#Tobias as a kid: (You need to hunt him down for a chance to talk and even then it's 50/50 if he'll manage to swerve you)

[yeonban]

Tobias and Nikolai simultaneously started laughing at this so if that's not an admission I don't know what is

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Trials and Tributes (3/5)

Summary:  

“There were witches who lived among them. Or so that’s what Levi was told. He just could not believe for the life of him that she’d be one of them.”

Levi is a soldier who interrogates witches before they are put on trial and Hange might just be a witch.

Levihan Secret Santa Gift for @cleacourgette

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Link to other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

They were working late that night. So unusually late that at first, Levi had taken Erwin’s closing the windows as a sign that they should finish for the night. He had started to empty his own desk of paperwork when Erwin spoke up.

“How were the trials?”

“Routine.”

Erwin raised one eyebrow. “The trials for someone so important to you volunteered to facilitate it?”

“Yes, they concluded she was a witch and we’re moving on to the swimming test. It’s in two days.” Levi said as mechanically as possible, not wanting his true emotions to leak out.

“Do you really believe she was the one responsible for the plague in your village? The plague which took your mother I mean?” Erwin did not need to clarify it. Yet, he did and that clarification only made Levi's chest tighten.

“Who else? She murdered a child then she disappeared.”

“I visited Hange after her last trial, had a small chat with her.”

“Of course she wouldn’t admit it.”

“That wasn’t what I asked about. I wanted to understand for myself what happened with that incident back she was a child, when she was accused of murder.”

“She said herself, she didn’t know what happened to him.”

Erwin shook his head. “She didn’t know. But the other people from the town did.”

Levi’s eyes widened in surprise. Suddenly he was self conscious of his disconnect from the happenings of the town as a child. Although he was considered one of the townspeople then. Having had to take care of his sick mother, he never had the chance to go out and meet many people nor discuss what had been happening around the town.

“I checked the reports in the capital library. Tobias’ mother reported that she had found red welts on her son’s back when he got home from playing with the kids then his body started to swell. Within an hour, he started to have a hard time breathing. His throat closed and with no means of breathing, he passed away quickly.”

The circumstances of his death were strange. Strange enough that the townspeople had come together to organize a witch hunt.

“They also recorded the accounts of the witnesses who were playing with Hange and Tobias that day. And when I checked them, they aligned well with the story Hange had given me. She pushed Tobias into a grassy patch. One of the boys who had been left there when Tobi and Hange both went home mentioned that they might have landed on a fire ant mound which explains the itchy red welts on Tobi’s back.”

Levi had been bitten enough times to know ant bites were painful. “But ant bites aren’t fatal.”

“This is where I did some extra research and talked to some more apothecary's and doctors. Apparently it is not completely implausible to infer that Tobias died from something called an allergic reaction. The swelling of his face, the difficulty breathing from an insect bite. It lines up so well with some of the other writings from doctors."

“Then how do you explain the plague?” Levi asked.

Erwin sighed. “I don’t think there’s any better way to tell you this but, I don’t believe the plague that killed your mother was caused by a witch. In fact, I don't believe witches actually exist.

                                     Trials and Tributes

“Levi, I have a theory.”

“You always have theories Hange,” Levi said, not looking up from the book he was reading.

“Humor me! That’s my book so I can get it back from you anytime I want.” Hange put her hand on the page he was reading so suddenly and so rudely that Levi had to resist the urge to slam the book closed on her hands then and there.

“Okay. I’m humoring you," Levi said.

“So, lately I’ve been noticing something about my herb garden. There is a small area where plants tended to die at a faster rate.”

“Uhuh.”

“So I pulled out the dying plants and I noticed something common about all of them. They had these white spots all over the stems and the leaves. They were like spider webs but there were more webs then spiders and you know the plants closest to them started to have those white spots too.”

“Oh, okay so a little discoloration on leaves,” Levi said matter-of-factly.

“So what if those white things are diseases, and being closer to one another, they spread more easily. What if people stuck together in close quarters just end up getting sick with the same disease? Maybe there are these invisible particles that fly through the air and when they get into people, people get sick. Maybe there are special particles which can swim too and when people drink the water they get sick?

Levi went back to the reading as Hange continued to ramble on. Somehow her theory had become too far fetched, not worth the time of day to even listen to anymore

“Didn’t your mother die in a plague? What if those particles are what causes plagues? ”

                                      Trials and Tributes

Levi had to admit that at the moment Erwin had suggested that witches might not exist, he did not feel adamant at all or even indignant at that claim. A wave of relief had rushed through him and he found himself settling back down on the chair in shock, his plans to clear his desk forgotten.

“Hange traced the origin of the dysentery problem to the well at the center of town…” Levi said, mostly too himself. Suddenly the ramblings and the theories Hange had made years ago over tea and book readings were suddenly starting to make more sense. “Erwin, you might be right.”

Erwin and Levi found themselves making their way to the prison cell where Hange was being held to satisfy their own curiosity.

The guard was quick to leave as soon as Erwin and Levi entered. Levi stood by the door, keeping an ear open for any footsteps that might be coming too near, and might possibly hear their conversations.

It was his first time visiting her cell in days but he couldn’t help but notice she had lost weight since he last saw her. He made a mental note to sneak more food next time he came over.

“Hange, sorry to bother you but we have something we wanted to confirm with you,” Erwin started as he settled himself on a chair in front of her cell.

“Ask away. It’s not like I have anything better to do here.”

It’s not like I have anything better to do here. Hange had repeated that line so many times back in the cabin in the woods. The way she had said it then though was softer and alarmingly toneless. Levi snuck a glance at her face or at least what he could make out from his angle. She had bent her head down, not bothering to look up at both him and Erwin. From what he could make out though, her eyes were downcast and the glint was nothing more than a flicker of what it used to be. At that moment, she looked completely disconsolate.

“How did you trace the diseases back to the well?” It was Erwin who spoke up. In that few seconds of silence, it was probably only Erwin who would have had the strength to start the conversation.

“The dysentery problem?” Hange asked.

Erwin nodded. “Yes. The one they discussed in your trial.” An unnecessary clarification but somehow, Levi felt it was needed, to fill the silence in the room and hopefully to get Hange to talk.

“I did my research,” Hange answered. “I was getting more than a dozen patients a day. I asked them where they lived… What they ate…” Hange trailed off.

Once again, the three all waited in silence. As they sat, Levi stood. And as Levi stood, he continued to entertain thoughts in his head. His mind was racing and it felt like it was only getting faster.

Maybe there are these invisible particles that fly through the air and when they get into people, people get sick. Maybe there are special particles which can swim too and when people drink the water they get sick?

“Hange, you told me long ago that you think there are these invisible particles in the air that can swim. And when people accidentally eat them they get sick. Is that what made you think that it could have come from the well in the center of town?”

Hange nodded.

“Do you think that the plague that happened when we were eight was from those same invisible particles?” Levi pressed.

She nodded again.

Erwin looked up at Levi in surprise. Levi remembered then that he never did tell Erwin that Hange was not an enemy but in fact, a childhood friend. Erwin was sharp though and within seconds that look of surprise had shifted to one of understanding. Levi did not need to explain anything.

“Levi, do you believe I’m a witch?”

That was the moment the survivor instinct inside of him decided to make itself known. Witches can compel their victims. Witches can bewitch. It was a battle between that part of him that resisted the urge to believe her and the part of him that wanted to accept her, to trust her.

Hell. We’ve known each other for years. She hadn’t done anything then to break his trust. Actually, he was the one who had broken his promise years ago.

“I don’t know.” was all Levi could let out. Those two sides of him had settled for that as a compromise.

“I for one don’t believe in witchcraft,” Erwin admitted before Levi and Hange could react beyond Levi’s admittance of neutrality. “And I will do what I need to do to make these lynchings end. If I come across anything of interest, anything which can help your case, I’ll pass it on to you. Thank you for your cooperation Hange.”

With that, Erwin stood up and exited the room leaving Levi scrambling to pick up the pieces.

“Levi, let me ask you something.” Hange asked. “If I really were a witch, if I did have malevolent intentions, don’t you think I would have done something a long time ago already?”

What if she did it all to manipulate me. What if she needs me for some end goal.

“Don’t get me wrong Hange. I feel compelled to help you and I probably will anyway,” Levi answered. “I just can’t discount the fact that this could be manipulation on your end.”

Hange looked up at him and for the first time that night, Levi saw her face for what it was. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were red and the lines under her eyes were only more defined than they were before. He only had a split second though to take in those features before they oriented themselves into a familiar expression he had come to know so well.

A simple, maybe even naive smile. “If you believe you’re being manipulated, then I give you permission not to bend over back for me. I’m ready to die.”

That could have easily been interpreted as manipulation. As Hange said that, Levi only felt more determined to find a way to save her. He couldn’t help but note though the Hange he knew was straightforward and not at all manipulative. She had always said what she meant or so that was what he had believed.

Levi found himself questioning those voices in his head instead. Those voices that doubted Hange. Maybe they were the ones manipulating me.

Levi gripped at the bars tightly and leaned closer towards her or as close as he could get at least when they were separated by prison bars “I don't know if this is all a game. If it is, you’re doing good because either way, I’m going to do what I can so you can make it out of this alive."

"Right after saying you believe I'm a witch?"

"You were my best friend. I owe you my younger years." Levi answered. " And as your best friend, I'll find a way out of this for you. And if I need to, I’ll take you out of this country, I’ll bring you down south."

                              Trials and Tributes

It was a very cold night. So cold that Levi wished he could have put it off to another night. Given that Hange would be taking the swimming test the day after tomorrow, he knew he only had that night to test his plan for himself.

As soon as the bible tests were over, Levi had been assigned to find a place to execute the swimming test. Even before he had visited Hange in the dungeon that night with Erwin, the gears in his mind had already been moving to keep Hange alive.

He had done his research from talking to the townspeople about bodies of water, geography and nearby hiding places for criminals. For research. He had said then. Nobody did ask too much of it. He was a soldier after all who kept the peace of their kingdom.

The time he had spent collecting information had given him options. The cost benefit analysis he did given those options was what led him to decide on one particular cliff that overlooked the sea only a thirty minute carriage ride from her prison. The locals had mentioned that it was a good area for cliff diving, the water was of a fair depth that it would be safe to dive.

And that’s what I have to see for myself. It was going to be his job to push Hange into the water in less than 24 hours, the least he could do is try it himself.

It was a risky move. Especially when his cheeks were already turning numb from the cold. Levi had to admit he was probably risking his own life at that moment. As he removed his overcoat and the shirt underneath with the intention of diving into the water head first, Levi had to take multiple breaks. His body was protesting the action and the protest manifested itself as a light shudder every time the cool night breeze brushed passed him.

You’re bewitched. Those voices reminded him. Levi did not need to listen though. Before he could even allow himself a second thought about his decision, before his body and his survival instincts could push him back, Levi jumped headfirst into the black sea below him.

It would be his sense of touch leading him from then on.

From the moment he hit the water and dove deeper, he allowed himself a few minutes with his hands behind his back to simulate what Hange would be going through. He counted thirty seconds and by then, his lungs were starting to ache. He reached his hands out in front of him, relying on his recall of his last view illuminated by the moonlight to guide him where he needed to go.

He turned behind him. The cliff side should be here. He kept his hands in front of him as he swam in the direction where the cliffside should be located. Within seconds he felt it. And with it came a glimmer of hope.

That hope was what he needed badly. His lungs were crying and he knew he would need air soon. He could have easily gone up and breathed it himself. He was constantly reminded though that Hange would not have that same luxury and he pressed on. Holding on to the side of the cliff, he continued to swim.

It should be around here. His lungs were starting to scream and Levi knew he might not last any long. He started to scramble and move quicker. A generally bad idea when his oxygen and his time conscious was limited.

At that moment though, Levi had luck on his side. That empty space in between the cliffside was what he was looking for. Finding that gave him the second wind he needed. Levi only pushed further into the cavern. The path was narrow and consequently, quick and easy to feel his way through.

By the time Levi’s lungs were screaming once again, the energy from his second wind almost completely depleted, Levi had already made it into an open space and with his last burst of strength he shot his hand out above him.

It was as if a weight was lifted off of his shoulders both literally and figuratively. The air was much lighter on his body, especially on his lungs. Levi opened his eyes to see the moon above him.

The cave was generally closed, save for an opening on the roof that illuminated the cave enough for Levi to see where the sky and the walls of the cave meet. As Levi lay on the ground of the cave, he took in the view and focused on watching how the view shifted slightly with the rise and the fall of his chest.

The moon was beautiful. So beautiful that Levi almost considered spending the night in the cave despite the biting cold. Biting? That wasn’t the right word. Numbing maybe.

Numbing. That reminder of his own mortality and the possibility of death was what had Levi sit up and rush out of the cave, despite his subdued sense of touch.

He had to get out of there. He had to stay alive. He still had a job to finish.

                                        Trials and Tributes

The water shall refuse to receive in her bosom those who have shaken off the sacred water of baptism.

In the easiest of words, if Hange were to be proven innocent and completely human, she had to drown. That was how they had explained it to the multiple witch suspects that have died similarly.

“If you do drown, your place in heaven is guaranteed.” The bishop had said, as he explained the history of that trial to the crowd who had gathered by the cliff. Levi kept himself looking only towards Hange who stood next to him while the priest prattled on about their ‘guaranteed heaven.’ Those were the same people who had sold indulgences and places in heaven to the nobility long before.

He had never seen heaven. He had seen scams in action though and somehow that and his own generally negative opinion of the clergymen was all he needed to feel such a distaste for their actions.

Hange was in light garments despite the cool breeze that came with early spring. Levi wore something similar in the form of a cotton shirt and dress pants, a subtle gesture of solidarity on his end.

Hange Zoe. He only found himself looking back at the crowd and at the person in question when her name was mentioned. What followed the announcement of her names were cheers. But Levi knew it wasn’t anything to celebrate for him.

The crowd wanted to see blood. A potato sack was placed on the ground next to Hange and Levi felt his stomach drop as he started to comprehend the risk that came with his plan. Although he had simulated that same escape the night before, Hange would be faced with the extra challenge of cutting through the ropes and the sack before being able to dive and escape to the cave.

To balance it out at least, he had fed her as much information as he possibly could.

When you feel the wall in front of you, keep going left.

Dive when you feel the cliff turn rougher.

You’re going to have to dive down deep to find it.

Levi had racked his head for as much detail as he could as he oriented Hange to the location of the sea cave.

I’ll meet you there at night when it gets dark. I’ll send food. Then just stay in the cave until I can fix your papers and find you a way out of here.

While he helped Hange into the potato sack, he searched for an opening to dig his small dagger in between the tightly woven ropes, in preparation for their plan. As soon as he did, Hange touched the dull part of the blade with her fingers and tapped the side of his finger, a small gesture that she had understood what needed to do. The quick tap was somehow reassuring.

Good luck. Stay alive. He mouthed. She wouldn’t have heard it but he had not wanted to risk anything louder than that. Even with the deafening cheers of the crowd. Levi pulled the sack over her with the help of one of the guards. He had no time to even allow himself one last look at the knife digging into the ropes. He could not risk anyone finding it.

The other guard had offered to help Levi throw the sack over the cliff but Levi declined. He didn’t even trust himself to throw over the cliff. How could he trust anyone else?  Hange wasn’t heavy though. In fact, Levi was sure he had carried weapons much heavier and had shot arrows with draw weights much heavier than her.

Yet, her weight was crushing him  and Levi felt his arms going numb underneath him as he carried the sack towards the edge of the cliff.

The sack was warm, a little too warm. The contents of the sack reacted to every moment. As much as Levi had wanted to pretend that it was just a sack of potatoes or maybe even a dead body. He couldn’t. He closed his eyes for a second and had somehow felt a heartbeat beneath that potato sack. It was a little too fast and maybe even deafening.

Hange. That’s Hange. I’m holding Hange in my arms.

At that rate, Levi could not even tell if it was his own heart or hers. Will this work out? Will this be the last time I hear that heartbeat?

There was no turning back.

“Heave…” Levi pulled the sack behind him to gather some moment.

The heartbeat evolved from a canter to a gallop as he felt the strength quickly spread through his arms. He remembered then, he had an obligation to moderate his strength as well. He didn’t want her landing too far from the cliff either or worse, get seriously hurt on impact.

“Ho!” Levi threw the sack forward, slowing down as he did. All he needed to do was make sure the sack covered enough distance that she wouldn’t hit the cliffside prematurely

It was as if time slowed down when Levi found himself in a good position to let go of the sack. He had found himself peeling his hand from the sack, finger by finger. The heartbeat he had felt in the sack, the warmth were like the threads of a spider web, sticking to him so tenaciously, so desperately.

He didn’t want to let go.

                                    Trials and Tributes

“Wow! I didn’t think there would be this many types of knives. I’ve only ever played with a letter opener.”

“Don’t you have knives around here? How do you do research without them?” Levi asked half heartedly as he continued to polish his saxe knife.

“Well, I make my own. You don’t really need anything too sharp to be able to cut up leaves. Sometimes you can just do it like this.” Hange tore one of the oregano leaves a little more roughly to make her point.

“Well, fighting gets a little complicated apparently.” Levi positioned his knife in front of the window of the cabin and watched as the silver glistened under the sunlight that streamed through the window. “Uncle said this knife is strong enough to parry the blow of a sword. If you can control it…” Just imagining a sword coming down on a knife only a quarter of the size of a sword had Levi shuddering. One miscalculated movement and he could find himself three less fingers.

“Learning to use weapons takes time. And I doubt your uncle is gonna make you fight a swordsman just yet.”

“My uncle said he’ll teach the technique. I just have to do the drills he gives me everyday.”

Hange clumsily spun Levi’s throwing knife in her hand only to end up dropping it on the floor. She let out a disappointed sigh. “Hey Levi, after your uncle teaches you, can you teach me? I wanna learn how to handle a knife too.”

                                   Trials and Tributes

The sack they had pulled out of the water was stained red. And that blood stain covered half the sack.

While the clergymen and the guards were panicking at the missing body. Levi was alarmed for other reasons. Was she alive? Did she make it out safely?

He had hope for the luxury of letting out a tear, or rushing to the side of the cliff, kneeling down and looking closely at the water to maybe search for signs of life like a mad man. It would only be unwise to do such. The most he could allow himself was a catatonic state and maybe a twinge of envy at the clergymen who had the luxury to babble curses at the guard who had probably so incompetently left a hole in the sack to punch through.

Fortunately, no one was blaming him just yet. He didn’t want to give them the opening either. The matter at hand was time sensitive. If Hange wasn’t dead, she might still be flickering between life and death at the moment. He had to get to where she was soon.

He murmured a few words at the guard about wanting to check something and about them being able to go ahead and slowly walked away. Levi couldn’t run just yet, not when he was still within their field of view. To compensate though, his heart and his mind were racing. As he turned the corner and into the path which led to the cove and eventually to the sea cave, he was more quickly able to adjust to a sprint.

Levi had mentally readied himself to dive into the water even before he entered the cave. He had started to unbutton his own cotton shirt as he sprinted in, not wanting to waste any more time.

The rush and the panic that was only consuming him made him clumsy and a little awkward as he moved. The moment his plans and his expectations were subverted by the sight of a very wet and bloodied Hange kneeling on the ground next to the water, Levi ended up losing his balance and tripping on the floor right in front of her.

“You made it here alive… I was worried.” Levi managed to say as he pulled himself back up into a kneeling position. His knees and palms were starting to hurt and Levi was sure he would need to treat his own wounds a little later on.

“Yeah, I ended up cutting my wrist when I cut through the ropes...It bled out a lot but I never really was as coordinated as you are with knives... Sorry for putting that training you gave me to waste.” Hange was only rambling aimlessly. As Levi made eye contact with her, he noticed her eyes were still a little too wide and her smile too unnatural. Levi could not help but think that she had felt the same way he did when he had first arrived in that same cave a few nights before. Her face had shown it all. She was just as surprised to be alive as he was.

But she is alive. That’s all that mattered. Levi would have wanted to hug her then but at the same time he did not want to lose sight of her. He settled for putting his hand on her arm and gripped hard. “At this point Hange, I don’t care if you’re a fucking witch or not. If you are, save yourself. Run away. Go save some other kids. Go discover a plague before it happens. You don't deserve this. Nobody deserves the shit they put you through. I’ll get you out of here if I need to.”

Hange returned his strong grip on her arm by gripping his wrist. For a second, her face was unreadable. Then soon after something took over and that face had morphed into something wild and even primitive. It was as if Hange was possessed. Suddenly she was squeezing his wrist much harder than Levi had ever expected from her. He let out a groan of pain as he recoiled at the sudden attack.

Hange threw his hand back at him and snarled. "Don’t touch me!"

And just like that, it was as if he was talking to a completely different person. Or a completely different creature.

[niuniente]

Title: A Troll Who Didn’t Purr Fandom: Trollhunters Rating: PG Warnings: None Prompt #: 6 “Yes, I’m aware. Your point?” Relationship: Barbara Lake/Walter Strickler/Angor Rot  Character(s): Barbara Lake, Walter Strickler, Angor Rot, Jim Lake Jr., Blinky Additional Tags:  Stricklakerot, Polyship, Comfort, Oneshot  Notes: This is not proofread as I couldn't find myself a proofreader. Also in AO3 Summary:  Every troll purrs when happy. If not, there's something wrong with the troll.

“Blinky! Blinky!”

A storming sound of running feet accompanied the loud cries of Blinky’s name. It all started so suddenly Blinky almost fell from the small stool he was standing on in front of his bookshelf.

Three human teenagers rushed to the room.

“Ah, Claire, Toby and Master Jim. What with this ruckus? Is something wrong?” Blinky asked, deciding it was perhaps the best if he came down from the stool on a steady floor.

Claire had a big book in her arms. It covered almost half of her body.

“We were cleaning the storage, just like you asked, and found this”, she said, lifting the book up to get a better hold of it.

Blinky peered down at the book. It was red, very dusty and clearly very, very old. His eyes brightened.

“Ah, The Complete Guide to Troll Cultures by Rogney-Ragney Wisepants!” he breathed, delighted. “So that’s where I had put it. I was wondering where it was.”

“There was so much weird info in the book”. Toby patted the book’s cover. “Show him, Claire.”

Claire carried Rogney-Ragney Wisepant’s book to Blinky’s table, pushing it further from her. The front cover was so heavy she had to open it with both hands. Jim was next to her going through the pages to help her out.

“Here!” Jim said, tapping the brownish yellow page with his index finger. “It says here that trolls purr.”

Blinky at the other side of the table looked baffled. “Oh, but yes, they do. Rogney-Ragney wrote that book centuries ago so some of the troll customs have changed – the same happens in all cultures – but all trolls are capable of purring.”

The kids looked at one another. Toby’s eyebrows knitted together.

“Then why haven't we heard it?” he asked.

 “Young Tobias, trolls purr only on special occasions. Either, when they are very happy and content, or when they are hunting for cats,” Blinky explained, smiling.

Toby’s frown just grew deeper.

“Oh,” he sighed, “I have not heard Aaaaargh purr so does it mean he’s not been happy around me?”

“Aaaaargh is… different,” Blinky said, rubbing his four palms. His eyes were concerned. “What he was put through when he was a small whelp… It changed him. Unfortunately, Aaaaargh never learned to purr.”

“So purring is not a natural behavior?” Claire looked at Blinky.

“No, not at all. It needs to be learned, just like any language or a form of communication. Nevertheless, all trolls are able to purr and will do that when they are extremely happy and content. Aaaargh is just a rare exception. But please, do not bring it up when he is around. This is a sensitive subject to our beloved friend Aaaaargh.”

“Would you say that trolls purr with their partners?” Jim asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

Blinky nodded.

“Yes, though it depends a bit on a troll culture when purring with a partner is accepted and when not. There are regulations, different courting methods, some waiting times and---”

“I got it!” Jim hastily stopped Blinky, before he would start a twenty-minute lecture of troll purring. “Thanks, Blinky.”

      Walter could hear footsteps behind his back. He recognized them immediately and looked over his shoulder to see Jim approaching him during his dishwashing turn.

“Strickler, can I ask something?” Jim leaned against the kitchen counter next to Walter.

A faint smile appeared in Walter's corner of his mouth. His eyes returned to the delicate wine glass he was cleaning.

“Of course. Shoot me, Jim.”

“It’s kinda like… man to man?” Jim circled, searching for his words.

“Trust me: I have heard many man to man talks during my very, very long life,” Walter said, giving a quick soft look at Jim. “You can talk to me about anything and ask about anything.”

“Well,” Jim took a deep breath. “I spoke with Blinky earlier today. Turns out trolls purr.”

“Yes, they do.”

“They purr when they are very happy and content, especially with partners.”

“Uh-huh, and when they hunt cats for a dinner”, Walter added, finishing cleaning the wine glass and reaching out for a new one from the debts of the foaming water.

“It’s just, that you and mom look really happy---”

“---But I don’t purr?” Walter finished Jim’s sentence. Jim nodded.

“That’s because I’m a changeling, not a troll. We can’t purr. Did Blinky tell you that purring needs to be learned?”

Jim inspected Walter’s face and thought he saw a hint of melancholic sadness in his eyes. Jim straightened his posture.

“Yeah, he said that. Makes sense. You grew up with humans.”

“As one of them. Humans do not purr, so I have not learned it.”

“Can you learn as an adult?” Jim asked and got a shake of a head from Walter as an answer.

“It needs to be learned when you are small. I’m afraid my chances for that are long gone,” Walter chuckled, but the small hint of sadness didn’t leave his eyes. Jim cleared his throat and reached to pat Walter on his upper arm.

“Thanks. I needed to hear that. It means you and mom are genuinely happy.” He did his best to give Walter a reassuring smile. “And I think mom likes you, whether you purr or not.”

Walter smiled softly back at Jim.

“To be honest, I don’t think I’d be that comfortable with such trollish behavior. I’m happy to show my affection to my loved ones in other ways – like doing dishes and looking after the house while Barbara is at work.” Walter gestured to the full sink.

Jim rolled his sleeves up.

“Want help?”

“Please. I’d be delighted.”

     “Mom. Did you know that trolls purr?” Jim asked when Barbara was leaving his room.

“Purr?” Barbara asked, turning back to Jim at the door frame.

“Yeah. I heard about it from Blinky. Though Strickler doesn’t purr because he is not a full blood troll.”

“No. I didn’t know. Interesting. It makes them sound a bit like cats, doesn’t it?” Barbara mulled the thought over. “Very, very big and stony cats!”

“Oh yeah and Aaaaargh doesn’t purr either, as he never learned to purr,” Jim continued.

“They need to learn that?”

“Yes, like any other language,” Jim nodded at Barbara.

Barbara rubbed her chin, humming. Her arms crossed over her chest as her chin pressed down. Then her chin rose up as she pushed her head backwards, letting out a long, thoughtful hum.

“I have never heard a troll purr, but perhaps someday I can hear that. I want to hear if it sounds like a cat's purring or if it’s different”, she said, sounding so serious it made Jim chuckle.

“I’m sure you will hear it someday, mom,” Jim said. Barbara smiled at him.

“I look forward to that. But now, bedtime, young man. You have a school day tomorrow.”

“Friday!” Jim rejoiced. “Just one more day and then it's the weekend!”

“The more reasons to go to bed. The sooner you fall asleep, the faster tomorrow arrives”, Barbara said, pointing her finger playfully at Jim. Jim groaned, but couldn’t hide his grin.

“Mom, I’m not a first grader anymore.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Barbara said, slowly closing Jim’s room’s door.

“Goodnight, mom.”

Jim crawled under his duvet, snuggling his body into a comfortable position. He closed his eyes and thought about what he should do on the weekend. Perhaps a movie evening at Claire’s home. Or a game evening with Toby. Or perhaps he could learn more how to use knives at fights with Angor Rot.

Suddenly, Jim’s eyes shot open.

Angor Rot!

    Angor Rot was sitting in the backyard of Lakes’ house, carving something with great detail and care. Jim padded next to him, wrapping a blanket tighter around his body to shield himself against the too crispy fall night.

“Boy, it is a night. You should be in bed,” Angor Rot said, never lifting his case from his craft.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he lied.

“If you think I will cast a spell on you so that you fall asleep, forget it. My spells aren’t really that kind and good for peoples’ bodies.”

“No, I just wanted to ask something. I think I’ll be able to sleep after that.”

That seemed to get Angor’s attention. His head rose up and he turned slowly to look at Jim; his hands still frozen halfway into a cut through the carved figure. He waited.

“Ah well,” Jim began, shifting his weight from one leg to another. “Now that you live here together with Strickler, mom and me, I take that… you are happy here?” Jim asked hesitantly.

Angor’s lips parted in a surprise. He composed himself quickly.

“Yes. This is a good house. You are a good son. Strickler and Barbara are good mates and I do my best to be worthy of being their mate,” Angor replied.

“Well, uh… Mom said that she has never heard a troll purr…” Jim said quietly, looking at his feet.

Angor’s yellow eyes widened. He turned his head away from Jim with a stern expression. He grunted.

“Yes, I’m aware of that. Your point?”

“…My—My point? No point really,” Jim stammered, sensing it was not a good idea to ask more about the subject. “Just… purr for mom once. Someday. If you are happy. And if you want to do that, that is!” he quickly added.

Angor didn’t say anything. Just returned back to his craft. Jim rubbed his neck, feeling awkward.

“So, uh. Goodnight?” he tried, feeling how his cheeks were getting red from the awkwardness.

“Like I said, I will do my best to be worthy of Barbara,” Angor said, keeping his head turned away from Jim.

Something in the way Angor said that made Jim think that maybe purring was hard for him. Perhaps Angor was like Aaaargh who never learned to purr, or perhaps his culture was like Strickler’s changeling culture where purring had no role in. Jim had a sense it was perhaps to let the subject go, so he gave Angor a small smile and a positive nod.

“OK. Speaking of mom, I have to slip back inside before she spots me out here. Goodnight.”

“Sleep well, son.”

      “Blinky, can trolls stop purring?” Jim asked. His eyebrows had knitted deeply together and drawn a line over his forehead. Blinky stopped on his tracks to a sock snack bar and turned to face Jim.

“It is possible, Master Jim. Purring is semi-autonomous behavior and trolls can control it on some levels. Like if you get hungry, Master Jim, you can stand your hunger until it is the best time to eat. Trolls can do that with purring. Just like with food, some trolls are better at controlling themselves than others when it comes to purring.”

Jim looked up at Blinky’s face, concerned.

“But what if the troll doesn’t purr at all? Like Aaaargh but with an ability to purr?”

“You mean that if the troll chooses not to purr?”

“Yeah, even when there was no reason for that, let’s say, the troll culture norms”, Jim replied, pushing his hands down to his jeans’ pockets. “It’s something bad, isn’t it?”

Blinky’s all eight eyes had a worried expression in them.

“Well, it is possible with a traumatic event, Master Jim. I know that humans can lose the ability to speak after a traumatic life event. Trolls can lose an ability both to speak and purr in a similar situation. Usually speaking returns first, if both are lost, but even if the troll keeps their ability to speak after being badly hurt, they often lose their ability to purr. Purr is heavily related to relaxation and peace, so it is natural for a troll with a trauma disorder or other trauma related problems not to purr in any circumstances,” Blinky explained, watching how Jim’s face darkened the longer he spoke.

“Can a troll with a trauma get their purring back?” Jim inquired.

“Positively, but every troll has their own healing time based on the severity of the trauma and their natural resilience.”

Jim nodded, smiling a bit too weakly to cover his worry from Blinky.

“Thanks for the answer. I suspected something like that.” 

      A few months later from the day Jim had spoken with Barbara about the troll purr, Barbara and Strickler thought they heard Angor Rot purr faintly while he laid on his side in the bed between them. First, it sounded like soft snoring, but when the sound didn’t have a steady rhythm like a snore – instead, it ran as a one long line – they knew it was a purr.

Small, faint, barely audible, but a purr, nevertheless.

They took a look at one another over Angor’s relaxed body. Barbara couldn’t hide a small giggle and Strickler had to compose his face back to a poker look when Angor’s eyes shot open and he glared at Strickler.

“What?” he barked, his face towards Strickler and back to Barbara.

“No-nothing. I just think this bed is still a bit too tiny for us three. Isn’t it, dear?” He stretched his neck to look at Barbara, who was clearly enjoying the tiny purr with a warm smile on her face.

“Definitely!” Barbara agreed, patting Angor’s shoulder. “I think we should add one more extension to the bed for us all to lay here comfortably.”

Angor shifted a bit. “I can do that tomorrow,” he said, still purring underneath his breath.

“No, not you. We all. Let’s do it together,” Barbara said.

“Absolutely! Troll nest building is a job for all the mates, isn’t it?” Strickler was nodding. His eyes directed at Angor’s face. “You don’t have to do everything alone. Not anymore. Ok?”

Angor averted his eyes and nodded.

Barbara was sure she could pick up Angor’s purring getting slightly louder.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Sort of an odd question, I guess, but can you think of what sorts of things helped distinguish character voice in Animorphs? I've wanted to write a series like it since I was a kid, with rotating narrators and the like, but I worry that my characters' narration gets kinda "same-y" and I remember Animorphs being pretty good about keeping them distinct. Any thoughts on the ways the kids' narration voices were differentiated?

I think where K.A. Applegate is an absolute master of character voice is the margin of unreliability within which she operates.  The characters don’t lie to the reader, and they pretty much never lie to themselves, but their attention is drawn to different details as dictated by their own biases and preferences and goals and experiences.  They can watch the same battle happen at the same time and come away with six subtly different interpretations.  One of the many, many great meta-commentaries in #54 is when Marco says:

Jake was too serious and heavy for the media… everyone acted like they wantedJake to do their show, but Jake wasn’t really into that game and the bookers for the shows knew it.Jake did not do good panel… As for Cassie, well, she was worse, if that’s possible. She had the tendency to wander around in all the moral subtext of everything. She’d take some story about a cool, rock ‘em sock 'em battle we’d been in and turn it into this mope about the morality of self-defense.

It’s a great way of summing up the character voices while gently poking fun at them as well.  Jake takes a serious, heavy view of most battles, and he focuses on all of the ways that he could have done things differently to prevent most of the risk.  That means that his perspective is very much caught up in the moment-to-moment question of what’s happening and what he has to do about it.  He doesn’t really ask the deep questions.  That said, he does break the fourth wall and talk to the reader more so than any other narrator.  Usually he’s apologizing, or trying to explain himself, or going “look, I know this makes me look bad, but here goes.”  He has the least distance from whatever’s happening in any given moment, and yet we also get the sense that his narrative voice is an older and more regretful person than the guy we meet in the first book.  If the Animorphs are running from an army of taxxon-controllers, his focus is going to be on all the ways he could’ve decided differently to avoid this situation in the first place.

Cassie, by contrast, does absolutely get caught up in the major questions and paradoxes implied by the Animorphs’ existence.  She’s the one to worry that controlling a morph is no better than controlling a host, the one who admits that she doesn’t have all the answers but asks the questions anyway.  During the down times, she worries not about the “best” way to fight the war (the way Jake does) but about the individual hosts and yeerks and baby skunks they’re harming in their effort to protect everyone.  If the Animorphs are running from an army of taxxon-controllers, her focus is going to be on the animals and civilians that are going to be harmed by the crossfire of this particular conflict.

Marco isn’t quite as blasé about the violence of the war as he makes himself out to be in that quote, but then Marco’s most characteristic narration quirk is that he is the least honest with himself and the reader.  Again, he doesn’t outright lie (the wildly-unreliable narrator was cliché in Edgar Allan Poe’s time, and that’s not even getting into the ableist tripe put out by bad Chuck Palahniuk emulators) because having a character outright lie or dream or hallucinate rapidly renders the entire story meaningless.  However, he tends to adopt whichever zoom lens will allow him to make the story funny and glorious rather than the zoom lens that runs the risk of revealing his vulnerabilities.  If the Animorphs are running from an army of taxxon-controllers, he’s either going to be zoomed way out to comment on the ridiculousness of giant Very Hungry Caterpillars running down a bunch of dumbass fursonas, or he’s going to be zoomed in far enough to complain about the fact that he already got his 10,000 steps today and yet here he is still stepping.  Either way, he’s going to adopt the perspective that almost keeps you from noticing how exhausted and terrified he is the entire time.

Rachel’s narration is all about turning situations into battles, preferably with herself on the side of righteousness and her enemies presented as the ultimate challenge.  Rachel is no bully (*cough* unlike early-series Marco *cough*) because she never ever takes on a weaker opponent, but she wants to fight everyone from her own uncomfortable emotions to God the Ellimist himself.  She tends to cast everything from bickering with Jake or hunting for bargains into a grand struggle, and she is always trying to figure out who is powerful and who is not so that she can defend the powerless through kicking ass on the powerful.  That’s a big part of the reason she’s so good to Tobias — she is gruffly affectionate or tough and defensive depending on what he needs — and part of the reason she often succeeds in supporting Marco when Jake fails to do so.  If the Animorphs are running from an army of taxxon-controllers, she’s going to be focused on turning the chase into a struggle, some kind of battle that she doesn’t even have to win, just as long as she has the chance to put the hurt on the people who would try and harm the powerless.

Ax is an interesting case in that he’s not necessarily talking to the reader; he’s talking to the Andalite War Council and possibly the entire Andalite Electorate.  A lot of the time his narration also mismatches the reality of the situation, but generally that’s because of biases in his perception rather than deliberate decisions about how to tell a particular story.  Ax has some great dramatic-irony moments during his more humorous scenes, because his narration is all about missing facets of human society that are obvious to every human reader (American ones especially) while trying to explain to his superiors that he’s doing just fine.  He has growing tension between his duty and the realization that the andalites’ imperialist bullshit is a bunch of imperialist bullshit, but he nevertheless toes the line of justifying his decisions through using what he was taught at the andalite academy.  If the Animorphs are running from an army of taxxon-controllers, he’s going to be explaining how he calmly assessed the situation and decided it would be for the best to run from the army while also noticing that it might not be The Warrior Way but it keeps them all alive and so he doesn’t necessarily care about being by the book at the expense of his team’s lives.

Tobias thinks too much.  I think it’s partially a side effect of the fact that he spends a lot of time alone — and unlike Ax, doesn’t get lonely when he doesn’t have company.  He really tries to get at the answers to the questions that Cassie just asks for their own sakes, and tends to obsess over the idea of there being moral rights and wrongs.  That said, Tobias’s distant and occasionally-detached perspective on the series means that he embraces the cheerful nihilism and darkly absurdist humor of the 2010s way ahead of the curve.  He’s the one most likely to announce casually that it doesn’t matter that the Animorphs lost a particular battle because the Earth is going to be absorbed by the sun in a total-planetary extinction event in a couple million years anyway, and the one least likely to care about needing strict definitions for his relationship with Rachel or his “half hawk, half human, half andalite” status (MM3).  If the Animorphs are running from an army of taxxon-controllers, then Tobias is going to have a literally distant perspective as he watches from overhead and herds all the others to safety, but he’s also going to have a metaphorically distant perspective as he unflinchingly assumes that this will be the last battle the Animorphs can expect to survive.

Anyway, I think that that’s what makes really REALLY good character voice.  It’s not a huge margin of uncertainty where we don’t even know what’s real and what isn’t.  (Again: 99% of those narrators are ableist as fuck, and 99% of those plots are frustratingly nonsensical to try and read.  Dream plots have never not been silly, and psychosis plots have never not been ableist.)  It’s not a tiny margin of uncertainty where we’re essentially reading a reporting of the events of the war without commentary.  It’s a more-or-less faithful rendering of the events of the war, with a focus on the aspects of any given scene that that particular character has reason to care about.  It’s subtle.  It’s complex, but simple and clean on the surface.  It’s masterfully done.

[frenchlangdon]

Late Night Louisiana Pt. 9

A/N: this is the calm before the storm. Shit is about to go down. I’ll be posting part 10 tomorrow hopefully. I have a question... Sunteți gata soldat?

LNL Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire!bucky x reader

Bruce only stayed a few days. They headed out this morning. I spent all of my time with Alexandra and Bruce. I didn’t notice Steve’s absence until Tobias pointed it out. After about an hour of Tobias arguing with me, he finally convinced me to go Steve’s home and talk. Bucky was out, doing vampire things. But Tobias thinks he’s out in the woods hunting.

After some subtle stalling I finally left the bookshop and made my way to Steve’s.

What are we supposed to talk about? How can I not make it awkward? I have no idea, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. God help me, seriously.

How do I greet him? What am I supposed to say when he opens the door?

Steve, I’m sorry we haven’t been— no.

Hey, Steve. I was thinking maybe we could talk about what— NO!

Hey! Steve!— why am I like this? I roll my eyes. Get this together Y/N!

Steve, can we talk?

Steve, we should talk.

Steve, I think we need to talk.

Hey, Steve, I think we should talk.

Hey, we need to talk.

Is that too straight forward? Too pushy? God, who knows. Not me! It’s gonna have to do.

But where do I go from there?

As soon as I ask myself that question I’m already at his door. How do I knock? Should I do three knocks? Four? Five? Is five too much? Why am I overthinking this? It’s literally just me knocking on his door.

I knock three times. Yes, three, perfect amount of knocks if you ask me. Seconds later the door opens and there he is, standing tall, looking great, might I add.

I open my mouth to say what I rehearsed in my head, but to my luck, nothing came out. “Would you like to come inside?” He smiled and stepped to the side. “Yes.” I whispered. Where did my voice go?

I followed him inside and into his living area. We both sat on his lounge. It was quite for a minute, his body slouched as his head hung low and I sat there staring at the wall trying to put together a sentence in my head.

“Do you really love me?” I asked. I looked to him. With his head still hung low he nodded.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I rest my hand on his shoulder. “Didn’t have the guts to.” He chuckled and looked up at me. “Steve, the most courageous man I know, couldn’t tell little ole me that he had feelings for me?” He chuckled. “You’re a kind woman, Y/N. You’re a great friend. I just don’t want to lose you.” He sat up straight, now looking down at me.

“You could never lose me Steve.” I cupped his cheek. “But do I have a chance?” He asked.

How do I answer that? Bucky and I aren’t exactly a thing, are we? “I— Things are complicated, Steve. They’re just really complicated.” I gave him a sympathetic smile. I could just feel the pain radiating off of him. “I understand.”

“Steve, I’m so sorry.” I withdrew my hand from his face and faced straight forward.

“Do you love him?”

“I think so. I-I don’t know.” My throat felt like it was tightening, it felt like there was a rope fastened around it. Saying that out loud... it scared me. Loving someone and confessing it out loud is a scary yet amazing thing.

Being vulnerable... it’s feels good to be vulnerable.

“He seems like a good guy, Y/N.”

I look back to him and see he’s smiling. “Really?” I asked in a hopeful tone. Was this Steve telling me he approves of Bucky? Was this... him letting me go?Him letting his feelings go. Is that possible? To let something you love go? He just nodded. He took my hand into his. “I want you to be happy.”

“But Steve... you—”

“As long as your my friend I’ll be the second happiest man alive.”

“Second?” I tilt my head in confusion.

“The first happiest man alive is Bucky. I’d hope.” He teased. I laughed and hit his chest. There was a moment of silence. I didn’t know what else to say cause after all I’m not good with this kind of stuff. I’m the worse, if you can’t already tell.

“Anyways, Alexandra was really happy to see her Aunt Y/N.” I beamed at the mention of her name.

“Yes! I love that little girl with all of my heart.”

“Do you ever plan on having kids?”

“Of course! I’ve always loved kids. And the thought of having kids of my own... my heart skips a beat when I think of them. I have no plans on having them within the year but I just can’t wait to meet them, ya know? Can’t wait to hold em and love em.” I trace patterns on the fabric of my trousers as I imagine little me’s running around. They’d be trouble makers, that’s for damn sure. Lord help me when I do have them.

“You’ll be a great mother. I hope you know that.” He rested a hand on top of my knee.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Thank you Steve. Really. You’re kind to me, even when you shouldn’t be.”

“You’ve never done me wrong. I have no reason to treat you poorly.”

After another hour of talking, I hugged him tightly, kissed his cheek, and bid him a goodbye.

I made my way home, once I walked in I saw Bucky sitting at the table. “You really need chairs with cushions or something.” He laughed and stood up. He was right, the chairs do nothing but harm for your bottom. I’ve just never had thought of buying cushions, never crossed my mind for some reason. “Welcome home.” He said. I waked over to him, I held his face in my hands. “Missed you.” He mumbled. “I missed you too.”

We stared into each other’s eyes, I felt safe. I felt so damn safe just being in his presence. “I know this might sound strange... but I love you.” His hands went over mine. “And I mean it.”

I stayed quiet and looked to the ground. “Are you... are you sure?” I looked back up to him, a frown present on his face. “Of course.” The warmth of his hands disappeared then reappeared but on my cheeks. I closed my eyes as I focused on his touch. I could just melt into his hands. It felt good to be touched. To be wanted. To be loved.

It felt so damn good. The intimacy felt heavenly. The confession gave me relief. Relief of what, you may ask. I have no idea.

“I need some air.” I took a step back from him, letting go. I turned to walk out and heard him behind me. I stopped in my tracks and turned my head to the side, seeing him stop in the corner of my eye.

“I need to be alone. Just for a couple of minutes, Buck. I’ll be back before you know it”

I just needed a couple minutes to myself to try and figure out what I want to tell him. I want to open up fully to him but before I let down all of my walls I have to mentally prepare myself. Give myself a little pep talk, if you will.

“Yeah. Okay. Sure.”

I closed the door behind me and started walking out into the woods that surround my cabin.

It was dark, the moon providing the only light.

I sat against the trunk of a tree and just stared up at the moon. What the hell... What the hell! So I’m in love with an extremely handsome and good hearted va— man. And he’s in love with me. Not too complicated... it’s actually not complicated at all. I’m just stressing myself out over nothing. I should be happy and content not stressed and overthinking.

I’m just gonna go back and tell him that I love him.

I heard leaves crunch behind me. I jump up to my feet and then suddenly I’m falling right back mto the ground.

Everything goes black.

Tags: @booktease21 @lbuck121

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