly-loud kissing noises to make matters worse.

“Ew,” you groaned, “I’d rather kiss the ground.”

“Be my guest,” he said, sweeping his arm out, gesturing to the floor. You rolled your eyes, getting up - for a split second Changbin thought you might actually do it, before he realised you were heading to your school bag.

You sat down besides him again, looking for something within.

When you handed him a slightly-bent rose, he chuckled. “Felix?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, “he got ‘em in the morning.”

“Yeah, he showed me,” Changbin said, shaking his head fondly, before accepting the rose. He put his bag back on his lap, showing you its contents. “He gave me, like, five before he ran off.”

He tucked the rose you had just given to him behind your ear, murmuring cute. He shot you a quick wink before grinning and leaning back. You rolled your eyes at his antics, facing him to do the same. But when the flower was perched atop his ear safely, you scrunched your nose, mumbling gross.

He flicked your side and you snickered, “I’m kidding, stop being a baby.”

“You better be kidding,” he huffed.

You watched several more episodes of The Office before his stomach started growling, desperate for food. 

Instead of ordering takeaway like usual - because you were university kids, of course cheap fast foods were your go-to - you decided to heat up some frozen pasta and whip up a nice sauce. Changbin had helped to the best of his (limited) ability, before you sent him away, telling him to clear the living room and set up the table instead.

You listened to Changbin as he rapped along to the song, going quiet when he started to sing too. These moments were rare - he didn’t sing nearly as often as he rapped - but it was stunning listening to the way he carried the melody so well. He couldn’t cut basil to save his life, but he had the voice of an angel - life had a funny way of balancing talents like that.

He didn’t stop until the song ended and when the next played, he hummed along instead.

“Damn,” you sighed, “Here I thought you were gonna start serenading me.”

“Maybe next year, baby,” he smiled, leaning against the counter beside you as you finished mixing the pasta with its sauce. “But only if we actually go out then.”

“What if I have plans next Valentine’s?” He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, and you scoffed at his insinuation. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” he smirked.

“You never have to.”

When you turned around to put the pot on the table, you laughed at the way he had set the table. He had put 2 roses in a glass, placing it at the table’s centre, with the other roses shaped in a heart around the glass. He had even lit a small candle, the smell of vanilla meekly peeking out behind your pasta sauce’s aroma. 

“It’s beautiful,” you said, lips lilting into an easy smile. You hadn’t expected him to do anything more than put a couple of plates and forks on the table, but the set-up was cute and greatly appreciated. You put the pot down before going to sit down.

“Of course it is, I did it,” he quipped, pushing your chair in behind you. You rolled your eyes at him.

You could never be truly annoyed at his constant teasing - especially not when he would suddenly switch to being endearing; moments like these - playful but calm, easy-going yet fun - were ones you cherished, and with Changbin around, you were never disappointed.

“Dinner by candlelight, what did I do to deserve this?”

“I did this for me, not for you,” he grinned, taking a large bite of the pasta. “S’real good, babe.”

“You’re such a pig,” you said, scrunching your nose as sauce trickled down his chin. He used his tongue to lick it away and you laughed when he struggled to reach it all. He gave up, wiping it away with his hand before he licked that too. “Such a pig.”

He winked.

After a rather peaceful dinner, Changbin washed the dishes (on his own accord!) as you put away the leftover pasta and tidied the table.

You took out a half-empty tub of ice cream, spraying whipped cream over the dessert. When Changbin was done cleaning, he got out chocolate chips and sprinkles, drizzling the toppings over as well. You grabbed two spoons as he carried the sugary monstrosity over to the living room, wrapping the blankets around the both of you as you held the tub in your lap.

You ate the sweet treat, relishing in the crunch of the sprinkles.

Changbin grimaced and his wince made you giggle when he groaned, “Brain freeze. Ouch.”

“Aww, poor baby,” you pouted, “I’ll suffer instead.” You pulled the tub more to you so he couldn’t reach and he shook his head fondly.

“I’m here for a good time, not a long time, sweetheart,” he said, pinching your hip, gently, so you’d flinch. He used that as his chance to snatch the ice cream tub back, happily taking a large scoop and opening his mouth wide - he became the embodiment of :O.

He shivered as he swallowed, scrunching up his face and you laughed at him again. “Worth it.”

When the ice cream was finished, you rested against Changbin’s shoulder and he naturally let his head droop to lean against yours.

You don’t remember when you fell asleep, the voices on tv becoming a blurry murmur as you slowly drifted off. You do, however, remember waking up in the middle of the night, warm arms embracing you from behind.

That was a nice feeling.

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

HELLO I'M BACK!! GUESS WHO HAS A TERM BREAK COMING IN A FEW DAYS I'M VERY HAPPY :D this ask is Very Long so i'm going to split it up into a few parts

part 1/2

But honestly, it would probably be something like “I’m going to bring a (dead) chicken to class for show and tell and you two need to act horrified and cause a ruckus because it would be fun and it would scare the other kids :)”. (this is probably bullying, so in an effort to make them slightly better kids, an alternative plot is that a stray cat has been coming to their school and in order to make friends with it, they feed it a whole-ass dead chicken Nyo China got from the butchers and was planning to cook for dinner. The teachers are horrified and confiscate Yao’s backpack for fear of germs and salmonella.)

hhhhhh the first idea is SO FUN my gremlin repressed anger eight year old self would've loved it. the idea of bringing a stinking plastic bag to school, opening it, revealing a dead, fly-infested chicken and then maybe playing a small game of lobbing the chicken around for funsies is both simultaneously horrifying and amazing. however the second idea is also amazing, one of my previous schools had stray cats and staff and students would feed and pet them (and i miss it :( ) and it was the Best feeling... or maybe they could do BOTH? but this time they're planning to bring a dead chicken to feed the cat (aw, even if yao probably gets detention. also a lecture from nyo china on what exactly you should feed a cat, including why you shouldn't steal the chicken she bought to feed it.) and the next time they can bring like. a bunch of dead flies to show their classmates but in a not bully way. i went once to this family friend's house in a part of the countryside that had an abundance of flies. (i literally haven't thought of this in years i'm remembering so many childhood things because of this omg) they had this paper covered with glue that the flies would land on and then be stuck on the paper. it was both disgusting and amazing to watch a black mass of bulbous bodies straining with their legs (which were probably thinner than my hair) to escape the paper. i also think that indchuran, being both little sadists in the making and having an abudnace of fascination like many children, would take great delight in watching an unsuspecting fly landing on the glue, watch it still, glancing around eerily similarly to when humans realise they have gotten themselves in a bad situation, and then start struggling with all their might to get out. but fuck the flies tho they landed on our food all the time there and it sucked. they can die :)

THE PROBELM is... how will they get that many flies in what i assume would be a gentrified ass area with frequent fumigation efforts given that nyo china would not accept anything than the best elementary education for her ward?? (i have a solution) maybe indus has friends in the countryside and she goes with aditya to visit them. and while they are talking aditya wanders about and discovers a few pieces of paper filled with flies. because he is a gremlin, he is Fascinated with these pieces of paper, and he takes one out to Further Examine. all the adults yell at him, but he is Fascinated and will not be stopped. and then a Thought occurs to him: who would probably enjoy this as much as he would? duh, his friends of course! good things must be Shared even if they're kind of disgusting! so what he does is he gets a disposable plastic tupperware like container, very gently places the fly paper into it, pokes a few holes for air, sprinkles some sugar because he thinks that'll keep them alive, and wraps most of it up in duct tape he found so indus can't see it. unfortunately most of the flies died on the way home because the container was stuffed into aditya's bag and the paper slid to the side + there wasn't enough air, BUT the dead flies are still a Sight to behold when he visits iran's house (which yao is /coincidentally/ visiting) to show them. then he brings it to school after the weekend, and everyone is Fascinated and thinks it is Very Cool, at least until the teachers see it and start screaming. they throw it away but indchuran get an Idea to put dead flies into the bags of people they hate (this is now just bullying) so that opens up a very few interesting weeks of attempts to collect flies in a fumigated city and Horror for the school. fun times for all!

😔 finding and reading that encyclopedia is probably one of my formative memories now and i wish it wasn't 😔 i bet yao during his teenage years would look back on it and be like "... oh my GOD." but i think he would appreciate her directness even if he didn't absorb all the information correctly or remember most of it lmao because it seems like only a very small percentage of the world has actually good sex ed and i don't think indchuran's school would be an exception. at least nyo china like you said instilled a good sense of consent with them 😔 also the idea of saying fuck in mandarin makes me break out in hives the AUDACITY of saying fuck in your first language but of course he would. he WOULD. nyo china probably wouldn't even have purposely taught him that which is why he doesn't know what it means, just that it's an insult, but once they come up to her to complain all she does is give them a Terrifying Contemptuous Glare and steer yao away from them. yao is her kid and therefore entitled to say fuck whenever he wants.

Prev

First things first I hope you had a good term break! this is... very overdue sorry about that :(

Second, ALSK:FJ:SLFDKSFDLKJSLDF the fly infested chicken is disgusting and I want so badly to intervene,,, they need hELP. Please learn about proper sanitation, children, I’m begging you T-T. Also, headcanon accepted: they’re ostensibly bringing it to feed the cats (which is hopefully allowed) but also they want to terrorize (or awe) their fellow classmates with this discovery. Watch the school call up nyo china about this, but she gets annoyed only because yao wasted human food in order to feed cats, not because he brought an inappropriately dead chicken to school that scared the younger kids and fellow classmates lol; what a great value system. Also this scenario def happened:  School: your child got in a fight. Nyo China: Oh no! Did he win?

I am both fully revolted and half fascinated by the flypaper thing because on one hand I CANNOT stand flies, and killing them is 178% gross. But also the way you described it is... very compelling and I would like to experience that, gross as it is lol. So yea I can definitely see those three nastily observing the flies getting stuck to the flypaper one by one... they all intently watch the flypaper with round and curious eyes and it really looks very cute from far away, three heads of fluffy hair close together and bent over something, carrying on an animated whispered discussion, until you get closer and see that they’re watching flies on flypaper •—•;; An even more gross scenario would be if one of them accidentally squashes one and they crowd around to see what fly guts look like 😭 bonus points if it happens during school. Also YES to Indus’s countryside friend; I feel like India would have a lot of fun exploring over there and would be able to bring back v cool stories for city slicker Yao, and also Iran (although I don’t know where they’d live precisely. I feel like they’d probably have a medium sized house with very nice art and Classy furniture (they got good taste from somewhere), but they’d also knows a lot about how rural areas work and stuff, so uh.. suburbs? Or something like that?)

“then he brings it to school after the weekend, and everyone is Fascinated and thinks it is Very Cool. . .” O—O sigh... three balls of absolute chaos. At least the other kids are fascinated this time instead of apprehensive ^-^ but the dead flies in lockers AL:KDSLFDSJF PLEASE NO me as an elementary student would have been absolutely horrified and I. really hope they get detention for that lol; Please Tone Down kids 😔 (also do y’all get flies in the lights at school? Because every single classroom I’ve been in has either had flies, wasps, moths, or some other black spots in the lights and they’d multiply as the year went on 😭 I never thought about it too much but... what if they linger around to watch the lights get cleaned? o-o)

“i bet yao during his teenage years would look back on it and be like "... oh my GOD."” YEAH there’s always a select few memories that make you realize “what even WAS that” and I think this is one lol. Yao just buries it in the back of his spacious mental closet and makes India and Iran swear not to bring it up again but inevitably they do :))))) they find it rather hilarious, actually. Also yes at least Nyo China did a good job in that department!

“also the idea of saying fuck in mandarin makes me break out in hives the AUDACITY of saying fuck in your first language but of course he would” lol I wrote that thinking he'd call someone a 王八* (because it could technically pass as a regular noun o-o. Who knows, maybe he was insulting someone for being slow like a turtle but it got out of hand due to word choice lol) but... the second scenario is quite something... I don't know whether I should laugh or cry. RIP the other parents who just have to fervently hope that disgraceful kid from next door grows out of his foul mouth soon (he never does, just gets better at pretending his language is elegant and not at all dirty XD)

*for non mandarin speakers 王八 is literally a soft shelled turtle, but is actually a pretty big insult in mandarin :)

[kakyoinsfacialscarring]

My first Nishinatsu fic. Trying to get in the habit of writing fanfiction because I’m about to graduate and become unemployed so I’ll have a lot of free time. Crossposted to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744874

Nishimura doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. Natsume was perfectly fine just minutes ago on their walk home, and now Nishimura’s having to dive to keep his head from hitting the ground too hard.

It had been a relatively normal night, by Natsume standards. They had had to stay late after school to help plan for the upcoming school festival, and as they began to leave Nishimura noticed the sun had already started to set.

“My moms gonna kill me.” he whined. “Why does it feel like these days are never-ending, we just wake up, go to school, go home and do chores. We never have time for fun anymore.”

“That’s not true,” Natsume smiled, “we went fishing on Saturday for the whole day.”

Nishimura scoffed. “That was ages ago!”

“It’s Tuesday.” Natsume laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Nishimura tried to ignore the swooping feeling in his gut and the heat rising to his cheeks. He scowled.

“Easy for you to say. I’m sure Touko-san lets you do whatever you want when you get home and feeds you a bunch of yummy food, like the stuff she packs for your lunches.”

He glanced at Natsume again and saw him looking at the sunset with a pensive expression. They had reached the entrance to the school and Nishimura found himself hesitant for their paths to divert.

Well I’m already late, He thought, what's a few extra minutes?

“We’d better get going if you’re gonna be home before dark.”

Natsume turned and looked at him, already knowing where he was going with this. “Nishimura, you’re already late.”

Nishimura rolled his eyes and began walking in the direction of Natsume’s house. “Exactly. I’m already late so it doesn’t matter what time I get back.”

Natsume quickly caught up to him and Nishimura felt himself smirk slightly at the annoyed look on his face.

He talked about nothing while they walked, just complaining about cram school and laughing at how Kitamoto had dropped his drink on the girl he liked at lunch today. In the beginning of their friendship, Nishimura talked nonstop about girls. Especially when Taki was introduced to their small group of friends. But recently, he found himself unable to talk about crushes in front of Natsume, and his feelings for Taki had diminished to just thinking she was cute. Because a large part of him knew that when Natsume’s smile reached his eyes, or when Nishimura made him laugh and he ducked behind his bangs, he had very similar thoughts about Natsume that he did about the girls he used to talk about.

Natsume hummed and responded at all the right moments, but as they continued walking and it became darker Nishimura noticed that he was becoming less and less responsive, his eyes flicking to the forest next to the pathway. It was not unusual for Natsume to be distracted, but Nishimura felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he watched him and tried to follow his eyes.

The more they walked, the darker it got. He had the creepiest feeling and kept glancing at Natsume, who had started walking faster. He strided forward to keep up and didn’t complain. He always got the feeling that if Natsume was looking over your shoulder at something, it was a good idea not to turn around. And if Natsume was running from something, it was a good idea to pick up the pace.

Suddenly, a flash of wind zoomed past him and seemed to hit Natsume right in the chest. He was knocked back a few steps and swayed where he stood. Nishimura wasn’t surprised by how quick his reflexes were now after being friends with Natsume for over a year, but again. He’d never get used to this. His adrenaline spiked as all the color drained from Natsume’s face and his eyelids fluttered.

“Woah woah-“

Nishimura rushed forward and grabbed him under the arms and tried to lower them to the ground slowly. Natsume chose that moment to go completely limp and Nishimura went down with him, his arms straining under the dead weight. They were at an awkward angle with Natsume’s legs bent beneath him and his head against Nishimura’s chest. Nishimura tried to adjust them so that he could see Natsume’s face.

“Natsume.” Nishimura called shakily. He tilted Natsume’s head back and his heart clenched as his head lolled. He quickly used his hand to lift Natsume’s head back up against his shoulder, his other hand supporting his back. “Natsume, come on.” He said again, keeping his hand on his face and running his thumb over his cheekbone. Natsume’s face was slack and he was a little warm to the touch, but not enough to cause him to collapse. Under the streetlight he was so pale that he looked like a ghost. Nishimura adjusted them again and shook Natsume’s shoulder gently. There was no way he could carry him home completely unconscious.

“Natsume wake up, come on bud.” He tried one last time, seeing some movement behind his eyelids. His eyebrows scrunched up and Nishimura allowed the worry to take over and smoothed over his eyebrow with his thumb. He’d have time to be embarrassed about it later.

Natsume’s eyes blinked open slowly and Nishimura felt something unclench in his chest and let out a breath. “You with me?”

“Satoru?” Natsume’s voice was soft and his eyelids fluttered, and Nishimura could tell he wasn’t quite awake yet by how unfocused his eyes were.

“Yeah. Just take a minute to wake up a little bit.” He said softly, not wanting to startle him. Natsume blinked some more and cleared his throat as he became more aware of his surroundings. He finally looked up at Nishimura who smiled in relief, though his brows were still furrowed in concern. Natsume stared back at him with color rising back to his cheeks.

“You alright?” Nishimura asked nervously after a moment of silence. Worried that the flushing was the sign of his fever rising, he moved his hand from cradling Natsume’s head to press it against Natsume’s forehead.

“I’m alright,” Natsume started to sit up, still leaning against Nishimura for support. “Sorry.” He winced as he moved his legs from where they’d been bent uncomfortably.

“Don’t apologize, that wind was pretty strong. It came out of nowhere.” Nishimura smiled nervously as his hand hovered against Natsume’s lower back. He noticed Natsume’s eyes dart away from him, a telltale sign that Nishimura had come to pick up on to mean he was hiding something from him.

“Yeah, it did. Still, I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Nishimura joked, immediately cursing his stupid mouth when Natsume grimaced. “Are you feeling better?”

“I-“ Natsume glanced at him and seemed to come to the conclusion he wouldn’t get out of the question with an 'I’m fine'. “I’m a little dizzy, but I’ll be alright.”

Nishimura sighed and took a moment to take in their surroundings. It was completely dark out now, and though they weren’t near any houses he knew they were a short walk from Natsume’s house. There was a streetlight a few steps from them that illuminated their immediate area, but the forest across the path was dark and ominous. Nishimura shivered and unconsciously tightened his grip on Natsume’s waist, pulling him closer to him.

“Sensei?”

Nishimura turned his attention back to Natsume, who’s attention was on his very fat cat sitting a few paces today, glaring at them. Nishimura didn’t know how he didn’t notice him, although his focus on Natsume had been pretty intense.

Nishimura scowled right back at it. “Oi Nyanko, aren’t you supposed to protect him from scary winds? Where were you?” Natsume whipped his head around and stared at him with wide eyes. “What? I’m not stupid. That cats like your service animal or your bodyguard or something, I swear.” Nishimura joked. “And don’t whip your head like that when you’re dizzy.” He added when Natsume’s eyes fluttered slightly and he leaned more into Nishimura’s chest. Nishimura felt himself flush slightly and thought he heard a scoff nearby, but when he looked up he only saw the fat cat shifting to walk closer to them. It put its paw on Natsume’s leg, its eyes narrowing as it looked between them and the forest.

“We should probably get you home.” Nishimura said, following the cats eyes. “On a scale of 1 to 10 how likely is it that you’ll faint if you stand up right now?”

Natsume cut a glare at him and pushed off his chest, kneeling to stand on his own. Nishimura quickly grabbed his arm and helped him stand up. He swayed slightly, so Nishimura grasped his other arm tightly as well. When he looked up they were very close together, their breath intermingling. Natsume’s face was flushed again, and Nishimura wanted to get him home as quickly as possible.

“Come on.” He said, draping Natsume’s arm around his shoulder, noticing the couple of inches between their heights. “You’ve grown since we met, no fair Natsume.” Nishimura whined, starting to guide them in the direction of the Fujiwara house. “You’re not allowed to grow anymore until I catch up.”

Natsume let out a breath, almost a laugh. “I don’t see that happening.”

“Don’t make me drop you.”

————

Touko was reasonably worried when they walked through the door so late, especially with Natsume as pale as he was. She rushed to him and fretted immediately, smoothing his bangs out of his face and checking his temperature. Nishimura never let go of the hold he had around Natsume’s waist and the hand around his shoulder. Somewhere along the walk, he had gone from holding his wrist tightly to keep him balanced to their hands being clasped together. Nishimura could feel his hands sweating.

“Thank you for getting him home safely, Satoru.” Touko said, turning to him and clasping his cheeks. “I’m going to put on some tea and get him some water, would you mind taking him upstairs?”

“Yes ma’am.” She patted his cheek and turned to the kitchen, with one last worried look to Natsume. Nyanko waddled after her with his bell ringing, seemingly unworried now that the door was closed behind them.

“You’re so late already, I can head up on my own. I’m alright-“ Natsume started, attempting to detach himself from Nishimura. Nishimura tightened his hold again.

“I don’t care.” He said nonchalantly, kicking off his shoes. “I mean, my mom doesn’t care. I was exaggerating earlier. She probably won’t even notice I’m gone. I’ll get the same amount of ear full no matter what time I get home.” He shrugged and looked down, nudging Natsume so they could start their trek up the stairs. He glanced at Natsume and found him already looking at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

“What? Are you dizzy?” Nishimura pulled him closer, prepared to take them to the floor if he needed to.

“No, I’m fine. Let’s go upstairs.” They made their way up the stairs, with Nishimura making sure to support Natsume the whole way up. They run into Shigeru at the top, who’s face contorts in worry when he sees how Nishimura is supporting his foster son. He goes ahead to Natsume’s bedroom, lays out his futon, and closes the window.

“Thank you Shigeru-san.” Natsume says shyly, averting his eyes. Cute, Nishimura thinks.

“Just try to get some rest.” Shigeru says, ruffling Natsume’s hair. “And Nyanko,” Shigeru looks behind them at where the cat is sitting in the doorway, a bun in it’s mouth. “Watch over him while he sleeps, ok?”

Nishimura held back a laugh at that. Everyone seemed to talk to the cat like a human, even a man as serious as Shigeru. But the laugh died in his throat at the way the cat seemed to stand straighter at that, as if he had understood and was taking his job seriously. He was probably just overthinking it.

He finally let go of Natsume so he could change into his pajamas. He turned around and covered his eyes, but stayed alert in case he fell or couldn’t balance. When he turned back around Natsume was lowering himself down into his futon, looking worn out. Nishimura walked over to him and plopped down next to him. Natsume blinked at him with his wide eyes, and Nishimura took in his whole face. He had freckles over his nose from spending a day outside with him over the weekend, and they popped out with how pale his complexion was tonight. His eyes softened the longer Nishimura stared at him, and he noticed the specks of green sprinkled around in the deep hazel. His eyes flicked down to his lips and back up at Natsume’s face, who’s freckles had disappeared under a blush.

At that moment, Touko walked in with two cups of tea and a glass of water. Nishimura leaned back, not realizing how far he had leaned into Natsume’s space. With Natsume’s attention drawn away, Nishimura noticed the cat sitting at the end of the futon, his eyes narrowed to slits and his ears pressed against the back of his head. Nishimura glared back at it for the third time that night, not even having it in him to be embarrassed that he was beefing with a cat. They seemed to come to an agreement as the cat huffed and settled in next to Natsume's feet.

“Satoru dear, would you stay the night? I don’t want you walking home in the dark, I’ll call your mom for you.” Touko urged gently, while pushing Natsume back to lay down and checking his temperature again. He made eye contact with Natsume who smiled at him weakly back at him. That was all he needed.

“That sounds good.”

[horseyfuture]

Lockdown 2021

Welcome, you sickening metallic pervert. I don’t know why I even tolerate you, my dues to the club have long since been settled and yet still you show up with your corrugated spleen and your laminated nipples. What? Oh, it’s you. With your simple fleshy appendages and some kind of yellow blancmange for a CPU. I suppose you will suffice. Bend yourself over the table there and we’ll get on with the show. Liquid soap’s on the side, next to the antique bum-hammer.

---

Aries: You find yourself repeatedly followed by crows. This is in no way related to the quite normal phenomenon in which a murder of crows will adopt a human who feeds them, bringing them trinkets and even offering them protection from aggressors. No, these crows find you sexy. Leaping about in your lounge, wearing your goth tops and flapping your arms to the rhythms of online parties, the crows all agree that you are “SKRARK!” or, in Crow, “one fine piece of floppy human tail”. Well done! Crows have good taste and make excellent lovers.

Taurus: Every time you open that damn Taurus mouth of yours, you sound like a broken record. I mean, literally, you sound like a piece of badly scratched vinyl. That’s been up the wrong bit of a rhino. And is being played using a bent nail. Through the speakers of a brown ‘65 Ford Allegro. In Ipswitch. In the rain. On a Wednesday. In November. That’s a lot of detail to pack into an accent every time you decide to prattle on about crisps. People find it offputting.

Gemini: On a whim, you buy yourself a File-o-fax, you know, from the 80s. You must have seen one in a kitschy American TV show or something. While excessively bored on a Sunday afternoon, you begin to fill in some of the entries from your mobile phone. As soon as you finish writing the first one, Adam, he calls! What a crazy coincidence! You move onto the next, Beth - then SHE calls! That’s just insane! As you move onto the next name, you think “My god, what if I bought a MAGICAL File-o-fax? What adventures could I HAVE?” - You look down at the table in awe, when suddenly it all becomes clear: next to the Magic File-o-fax is the Magic Empty Bottle of Gin. Ah.

Cancer: Singing a song about beans, YEAH! Singing a song about toast! Singing a song about beans on toast, ‘cos that food you like the most, WOO! Singing a song about waffles? NO! Can’t be arsed making them! Beans on toast takes like two tiny minutes and waffles take about fucking ten! (FUCK THAT!) Singing a song into the beans can! While the beans turn in the microwave, ALRIGHT! Naming individual beans (YEAH!) pretend they’re all going to a beans rave! (WHISTLE POSSE!) Shovelling the beans into your mouth WOO! Toasting bread is for twats! (LO-SERS!) Pouring cold beans onto your face and half of them fall onto the cat! (SEND HELP!)

Leo: After a successful hour’s staring at the stippled ceiling, you reward yourself with a brisk walk to the door. After three proud steps, diligently recorded by your fitness band (which you’re fairly certain is now emitting a dull weeping sound), you jubilantly punch the air and have a nice relaxing pass out on the floor. After another few hours, you surf another boost of energy and nearly make it to the fridge. Sadly, though this goal is destined to elude you as you trip over a recently-delivered Amazon envelope. A handful of attempts in, you succeed at opening the envelope (only stopping twice to catch breath) and discover it to contain one flimsy plastic finger measurer and a £60 voucher for a wine subscription. You remember the partner you once had, in the distant before times, so vibrant and loud. In recognition of having had what you’re certain is “a feeling”, you fling the ring-measurer away, order the wine and settle into a nice, relaxing cry.

Virgo: There are a number of St Bernards around your neighbourhood and you’ve started to find them more than a little intimidating. What began as friendly barks as you passed in the street has developed into the odd growl and now barking as the owners pull their wretched beasts back from you, swearing in anguish as their hounds’ slavering jaws snap at your heels. After a few weeks of this, Monthly Bath Weekend inevitably comes round and the problem seems to just go away.

Libra: Some people have been baking recently. They - of course - are twats. Others have chosen to use this time to improve existing music skills, or even pick up a new instrument in their abundance of free time. Shit-eating scum, each and every one of them. You are not going to be affected by this self-improvement bullshit and have decided to strike out on your own, tangibly making yourself less pleasant, skilled and attractive with each passing day. Monday is fudge-eating class. Tuesday, “how long can I sit on the loo?” marathons (5 hours PB). Wednesday is Yelling ‘BASTARDS’ at the Sky Day, while Thursday (being the new Friday) you party on down with a life-size model of Prince made from your own toenails. Friday you slam your face into cupboards, repeating the word “APES” in a dull monotone. At the weekend, it’s time to rest! Phew! Just a few hours drilling holes in the ceiling, a slip, a tumble, a fall, a crunching sound and a view from the underside of a very poorly constructed step-ladder until it all goes beautifully dark.

Scorpio: Fuck this, you’re buying beach balls. Yep. Why not? You do, in fact, buy beach balls. Why didn’t you think of this before? They’re bright. They’re entertaining. They’re CHEAP. You can order them in large quantities, it turns out. “Ooh, I hope you’re not having a party!” says the delivery man, with a wink “HAHAHAH, NO. Actually I’m just INFLATING THEM AND POPPING THEM” you cackle toward his suddenly retreating face. It takes a while to inflate all 400, but the high you get from blowing them up is quite intense! Now you have a house full of beach balls! Haha! You can’t bring yourself to pop them in the end. Some of them are lost to accidents (fried beach ball, anyone?) and others you draw on with crude faces of past enemies, then open the door and punt them down the street with a hearty “FUCK YOU, BEATRICE!” (or Ken, as appropriate. You had few enemies. It’s cheap therapy). The last few hundred last you happily into the next month, though the doctor is mildly unimpressed when you attempt to get them vaccinated.

Sagittarius: Your attempts at making LEGO sex toys go badly to begin with. But, weirdly, you do eventually get better at it. You’re particularly proud of the one where you use the gearbox from the racing car for, well, you know. The winking pneumatic sex-donkey (8,014 bricks) is, in most people’s opinion, your pièce de résistance. You can’t wait for the highstreet to open up again, so you can go and show off your repertoire down the local toyshop.

Capricorn: It’s tough getting through lockdown without the internet. In your case, though, it is entirely self-inflicted. You made a promise to yourself to cut down on the doomscrolling and it was successful! Prodigiously so! You end up cutting out the news sites - who needs them? - then the social sites - nothing but trash! - then eventually you just pull the wires out of your router and fling it in the bin with some bits of leftover chicken. Time passes, politicians come and go, vaccines are invented, distributed, mostly successful (with only a small amount of people instantly turning into tiny, angry lizards) and eventually the world passes through the danger period and back into something like normality! You, of course, miss this entirely and get on with your new hobby of writing subversive poetry on the walls in dollops of mouldy Marmite. Weirdly, you ARE happier.

Aquarius: Lockdown doesn’t seem to be getting to you too badly this month (whichever month it turns out to be). You did get to a bit of a peak when you were popping a Toblerone up your bum while playing kazoos just to get yourself ready for the next bloody Zoom meeting of the day, you now you’re limiting it to one bar per day and only using the two kazoos, you feel like you’ve hit your stride, found your flow, really made the most of every work-from-home hour the Lord sends. Ah, yes, the Lord truly has kept you to the virtuous path. Without your faith, you would never have got through the dark days. Sat there on his throne of Bourbons, wearing his Chocolate Finger crown. Slowly rotating on the lazy Susan you bought so you could efficiently respect His Majesty from any angle with a deft flick of the wrist (and a few Bourbons in the eyes if you get too excited). The mighty Lord. You assume his name was Lord. There were only a few letters you could read on the collar when you found him by the bins. Ah, yes. The bins. The biscuits. The Lord. The rapture. Amen.

Pisces: After popping to the door to bring in a food delivery, you notice the day looks quite pleasant for a change, pop a mask on and go for a nice walk. On the way back, you notice a ladder leant up against a tree, with a strange golden light shimmering from high in the branches. Climbing the ladder, you hear the sound of a party, people calling your name in joy, whistles and whoops, clapping and laughter. You tumble into the golden light and down a kind of shoot as a fanfare plays. The dazzling light fades, the noise abates gently and you are sat on your sofa. On the TV are the words “LEVEL 4: YODELLING GEESE”. The geese filling your living room immediately begin to yodel with anger.

---

By the sainted elbows of Bobby Tavistocke, we got there in the end. I may have been a little over-brutal with my use of the bum-hammer there, for which I apologise. Anyway, you have extracted your price once more and I have little left to give. Pick up your clothes and get out of my living room.

As usual, you may of course take a fairy cake. We’ve got the nice ones this week.

DEPART!

[histoireettralala]

Monster

Hello friends! This is a new thing that sprang out of another discussion with @joachimnapoleon. Once the idea took hold of my brain, I couldn’t get rid of it, so... here you go.

*****

When Joachim told her one morning that he was going to buy a horse, Caroline wasn't surprised. He'd been meditative and quiet the last four days, throwing longing looks at the stables and the grazing horses. This was just the way he usually behaved when pining for a new horse.

So she had kissed his cheek and off he’d been gone.

And now, staring at the horse, she wondered how everything could have gone so wrong.

The horse was, to put it mildly... unsightly.

It was a huge and menacing black form, with a head like a lump of rock and teeth like tombstones, and it was staring back at her.

But when Joachim turned to her with his beaming smile, asking: "Isn't he wonderful ?", Caroline didn't have the heart to tell him his precious new friend looked like it belonged with garbage.

*** Caroline could have made her peace with the horse being ugly.

Despite popular opinion, Joachim wasn't stuck on looks, for animals in any case. How many times had she seen him fall all over himself to rescue a mangy alley cat or sorry three legged dog... wounded bird... stinking weasel... Name it, he'd fall for it.

No, to be honest, Caroline was more likely to judge on looks. And she enjoyed the sight of her beautiful husband on a beautiful horse, and basked in the appreciative looks and sighs of envy the lovely vision always drew.

But if the horse was ugly, he was twice as mean.

Nobody could approach him, let alone touch him.

He hated everything and everyone. Feeding him was hazardous. Petting him was for the brave and suicidal. Nevermind riding him.

But Joachim was determined.

After an epic first ride that had Joachim look like he'd been dragged through several hedges, and through a considerable amount of mud, with a shiner and a split lip, Caroline hoped he'd come to his senses. But the silly man was more smitten than ever and the horse snorted indignantly in her direction.

And indeed, if he hated the whole world, Joachim was his only exception.

The beast even took to putting his huge body between Joachim and whoever approached him, shielding his Rider from the enemy.

Everything was the enemy. Especially Caroline.

Clearly the monstrous animal was gearing up for war. He always stared at her in that uncanny way of his, projecting threats with his every move.

And Joachim coed over him as he would have over a helpless kitten, petting him, talking nonsense. And the beast was throwing her smug looks, Caroline realized.

The damned horse now took almost all of his free time and Caroline found one more reason to hate him.

*** Joachim was happy.

He knew his new purchase hadn't convinced.. well, anyone, but he would give them time to come to their senses.

That horse was awesome. Perfect. Wonderful. Spirited, combattive, brave, powerful and fast - oh God, so fast, Joachim hadn't had such a blast on a horse since... Oh, he had never had so much fun with a horse, ever.

He was back from a ride, whistling happily, with an armful of wild flowers for Caroline (she always scoffed at this, but when he didn't come with flowers she couldn't quite hide her disappointment), and smiled when he heard her voice.

"... And he's always gone, now, riding, riding, there's nothing but the Monster, and you know I get it and it's fine, but the Monster.."

Joachim stopped short, his face falling.

Monster ?

That damn fine animal with so much heart ?

Monster ??

Joachim almost stomped back to the stables. But he remembered hearing Napoleon calling him a village rooster or King Franconi, and, with a sniff, shook his curls backwards, set his shoulders straight, and strode into the room with an easy smile.

He was not going to let a nickname ruin his life. Or style.

*** "Where is my big precious Monster ?" Joachim shouted when the family neared the stables; an impatient stamping and neighing answered him, while Caroline faltered on the alley, drawing curious looks from the children.

Oh no, he'd heard her.

Joachim could be so protective, Caroline fretted, wrapping himself around the object of his cause, whether it be a snarling, spitting cat or a crying kid.

Caroline knew first hand the intensity of that devotion.

He'd heard her.

"Oh it's you, my lovely, " he was saying, petting the horse, his voice warm and steady, " my sweet Monster."

There was no sourness to his tone.

The children were looking at the horse, amazed. It was perhaps the biggest they had ever seen. Little Louise was reaching a small hand toward a powerful leg, and Joachim gently caught it and picked her up, kissing her cheek. "See, my little love, our Monster here is just like you or me, he doesn't like to be surprised or touched by someone he can't see or doesn't know, so I'm going to introduce you, alright ?"

The little one nodded and Joachim introduced Monster to the children.

Caroline watched the big brute tolerate her children's enthusiastic and clumsy petting with a single twitch, promptly eased by Joachim's careful attention.

(Maybe she'd judged him a little too fast, she thought.)

((It didn't hurt being cautious))

**** "It's alright," Joachim quietly reassured her on their way back home.

She silently looked up at him. And he beamed.

"It's an awesome name! He IS the most fearsome and terrible mount ever known to man, and it's only fair his name should strike fear and respect among all creatures!"

He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently, then he bent to kiss her cheek, wrapping his arm around her.

"It's fine, my love," he said.

Caroline threw her own arms around him, hugging him tight.

*** "... And so I wondered when I could come ?" Lannes' voice echoed through the room.

- Anytime," Caroline answered easily. "Although you might want to avoid the stables."

Lannes had never been one to NOT jump both feet into trouble.

"Why is that ?"

Caroline stifled a laugh.

"Joachim bought Satan's horse, that's why.

- Now I have GOT to see that."

*** "Damn," Lannes whistled, half horrified, half admirative. "That's... quite an animal."

"Right ?" Joachim was beaming, atop the strangest, ugliest horse Lannes had ever met. He could swear the beast was seizing him up and finding him wanting. This tickled his pride.

He was no Murat or Lasalle, but Jean Lannes was a damn fine horseman if he said so himself (he did, thank you very much.)

"Finally someone who understands! I know he doesn't look so pretty, but after all, Napoleon can't dress, does that stop him from taking over the world ? No Sir! Monster here is the real deal, not for the faint of heart!"

Monster, Lannes mused, eyeing the animal who eyed him back warily.

Monster, Monster, he thought, watching man and rider storm around the park, fleeing into the wood as if Satan himself was chasing them.

Monster, Monster, Monster...

He HAD to ride that horse.

*** "I told you, " said Caroline, passing him the bag of frozen peas.

"Owww," Lannes answered miserably.

She tutted and shook her head, and Lannes barely refrained to tell her how much she looked like Mme Campan when she did that. He was already down after all.

"That horse hates me," he whined.

She wasn't moved.

"He hates everything, Jean, don't feel too special.

- Ow. Even you ?"

She burst out laughing.

"Oh, especially me. "

Murat entered the room, Lucien on his back and the girls holding his hands from each side.

"Uncle Lannes fell, " young Lucien giggled, "it was so funny!

- No it wasn't," Letitia said, throwing Lannes an alarmed look. "Uncle Jean could have been really hurt ! Are you okay, Uncle Jean ?

- Oh," said Lucien, his laughter abating when he noticed his uncle's wince." Was Monster too big for you ?"

The innocent question needled Lannes and he instinctively straightened.

"Not at all, " he heard himself say. " I will do it again!"

*** He did it again.

So did Monster.

*** "Really", Larrey rebuked him while taking a close look to his aching, swollen leg, " You should know better."

Acknowledge defeat ? Never.

*** It happened again.

And again.

*** Monster was flying like the wind.

He was the strongest, fastest horse, and his Rider was the strongest, fastest Rider. The only one who deserved to fly with him. The only one who got him.

Monster pranced and danced and ran.

His Rider's warm laughter and warlike yells went well with him.

Monster was having fun.

*** Lannes tried his luck again.

It happened again.

*** Monster was careful.

This time, his Rider had come to him with the small beings he had introduced to him. Just like Her, those small humans were important to the Rider, Monster knew. He shouldn't crush them. He bent his head to let a little hand pet his nose, and whiffled, and black curls flew while a giggle rose in the air. "It tickles, Papa!"

They smelled like Him.

Monster let his Rider put one of the small ones on his back, and stoically endured the little hands pawing at him. It didn't feel right with such a small weight on his back. But the hands he knew were still here, on his neck, on his flank, the voice he trusted was always present, steady and warm. His Rider wasn't forsaking him.

Monster would tolerate the small ones.

As long as it was clear he had Only One Rider.

*** "I don't understand," Louise said, "What is your fascination with that horse ? We have several of our own, and none so mean. Do you like getting thrown off ?!!?

- I don't know, " Lannes grumbled.

"You are mad," Larrey snapped. " There's nothing I can do about this.

- I can't help it," Lannes whispered.

He just HAD TO ride that horse. Just once.

They made quite a fearsome pair, Murat and Monster, a dramatic black blur fit for some epic tale, and Lannes just wanted to be part of it.

"I know," Murat said, patting his shoulder." But it has to be his choice."

I want it so much, Lannes didn't say.

*** Monster threw him off again.

Murat tended to him without a word.

"Why don't you just tell him to stop ?" Caroline had asked him around the fourth Dumping.

But Murat knew it was useless. He understood Monster's lure better than anyone. And he knew Lannes quite well too. They were just as pig headed as each other. None of them would ever yield.

"Holy shit", shouted Lannes, " what a dumping that one was !"

It had been something, Murat mused. Thankfully the children hadn't seen that one.

"Had enough ?" He lightly asked.

Lannes hesitated.

"To be honest..."

Murat leaned toward his friend.

"... No."

They both burst out laughing.

*** Letitia was very proud of her ability to ride Monster - and she didn't understand why they called him Monster (it wasn't very nice, and he was a very nice horse, she thought).

Of course she couldn't ride him alone, and she wouldn't dare anyway, not without Papa, but there was no hiding the fact that she was very, very proud to be sitting atop Monster.

Monster didn't like ANYONE except Papa (not even Mama!) and maybe, them, sometimes, if they were good and obeyed Papa.

Letitia wanted to be a good rider, so she complied and enjoyed her slow, gentle rides on the big horse.

Spotting Uncle Jean, she smiled and waved. Uncle Jean waved back, and the little girl didn't quite identify the emotions shining in his eyes (Uncle Jean had very expressive eyes, she had heard, and it was true, but that didn't mean she knew what she just saw).

*** Lannes had been very good.

He really had.

He had not touched Monster for weeks, nearly three whole months. He had come almost weekly to Joachim's house, each time taking time to visit the horse - well, stare at him and talk to him. At him. Whatever.

He had tried hard to build a bond.

The horse seemed to tolerate him now, at least that's what Joachim told him with a smile.

Lannes had been patient.

The day Monster allowed him to pet his nose almost had him crying.

He'd never had to work so hard for a horse's grudging approval.

*** It was the beginning of summer and Joachim and Caroline were celebrating the completion of their new pool with a giant party. There were balloons everywhere, kids running after each other, dogs running after kids, music and wine were flowing, and Napoleon himself was smiling as little Lucien was telling him how he'd vanquished the Ghastly Ghoul In The Attic.

A triumphant yell rose and the thumping of hooves drew everybody's attention.

A big, ugly black horse appeared on the lawn, stopping them all in their tracks.

Caroline gaped at the sight.

Jean Lannes was riding Monster, a savage joy lighting up his face, his fist clenched in the air as he passed by Murat.

"Best horse ever!!" he exclaimed, breathless with exhilaration. " This is the best aaaaahhhhh..."

Monster suddenly reared up and stamped down hard, and to the sound of Napoleon and Larrey' synchronized sighs, Lannes' yell turned into a yelp of surprise. Amazingly, Lannes held on, but Monster reared up again and Murat, running toward them, watched his brave, suicidal friend take a proper maiden flight into the pond.

There was a moment of stunned silence and then all hell broke loose.

As he fished his friend out of the pond, Murat saw Monster gently trot toward his grazing.

Lannes, drenched to the bone, a water lily on his head and mud decorating his clothes, was looking at the horse with dreamy eyes, even as he was limping and rubbing the small of his back.

"It was AWESOME", he croaked. " Did you see ?"

Their eyes met and they couldn't hold back a snicker.

Larrey was tapping his foot.

His exasperated face almost set them off again.

Napoleon, raking his hand over his face, told Murat he'd sent Lasalle take care of the damnable horse, and can you please, my dear Lannes, desist from such useless endeavours ?

Murat handed his friend over to a furious Larrey, and backed off, getting ready to go to the house to get clean clothes and towels.

Lannes' eyes met his over Larrey's shoulder.

This was not the end.

END

[ti-bae-rius]

Chance Encounters - Part 2/2

(Read part 1 here: https://ti-bae-rius.tumblr.com/post/185651968861/chance-encounters-part-12)

I’ve been held up from writing this for @daisyherxndale for AGES so I hope it isn’t a disappointment now it’s written! But yeah, bit of kitty, bit of Mina and Kit sibling stuff, and some ghost!livvy. Enjoy part 2 of this fic which was a little longer than expected!

Ty walked over to where Kit was pushing Mina on the swings and stood in front of her, putting his hands up for her to push her feet off. She laughed when they made contact, her little welly boots being pressed, pushing her back towards her big brother, giggling gleefully.

“How’s Church?” Ty asked finally and Kit sighed, grateful he didn’t have to be the one to break the silence. 

“Good. He’s a little gremlin, but you wouldn’t think it was the same cat around Jem. They’re like...obsessed with each other.”

“Kitty!” Mina added and Kit smiled fondly.

“Oh yeah, Mina’s charmed him too,” Kit explained. “Haven’t you? You’re friends with Church the kitty cat, aren’t you?”

“No! Kit and Ty! K-I-T-T-Y,” she said, spelling it out phonetically with little kid letters. “Kitty!”

“That’s called a portmanteau,” Ty told her, nonplussed. “The blending of two words. It’s French - and that word itself is a kind of portmanteau of the words ‘porter’ and ‘manteau’. Isn’t that neat?”

“Neat,” Mina laughed, repeating the Americanism back to him in amusement. 

Kit’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it from his jeans, glancing at the screen as he pushed Mina with one hand. Jem’s photo showed up and he slid his finger along the screen to take the call. It was always hit or miss whether or not Jem intended to call; he was not the most adept at technology. However, he also worried when Kit didn't answer, so Kit sat also worried when Kit didn’t answer, so Kit sat himself on a bench and put the phone to his ear.

“Hi, Jem. All okay?”

“Everything’s fine. I just wanted to check in. Tessa’s found a new antique bookshop.”

“We’ll never see her again,” Kit grinned. “A bachelor once more, Brother Back-in-the-game-ariah, am I right?”

“I don’t have words to describe how much those nicknames disturb me,” Jem returned, which made Kit laugh. “How’s Mina?”

Kit glanced up and looked around when he saw the swings were empty. He saw his sister at the top of the slide, beckoning Ty after her. He obeyed, taking the ladder three rungs at a time, so he was at the top in only a couple of steps. Mina slid down and ran off to the climbing frame, leaving Ty to follow her. Mina was pulling herself up on the lattice of rope to be at eye level with Ty. Ty tucked his knees up to swing across a set of monkey bars which made Mina clap her hands together, impressed, She reached her arms up and Ty lifted her onto one shoulder, carrying her as she swung herself between the monkey bars, weightless and safe in Ty’s strong grip. At the end, he set her down and bent to give her a high five. Kit’s heart twisted. 

“She’s good, keeping Ty busy,” Kit said, sounding faraway and distracted, even t his own ears. He was hardly listening anymore, otherwise occupied watching Ty and Mina. This was not the Ty he’d left behind in Los Angeles in 2012, the young man who played with his little sister now, his past and present crashing together. Where did that leave his future? Kit thought. This Ty was taller and willowy, careful and calm. He was different, yet entirely the boy Kit remembered.

“Hello?”

Kit almost dropped the phone when Jem’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Sorry, hey. I was just thinking.”

“It looks like Tessa is finally done. We’re going to head home and - oh by the Angel, Tessa! Darling, how many more books do you need?” The line disconnected and Kit smiled, sliding his phone back into his pocket. 

“Mina! Mummy and Daddy are on their way home. Let’s go and have some lunch,” Kit called and Mina grabbed Ty’s hand, pulling him along after her. Kit grinned at Ty’s awkward gait, having to bend to keep his hand in hers, looking startled. When they reached Kit, she stretched her free hand out to him, anchoring the two boys, one on each side of her.

“Swing!” Mina pleaded and Kit lifted her by the arm, Ty copying him, and the two swung her between them, making her squeal happily. This was what it would be like if we had a kid of our own, me and Ty. Kit startled at the thought. Where had that come from? He glanced across, wondering if Ty was thinking the same thing. His side-profile gave nothing away, but when he glanced across and met Kit’s eye, he blushed and ducked his head. 

“Where’s Livvy?” Kit asked when they’d got back.

“She’s hidden, but she’s here,” Ty said, taking a sip of the can Kit handed him. He winced. “What is this? It’s awful.”

“It’s Irn-Bru,” Kit laughed.

“It tastes like gasoline,” he coughed. 

“That’s petrol to you while you’re here,” Kit joked. “Here, give me that. You’ll like this one better.” He slid his own can across the kitchen counter and Ty drank from it, nodding.

“That’s way better. But yes, Livvy’s here. We just didn’t want Mina to be scared if she could see ghosts too, and I didn’t know how your parents would react.” He froze, glancing at Kit. “Sorry, I didn’t mean...I know your dad...”

“It’s okay. Tessa and Jem are like my parents.” Kit smiled. “But, um, I’d like to talk to Livvy, if that’s okay? Like...in private?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. I’ll leave you to chat.” He glanced up. “Livvy, you can make yourself visible. It’s okay.”

Kit was, as always, somewhat taken aback by Livvy’s appearance. She looked so young, only fifteen. Kit hadn’t realised how much three years could change a person, but Livvy looked so much younger than him still. It was hard to see someone you cared about frozen in time, unable to grow and become older. It made him think of Tessa, who would stay young as the others aged around her. It wasn't eerie as much as it was sad. 

“Hey, Livs,” he smiled, as Ty closed the door behind him, going out into the garden where Tessa, Jem, and Mina were sat. Tessa was lounging on a picnic blanket, Jem’s arm around her, leaning back against his shoulder. They were watching Mina, who was looking at something on Ty’s sleeve, some creature or other, no doubt.

“Sorry again about your conservatory,” Livvy said, and Kit laughed. 

“You say that every time you see me,” Kit pointed out. “It’s fine. I told you, Magnus fixed it right up. It’s as good as new - probably better than new since Magnus probably added a little pizzazz to it.”

“That’s Mina, huh?” she asked, smiling wistfully. She was peeking around the alcove to look outside, careful not to make herself visible to the others. “She’s beautiful.”

Kit nodded. “I know. She’s amazing. She’s such a fast learner and so clever. I swear she’ll be reading War and Peace by the time she’s seven.” Livvy laughed, and it sounded unpractised. Kit supposed she didn’t have much cause for laughter nowadays. “How are you?”

“Dead, as per usual,” Livvy replied. “You?”

“Alive for now,” Kit told her. “Fingers crossed I stay that way. I-um...who’s Anush?” Kit blurted and Livvy covered her face with her hands, though her transparent form meant Kit could still see her despairing head shake.

“Just some guy from the Scholomance. Stop being all jealous.”

Kit scoffed, blushing. “I’m not. Shut up.”

“Um, says the person who asked me to manifest,” Livvy retorted. “But seriously? You asked me to show just to interrogate me about my twin’s potential relationships?”

“No!” Kit assured her quickly. “I wanted to talk to you. What are you guys gonna do when Ty graduates?”

“I wanna go back to L.A.,” Livvy admitted. “I don’t know if it’s the best idea though, or if Ty will even want to go back. He misses everyone but I think he quite likes the independence. I just worry that it’ll all go wrong. I’m okay when we go back for a few days or weeks, but staying there indefinitely feels like tempting fate. You know?”

Kit looked up at her. “Well I hope you come back and visit, wherever you go.”

“Ty wouldn’t stay away from you for long now he’s finally got you back,” she smiled. “He’d always come back and visit you, and we come as a package deal - even more than when I was live. Plus,” she added, nodding to the garden where Ty was sat with Mina, “I think he’s made a new friend.” Kit smiled and Livvy sighed sadly. “Go. They’ll be missing you. I’ll see you later, Kit.”

“Wait!” he called, and she paused, hovering. “Thank you. We’re still best friends, right? If you want to talk, get Ty to visit and we’ll talk.”

“Of course we’re still best friends. Besides, you don’t have much competition in that department,” she added. “I’ll see you soon.”

With that, she vanished, though Kit could almost pretend he could see her, floating behind Ty. Mina was looking up at him, awestruck. It took a moment for Kit to realise why; a squirrel was sat on his shoulder and he was feeding it nuts from the feeder in the apple tree. Kit didn’t need any reason to look at Ty with the wonder his little sister did. When he headed outside, sitting down in the grass and pulling Mina carefully into his lap, she turned to shush him, pressing her finger to his lips. 

“Sssh. Squiggle.”

Kit nodded solemnly, though he smiled as soon as she turned back around, wrapping his arms around her. He could still remember when she was newly born and he’d held her. Kit had never believed that babies smelt as good as everyone said, but Mina’s hair tickled his nose as he breathed and she smelt of vanilla and cotton and milky tea. He rested his chin on her head now and breathed in the memory of it watching Ty with a heart that was swelling so great he wondered when it would inevitably break. 

[ask-bloodmaw]

Being Adopted

this is the start of this blog. For the most part it’s just gonna be questions and asks but this short story is to get the ball rolling. for a tldr: Edge aka underfell papyrus was visiting Blue aka underswap sans when a underfelly, demony looking bitty slapped into his face. he was dared to raise it for at least 2 days and after taking it home and feeding it, he gave it a tumblr ask blog to occupy itself with.

edit: there was an issue with some of the text from the bottom ending up on top, so i fixed that

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s because you just can’t stay away from me!” Blue said cheerfully as he placed a plate of tacos on the table.

“I came because I was forced to take a day off for your information! Your invitation just happened to be for the same date.” Edge crossed his arms. He wasn’t going to admit to Blue he was glad he was allowed a day off. Working in the guard in Underfell was perfectly fine, but ever since his brother Sans, now Red, had fixed that machine in the basement and they knew of other universes… well it was nice for a change of pace.

Speaking of his brother… “Yeah sure Boss, as if you weren’t hoping for a day off.” 

“But Undyne was none too happy. If it weren’t in the job contract that I be given one day off each month, I would not be here right now.”

“Well,” Blue spoke to cut the tension that was starting to form. “No matter what the reason, I’m glad you’re here!”

“How long until Sci shows up?” Red piped up. To the side Edge rolled his eyes. Of course his brother would be asking after his scientifically inclined counterpart. There were times where the idea of his brother getting together with another version of himself did not agree well in his mind, but Edge supposed it with the fact that they were from different universes the other Sans was more or less a different person.

Sighing, Edge picked up a taco. They were normally too mild for his tastes, so he added a little bit of salsa from a nearby bowl. He let a small smile appear on his face for just a moment. This wasn’t his first time in Blue’s house. The first time there had been no salsa, but it ‘just so happened’ the next time the innocent counterpart of his brother had some ‘leftover’ salsa when Edge next visited. The same with the following visit. Reports from Sans showed that the salsa was only there on the days he managed to visit an-

SMACK

Edge whirled around, summoning two sharp bones. Whoever hit him was going to pay. Just because he was in a more relaxed environment didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight. “SHOW YOURSELF!”

Everyone was focused on Edge now, surprised by his sudden actions. Well except for Classic. The Tale version of his brother was lying on a nearby couch and was instead looking near Edge’s boots. “Just some weird toy. Maybe Honey was screwing around again.”

Edge reluctantly made his attacks disappear. Honey, Blue’s brother, has always been rather scientifically inclined himself due to his friendship with his world’s Undyne. Edge supposed he should return this thing to his lazy counterpart, so picking it up he… dropped it as it bit him.

“What the f-”   “Swear jar!”   “I didn’t even get to say it Blue!” Edge yelled, still looking at the thing. The small and breathing thing. This wasn’t a toy or machine. It was alive. He tried picking it up again now more prepared. The thing bit him once more, but since he expected the pain, he didn’t drop it. Looking closely, Edge could see it was a skeletal being. It was just… the size of a small bird. But there were horns on its skull and it had a tail which didn’t quite look skeletal. It was more magical based. It also seemed to be dressed in a rag of sorts.

The guard winced as the thing bit in a more sensitive place on his hand. He did his best not to fling whatever this was across the room. That was when Blue came over and managed to pry it off of him. “Aww! It’s so cute! Ow! Though it really likes biting and hissing.” 

Indeed, when Blue had taken the creature, it had kept biting but was now also hissing at him. “Maybe it just don’t like ya.” Red suggested. “It wasn’t hissing at th’ boss.”

“But it was still biting me.” Edge added on to his brother’s comment. He did not want this creature to become fond of him. He didn’t even live here. And this thing was so small, it would be killed within a week. Within the day if his cat got to it.

“But it wasn’t hissing too!” Blue repeated Red’s statement. “So it must like you most! Look! It’s even got red eyelights! Just like from a fell universe! Or maybe it’s a bitty! Or maybe both!”

Edge didn’t bother following along. He knew Blue knew the multiverse that they lived in much better than most. “Either way. What are you suggesting? That I keep it? You know I can’t do that with my universe.”

“Ya saying you can’t keep it alive?” The Sans on the couch questioned.

Again, Edge rolled his eyes. “I likely could, but it would only be a matter of time before-”

“Twenty G.”

Everyone was silent for a few seconds before Edge spoke up. “Do you mean twenty gold? Why?”

“That’s how much I’m betting you can’t keep it alive for two days.”

Red and Blue looked between Edge and Classic. Edge only took bets he knew he would win, but the way Classic had posed it… If Edge took the bet, he had to win. If he didn’t, it was just as bad as losing it.

“Look, if it’s a bitty, Blue can figure out what he needs for it, but it would take up his time. Since it seems to like you better, it stays with you for a day or two while he sets up. After that, you hand it off ta Blue and only have to see it again those rare times you visit.”

Edge supposed Classic was right. And while he wouldn’t admit it, he did have a soft spot for weaker beings with a certain edge, like a cat, or whatever this thing, likely apparently a bitty, was.

“Fine. I will keep them alive for two days. It surely is not hard. The only thing necessary is to separate it and Doomfanger.”

With that, Edge got up to leave, knowing he would need to use some of his free time to set up the house. That, and the sooner he started taking care of this thing, the sooner he would be done. Red didn’t follow behind, which was perfectly fine. It was better his brother wasn’t in the way.

The bitty kept biting at his hand, though not as hard as before. If it was from a fell universe similar to Edge, then likely this was just the only way it could attack. And seeing as how Edge had yet to kill it, it was giving the slightest sliver of trust to him. That, or it was just getting tired.

The tall skeleton swore when the bitty bit him harder when it was jostled a bit from Edge getting the portal machine he had to get home. It was the newest design which currently only he, his brother and Blue had been given, seeing as how Blue needed it most, Edge was Red’s brother and Red was dating the one who made it.

Edge closed the portal the moment he had stepped through into his house. Even if being inside his home was safe from the underground outside the door, he could never be too cautious. Edge looked around, making sure he really was alone and checking all the curtains were drawn before calling for his cat. The gray animal raced out from wherever she had been hiding and ended up at Edge’s feet, rubbing against his ankles and looking for a treat.

Edge bent down, earning another bite from the bitty as he used his other hand to pet his cat. The skeleton then walked to the kitchen and placed the bitty on the counter, freeing his hands to open the cupboard and pull out a bag of cat treats, which he opened and pulled out two to give to Doomfanger. 

The skeleton also pulled out a third and placed it in front of the bitty. Admittedly Edge realized he should have asked Blue what these things eat, but if it didn’t like the treat, other food would be easy enough to give the thing. Even if they couldn’t get as much food as their non fellverse counterparts, Edge had a well paying job to afford plenty, and it wasn’t as if this tiny thing could eat them out of house and home.

The bitty looked down at Doomfanger eating the treats and seemed surprised when one was placed in front of it. It picked the treat up which was a decent size when held in it’s tiny hands. It took a big bite out of the treat, and while it wasn’t the best tasting thing in the world, it was still food. The bitty then stuffed the rest in its mouth before chewing, being careful not to choke. Once it had swallowed, it looked up to the skeleton looking down on it and fluttered its little bone wings under the rag it wore. It held up its hands briefly, hoping for something more before putting them back down. Likely that was all it would be given.

Edge was glad to see that the bitty was okay with the cat treat, especially when it seemed to want more. He wasn’t going to only feed it with those, so he instead decided to let it try some pieces of cat food kibble. It seemed the bitty was also pleased with those and was surprised by the new type of food.

Edge let it eat as he picked up Doomfanger and carried her up to his room. He set her on his bed before quickly leaving the room and closing the door behind her. He could hear Doomfanger mewling to be let back out when he started down the stairs, but Edge didn’t want to deal with watching both the bitty and his cat at the same time when he was still learning how to care for the former of the two. 

When Edge returned to the kitchen, he found the bitty crawling around the counter. Or maybe not crawling as it seemed to be actually walking on all four limbs. He stood in the doorway, watching it for a few moments before it noticed him and sat back down. 

“Well, it seems you found the food edible at the very least since you seem to have eaten it all save for a few crumbs.” Edge spoke to the bitty. He wasn’t sure if it understood him since it seemed to droop slightly at his words. He wasn’t sure if it was just because of his inflection or if it could only understand his tone of voice. Edge sighed and picked the bitty up and went over to the living room, setting it on the couch. He quickly picked it back up when it decided to claw at the fabric. “Don’t! The only part I allow to be torn up is the legs and that is because I can’t convince my cat to use the scratching post.”

The bitty seemed to understand and just sat on the couch this time, watching Edge. He looked away for a moment to pull out his phone and when he looked back, the bitty was gone. He jumped up trying to figure out where it could have gone when there was a scratching noise. Edge looked down towards the noise and saw the bitty clawing at the feet of the couch. “It seems that you can understand me.”

The bitty looked up at Edge again before going back to clawing the already clawed up piece of wood. Then it looked back up, eyes focused on Edge’s phone. The skeleton took a moment to figure out what the bitty was so focused on, but when he did, he rolled his eyes. “As long as you don’t destroy this, I will allow you to mess with this and occupy yourself.” 

Edge set the phone on the ground before quickly grabbing the old sock Red left lying around and rolling it up to place behind the phone, propping it up for the bitty.

It walked over to the phone before sitting in front of it. It tested out the screen with one of it’s tiny hands, surprised when the screen reacted once its palm was touching. It managed to open up the camera, confused by the image of the wall behind it which was being captured. 

Edge sighed and picked up the phone again and unlocked it. “It’s probably easier if I set things up for you. Hmm… Are you able to type?” He asked before setting the phone back down on the notes app with the keyboard up. Quickly, the bitty pressed three keys: ‘yes’. “Well I guess there’s one think. I know Blue set something up for me when I first learned of the other universes, so it may be useful for you.”

After a few minutes, the phone was placed back down in front of the bitty. It looked at the mostly white screen with an orange pattern taking up the top third and a circle between the two parts with a diamond shaped icon. “A dumbed down version should be enough for you to understand. I’ve set up a place where people are able to message you and you will be able to respond. I don’t care what you do with that otherwise. If you ever need help just come to me. For now, I will be making some food for myself.”

As Edge walked away, the bitty looked towards him, and though it was too quiet to be heard, it still said “thanks.”

[twilights-800-cats]

<< Allegiances || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || From the Beginning >>

Chapter 3

Russetstar opened her eyes.

She was stiff, and hunger gnawed at her belly. Her senses felt stuffed, clogged – the smells of too many cats in too small a place stifled her scent glands as she opened her mouth to yawn. Russetstar stretched, her paws bumping against a box of Twoleg clutter.

Blinking bleary eyes, Russetstar took in her surroundings. In the gloom she could see the outlines of many cats, draped and lounging over various pieces of Twoleg furniture. The objects were barely visible under even more Twoleg clutter. Some Twoleg thing on the wall ticked irritatingly.

She sighed, looking around. Was there even a decent place to make dirt in this mess? Russetstar got to her paws. A worry for later. She opened her jaws fruitlessly, searching for food but only finding the cloying smell of the surrounding cats.

Where is the bowl? She wondered. Russetstar leaped down from her perch and landed softly on the furry floor. She stalked through the clutter, picking her away around pointed boxes and odd, smooth, empty things that the kittens often found themselves stuck in.

A shifting sound in a nearby room made her start. Dropping low, Russetstar prowled to the nearby archway, her tail-tip flicking. Was it a mouse? Loud, for a mouse, she thought.

Russetstar peered through the archway and into the kitchen. It was probably the least cluttered room in the Twoleg den, with cold, hard floors and bright light filtering through the windows. A stooping, elderly Twoleg was shuffling about the room, carrying about something sweet-smelling in her wrinkled, furless paws.

Food!

Russetstar padded cautiously into the kitchen, her belly rumbling. At the sight of her, the old Twoleg cooed in her harsh voice: “Oh… there’s my pretty little Red… who’s a pretty kitty?”

Russetstar flinched as the old Twoleg female patted her on the side and ran her fingers along Russetstar’s dark ginger spine. Russetstar didn’t purr until the old Twoleg set down the disk of food and she was able to tuck in without disturbance.

The food tasted too sweet and too wet for Russetstar’s liking, but at least it wasn’t the musty dry pebbles that the old Twoleg had fed them before. Something compelled Russetstar to eat until her belly bulged – there were so many cats here, who knew if there was enough food for all of them?

When she was done, Russetstar leaped up onto the kitchen counter. She could hear the old Twoleg milling through the house, waking up the other cats. How many of them were her littermates, Russetstar wondered – would she ever be able to tell in this cluster of smells and things?

Russetstar followed the counter until she could leap onto the nearest window sill. She curled her tail around her paws and stared through the cold pane of glass and into the world outside – a yard just as cluttered as the Twoleg den itself but… beyond it…

She put her paws up against the pane of glass, feeling the cold seep into her pads. Russetstar and the other cats weren’t allowed outside the den. The old Twoleg female always seemed very sad at the thought of her one of her kittypets leaving her. But Russetstar could swear she could smell the outside world through the glass – rich pine scent with a sharp tang of marsh and moss – and she longed to see it, even if it upset the old Twoleg.

The glass shifted under her paws. Suddenly Russetstar found herself plummeting through the window and towards the hard earth below. Blackness hit her before she smacked against the ground and Russetstar woke with a start.

It took her a moment to recognize that she was not in her old Twoleg nest – she was in ShadowClan’s camp, inside her den in the hollow tree. Her Clanmates were moving outside, some just waking. She swallowed.

It’s been so long since I dreamed of that place, she thought, tucking her paws under her. She gave her chest fur some quick licks to calm herself. It was so cluttered… there were too many of us.

She shook her head of the dream and the memories. She was a Clan cat now – and while Clan life could be cluttered at times, it was nowhere near the overwhelming state of her old home. There was fresh air, always, and companionship and organization. The clearing wasn’t full of old Twoleg junk to trip over, and one knew just who their littermates were.

Yes, this was far, far better.

———————————————————-

Russetstar padded out of her den not long after waking. She’d groomed herself well in order to calm her nerves and prepare for the day. Her stomach rumbled a little, but with a glance at the fresh-kill pile she knew it could wait. There were other cats that needed feeding.

Cats were clustered in the clearing, heads bent in conversation. Russetstar flicked an ear. It wasn’t hard to wonder what they were talking about: the news of last night’s Gathering had to have spread by now. The loudest conversation came from the shadow of the Clanrock, where Blackfoot was squaring up with Orre, another cat who’d come from the Twolegplace around the time Russetstar had.

It was clear where the dividing line was. Russetstar narrowed her eyes at the thought. Blackfoot was clearly against, and Orre was clearly arguing for Tinystar’s proposition. Blackfoot rose to his toes, trying to use his size to intimidate his Clanmate, and Russetstar groaned. Blackfoot was not the best at debate.

I don’t like this, Russetstar thought grimly. It’s too much like when we were following Bluestar. Back then, you were either with Bluestar or against her – and cats against her did not last long. Russetstar knew that fact very well: after all, some cat had to do the intimidating.

“Hey, Russetstar!” Stonepaw’s cheerful mew pulled Russetstar out of her thoughts. She saw her apprentice looking at her eagerly. “What’re we doing today?” he wondered.

Russetstar frowned, glancing again at the fresh-kill pile. “I think we need another hunting patrol,” she decided. “Get Oakfur and Rowanpaw and we’ll head out.”

Stonepaw’s eyes brightened, and he nodded before getting to his paws and taking off towards the apprentice’s den. Russetstar’s tail twitched as he disappeared into the tall thistles. Stonepaw and Rowanpaw worked very well together – they seemed to be getting on well as friends, something Russetstar was glad for. Stonepaw needed all the friends he could get.

The arguing was still going on, however, as if no cat had yet noticed their leader had emerged. Russetstar’s fur pricked with annoyance. She raised her voice and snapped: “What are you all doing? It’s past sunhigh – there’s work to be done!”

Many cats jumped in shock, turning to look at her with shame and embarrassment. Serves them right, Russetstar thought with satisfaction. But there were a few – Cedarheart and, even more annoyingly, Blackfoot – who looked frustrated that she’d stopped them. Russetstar flexed her claws unconsciously.

“Changing the warrior code doesn’t happen in a day,” she went on. “If it happens at all. Stop this nonsense and get back to work!”

Cats cleared out almost at once. Even Cedarheart got a move on. But Blackfoot lingered, kneading his huge black paws into the earth. Russetstar blinked at him, wondering what he was thinking. Blackfoot had always been rather forward and hard-headed… and he’d always been one to follow Bluestar’s orders when she set them. It made Russetstar nervous, sometimes.

“You haven’t told us yet what you think of that kittypet’s proposal,” Blackfoot grunted.

Russetstar narrowed her eyes. “His name is Tinystar, not kittypet,” she corrected. “And no, I haven’t – because I need to think about it myself.”

Blackfoot flicked his tail, clearly irritated that Russetstar hadn’t jumped to a conclusion as quickly as he had. He’s so transparent, Russetstar thought.

“If I catch you riling up the Clan again, Blackfoot, I’ll have to punish you,” Russetstar went on, keeping her voice low. She was aware of eyes – especially Orre’s – lingering on her. “Your place as deputy was meant to show trust, to make up for our past. It is not a place for you to abuse your power! Is that clear?”

Blackfoot’s whiskers twitched. His pale eyes narrowed. “Yes, Russetstar. I apologize,” he grunted. “I’ll go and organize the patrols now.” The big tom got to his paws and stalked away, waving his tail to gather cats up for the day’s work.

“Good,” Russetstar muttered after him.

Her tail trembled uneasily. Too often she wondered whether or not she’d made the right choice of deputy. Was Tinystar’s proposal about to put Blackfoot’s loyalties to the test? Would ShadowClan survive another shakeup?

Russetstar swallowed her nerves. It was only natural that cats would be divided right now. At the end of it all, ShadowClan was still a Clan – and even after all its hardship, it was still holding together. It would endure.

It has to.

———————————————————-

“Rowanpaw, check that sedge bush,” Oakfur ordered. “Tell me what you scent.”

Russetstar watched Rowanpaw nod and stalk away, lowering their body to mask their approach from any prey. Russetstar felt satisfied, watching them – clearly Rowanpaw was handling having Oakfur as their new mentor well. Jaggedtooth, Rowanpaw’s former mentor, had betrayed ShadowClan and joined BloodClan after Bluestar’s death. Just another thing for ShadowClan to adapt to.

Turning to her own apprentice, she saw him stalking a bird not far off. Russetstar noted that Stonepaw was still lingering in his ThunderClan training – but he was getting used to ShadowClan’s stalking style. His former mentor, Sandstorm, was one of ThunderClan’s best hunters. Stonepaw’s skill was undeniable.

Stonepaw pounced, but missed. Russetstar’s whiskers twitched as the bird flew away. Stonepaw turned back, his tail lashing. I had that trouble, too, when I first started hunting like ShadowClan, Russetstar thought. She was built like a kittypet, not small and lithe like ShadowClan. Stonepaw’s larger size wasn’t his fault.

It brought up Tinystar’s proposal in her mind. Was it really wise to let outsiders into the Clans at a whim? What would it do to the Clans in the long run if they were suddenly filled with cats that weren’t acclimated to a Clan’s specific territory? And what would that do to the cats who thought that Clan blood was so important?

Russetstar felt an uncomfortable pang as she pictured Bluestar on a hill of bones, watching a half-Clan cat die without emotion. She knew just what some cats were willing to do to keep Clan blood pure.

“Thinking about what Tinystar said, I guess?” Oakfur mused.

Russetstar swallowed. Was it so obvious? “Yes,” she admitted. Curious, she asked, “What do you think of it?”

Oakfur shrugged. “It really doesn’t bother me much. After all – look what letting in a kittypet did for ThunderClan!”

Russetstar’s tail twitched. “Tinystar is too big-headed for his own good, at times,” she muttered. The image of the small ThunderClan leader with a swelled head didn’t bring her as much amusement as Russetstar wanted.

“All ThunderClan cats are big-headed,” Oakfur pointed out. “Makes it worse when they’re right.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a sharp squeal. Rowanpaw emerged from the sedge, a vole in their jaws. Oakfur moved to congratulate his apprentice. Russetstar got to her paws and called Stonepaw back. We need to move on; that vole’s squeal will have alerted prey in this area.

The patrol moved on through the marsh towards the Thunderpath. On the way, Russetstar counseled Stonepaw and Rowanpaw in more pawspeak – a method of communication used primarily by ShadowClan during night-hunting. Stonepaw’s grasp of pawspeak was surprising – he explained that ThunderClan had a deaf warrior, Snowstep, and that ThunderClan was learning pawspeak, too.

Just another thing to watch for, Russetstar decided, marching on. Pawspeak was not exclusive to ShadowClan – deaf or mute cats in all Clans used it, too. In fact, it was said that Ravenstar, one of ShadowClan’s first leaders, developed the language for his own deaf kitten, so that they could hunt and fight just as well as any other cat. Though it was for all Clans, it had originated in ShadowClan and got the most use in the marshes – it felt wrong to have other Clans using it, at times.

The roar of a Twoleg monster signaled that the patrol was getting closer to the Thunderpath. Russetstar raised her tail to gather the patrol around her – but Rowanpaw lingered.

“I smell something,” they reported. They looked back to Oakfur and Russetstar. “Can I investigate?”

Oakfur looked at Russetstar questioningly. Russetstar opened her jaws. She smelled the Thunderpath’s stink, yes – but Rowanpaw was right. There was something underneath it. “Keep low,” she ordered. “Lead on.”

Rowanpaw’s eyes brightened, and they dropped their body low.

The patrol followed the young ginger cat through a patch of ferns on out onto the verge of the Thunderpath. Here it was clear of trees and growth for several fox-lengths. The cats lingered on the edge of the woods, keeping close and looking for the source of the strange smells that Rowanpaw had found. Twoleg monsters were unpredictable, and many cats had been injured by the massive beasts.

Another monster passed, stirring up a fresh wave of scent.

“I smell blood,” Stonepaw reported.

“I do, too,” Oakfur agreed.

Russetstar did, too – but there was something else… “This could be a trap,” she cautioned. “Stay back. I’ll investigate.”

Oakfur bristled. “Russetstar, you can’t go alone!” he hissed.

Russetstar lashed her tail. “I have nine more lives than you do, last I checked,” she snapped. “If I get hit by a monster, I’ll get up. None of you will. Now stay put until I signal for you.”

That shut the other warrior up. Russetstar lowered her body into the cropped grass and slunk towards the Thunderpath. She followed the gray stone river, her pads pricking in the stones, and crept towards the source of the strange scents.

The Twoleg fences loomed not far ahead. Russetstar bristled, wondering if this was a trap laid for the Clan by those bothersome rogues. But as she padded on she saw a cluster of shapes close to ShadowClan’s border and, more concerning, near the Thunderpath.

A bright splash of blood decorated the pavement. Russetstar followed it with her eyes and spotted a group of cats just off the Thunderpath, huddled in the verge. A skinny ginger cat was lying in their midst, their fur clotted with blood – it didn’t stop Russetstar from recognizing them, though.

She was one of the cats that fought us in the battle! she thought. They’re BloodClan!

Alarm made her take a step back. Unfortunately, her backstep made a stone clatter loudly onto the Thunderpath. Cursing, Russetstar saw the cats look up. Their eyes locked on her – a bright ginger shape amidst dying greens and browns. Instantly ears pinned and fur bristled.

“Get away!” spat a big gray tom. His shoulders were broad and his paws were very large. His ears might have been tufted, if they weren’t torn. His amber eyes dazzled with anger.

Instantly Russetstar felt pelts pressing against hers. Oakfur and the apprentices had come out in support, all of them crouched and growling. Tails lashed.

“Want us to attack?” Oakfur asked.

Russetstar wasn’t sure. The big gray tom looked hostile, sure, but beside him a softer-looking tortoiseshell with bright green eyes had laid her fur flat. She looked at the Clans with a round, calm face and she nudged the gray tom with her head.

“Calm down, Wolf,” she meowed. “They might help us!”

“We don’t need their help,” snapped Wolf. “Get back, Pansy!”

Pansy sighed. Russetstar craned her neck, trying to look for other cats. There was only one other – a very small pale gray tabby who crouched over the injured BloodClan cat, trembling. She looked very much like Wolf.

As if he could tell Russetstar was staring, Wolf put himself between Russetstar and the young cat. He arched his back, spitting with hostility. Oakfur took a step forward, his spine bristling.

“Wolf!” hissed Pansy. “Brick is really hurt – stop!”

Russetstar hissed to Oakfur, “Get back!”

Confused, Oakfur stepped back. Stonepaw and Rowanpaw were huddled together, claws unsheathed. Even their fur wasn’t sure what to do.

Russetstar straightened her spine and padded forward. “I am Russetstar, leader of ShadowClan,” she meowed calmly, looking at Pansy. “Why are you on our territory?”

“We don’t mean to be,” Pansy responded. “Please… our friend needs help. She’ll die!”

Russetstar swallowed, looking down at the BloodClan she-cat. Brick was wheezing, blood oozing from too many claw marks. She really would die without aid – any cat could see that.

“We are not taking Brick to the Clans!” Wolf insisted. “They’ll kill her!”

“We will not,” Oakfur insisted. “We have a medicine cat – he can fix her wounds better than anything you could find in time. Littlecloud wouldn’t let anything happen to a cat in need.”

Russetstar was grateful for Oakfur’s support. Sensing that they were to drop hostilities, Stonepaw and Rowanpaw flattened their fur, too.

“Who did this to her?” Russetstar asked. “Are they still in the area?”

“Was it a monster?” Rowanpaw wondered, their eyes huge.

Wolf finally relaxed his spine. His fur, however, remained ruffled. Perhaps that was just how his pelt was. “It was no monster,” he spat. “It was those BloodClan flea-bags!”

Russetstar exchanged a confused glance with Oakfur. But… isn’t Brick already BloodClan? Why would they turn on her like this?

It was a conflicting decision. Russetstar frowned at the strangers. Brokentail would have the cats killed. Bluestar would have, too. Russetstar flattened her ears. She was not like them – such thoughts didn’t even cross her mind.

What would Nightstar have done?

Russetstar had no idea. She could only do what her heart was telling her.

“You’re coming back with us,” she declared. “Oakfur, help them carry Brick.”

Oakfur nodded. He looked uncertain, still, but he wasn’t hesitating. “It’s the right thing to do,” he told her quietly. “But the Clan won’t be happy when they find out they’re BloodClan.”

“Tch!” spat Pansy. Her ears were obviously keen. “There’s really not a true BloodClan left anymore; they all split off after Scorch died. It’s chaos back there.”

“Because of the Clans,” insisted Wolf, his eyes narrowed to green slits. “The irony.”

“We’ll help Brick,” Russetstar meowed, “but then you can be on your way. Now follow us, please.”

Oakfur and Wolf gingerly picked up Brick between them, hefting the injured she-cat easily, as she was clearly nothing more than skin and bones. Stonepaw and Rowanpaw shifted themselves naturally to the back of the line as Russetstar led them off the verge and into the woods.

Oh StarClan, she thought. Let me have done the right thing!

[blahblahblippyblah]

Freinds are the Family we get to choose: Chapter 15: Fishing and Star Gazing

Check out my wolfstar jilly AU on A03.

Archiveofourown.org/works/17537060/chapters/46171921

The next day they all woke up a little later than usual. After breakfast they all took a hike out to the van. Marlene was coming in today and they needed to be there to help her bring stuff in. Sirius was excited for Marlene to come in. He had really bonded with her at school. They both shared a love for Queen and Bowie. She had a similar taste in style as him. Snuffles loved her cat, which she often snuck into the office as well. And she was the only one who got his queer jokes.

When she saw him she gave him the biggest hug.

“Sirius what the bloody hell are you doing here?” She asked when she finally let go.

“He was a stowaway” Remus answered for him.

“Hardly. I only hid in the back of the van for the three hour ride.” Sirius said lightly grinning widely.

“Well regardless I’m happy you’re here. You can help me with my surveys. “ Marlene laughed as she started handing them bags to carry.

****

Having Marlene in camp was great. Sirius enjoyed going out and helping her do her vegetation and rabbit surveys much more than spending the day helping James count deer poop, Or help Remus put out cameras.

He also leaned a lot from Marlene, she was a very skilled botanist. She slowly taught him all the local plants, and soon Sirius found himself being able to id without having to look in the little plant book she gave him. Soon he was spending his days wandering in the woods near the camp picking wild plants and berries to add to their dinner and breakfasts. Fiddle heads, carrots, garlic were his favourites. And he put raspberries and blueberries on his oatmeal every morning.

Having Marlene around was also great since she shared the same taste in music and tv. Which meant he had to listen a lot less to James’ shitty country music and more Queen and Bowie. All in all his summer was going great.

“Hey James I think I caught one!!!!” Sirius shouted out as something pulled hard on his fishing rod. He pulled back and gasped out loud as he saw the rod bend like it was going to snap.

“Holy shit!” James exclaimed beside him noticing that it wasn’t just caught on another rock this time. “Ok Pull back slowly then reel in as you come back forward.” James said throwing down his rod and jumping up and helping Sirius hold his.

“Come on you slut!!!!” Sirius shouted at the water. The fish was now visible doing its damnedest not to get near the shore.

“OK, one, two, three PULL!!!”James shouted and they both pulled back quickly flinging the fish onto the grass. It flopped around wildly. Sirius had never fished before but compared to the fish he saw in the grocery store he was pretty sure this one was a beast.

Snuffles cautiously approached the fish flopping around on the ground sniffing and giving it a look of curiously and confusion. Snuffles let out a growl as the fish made a larger spring from the ground and its tail slapped his nose.

“Ladies and gentlemen tonight we eat like kings” Sirius called loudly so that Remus and Marlene could hear from the camp. They both came out of the big canvas tent they had designated as the science tent and came over to see what the hullabaloo was about.

“Wow! way to go Sirius.” Remus said smiling at the fish which had stopped flopping and was now opening its mouth like it was gasping.

“Shit that’s a big fish” Marlene whistled as she bent down to pick it up. It took her both hands to lift it from the gills.

“What can I say? I’m the epitome of manliness and ruggedness. Wrangler extraordinaire.” He bragged.

“It’s Angler. Wrangler means you work on a ranch” Remus corrected.

“Whatever” Sirius said grinning wide.

“Well it’s pretty impressive”Marlene said handing the fish to Sirius and helping him hold it properly.

“Beginners luck” James said now reeling in his rod which only brought in weeds.

“Fine let’s eat the non existent fish you caught.” Sirius said waving is fish at James. James just shoved him in the shoulder, but he smiled at the teasing meaning he wasn’t too hurt.

“Someone take a picture of me with this before we cook it up” Sirius said reaching in his pocket for his phone. “I can’t wait to send this to mum”

*

Turns out catching the fish was the easy part. Cleaning it however wasn’t Sirius’s favourite activity. It was absolutely disgusting. It took all his will power not to faint when James made him cut it’s head off. Something about the crunching of the bones didn’t sit well with his stomach. When he slit the belly to gut it he lost his cool and threw up in the bucket that was meant for the guts. James being the unhelpful brother he was just laughed and pulled out his phone.

“Ha wait till mom sees this” James said as Sirius dry heaved and did his best not to throw up again.

“James I swear to the gods I’ll shove this fish head down your throat” Sirius threatened as he took a step away from the table to compose himself.

After a lot of gagging, and throwing up once more, the fish was cleaned and ready to be cooked. Overall it was kinda humbling doing all this to keep feed himself and his friends. Growing up as a Black he never got to do anything close to this. Kreacher always did all the cooking. When he moved in with James and Peter all he knew how to make was cereal.

Since Sirius had no confidence in his cooking skills, especially on a fire he left to cooking to James.

The fish was awesome, and went well with the rehydrated potatoes and peas. All four of them sat around the fire once the sun had with full bellies staring up at the night sky and swapping stories.

Eventually James fell asleep. Drooling onto his shirt and snoring loudly. Sirius took advantage of this position to stick some grass in his mouth which James didn’t even stir at. Marlene eventually stood up and called it a night. She shook James awake and once he spat out the grass he followed her to the tents to pack it in Sirius found himself sitting beside Remus alone in the warm glow of the dying fire. Suddenly he felt very self conscious. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to say something stupid. He noticed he was sub consciously running his hands through his hair much like James does. He stopped and carefully glanced over at Remus.

Remus’ head was laid back all the way so that it was facing the night sky. His arms were folded across his chest and his hands were bundled in the sleeves of his jumper. He looked like he was sleeping except his eyes were wide open. The sky was clear and the moon was completely dark making the stars shine brighter. They reflected in Remus’ now dark golden eyes. Puffs of vapour were coming out faintly in the cold night air as he breathed.

Sirius realized it was probably creepy that he was staring and adopted the same position as Remus instead He looked up at the sky and scanned the constellations. Growing up his family had made him and his brother learn all the names of everything in the night sky. His whole family was named after constellations, something he kept when he chose his name. It helped him remember where he came from, even if he hated every minute of his childhood. Sometimes it was hard to look up at the sky and see Orion, Narcissa, Bellatrix, Cygnus, Arcturus and many others without feeling like his relatives were up there looking down on him. However he couldn’t help but smile as he scanned the sky to find Andromeda, and Alphard. The two relatives he always looked up to. Andromeda was a lot older than him, but she was always there to look after him. She would often visit and take him out under the guise of teaching him how to act like a proper Black, but would instead take him to do fun things like go bowling, or eat street food, or swim at the public pool. She bought him his first binder which he secretly wore at school. He was so distraught when his family had disowned her. She had ran off and married a Newfie potato farmer, Ted Tonks. Something that was inexcusable as a Black. He remembers is mother screaming in rage as she burned Andromeda off the family tree tapestry when she sent a letter home telling everyone what she had done. When he ran away one of the first things he did was contact Andromeda. He even went to visit her on her farm and met Ted. Sirius loved Ted. He was easy going and always cheery. He always seemed to be whistling or singing these funny songs and poems. He was the first guy to show him how to shave. Andromeda was the one who helped him pick out his name as well.

“Sirius. That’s what your name should be. The brightest star in the sky.” She had said while they star gazed from a field behind their farm house.

Uncle Alphard was also a gem. Sirius was pretty sure Alphard is the one who gave him his mischievous personality. When he would visit Alphard would tell him stories about the pranks he would pull on Orion and Cygnus as kids, and how much grief he would give Sirius’s grandma and grandpa. Alphard never married, but always told Sirius he had no interest in that nonsense. He always said Sirius and Regulus were the only thing he really cared about anyway. When Alphard died he left all his personal fortune to Sirius. Something Sirius was sure sent his Mother into a rampage and his father into an early grave. He wishes he could have seen their faces when the lawyers read the will to them and they found out they got nothing and everything went to their disowned disappointment.

Sirius scanned some more and found Regulus. His stomach twisted. He still didn’t know how he felt about his baby brother. Regulus never did anything to hurt him purposefully. He never said anything mean to him growing up unlike his other family members. Regulus use to follow him around and hang out with him growing up. He never ratted to their mom and dad when he misbehaved at school, or how tell them how Sirius changed into the boys uniform (Jame’s extras) when they got to school. When Sirius left home he was pretty sure Regulus had been forbidden to talk to him but when Sirius ran into him sometime after moving in with the Potters Regulus had greeted him as Sirius. And he didn’t even use a rude voice while doing so. He ,eery gave him a annoyed glare and nodded at him saying “Sirius, Potter” in acknowledgement of the both of them.

Sirius didn’t know when his brother became brain washed by his family but it wasn’t long after he left Regulus stopped acting civil.

“How do you think I feel everyone knowing my brother’s a filthy queer. Running around acting like an idiot, dressing like a delinquent” Regulus had once said when Sirius ran into him at school.

Regulus may not like him anymore but he must still care about him if he called him as a brother. The whole thing confused him. James was his brother now, and really James had always been his brother. But what did that make Regulus?

He shook his head focusing again on the stars.

“There’s me” Sirius said to Remus pointing up at the brightest star above them and a little to the south.

“Huh?” Remus said turning to him with a confused look.

“The star. Sirius. The brightest star in Canis Major.” Sirius said tracing out the constellation with his outstretched arm.

Remus followed his finger up to the sky and looked up at Sirius the star too.

The both sat in the quiet as the trees swayed and rusted and the frogs chirped. Staring at the sky.

“What’s that one?” Remus asked pointing the the faint red point to the west.

“Mars” Sirius answered. Smiling because he felt a little proud and cocky at his knowledge of the night sky he was getting to show off. “And if you follow that line of stars down this way” Sirius said stretching out his hand and leading Remus’s gaze south of Mars. “That curvy line of stars is Scorpio, the scorpion constellation” Sirius pointed out. “And over there is Leo the lion, Over there Taurus the bull, and that one almost right above us is Hercules.”

Remus gazes followed his pointing as he pointed out all the cool constellations and stars he could find.

“Wow” Remus whispered out eyes scanning the blanket of black above them. “Where did you learn all this? Or is it just the result of being an astronomer?”

Sirius laughed. ”Nah my family made me and my brother learn all this as kids. Probably what made me interested in spending the rest of my life staring at boring graphs looking for distant space rocks.”

Remus turned to him like he wanted to ask something but he shut his mouth and turned his face back up.

“Still I thinks it’s a pretty cool job. I mean studying the universe is such a mystery to me. I can’t even wrap my head around the stuff we don’t know about earth much less what’s beyond it.” Remus said.

“Ya I guess that’s what great about it. I think my mind exploded the first time someone explained the Big Bang and how the universe was created.”

“That would explain a lot” Remus said with a sarcastic smile.

“Hey!” Sirius protested. “Your a sarcastic little shit. You know that?”

“Ive been told yes” Remus said grinning at him.

“Good thing you’re hot as hell or else no one would put up with you” Sirius joked back.

Remus didn’t respond but Sirius was pretty sure he could see him blushing in the dark.

They sat their continuing to marvel at the stars and Sirius told the myths and stories that went along with the constellations and planets. Something about being in the forest made it all seem too real. Like the darkness of the sky was slowly melting into the darkness of the trees around them. Or maybe he was dozing off.

He practically jumped out of his chair in terror as the silence was broken by a loud howling sound.

Remus sat up and smiled like he was listening closer to the howling. Sirius felt embarrassed at his jumpiness once he realized the sound were coming from very very far away across the lake. Two possibly three wolves were howling back and forth in the distance. Once he got over how eery it was he started to hear the beauty int he howls breaking through the night.

Beside him Remus tilted his head back and let out a howl himself. Low and mournful unlike the chatty screaming howls of the wolves across the lake. The wolves stopped howling and Remus let out another howl this time louder. He stopped and turned his head to listen. Soon the wolves started howling back in the same mournful howl. Remus howled back. He did this for awhile before turning to Sirius and smiling. By now the fire had died out completely so Remus’s face was completely in shadows. The only thing standing out was the gold in his eyes. Which made him think of wolf eyes staring out at him in the darkness, but he marked this similarity down to the sounds of the howling around him. Still the golden eyes made his heart beat faster and his head feel light. The scared him and drew him closer at the same time. This filled him with energy so he titled his head back and gave the loudest howl he could. He heard Remus chuckle beside him at as the wolves paused again to consider this addition to the chorus before copying him and going back to their more chatty like howls.

“Well at least we know there are wolves here and I’m not putting out cameras for nothing.” Remus said . Sirius laughed at that.

They stayed sitting there listening until the howls died out.

“I guess we better pack it in. It’s got to be like 3 am by now” Remus said

“Ya good idea” Sirius said standing up and stretching.

He went to step forward toward the tents and hit Remus just as Remus stood up. Remus must have been moving forward because he bounced right off his chest backwards from Sirius. Unfortunately Remus lost his balance as he fell backwards and reached out to grab something to stop his fall. In the dark Sirius didn’t see it happen but he felt Remus grab his forearm as he tripped and pulled him down with him. Siruus tried to stop their fall but his waving arms just seemed to put them more off balance and his foot caught in his lawn chair making them both crash down into the dark cold grass. Sirius fell right ontop of Remus his face planting right into the Remus’ chest. Remus let out a gasp as his back hit the ground probably knocking the wind out of him. Sirius groaned his elbow throbbing since he tried to use it to stop himself from crushing Remus and it took the majority of the weight of the fall.

“Tabarnac!” Sirius swore as he tried to correct himself. Unfortunately his legs were caught in a lawn chair preventing him from rolling off Remus. He was suddenly very aware of how their bodies were lying on top of one another. Remus was warm and soft and smelled like black tea, chocolate, under that top smell there was also the unmistakable sent of moss and rain and wool. Man why did he smell so good? Sirius had never seen the guy bath in the lake like he and James, and even with the bathing in the lake they both still smelled questionable. Sirius felt himself blushing and Remus wriggled under him trying to help him de tangle themselves and the chair in the pitch black darkness. Sirius did his best not to think about how nice it felt as Remus’ face pushed against his shoulder and his hips slide across his.

Eventually the rightened themselves and pulled themselves up again.

“I’m sorry” Sirius apologized offering his hand to help Remus stand up.

“It’s ok. I probably should not have stood up so quickly in the dark” Remus replied taking Sirius’ hand to help himself up. Sirius pulled up on Remus’ arm and Remus shot up. The guy was surprisingly light for someone so tall that he pulled to hard and Remus came flying toward him. Sirius caught Remus from falling again by pulling him close.

Now they were standing toe to and face to face. Sirius arms around Remus from trying to stop him from falling. Remus’ hands were both on Sirius’ chest. Sirius could feel the electricity shocking him from the proximity.

“Uhhh…um.. my bad” Sirius stammered out.

He could feel Remus’s smiling sarcastically in the dark which Sirius’ face flush hot.

“Thanks” Remus said. He sounded a little winded and it came out more as a whisper. Sirius smelt tea and chocolate on his breath. He felt the urge to lean forward and kiss Remus , and he was pretty sure he could feel Remus lean closer too but Sirius shook his head quickly to clear his thoughts and next thing he knew they were separated.

A light came on from the direction of Remus as the guy turned on the flashlight on his phone.

“Good idea” Sirius said following his lead. They walked back to their tent using their phone lights. They said an awkward goodnight before parting into their separate tents.

Inside the tent James and Snuffles were both snoring away so he carefully crawled into his bag. The last thing he thought about before falling asleep was how warm Remus had felt and how he had almost kissed the guy. He wondered if Remus would have kissed him back. Probably not Sirius finally decided. Why would someone that awesome want to kiss him. He put up with Sirius’s flirting but Sirius figured flirting was probably as much as Remus would tolerate fro him. Anyway why would a great guy like Remus go for him. That night he dreamed of chocolate flavoured lips and a warm body held up against him. This however was ruined the next morning when the warm body turned out to be the very hairy and smelly Snuffles who had crawled in his bag last night for warmth.

[war-of--hearts]

Chapter One

Summary : 

Princess Valerie's got one goal– to survive her coronation with no problems. If she gets lucky, she intends to complete a few other objectives along the way: find a husband (against her own wishes), secure an alliance or two, and withstand the dreaded quadrille.

Her goal seems to be easily within reach– that is, only until she discovers one huge problem. And unfortunately for her, that problem is a very pretty, very mysterious girl named Casey.

After a week of flirtatious touches, time spent together that feels suspiciously date-like, and lots of conversations about lips, Valerie’s beginning to wonder why she ever considered finding a husband in the first place. She begins to fall deeper into her own desires, instead of following what her royal advisor says would be best for her people.

But the whirlwind romance seems too good to be true, and these dreamy escapades come with a catch. Unknown to the poor Princess, there’s a plot brewing to overthrow the aristocracy, and Casey is leading the chase, the front runner of a rebellion that's been building for years. But playing with love is never a victimless crime, and they both might just be next in line to be convicted.

Chapter One :

If there was one place that Casey belonged, it was the beach. It felt like home in her heart. The cool waves crashing against the shoreline reminded her of new beginnings as they brushed over the fresh footprints that decorated the sand. Looking out over the water and at the distant horizon forced her to remember that she was part of something bigger than herself, and it made her humble. Out of all the places in the world she could have been, she was here, on this tiny island of Atrina. Sunlight darted through the tall leaves of the palm trees and onto her skin, warming her whole body. She dug her toes into the wet sand and just took it all in. The cacophony of the tremulous waves, the refreshing foam washing across her feet. Then, over the peaceful white noise, she heard the rustling of leaves.

She trained her ear on the sound, pondering where it had come from. There wasn't even a gentle breeze today. Then, as Casey crept closer to the source of the noise, again, the foliage shook.

Peeking around the trunk of a rather large palm tree, she saw a young boy, who glanced around quickly before jumping up to grab another piece of fruit from a small orange tree along the path. He appeared rather skinny, even for his age, and was likely very hungry. Her heart broke as she saw a younger, hungrier version of herself in his same place, but that was so long ago. After watching him for some time, she decided there must be a way that she could lend a hand. She stepped out from behind her hiding spot and called out to him.

“Hey, you there!”

Casey winced, noticing that her tone had been sharper than she had intended. The boy looked at her with wide eyes for a moment, before quickly picking up the basket of oranges he had already collected and running off. Casey silently huffed and scolded herself for coming off so unintentionally mean. The boy had only wanted a meal, and there was no reason to deny that to him, especially since he was so thin. With that, she could almost feel the hunger pains that used to plague her, like she was that small village child begging for food once again.

Picking the leftover fruit up from the mossy ground, she decided to head home and do something to get her mind off of the guilt gnawing at her stomach. She walked along the worn path toward her house–or home, really. The trail was covered by trees dotted with all kinds of tropical fruit. Technically her brother, Andrew, and his wife owned them. Due to the surrounding circumstances, however, they were more than happy to feed their starving neighbors when they had an abundance. It was a peaceful and natural setting, disrupted only by the sight of the house, poking out from the thick treeline of the forest. It looked rather bland from the outside - just brown clay walls, a roof made from mud tiles, and a thin door made of fabric stretched over a wooden frame which did not do a great job of keeping the elements out during harsh weather.

Nobody out here had a lot. In fact, she had more than most- a family, a bed, and a decently stable source of food. Her house was significantly larger than most of her neighbors’, but was still only a simple main room - where she slept - and her brother’s room. In the corner of the main room, they had a large fireplace. Next to it, There were two chairs and a coffee table, all mismatched and misplaced, and scattered on the coffee table was an assortment of books she had found and collected over the years. The covers were all tattered and worn, and many had bent corners or even no corners at all. She kept her bedroll in the opposite corner, tucked away along with her latest read. She was currently invested in a large collection of classic Atrinan children’s fairy tales that she had picked up from a trash heap. She cracked open the book, scanning over the pages full of wicked stepmothers and ferocious dragons to figure out where she had left off. Ever since she got her hands on this novel, she dreamed of being a valiant knight, loved by the public, and ultimately a hero.

Then, she heard someone open the door, and quickly she set the book down and jumped to her feet, ready to defend herself if necessary. But it was only Claire, her brother's wife. She was carrying in a large wooden crate, splintering around the edges, while very heavily pregnant. Casey, growing concerned when she saw her carrying something so heavy, snatched it from her hands and carried it towards the fireplace.

“Claire! You're 8 months along! You cannot still be doing heavy labor, it's not good for you!”

“Casey, please. I'm fine, I swear.”

Casey rolled her eyes as she inspected the contents of the crate. Underneath the unexciting rations and fruit from the garden, something glimmered and caught her eye. Rifling through the contents, she curiously picked out the sparkling object that had captured her attention.

A necklace.

It looked expensive, the intricate silver chain catching the light, and she could imagine the large pink jewel strung around one link hanging tastefully between the collarbones of an Atrinan aristocrat. Casey whistled at the sight of it. Claire’s eyes widened for a moment, seeing that Casey had found what she had carefully buried under the rest of the supplies.

“Where did you find this?”

“Some junk pile. Someone must’ve thrown it out by accident. I figured it looked valuable so I picked it up.”

Casey had never seen something this expensive. How could someone lose such a valuable piece of jewelry? She let the question weigh on her for a moment before the answer hit her. Nobody had lost it, it had most likely been thrown out by someone within the walls. Where had Claire really gotten it? Rummaging through trash belonging to royalty could cost you your life. Why had she gone and done such a thing? Why did Claire lie?

“Hey, Claire?”

“Hm? What’s up?”

Her words were cut off by Andrew bursting through the door. His blond hair was windblown and sweaty, and he was gasping for breath. He was holding a small can tightly in one fist. Casey’s mind was inundated with questions.

“Claire! I got it, just in time!”

Having absolutely no idea what they were talking about, Casey’s eyes darted between them, grasping for any sorts of clues. She cocked her head and sent her brother a questioning glare.

“Got what?”

In his hand was a can of temporary silver hair dye. What did all of this mean?

“Casey, I have a big favor to ask you.”

•●•

“Why do you want me to do this?”

“Casey, look around you. People are dying at the hands of these tyrannical royals. Look at the people outside the walls, Casey. Just look at them! They're hungry, they're sick, and they're illiterate.”

“So it's not for personal gain?”

“No, of course not. I want to protect you, and Claire, and our child. I want them to grow up without having to go hungry, or watching the ones they love and care about die from a perfectly preventable disease. Just like how we had to watch Mom and Dad suffer, because the stupid king didn’t do a damned thing to help them.”

Casey looked him in the eye, trying to make sure that he wasn't lying. He was staring at the ground, his eyes brimmed with tears. He’d always been emotional when talking about their parents. This was obviously something very close to his heart. Casey sighed, letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

“Okay.”

“You’ll do it?”

Casey smiled at the small glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Yeah, anything for my family. Plus, the plan is easy enough.”

“Just attend the ball, scope out the castle, and on the last day, cause some chaos so the way is paved, and the revolution can commence.”

•●•

And just like that, Casey was now Anastasia - a Duchess from some far-off land that she'd never heard of, and wasn't even sure existed at all - now standing before the grand entrance to the ballroom. Glancing at herself in the sheet of water near the large entrance of the castle, she could barely recognize who was looking back. She was wearing a sleek dress of black velvet that was complemented by golden shimmer in the skirt. She wore simple jewelry, simple shoes, simple makeup. Her glimmering silver hair was slicked back, and the color brought out her hazel eyes, which were made sharp and cat-like with deep black eyeliner. Anastasia was ready to take on the ball.

She walked into the grand ballroom with the confidence of the queens she'd read about in fairy tales, but inside she was cowering, sure she would be caught. In the room filled with flamboyant gowns and suits, Casey felt small in her simple, almost plain, black dress, even though it was the most expensive thing she’d ever worn.

As she mingled and wandered about the room, she quickly became nauseous. The decadence dripping from every gem could nearly feed a family in the village for a year. The names of the food sounded foreign, but the tropical flavors tasted familiar. Every crumb of food was covered in all kinds of expensive garnishes, not a single one out of place. The ballgowns and the suits were tailored at every inch, perfectly suited to match the wearer. She almost laughed at all the absurd hair colors - bright blue ponytails, orange curls, green braids - as those of royal blood flitted around the ballroom and past her.

Casey lazily mingled among the royals for some time, picking up bits and pieces of gossip, usually something trivial, like a dress worn twice, or less than top dollar shoes. She spent most of that time hovering in the corner, sipping exotic drinks and trying the foods waiters had placed so orderly on trays. However, even while keeping to herself, she still remained very cautious. She had kept her back pressed against the wall for much of the night, so she probably jumped at least a mile high when someone manage to sneak behind her and tap on her right shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry, didn't mean to scare you.”

Casey turned around to see a boy who looked really young but was also incredibly tall. His bright blue hair was unkempt, not slicked back like most of the other royals. She turned her body to face him, poised to speak.

“Just a little jumpy today is all, no worries.”

Her words were smooth but her heart was pounding. For a moment he looked at her with curious, dark eyes, then put the bright smile back on his face.

“I'm Prince Jax, from the neighboring kingdom of Realia. I don't think we've ever met.”

“My name is Anastasia, Duchess of Samara. Nice to meet you, your highness.”

“Ah, yes! Samara sounds fami– I'm not going to lie, I have no idea where Samara is.”

Casey almost had to giggle, because she had no idea where it was either.

“It’s a small kingdom in Russia. Being here in the Atrinan heat is a nice break from our long winter.”

“Is it your first time here in Atrina?”

“Yes, it is. By any chance, do you know much about the culture here? I'm rather curious about traditions and customs for this coronation ceremony.”

The lies slipped so effortlessly, Casey worried that she might be a little too good at this. Pulling information from Prince Jax was as easy as taking candy from a baby.

“Oh, it's a very interesting tradition. It began with the very first people here, who anointed their first king after he led a successful hunt. They feasted and danced and had a huge party which lasted a week, ending with the coronation of their new leader. Each of the days is symbolic. Today represents Alliance, meaning most of the activities today involve socializing and dancing. Tomorrow is Prosperity, then Health, Fortune, Fertility, Power, and finally, Peace.”

How ironic, starting a war on the day of peace.

“So why are all these foreign diplomats here, then? If this is a tradition of the Atrinan people?”

“The purpose has turned from a celebration, even though it is such a momentous occasion. People are searching for a marriage alliance with Princess Valerie. She’s young and impressionable, easy to grab power from. She's just turned of coronation age - and right on time, since her sister only recently renounced the throne. ”

Casey almost felt bad for the Princess. Emphasis on almost.

“What can you tell me about that? I haven't kept up with Atrinan politics.”

“Oh, it's quite the story! Valerie's older sister, former Queen Arietta, was really young when she started to rule. She was such a beautiful Princess, the envy of most other Princesses on her coronation week. The tensions were high, the Atrinan economy was booming, and everyone wanted to stake a claim.”

It was almost like he was knew exactly what she wanted to hear. He pulled out all the facts she would need to reveal the corruption of this royal life and fuel the rebellion even further.

“Under so much societal pressure to have a king, so that there could be an eventual heir to the throne, she married a suitor from the ball. The new king was horrible. He embezzled funds from the treasury to build his own kingdom a military, and used it to attack nearby allies and part of Atrina itself. Queen Arietta was in ruins. She paid him a large sum to keep him quiet and get a peaceful divorce. Then with no allies and no money left in the treasury, she fled the kingdom by sea, leaving a note that she was renouncing the throne, and bidding good luck to her dear sister, Valerie, who had finally come of age to inherit the throne.”

“Goodness, how tragic. Poor Princess Valerie.”

“If anyone can fix this, it's Va– Oh! There she is now.”

Casey turned her head to the grand staircase, and atop the curving flight of stairs, there she stood, shining like a beacon of hope. She gracefully descended the steps, sparkling silver heels visible underneath the large ball gown. When she hit the main floor, she parted the seas as she walked, those around her being sure not to touch her large ball gown. It took Casey a moment to recognize her - Princess Valerie.

She hadn't seen her on a broadcast in a while, but the Princess had grown up well. Her face was still childlike, her cheeks a little thinner, but still just as rosy, and she kept a brilliant smile on her face almost constantly. And now that she had matured, she was also breathtakingly beautiful. Her hands were covered now by silver gloves that reflected the light, and her pastel pink hair was up in a tasteful bun, curls framing her round face. The silver circlet around her head, a symbol of her status, nicely complimented her tan skin. And her dress, a large seafoam gown with many laces and ruffles, looked absolutely stunning on her. It was sleeveless, and Casey almost drooled over the way it showed off her arms, strong and defined but somehow still delicate.

Casey stood entranced as Valerie made her way across the floor. The Princess was smiling and greeting everyone along her path, returning every one of their bows and curtseys. Her eyes crinkled with laughter and Casey couldn't look away.

But this. This was her enemy. This was who she was set out to destroy.

So she dragged her eyes away, breaking her trance. She grabbed another flute of champagne from a nearby waiter, who she was convinced was wearing more expensive clothing than her, to calm her nerves. Then she turned to continue a conversation with a tall,vaguely unimportant man, some Duke or Archduke or other important person, that she had been absentmindedly talking to earlier. She hadn’t even noticed Prince Jax leave her side to go talk to Valerie, until he was halfway across the ballroom and she cursed herself for being so distracted by the Princess.

After rolling her head back in laughter at a bad joke, as she had seen many others around her do, she finally found herself face-to-face with the princess. Princess Valerie’s green eyes sparkled, rivaling the glittering silver she was dressed in. She smiled and Casey felt as though she couldn't breathe.

“Hello, I'm not sure we've met. My name is Valerie. Welcome to the kingdom of Atrina.”

With that, Casey was afraid that her heart might explode. Her voice sounded like honey, something she could listen to for hours without getting bored. In her wonder, she almost forgot to respond with her own introduction. She exhaled and put on a graceful smile, which she was sure didn't match her very obvious blush.

“Anastasia, the pleasure is mine. Such a lovely ball you’ve put together. Congratulations on your coronation, your future majesty.”

She put a hand over her chest as if to stifle the sound of her pounding heart. She watched as Princess Valerie’s eyes followed the movement. Then she opened her mouth to speak.

“May I?”

Princess Valerie held out a poised hand as though it were an offering. Holding her breath, Casey placed her rather shaky hand in Valerie’s, and the young Princess drew it up to her lips, pressing a kiss against Casey’s knuckle.

Casey was sure her face was incredibly red, and she had stopped breathing a long time ago.

This is your enemy, don't be disarmed. She's surely got evil intentions.

The mantra repeated itself in her mind, and she composed herself, cooly drawing her hand out of the Princess's grasp.

“How gracious of you, Princess.”

“Please, call me Valerie. Princess sounds much too stuffy. Enjoy the ball, and I hope your stay in Atrina is wonderful.”

After a very sly wink, the Princess turned heel and walked to greet more guests. Casey steadied her breathing and slowly brushed her fingers down her face, pausing them at her lips for a fleeting moment, deciding then that she truly hadn't had enough champagne for this.

[legojacques]

Kent’s childhood cat, tw: off-screen animal death, reincarnation, the Kit Purrson origin story, 1.4 K words

Inspired by this drawing by @wheeloffortune-design

—

It was raining the day they brought him home, and Snowball had been sleeping in her second favorite spot on the couch. She had ignored the opening and closing of the front door at first, but the unfamiliar smell of something new piqued her curiosity and she went to investigate.

The humans had gone upstairs, but they were still awake in their bedroom, both peering at the bundle one of them was holding. She drew closer and closer until she hopped up on the bed, and propped herself up on her hind legs to get a better look.

“Laura, the cat,” the tall one said cautiously.

“Snowball’s just curious, Tom. She’ll be fine.” She shifted the thing in her arms until Snowball could see, and oh! It was a small human. The smallest human Snowball had ever seen. “His name’s Kent,” Laura said softly.

Snowball carefully leaned in as much as she could without losing her balance. It suddenly occurred to her that this was what a baby was. The word that had been thrown around the house for the past several months. Everything had to do with “the baby” and no one had stopped to explain to Snowball what it even was.

The baby was sleeping, his small hands were curled into loose fists just below his chin. He didn’t have a lot of hair on the top of his head like other humans, but what little amount there was the same colour as Laura’s. He started to squirm and making soft noises, and Snowball pulled back in alarm. She didn’t take her eyes off of him though, and eventually those small eyes opened, blinking unsteadily as he looked up first at his parents, and then at Snowball for the first time.

—

Snowball didn’t know anything about babies, but it was Snowball’s opinion that Kent was the best baby, and for that Snowball was proud of him.

He’d finally learned how to crawl, and now she could show him her favourite spots around the house. She’d been patiently showing him everyday how to move around, even though he had seemed content to sit on his butt for a long time. It wasn’t until one day when Snowball tried to leave the room that Kent had made an angry screech of protest, got up on all four limbs, and tried to follow after her.

After that, it was just a matter of waiting for Kent to catch up to her whenever she moved to a different spot. She never went far, but just far enough to see if Kent would follow her, and he always did.

Today, though, was a relaxing day. Kent was sitting on his blanket and Snowball was sprawled out beside him as he amused himself with whatever sound-making toy Tom had put in front of him. Currently, it was Mr. Frog, and Kent laughed at the rattling sound while he shook it. He was very easy to please, but after a couple more minutes he flung the toy across the room. Kent looked surprised before his face scrunched up and he began to cry.

Tom, who was on the phone with a client, tried to distract the baby with a bunny instead, but it didn’t work, and Kent continued to wail. Snowball was already up and across the room to get Mr. Frog, and when she dropped it in Kent’s lap, the screaming stopped and a gummy smile bloomed across his face.

Later, after Laura had gotten home from work, Tom told her about his afternoon while they were curled up on the couch. “I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have Snowball around. I swear she keeps him entertained and happy like 90% of the time he’s awake,” Tom said. Snowball didn’t miss the glance she received, but she was currently curled around Kent who was petting her in short strokes, so she didn’t do more than flick her tail lazily.

Laura laughed and patted her husband before scooping Kent up to get him ready for bed. Kissing the top of his forehead, she said, “Good thing Snowball loves you, Mr. Sleepypants.”

And it was a good thing.

—

Kent was just learning talk when Snowball started to feel something hurting inside of her. By the time Tom and Laura realized to take her to the vet, Snowball already knew something was wrong.

Kent, not realizing that there even was anything to worry about, played, cuddled, and napped with Snowball like he did before. Except now, he’d taken to calling her “kit” or “cat” because he couldn’t pronounce Snowball’s name (it came out as “No Buh”). He didn’t notice Tom and Laura’s hushed conversations, or that they’d started paying lots of attention to her and feeding her the really good cat food she only got on special occasions.

There were other changes too. Sometimes, Snowball would hurt all over and she didn’t want to play with Kent. Most of the time, she was just wanted to sleep. She didn’t understand everything that was happening to her, but she knew she was running out of time, and there wasn’t going to be enough left for everything that she’d wanted to teach Kent. That would have to wait.

The night before, they all sat together in the living room. The phone was unplugged and Laura was home early. It was almost silent except for the unseasonable rainstorm outside and the sounds Kent was making. Kent offered a wet animal cracker to Snowball who ignored to groom his hair instead. There was an unruly piece in the front that never sat quite right on his head once it had grown in.

“I’m going to be back,” Snowball promised between licks. “I still have lots of lives left. I’ll find my way home” She paused. “Just… don’t grow up too much without me, okay?”

None of them understood her, of course, and maybe it was better this way.

—

Almost twenty years later, Kent was back home during the off season. There was something nostalgic about being back in his childhood home, but even more strange that he was there by himself. His parents had gone to one of his dad’s colleague’s weddings for the weekend, and the small house felt empty.

The first night back, the familiar cadence of rain drops on the roof had just barely lulled him to sleep when a crash of something outside jolted him awake. He couldn’t see anything from his window. He went downstairs, grabbed the flashlight his dad always left by the back door, and went out to investigate.

He had expected a racoon knocking over a garbage can or the neighbor running into something in the dark, but a small, white shape came darting out the bushes. It stopped short and meowed at him, and Kent realized it was a bedraggled kitten.

Kent bent down. “Hey, kitty,” he said softly. The cat tilted its head to look at him, before running up to him. “Woah,” he said in surprise. It didn’t have a collar, and its fur was muddy and matted in some areas. He thought stray cats were usually skittish, but this one jumped right in his arms. “Right, well, let’s get you out of this rain,” he said, tucking the kitten into the crook of his elbow. After he’d dried the cat off with a towel and fed it the tuna he’d found in the cupboards, he let it investigate its new surroundings.

Kent felt restless, and instead of going back to bed, he turned on the TV instead and half watched while he scrolled through his phone. After a little while, he realized he hadn’t seen the cat in some time and was just about to go look for it when a faint chirrup had him looking down to see the cat at the foot of the couch. It had something in his mouth, and when Kent leaned down to see what it was, he realized it was some kind of baby toy. It was an old and discoloured frog that had rattled when it was shook. “Wow, which closet did you dig this out of?” he asked, puzzled.

The cat meowed in response, seeming pleased with itself, before curling up in Kent’s lap. He stroked her soft fur, and tried not to think about how this all seemed very familiar. Eventually, Kent drifted to sleep with the TV in the background, and when he woke up in the morning, the white cat was still there, waiting for him.

[mdarwin]

Broke Thorough - Spring 2018

Broke Thorough

DAY ONE

Dr. Cousins had been working with patient E for a couple of weeks, and she was next for our team meeting. I was already exhausted after two patients on this, my first day at 11 Greenberg North… but she was the one I’d been looking forward to. I looked around at the other interns to see if they were as eager as I was, but made sure not to show it myself. Along with all the other things this month was, it was also something I needed to be at the head of or else I’d lose my own. I smoothed my pencil skirt over my thighs where I was perched on the radiator and prepared myself for the most psychotic person in the building.

An orderly whose name might have been Angie led E into the conference room by the shoulders, coaxed her softly to sit in a chair opposite Dr. Cousins, and said to him, “I’ll be just outside if you need me.” E was on status, but for an unusual reason: One-to-one care was usually only prescribed when the patient was in pressing danger of hurting him or herself (everyone knew that) but E was on status because she couldn’t move around by herself. There were twenty-two patients on the unit, and all of them could feed and bathe themselves, all of them could get up off the couch and walk to their beds, all of them could helplessly write letters of appeal to a court that wouldn’t read the plea in such earnest and unbureaucratic handwriting… except for E. E would wake up in the morning and be led around all day -- to the dining room, where every day the staff got their hopes up she’d bring food to her lips, and, defeated each time, got a few bites in her through the otherworldly grin she rarely released. They helped her in the shower, getting dressed, sat her down when her parents came to see her. They led her to a couch in front of the TV, where she sat for hours with a gaze fixed on the ceiling, hands resting inside the join of her blue scrub pant legs. It’d been determined she wasn’t self-stimulating, but every time someone managed to get her hands out of her pants, she’d just put them back; it was one of the only things she seemed to be able to do, was put her hands there. With fists together under the fabric and drool oozing down her chin down to her breasts, bare under a matching scrub top, she seemed to demand nothing, while what we demanded of her was impossible.

I learned all of this later, though, along with the fact that there was nothing to be eager about in meeting E, in seeing her see through walls, through eyes, through planes, staring at her friend that never left her, whom we’d never be introduced to outside of his component chemical imbalance, CAT scans, medication trial-and-error. She would be one of thousands of patients I’d have in what became a forty-year career working with the nonlucid, but this was the first day of those forty years, and I’d never yet seen someone in person who’d lifted off.

“Hello. Can you tell me if you know where you are?” She was looking past Dr. Cousins’ right ear as he asked, going through motions he’d had to every monday, for this silent haint. Up at the ceiling she stared, and I swear I saw tears in her eyes at the sight of stale flecks of dust that drifted into the light from the pale of this brutally precise inquisition.

DAY EIGHT

Goddamn it, I swear I’m well-socialized, but patients are terrifying. They reject everything and make me feel like a fucking idiot. What am I supposed to say out loud to someone who can’t hear me because of a problem I’m supposed to fix?

We were in the art studio and I was E’s one-to-one, to get some live facetime into my hours, but I wasn’t strong enough to lift her up when she keeled over forward onto the table, swinging like a hinge from where her legs bent and where she cupped her hands. I wasn’t strong enough to try.

That evening, E’s mother came for visiting hours and saw the purple marks from where E’s forehead had landed on uncapped Crayolas, and she wiped them off of her with spit and thumb.

DAY FIFTEEN

On this particular monday, it was all about an orange sharpie. The nurse’s station was abuzz with apathy. 

“I do not get paid enough to wrestle a writing instrument from that girl’s hand.”

“You think she’d fight back?”

“Are you seriously asking me to predict what that child will or will not do?”

“Well, where did she get it?”

“What do you mean, ‘where did she get it’? If we kept track of every little thing on this unit -- you know what? I’m not even gonna say it. You know what would happen.”

“As if we ever do get to go home in the first place now…”

“Mm-hmm.”

Other patients sometimes fought. They sometimes threw things, and kicked, and snuck in life-threatening contraband, and sometimes they fucked each other in between checks, and sometimes they spit. The spit had to be the worst, though. It hadn’t happened to me, but I’d heard Shirley, who wanted to go home and not think about orange sharpies, explain that being spit on by someone who hates you because they’re ill isn’t any less hurtful than being spit on by someone who hates you for some logical reason. Then she said that “more hurtful” doesn’t even begin to cover it, when her Danny is with Mrs. Klee in the apartment down the hall four hours longer than he was supposed to be, so that she can wrestle patient J down with restraints so that he doesn’t strangle patient D, who has a death wish anyway; both of them full-grown boys in their twenties whom patient J considers to be on opposing sides of an imagined war with the illuminati. Shirley said when they spit, it takes a long, hard look in the mirror at home to remember why you come in the next day.

But patient E didn’t pose the same threat as other patients on this unit. There were male patients who had their eye on her, and sometimes she stared back at them, eyes glassy, before erupting in a laughter that was like dreams; a myth; a laugh like nonsense. She was moving on her own now, dancing laps around the nurse’s station, hands out to her sides, but she still hadn’t regained speech. Patient E was a model of hospital behavior: she never caused trouble, because she never caused anything… not change, or impact; she just danced a ballet around the unit like it was a stage, and she didn’t ask anyone to pay attention to the story, or the footwork. She didn’t ask anything, even though we were begging her to want, with everything we had. ‘She’s here,’ I sometimes thought to myself. ‘She really is here.’

There was orange… everywhere.

DAY TWENTY-NINE

It was only I who saw her, in the doorway of her room, pink and naked and trembling with a grin against a backdrop of curved orange lines -- worms and cows and books and mountains -- and she emerged slowly as I came upon the threshold. I took the child by the shoulders, with the few years I had on her and so much gained from what she lacked, and it took but a nudge to ease her back in, away from the world asking of her. She met my eyes.

“Not naked, no,” I said.

“Okay.”

[michiigii-writes-mysme]

Twelve Hours

Summary:  The RFA+S wake up before MC.  In my Ideal World.  Not that long after Seven’s After Story.

Pairing:  Saeran x MC/Reader

Genre:  Slice of Life; Fluff

Rating:  M, for a little swearing and a little steaminess.

Word Count:  Approx. 1800

A miracle happened, that day.

Saeran woke up before you did.  That never happened.

To earn a living, your boyfriend did freelance coding and internet security algorithms, and the work usually brought him late into the night.  He had incredibly erratic sleeping hours, either sleeping in late, or taking random naps throughout the day.  More often than not, you ended up going to bed by yourself.  

However, the night before, Saeran had fallen asleep with you.  You had drifted off to sleep in his arms and he hadn’t wanted to disturb you.

It was your phone’s alarm that had awakened him.  It was an annoying, almost whining sound; you had picked it specifically because it irritated you and you would want to turn it off immediately.  Unfortunately, you had set that alarm ages ago; now, you were a little bit too used to the sound.  Abruptly roused, Saeran glared at the phone in question, then looked down at you, still with your head on one of his arms.  You didn’t move; your boyfriend smirked a little to hear you snoring lightly.

He hesitated, then reached over you to your phone, hitting the ‘snooze’ button for you. You always set your alarm too early.  A couple more minutes of rest couldn’t hurt.  Saeran wrapped you more comfortably into his arms, and kissed the top of your head.  

All mine, he thought, resting his chin in your hair.

He knew you had work, that day, but he never liked seeing you leave.

A few more minutes ticked by, you still asleep and Saeran in that warm, hazy place between wakefulness and dreaming.  Just a little longer… He could see that it was early enough that it was still dark outside.

The alarm blared, again!  Saeran flinched, then irritably hit ‘snooze’ again.  It really did make such an ugly sound.

He considered turning off the alarm and just letting you sleep in, but only for a moment.  You had a busy day ahead, and he knew it.  You would appreciate the gesture, but making you late for the day would be more of a hindrance than a help.

A door squeaked open, in the hallway, and quiet footsteps passed the bedroom door.  Several floorboards creaked, followed by the sound of someone descending the stairs.  That was Saeyoung, your boyfriend knew.  Breakfast was on its way.  Inwardly, Saeran sighed; it was time for you to wake up.

Gently, he shook you in his arms.  You squirmed a little, then got comfortable again and seemed to settle.

“Hey,” Saeran said in a low voice, “Wake up.”

He shook you again.  No reaction.  You weren’t even snoring, anymore.

“Hey,” he said more firmly, shaking you a little harder, “You’re gonna be late.”

You started to shift your position.  You must have heard him.  Saeran bent down and chewed on the tip of your ear, a little, making you squeak in surprise.

“Get up,” he commanded, not loudly.

Eyes still closed, one of your hands came up and stifled a jaw-cracking yawn.  When you relaxed and finally opened your eyes, you smiled sleepily at him, blinking a little asymmetrically.  He loved that expression on you; you looked adorable.

Saeran nudged your nose with his, making you a little more alert.

“Wake up,” he said again, then told you the time.

“Hnnn…”

You leaned back and Saeran released you a little so that you could stretch.  That gave Saeran an opening to nuzzle your neck.  You twitched at the sensation, then smiled; that tickled.

“Okay…” you said dreamily, rubbing sleep out of your eyes, “I’m awake.”

“Good,” Saeran said in a muffled voice, his face still in the hollow of your neck.  So damn comfy…

“Mm…I’m getting up now,” you said, but not moving.

“Good,” Saeran responded, also staying in place.

There was silence.  Nobody in the room budged an inch.

“…You asleep, again?” he asked, after a long moment.

“Mmn…no!” you answered, your eyes snapping open at the sound of his voice. When did your eyes slip shut?

“Good,” he said, still in your neck.

“Um…” you were more alert, now, “I think I really do need to go, now.”

“Then go.”

“…Are you gonna move?”

“No.”

You chuckled, before asking, “Then how am I gonna get up?”

“Not my problem.”

“You have me pinned!”

“Good.”

“Saera-”

BLAAT BLAAT BLAAT BLAAT

The two of you flinched when your phone alarm obnoxiously interrupted you.  Recovering quickly, you sighed and turned the alarm off properly.

“Okay, now I’m really awake,” you admitted, “Time to go…”

Instead of cooperating, Saeran rolled over onto you, trapping you completely.

“Oops,” he deadpanned, ignoring you as you giggled and ineffectually tried to push him off.

“Get off!” you exclaimed, laughing.

“Call in sick,” he responded, burying his face into your hair and breathing deep.

“You’re a bad influence,” you scolded lightly.

“I am a bad person…” he shrugged.

“Saeran,” you said firmly.

He grumped, knowing you were being serious now, but rolled off of you. You were free!

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you said, getting out of bed.

“Mm-hm…”

On your way to the bathroom, you looked at your boyfriend.  Watching you move, Saeran was splayed across the bed, propping himself up a little on his elbows, his legs casually opened, one knee slightly bent.  His red hair was tousled from sleep, and he was shirtless, having only pulled on some pyjama pants before holding you close until you fell asleep the night before.  And he was eyeing you up and down with that look that made your knees weak.

“…why are you so sexy?” you breathed.

“I heard zero complaints last night,” he smirked.

“Uh-huh,” you rolled your eyes, then gave him a mischievous look.  Facing him, you coyly started pulling up the hem of your shirt.  He raised an eyebrow slightly, but did not look away.  Slowly, up the thin fabric went, inch by inch.  Then, just before he could get a proper view of two of his favourite things, you turned away.  You could hear him groan good-naturedly behind you, but you ignored it, pulling your shirt over your head completely and throwing it somewhere to the side.

You were definitely not wearing a bra.

I can be sexy, too…

Smiling appreciatively at your antics, Saeran stayed in bed, deciding he would let you shower alone.  

…then changed his mind after about five minutes.

Downstairs, in the kitchen, Saeyoung was making pancakes.  Pouring a little batter into the pan, he could hear you giggling and yelling playfully at Saeran. You sounded echo-y; you were probably in the bathroom.  A moment passed, and he could hear water running; probably the shower.  The former hacker smiled to himself, waving a spatula in the air to inaudible music.  It was the start of a beautiful day.

Cooking away, Saeyoung noted absently that the giggling upstairs had died down but the water was still going.  He didn’t pay much attention to it; he was trying to shape a pancake so that it had cat ears.

Maybe chocolate chips for the eyes? he thought, looking at what cooking supplies he had, What about the whiskers?  Cherry stems?  But you can’t eat those…

Time passed, and eventually Saeyoung finished all of his pancake batter. You still seemed to be showering, so he decided to set the table.  He got the plates and cutlery out, then grabbed both maple syrup and chocolate syrup.  After some thought, he put a couple jam jars on the table, too.

Huh.  I set the table all by myself, he thought, frowning a little, Where is everyone?

He looked up at the ceiling, and could hear that the shower was still going.  You didn’t normally take this long to get ready.

What’s taking her so...

…

...!!!!!

Finally, the proverbial pin dropped, and with a gasp, Saeyoung’s glasses cracked as he realized what exactly was going on.  Mildly horrified, he ran halfway up the stairs, thought better of it, then ran back down.

“THE SUN ISN’T EVEN UP, YET,” he yelled up the staircase, “YOU HAVE A ROOMMATE.”

Saeyoung ran his fingers through his hair, shaken, then added belatedly, “…AND BREAKFAST IS READY.”

A few minutes later, you and Saeran came down, him looking smug, you looking a little sheepish.  

You both still had damp hair.

Saeyoung was seated at the table, a teacup held daintily in his hands.

“Did you hear anything?” you asked, a blush very apparent on your cheekbones.

“Just the water running for way too long,” Saeyoung answered, sipping some of his tea then giving you a look over the rim of his cup, “Way too long.”

Your blush deepened, and you took a seat across from Saeyoung.  Saeran, on the other hand, looked quite blasé; he chose to sit beside you, pulling his chair close to yours, not caring what his brother thought.

“…weather forecast was good, today,” Saeyoung said, pitying you in the end and offering you a change of subject.

“That’s…good,” you responded, letting Saeran serve you pancakes, “Oh…!  These are cute!  Kitty pancakes!”

“Yeah, I drew them in the pan with chocolatey batter, then filled them in with plain batter,” your best friend said proudly, “I’m a genius!”

You smiled gratefully at your friend, then started to eat.  Saeyoung watched as you also fed Saeran from your plate, as was your habit.  Saeran didn’t eat much for breakfast, if he was even present for it, so you always had to feed him.

“I’m going to be out for a long time, today,” you said, talking around a mouthful, “I’m scheduled for a 12-hour shift, so I won’t be home until late.”

“12 hours?” Saeyoung whistled low, before helping himself to some of his own pancakes, “That sucks…”

“Yeah…” you sighed, giving Saeran a mouthful of pancake from your own fork, “But I know it’s my turn to cook dinner, so I’ll bring home takeout.”

“Yes!” Saeyoung cheered, “And taiyaki?”

“Sure!” you agreed with a smile, “Today’s gonna be long, but at least it’ll end well!”

Later, Saeyoung watched from a slight distance as Saeran saw you off at the door.  He was amazed, again, at how happy his brother looked.  So different from that first day in the hospital…

Saeyoung didn’t bother trying to hide his smile as he watched the two of you. The truth was, Saeran had requested that Saeyoung make breakfast, pulling him aside the night before. The younger twin had wanted you to be as happy as possible before heading out; he had seen your schedule and already known how long you were going to be out for.  And you loved Saeyoung’s pancakes.  It pissed Saeran off, but Saeyoung really did make the best pancakes, out of the three of you.

When the door closed behind you, and Saeran turned around, he was met with Saeyoung’s stupid, toothy grin.

“Aw…you’re in loooo-” Saeyoung started.

“Shut up.”

“-ooooooooooooooooo-”

“You little shit.”

“-oooooooooooooooo-”

“…seriously?”

“-oooooooove!”

Giggling impishly, Saeyoung easily dodged a shoe that Saeran threw at him.

“Look at you, providing for your lady!” the ex-hacker added, giggling.

“Fuck you,“ Saeran growled, tossing another shoe before heading to the stairs, "I’m taking a nap…”

Saeyoung laughed harder, but let his brother go.

His two favourite people in the world were happy; what more could he ask for?

-fin-

The last of my Good Morning, RFA series.  Some sweet Saeran times.  Mmm….!