#baby me was at a book fair and saw this in the sea of colorful titles

[notnights]

This book is the reason why I'm Into That Shit.

[jeune-biblio-fille]

( shay mitchell, demiwoman, she/they ) — Look who it is! If you take a look at our database, you’ll find that ESTELLE MANALO TOUSSAINT (alias ESTELLE GIROUX ) is a thirty year old THIEF that’s been in Chicago for TWO YEARS. According to the file, they’re a mutant on LEVEL 2 with the power of INTANGIBILITY. That must be why they’re ADAPTABLE and MISCHIEVOUS. If you ask me, they remind me of candlelight and champagne in crystal glasses, thick stacks of cash held in manicured hands, the scent of the sea carried by a warm breeze, and stacks of old books with gilded spines and worn covers. They are affiliated with NO ONE.

@forwardintros || pinterest under the cut: basic info, appearance, personality, bio, present day

BASIC INFO

FULL NAME: estelle manalo toussaint NICKNAMES: stella, ma petite étoile (to her parents) AGE: thirty BIRTHDATE: june 11, 1992, 6:28am GENDER: demiwoman PRONOUNS: she / they SEXUALITY: bisexual ;) SPECIES: mutant AFFILIATION: no one

APPEARANCE

HEIGHT: 5’8” / 172cm BUILD: athletic with a fair amount of muscle tone, especially in her arms HAIR COLOR: black EYE COLOR: deep brown ETHNICITY: filipino, irish, scottish, french NATIONALITY: french TATTOOS: ( 1 ) a delicate underbust piece consisting of a cresting wave in the shape of a crescent moon, with smaller moons on each side depicting its various phases. above the crescent is a many rayed sun, and below it hang delicate lines which look like strings of beads ( 2 ) three massive peonies in full bloom that curl over her right thigh and hip, surrounded by their artfully arranged foliage, all richly shaded and rendered in fine, delicate detail PIERCINGS: earlobes and upper earlobes, three upper helix piercings in their left ear, their right nostril — though she only wears a tiny stud, and both nipples SCARS: a little burn scar on her left wrist from a small kitchen mishap while she was distracted, and a perfect circle in the center of her right palm, also found on the back of her right hand, from an experiment with her powers that went wrong OTHER: usually has stiletto nails

PERSONALITY

ALIGNMENT: ZODIAC: sun: gemini, moon: scorpio, rising: gemini TRAITS: friendly, talkative, observant, curious, mischievous, hedonistic, versatile, selfish

BIO

estelle was born bright and early in the morning in her father’s hometown of toulon, provence, france. her name, chosen together by her parents, is the provençal word for star, for she was one of many lights her parents saw themselves blessed with. imelda, their mother, was a level three mutant whose abilities could only be described as a gift — a siren song which enthralled the listener to her will. this gift naturally begot many others. it had absolutely nothing to do with thomas, estelle’s ( human ) father, falling in love with her though, seeing as he was born Deaf

both of her parents loved the sea, imelda having grown up in manila and thomas on southern coast of france. it seemed that estelle had somehow inherited this from them — even as a baby they adored the water, and this never changed. when she was old enough, her father started bringing her and her mother out on his fishing boat on the weekends, which became a well-loved family tradition after a while

if her first love was her parents, and her second was the sea, then her third would have been books .    estelle was a fiend for them from the very beginning, and read them as quickly as she could get her hands on them. but she didn’t love them only for their stories, she loved them for their craftsmanship as well — the smell of ink and paper and the smooth feel of a worn cover under her hands

at thirteen years old estelle discovered her mutation in what was a both terrifying and objectively hilarious experience — she sneezed and this somehow triggered her mutation ( intangibility ) which resulted in her dropping into the living room below – passing through her own bed, the floor, and the chandelier on the way down. luckily, her mother was able to find her a ‘ private tutor ’ who could help her learn to control her powers

soon she took up a new ‘ extracurricular activity ’ — pickpocketing .   her targets were the juiciest and most justifiable ones of all: rich white tourists .    it was the most exciting thing she had ever done. in the beginning she only wanted the money to buy more books, but before long she was doing it for the thrill . still buying books with the cash though, that never really stopped. in all truth though she was itching to go after things other than simple money, but refused to take the risk that her parents would discover her hobby

at eighteen estelle moved out and into her own apartment. she completed university with a degree in historical literature while living by herself, and thanks in no small part to her “ extra revenue stream ” estelle was thriving by the time she graduated. it had also become clear to her that an ordinary life was not something she was interested in. estelle had found her fourth major love in life — stealing .    taking something that wasn’t hers, something she wasn’t even supposed to be able to get her hands on was thrilling . and the money, and all the wonderful things it could buy? oh, estelle liked those far too much to give them up so easily. in fact, she wanted more .

between the time she graduated and her thirtieth birthday just this summer, estelle has spent her time honing her skills, performing heists of various and sometimes dizzying intensity, and developing a taste for all things glittering and jeweled in addition to her ongoing love for books.

while she does have a bit of a selfish streak ,  she’s very free with her money, often leaving behind ridiculously large tips at restaurants and the like. it’s not like it’s hard for her to get more, why not share a little? if you took something from her, though, that’d be an entirely different story

PRESENT DAY:

lake michigan isn’t quite the same as the sea back in toulon, but estelle finds herself spending a lot of time on its shores anyway. the rush of the water is calming and familiar — it helps make chicago feel more like home

brunch is her favorite meal of the day. and if they’re serving mimosas, even better! cute little bistros are a frequent stop for her, and she will drag you out for a bite to eat if you try to befriend her, don’t try to stop it. and no, you won’t be paying

she’s been poking around for information about the ammo escapees, but hasn’t made contact with any of them yet. some of them may have noticed her asking questions, but she’s not too worried

single and ready to mingle ;)

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Paws

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: (picks up S.O. turning into a cat fanfics) I just think they’re neat. Shinobu might not like it, but it's better than those toy-story-looking-baby-head-spiders from Natagumo Mountain, am I right? Word Count: 7,999

Shinobu had a choice variety of things she’d have liked to say in that moment. Many were colorful, but few could be said in polite company. Still, Shinobu let the words fly free, for she knew it didn’t matter what she yelled out to the universe. Not unless someone could translate the pitiful meows that fell from her whiskered maw.

Yes, Shinobu knew that demon she had destroyed the night prior had done something strange to her with its blood art, but she had prepared herself for every probable poison or venom that had entered her skin. She wasn’t careless, there just wasn’t an antidote she had that could cure the ailment that had befallen her as she slept.

When she had awoken in the unfamiliar surroundings of the inn she was boarding, she didn’t notice an immediate difference. She stretched groggily, yawned, exhaled... but when went to muss up her hair to scratch an itch tickling at her scalp, she caught sight of a little black paw instead of her hand.

She darted backward, getting caught in the sea of covers and clothing, ensnaring herself like a roll of fish and rice encased in seaweed. She struggled for a moment, groaning to herself. At least, it was supposed to be a groan. The sound that met Shinobu’s ears sounded more like the warning sound of an agitated alley cat. She ceased her wiggling immediately, frozen. She tentatively opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

“Meow...?”

No. Oh no, that was not at all what Shinobu had wanted to say. She tried again.

“Mew.”

Different, but no less depressing.

“Mowww.”

Now that just sounded down right pitiful.

Shinobu wiggled against the weight of the fabrics around her lithe body, somehow managing to, quite literally, claw her way free.

She took a look at her surroundings. Her haori was draped over the hanging rack near the room’s desk. On the desk sat her uniform, neatly folded with her butterfly hairpin sitting on top and her nichirin blade propped up against the worn, wooden chair. Below her she saw the yukata she had worn to bed crumpled in the sheets of the futon and the little black paw she had seen before had been joined by another just beside it.

Shinobu skittered back a meter, dismayed when the paws followed the action. She spun around on the futon and caught a glimpse of a fluffy black tail and blanched. Well, as best she could in her current predicament.

‘No, no, no...’ Shinobu thought to herself as she clumsily made her way to the desk. She recalled a small hand mirror she had seen the night before. Surely that would clear this whole thing up, right? She shimmied, preparing herself for the first jump, making it to the chair. She cringed at the sound of her blade clattering to the ground before jumping again to the flat surface of the desk. Shinobu spotted the hand mirror and cautiously pawed towards it. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply before leaning over the glass. Then she cracked an eye open, peering down.

Purple, yes, that was familiar. Those were her eyes, but she certainly didn’t have shiny, black fur and whiskers and little black, triangle shaped ears on the top of her head and—

“Mowww!” Shinobu cursed aloud, finding some strange feeling of satisfaction in knocking the hand mirror to the floor below. Yet that was quickly doused by the sense of dread that hung over her.

She, Kochou Shinobu, had been turned into a detestable, furry little creature. A cat.

“Is everything alright in there miss? I heard a couple loud thumps coming from here.”

There was no human reply of course, but Shinobu leapt off of the desk and padded towards the door, pawing at it, hoping the innkeeper’s daughter would let her curiosity get the better of her and open the door.

“Miss? Are you well?”

No, Shinobu certainly was not well. But if the girl could let her out of this room she could see herself feeling just a small fraction better. She clawed at the wooden frame. If she had to pay for the damages so be it.

“Miss, I’m coming in. Pardon the intrusion...”

The door finally slid to the side and the innkeeper’s daughter peered inside.

“Hello?”

“Meow.”

The girl startled, her head snapped down to her feet. Shinobu sat in front of her expectantly, waiting for what she wasn’t sure.

“Tou-san?” The girl called down the hallway, stepping back from the cat, “Tou-san, the woman who checked in last night is gone. She left all her stuff and, and there’s a cat in here!”

“What are you saying child? Huh.” The innkeeper appeared in the doorway and blinked before frowning deeply. “I didn’t discuss lodgings for a pet with her. Was she trying to shorthand me?”

Shinobu’s tail twitched at the insinuation.

“Well, looks like she’s long gone now. Nothing to do about it now.” The innkeeper sighed.

“But, her clothes are still here and her katana... I can’t imagine she left them there on purpose.”

“Well, we have her address in the book. We’ll have someone take her belongings there and get the money we’re owed for their safe return... and the money for any damages this animal may have caused,” he reached out to pet Shinobu, but understandably the Hashira turned cat batted the hand away. “I’ll get Daisuke on it, that boy’s been getting too comfortable anyway. Gather up all her belongings will you, Hibari.”

“Yes, father.”

The innkeeper nodded then continued on down the hall. Hibari cautiously made her way past the threshold of the room and Shinobu eyed her warily from the doorway as the young girl, probably around Aoi’s age, gathered her belongings and folded them all together with care before setting them into a travel bag. Shinobu was pleased that her privacy was kept largely intact. The only thing the young girl openly scrutinized was her nichirin blade.

“This is so cool.” Hibari mumbled to herself before laying the blade across the opening of the bag. She then turned to Shinobu, couching to the floor with the bag outstretched in front of her. “Here kitty kitty, want to go for a ride?”

Shinobu’s eyes narrowed, she didn’t much appreciate how the girl cooed at her like she was a child. She stayed in place, her nose upturned.

“Oh don’t be like that. I’m sure it’ll be a long journey home. I’d sit in the bag if I were you.”

Shinobu stood firm. If she had to have four legs, she was going to use them. Hibari sighed and stood with the bag over her shoulder.

“Alright, suit yourself,” Hibari made to exit the room, “come on, little kitty.”

Shinobu resented that, yet she pawed after the girl. They exited the inn and found a young man stretched out in the grass.

“Daisuke-nii, here are all the traveler’s belongings. Tou-san gave you the address, right?” Hibari asked.

Daisuke groaned and sat up with his hand outstretched to take the bag, “yeah,” he noticed Shinobu sitting near his sister’s feet and sneered, “do I really need to take that thing with me too?”

Shinobu’s tail swished, agitated.

“Don’t be mean. The poor thing is probably homesick,” Hibari pouted, “I can’t believe that lady would just leave her here.”

Homesick, yes, Shinobu had been off on missions for the better part of three weeks. She was finally meant to go home today but like this, as a cat of all things, was not how she wanted to do it. She just wanted to walk home like a normal person, hug all her girls and catch up with the goings on at the estate, and spend some much needed alone time with her (Y/n). Was that so much to ask for?

“Whatever, it’s just a cat Hibari.” Daisuke groused. “If it decides to run off before I get to the place, I’m not taking responsibility for it. I’m just gonna drop this off, and get our money.”

“You better take good care of this cat, Nii-chan!” Hibari frowned, crossing her arms, “I’ll never forgive you if something bad happens to her! Just look at how sweet she is.”

Daisuke looked into Shinobu’s eyes and found his distaste for the feline mirrored back at him.

“There is nothing sweet looking about that thing.” Daisuke grunted as he stood to his full height, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Just try to be nice, okay?” Hibari asked.

“Sure, yeah, yeah, come on vermin. The sooner we leave, the sooner I can get home.” Daisuke made to scoop up Shinobu, but she side stepped away, slapping his hand for good measure.

“Ow! You mangy little—“

“Daisuke!” Hibari warned, giving him a pointed look.

“Fine! Just don’t slow me down. I’m leaving.” Daisuke rubbed his hand and turned to start his journey. A journey Shinobu had no intention of sticking around for.

Shinobu was surely faster than the ornery young man. She was not particularly fond of his presence either. She decided she would go off ahead of him. If he tried to do anything funny with her belongings she would easily find them again and give them all hell. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could figure out how to revert to her true body.

“Ah. Good riddance.” She heard Daisuke say snidely as she hopped ahead and into the brush once they made it to the edge of town.

‘I could say the same about you.’ Shinobu thought to herself, ‘if anything happens to that haori especially, the problems you have now will be child’s play to what I’ll put you through.’

Though she traveled faster, leaving the innkeeper’s son behind her, Shinobu still had plenty of ground to cover. She was already tired from weeks of duty, not to mention she wasn’t used to traveling on four paws. However despite these difficulties, Shinobu managed to reach her estate’s beautiful gardens  just before dinner. Her little paws ached, but she was home.

She walked through the garden, admiring the blooms and foliage as she steadily made her way to the engawa. The weather was fair, so hopefully she’d find an open door somewhere.

Then the flowers ahead of her started to shake and she stiffened momentarily before relaxing as the voices of Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho registered in her ears.

“And then— oh! A kitty!” Kiyo interrupted herself, awestruck as she and the other two girls made their way to the end of the garden where the vegetables were grown. Sumi and Naho were quick to join in, cooing at Shinobu causing her light embarrassment.

“How did you get here, little one? Are you lost?” Naho smiled, presenting her hand for Shinobu to sniff. Obviously, Shinobu didn’t go for it.

“Mow.” Shinobu shook her head, trying to show the girls she was no ordinary cat. They didn’t seem to catch on unfortunately.

“It’s so cute! Do you think we could keep it?” Sumi asked.

“Shinobu-sama would never let us. She thinks furry animals are messy.” Naho replied dejectedly.

“You’re right.” Sumi pouted.

“Well...” Kiyo spoke up after a moment of silence. “Shinobu-sama isn’t back yet. What if we could get (Y/n)-sama to agree to let us keep it?”

“Good idea!” Sumi jumped a bit with excitement, “Even if Shinobu-sama doesn’t like the idea, she’ll accept it if (Y/n)-sama said it was okay.”

‘My my, Kiyo, Sumi. I did not think you would try using my own lover against me in such a way.’ Shinobu thought to herself, begrudgingly allowing herself to be picked up by Sumi as the other two gathered at her sides, gently stroking her fur.

“I don’t know, aren’t you two worried it might strain their relationship if they don’t make the decision together?”  Naho asked nervously, though she eagerly patted the top of Shinobu’s head.

“No way. They love each other too much to let one cat get in the way of all that.” Kiyo shook her head, “Besides, we’ll take care of it. Shinobu-sama won’t even have to see the kitten if she doesn’t want to.”

‘My, what schemers these girls are growing into.’

“Girls? Is everything going alright out there?”

Shinobu’s ears perked up and she wiggled in Sumi’s arms to peer over her shoulder, absorbing the sight of (Y/n) standing on the engawa with her hand acting as a visor to shield her eyes from the setting sun as she squinted at the garden. Shinobu thought it was a crime that she couldn’t perceive colors as she could when she was human. She was sure the light of the setting sun bathed (Y/n)’s figure in a heavenly way. Oh how she had missed her.

“(Y/n)-sama!” The three girls cheered rushing towards the young woman standing on the engawa. Shinobu winced at the jaunty gait, the pace Sumi had set was throwing her around more than she would have liked.

“Oh dear,” (Y/n) smiled warmly, turning Shinobu’s heart into mush, “that doesn’t look like a vegetable.”

“(Y/n)-sama, can we keep her? Can we keep her please?” The girls pleaded. “We promise we’ll take good care of her. It will be like she’s not even here. Just give us a chance!”

“I have no doubt you three could take good care of a cat. You’re all very responsible, but you know Shinobu wouldn’t be happy living with a sheddy cat under her roof.” (Y/n) said, her smile becoming more sympathetic as she stared down at the youngest residents of the Butterfly Estate.

“Please, (Y/n)-sama. Shinobu-sama doesn’t even have to know. It can be our secret.” Sumi whispered conspiratorially.

“I’m sorry girls, but I’m just not comfortable making such a big decision without consulting with Shinobu first.” (Y/n) shook her head.

Upon seeing the dejected looks of the three girls before her, (Y/n) sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “You can come in and fix something for her to eat, but she can’t come inside, okay?”

“Okay...”

Shinobu would have been very pleased with (Y/n)’s decision, except she needed to be the exception to the verdict. She needed to get inside and get to her lab, not live out the rest of her days as a garden cat getting fed scraps while she watched all her loved ones mourn her sudden disappearance.

“Don’t forget to pull out some fresh veggies. Aoi and Kanao are waiting too—ah!”

Shinobu had wiggled free from Sumi’s arms and flung herself into the air, catching on the fabric of (Y/n)’s clothes and scrambling up to her chest as surprised arms moved on instinct to hold Shinobu up.

‘I could charm you as a human, I can do it in this form too, (Y/n).’

Shinobu butted her head against (Y/n)’s chin, her cheeks, wherever she could reach. She felt a rumble start to build at the back of her throat and realized she had begun to purr. (Y/n)’s scent seemed to be all encompassing, so much stronger than what Shinobu’s human nose could smell. It made her press harder, realizing just how much she had missed that scent, how she craved the familiarity.

“Oh, hello there. You sure are friendly, huh?” (Y/n) scratched behind Shinobu’s ear, Shinobu purred louder.

“Aw, she must really like you, (Y/n)-sama. You have to let her stay now!” Naho spoke, watching the cute scene with unrestrained joy.

“Naho, you know we can’t.” (Y/n) shook her head, now trying to dodge Shinobu’s bumps of affection while also trying to loosen Shinobu’s claws from her front so she could put her back down.

‘Come now, (Y/n). Don’t start playing hard to get now.’ Shinobu continued working her charm as best as she could, continuing her nudges and purrs, gently lapping (Y/n)’s knuckles with her tongue when her hands attempted to push her away.

“Affectionate little thing, aren’t you?” (Y/n)’s smile twitched, a bead of sweat roll down her cheek as she tried to pull the cat away from her body only to have her clothes pulled with her, the cat’s claws were secured and unyielding.

‘Only for you.’ Shinobu’s eyes glinted. She could see (Y/n) was wavering, if she could keep this up, she’d let her stay in no time.

(Y/n) looked down into the cat’s eyes. They felt strangely familiar. The way the cat stared back up at her made her feel small, not in a negative sense, more like they eyes reminded her of the vastness of the universe. Maybe they made her feel safe, unconditionally loved... (Y/n) shook her head, blood buzzed faintly through her cheeks and the tips of her ears. This was a cat. She really needed to pull herself together. She hoped Shinobu’s letter detailing her imminent return home was accurate.

“Mew, mow.” Shinobu mewed sweetly, the sound, paired with the sweet kitten licks penetrated deep into (Y/n)’s heart, making her sigh and slump her shoulders in defeat.

“Okay...”

“Yay!” The trio cheered, bouncing around (Y/n) as she held onto a pleased Shinobu with a guilty expression on her face.

“But!” She added quickly, “I’m not promising anything. When Shinobu comes back we’ll come to a final decision together. Don’t get your hopes up too high, alright?”

“Okay, (Y/n)-sama.” The girls were a little more subdued, but no less excited that the cat could stay with them, if just for a short time.

As soon as (Y/n) crossed the threshold into the estate, Shinobu loosened her kitty death grip and jumped out of (Y/n)’s arms to pad off to the kitchen. Though she was yelling at herself to go to the lab to try to fix herself first, hunger seemed to be driving her body in the direction of the aroma coming from the opposite side of the building.

“Look at you. You walk around as if you own the place.” (Y/n) spoke, a sound of amusement preceding her observation.

‘Because I do. Hopefully you’ll realize that soon enough.’

“What took so long, (Y/n)-sama?” Aoi asked, a small frown of concentration shaped her lips as she carefully prepared the food. Kanao turned to stare at (Y/n) and the sleek little shadow trailing behind her with a puzzled expression.

“Sorry. Um, Sumi, Naho and Kiyo had made a new friend in the garden who’ll be staying the night.”

“I see, shall I start preparing a room?” Aoi asked, not yet looking up from her cooking.

“I don’t think that will be necessary...”

“What do you mean, oh.” Aoi caught a dark movement at (Y/n)’s feet, the seeing the cat for the first time. Although she found it undoubtedly cute, her respect for Shinobu was not so easily swayed. “(Y/n)-sama, you can’t keep a cat in here!”

“I know,” (Y/n) pressed her hands together, “it’s only for a short while, I promise.”

“I can’t believe you let yourself get manipulated so easily. What would Shinobu-sama say?”

‘That (Y/n) trying to resist me would be like someone trying to stop an oncoming train with their bare hands. It’s just not plausible.’ Shinobu silently answered with a purr, sliding past (Y/n)’s ankles.

“I know, I tried, honestly! I really did.” (Y/n) swore.

“Fine. Remove it from the kitchen please at the very least. It’s unsanitary.” Aoi said, turning back to what she was doing.

“Right, sorry. The girls should be back from the garden soon. I’ll be back in a minute to help.”

(Y/n) scooped up Shinobu and took her out of the kitchen just as Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho were coming in with their basket from the garden.

“Great timing. Could you three take care of the cat while I help Kanao and Aoi finish up dinner?”

“Yeah!”

“You can count on us!”

“Here little kitty!”

Shinobu tried to latch onto (Y/n), but was quickly plucked from her arms by Kiyo. After Naho handed (Y/n) the basket, they ran off down the hall with (Y/n) calling after them.

“Be back in twenty minutes! Everything should be done by then.”

“Okay!”

***

Shinobu sat on the tatami floor, watching with amusement as the girls tried to get her to play with the crudely tied together cloth on a wooden pole. They even went as far as to demonstrate what they expected her to do with the device, pawing at it and rolling around on the floor.

“Come on, kitty. You can do it!” Sumi encouraged.

‘I love you children, but there is nothing you could say or do that would make me act so foolishly.’ Shinobu turned her nose away from the flopping cloth and made to leave the room, hoping (Y/n) and the others would have dinner ready by now.

Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho followed after her talking amongst themselves. Occasionally asking the black cat where she was going with such purpose.

When they made it to the dining area, (Y/n), Kanao and Aoi were already there. (Y/n) had only just knelt down at her spot at the table when Shinobu claimed the space in her lap, causing (Y/n) to jump in surprise at the sudden dark flash that rushed at her.

“Ah!”

“Wow, she must really, really like you, (Y/n)-sama.” Naho observed.

“Yeah, we just followed her here. It’s like she knew exactly where to go.” Sumi spoke with awe.

“I see...” (Y/n) smiled down at the black blob curled in her lap, it’s intelligent purple eyes looked back up at her. “I bet you’re hungry, hm?”

‘Yes, I haven’t eaten all day.’ Shinobu sighed to herself.

“(Y/n)-sama, we shouldn’t feed animals at the table.” Aoi pouted. “What would Shinobu-sama say?”

‘I’d say let’s make an exception just this once. Please, I’m starving.’

“Just this once, Aoi, please,” (Y/n) asked, setting up a little bowl of cat safe food before setting the bowl beside her on the floor. “More likely than not the cat will have to go when Shinobu comes back. Try not to let it bother you too much.”

Shinobu wiggled out of (Y/n)’s lap to the bowl of food next to her whilst Aoi released a resigned sigh, and waited for everyone to get situated.

“Ikatakimasu!”

“Meow.”

Everyone blinked and turned to the cat. Shinobu stared back, unblinking, waiting for someone to realize she was no ordinary cat.

Kanao tilted her head, flipped her coin, and shrugged slightly before turning back to her food. Aoi was mildly impressed but made no comment. She thought perhaps it had just been a coincidence that the feline happened to meow as they thanked each other for the work that had gone into making dinner tonight. The youngest girls made sure to voice their amazement, praising Shinobu for being such a smart kitty. (Y/n) let out a surprised giggle, calling the moment unbelievably cute before returning her attention to her food as well.

If Shinobu could adequately roll her eyes, she would. Instead she sucked it up and ate the food in the bowl (Y/n) had provided for her. She felt silly and unrefined eating in such a manner, face first in the ceramic, but the food was good and filling, making her feel much better.

After dinner was finished and everything was cleaned up, Shinobu ignored the younger girls’ pleads to come back to their rooms and trotted behind (Y/n) to their wing of the estate.

“You’re making me out to be some kind of villain, cat,” (Y/n) spoke to Shinobu as she waved sympathetically to the younger girls pouting at the opposite end of the hall, “Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho would really like to spend more time with you.”

‘As would I, but I need to be in the lab tonight if I’m ever going to figure out how to reverse this.’

As they approached Shinobu’s lab, she was pleased, but also annoyed to find that the door was already partially open. Making a mental note to find out who had been rustling around in her sanctuary, she made to enter the room only for the door to be slid shut in front of her.

“Sorry little kitty,” (Y/n) smiled down at Shinobu, “Shinobu would be less than pleased with me for not only letting a cat into the estate, but for also letting it have free reign of her lab. Can’t have you breaking any vials or toppling plants.”

“Mowww.” Shinobu moaned pitifully, pawing at the door. She looked up at (Y/n) with hope that she’d let her in. ‘You don’t understand, (Y/n). It’s me!’

“Aw, sorry buddy. That room is off limits.” (Y/n) then continued to walk around the corner.

Shinobu looked between her lab door and the corner (Y/n) disappeared behind a few times, her tail twitched in agitation.

‘Alright, no work is getting done tonight. I suppose it will feel nice to sleep in a familiar location with the warmth and comfort I’ve missed so dearly, even if she is actively blocking my progress with her good intentions.’ Shinobu quickly followed (Y/n) to their room and made to enter the space but was blocked by (Y/n)’s foot.

“No no, see? This is why you should have followed the other girls. I share this space with Shinobu, I can’t let you get fur all over the place and gods forbid anything happen to the goldfish. You’re a smart kitty, I’m sure you can figure out where to go.”

“Mowww, mew!”

“Goodnight, little kitty.” (Y/n) slid the door shut and Shinobu slumped against the floor, pathetically pawing at the edge of the door.

‘Why must you be so responsible and considerate?’ Shinobu meowed again, ‘I would kill to cuddle you right now. I would sit in a room full of writhing balls of sentient fuzz just for my welcome home kiss.’

Shinobu did not move from her spot, continuously clawing at the door, trying to hook a claw in the crack to nudge it open. Her persistence paid off and she managed to wiggle through the small opening she created and slip into the darkened room.

Shinobu was a bit embarrassed, had she tried to get into her lab as hard as she tried to get into her own bedroom, she might actually have gotten somewhere with an antidote. But now she was tired, and all she wanted to do was lay in that perfect space she saw between the curl of (Y/n)’s arm and her face.

‘It looks like I’m not the only one who misses someone.’ Shinobu simpered inwardly, noticing how (Y/n) was sleeping on the side of the futon that Shinobu usually slept in. Shinobu purred, walking across (Y/n)’s side and eliciting a sleepy laugh from the girl without waking her. She slid into the space she had staked claim of and curled up, rubbing her face against (Y/n)’s cheek. She couldn’t help but purr louder as (Y/n) unconsciously pulled Shinobu closer and buried her face in her furry side.

“Shinobu... be safe.” (Y/n) mumbled before stilling once more.

‘I’m safe, I’m right here with you. I hope you realize it soon.’

***

The next morning Shinobu woke earlier than (Y/n). She didn’t want to make (Y/n) worry about the cat somehow getting into the room so she gave her a few quick kitten licks before slipping out of the room. If she had to be a cat for an indeterminate amount of time, she didn’t want (Y/n) trying to find a better way to keep her out of their room.

She trotted around the corner to begin working her lab door open again but was quickly thwarted by Kanao who had happened to be walking by. The quiet girl had picked her up by the pits of Shinobu’s front legs and held her out in front of her with her head tilted to the side as if searching for something.

‘Yes, Kanao. You can tell can’t you? You can tell that I’m your sister and not some common stray.’

“Cute.”

‘Kanao!’

The young Tsuguko put Shinobu in a more comfortable hold and continued to walk away from the lab until she happened upon Nezuko and Tanjirou. The Kamado siblings coddled Shinobu. Nezuko was particularly entranced and hummed happily as she patted Shinobu’s soft head. The Hashira was rather tired of all the touching, but with the firm hold Kanao had on her small body, escape was not an option. At least Inosuke and Zenitsu were out on missions. She didn’t think she’d be able to handle them in this state.

Within the next hour, the rest of the butterfly girls joined in and they moved the little get together outside. Even Aoi gave a tentative scratch behind Shinobu’s ear as they all enjoyed the warmth of the day under the shade of the engawa. That is, until they heard (Y/n) speaking to someone near the estate entrance sounding very distressed. Kanao and Tanjirou went to investigate while the others stayed behind.

Shinobu had been passed off to Aoi, but she wriggled out of her arms to sprint in (Y/n)’s direction to give whoever was making her so upset a taste of her claws. She slowed to stand just behind (Y/n) when she realized that the person she was talking to was the boy from the inn with her belongings.

‘Took him long enough.’ Shinobu thought.

“What do you mean you don’t know where she went? You just saw all her belongings sitting there and thought it was perfectly normal for someone to disappear without warning?” (Y/n) spoke, yelling more out of worry than anger as she pressed the bag to her chest.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger okay?” Daisuke asked, a lazy smile on his face. His eyes wandered over (Y/n)’s figure in a way that made Shinobu furious. “People come and go all the time. Though I gotta say, it’s a real shame she left you hanging. I would never keep a pretty girl like you waiting.”

“Shinobu isn’t like that!” (Y/n) shot back, her eyebrows knit and jaw set. “Did you not even think about contacting the local authorities, anything?”

“Listen, sweetheart,” Daisuke took a couple steps forward, looming over (Y/n), “Unfortunately, it’s my dad who calls the shots and he sent me here to return these belongings and retrieve a lump sum of yen for the service. Now, on the subject of payment... I wouldn’t mind turning a blind eye for a night on the town. What do you say?” He reached out, presumably to tilt (Y/n)’s chin up, but his hand quickly dropped and he shouted in pain. He and (Y/n) looked down at their feet to witness Shinobu biting the ever loving shit out of Daisuke’s ankle.

Daisuke hopped around from one foot to the other, trying to dislodge the cat from his feet. It was like Shinobu was a liquid shadow of teeth and sharp little claws like knives. When Daisuke reached for her, she scrambled to the other leg to give it the same treatment.

(Y/n), now fully joined by Kanao and Tanjirou, watched in stunned silence as the small terror weaved through the young man’s legs.

“Sh... should we stop it?” Tanjirou asked hesitantly.

Kanao shrugged and (Y/n) let out an exasperated sigh.

“Little kitty, please stop!” (Y/n) asked half heartedly, it was a cat after all. It’s not like it would stop just because she— oh, it stopped.

Shinobu batted the man one last time with her claws before sitting before (Y/n). The little shimmy of her hind legs and tail were enough of a sign for (Y/n) too quickly pass the bag off to Kanao so she could catch nightmarish feline who now seemed as docile as a lamb, purring up a storm and lapping at (Y/n)’s jaw.

“What the hell?!” Daisuke hissed, applying pressure to a particularly nasty scratch on the back of his ankle.

“Sorry, I’ll have someone patch you up right away.” (Y/n) said, adjusting her hold on Shinobu so her sandpaper kisses wouldn’t rub the delicate skin of her face raw, “Tanjirou, could you find a kakushi for me? Tell them to bring water, bandages, and disinfectant. Kanao, take Shinobu’s belongings to our room, then come straight back. We need to figure out what happened and where she could be.”

“Meow.”

‘I’m here, (Y/n). Please don’t look so worried.’

“Wait a minute,” Daisuke had moved to sit fully on the ground to hold his cuts and shredded pants. He squinted up at the cat in (Y/n)’s arms, “I know that scrawny little— I thought you would have gotten eaten by a hawk by now you mangy pain in the ass!”

“You know this cat?” (Y/n) asked.

“Yeah, it’s yours, isn’t it?” Daisuke spat. “Your little lady friend left it at the inn with the rest of her shit.”

“That can’t possibly be true, Shinobu dislikes furry animals. She wouldn’t travel with a cat.” (Y/n) shook her head, not even allowing the notion Daisuke brought forward to fully process in her mind because of how ridiculous it sounded.

“My lady, you called for assistance?” The kakushi called as they made their approach, Tanjirou still following.

“Yes, please see to this man’s injuries,” (Y/n) balanced Shinobu over her shoulder so she could take out her money pouch. She counted out the yen, adding a bit extra for the physical damages and presented it to the innkeeper’s son, “After they have taken care of you, please leave the premises immediately.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Daisuke growled, roughly snatching the money out of (Y/n)’s hand. Shinobu glared at him, an unhappy noise gurgled at the back of her throat that made the young man flinch and cower.

Once (Y/n) was sure the kakushi had everything under control, she headed back to the engawa with Tanjirou just as Kanao re-emerged. The other girls who had been sitting and watching from a far questioned (Y/n) with worried expressions.

“Is it true? Is Shinobu-sama missing, (Y/n)-sama?” Kiyo asked.

“Yes,” (Y/n)’s voice wavered, yet she kept a brave face, “we need to prepare a search party immediately.”

“Nezuko and I will help in any way we can. I have a good grasp on Shinobu-san’s scent. I’ll find out if Inosuke and Zenitsu are close enough to help too.” Tanjirou offered, ever helpful. Nezuko hummed in agreement with her brother.

‘What, I don’t even smell the same like this?’ Shinobu signed.

“Just leave it to us.” Kanao spoke up, she patted (Y/n)’s arm, trying to comfort the older girl.

“Just be careful.” (Y/n) replied, cradling Shinobu in one arm so she could give Kanao a hug with the other. “If you need any extra assistance, supplies... we’re just a crow away.”

“We will find her.” Kanao spoke softly but no less seriously, giving (Y/n) a slight nod of determination.

Tanjirou loaded Nezuko into her box and Kanao prepared some supplies and they headed out, leaving the rest of the girls to finish chores and tend to the infirmary. Worry over what fate had befallen Shinobu hung heavily in the air. If only they knew that she was right there at their feet.

The rest of the day was eerily quiet. (Y/n) did her best to keep everyone’s spirits up. When night fell, all the girls held in a little tighter when they came to give (Y/n) a hug good night. Even Aoi, who often wouldn’t participate in the little bedtime ritual, came looking for a bit of comfort before heading to bed.

Shinobu had tried all afternoon to give some sign that she was the silky black cat, but to no avail. At bedtime she was much more desperate to get into her lab. She tried to work the door open, but found in was much more sturdy, heavy, than the door to her bedroom.

Just as Shinobu was starting to give up, she heard muffled sniffling coming from around the corner and her heart twinged. She quickly turned the corner and began working the corner of the bedroom door, her sharp ears caught every devastating sound (Y/n) made.

“Oh Shinobu, where are you?”

‘I’m here! Please don’t cry!’

Another pull of her claw edged the door open just enough for Shinobu to slip inside. The scene before her broke her heart.

(Y/n) was curled up on Shinobu’s side of the futon, now with Shinobu’s haori draped over her as she tried to keep her tears and shuddering, hitched breathing to herself.

Shinobu wasted no time hopping into the bed. She butted her head against (Y/n)’s hands, willing her to remove them from her face. (Y/n) startled, taking in a particularly loud breath of air before sliding her hands down her face to look at her intruder. Her eyes closed momentarily when Shinobu bumped heads with her again, bopping her forehead and the bridge of her nose.

“H-how did you get in here, huh?” (Y/n) sat up, rubbing the tears from her eyes. She tried to regain even breaths but it wasn’t coming easily.

“Mrroowww.” Shinobu whined, trying to form sounds that her vocal chords could not create. She circled around the arm (Y/n) was using to prop herself up, wishing she could just hold her and tell her everything was alright.

“I just love her so much. If only I was a demon slayer too, then I could—“ (Y/n)’s back racked as more tears squeezed passed her eyelids. “I’m so weak— ah!”

Shinobu bit (Y/n)’s wrist, not hard, but with enough pressure to stop her lover from continuing her spiral. She soothed the small indents she left in (Y/n)’s skin with a few rough licks, looking up at her with pained, purple irises.

(Y/n) didn’t kick Shinobu out of the room and the Hashira did her best to soothe her. Eventually (Y/n) laid back down and fell into a restless sleep, her tear stained face shone in the moonlight that cascaded through the window. As she slept, Shinobu’s mind raced for a solution to this puzzle. She absolutely refused to allow this to carry on through another night.

Shinobu sat protectively curled around (Y/n)’s head. Her ears twitched with every little sniffle and shaky sigh that came from the unconscious girl. Shinobu scanned the room as she pressed her mind. How could she get their attention?

Her eyes wandered over to the desk near the door. (Y/n) had insisted it be put there after Shinobu had spent consecutive nights in her office or her lab writing reports or doing research. She had told Shinobu if she wanted to read and write all night, she could do it in their bedroom so (Y/n) at least had the illusion that Shinobu would come to bed when she was finished.

Ah, Shinobu had teased her about that for days afterward. It turned out to be a great idea though in Shinobu’s book. Whenever she got frustrated with her materials she would simply turn to watch the object of her affections sleep for a moment and a peaceful smile would claim her lips. Then she’d get back to her correspondences or research notes until her hands hurt and her fingers were smudged with ink. She recalled one all nighter in particular when she had flopped into bed around dawn and was awoken three hours later to (Y/n) scolding her for getting ink all over her.

Ink...

Shinobu’s eyes flickered across the desk, settling on the ink bottle tucked neatly in the corner. Yes, why hadn’t she thought of this before? Careful not to jostle (Y/n), Shinobu padded passed her little goldfish aquarium and leapt onto her desk, rustling a few papers but largely without incident.

Shinobu sighed inwardly at what she would have to do next. She walked up to the ink bottle and batted it to the floor, it’s contents spilling and staining the matted floor below.

‘I’ll need to replace this floor when I’m done here, won’t I?’

***

When (Y/n) woke up early the next morning, it was to a wet, slimy pressure on her cheek. She had initially tried to bat it away, but the force came back down on her lips and she turned away and spluttered, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

She looked down, her mouth fell open with surprise as she processed the black, sticky smudge that stuck to her skin.

“Meow.”

(Y/n) turned back around and gasped. Initially, you wouldn’t have been able to tell anything was out of place, but on closer inspection (Y/n) saw how the black cat’s fur appeared matted and wet on its front legs and if that wasn’t enough, the little black paw prints that littered the white sheets was certainly a give away.

“Oh my... bad kitty! Very, very, very bad kitty!” (Y/n) huffed, trying to roll out of the bedding without getting too much ink on herself.

Shinobu smirked inwardly, if she could laugh she would have. Despite the situation that led up to this moment, it was amusing to hear (Y/n) try to scold her. It was not at all her forte it would seem.

“Such a bad kitty! I’m going to punish you for this... ah! How do you even punish a cat?” (Y/n) fumed, taking in the extent of the damage.

Satisfied that (Y/n) was up, Shinobu made her way back to the desk, little black paw prints followed in her wake.

“That’s quite enough! I’d like to not have to replace the whole floor if I can help it, you little...” (Y/n) followed after Shinobu and scooped her up, she happened to glance at the floor near the base of the desk and the words died on her tongue. At first, she thought it was just the scene of the crime where all went wrong, but after a second glance, she noticed swoops and slashes that looked suspiciously like hiragana characters. (Y/n)’s lips fell open as she finally took the whole scene in.

‘Demon blood cat poison. I’m Shinobu.’ Was painstakingly written on the floor.

“Shinobu...?” (Y/n) stared down at the cat in her arms with manic eyes scanning over every inch of the small cat.

Shinobu blinked slowly and nodded.

“Shinobu!” (Y/n) cried, holding the cat closer to herself, uncaring of the inky paws that pressed into her yukata. “I was so worried! I’m glad you’re alright!”

“Mow.”

“You need to get in the lab, don’t you? I’ll get you whatever you need, dear.” (Y/n) carried Shinobu to the lab and slid the door open. Closing the door behind her, she set Shinobu down on a clear table and nervously wrung her hands. “Okay, what do you need?”

Shinobu took a moment to ponder. Really it couldn’t be much different than the antidote she created for the slayers who had been turned to spiders on Natagumo Mountain. She walked to the edge of the table and pointed a paw in the direction of one of her medicine cabinets and (Y/n) opened it, pointing at every vial until Shinobu nodded at the one she wanted. After an hour more of awkward directing, they had a few new solutions to try. (Y/n) prepared the first syringe and looked at Shinobu with concern.

“Are you sure about this?” (Y/n) asked.

Shinobu held out her front paw in reply.

There was no immediate change, but after a few minutes, the small cat began to grow and bubble. The fur melted away and before long what remained on the table now was a naked young woman with severe bed head covered in sticky, partially dried ink.

Shinobu fell forward, exhausted by the change, but (Y/n) caught her and straightened her back into an upright position and hugged her tightly.

“Shinobu!” (Y/n) cheered, she couldn’t help the tears that came to her eyes and she sobbed into Shinobu’s neck.

Shinobu smiled tiredly, her voice sounded like it would when she woke up first thing in the morning as she chuckled and pulled (Y/n) closer to herself, “I’m sorry I worried you. I’m okay. Please don’t cry, you know I hate it when you do.”

“I’m trying,” (Y/n) hiccuped, “I just missed you so much!”

“I missed you too.” Shinobu said, kissing the top of (Y/n)’s head.

They stayed there in each other’s arms for a few minutes quietly swaying before (Y/n) pulled back a bit, remembering how everyone was worried sick and needed to know that Shinobu was alright.

“I’ve got to send word to Kanao and the others that you’re okay! We have to tell everyone! Oh, but you should put on some clothes first.” (Y/n) added sheepishly, seemingly only just noticing Shinobu’s current state of undress. Shinobu giggled.

“I’d prefer to wash off this ink before putting anything on. Wouldn’t want to ruin anything.”

“You certainly did enough of that.” (Y/n) laughed, recalling the mess Shinobu made of the floor and their sheets. “But the bath is much too far to try to get by undetected. We’d have much better luck running around the corner to our room.”

“Mm, I suppose you have a point.” Shinobu slid off the table and stood on slightly wobbly legs, cupping (Y/n)’s face with her stained hands. “But before we go, can I have my welcome home kiss? I’ve been dying to receive it.”

(Y/n) smiled, interlacing her hands behind Shinobu’s neck and pulled her in. The first couple seconds were great, but when the kiss got more involved, both girls broke apart with small grimaces. The taste of ink on their tongues was not at all pleasant.

(Y/n) peeked around the corner and down the hall and after a moment she nodded at Shinobu, signaling her forward. They slipped out of the lab and quickly shot into their bedroom. As Shinobu got dressed, (Y/n) prepared a crow to deliver the good news to Kanao that she and the others could return home. Then the couple left their room to visit the younger girls.

“You don’t think the girls will be too disappointed to realize they don’t have a cat anymore, do you?” Shinobu asked.

“To have you back? They’ll be ecstatic.” (Y/n) grinned, bumping sides with Shinobu.

And true to (Y/n)’s word, upon seeing Shinobu, Aoi, Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho jumped at her and smothered her with hugs and relieved tears. After they had calmed down and learned the story, the youngest three started to giggle.

“(Y/n)-sama, you have a paw print on your cheek.” Sumi pointed out, gleefully.

“And your mouth has ink smeared over it too, like Shinobu-sama.” Naho added.

“How did that happen?” Kiyo wondered.

“I’ll give you three guesses.” Aoi rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as (Y/n) and Shinobu laughed.

After they caught up with the girls, (Y/n) and Shinobu veered off to the bath, washing off the ink as best they could from their bodies.

Just before nightfall, the search party returned with the added bonus of Inosuke and Zenitsu being as rambunctious as ever.

“I can’t believe you got turned into a cat! Dumb Shinobu! The Great Inosuke would never!” Inosuke cackled, abruptly stopping only when a dark aura swirled around Shinobu, a plastic smile on her lips daring Inosuke to continue.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Kanao spoke quietly, allowing herself to relax as Shinobu pulled her in for a tender hug.

After such an emotionally exhausting day, everyone returned to their rooms prepared for a much better night’s sleep than the last.

“No paperwork tonight?” (Y/n) teased as Shinobu practically dove I to the fresh bedding with a tired moan.

“Come here so I can cuddle you properly tonight.” Shinobu said, motioning (Y/n) over.

“Gladly.”

When (Y/n) was settled in Shinobu’s arms both girls blinked at each other as the sound of purrs permeated the air. Shinobu touched her throat, feeling the flesh rumble below her fingers.

“Lingering side effect?” (Y/n) tilted her head.

“I suppose... hopefully this doesn’t persist for long.”

“I think it’s cute.” (Y/n) smiled, kissing Shinobu’s cheek.

Before long the couple fell asleep to the quiet rumblings that resonated from Shinobu’s throat, happily tangled in each other’s limbs at last.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Masquerade

Part 2 of Cozy’s Fluff-To-Angst Fun and Games

@loki-hargreeves said

Here's a fluffy-ish prompt for you,

Dancing together (anything between ballroom dancing or just dancing in the living room at 2am together) 💚

Summary: It didn’t have to be bad, Loki told himself. His parents were married through such an arrangement, and they were happy together. 

He would be happy too.

Word Count: 1,659

Pairing: Loki x OFC

A/N: I feel like if you’ve read any of my other stuff, you’ll know how my favorite trope is childhood friends to lovers. I thought I’d try a twist on that formula. Not sure if it worked, but here you go!

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: None? I think? It’s just Loki being lonely

Tags:  @lucywrites02 @silver-lupines @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname @electroma89 @lokislittlesigyn @moumouton4 @theredrenard @justdontmindmetm

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

Loki had always loved dancing.

Alfheim balls were a little different from the ones he had grown up attending on Asgard, but the dancing was similar enough. It was a comfort, little scraps of familiarity floating in a frozen sea. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be swept up in the rhythm.

Rowan was radiant, as always. She laughed as she spun in his arms, the skirt of her dress flaring around her legs in a sparkling golden blur, and when he pulled her closer he found himself laughing too. It was impossible to resist—her smile was infectious.

His wife was a brilliant actress.

Loki hadn’t known what to expect from the arranged marriage laid before him. He had been granted only a month to attempt to straighten his thoughts before being sent away to Alfheim to meet his bride. It didn’t have to be bad, he told himself. His parents were married through such an arrangement, and they were happy together. Happy enough at least. He would be happy too.

And … he could almost feel happy here. Dancing. Drowning in the music. Letting the cacophony of the ballroom wash over him. The two of them swooped across the floor, so smooth they might have been flying, all eyes on them. It almost felt like the life he had always expected to lead.

It almost felt real.

Loki felt lightheaded. Before his wedding, he had never cared for Elven wine, but now he had been finding himself warming up to the drink a little more with each banquet. It made everything seem distant. He liked that.

Rowan twirled again. Her gown was silky green, swathed in gold—his colors, of course. She had been wearing something similar when he first arrived. Really, between the dress and her dark curls, she could have been mistaken for Loki’s sister. It was something Thor had been quick to point out, smacking his shoulder with a boisterous laugh as soon as they stepped off the Bifrost.

Loki missed that laugh. Everything here seemed too quiet. The highlight of his wedding feast had been watching his brother drunkenly frolic his way through the night, challenging men he didn’t know to duels over women he had just met, spilling wine all over himself when a pretty girl brushed up too close to him. His mother had been mortified, but Loki found it endlessly entertaining.

He had nearly cried the next morning, when he came down to bid his family farewell. He hid it, of course. It wouldn’t do to have a son of Odin bawling like a baby over a goodbye. He even managed a weak laugh, when Thor clapped him on the back and congratulated him for surviving his wedding night, although he was curious as to what his brother would say had he known Loki spent it on a couch.

But he really felt it rising, that frozen knot of panic in his throat, when his mother gave him one last embrace. He wondered if she could hear the frantic, childish plea he left unsaid.

Please don’t leave me here.

But as powerful as his mother was, she couldn’t read his mind, and so leave him they did.

He didn’t blame Rowan. He couldn’t—this was no more her fault than it was his. In fact, he had tremendous respect for her. The speech she had given him that night, when they returned to the apartment they were to share as husband and wife, had been straightforward and concise—perhaps a little rehearsed, but not so much that her conviction was unclear.

Still, it had startled him.

“I’ll be your wife. When I’m crowned Queen, you’ll be my Crown Prince. You and your realm will have the power and control you so desperately desire. But you won’t have me. You’ll never have me. Understand?”

Loki nodded. What was he supposed to do? Of all the scenarios he had run through his mind, over and over again until he could barely focus on anything else, he had never prepared for such an abrupt dismissal. When she disappeared into the bedroom, slamming the door with a swish of her emerald gown, he could only stand there like the great gaping idiot he was.

She was swishing that gown now, as they circled the floor once more. She stretched her hand out to his, his hand grazing her waistline as they turned to the music. The crowd of nobles watching from the edges of the ballroom seemed to have drawn even tighter around them since he last looked. The muscles in Loki’s neck tensed, but he held his easy smile. He had learned to dance through these maskless masquerades, and he danced them quite well.

Rowan wasn’t bothered by all the eyes on her. She peered across the assembly, scanning the faces even as she fell back into his arms beaming. Loki didn’t even have to look up to know who she was searching for.

He had met him once. The Other Man. His name was Ari, and he worked in the royal stables. For banquets such as this, however, he was occasionally called in to aid the overworked staff. It was a station he had been born into, it seemed—his father had served as groom, his mother a kitchen maid. Ari had served alongside him as a stableboy in his youth. He and Princess Rowan had known each other since they were children.

Loki had met him when he discovered him lounging in the very rooms he shared with his wife. It was a rare occasion—usually Rowan was smart enough to keep her extramarital engagements outside of the palace—but it seemed that she had to step out for a moment and asked Ari to wait for her. They shared several minutes of stilted conversation. Loki tried to be polite, but the stablehand was clearly uninterested in friendship. They were both exceedingly relieved when Rowan returned to whisk her lover away. The foul-eyed smirk Ari shot at him as he left made Loki feel sick.

He thought about asking Rowan not to bring him back to their apartment. Surely that would be a fair request. If Thor had been in his position he would certainly have no qualms about making it. No, he’d demand that Rowan never do such a thing again.

But … Loki had never exactly been the demanding type. He didn’t want to be the demanding type. It was her life, her love, and he was the intruder from another planet butting in and turning it upside down. It didn’t bother him that she wanted to be with someone else. He wasn’t jealous. He didn’t want Rowan, not like that. He didn’t love her, and she certainly didn’t love him, and Loki was perfectly fine with that. He wanted her to be with Ari, if that was what brought her happiness. They both deserved to be happy.

But … he found himself thinking about them a lot. He had precious little else to do here, besides nod along in meetings where he had no real say and reread books that no longer offered him escape. Loki’s mind would drift off, and he’d wonder how they met, the princess and the stableboy. Maybe Rowan had been lonely as a child—after all, she had no siblings, and the Alfheim court held precious few her age. Maybe she had come to the stables to hide away from the weight of royalty. Loki had done that when he was little—hide in the stables, or the wine cellar, or anywhere safe and secluded where it felt like nobody was looking at him.

Maybe she had hidden in an empty stall, and Ari found her when he came into clean. He imagined Ari had been quite lonely too—there couldn’t be a lot of conversation to be had when one spends their days mucking after horses—and so when he came across the princess huddled in the corner, her silk skirt carefully tucked under her knees, he sat down next to her.

Loki imagined them talking, not about anything in particular, just bouncing from topic to topic the way children tend to do. Maybe Rowan brought up her favorite book. Maybe Ari showed her his favorite flower. It didn’t really matter. But Loki pictured them growing closer, meeting up in secret again and again, their endeavors growing wilder with their childish glee. He saw them sneaking away to the roof of the palace to watch the sunset and count the stars, laughing at the ant-like people scurrying by below as they snacked on stolen chocolates. He saw them creeping away to practice dancing in the moonlight, with nothing but the nightingale’s song to count their steps. He saw them slowly begin to look each other in a different light, nervous lips brushing against each other for the first time. He saw them hatch plans of escape—long, intricate schemes that called for stolen ships and falsified identities—before they came to their senses and realized such plans would never come to fruition. He saw himself enter their story and felt their loathing.

Loki wished he had that. That closeness, that bond. He wished he could talk to Rowan, really talk to her and trust her to listen. Not in a romantic sense, but as something else. Friends. Weren’t there stories like that, where the husband and wife in arranged marriages grew to have a friendship more powerful than anything romantic?

But somehow, Loki knew that to his wife, he’d only ever be the man trying to rip her from her beloved.

The music was reaching a close. Rowan pulled away in a graceful curtsey. Loki let her go with a bow. The crowd rippled with polite applause, devoted and empty as always. Loki kept his smile, blithe as can be.

His wife wasn’t the only brilliant actor in the room.

[paracosm-writing]

00 | "𝕤𝕒𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞"

𝖎𝖓 𝖛𝖆𝖎𝖓 | Reiner Braun

Link to multi-fic masterpost.

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Reader

Word Count - 1.5K

Song – Saw You In A Dream// The Japanese House

Synopsis: Reiner Braun sees a series of memories as a young boy and falls in love with the girl who stars in them. Upon discovering that this girl is you, an Eldian on an island of devils, Reiner vows to save you from the impending doom his memories foretell. But will his efforts be in vain?

TW: slight Yandere! Reiner, angst, Y/N death, toxic/abusive relationships, canon-divergent

A/N: This is so weird to put online after literally daydreaming/brainstorming this plot since last year. Feedback is welcomed and if you want to be added to a taglist just message me.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I just wanna know that in the end it was all worth it.

The pain, the agony, the death.

That at the end of it all we can say;

‘It was for the best.’

Do you know…

What I mean?”

You sat in the overgrown grass, sprouting up from green to yellow at the tips. Watching the sun dip low to kiss the earth. From orange to a deep pink that illuminated the faint stars in the afternoon sky. Patiently, eyes welling with tears, waiting for an answer.

Reiner started to speak, compelled to assure you, compelled to tell you;

It was worth every bit.

But he was swept away.

Your eyes shifted, the sun rose in the sky, the breeze rustled past the both of you, and several lifetimes seemed to pass too quickly for Reiner to decipher – stopping in the midst of labor to watch seagulls drifting in the morning sky, you squinting beneath the sun’s gaze.

“I wonder what it’s like,” you murmured. “To have wings like that. They have no idea how lucky they are.”

Reiner reached for you. To tell you something so heavy his heart weighed down his chest but thought against it.

Because in this very moment, you were blissfully unaware and freer than the birds you admired so wistfully.

He envied you. Like the poor envied the rich, with malice and adoration. Love and hate, but love won over and he swept you up in his arms, placed you on his shoulders and told you to fly. Your rambunctious laughter echoed for miles.

Never had he wanted to live in someone’s laugh, falling and falling into a bed full of wildflowers.

He flipped the pages of an old, ancient book, the brittle parchment hissing with every turn. Your index finger rested on a drawing of a flower that filled a whole page, dirt and bits of flower petals embedded under your fingernails. And you protested about there not being enough flowers, and pronounced ‘red dahlia’ all wrong, and he started to tell you something.

Something that weighed on his heart but he could not remember.

Only one thought he could recall; that if he said anything, he would surrender such a precious moment.

Instead, he basked in your smile as warm as the noonday sun as you rode horses out on an open field.

He was a yard ahead of you and your warm, frustrated smile twisted his insides like the sharp end of a bayonet. The pain made him yearn for something, excitement like he had never known searing through his entire body like a hot iron.

“It’s not fair, you’re so good at everything,” you whined but you were still smiling so fondly.

No one had ever smiled at him in such a way and he wanted to – owed it to you – to say something.

Yet before he could speak you lied underneath a night sky and wondered aloud, “If I need you, will you know? Will you always come and find me?” Voice so small, as if even the slightest reprimand would make you shrivel up and disappear.

He had the urge to tell you you could scream for him in your thoughts and he would still hear you.

He would fight like hell to get to you.

And he needed to tell you something.

But your eyes were on his for the last time. Glassy and afraid. Staring up at him as you breathed your last breath, cradled in his arms, the last pleas for your life on your lips. Blood soaked his clothes. Marred your face.

He had not come to get you, and it hadn’t been worth It in the end.

“Protect her,” someone screamed a strangled cry in the distance. “You just had to protect her-“

“I will protect her!” He shouted back, rage and grief pulsing through him. Lifting him up from his surroundings until all he could see was red. The color of your blood. Your tears. In the blood that seeped from his hand as he bit down hard--

And he awoke with a sob, sitting upright so quickly his head spun and black splotches filled his vision. His heart raced in his chest, and his breath ran from him. As if to find where you might lay, hollow and unmoving, and fill you up again.

He desperately tried to untangle himself from his covers, trying to get to you. To protect you so your eyes would always be alive with wonder and your smile would always be warm.

Reiner managed to get free and stumble on to the cold, wooden floor, heart galloping so loudly with fear that he heard it in his ears.

His mother, Karina, found him. Crawling in vain, tears streaming down his face, muttering to himself about a girl he’d saw in a dream.

“There, there, Reiner,” she had cooed, taking her son in her arms. “It was just a bad dream.”

“But-but,” Reiner managed, your dead, lifeless eyes engraved in his mind. “It was, like, I saw her. In a memory.”

Still, Karina ruffled his hair, holding him close. “When you become a warrior, you’ll never have to worry about someone getting hurt ever again. Your father will come back to us, and we’ll finally be a family. And no one will want to hurt us because they will finally understand we are good Eldian people,

You must protect us, Reiner.

From those island devils.

It’ll all be worth it in the end, you’ll see.”

When Reiner enrolled in the Warrior program, he thought of that dream. The one he’d had the night before enrollment and he imagined he was coming to you, the strange girl in the dream, to tell you he was a warrior.

Would that keep you smiling that warm smile that reached your eyes as if your whole body was alight? A smile not even his mother could muster from bearing the weight of his ancestors’ sins?

Would it keep you alive?

Then he felt embarrassed, ashamed even, that he was considering a silly dream.

And ran into the depths of his future.

➳

Meanwhile, across the sea, in a meadow field in Shigashina, you watched your mother close the storybook in her hands as she finished her last sentence.

“Thus, the knight defeated the dragon, rescued the princess, and they lived happily ever after. What a nice fairytale, isn’t it, y/n?”

Usually, you liked hearing your mother read her fairytales but that morning you couldn’t ignore the dark circles under your mother’s eyes and the bruise she hid with the sweep of her hair. With every passing day since your mother had remarried – no, even further than that, since your father had gone on a scouting expedition and never came back, you were reminded more and more that fairytales were not real.

You considered the titans outside the walls, waiting to devour humanity, and your mother waiting for your stepfather to change and wished aloud, “I wish I was a knight and then I could rescue us and we’d live happily ever after.”

Your mother had gasped, stricken-faced and speechless.

Before snatching your hands into hers and holding you steady. “Y/N L/N, you take that back right now. There is nothing wrong with the way we live. We could be in an even worse position without your father, you hear me?”

You started to protest, but she didn’t give you a moment to speak.

“Would you rather us live in the Underground? With no one to protect us? Because that’s what would have happened if he hadn’t shown us kindness. Are you really that ungrateful?”

She clutched your hands so harshly that you were brought to tears, before guiltily loosening her grip and pulling you into her arms. Her sobs reverberated against the small of your back as she buried her face into your eight-year-old frame.

“It’ll all work out in the end, baby,” she whispered as if she were convincing herself. “I promise.”

Laying in bed that night, you selfishly dreamed that there was a knight coming to save you. To tear down the infrastructure of your small little house in Shigashina. He’d run a sword through your enemies. He’d shield you from the titans. He’d reach for your hand, pull you out of the cold rubble of your home and he would take you away.

Somewhere far where no titans roamed the land and you ran free beneath the pretty birds that soared the blue skies.

But then the dream turned into a nightmare, the knight into a monster, who scooped you up in his large hand and swallowed you whole.

You woke up with a start as you were falling into the abyss but did not cry.

Instead, you looked out your window, waiting for the sun to rise high and kiss the sky. And you decided even if your knight was a titan, it would still be worth it all if you could get free.

[astaroth1357]

Leviathan's Odyssey 4:

Conquest

*more time has passed and Lucifer is in his room finishing a mountain of paperwork when he hears a knock on his door. Before he even has a chance to ask who it is,  Asmo and Mammon stumble into the room - both looking like they've just been through a war zone. Mammon us cradling a sleeping but equally messy looking Satan against his shoulder. Lucifer stands upon seeing them in such a state*

Lucifer: What in the world happened to you three?? Weren't you just taking Satan to the market?!

Asmo: *throws his hands up in exasperation* We did, but this little beast leapt out of my arms and attacked the cute succubus I was chatting up!!

Mammon: You'd think she stole his wallet or somethin'...

Asmo: *rolls his eyes and glares at his brother* No, Mammon. You stole her wallet.

Mammon: *smirks despite himself* What? You're a good distraction.

Asmo: Oh, shut up scumbag!

Mammon: Hey! I am not a-!!!

Lucifer: *beams Mammon in the head with a pen and whispers urgently* Quiet…! Or you'll wake him up… 

*both Mammon and Asmo exchange looks before silently agreeing to keep it down… for all their sakes…*

Asmo: Still… it was so awful, Lucifer… You should have seen what he did to that lovely woman's neck…! And her face… Ugh… *starts actually tearing up* Such a waste of good beauty…

Mammon: *shrugs, unbothered really* Eh. Least he learned his first word today.

Lucifer: *raises his eyebrows in disbelief* He did?? I didn't think he was capable of speech… *he starts to walk over to them to have a look at the sleeping baby* What word?

Mammon: *sweatdrops* Um… well. It's "D-"

*before Mammon can finish his sentence, Satan's eyes suddenly fling open having sensed Lucifer near and he howls a shrill, baby-ish battlecry-*

Satan: DIE!!!

*he whips his head around and sinks what few - but sharp - teeth his demon body has into Mammon's cheek, making his older brother scream and drop him instinctively. Thankfully, Lucifer is close enough to catch the snarling boy before he hits the ground*

Mammon: *clutches his bleeding cheek* OW!! What the hell was that for!?! 

Lucifer: Mammon!! Don’t drop the baby!

Mammon: But he bit me!! On the FACE!!!

Lucifer: I don't care!!

*he holds Satan out at a cautious arms length while he throws his little fists in the air*

Satan: DIE!! Diediedie!!! Die die DIE DIE!!!

Lucifer: Well… He does seem fond of that word, doesn't he…? *sighs*

Asmo: How uncute… *sighs along with brother but Lucifer shakes his head*

Lucifer: Yes, but this is still a promising development…

Mammon: It is?? The little monster attacked a chick and bit me!

Lucifer: He's not a monster, or need I remind you that he's a demon? Just like the rest of us.

*both Lucifer’s glare and his words make Mammon shrink back a little, re-thinking what he said silently...*

Lucifer: … And no. Not the biting, you imbecile. The talking. If he can speak, then maybe soon he can reason. And if he can do that, he can learn…

Mammon: What good is that gonna do us if he's tryin' to bite our heads off…?

Lucifer: *looks at Mammon with deepening irritation* Because if he can learn, we can teach him not to do that, my sweet, stupid baby brother… *he sighs again and starts bouncing Satan in his arms to get him to calm down*

Lucifer: One of you go get Mr. Whiskers… I'll stay with him for now.

Mammon: Not it! 

*he books it from the room to go find a bandage, leaving Asmo with Lucifer and little Satan. The more Lucifer rocks and bounces the little demon, though, the more he appears to calm down and even start to smile. It’s as cute as a baby’s grin always is*

Satan: Die! Die~!

Asmo: *watches Lucifer actually calm the little hellspawn down in disbelief* Wow… I didn't think he could actually smile…

Lucifer: *looks down at the grinning baby with a somewhat relieved expression on his face* As long as he's not shouting anymore… Now go get Mr. Whiskers. He's in the crib over there.

Asmo: *looks at the calmed baby a moment longer before sighing to his brother* If you insist...

~Meanwhile in the Midst of an Underwater Battlefield~

*the ocean water is awash in bloody colors as Levi cuts down another ravenous beast in his way. He's been carving a path through the Devil's Sea for weeks now with Lotan by his side, his pace only increasing as his power grows*

*his conquest started small, only taking new territories that were close to his own, but there was always something needling the back of his mind… A bitter and resentful feeling that he couldn't quite place, nor direct, but anytime he saw somewhere better than his own it just spurred him forward...*

"Why can't I have that, too??"

*he'd lost his home, his family, his safety and it just wasn't fair ...But he was going to fix that*

*swinging his trident through murky water, he easily slashes through and dismembers the hordes of grunts attempting to charge him. They're no match for him, really. His increasingly war torn body seemed to be made for this - for darting along the currents and impaling everything in his wake… Any wounds he’d get would heal instantly, every life he’d take fueled him farther. He hadn’t slept in days and honestly, he didn’t need to. He had never been strong as an angel but now? He could gut creatures thrice his size...*

*he has to slash through waves upon waves of body fodder before he finally feels the blades connect with his actual target. An enormous beast that dwarfs him without question, shaped like a man but with an array of talon-lined tentacles instead of feet. Its size compared to the mere minions that surround him marking it as the alpha of its race* 

*it snarls and attempts to lunge for him, but Levi plunges the prongs of his trident through the scales of its neck to halt it. The wounds are shallow… for now. But one wrong move and a decapitation is guaranteed*

Levi: (Stand. Down.)

*the creature attempts to screech at him, but one slight twist of the trident silences its cries. The chaotic fighting starts to calm around them as the rest of the beast's colony freezes. Levi can’t hide a satisfied smirk, he likes it when they push back just a little... it makes the surrender feel even better. He doesn’t let up on the pressure for a moment, but he regards the beast with cold, slitted eyes - assessing what's before him…*

Levi: (Can you understand me...?)

*the creature doesn’t respond to him with words, but a low rumble from its chest resembling acknowledgement... He’s worked with less*

Levi: (Good enough. You have two choices.) *he presses the blades just a centimeter deeper and forces the creature to look him in the eye*

Levi: (Join me… or die.)

*Lotan’s seven snapping heads rise up from behind him, long necks weaving in and out from each other as every one seems to strain to reach the victim first. Behind his one friend, other creatures of all shapes and sizes - each more horrifying than the last - peel away from their battles with the grunts and fall in line behind him. Soon, there are twenty or so other towering monstrosities who all met with a similar offer. Join his ranks or perish in an instant...*

*the creature watches Levi and his hungry generals crowd the water before it and lets out one last hiss… before bowing its head in silence. Levi takes this as a sign of defeat and pulls his trident free. Blood pools into the water around them, but the cuts are shallow enough to heal*

Levi: *doesn’t even glance back to at his ranks, but gives a command anyway* (Take him.)

*long, black tendrils lash out from behind him and start to drag away his new recruit. It’ll get used to things with them soon enough... While the grunts disperse to follow their former leader, one of Lotan’s many heads joins his smaller friend*

Lotan: (More land for us… Good land.)

Levi: (But there’s still better…) *the feeling comes back to him like a swarm of buzzing bees festering beneath his skin... raw, burning, and irritating* (Isn’t there?)

Lotan: (Yes.) *the beast again licks at the floating blood by its snout. If he realizes Levi’s upset, he’s not saying anything… he never does* (Far better. Always better. But not strong enough yet…)

*Levi finally glances back at his forces, holding his trident aloft - like clockwork, those who see it freeze and the others follow suit, all awaiting their next command. Some he bested in battle, others he dragged in by force - others still only following him because they sense the strength within... a veritable army growing beneath the waves…*

Levi: (We’re going to be.)

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

[savoies]

i don't know you yet - anthony beauvillier.

summary: soulmates. they exist right? y/n and tito live their daily lives doing activities thinking if the right person will ever come.

word count: 2k.

warnings: maybe a few bad words. hopefully angst. 

a/n: i think this might be my first "angst" so please let me know what you think. i am so proud of this work and honestly probably one of my bests. loosely inspired by idk yet by alexander 23. thank you so much to @puckbuddies for all the help, love ya!

taglist + tagging a few folks: @quintnsbyfield @vincecdunn @bigboigritty @ana-maa @puckshitbitch @alxvlasic @stfukie @laurenairay @damn-dunner-29 @kaitieskidmore1 @thelionkingpw @aria253264 @hartsyhart @boesxr @mitch-slap @frostythegoalman @teenagekook @barzysthighs

tagging some lovely folks: @laurenairay @konecny-s @bestestbenn @vinceduhn @folkloreflyers .

(*credit to gif owner.*)

Many people imagine their dream person or think of the person they want to date or marry from a young age. Y/N remembered going to sleepovers and her friends talking about how they wanted a boyfriend with blue eyes and blonde hair or brown hair and brown eyes. But when Y/N's turn came around she always said the same thing "I don't care what they look like as long as they are the right person for me." And that's when the game would end. Because twelve year olds could not fathom that everyone had their person and at some point they'd meet and everything would work out. Her mindset was set as growing up her mom would always tell her the same story. When I met your dad I just knew she'd say.

Tito had dated his fair share of girls. Blonde, brown haired, a red head, and a spontaneous colored haired girl here and there. But none caught his attention. Not that they weren't pretty or anything but Tito was not really one to date and dump. He liked forming connections and really getting to know them. But being a hockey player was not really quite helpful. They'd be invited to a party here and there and of course Mat begged Tito to go with him because he needed a wingman and Tito could not really say no to his best friend.

~~~~

Y/N had believed she had met her special person her second year into college. A tall lanky boy with brown hair. They had both met in the library when they reached for the same book. Might seem cheesy but she took it as a hint. After "considently" bumping into eachother in the library many more times he had asked her out. Most of their dates were pretty basic just like her. Maybe that's why she enjoyed them so much. Two years. Two years is how long she dated him for. But sadly people fall out of love. She had heard about that happening only in movies. Never really thinking that it could happen to her. But then she heard some of the worst words anyone could ever hear. "I don't love you anymore." 

Her heart was sad. Her first real relationship. Who she believed was the one. But she understood. This wasn't her fairytale. But she was broken. Her still being in love. Thoughts invading her mind. What did she do wrong? What could she have done better? So after that it took her time to open up again, to bring those walls down to handsome looking strangers. She wasn't one just to date for fun. So she rarely did bring them down. Sometimes she'd sit in her dark room late at night letting her thoughts consume her. How maybe she'd never find the one, how she was unlovable, how she had way too high of expectations to believe there was someone for everyone. 

~~~~~

Every Monday morning Y/N would go to the same coffee shop and get the same order, a medium coffee with sugar and cream. To her it was a nice way to start the week. She had been doing it since she moved to Brooklyn in 2016. 

Tito had been begging Mat to go with him to this coffee shop in Brooklyn that apparently had great coffee. Tito was what you could call a food and drinks connoisseur. Having cooked many times for his teammates and best friend.

" Come on Mat, Grace and Anders said it the best they've had and they've lived here much longer than us. Plus you owe me for getting you that girls number last week, don't forget to call her." Tito wasn't one to get acquainted with Mat's hookups but he did feel bad when the next morning Mat was kicking them out before sunrise.

Mat finally agreed and here they were on a Monday morning way too early for Mat's liking for a straight black coffee that was "rich in flavor" according to Tito. It was quite busy for it being Monday but they patiently waited in line.

Y/N gathered her stuff and exited the crowded coffee shop, careful not to bump into anyone and headed her way to work.

After waiting for about fifteen minutes they ordered two medium coffees and headed out to the busy New York streets.

She had walked about ten minutes away from the coffee shop before she realized that she forgot her phone. Y/N checked her watch and noticed that if she was gonna make it on time she had only five minutes to retrieve her phone. So she quickly but carefully dogged through people as she made her way back to the coffee shop.

Tito and Mat were casually walking back to the car having parked it a few blocks down when they saw someone running their way. Tito wasn't paying much attention due to savoring his cup of coffee which to him was totally worth the twenty minute drive and six dollars.

"Dude she's hot." Mat turned around and checked out the girl that somewhat seemed like she was running away from something instead of for something. 

"Mat that's gross. You literally didn't even see her face and are labelling her hot just by seeing her ass, I understand why you need a wingman now."

"Hey!" Mat slapped his best friend's shoulder as Tito drank his coffee trying to stifle a laugh (which he failed) since Mathew knew it was true.

~~~

Y/N had heard it many times from her friends, family, and probably even a few strangers. It was time to get a date. She wasn't desperate to really get anywhere. She was a 22 year old living in one of the most populated states in the country. She has time right? Deep down she knew that if she didn't get out there her person would probably not come by themselves. Which brings her to present day staring at her  phone screen at 1am. Earlier in the day Y/N's friend texted her that she knew someone who deemed specific qualities the young romantic wanted. 

~~~

Y/N met Grace in the coffee shop. She had come in a little bit later due to having the day off and sleeping in. Grace and Ruby sat in one of the corners of the small spaced coffee shop and Y/N sat next to them trying to stay in her own space but finding it quite difficult when there was a cute baby trying to get her attention a few feet away. After Grace apologizing for invading her space and Y/N saying it was really no problem they continued to meet in the coffee shop every once in a while. And a friendship blossomed later having exchanged numbers.

Grace was great. She listened to Y/N's tall tales of soulmates and love and she even told her about how she found her love (which she referred to as anders, y/n never having met him before) and how they had a beautiful baby girl together. She knew Y/N wanted someone who was sweet and kind and liked forming deeper connections so when she had an encounter with Tito she knew she should text her.

~~~

It was a late Friday night and the boys were celebrating a win in a rowdy club somewhere in downtown Brooklyn. The single guys trying to get the attention of some girls by buying them drinks. Grace had been standing at the bar with some of the other girls when she saw that Tito sat alone at the booth that occupied their stuff.

"Seems like our stuff doesn't really need a bodyguard, why aren't you out there buying a girl a drink or dancing?" She spoke somewhat loudly due to the pounding music and shouting of people.

"Not really my thing." He smiled softly back at his captain's wife. Tito was not fond of clubs or bars. He felt as though it was way too loud to actually have a proper conversation with someone. That's when it clicked. Of all the times the team had gone out not once had Tito really smiled or joked around with a girl. Grace connected the dots and decided to text Y/N in the morning.

~~~

A simple message was displayed across Y/N's screen. Simply reading "hey i know dates aren't your thing but i know someone who i think you might like."

After sleeping on it for quite a few more hours than she needed to, she decided to bite the bullet and text Grace back. "Why the hell not." 

Not even two minutes later Y/N's phone dinged indicating a response. "Perfect, I'll let him know."

There she sat on her bed over thinking if this was really a good idea.

~~

Tito was way over his head. Grace had texted him that she knew of a girl who was quite exactly Tito's type. At least she loosely stated it that way. He had agreed only on the condition that Mat was having a girl over later tonight and he wanted to be as far away from that as possible since they did have pretty thin walls. So exactly five hours later here he stood outside the infamous coffee shop which held the secret ingredient to the best coffee he had. Grace didn't tell him much other than her hair color which was quite difficult to find in New York since every once in a while a sea of same colored haired girls would come by. He waited outside deeming it more on the gentlemenier side. Whatever that meant. Ten minutes later wrapping his coat on tighter and checking his watch for what seemed to be the five time. Maybe she stood him up. I mean he didn't have too many redeeming qualities. I mean hell he lived in New York and didn't like clubs, parties, and sometimes hated big crowds which were what seemed to be a big part of where he lived. Rocking on the back of his heels he decided to wait a bit longer thinking that hopefully she was just running late.

~~~ 

Indeed she had been running quite late. Her cousin had pleaded her to take care of her baby because she had some errands to run. She didn't mind at all since she did in fact love babies. But when four thirty rolled around and still no sign of her cousin she began to worry. She didn't have this mystery dudes number (which Grace referred to him as Anthony) so she couldn't really text him that she was gonna be a bit late. She really hoped he would wait because all throughout the day her excitement grew more and more. Finally five rolled around and Y/N quickly handed off the baby and changed into something more date worthy rushing out the door in the cold breeze of the afternoon. She rushed to the coffee shop and as she arrived she could see a tall stranger looking down at the ground presumably freezing since it was pretty cold. She dodged a few people hoping that this was indeed her date.

"Hi uhm are you Anthony." She spoke up and she stood awkwardly pulling the sleeves of her sweaters. "Gosh please be Anthony or im just gonna look like an idiot." She whispered.

Tito turned around at a soft voice and was faced with one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Her baby hairs were sticking out and her nose and cheeks were red from the cold, she seemed to be somewhat out of breath.

Y/N looked up and caught sight of some of the most memorizing eyes she had ever seen. This handsome stranger who she presumed  as Anthony had amazing features.

Tito cleared his throat and reached out his hand. "Hi uhm yeah im Anthony but you can call me Tito, or at least that's what my friends call me." He began to ramble.

"Nice to meet you im y/n." They shook hands and a soft electric shock was felt between the two. They both glanced up and she knew it was too soon to tell since she had just met him but she felt an extra special connection with him.

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Kim Taehyung/Reader [F]

Genre: royal au, magic au, hopelessly romantic, fluff, dashes of angst, taehyung is a brat but in a fun way, y/n is babie, could kinda be considered love at first sight? 

Warning(s): toxic royality (the king), brief mentions of isolation/selling of servants, one mean lady who whacks y/n with a dowel rod

Words: 8.2k

Series | One-shot | Two-Shot | Drabble | [Rated: T ]

Summary: You were born with magic. Born by two perfectly normal human parents, you were born in a bright light that others considered cursed. With your father walking out and your mother abandoning you, you were sold to the royal palace in the Lisha Kingdom who had heard of your magic.  You were handed over to them not as a person, but as a prisoner.  At the age of 5, the king placed you in magic binding items and placed a mask over your mouth, keeping your cursed words of sorcery locked away.  

Now, his eldest son who had been living abroad from far off kingdoms to the seven seas- learning and experiencing the world as he knew it- returns to the palace to take his place as the crowned prince and Lisha’s future king.  What he can’t seem to wrap his head around, however; is the beautiful servant girl who is always wearing a mask and no matter how much he talks to her, she never talks back.  

a/n: so, this is something I started late last year and while at the time, i was super excited to start it, as time passed I let it sit and then when I came back to it, I had no idea what on earth to do with it. So, instead of pressuring myself into something I wouldn’t be happy with, I dusted up the draft I had and I am posting this as an open? unfinished? piece.  I have no future intentions of continuing it, even if the ending is so open with room for questions, I simply don’t have the answers. I’m trying to be more fair to myself when it comes to my work and not pressuring myself into writing a story I won’t be happy with. That goes along with not stressing out either. Nonetheless! I hope that what I did get completed was worth the read!  ily <3 

“I sure hope you are not planning on sneaking off; now are you, Your Highness?” The prince froze mid-step as he was previously attempting to leave his carriage entourage, but got caught by the temporary attendant to make sure he got back to the palace in the process.  “We only just entered the capital, what could you possibly be going off to do?” 

The platinum-haired prince turned around with an over-dramatic swing and pitiful stomp of his feet on the carriage step.  Built with soft yet sturdy muscles from his days traveling and sailing at sea, his tanned skin was the perfect shade to swoon anyone who looked at him.  Eyes big and blue in color- a rare trait to have such bright hair and eyes in the royal family. 

“I haven’t been home in years!” The prince countered with a pitched fit.  “I want to explore before I go to the castle.  What’s so wrong with that?” 

His attendant only shook his head.  “I see your time abroad spoiled you rotten.” The prince inwardly scowled.  It did not.  “You need to head to the palace and greet your father- the king- immediately.  He is no patient man.” 

The prince rolled his eyes.  He highly doubted his father had changed.  Even when he was a small child and still lived with his father in the palace walls, he could remember his strict and blunt father.  The stereotype of royalty was upheld to a new level when the focus was put on Lisha’s king. The prince stepped back into the carriage interior before plopping himself across the plush bench.  Arms folded behind his head and one of his boot-clad feet kicked up across from him on the opposite bench as he huffed.  

“Prince Taehyung! Your attitude is rather uncalled for.” 

“Why stand around bickering about it?  I thought we had to go see the king immediately?”  Taehyung mocked as his leg that hung off the bench bounced against the velvet in some unpatterned rhythm that played the tune of annoyance.  The attendant kept his itching argument to himself remembering it wasn't just some bratty kid he was talking to, but the crown prince of Lisha.  

He just bowed his head before shutting the carriage door.  Soon, Taehyung jostled across his bench when the carriage took off moving forward.  The sound of clopping hooves paired with the sound of wheel crunched dirt and stone. 

An impatiently sat hour later and Taehyung had been taken into the palace ground, met with his father- as pleasant as that was- for the smallest amount of time used for a visit. Taehyung questioned if it was truly necessary in the first place and then was promptly sent off.  Not having nowhere specifically to go to other than his quarters later, he just wandered.  

Walking around with dark trousers and a shirt so white and worn it was nearly sheer and obviously two sizes too big as it’s thin fabric puffed as it stayed tucked into his bottoms.  The summer was much harsher inland than it was out in the open seas and he can say he had quite the distaste for warm weather. 

As he wandered and familiarized himself with his home again, he heard gossip from this way and that.  Some about royal unfairness- a fair complaint if Taehyung was honest.  Other about pains that began to come with their growing age.  And a lot about ‘her’- she never being named.  From what he could gather form just passing words of his eavesdropping, someone was employed as a castle servant and not well-liked by her peers.  Intrigued, Taehyung finally had a goal in all his aimless walking. 

Put his charisma and people skills to work and find the ‘not-very-well-liked’ servant girl. 

It was noon by the time Taehyung felt like giving up already.  He had spent hours walking around in circles and even talking to a few staff circles but turned up empty-handed to figure out just who this unliked girl was.  He stood on the second story of the west wing’s balcony as the summer air was as stagnant as a puddle of warm water.  Feeling his sweat roll down his back, he let out a small yelp when something touched the back of his neck. 

Jumping back and away to his right, he held his neck and looked to see what touched him.  Expecting to see some sort of critter on the ground, he instinctively looked down.  Instead of a rodent or bug, he saw a pair of feet.  Looking up, he was soon making eye contact with a pair of large- rather pretty- eyes.  

His eye shot back down to your feet. Wearing no shoes, but two anklets around each ankle, you were already an odd one to Taehyung.  Looking you over, you looked normal, yet not.  Dressed in a skirt and corset with a long-sleeved worn maids shirt, it looked like palace work clothing.  You wore no gloves as others did and wore a set of two bracelets around your wrists that matched the ones on your ankles.  Hair pulled back off your neck completely to try and outwit the heat, Taehyung looked at the mask covering the lower half of your face. 

Looking down at your hands, he saw you held a small handkerchief.  

“So that’s what touched me!” He exclaimed, letting out a breath of air- relieved it wasn’t a critter after all.  Even with all his time out in the open, he still got freaked out at the initial idea of anything creepy-crawly running around on his body.  “Sorry for the noise, I hope I didn’t scare you?” He asked, apologizing for how he scampered away from you so suddenly.  

You just smiled as your eyes pushed up and shook your head.  Taehyung tilted his head a fraction. 

“You’re… not a talker are you?” You shook your head again.  “What is it? Shy or something?”  You shook your head again before you pulled something from a small pouch that was strapped to your side.  A small little notepad and a worn, wooden pencil.  Scribbling on it with speed to impress the best writer, you were soon holding your notebook in front of Taehyung’s face. 

‘I’m not allowed to talk.’

“Not… allowed? Who made that rule up, that’s just ridiculous.” He breathed out.  

‘It’s true!’ You wrote as you pointed at it for emphasis as he could see your cheek puff from under your mask.  

“But, you can talk, can’t you?  Just not allowed to?” You nodded. Taehyung watched as you started scribbling again.  

‘I haven’t seen you around here before.  Are you visiting the capital?’

“Oh, no- nothing like that.”  Taehyung rubbed his neck.  “You see, I’m actually-” 

“Y/n!”  You jumped as you whirled around and saw an older servant at the corner of the balcony- not too far from you and Taehyung.  She stomped her way around the corner and to your side, lightly swatting your bare leg with a thin, wooden dowel.  “I’m certain you haven’t finished your tasks!  You cannot delay, the king expects results and you- cursed child- are hindering them!”  You bowed in silent fret before straightening your back.  

You turned to Taehyung as quickly as possible, placed your handkerchief in his open hand and pointed to his neck.  You fanned yourself as if telling him ‘it’s hot, take care of yourself’ before you rushed off with another thwack of wood to your calf.  

Taehyung didn’t even have the chance to get your name- although he heard the servant woman say it.  He couldn’t tell you his name, or who he was and here he stood.  On the second floor balcony with your white and pink embroidered handkerchief.  He wasn’t even able to scold the servant for whacking you with a dowel before she scampered off behind you.  It must’ve stung on your skin. 

Taehyung was a young man, but as he remembered you writing on your book and how your eyes looked, he chuckled like a child in puppy love. He looked at the handkerchief and folded it neatly before tucking it into the pocket of his trousers.  As long as he had that one piece of cloth, he would see you again anyways.  He had to return it, he was a gentleman after all. 

Xxx

The next morning, Taehyung snuck out of his room before any palace official came to usher him off to his royal princely duties.  Walking around in a pair of loose silk trousers and a black button-down of the same fine silk fabric, he padded around in the gardens. The fresh air reminded him of his time outside the palace, he already missed the memories of days prior. 

His steps halted when he saw someone crouched by a line of rose beaded shrubs.  A pair of shears in their hand as they snipped roses from the bush and placed them into the basket at their side.  He smiled when he saw their bare skin and anklets.  He walked up behind you before speaking. 

“What are you doing out here?” You jumped, shears falling out of your grip and stumbling back onto your rear-end.  Looking up and behind your shoulder, you saw Taehyung biting back laughter. Instead of rolling your eyes, he could see them bend into crescents and your cheeks push up under your mask.  Lifting the small notepad and pencil at your side up into your lap, you begin scribbling. 

Taehyung moved to your side and squatted down at your left.  You were soon showing him the notepad. 

‘Good morning.’ 

Taehyung waved cutely at you.  “Good morning back.  Now, about the shrub?” He pointed to the flowers before you started writing again. 

‘I heard the prince came into the castle after a really long time yesterday.  I was going to place a basket of flowers as a welcome home for him outside his room.  Anonymously of course.’ 

“Oh? So, you don’t know who the prince is?” You shook your head. “Well!” He perked up.  “I’ve heard he’s pretty handsome.  Better watch out, cute girls like you could totally be his type.”  You just shook your head, denying his little outburst as he just giggled at you.  Taehyung hopped closer and picked up your sheers.  “So, how do you know which ones to cut?” 

You pointed to a bloomed, vibrant rose.  You motioned with your hand to find bright, big petaled stems.  Following your pointed finger to each bloom he should cut, he snipped roses and placed them into the basket you didn’t yet know was actually for him. 

When you finished,  you took your shears and the basket and stood.  Taehyung offered to walk you back to your room before your royal servant duties began.  You allowed him to and you both were on your way.  Taehyung did most- all- of the talking. You tried expressing conversation with your hand waves and gestures.  Taehyung had a bit too much fun trying to decipher them like a game of charades. 

“Hey,” he called when the two of you just walked in silence. “Why can’t you talk?” You looked down and pulled your notepad out. 

‘The king hates my voice.’

“Why?  You're always barefoot and always wear a mask? Are you sick?” 

‘No.’  You started to write, but scribbled something out and wrote something else instead.  ‘I don’t think I can tell you.’ 

“Is it a secret?” 

‘Well, no.  But, sometimes it’s hard to admit.’

Taehyung nodded and placed his hand on your head.  “Sorry I asked.  I didn’t mean to upset you.” You only shook your head.  “I look forward to seeing your flowers after you’ve arranged them.” You rose your brow before you pointed at your room door, arriving at your room finally. 

He let you in and practically danced back to his room.  He stopped in his tracks and pressed his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose realizing he once again neglected to tell you his name. 

“Next time!” He shouted to no one, promising himself that next time he wouldn’t forget as he marched back to his room. 

Xxx

You entered your room that you shared with another servant girl.  She often got along with you and didn’t alienate you as others did.  Walking in, she was already dressed and awake.  She was quick to ask you where you’ve been as you’re not normally allowed to go anywhere without permission or supervision.  Royal orders. 

You showed her the basket to her before shoving your note in your face.  

‘Do you know some guy with light hair who is allowed to walk around the castle in pajamas?’ 

“What? Some nut-job in his pajamas?” You nodded, lightly flapping your notepad at her for calling him a nut-job.  “You’re making it up in a fit of loneliness.  Oh god,” you huffed, throwing your notepad down before moving to sit and place flower after flower from your basket to a glass, aqua vase.  “The silent treatment, huh?” She teased.  She soon left to start her morning. 

You waited.  Unable to do anything until the sun began to finally rise.  The king refused to let you wander the castle unless it was daytime.  You had planned to finish the flowers and hoped your supervisor would allow you to deliver them to the prince’s door before your work started.  You sighed, doubting it would happen.  You soon dressed in your work clothes, took the small vase and left- deciding to take a trip to the prince’s quarters first then meet your supervisor. 

Trotting down the hall, you rushed to place the flowers and then run back to your room to wait for your supervisor, hoping not to be caught.  Though, luck didn’t seem to be favorable with you in the grand scheme of things. 

“Y/n!” The voice of the old woman that is your superior echoed behind you.  You immediately stopped in your tracks, slowly turning around to meet her angry stomps approaching you with a glare that pinned you down.  You unconsciously held the vase closer to your chest.  “What in the world are you doing? Heading down the royal halls of our royal family. On top of it all, unauthorized!” You shrunk under her scolding. 

“What’s going on here?” A voice calmly addressed behind you.  Looking back, it was Taehyung behind you.  He had changed his clothes since earlier.  Black pants with a white long-sleeved shirt and black vest.  Hair now parted and brushed.  His fingers decorated in rings and ears pierced with small hoops.  Black boots covering his feet. 

“Ah-” your superior stuttered.  “I- your highness!” you whipped your head back to the old woman.  “I apologize for the commotion so early! Y/n here was simply disobeying a set of very specific rules and-” 

“I am only hearing excuses.” His voice was sharp in contrast to the warm way he spoke to you earlier on.  He grabbed your elbow lightly, getting your attention.  He smiled at the red peeking out from under your mask.  “You were going to give those flowers to the prince, yes?” You slowly nodded.  “Well, can I have them?” 

You looked at the flower vase and then back up. You turned around in three clumsy, unsure steps before presenting them to Taehyung.  He laughed lowly, graciously removing the vase from your grip into his. 

“Thank you, Y/n.  I, Taehyung of Lisha, truly appreciate it.” You nodded.  He called for your ear as he shot your supervisor a look of ‘stay back and hush’. “Come meet me later, I want to talk more is possible. Okay?” He whispered as you nodded again before you were pulled off to finally start work. 

Taehyung took the flowers you gave to him inside his room, placing them in the sunlight on the small side table beside his bed.  He laughed smittenly as he poked at the flowers' soft petals.  At least he was finally able to tell you his name this time. 

Xxx

Taehyung had forgotten how suffocating it could be to be inside the palace.  It may be grand and large in scale and size, but the constant hovering and directions as to what and what not to do as prince kept him clicking his tongue.  He’d find himself muttering prayers of patience to get through just the formalities.  He may have been gone for years, but he didn’t forget how to be princely.  

He crossed paths with his father a few times in the halls, only stopping to lower his head to him in respect as he just kept on going, his attendant in tow.  Taehyung hissed at his father’s back each time- not even granted a nod in return.  He wasn’t sure why, but since knowing that his father hated your voice, he grew ten times more annoyed towards him.  

In fact, you occupied many of his thoughts of the day.  He just met you, yet he seemed undeniably drawn to you for reasons he wasn’t sure of.  Was it because you were dressed so differently than the other servants? Or perhaps you had certain guidelines and rules to follow under the king's directions? 

He was currently sitting in the private library with his temporary attendant as they droned on about something or another. Taehyung- much to his aides jargon- sat slumped forward, elbow on the small round table he sat at and cheek cupped in his palm. Utterly bored, he finally found a chance to speak among a minuscule break in his attendants lecture. 

“What is the story behind the serving maid with the mask?” He voiced finally. The question brought his lecturing aide to silence before they cleared their throat. 

“Your Highness, you needn’t worry-” 

“I’m expecting a proper answer,” Taehyung fought. “Do not run me in circles. I will just simply ask about her again.” His eyes kept staring off to nowhere, focusing on nothing in particular. His jaw snapping shut each time he spoke as his palm pushed into his chin from slouching. He heard his aide sigh. 

“As you wish.” Taehyung almost tutted with a snide smirk with his clear victory over the barely started discussion- but he refrained. “She was sold to His Majesty as a child.” Taehyung’s heart dropped to his gut, although his face was as calm and unchanging as before. He has had much practice in keeping a bored expression to hide his true emotions from others. “She was sold on the condition the king suppress her abilities because her parents simply did not want a cursed child.” 

Taehyung lifted his head to his aide for the first time that afternoon. “Excuse me? Abilities and curses? Are you pulling my leg after I advised you not to?” In actuality, he knew what his attendant was referring to. Magician’s and sorcery. 

An exceedingly rare breed of human. He's met only a few before in the past during his travels abroad, but the way this attendant spoke about you was angering him. Pushing him towards a sour mood. Like mentioning your beyond normal abilities would cause some sort of bad karma. 

“No, Highness. That servant girl is under constant surveillance and strict restriction as ordered by His Majesty- your father. Every accessory she wears is a restriction.” Taehyung remembers how you explained that the king hated your voice. His brow dipped. His father hated your voice because you had magic? No, that can’t be it. The king must be frightened of your voice- the voice that should be free to recite spells because it was your birthright. 

“And that woman’s mask?” Taehyung asked. “What of that?” 

“It is a final resort to keep her silent. She cannot use or speak of magic so long as she wears it. That is the royal order. She is not even able to remove it herself, only royal blood may do so.” Taehyung’s brow ticked back up. Only the Royal bloodline can remove it, huh? He bit back a snide smirk. 

“Interesting,” he mumbled. The attendant was pleased to finally drop the topic altogether. 

The prince continued to partially listen to his ‘catch up’ lessons on palace do’s and don'ts; however, in the grand scheme of things he was always wondering when or if he’d get the chance to run into you again somewhere. He felt guilty for being the son of the man who is keeping you from reaching your true potential as a sorceress. He was the only son of Lisha’s king and you were his caged animal.  

The magic users he had spoken to before in his past had always told him the same thing when he asked how magic felt. It felt like the ocean breeze at dawn and that breeze turned into a cold, harsh storm when the magic was gone.  Without magic they felt suffocated. The torment of magic repression was enough to bring some to the brink of insanity. However, he wondered how you felt about it inside. Restricted for so long, were you in pain? 

Did you even know what magic felt like? Could you remember from your childhood before it was pushed down into the pit of your stomach and smothered? 

The moment he had the opportunity to slip away from his forced shadow, he promptly took it with haste.  Ducking out and rushing off, he was able to camp out in an alcove before the coast was clear for him to wander again. He walked with a sense of near urgency as he hoped to run into you as he’s done before. Or perhaps meet his father in the halls, that would suffice as well. 

Heading down to the royal halls where the royal families rest in their private rooms, Taehyung quickly slipped into the room that used to belong to his mother and former Queen of Lisha.  

Just the air in the room and how she had decorated it with vases and painting in the past brought the weight on Taehyung’s chest off. The room had been untouched just as he had wished- a sort of tomb of remembrance in her honor. She had not lived past 40 before illness and improper- obviously botched- treatment took hold of her. Leaving her son behind, he still missed her every morning when he woke to the sun. 

He opened the permanently unlocked wardrobe and wooden trunk in the room. Revealing dresses, corsets, hair pieces, accessories, jewels and nightwear with the occasional pair of trousers- however improper for a lady they were. The trunk had shoes that he could vaguely remember dancing on with his mother leading him when he was smaller. 

He trifled around before he pulled a pair of open top, black shoes from the trunk that could easily be worn without crafting the ankle- or anything around it.  For himself he grabbed a ruby earring that hung from his lobe as soon as he placed it on himself. It bounced off his jawline with each turn of his head.  This was his mother’s favorite color- ruby red. He smiled into the mirror that hung on the wardrobe door and hoped his mother would be proud of the man he grew up to be. 

Shutting everything back up, he grabbed the flats and left the room. He rushed around and asked any servant or guard he could find if they knew of your whereabouts. He was in the midst of asking yet another when his attention was grabbed from behind. 

“Highness, are you searching for Y/n?” He turned at the mention of your name. Not one servant he had spoken to had addressed you by name but this woman who approached him did without wavering. Young and with kind eyes. “Unfortunately, she’s wrapped up in chores until this evening. Her curfew is at sundown, so she won’t have any time for much extra activity.” She explained to him. “However, if you need to pass a message to her, I’d be happy to deliver. She and I share a room in the servants' wing, so it’d be no trouble in the slightest.” 

Taehyung’s eyes lit up. At least you weren’t completely isolated from the rest of the castle. You seemed to have a kind enough roommate- at least at surface level. It was always possible this woman with the kind eyes was lying to look good in front of him- the prince who obviously had no ill will towards you. 

“Would you? If I find out you haven’t, I’ll be very upset with you.” He lightly teased, only half meaning it the underlined threat of ‘don’t do what I ask and a royal fit is in your future’. She simply nodded. Taehyung lifted the flats into view “I’m tired of seeing her run around shoe-less because the castle won’t provide her proper shoes that don’t encase the ankle. These should help.” 

Something in the woman’s eyes shined. Like someone being kind towards you was something so asinine and rare. She gratefully took the shoes from Taehyung’s grasp as she smiled down at them so purely it almost seemed she would weep. She nodded to herself before she looked back to the prince, glee written on her features. 

“May I tell her the prince gifted these? Or shall I be anonymous with it?” Her voice perked, almost seemingly excited to deliver your new ‘royal’ shoes. 

Taehyung smiled. “Please do tell her it was me. I’d like the credit for the safety of her feet,” he chided. She nodded and before she could run off to put them in their shared room, Taehyung stopped her. “Oh, what was your name? I never caught it.” 

She smiled at the prince.  “I am Akina, Highness.” Taehyung nodded to her.  He wanted to learn as many names and faces as possible of his servants of the castle. Unlike his father, he wanted to appreciate his staff for their work.  She scampered off as Taehyung turned and went back to wandering the halls. That is until he got caught from his out of breath, frantic aide that chewed him out for simply running off.  

Taehyung was in for an earful he had a feeling he couldn’t sneak away from. 

Xxx

When you entered your shared room with Akina you slumped against your door with a silent huff.  Ever sense Taehyung had run into you and lain into your supervisor, she had gotten even harsher on you.  Your feet were sore and your legs hurt from all the dowel swats you received if you were to even step wrong walking down the hall.  Still, you just took a breath and calmed down, holding your sour disposition about your treatment. At least you weren’t executed- so you could deal with the harshness. 

“Madam Hana was too strict today, wasn’t she?” You looked up and saw the small figure of Akina sat in her bed. You nodded before you walked to her, plopping on her bed beside her.  You pulled out your notepad and ever shortening pencil as you wrote in the dimly lit room. 

‘My legs hurt from all her whacking,’ your paper whined for you. 

“Well, maybe I can cheer you up. Or, maybe our charming prince can.” You looked at Akina, your brow shooting up. She hopped off her bed before going to the small shared wardrobe in the room that held both your and her items. She grabbed something from the bottom before whirling around and coming back only to plop something into your lap. Knocking your notepad and pencil away from you. “These are from Prince Taehyung, for you.” 

You were speechless- not that you could speak anyways. Sat in your lap was the cleanest, more lovely pair of black flats you had ever seen. Enclosed around the toes and open to the top of your foot with just enough room to hook over your heel and not an inch higher. They’d be so convenient to wear. You ran your finger over their edges before you were reaching for your notepad again and scribbling furiously. You shoved the paper into Akina’s hands. 

‘Are you sure they’re for me?’ 

“He strictly instructed me that I give them to you with the message that he wants you to wear them because he doesn’t want you to hurt your feet anymore,” your roommate explained. You just stared at them star struck. The prince really wanted you to have these shoes? Where did he even get them? Regardless of if it was really him who gifted you these shoes or not, you just nodded in acceptance. 

The idea of not padding around barefoot anymore was blissful to just think about. You grew excited to wear them in the morning when another day of grilling work and dowel whacks began. Akina just smiled as she set your notepad aside, watching you kick your feet with your under eyes pushing up in a smile she couldn’t see. 

“You are just too darned cute,” the older one insisted. “If I were 10 years older, I’d adopt you in a heartbeat!” She gushed before she sat on the bed beside you and grabbed the shoes. “Let’s try them on!” 

Xxx

Taehyung woke up early that next morning, taking to the halls as they were quiet and empty in his silk, royal pjs once again.  Peach colored button up shirt that matched the same peach silk trousers that hung off his hips.  Slippers of tan on his feet and a robe of gradient corals to fight off the morning chill.  He hadn’t bothered in fixing himself to be presentable in the halls, simply because it was far too early to care about physical appearances.  

He left his room that morning and made a dash for the gardens.  He had hopped to run into you there again, but he wasn’t very hopeful. The only reason he saw you last time was because you were gathering flowers for him- the same flowers he kept in his window sill and watered. But, even if you were not in the gardens, maybe you would be somewhere else?

He stopped mid stride in the hall when he remembered that Akina had told him that you had strict surveillance and curfew.  You most definitely wouldn’t be allowed out of your room until fetched.  He groaned to himself as he then spun on his heels and backtracked towards the servant’s halls. 

Thankfully, he knew where your room was- he did drop you off once after all. 

He never realized how many servants were under the king’s employment until he was walking down halls of the servant’s wing.  It seemed they were endless before he finally turned down the hall he knew was yours. He nearly jogged when he caught sight of the door he remembered dropping you off at before. 

He came to a stop in front of it before he was knocking lightly. He turned and looked out the window behind him- the sun was almost ready to appear for the day. Although it was not yet upon the horizon, the sky had already begun to change colors. His attention fell back to the door when the door handle jostled and then twisted. 

The door was cracked open and he was greeted with Akina standing in the open crack. She seemed shocked to see Taehyung in front of her room- of course that was a valid expression. He wasn’t even properly dressed after all.  He smiled down to her as he tried to peer inside of the room- but it was too dark to see properly. He looked back to Akina ruffling his messy, blond hair. 

“Is Y/n awake yet?” He asked her.  Akina twisted her body around and watched as you remained sleeping in your bed. Curled into your blankets and softly snoring. She turned back to her prince. 

“She isn’t. Shall I wake her up?” Taehyung shook his head. 

“May I come in? I know it’s not proper for a male to enter a female’s room, but could I?” Akina’s face twisted in a few moments of shock before she was stepping back, taking the door with her as it opened further.  Apparently, she didn’t mind.  Taehyung thanked her as he stepped in, Akina shutting the door behind him. 

He stood in the room as he looked around. It was dim, the lantern on the desk in the middle of the room unlit as the morning sky only barely gave the room light.  Though it was bright enough to navigate, Akina still rushed to strike a match and light the lantern for better view. She didn’t want the crown prince falling over something and getting hurt in her room. 

The small, two bedded room was far different than his own grand room.  He felt almost guilty at the difference between staff and royal standards. However, it was something not even he could change- it was part of how the world has been.  Perhaps though, one day he could at least improve servants’ quarters. 

He shook his head, his thoughts wandering before he turned to Akina. Asking for silent permission to come closer to you. She nodded as he tiptoed to your bedside and knelt beside it.  He smiled as you slept.  

You slept curled up in blankets, tucked into your chin and curled up like you were cold. Your head had completely slipped off your pillow as you occasionally squirmed. He started poking at your face; your cheeks and nose and tracing your forehead in dumb patterns. He even poked at your mask that he was annoyed you still had to wear even while sleeping. He watched your face pout as he curled his lips to keep himself from laughing. 

“Y/n,” he called. He kept prodding at your face until your eyes started to twitch under your eyelids.  “Y/n,” he cooed again. As Taehyung tried to wake you, Akina moved to her own bed as she sat down still a bit in shock that the prince was in her room and messing with you. Eventually, your eyes slowly opened, before blinking slowly. He smiled at you as your eyes moved to look at him. “Good morning,” he greeted. 

He laughed as your eyes shot open now realizing who was in front of your bed.  Tangled in your blankets you shot up and tried to get out of your fabric prison. Sitting up, your torso free of your blanket, but your legs still trapped in it’s folds, you looked past Taehyung to Akina. She was simply smiling at you, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders before you looked back at the prince. 

You looked around to the desk and saw your notepad and pencil sat there, but too far for you to reach.  You jumped when Taehyung stood from his knelt position beside you and started to pull at your blanket.  You moved as he tugged and before long he was pulling the blanket off you completely. 

Taehyung looked at the notepad on the desk before he was grabbing it and placing it in your lap before he was sitting himself down beside you on your mattress.  He decided to keep his opinion on your white nightgown to himself- you looked adorable in it. He giggled as you started to scribble down words quickly before shoving it into his lap. 

‘What are you doing here, Your Highness?’ 

“I didn’t get to see you all day, so I came to see you.” He gently set your notepad back in your lap before he was talking again. “I know you're under some strict scheduling, but do you want to go walk with me? I have something I want to talk to you about.” Your eyes widened before you looked down at your lap and lightly kicked your feet against your bed frame.  Your being filled with nervousness as Akina was soon standing up. 

She moved to the trunk at the end of your bed before she reached into the wardrobe and grabbed a bag to hang your notepad and pencil in.  She was now kneeling in front of you, grabbing your feet around your anklets before she was slipping your new, black flats onto your feet. 

Taehyung smiled as Akina helped you, glad that she not only gave you the shoes like he asked, but they fit so well on you. She then grabbed your notepad from your lap and placed it into the small bag before helping you to your feet.  

“If Madam Hana comes by, I’ll try and stall for you. Go enjoy the morning before work, okay?” She held your hands before she slung the bag over your shoulder to let it rest on your hip. Taehyung was soon standing behind you and patting your back between your shoulder blades.  He smiled down at you, something that helped ease your nerves.  

Between the both of them, you were soon out in the halls with your nightgown on and Taehyung beside you in his pajamas as Akina shut the door behind you both. You shivered from the cool air in the halls compared to your small, warm room.  Taehyung was quick to pull the silk robe from his shoulders and place it over you.  

“Wear this,” he urged as you wanted to decline as it was a royal’s robe.  He just persisted before he pulled your arms through the sleeves and straightened it to sit on your shoulders.  Your shoulder didn’t quite fill it out like his did, but that was alright.  You had to admit, it was a lot warmer than nothing at all. “Let’s go talk,” he soothed as he was soon leading you off to somewhere. 

Xxx

Taehyung had taken you to a small, secluded part of the royal gardens where you’re not usually allowed.  Only royals are allowed beyond a certain point and the select few of servants who care for the garden.  Shrubs and bushes of healthy, green color.  Rows of flowers lining the cobblestone paths and marble busts of past royal rulers.  A small fountain at the center off all the intermingled paths of stone. 

He watched you look around and fidget with your fingers.  You were currently disobeying a number of rules at the moment. Leaving your room without permission, not being properly supervised, wearing the prince’s robe, entering a restricted garden where servants aren’t allowed.  Your mind couldn’t keep up with everything that’s happened in such a short burst of time.  

Taehyung pulled you along with him until he sat you down on a stone bench near the fountain before he sat next to you.  He sat in silence for a moment as you continued to fidget. He was slouched back, looking up at the color changing sky as the windy blew in small wisps.  He hoped his robe was enough to keep your warm. 

“I ended up asking my attendant about you, you know?” He started.  He could practically feel you stiffen next to him. “I learned a lot about you from him and learned why you do what you do. Though, I have a lot of questions to ask you about it personally.” He felt you moved beside him, taking out your notepad to write on it before you were tapping on his thigh. 

‘Are you angry about it? What you learned?’ 

“No,” he shook his head. “Or maybe I am, but not with you.” He sighed as he brought his chin down to look at the fountain. “I heard that you were sold to my father when you were a child and that the first thing he did was slap you in restraints. That is what I am angry about.” 

‘So, you know what my restraints are for?’ Your notepad asked him before he was looking down at your lap. Your fingers were trembling, but something told him it wasn’t because of the morning chill.  You were scared.  It was clear that you were isolated from your fellow servants because the knowledge of your magic wasn’t exactly a well kept, royal secret.  

“Yes, I know you’re a sorceress, Y/n.”  You ducked your head, tucking your chin into your chest in shame as you just wished to fade away and disappear with the wind.  It wasn’t your fault you were born like this and it wasn’t your fault that everyone thought you were some kind of tumor to be removed from society.  

Everything was taken from you since you were a child and it wasn’t your fault.  You slowly wrote before handing him the notepad again. 

‘I am sorry,’ you apologized. Taehyung’s slouched figure straightened before he was taking the notepad and setting it on the ground on top of the cobblestone and out of your reach.  Your eyebrows shot up as you went to go and reach for it before Taehyung was off the bench and kneeling in front of you. He grabbed your hands, stopping your attempts to retrieve your book back. 

“Y/n, I don’t want you to apologize for something my family did to you.” His voice was stern as he forced you to look at him as he spoke on his knees in front of you.  “It is my father and his awful rules against sorcery that put you right here, right now. It is in no way your fault, you were born with your magic- you can’t just get rid of it or outgrow it.” Your eyes didn’t move from his. You weren’t sure how, but he knew how you felt about it and he was putting to ease all your anxieties. “Listen to me, I want to do something. I have things I want to do that involve you- things I want to do to protect you.” 

You furrowed your brows as he let go of your hands and reached up to your face.  He traced around the edges of your mask. You reflexively reached up to hold it, keeping the straps behind your ears even if you knew it wouldn’t fall off.  You couldn’t take it off, no one could but His Majesty to your knowledge. Taehyung smiled up to you. 

“I have a request, and by the end of our conversation this morning, I’d like for you to answer me properly. Is that alright, Y/n?” You simply nodded to him.  He placed his hands over your own that were held up by your ears. “I heard that both your gauntlets and anklets are suppressors, and that this mask is also one. When you told me that the king hates your voice, you were talking about your magic, yes?” You nodded again. “Alright, then you also know that you’re unable to take your mask off.” 

You felt dumb just nodding to him. But it is all you could do. With him blocking your path to your notepad on the ground and his hands holding yours in place by your ears, you had no other choice but to nod or shake your head in response to his questions. 

“Only royal blood can remove your mask,” his tone suddenly changed.  It was short and quiet as opposed to his earlier stern monologue.  “If that is true, then I can take this mask off of you.” Your eyes widened.  “If that’s possible, I’m going to try. I’m going to pull this mask off and I want to hear your voice. I want to see your face, I want to know what you sound like and what you look like when you smile.” 

You felt him let go of your hands as he moved his fingers behind your ears.  You felt his fingertips feather around the shell of your ear before they hooked under your mask’s straps. Your breath halted.  

“When I remove this, I want you to call for me,” he instructed you. You didn’t even nod to him that time.  Just remained breathless and still. The sensation of him pulling your mask over your ears and away from your cheeks was odd.  It felt like static as you could physically feel something coming back to you. Your throat felt warm and your cheeks tingled with feeling.  Like something was being returned to you.  

When your mask was pulled from your mouth and away from your face, the wind picked up. The morning chill being blown away as a warm, summer breeze fell in place to comfort your bare face. You ducked your head away from his eyes. Taehyung took your mask before he placed it behind him, joining it with the notepad on the cobblestone before he lifted his hands back to cup your cheeks. 

Your cheeks were soft and warm. They pushed under the pressure of his hands as he lifted your chin to look at him. When your eyes met his again your face flushed and he could see the red hue that crept onto your skin under his hands. He smiled at you the moment the sun started to breach the horizon now. 

“Memorizing,” he told you. “Now, call for me.” He watched your pink lips open and close, unsure on how to do it. What to do and then the anxieties set in again. You haven't used your voice in so long. What did it sound like now? Would it be weak and hoarse? No, surely not.  Your throat was warm and smooth and you felt something magical in the absence of your mask. “It’s alright,” Taehyung soothed. “It’s just us here, just try.” 

He watched you stick your tongue out to lick at your dry lips before you opened your mouth again. He felt your jaw move under his hands and your cheeks hollow out at your lips unsure movements. Your chest inflated as you took a breath in. 

“Um,” the small noise that came out of your mouth made Taehyung jump as his fingertips pushed into your cheeks further.  Trying to urge you to speak, he just nodded as you tried again. “Prince Taehyung?” You whispered in a small, adorable voice.  

Taehyung’s jaw dropped before you gasped and pushed your palms against your mouth as if you had just committed a crime.  In a sense, you did.  It was a royal order that you not speak, but then again it was the prince who told you to speak in the first place after he took off your mask.  You were confused and shocked at your own choice of actually speaking again. 

“Y/n, would you consider being my lady-in-waiting?” Taehyung blurted out as your eyes bugged before he continued.  “I know it’s not proper, and that only noblewomen are assigned court ladies, but I am without an assistant and I want it to be you.” 

You had never heard of a prince asking for a woman servant to tend to him before.  It was absolutely asinine. However, when you looked at Taehyung, he really meant it.  

“Why?” Was your reply and he felt his hair stand on end at hearing your voice again. “The king would surely reject the idea.” It was so soft, like velvet to his ears.

“I will speak to him. He is my father and I will fight him on this.  He has no choice if I threaten my throne after all- it works as a last resort.”  Threatening his throne? As in threatening to not come to rule and dismissing his coronation one day in the future? That’s ridiculous! “Of course, I’d never really give up my place as crown prince, but it’s a good bargaining chip.” 

“But, Madam Hana. She is my supervisor, if I-” 

“If you serve under me, she will be unnecessary.  I do not want to see her hit you anymore.” 

“My prince, I don’t know.”  It was no surprise that you were unsure about it.  It was all so sudden, not to mention all the unknown variables about such a strong choice.  “What answer do you want from me,” you whimpered as you fiddled with the fabric of your nightgown.  Taehyung ran his thumb across your cheek as he pulled his lips back into a smile.  

“Whatever answer you give me, I’ll accept it. Unlike my father, I am no bully,” he teased.  You smiled at the prince calling the king something as lowly as a ‘bully’. His time abroad seemed to have fused this childish, refreshing nature into his persona. It made you feel warm and Taehyung felt like a spring shower. 

“If I agree, would you be happy?” 

“Yes,” he answered in a heartbeat.  

“You are so sure of yourself,” you replied to his quickfire answer.  

“I am sure of you.” 

As you sat in the restricted garden of royalty, the prince of Lisha on his knees in front of you holding your cheeks in his silk pajamas with his hands that had removed your mask, you made a decision. Perhaps, it was a foolish one in the making.  It would surely anger the king and could create tension among your fellow servants.  It would undoubtedly cause Madam Hana to go into a fit. But when you thought of Akina and her support as well as your Prince Taehyung who knelt before you, all that didn't seem to matter any more. 

It felt like you were regaining a piece of freedom you were stripped of when you were young.  

“I would,” you told him.  “I would consider it, if you would allow me,” you finalized.  If being his lady-in-waiting and throwing out the standard status quo was what it was going to take to please your prince, then you’d just have to accept it and follow him.  He was the first royal to even show you a spec of kindness like his late mother did once very long ago. 

Yes, you should stick to Prince Taehyung’s side. 

[clvmtines]

welcome aboard, clementine martinez, student #2. we are excited to set sail with you !  has anyone told you that you look like alexa demie? according to our records, you hail from florida, usa, prefer she / her pronouns, are a cis woman, and are here to study creative writing. we also see you received a spot on the ss university because of your online lottery win — we won’t tell anyone. during your first few weeks here, other students said you were + charming, + free-spirited, but also - restive. it sounds like you spend most of your time at the billiards room. upon checking your luggage, we noticed you packed a casino chip carried around for luck from home. hopefully your roommates don’t steal it!

hi friends! i’m very excited to be here. i’m jay (est, she/her) n i used to play astrid nyland a few months ago if anyone remembers bt i had to leave for personal reasons. i’m so glad to be back now that i hve life sorted and some free time for summer break <3 read on for some details abt this new muse of mine, clementine. 

01. biography !

so ! clementine was born in florida. & yes, her real name is clementine. her mom thot it was the cutest name idea ever. clementine mostly goes by clem. she comes from the town [redacted] in florida bcoz i am too lazy to look up a specific town <3 but alas ! it was swampy and humid and she lived in a trailer park. 

her parents got knocked up at nineteen. clem was born nine months after a particularly wild 1999 fourth of july. her birthday is march 26th and she’s an aries. 

(TW: addiction, child injury) clem’s dad was a gambling addict and petty criminal—he wld steal credit cards n whatnot. he wld gamble away diaper money n it would cause constant fighting until her dad finally left. her mom took this very hard n began drinking a bit too often, leaving clem to to make cereal for dinner n fend for herself. once clem tried to make hot dogs on the stove and spilled boiling water on herself. got a p bad burn on her arm/shoulder and still has a big scar.

the soundtrack of her childhood was cicadas buzzing and stray dogs barking. the sizzle and pop of natty light cans. turning up her ipod to max volume to drown out the sounds of her mother fighting with her new boyfriend.

throughout her upbringing, clem’s dad was always in and out of the picture. he’d blow into town when he hit it big. he’d take her on these little “adventures” like staying in a motel 6 n renting movies at block buster n ordering good pizza nt the dominos shit she ate with her mom lol. ofc he was charging it all to someone’s stolen credit card. he’d always promise to, like, take clem away. n clem was a daddy’s girl so she believed him. the last time it happened was her h.s. graduation. her mom didn’t show ( "overslept” after a bender ) but her dad did and surprised her n said everything wld be different. bt then he bailed on their plans for the next day n when she called his cell, the number was disconnected. tht was the defining “i’m done” moment. clem promised to never be disappointed by her father again.

(TW: racism) her mother has mexican ancestry and clem’s always been called her twin. but clem was raised in a predominately white area and honestly ?? it was really hard without her even realizing it. she’s still unpacking a lot of things today abt her youth that jst weren’t okay bt she thought were normal. like microaggressions, stereotypes, being fetishized by boys in high school. gross shit.

as a kid, clem was rumored to be really poor bc she wore tattered clothes n got free lunch at school. once she invited a friend to her house & the next day they told everyone it’s in a trailer park. that reputation—the “trailer park girl”—was really hard to shake. and clem got almost desperate to shake it. she was endlessly trying to set her old self on fire and emerge from the ashes like a phoenix.

eventually clem became more “popular”. in school she was, like, a straight b student. very average although super creative and quick-thinking. she always had street smarts. problem solving skills. independence. more of, like, practical intelligence as opposed to book smarts because academia bores her tbh. she was like why am i reading these overrated boring books by dead white men or learning abt polynomials when i know nothing abt how to pay a mortage or do taxes. like...she saw the american education system as bullshit and put in modest effort because she didn’t believe it deserved her sweat and tears. 

however, she entered the online lottery for the seas program on a whim and got in. so she’s studying creative writing now.

02. personality !

first thing you shld know abt clem is that she’s a compulsive liar essentially—she tells various stories to make her life seem better than what it was. to one person, she’s an heiress to a real estate company and grew up wealthy. to the next she was raised by nomadic hippies. some of her lies are small fibs while others are grandiose tales. she rarely talks about her actual upbringing. she hates talking abt her family or the v real trauma of growing up in a household where both parents struggled w/ addiction; the uncertainty, the broken promises, the fact that she had to grow up so soon and deal w/ so much. it wasn’t fair, and if she thinks about it too much, she feels this anger. anger at the universe. anger at her circumstances. she doesn’t know where to put this anger. she doesn’t know how to shrink it. so she avoids it.

despite her rough upbringing, though, clem is actually really sweet and kind. she’s adventurous, fun-loving, free-spirited, and bold. 

bt ! she can also be closed-off, competitive and restive. 

she’s seemingly tight with everyone? like she’s jst that girl who can get along with anyone tbh. 

in her spare time you can catch her tanning by the pool, hanging at the bar, playing pool ( which she learned from her dad ), and socializing. she’ll never say no to hanging out with people. 

she learned a lot from her little “adventures” with her dad, who was very good at conning others and often involved her in his dumb little scams. clem is suuuper good at pulling the ‘im baby 🥺’ card to get what she wants.

she can be a little selfish, because she grew up looking out for herself. 

stubborn and dogmatic as hell !!!

she doesn’t do too many relationships but when she does fall, i imagine she falls hard and fast. she refuses to be made a fool of, tho. when she gets vulnerable she flashes back to being a kid, waiting all day for her dad to show up only to have him bail on her. again. she hates that feeling. so if she, like, senses a shift in someone’s energy she’ll b like, “i’ll break up with u before u can do it to me” and the person wasn’t even tryna dump her lmao.

has a lot of sex. too much ?? sex?? mayb. but she’s v sex positive.

her personal style is v late 90s. hair clips, big scrunchies, neon, fur trim, crop and tube tops, hoop earrings, chokers, patterns, platform shoes, biodegradable glitter cuz it’s good fr the earth *winks*. clothes from o-mighty.......actually jst google o mighty, pull up the images and That is clem. she dresses like a bratz doll. she’s dedicated to the aesthetic.

03. headcanons !

her item brought from home is a hot pink poker chip from a casino. her dad gave it to her. he said it reminded him of her because of the color; he got it during one of his winning streaks and said it was lucky. she has a complicated relationship w/ her dad n doesn’t even speak to him anymore, bt she will never go anywhere without it.

she’s a smol bean—only 5′4

an astrology girl and she reads palms ! she absolutely makes astrology tik toks that people only watch because she’s hot. her flirting technique is to ask you to read your palm.

she doesn’t typically drink to get drunk. but she does love a good sugary cocktail. to her, a drink is like an accessory. a blue fishbowl by the pool, a jack and coke as she stands around a bar. usually she'll nurse the same beverage for a while. if you see her wasted it usually means she’s going thru it emotionally lol. the one thing she does do is drugs tho 

pretty much listens to exclusively female artists.

a bit of an activist. environmentalism, feminism and the like, she’s v outspoken. vegan for ethical reasons (TW: drugs) bt still does cocaine. she wears shirts with ‘my pussy my choice’ bedazzled on the front.

loves to rollerblade ! back home she didn’t have a car so she’d bike or rollerblade. now she still has her blades and she’ll use them when the ship docks. 

03. wanted connections !

Friends, bffs, ride or dies, friends who are like siblings to her, maybe a friend with an unrequited crush on either side ??

an ex she dumped/cheated on/otherwise self sabotaged their relationship because she was afraid of vulnerability.

an ex friend who realized she lies a lot abt herself n felt betrayed. OH ! ESP if they opened up to her on many occasions abt intimate, personal stuff. imagine the betrayal they felt when they found that everything they thought they knew abt clem is a lie.

someone who she actually opens up to. a confidant. or, maybe, like, a stranger she drunkenly spilled her soul to and now she avoids them like the plague.

a rival. clem can be competitive.

her drug dealer 

someone she knows she shouldn’t hook up with and… does it anyways. like a friend’s ex or smthing. spicy <3

i welcome anything !

[veridium]

fake happy

Well, whaddya know! The College AU is back, baby! Unfortunately June was pretty much hell in a handbasket, so writing took a backseat. But, we are far from done. Thank you to everyone for sighting tight, and to @bitchesofostwick for being a very patient co-author. 

So, where were we? Ah, yes, the holiday weekend from hell. On with the show! Title bought to you by a great Paramore song.

masterpost // last chapter

--

“Hey baby cakes!”

The moment she hears the shrill greeting whilst getting out of her car in the sandstone-colored driveway, Olivia knows she’s in a chapter of Dante’s Inferno. All the calmness she had with Ellinor earlier that day is gone; it is easier said than done enduring four days in the house of Paula Sinclair.

“Hey,” she rushes over her shoulder, pulling the side lever to release the trunk where her bags are kept. Just two, one of clothes and toiletries and the other books and supplies to do assignments. She’ll need the preoccupation as an excuse for the gauntlet of trials her Mom will invite her to.

As she’s filing her luggage out onto the driveway, she sees her Mom’s shadow approaching. She glances and sees her in all her glory: an olive green sundress with one of those straw pool hats. She was probably out basking in the sun all afternoon before this. Olivia is surprised she thought to put down whatever spiked beverage she must have had with her to come outside and greet her only child. 

“Did you have a safe drive? You certainly did not rush to get home safe,” Paula says, halting and crossing her arms. 

Olivia slams the trunk closed and huffs, slinging one bag’s strap over her shoulder and the other on her opposite forearm. “I woke up late, and had to help Ellinor pack.” Sorry, Ellinor. 

“Ellinor! I will miss her this year.” A lie said out of convenience. The whole time Ellinor stays with them, Paula shoots her peculiar questions about her personal life or her political views. Ellinor knows better now after these last couple of years how to play them off, but Paula can’t help but size people up. It’s how she cultivates all her complaints.

“I will, too,” Olivia lets out as she makes her way to the front door, past the splendorous potted plants and fake green grass turf. Her Mother saunters behind her through the open door. 

Once inside Olivia notices what’s missing, and sets her smaller bag down. 

“Wh--”

“No no, do not just leave that there! Take it to the mud room or your bedroom.”

Olivia bites back a groan and turns around to face Paula as she shuts and locks the large-ass, gaudy-ass front door. “Fine. Where is Nemo?”

“Nemo?”

“...the dog, Mother.”

“Nemo! Oh, psh,” she waves her acrylics. “He is off in the yard. I kept him outside because the carpet steamers came this morning. You know how his muddy little paws are! Now, do I not get a hug?”

Olivia tenses up from head to toe, seeing her Mother coming in for the hug she didn’t wait for permission for. At least Nemo isn’t mysteriously gone -- she’s read too many horror stories online of people’s parents being complete monsters about their old family pets dying, and not telling the children who live elsewhere -- but Paula keeps Nemo out in the yard for days at a time when she gets the carpets cleaned. He will need company, and not just the husband going out and practicing his golf swing adjacent to him. 

Oh, right, there’s a husband around here.

Paula hugs her with her arms draped over Olivia’s shoulders, rather than around her waist like a good bear hug. Something Dad would know how to do.

“I imagine Fred is off shooting, stuffing, or smoking something,” she mutters over her Mother’s shoulder, to which Paula gently swats at her shoulder and guffaws. 

“No, silly! He’s in the yard with Nemo, your fellow prisoner,” she teases, picking up on Olivia’s dread with her trademark passive aggression. Only three minutes in the door, a new record. 

“I didn’t say he couldn’t do those things out in the yard.” Lord knows he has before. 

“Where do you think our holiday meal comes from every year?” 

“COSTCO, like God and Uncle Sam intended, right?”

“Ugh, Olivia, your humor changes every year you’re at that College. Don’t be so morose.”

She takes a breath and picks up her eyesore of a bag so that it does not further desecrate the sanctity of the foyer, and makes for the curved staircase just across the pristine hardwood. “I’m just tired from the drive, Mom. I’m going to go upstairs and get settled.”

“Okay, and come downstairs soon! I wanna catch up, okay?”

“Yeah, okay!”

She glances behind her but her Mother is already vanished. Sure, catch up, but not too quick! Releasing her bated breath she lurches up the rest of the stairs. The place is heavily renovated from the home it originally was when her parents bought it. In the beginning they didn’t have much -- well, much compared to what Paula has now -- and so their first nest was a fixer upper. Year after year, corny wallpaper became fresh painted walls, and thick upholstered couches handed down from in-laws became brand new installations from the boutiques downtown. Two additions to the place upgraded it from a modest family home to a wannabe mansion. Olivia grew up in this ever-changing little kingdom of improvements, but only when she was a newly-minted adult did she realize she was one of its fixtures.

The one comfort had always been that her Father dwelled there with her. He brought heart and humanity to the kingdom of objects: his muddy shoes by the front door, not the “mud room.” His fishing rods hung up on the garage rack. His barbeque out in the yard. They weren’t all state-of-the-art, but they were his. But, by now, they, too, were all gone. ‘Improvements’ in every stead, including his.  

Olivia had one sacrosanct place left, and that was her childhood room. Walking down the hall decorated with big, framed portraits of the family -- none of her Father, though, to be sure -- she found her door, the second one to the right in the west hallway. “West” being the original upstairs hallway, the only hallway, before construction added the one referred to as the “East.” She pushed the ajar door open and slid in to see it as she remembered: the bright lavender purple walls strewn with posters, pictures, and a tapestry up behind her bed. The pearly purple carpet smelled of the carpet cleaner, but it did not mask the smell of vanilla she expected. On the opposite wall from the door, her princess bed complete with ivory white canopy was freshly made. Her bedspread was white, with pillows in alternating shades of green and lilac. Years ago she fought endlessly for her Mother to let her paint her room a darker color than the baby pink it was first. Thanks to her Dad, they “compromised” with purple. Sadly, Paula took that as “the lightest shades of purple” and so it was.

In the details, though, there was Olivia’s rebellion. The posters, Paramore, My Chemical Romance, and an old one from a Sheryl Crow concert she found on Amazon, contrasted the brightness with a grit. To the left by her small balcony doors, her vanity mirror and stool were covered with polaroid pictures, concert tickets, movie ticket stubs, and bracelets. She had taken all of her incriminating, “immodest” makeup with her to college, so all that remained were an old bottle of sunscreen, some pastel eyeshadow palettes, and lip glosses. So many lip glosses. 

Olivia dropped her shit in the middle of the floor and made for the reading chair in the far corner, where she collapsed into a curled, reticent ball of conflicted emotions. She predicted this -- she dreaded this -- and now, here she is. The first day is always a test of anxiety, more so than enduring mistreatment. Paula is always good on the first day -- great, sometimes. She is generous, and outgoing, and doesn’t sweat the small stuff. The grueling part comes after the first night ends and she realizes she has to do something with her daughter who isn’t just in for dinner and giggling. That’s when she remembers how she actually feels, and who she actually is. And with no one like Ellinor to buffer and provide excuses for her not standing in one place for too long, it’ll be particularly concentrated. 

She slides limply against the plush chair and closes her eyes. It was a stressful drive full of hasty college kids getting home to their more harmonious families. Olivia was in no rush, though. Three trips through various drive thrus surely added time.

Her phone goes off, and she slips her phone out of her back jean pocket. 

Ellinor: You ready to walk the plank yet?

Smirking, Olivia replies: 

-- I am already keeling over the edge. How is your family?

Ellinor: I nearly did a drop and roll out of Lyssa’s car on the way here, but they’re bearable. They are who they usually are. No surprises, this holiday season! 

-- One of these years we’ll be successful enough to buy everyone therapy for Christmas. 

Ellinor: No shit, I’m making them pay for mine first. 

Olivia is replying when another notification comes up, an instagram like this time, from Maryden. Grinning she taps on it. Maryden finally saw the group pic they all took at the fair: her, Ellinor, Cullen, and then Olivia and Cass in the bottom corner. Olivia had made Cass hold the phone due to height advantage. Her grin expands before it sinks fast. 

Ah, fuck. 

She pulls up her messages again and sees the one Cassandra sent her while she was driving and unable to check. 

Cassandra: Text me when you arrive safe. ❤️

The heart emoji. Olivia’s cheeks turn hot, and she hastily types. 

-- Here in purgatory! 

The sound of a man shouting something, and then laughing, rings from the balcony windows. Fred must be huffing and puffing about something amusing, like meat or guns. She can’t wait for all his odd comments and attempts to “relate” that almost always devolve into him talking about whatever season of sport he’s onto and her nodding along. Poor man. He makes sea sponges seem like sophists. 

Soon after sending, Cassandra replies, an opportunity Olivia doesn’t predict: 

Cassandra: Awesome. my Uncle has stopped us for gas, still about 40 minutes out. 

-- That’s good. Hopefully you won’t get stuck in rush hour. 

Cassandra: My Uncle sucks at navigating traffic, so I wouldn’t bet on it. 

-- Lol

Cassandra: You alright? 

Olivia is sort of surprised by the question and its sensitivity, albeit direct. 

-- Just tired from the drive, that’s all 

Cassandra: You love driving. You would drive the entire stretch of the coast highway without blinking once.

Damn, Cassandra. A bold insight. A correct one, too. 

-- 🤷🏼‍♀️

Five seconds after she hits send, Cassandra calls her. She nearly drops the phone on the floor, and her slack posture goes full vertical. She checks that the door is closed, only to decide to leap, rush, and lock it just in case. Then she hurries to the farthest corner of the room and hits answer right on the last ring. 

“No, Detective, I will not submit to the polygraph.”

Cassandra’s voice rings almost playfully. “Very well, we have other ways of making you talk.”

There’s the hot blush again. “Uh, a-alright, who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” She hushes a bit, and hopes Cassandra doesn’t notice. 

“Nothing! My Uncle is in the gas station doing who-knows-what, so I’m stuck in here, boot and all.”

“I’m not kidding, I saw that Liam Neeson movie, I know how this goes. I have a special set of skills--”

“What do I have to do? Express my distaste for something? Quote Plato?”

“...It would be reassuring.”

Cassandra laughs coyly, and despite everything, it livens her spirit. She didn’t expect Cassandra to be in so playful a mood traveling back home. She was cool but unhappy about it that morning when they parted ways, entertained only by Olivia’s presence and a strong cup of coffee. Without the ability to drive due to her ankle, her illustrious but mysterious Uncle had to be the one to pick her up and take her back to her family. 

“I was just calling to check in on you.”

“I thought that was what the texting was for,” Olivia replies more curtly than she intends. She gnaws at her bottom lip.

“Sometimes it is worth the extra effort to call.”

“That is very un-millenial of you, you know. Horrifying.”

“Maybe so. Ugh, what is that man doing?” there’s sounds of Cassandra rustling against the leather seat, probably checking in through the window. “Probably searching for that expensive jerky he gets at Trader Joe’s like it will just magically turn up at an ARCO.”

“Who’s to say it won’t? People of all walks of life can enjoy finer things.”

“Yes, but not just the ‘finer’ things,” she then huffs. “Look, I don’t have much time, so if you aren’t in the mood to talk about what is bothering you, I can let you go and we can talk later.”

“I don’t know if I will be able to. My Mom wants to ‘catch up,’ which in her language means I get a hundred questions and the occasional asinine one from Fred.”

“Fred’s your stepfather, right?”

“He’s...my Mother’s husband.”

“I see.”

She mulls her teeth and looks around aimlessly. Cassandra goes ‘hm’ but nothing else. 

“How are you able to talk so much?” Olivia asks, diverting the subject. “Aren’t you worried your family will pry?”

“The good thing about holidays in my family is there are so many people around, you can get a great deal of private time if you are smart enough. Which is exactly what I intend to do. Ugh...he...oh, sorry. I thought my Uncle was coming back, but it was just another man.”

“Yeah, but you said they have superhuman abilities for nosiness.”

“They do. And I have superhuman talents of evasion. They’ll peck and prod about the ankle boot, though. Usually I can slip away to the gym or for a run to get away from them but...of course...can’t do that. Doctors don’t trust me to set foot in a weight room and it’s been weeks since my injury.”

“Cass, it’s been two weeks, almost precisely.”

“I said weeks, didn’t I? Look, overextending is not the same as knowing my limits. They’re the medical professionals, but they don’t live in this body 24/7.”

Olivia grimaces with sympathy, though she can’t say she agrees given how easy it is for Cassandra to throw herself into things without caution. “Uh huh.”

“Ugh, forgive me. I won’t be able to talk everyday, but I would like to try sometimes, okay? I promise it won’t all be about my messed up ankle.”

Olivia smirks. “You’re being very…”

“Very…what?”

Olivia stalls. Is it an asshole thing to do, saying your girlfriend is being more sensitive and caring than usual? Maybe not “more,” but in a different way. An unusual way. She could have really taken Olivia’s hurt feelings over how she acted about her injury. She could be really trying. But now, in the lion’s den, Olivia’s unsure about whether the timing of it is...well, ideal. 

“Nevermind, I lost my train of thought,” she excuses. “I appreciate you.”

“It’s no trouble. Now, I think my Uncle is coming back. Ugh, he got a whole bag of things...probably for me. Seeing me with my boot triggered his overprotective nerve extra hard.”

“Oh, no, sour patch kids! The torture!” Olivia teases. An ounce of her regular self bleeds through. 

“Very funny. I will text you later. Be safe, alright?”

“Alright. You, too.” She then remembers and slips it in before they hang up: “L-let me know when you get home, too, okay?”

“...O-okay.” There’s a pause, the kind of awkward pause when the thing you say -- the particular thing -- happens. But since they aren’t there yet, it’s full of pause and anxiety. 

“Okay,” Olivia takes her turn to smooth it over. “Bye!”

“Bye.”

Hanging up kills the feeling of safety. She looks into the big oval mirror at her dresser vanity and watches her grin crack, then disappear all-together. The scene in her reflected surroundings loses its luster. Even with all the impossibilities, she kind of wishes Cassandra was with her. It almost makes her laugh at herself: what, would she have driven up with her in the passenger’s seat, hear “hey baby cakes!” and smile, saying “hey Mom, here’s my girlfriend! You’re suddenly not biphobic, right? Oh and by the way she’s a Pentaghast, so, there’s that!” and they all retire to the sitting room for tea and introductions. Right. 

She turns and sees her unpacked bags, her only company. She rubs her forehead slowly with the back of her hand. She has experience being left to her own devices with her Mother. Hell, she has a lifetime of it with her. A long weekend won’t be anything particularly gruesome, and if it is, well, she’s survived them before.  

Fifteen minutes later she has everything organized and put away -- she won’t unpack much, anyway. A quick change into some leggings and a t-shirt, a toss of her hair into a ponytail, and she’s ready to face the music. She’s careful to shut her bedroom door before she descends down the hall and the stairs, betting that her Mother is out in the yard on one of the lounge chairs. She finds her there, indeed lounging, with that missing cocktail restored to her.

Unmoved but always observant, her Mother inquires: “Settled in?” 

Olivia puts on her best polite grin and sits down on the lounge chair five feet away. On the grass, Fred is dressed in pastel blue polo and cargo shorts like the overgrown fraternity pledge he is, throwing a frisbee for Nemo. Nemo, the 10 year old yellow lab, who can scarcely go up the stairs without being winded these days. Too bad for Fred the minute Olivia shows herself, the grey-faced dog bounds in his own way over to the long last playmate.

“Nemo! You little prince!” she smiles, crouching down to embrace him. His tail is wagging a million miles per hour, and he fills her face with old dog breath. His tickling gets her to finally laugh. 

“Good grief,” she hears her Mom say, “Olivia, don’t let him lick your mouth!”

“I’m fine!” she says through her giggles, rubbing his chest and back as she stands upright. “It won’t kill me.”

“Ugh.”

That joy was short lived. She returns to the chair she chose and does her best to make as little eye contact as possible as she sits and sprawls her legs out. Nemo follows circles around her, tail still going.

“Do we know what the plans are for Thanksgiving?” Olivia asks, expecting the same answer as always. Dinner at home with Fred’s relatives and those in Mom’s family who she isn’t on the outs with, all above the age of 35 for the most part, and vote like it. Another dinner she’ll have to dress way too modestly and matronly for her age in order to fit in for the group photo.

“Well, that is what I wanted to surprise you with,” Paula answers. 

Olivia side-eyes her Mom, and delays opening up her phone to scroll through Twitter. “What?”

“We will be having dinner with the family as always, but earlier this week we received a surprise invitation for us to attend a holiday party later on this weekend.”

“You aren’t going to spend the holiday campaigning, are you?” 

“‘Campaigning’ has a broad definition, Olivia, and it is never a bad idea to become more familiar with one’s community constituents.”

Olivia frowns and resumes scrolling. Great, likely another fundraiser or gala, not something substantially humble like volunteering time with those genuinely in need, who are also her “constituents.” She saved the label for those she could depend on to write a donation check -- the other 80% of society barely existed. 

“I assume then you are expecting me to go?”

There’s a sound of Paula’s magazine of choice turning a page. “What do you think the surprise was?”

“That as much as you would like me to come, that you respect my choice not to so that I can have a quiet, restful weekend at home before Finals are in full swing?”

No response for going out on that limb. The proverbial crickets chirp, and Olivia knows her point was deliberately missed. 

“Or,” she corrects herself, “that you want me to go.”

“Yes, silly girl. And for your information, even if I didn’t want you to come, the invitation specifically noted you.”

“P-pardon me?” She looks up.

Paula shakes her head and smiles. “When were you going to tell me you were making friends with the Pentaghast family?”

“I...I-I’m not!”

“You must be, there was a handwritten note in the card, your name and all.”

Olivia can feel a stroke coming on. The heat of the day now feels like a vise around her throat, a semi-truck on her chest. She jerks up and turns to look at her Mother dead on, who is still flipping through her latest issue of Vogue, sunglasses and sunhat and all. 

“So...so they wrote me in? Me, specifically?”

“Yes, that is what I said! Goodness, calm down, you’ll give yourself a heat stroke.” 

Too late. “Why? Aren’t they one of the big blue families? Why would they want to invite y--”

“Are you insinuating that I do not belong in a bipartisan space? Olivia, I work in one for a living. This whole business of networking is par for the course. In fact, it is a long time coming. The Pentaghasts should be taking the ‘other side’ more seriously. I have been in this town’s political realm for seven years, now. They cannot always hide behind their old money and liberal hypocrisy of “inclusion.””

There is that rhetorical savvy and venom. Quintessentially Paula. Olivia falls back on the lounge chair and stares out into the lawn, mouth open and words lost. Where to begin? Hey, Mom, don’t think so highly of yourself, they’re only inviting you to get to me! Because they want to sniff me out as one of their many daughters’ lovers! You’re full of shit!

“Do I have to go? I am serious about wanting rest. This semester has been a lot, an--”

“A semester that I paid for,” Paula cut in, turning yet another page. “It is restful to be with your family. You should consider yourself lucky, Olivia, that spending time with us is so comfortable. You have this nice home to come back to, and good people to spend time with, and beautiful parties to go to. A girl your age in a lesser position would claw someone’s eyes out for the chance to live the life you get to. Is it so really so demanding?”

The shots to the gut have started early. So much for the easy first day. She wishes even more she could pop her Mother’s balloon, but it would mean ultimate disaster for her in the end. Out in the open Fred is still trying to get Nemo to chase the damn frisbee, clearly aware that he should stay away from the two debating blondes. Olivia rolls her lips shut and tries her hardest to swallow the hunk of pride at the back of her throat, but there’s no room in her stomach. It’s completely filled to the top with anxiety about what it means to be going to this party. 

Then it hits her: Cassandra is going to shoot through the roof. 

“Fine, Mom. I’ll go.” The clock then starts ticking for her to find a covert way out of it beforehand. She’s dove deep into her head, and only catches half of her Mother’s pleased response. 

“--something classy, the party is black tie optional.”

“Okay.”

“I also have an appointment for us to get our nails done tomorrow at 11, so do not sleep in too much.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. She does another fake smile as she pulls up her messages on her phone in order to deploy the distress signal: 

-- Change of plan, I need you to call me as soon as you are able. Your family sent an invitation to mine for their big party this weekend. My Mom is insisting we go. Code red. 

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 23 of 83 : World of Sea

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 23 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Chapter 6: A Problem of Ship’s Business

Kurin sat in the shade of her small toy booth, as she had for every Gathering market since Cat had gone back to the sea with her mate, Dark Iren.  The wind fluttered the dagged edge of her awning, making the embroidered birds and fish seem to fly and swim.  In front of her were toy fishing boats and small sailing boats that would actually work.  There were also soft flexible Strong Skin fish and Glue Fish, Wing Rays, lobsters and crabs.  All the creatures were fashioned out of a modified form of glue and the Strong Skin scraping dust left over from boat building. Behind her, on prominent display, was a large model of the Longin under full sail, with all sails and rigging neatly done.   As usual, there was a knot of children and a few adults in front of her booth, and trade was brisk.

Quietly, the crowd parted.  Approaching her booth were the woman and man that she had seen come from the Dark Dragon and the Soaring Bird.  They stopped in front of her booth and seated themselves cross-legged, regarding her curiously.  The woman’s big scabbards were no longer empty.  The odd looking one on her right leg held an ax like none that Kurin had ever seen before.

“Are you not Kurin Behar Longin of the Naral fleet?” asked the Captain of the Dark Dragon, tilting her red-brown head curiously.  Her lively green eyes had taken in the toys on the board and she was studying them intently.

“I am.  May I get you something?” asked Kurin.  “I can send for food and water, if you wish it.”

The two Captains regarded each other a moment.  “That would be appreciated.  It is well past noon, and we have not yet had a chance to get food.  You are most courteous.”  The woman gestured towards herself, “Allow me to introduce us.  I am Captain Sula Corin Dark Dragon of Winternight, guest of the Corlis fleet and this is the Honored Captain Huld Barsan Soaring Bird of the Barant fleet.  We have come from the other side of the world to get news of a ship and crew favored by the presence of a Great Sea Dragon.  Every one that we speak to, says this or that and then adds speak to Kurin.  She knew the Dragon best.  So, we have come to speak to you.”

Just then, a large red haired man jostled Captain Sula aside and started to point at one of Kurin’s toys with a long knife with large jagged teeth down the cutting edge.  Kurin knew the style of weapon and thought little of it.  A show-off’s toy, prone to breakage.  “Give me that one,” he demanded.  “I know someone who wants it.”

“Mister Kotance,” she said sharply, “I would like you to meet Captain Sula Corin Dark Dragon.”  Meanwhile, Sula and Huld had risen to their feet.

Kotance turned to Captain Huld and said, “Sir, my apologies for bumping into your wife.”

Sula took Kotance’s knife hand, the front of his shirt and stamped across his instep as she pulled the startled Kotance from his feet. As he hit the raft face first, she wrapped his knife hand around behind him and pushed up, her knee in the middle of his back.  She wasn’t even breathing hard as she said, “I am Captain Sula.  Drop the knife or I break your arm.”

Kotance made an abortive attempt to break free of her hold then dropped the knife as Sula began to press his arm against the joint.  She immediately released him and stepped back, ready.

Sula smiled the coldest smile that Kurin had ever seen as she said, “You have interrupted the business of Captains.  Please put away your toy and leave us.”

Kotance, scowling and rubbing a sore shoulder, put the knife into its scabbard and left.

“I’m sorry about that,” said Kurin. “Just a moment while I get someone to watch the booth for me, then we can talk — — Hey! Roper!  Will you watch my booth for a bit?  I’ll give you lunch and a toy off the board.”

The boy that she called to came up and slid into place behind the counter.  “Done.  Can I get the lunch right away?  I’m starving.”

Laughing, Kurin went with the Captains to Marad’s food booth.  He and some apprentices were preparing fresh shellfish and other delicacies on the spot.  “Hi, Marad.  Would you send some water, a pair of fish cakes, a slice of crab cake and some redweed salad to Roper?  He’s watching my booth.”

“Sure, Dragon-hair.  What will you have?” he answered, turning to adjust the reflector of one of the solar heaters used for steaming and boiling crab, lobster and shrimp.  It was made of large, highly reflective, side-jumper scales, glued to a backing of Strong Skin.

“The same for me.  What will you have, Captain Sula, Captain Huld?” she asked turning to them.

She saw Captain Mord and Alor discussing the morning’s Council session at a nearby table.  She overheard Alor saying heatedly, “If the Captains can’t even make it illegal, we Pursers will have to do something!  It’s costing hundreds of Skins a Gathering!”  Kurin made a note to ask about it later.  For now she had another fish on her line.

They took their lunches and Sula and Huld led the way to the Council Pavilion.  Seating themselves in its shade, they began to eat.  

Sula asked, “What did your cook mean, calling you Dragon-hair?”

Kurin pulled her sea-foam white hair over her shoulder.  “This, Captain Sula.  It was my parting gift from Cat — — that is Blind Mecat. My hair used to be almost black.  It reminds me of her because now it’s the same color as hers was.”

“I see,” said Huld, writing in a blank book made of supple paperfish parchment.  “Know her how did you come to?”

“She was always a part of the Longin, as far back as my memory goes, Captain Huld.  We didn’t know that she was a Great Sea Dragon until the end.  The Longin picked her up from the open sea as an infant, drifting in a tiny boat, about twenty four Gatherings ago.  She was made the foster daughter of Alor, our Captain’s mother, who is also the Longin’s Purser.  About six and a half Gatherings ago, my father died, and my mother went mad from grief.  I was too filled with my own heartache even to cry.  

“Cat took care of me like a Wide Wing with a chick and helped me to get over it.  While she was at it, without trying to, she taught me that I could do anything.  Because of that teaching, I’m not an apprentice boat-builder anymore.  I’m a full journeyman and consequently a legal adult.  I also work in the rope-walk, the weaving shop, the net shop, the galley, and the Captain is teaching me how to navigate with instruments and arithmetic.

“Cat just did anything that needed doing anywhere on the ship.  She worked up in the rigging, and in every shop.  She fished and dove for shells.  Whatever she did, she showed me or shared with me.  She always had time for me.”

“Position in crew she had what?  Did she so much?” asked Huld with great interest.

“Oh, she wasn’t in the crew, Captain Huld.  Her name kept her out.  They were afraid of bad luck from her name, so they never gave her a position in the crew.”

“This Honored one, would find honor more if Huld you call him,” he said with a small bow.

“As always, Honored one, you lead me in courtesy.”  Turning to Kurin Sula added, “Please, call me Sula.”

“Name Cat unlucky how was?” asked Huld, critically inspecting his bone pen point

“It was short for Mecat.  Her name goes back to how the Longin found her. A storm blew the Longin off course, way north, to the Dragon Sea. There, they found a little boat,” Kurin gestured with her hands, about three feet apart, “with a baby in it.  On the boat, someone had written Mecat.  She told me that she always hoped that whoever wrote it there was asking the Dragon to look after her instead of wishing her ill.

“Everyone knows that it is bad luck to name someone with a Great Sea Dragon’s name, but fleet Law and naming Custom left no choice.  With no mother name first, and no father’s clan name second, all that was left to her was a ship name, and that was Mecat, the Dragon’s name. She contrived to make me feel sorry for her, with her crippled name.  That was the start of my healing.”

Just then, a few young deck-hands from the Fauline came up, raucously, they called, “Hey, White-hair!  Teach us to feel the bottom, too! Do you feel it with your own arse?  Do the crabs pinch?  I’ll bet that’s how you know where they are!”  One of them felt the other’s bottom and gave a pinch, in imitation of a crab.  They were near doubled over with laughter at their witticisms.

Without getting up, or seeming even to look, Sula reached up behind her and grabbed the shirt of the ringleader.  Before he could brace himself, he was slammed to the deck in front of her, on his back, stunned. She leaned over him, speaking venomously,  “You are rude.  You interrupt the talk of Captains.  If this were my command, I would hang you over the side of the Dark Dragon and feed you to a hungry Strong Skin, feet first.  Now, your name, your ship and your Captain!”

“Thelo, deck-hand of the Fauline, Captain Skua,” he replied in shock, struggling to get his wind back.

“You will be reported, Thelo,” Sula said grimly.  Effortlessly she picked him up as she rose to her feet.  She threw him into his cronies, knocking them down like nine-pins.

Kurin was startled at this display of skill and raw strength, though nowhere near as much as the young ruffians who were picking themselves up off the deck, and scrambling away.  What they said penetrated through her surprise.  Looking worried, she excused herself, “Sula, Huld, I must find my Captain.  Someone has been spreading Ship’s Business where it should not be.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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[thewarriorandtheking]

A Long Goodbye

The Warrior Queen: The Warrior and The King: Book II

Chapter 7. A Long Goodbye

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

Thorin and Kaylea spent many idyllic days in Lothlorien. It was hard to say exactly how long they stayed, since time passed so differently in that fair land. It was summer now and the days were pleasant and warm. They took many walks in the woods, rode the horses past the borders where Hector would join them in the foothills of the mountains. Some days they just stayed near their pavillion, eating too much or sparring with their weapons on the lawn. This always seemed to bring a few Elves out to watch. Kaylea would usually invite them to join, and Thorin very much enjoyed using some of the moves Kaylea had taught him, it was rare he did not win a match. There were many of the Fair Folk who lived in Caras Galadhon, the place had a sort of hum about it, the sound of many soft voices and singing was often heard in the evening, but they rarely seemed to come to the ground. Occasionally when they were walking an Elf would hail Kaylea and they would exchange pleasantries, they were always polite to Thorin though they seemed to think of him as a kind of novelty.

Thorin received a letter from Fili with the news that he had a new son. He felt his heart leap with joy, impatient to see the boy, though his wife would not be back in Erebor for many months yet. He looked over at Kaylea, mending the bridle of her horse at the other end of the table, he found himself idly wishing it was her son. But he also had a hard time picturing her as a mother, there was so much steel in her. His son was one of the chief joys in his life, the one thing he did not regret about his marriage.

Kaylea felt his eyes on her. “What news from Erebor, my king?”

“I have another son,” Thorin said. Kaylea looked up at him.

“Congratulations! That is very good news,” she said. Thorin looked at her, his eyes narrowing.

“If I may ask, did you lose your ability to bear children through some injury?”

Kaylea shook her head. “No, I was designed that way…” she paused, shaking her head “I mean I was born that way.” She put down her task and looked at him. “And you can ask me anything, you know that.”

Thorin grinned. “You just refuse to answer most of the time,” he said. “Alright, how old are you?”

Kaylea met his gaze. “I am almost 3000 years old, my king.”

Thorin’s eyebrows shot up. “Are all your people so long-lived?”

“No, most Dorsai live about twice the span of years as Dwarves. There are a very few of us who are much longer lived. Undying, like the Fair Folk.” Kaylea got up and came to sit next to him. “I hope it does not change your opinion of me to find out I am as old as an Elf.”

Thorin smiled, squeezing her hand. “No, I expected you were very much older than you look.” He reached over to brush her hair back from her face. “And in all that time, you have never been married?”

“I have not, though I have been in love three other times,” Kaylea took a long breath, remembering. “Twice to ordinary men who are gone now, once to one of the specials like me. But I have never loved anyone the way I love you, my king. You quite swept me off my feet the first time I set eyes on you. That has never happened to me before.” She ran her fingers down one of his braids. “And what about you? How many times have you been in love?”

Thorin chuckled. “When I was younger, I fell in love a few times,” he said. “Though I never wanted to marry anyone until I met you.” Thorin smiled slyly at her. “If you have not been married, how can you say you will never be? How do you know until you have tried it? You did say I could ask you anything.”

Kaylea laughed. “You are incorrigible!”

“Thank you, my love,” Thorin replied.

 Two mornings later Thorin awoke in the grey before dawn to find himself alone in bed. He looked around and saw Kaylea, dressed in her underclothes sitting in one of the soft chairs. She had a grave, thoughtful look on her face, her mind was far away. Thorin felt his heart sink “You are leaving.”

Kaylea looked over at him and nodded. “War has broken out on the southern borders of my country. It was not unexpected, perhaps I should have stayed but I had a chance to come here and see you, I could not pass that up.”

Thorin had pulled on his undergarments and came to kneel beside her. He saw her slip a flat piece of metal into her saddlebag. He took her hands in his. “I am so glad you came,” he said. “I wish your journey had not been marred by that wound.”

Kaylea shook her head. “There are a hundred ways to die every day, to die in battle in defense of something you believe in is a good death.” She looked at Thorin. “I am happy I got to spend so much time with the man I love.” She reached over to touch his face, Thorin put a hand over hers.

“When must you leave?”

Kaylea considered for a moment. “By noon tomorrow. I must send word to Celeborn and Galadriel and let them know, I have not yet spoken with them.”

“Can I ride to the coast with you?” Thorin asked, he knew what she would say but he had to ask.

“You should ride to Erebor to see your son,” Kaylea said gravely. “Not prolong the inevitable.”

“It is true my heart does very much desire to see him, even as it is breaking to part from you,” Thorin said heavily. “You must promise to return to me, my love.”

“I will return,” Kaylea said gravely, meeting his eyes. “You have my word.”

Kaylea and Thorin spent the day making sure everything was ready to leave. Bags were packed, the horses groomed and tack repaired. Kaylea had sent word to the Lord and Lady but had heard nothing from them. That evening, after dinner they were sitting in their pavilion enjoying some of Kaylea’s Dorsai liquor when Thorin looked up and saw the Lady Galadriel approaching. It was almost full dark but she seemed to glow with soft silver light, her white dress shining in the moonlight. As she came closer Kaylea stepped outside and bent her knee, bowing her head. Thorin stood beside her and bowed low. The Lady looked from one to the other of them with a smile, then without speaking she beckoned them to follow her. They followed her to the slopes of Caras Galadhrim and down a long flight of stairs to a small enclosed garden. Here she stopped and bade Kaylea tell her all she had discovered in Mordor. As Kaylea told the tale she stopped her often to ask questions. They spoke also of the palantir, Kaylea said she would take it with her as such a thing should not remain in Lothlorien. As they were talking Thorin looked around the grassy green hollow. It was treeless and open to the starry sky, the little stream from the fountain in front of their pavilion ran through the lawn, in the center was a pedestal carved like a tree and topped with a wide, shallow silver basin. Thorin looked at the two women and suddenly realized that Kaylea looked very similar to the Lady of Lorien. The shape of her face, her mouth, the color of her hair. They were such different personalities Thorin had not noticed it until he saw them together. He smiled to himself, yet another mystery about Kaylea Wolf for him to ponder. After Lady Galadriel was satisfied she had heard all Kaylea had to tell she shook her head sadly.

“These are grave tidings, but it is as we expected. This matter of the palantirs does concern me greatly, but it is good to know for certain we have many years yet to prepare,” she said. Then she turned to Thorin. “Thorin, son of Thrain, you came here with such a heavy heart, and burdened with so many questions. Before you leave this land I may be able to ease your mind a little.” She stood beside the silver basin and, dipping a silver ewer into the stream, filled it with water. Then she breathed upon the water and when it was still, she turned back to the king. “This is the Mirror of Galadriel. Will you look upon it?”

“What will I see, my lady?” Thorin asked. He looked around for Kaylea but she was just passing through the hedge, leaving him alone with the Elf Lord.

“The Mirror reveals many things. Things from the past, from the present and things that may happen in the future,” Galadriel smiled at him. “I can command it to reveal the answer to a question you want answered, or if you leave it free to work you may see other more profitable things.”

“I will look,” Thorin said. “There is one question in my mind I very much want answered, but I will let your Mirror choose.”

He approached the water, first all he saw was reflected stars then the water seemed to cloud and change. He saw a great battle, orcs and Men and Dwarves. He realized it was the Battle of the Five Armies, he saw the great white orc that had wounded him taken down by Beorn. The scene shifted and he saw a baby, smiling and happy, his new son! He saw his wife carrying him in her arms, walking down a corridor in Erebor, talking softly to him. When the scene shifted again he saw a huge city of white stone climbing up the side of a mountain, a great battle had been fought before it, the field strewn with corpses. The view moved to the side and Thorin saw a group of hard looking fighters dressed in the same black clothes as Kaylea always wore riding past him away from the city on black horses. The Mirror became cloudy for a moment then Thorin felt himself standing in the Woodland Realm, he turned to see King Thranduil, the Elven King was angry, he was speaking but Thorin could not hear the words. He saw the king gesture towards him and he suddenly felt like he was falling, the Mirror turned to stars again. Then there was a quick succession of images: a group of robed figures with long weapons on their backs walking in an endless red desert, a table surrounded by dark haired Men, holding glasses up as in a toast, a great city made of crystal, a large cat with oddly-shaped ears looking curiously at him, a white wolf running into battle beside him against a horde of orcs. Then Thorin felt himself standing on a grassy meadow, a mountain behind him falling steeply to the sea. The scene seemed familiar but he knew he had never been there. The sun was shining, he was formally dressed and felt his heart overflowing with happiness. He felt someone behind him, knew it was Kaylea. He almost felt her slip her arms around him, he put his hands on hers and turned his head to feel her kiss on his cheek, see her smile. She was wearing an ice-blue dress, her hair elaborately braided. In the vision he looked down at her hands in his, then he saw it. Kaylea was wearing the ring he had given her, but on her left hand and with it the matching wedding band he had made. And on his hand the ring he had made for himself to match it. He gasped involuntarily.

“Do not disturb the water!” He heard Galadriel warn, but his sharp exhale had caused a ripple and the mirror showed only stars again. He turned quickly to look at her.  

“Does this Mirror show the truth?”

Galadriel nodded. “The future is never quite set, but many things the Mirror shows do come to pass.” She smiled at him. “It was that particularly I wished to show you, as I know it weighs on your heart. I also want to tell you, I cannot see the end of your life. It is strange, it seems to me at one time there was an end, and now there is not. You will live longer than even Durin the Deathless, and I believe you have many interesting adventures in store for you, though what form they will take a cannot say. I wish you good luck and good fortune, King Under the Mountain.”

Thorin bowed low to the Lady Galadriel. “Thank you, Lady Galadriel, for allowing me this look in your Mirror, your kind words and all that you have done. If this is to be my future, I know it would not be possible without the aid you gave to Kaylea Wolf when we came here. May there be goodwill between our peoples in the future!”

The Lady inclined her head in agreement, but did not speak. Thorin could see the audience was at an end and took his leave, his heart as light as a feather as he climbed the stairs. He remembered suddenly where he had seen that meadow with the mountain behind it, the portrait Kaylea had given him. She had been standing in the same spot. He wondered at the other things he had seen, and what they could mean. The sight of Thranduil irritated him, why would he be talking to him? He found Kaylea waiting for him, standing outside the pavilion. He rushed to her, eager to tell her what he had seen, but she put a finger on his lips to silence him.

“What you saw was for you alone. Do not speak of it.”

Thorin was astonished. “Surely I can tell you!”

Kaylea shook her head. “If you tell me something you saw in a possible future you risk a change in that future.” She smiled at his disappointment. “That was the parting gift of the Lady Galadriel to you, it is not a thing she often allows. I can see it was good news, that is enough for me.”

 The next morning Kaylea and Thorin rode out of Caras Galadhon. They would have two more nights together on the road and part ways at the southern end of Mirkwood, Kaylea heading south and Thorin north to Erebor. It was a beautiful summer day, warm with a slight breeze blowing from the south. It was cool and pleasant under the tall trees, the horses ready to travel again, sleek and rested after the trials of their previous journey. They camped along the Anduin the first night, outside the borders of Lorien. Hector joined them and caught several fat trout for dinner, pulling them out of the river and flipping them up on the bank for Kaylea to clean. After dinner Kaylea sat leaning against Thorin watching the fire burn down. They had not talked much during the evening, just enjoyed being in each other’s company. Kaylea relaxed into Thorin’s strong arms, laying her head back on his chest wishing she could stretch this moment out forever. She still wondered what it was about this man that just felt so right, it was like nothing she had ever experienced before. As the stars started to come out she looked for Dorsai, as she always did. In Middle Earth it was in the north sky, in the constellation the Elves named after Luthien Tinuviel.

“Do Dwarves have names for the constellations in the sky?” She asked.

“Of course,” Thorin replied. They spent the evening comparing Dwarvish and Elvish names for the stars until it was quite late, they did not get to sleep until it was well past midnight.

 The second night from Lorien they camped under the trees at the south end of Mirkwood. The skies were threatening rain and this part of the forest was much less threatening than the dark center. It did rain lightly for a few hours, causing Thorin and Kaylea to get off to a late start the next day, which neither minded. As they were drying the bedroll in the morning enjoying the pink sunrise and some Dorsai coffee, Kaylea and Thorin sat side by side, leaning on each other.

“Ah, I almost forgot!” Kaylea exclaimed. She reached into her coat and drew out a small fabric pouch and handed it to Thorin. “A gift for your sons, I found them when we were packing the other night.” Thorin shook the pouch out in his hand, two small silver pendants. A stylized hammer and a spear. “These are an old Dorsai tradition, they are the talismans of our old gods. The spear is for the chief of our gods, god of wisdom and war. The hammer is his son, god of strength and thunder, strongest and greatest fighter among the gods. They are given to newborns to protect them and to ensure they grow to be great warriors. I am glad I brought two.” What she did not say is the pendants contained slow-release concentrations of antivirals and antibiotics, Thorin’s children would be well protected from illness for their first ten years.

Thorin nodded gratefully, turning the pendants over in his hand wondering at the silver. “Thank you. I still wish they were our children, but that was not to be.”

 Thorin and Kaylea came to the road where they would part ways at mid-morning. They stopped in the shade of some tall trees beside the road to say their goodbyes, kissing each other for a long time. Every time one of them would pull back, the other would pull them close again, not wanting the moment to end. At length they stood, foreheads pressed together.

“You take care, my love,” Thorin said. “Do not get yourself killed in this war.”

“I will come back to you, my king,” Kaylea said. They kissed each other again, knowing it would be the last time for many years. Thorin felt such emptiness in his heart, but this time there was also hope. Kaylea had left and returned once, now he knew for certain she would return to him again. And there was the future Galadriel had shown him, his heart raced whenever he thought of it. They parted and mounted their horses, heading in opposite directions. Hector gave Thorin a long stare and he felt a sudden feeling of gratitude; the wolf must be thanking him for helping Kaylea. Thorin nodded to him, thinking he was actually going to miss the big animal. Then he turned his horse north, urging her into a canter. He had travelled some distance when he felt he just had to look back and reined his horse in. As he brought his horse’s head around he saw Kaylea also stopped on the road. They looked at each other for a long moment before turning their horses to follow their separate paths.

END OF PART I

Next: Part II, where Thorin learns where Kaylea Wolf really comes from. Now that he is free to make her his Queen, will the discovery change his mind? 

[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [12/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.

Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro. Jason and Isabel Ardila were in a brief relationship.

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Isabel’s place has a lived-in feel that Jason is not very familiar with.

Willis and Catherine’s tiny apartment is a distant memory for him, and the handful of foster homes that followed don’t even rate. Wayne Manor, while once home, was never exactly what one might call “homey”; and the less said about his time in the League, the better.

As for his network of safe-houses, these are meant more for function and convenience than to encourage long-term comfortable living.

Very different from the room illuminated when Jason flicks on the lights.

Warm, inviting colors grace the walls, somehow blending well with living room furniture meant more for comfort than to match. In the kitchen, dishes dry on the rack because there’s no dishwasher, while a vacuum cleaner lies forgotten in the hallway. There’s no evidence of a maid or English butler the way Tim’s place has; like Jason, Isabel was uncomfortable with being waited on.

Half of her kitchen table is buried beneath a sea of papers, piles of junk mail, receipts and a newspaper or two.

It’s second nature for Jason to go through the detritus, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s looking for. When he doesn’t find it, he slips into the kitchen, rifling through cupboards and drawers. Lots of people will stash small, important property in their kitchen, banking on would-be-intruders focusing on the obvious takes like televisions and computers. Since Jason isn’t in a hurry, he has the luxury of searching through everything himself.

Apparently Isabel wasn’t worried about theft since he finds nothing; frowning, he glances over to the fridge for potential clues. Magnets from what appears to be every country she’s ever visited hold up notes against the chrome façade, along with pictures and business cards and—

Jason reaches out before he’s aware of it, tracing his finger across the edge of the black and white printout that holds the prominent place of center. The sonogram picture is different from the one’s he saw on cases before he died, or even the kind he sees on television. It’s not simply a grainy outline of a vaguely baby shape, but a 3D image that details the features of the infant he held in his arms just last night.

He reaches out to take it off the fridge, then thinks better of it and backs away.

Not like I need to keep anything like that, I’ve seen the actual baby already.

He wanders over to the kitchen counter, sifts through more paper. There’s an actual physical day planner there that’s seen better days, pages ripped and bent and some stuck together. He pockets that, intending to go through it later; it might hold information about her friends and contacts.

Speaking of…

He studies the walls and surfaces of the unit, noting the sea of personal trinkets and photos of Isabel. Most of them are of her and a bunch of other, usually against the backdrop of a beach or bar lounge. Some of them include herself and Safiya—he recognizes one of the photos as having been taken on the edge of Robinson Park, in the area that’s still safe and Poison Ivy free.

In all of them, she looks happy, which calms that lingering part of him that’s worried his presence in her life had any kind of lasting trauma. Either she is—was—the most well-adjusted person ever, or she had a Wayne level of ability to pretend.

Studying the rest of her belongings along the bookshelves and coffee tables, something strikes him; in addition to the usual paperback bestsellers and gossip rags he would expect from someone of Isabel’s age and interests, there are baby books tucked everywhere.

From parenting How-To guides, to early readers that are still in pristine, sometimes packaged condition. There are fairy tales and Spanish alphabet books and board books with various textures cut in the pages.

Like someone was gearing up to become Supermom.

Which she was, wasn’t she?

Numbly, he wanders down the hall, glancing briefly into the master bedroom before his eyes are drawn to the second room. It feels like the bottom of his stomach has dropped out as he looks at the door, and the pretty, swirling pink script stenciled across it. Letters set between colorful flowers and balloons.

Luisa.

Tentative, he nudges the door fully open and wanders into what is clearly a nursery. There’s a crib set up, with a mobile of stars and planets, a changing table, rocking chair—quite a few of the mysterious objects he spied sitting in a pile on Tim’s living room floor.

All of which speaks of a woman who very much wanted the baby currently residing in the Gotham General neonatal wing.

Jason sits down heavily on the rocking chair, barely hearing it creak beneath him as his thoughts play on repeat.

She wanted this.

But she didn’t tell him.

Obviously she didn’t want him involved.

But then why list him as the father?

Why make him her emergency contact, instead of her friend? It seems like an awfully calculated, purposeful move for someone that didn’t want him in her child’s life.

He gazes blearily around the nursery, eyes flitting past the typical soft and fuzzy and mostly pink stuffed animals and blankets. Everything in here was chosen with care as if picked directly from a catalog, and with intent.

Except for one thing.

Jason stands, reaches for something on top of a chest of drawers just beside a baby monitor.

The Red Hood plush toy is a ridiculous caricature, with a bulbous head and stubby arms. Toy companies have been making merchandise off the world’s heroes since time immemorial, but he didn’t realize that plushies were a thing.

Let alone that there’d be a version of me included in the line.

His thumbs slide across the tiny stylized red bat on its chest; there are fabric holsters but no guns, of course.

It’s the only item that seems out of place in the entire room.

Obviously placed here on purpose.

But wouldn’t that mean…?

Mind reeling, Jason returns to the living room, more determined now to figure out Isabel’s frame of mind. To know the thoughts behind her decisions. There’s a folder among the medical stuff, with information relevant to her pregnancy—medical history, prescriptions—but nothing written in her hand.

Which isn’t surprising. Who keeps a journal these days when everything’s online?

That has him searching out her computer, which is set up in the corner of the living room on a tiny desk. He boots it up and studies the keyboard to see which keys are more faded than others.

Before he can make much headway guessing her lock-password, there’s a bang that has Jason whirling around. His instinct is to reach for his gun, but being mindful of his location thinks better of it.

Just as well, considering who the intruder is.

“What do you think you’re doing here?!” Safiya demands from the doorway of the apartment. She’s holding an aluminum baseball bat and wearing a fierce expression. “This is not your apartment! I will call the police if you don’t—” She cuts off when she recognizes Jason. “You.”

“Hi,” he says, somewhat bemused.

She doesn’t relax, narrowing her eyes at him; they are puffy and bloodshot, and he suspects she’s been crying since leaving him and Tim at the hospital.

“How did you get in here?” she demands at last, suspicious but somehow bypassing the usual questions he'd expect. “I have only set of keys.”

She brandishes the keychain in hand as though to make a point.

The utter lack of surprise or fear catches him off-guard; Jason falters for a minute thinking of a plausible lie to tell. And then he decides he doesn’t have the energy.

“I picked the lock on the window,” he tells her.

Safiya’s eyes narrow. “They teach you that sort of thing in bodyguard school?”

Nice lie, Drake. Obviously she didn’t buy it.

“Can’t all be taking bullets for the president.”

“Right…” Safiya lowers the bat, but only incrementally. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to…see for myself,” he finishes lamely, still not entirely sure how to answer the question.

“I understand.” This time the fight goes completely out of her. She steps into the apartment, glancing around furtively, and then closes the door behind her as she comes inside. “You might have mentioned earlier you wanted to come. I could have given you the keys.”

“Wasn’t really thinking about it back then,” he tells her, watching her set down the bat. “You’re pretty intimidating for someone so small.”

“This is Gotham,” she retorts. “It would be stupid to be anything less than vigilant whether you have cause to fear or not.”

“And you don’t have cause to fear?”

“When one has a guaranteed death hanging over one’s head, there is very little to fear.”

Jason thinks of his time as Robin, of the danger and the close calls, and of his life now; the certainty of it ending in blood and fire and another goddamn plaque in the Cave.

He gets it. More than she knows.

“Fair,” he acknowledges. He pauses, a bit awkward, and asks, “How are you holding up?”

“As well as can be expected,” she sighs, looking around the room. “It does not seem real.”

“You’re telling me,” Jason says, though it comes out as more of a sigh. He feels the tension in his shoulders, which have been pulled tight since Safiya first made her appearance, ease. “Have you had a chance to reach out to anyone?”

“Not yet. I’ve been…processing.”

“If you need help…” he begins, uncertain about what exactly he’s offering to do here.

“You have other things to worry about,” she replies with a shake of her head.

No kidding.

He recalls his conversation with Tim about the fate of the baby, and before he can think better of it, blurts out, “Do you know anything about her last boyfriend?”

Safiya gives him a sharp look. “Why? Are you going to try to convince him the baby is his?”

There’s judgment there, not entirely unwarranted maybe.

“No. But maybe he and Isabel have—had mutual friends. People who might…”

Take the baby.

He doesn’t need to say it out loud, she clearly follows his thought process. This time there’s no judgment, surprisingly.

“His name was Jonathan,” she recalls. “Sutter, I think.” Jason makes a note of that. “He’s an accountant for one of the big firms downtown.”

 “Accountant, huh?”

Guess she wanted someone the exact opposite of me the next time around…

“Yes. They met at the hospital the last time the Joker escaped,” Safiya explains. “He was being treated for that horrible gas, and Isabel was…”

She trails off, considering him carefully.

“Recovering from the bastard shooting her up with heroin,” Jason says darkly. “Yeah, I was caught up in that myself. Not a night I want to revisit.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Safiya says dryly. “Anyhow, they went on a few casual lunch dates and she said it might be getting serious, and then I didn’t hear from her for a week. I’m guessing that’s when she was with you. And then two weeks after that, they were together.”

“How serious was it?”

“Serious enough, I think. She was happy.” She pauses here, lower lip trembling and inhales deeply through her nose. Jason recognizes the look of someone trying to stave off tears. “Then it was over and she was alone. Shortly after she told me about the baby, and…well, you. Sort of.”

Jason swallows, not even able to imagine what Isabel might have said about him. There’s a long silence between them, both of their thoughts clearly on the woman whose presence is so pervasive in this room.

Safiya sniffs.

“Listen,” she says at last. “I can see you want to do right by Luisa. I don’t know what Isabel’s reasons were for not telling you. But I don’t think it’s because you would harm a child. As long as you’re acting as guardian to Luisa, I will make you the same offer I made her mother: I will help you as much as I am able. Just call me and I’ll do my best to be there.” She offers Jason a wan smile. “You are not alone in this.”

“So I’ve been hearing,” he replies heavily. “Still working on the believing.”

There’s a trilling noise and Safiya reaches for her pocket for her phone, sliding her thumb across the screen to silence it.

“Speaking of believing,” she says. “I have to leave for prayers now. If you were anyone else, I’d worry you intended to steal and sell her belongings but given who your partner is…I doubt you’re hurting for money.”

Jason snorts. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“I’m also assuming you can let yourself out of here the same way you got in,” she continues. “So I won’t offer you my keys. Unless you intend to take over plant-watering duties?”

“Uh, no. I’m the opposite of a green thumb.”

He doesn’t mention that he’s never taken care of a plant on his own, let alone a child. Probably she won’t appreciate that kind of gallows humor.

“Alright then. I will see you around, I guess.” She pauses in the doorway. “Although, the next time you come by, at least send a text message or something so I don’t accidentally knock you out.”

And with that, she’s gone.

Jason shakes his head, mouth quirked upward in grim amusement. Knowing his luck, and his frame of mind, she’d actually manage it.

He doesn’t move immediately upon finding himself alone again, feeling rather like the interlude with Safiya has broken through some of the mounting, breathless panic he had been feeling before.

His eyes catch upon the fridge again, and the sonogram picture there, and he physically shakes himself.

Get back to work.

The computer in the corner is open on the login screen, and he goes to sit down, setting to work decrypting her password.

It doesn’t take very long—she’s not the kind of person to use something obvious like ‘password’, but a lot of civilians don’t bother with the randomly generated string of numbers, letters and symbols. It takes about fifteen minutes for him to happen upon the word based on faded keys—a mashup of her parent’s names and some numbers he supposes holds significance to her—and he’s into her system.

It’s a job he’s had to do uncountable times in his life, scanning through private files and documents of murder victims or suspects. It’s always had a kind of morbid quality to it before, but he’s feeling that even more now.

He knew this person.

He knows if she was here—if she was still alive—she would not be happy with such an invasion of her privacy.

But she’s not here, is she. That’s the whole problem.

He swallows, flipping through the digital folders; when nothing jumps out at him immediately, he decides to come back to it and instead opens her email program.

It’s mostly a list of weekly work schedules and the requisite spam from subscriber lists, but then he notices there’s a single file in the Drafts folder that curiosity has him clicking a moment later.

[Draft] rentabat@waynet.com (no subject)

The last date it was modified is the day she died. He clicks on it, eyes immediately flying to the first word—Jason—before stopping, breath catching. Because while this is exactly what he’s been trying to find since he got here, it’s also exactly what he didn’t want to find.

Dreading what he’s about to discover, he takes a breath and braces himself to read the whole thing.

Jason—

I don’t know if you even use email or not, but I saw this on that ridiculous Rent-a-Bat sign the last time I was in California and figured I’d try. I’d call your cell, but I might screw up saying what I need to over the phone. Assuming you even pick up for me.

At least this way, I might work up the nerve to press send.

I’m pregnant. About seven months now—

He pauses, glancing again at the time of the email, because Isabel had been nine months pregnant when she died, which means she started this email months ago but never got around to sending it.

Never got around to, or never worked up the courage.

Just like Safiya said.

He goes back to reading.

—About seven months now.

It’s a girl, and she’s yours based on the dates the doctors gave me. I wasn’t with anyone but you, unless Kori’s people can get a person pregnant by just touching them.

(The baby’s perfectly human by the way, according to the tests.)

I didn’t find out until weeks after we ended things, or I would have told you when we last spoke on the phone. After that, I didn’t know how to tell you. About the baby or the fact, I’ve decided to keep her.

I was scared. For a lot of reasons that I’m sure you understand. I was worried you’d try to talk me out of this, and then I worried if anyone were to find out, they might try to use us against you. It’s already happened once; it can happen again.

There are rumors all over Gotham that the Joker’s dead, but they’ve said that before. It’s dangerous here, so much so that I’ve thought about leaving the city with her and starting over. Except, it’s hard enough to do this Mom thing by yourself in the only place that’s ever been home, let alone up and move somewhere you’ve got absolutely nothing.

And to be honest, I’ve never been the type to run away from something.

Which is why I’m embarrassed it’s taken me so long to get in touch with you.

I’m not sure if I’ve been more worried that you’d want nothing to do with me or her, or the opposite. That you’ll do the decent thing and give up everything you do—all the important stuff, saving innocent people and fighting aliens and taking out the worst criminals—just to be here. Because that’s the type of person you are. You’re hard because you have to be but inside, you’re a good man and you’ve got a code. On that front, I can’t think of a better man to have a child with.

But I also get that you might not want to or be able to be that person. And I understand all of that. I would never ask you to change your entire life because of this. You have a purpose and resources and plans I can barely imagine, but I think in some ways I’m a lot freer than you are.

I’m lucky here, I have a friend to help me out in the first weeks, and my job has an excellent daycare program for when I’m off maternity leave. I have a support system and we will be alright on our own if you decide you can’t or don’t want to be a part of this.

But I hope you’ll want to.

I want her to meet you, whether it’s now or years from now. A kid has a right to know her family. I lost mine too young, and you said you did too. I don’t want that for our daughter.

I’ve decided to call her Luisa, after my mother. I haven’t chosen a middle name yet, in case you want some input on that, but otherwise I’ll

The email cuts off abruptly there, and he finds himself wondering what interrupted her, even though he can guess the reason. His brain is still struggling to compute her final words to him.

There’s a lot to unpack, but the most startling thing is that Isabel wanted him to know.

She not only wanted this baby, but she wanted Jason to be in her life.

In their lives, more to the point.

Stunned, he leans back in the chair and stares unseeing at the computer screen as he tries to sort out how he feels about all this.

He doesn’t notice that hours have passed until the hospital contacts him hours later.

⁂⁂⁂

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Next Chapter

[orionlakehastodie]

The Lion And The Evenstar

She was here. 

Brienne the Beauty they called her. 

Why she had to come to his rock he knew very well. 

Mother knows of him and Cersei. 

And she thinks she can change her mind by giving him a girl. But there was no one like Cersei. No one more fair, no one more beautiful, no one more like him. 

He was touched by the Warrior and she of the Maiden, everyone knew. And he knew it too. They were always meant to be. 

He waited on the docks because he wanted to be sure, wanted to show his mother see, you cannot sway me, my heart belongs to Cersei. 

And soon enough it comes, with it’s sails of crescent moons and suns. Tarth. 

His maester says her island was called the Sapphire Isle, because the waters were as blue as that of Sapphires. 

His mother has a Sapphire necklace, and he’d always like the way the light plays with the deep blues of it. He supposes it would be nice. 

The seas in Casterly Rock were not blue, they were more of a pale green. He would like to ask her what it was like to have seas so blue, and if the light sparkles in them like the way it sparkles in his mother’s necklace. Just that. He just wanted to know, and he shall never speak to this new girl ever again. 

Soon enough they lower the sails, and lower the gang plank and one by one they alight, foot soldiers and ship men carrying the crest of Tarth, and then a huge lumbering man, taller than his father, armored in rose gold and the blue that his house was known for, and beside him holding tightly to his hand was a girl - though no one would accuse her of being little. 

He knew she was younger than he, a girl of six to his eleven, but she was almost his size. She bore no beauty in her face, not like Cersei, she had a huge nose, and too thick lips and freckles peppered her skin, and her blonde hair lay limp and lank around a too wide face. 

Her bones too big for someone so young. 

And maybe she could feel him watching her, and her eyes veered swiftly to him, and her eyes met his and even across this distance, even across this space, he saw the blue of sapphires in her eyes, and believed that there were no waters more magnificent than the Sapphire Isle. 

---

She expected no one to want to befriend her. Her septa has said it, she had a face only a mother could love and her mother was dead. 

That’s why Father left her hear, with a Lannister of the Rock instead of at Storm’s End because the Baratheon’s were all boys, and had no mother, and here was Lady Joanna and Lady Cersei, and her father was good friends with Lord Tywin. 

But she hated Lady Cersei, the way her pretty face turned ugly and foul when she created a very ugly embroidery, the way she would pinch at her and poke her with her needles. 

If this is what it meant to be a lady she did not like it one bit. 

She loved Lady Joanna, however. She loved that she let her play with the baby in her belly, and she smelled of lavender and she tucked her into sleep. 

But t’was not a lady she wanted to be. She wanted to be a knight, like Ser Duncan, who everyone says she had the look of and it was just her misfortune to have been born a woman instead of a man, otherwise she’d be better than Jaime Lannister in sword. 

So one day, she escaped the Septa, and went to the training grounds where he was, golden and gleaming. 

He never spoke to her, not during dinner, not during the shared lessons. The only time he ever looked at her was when she first arrived and he was on the docks. As pretty as the Warrior in her picture book. With his gleaming golden hair and his eyes that showed his every emotion, his eyes that were the color of the sea in the Rock. 

He moved well, and fluidly with a sword as if he and the blade were one and the same. He was better than Galladon was. And much faster. 

 And when he disarmed his opponent and no one stepped forward to challenge him, she marched toward the ground and picked up the sword that he had disarmed. 

“I challenge you.”

Her voice was loud and clear and it betrayed the fear she felt inside. She only tried sword fighting once, with a stable boy back in Tarth, after Galladon died and before her father shipped her off to be a lady. 

Jaime took one look at her grubby face, her dirty dress that she tore while climbing down the tower. 

“How did you get here you little wench?”

“I have a name, and my name is Brienne. I escaped my Septa and climbed down a tower.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed. The ladies’ study was at the highest point of the tower. 

“Are you mad, you could have hurt yourself.”

Despite himself his mother raised him as a lord and knight and honor compelled him to check his little guest for injuries. 

“I’m fine.” She pushed him away, though five years younger, she had strength in her arms. 

“I want to fight.”

He sneered at her and the lads around him snickered as well. His sword master was engaged in a talk with his father, and he looked around and made sure they were otherwise occupied. 

This would be a chance to tease the little chit. 

“Go on then, pick up the sword.”

She lifted it up and he eyed her stance, she had the basics of it right, clearly she had been watching. 

He circled around her but she kept her eyes on him, tracking his move. 

He expected to disarm her and push her with one move but he was pleasantly surprised when her arm raised up to parry his attack, the tourney swords clanging loudly. 

She had strength in her, but she looked the kind to have it. 

He stepped back and twisted his sword, securing a firmer grip on it. He lunged and she blocked and spun to attack. 

If he wasn’t bigger she would have slashed him down the belly. 

His eyes narrowed. She knows how to fight. 

Testing her he increased the speed on his attacks, and she blocked them all successfully. 

She wasn’t a good attacker, she wasn’t quite as fast as he was, but she had strength and stamina. 

He parried away her lunge and pointed his sword at her neck, only to feel the edge of hers against his gut.

“Yield.”

He said. And she merely grinned. Her cheeks were flush from battle, her wispy hair escaped from it’s braid and her eyes danced in the sunlight.

“You may take my head off, but you will have a more miserable death. T’is you who should yield.”

“I-”

“Jaime!”

His frantic mother’s voice came from the top of the rise where the meelee ground was concealed from, her skirts bundled in her hands as she rushed down to him.

“Jaime what have you done! Brienne, sweetheart, are your hurt?”

The smile vanished from her face and she looked down at her shoes. 

“Why did you climb down that tower Brienne?”

His mother checked her for wounds, lifting her skirts to look at her knees and he looks away, flushing, to the roots of his hair. In his engrossment in their fight, he did not notice that she hitched her dress up to free her legs for movement. 

“What is going on in here?”

Tywin came out with the sword master and took a look at Joanna frantically checking over every inch of Brienne, noted the sword in her hand, the disarray in her hair and turned steely eyes to his son. 

“Explain.”

“She’s good father.”

Brienne lifted her face from her feet and looked up at Jaime. 

“She’s really good. Better than half the men in this court.”

There where whispers and jeers but he ignored it. 

“She’s good. She’ll show you. Won’t you little we- Lady Brienne.”

He caught himself before his mother twisted his ears and saying nothing she nodded, and raised her sword again. 

“Tywin but this is absurd! She’s only six-”

“I can fight m’lady. My brother... my late brother taught me how.”

“Step aside Joanna.”

Tywin kept steel eyes as he watched his son duel the heir of Tarth, and satisfied at what he saw, halted the meelee. 

“My lady, your father has sent you here to learn the ways of court. Of how to be a lady. Your septa however tells me you will never be one.”

She frowns again, and tears pool in her eyes and Jaime steps in front of her, his hands tightening on his tourney sword. “Father-”

“Your Lord Father intends for you to inherit Tarth. If that is so, you will not need be a lady. You need to be a warrior. Master Bracken, fit the Lady of Tarth with her armors and leathers. She will begin her training tomorrow, as the sparring partner of the Heir of Casterly Rock.”

“Tywin! She’s only a girl. Just a girl.”

Joanna hugged Brienne close, and she felt warm and comforted.

“She is not just a girl. She will be Evenstar of Tarth, and that is no small duty. Jaime, lend Lady Brienne some of your clothes. She will find it easier to move in them. However, you will continue to learn the ways of court, and learn from Lady Joanna, and your Septa. It is what your father would have wanted.”

Tywin bows and walks away from them, and Joanna follows him in haste. 

He feels a hand enclose around his, and her hand was rough but warm. 

“Thank you.”

Her big blue eyes looked up at him in wonder and adoration and he finds himself smiling back and squeezing her hand. 

“Come along little wench, let’s get you in breeches.”

Her brow furrows and what do you know she can be quite adorable. 

“My name is Brienne.”

“Very well. Lady Brienne. Let’s get you some clothes.”

TBC

[felicismagic18873]

Beyond the Blaze (1)

Summary: 4 Years old, Alyssa Potter finds her life taking a magical turn as she steps into a world of cute green giants, talking robots and misunderstood aliens. All of it is almost enough to make her forget the probable destruction of her own world.

Word Count: 3.3k

On the corner of a street in Silvercost, Surrey stood a charming two-story house. The lush green garden of the house was the envy of the whole neighborhood. 

Now, the first thing a person peeking into the house, as many of the neighbors did, would notice was the family picture hanging over the fireplace. The lady of the house, Petunia Dursley,  had insisted on the place since it showed just how lovely her family was. 

The picture itself was most peculiar with a collection of people that did not seem to belong together but were anyways. On the right side stood the man of the family, a fat man with little neck and a small proud smile on his face, he was the sort of man whose day would not be complete without bragging about one thing or another.

The thin lady next to him had her lips pressed together as if trying to hold back a thousand insults. Her long neck and small eyes being the most prominent features. 

And then there were the kids; the boy and the girl.

The boy was fat like his father. The beady eyes he got from his mother were squinting as he gave a huge grin showing off his teeth. His one hand was gripping his mother’s hand and the other was in his pocket, patting the 5 dollars she had given him to stay still.

But out of all of them, it was the little girl made the picture beautiful. She stood in front of the man, dressed in a simple red frock, black hair framing her face as sea-green eyes shone reflecting a smile. If one looked closely, a scar could be seen on her forehead peeking through her jet black bangs. Even though very peculiar, the picture made them feel like a perfect family. 

A loving mother, a doting father with their two innocent kids. The reality, however, was.....complicated. 

---------------------------------

A strong gust of wind rushed through, rustling the leaves. A soft laugh filled the backyard of Dursley's household as a raven-haired child raised up a hand and pushed the flowing hair away from her face. She then picked up her small watering can again and went around watering the flowers. She nodded with a small smile at the blooming roses.

It took a lot of time but the roses had replaced the buds under her loving care after all no one else bothered to water them. The girl shivered a bit as the wind turned colder and nipped at her uncovered shoulders.

"Melina", The child whispered with recognition and slowly her face became radiant with happiness. She put down the can quickly and her eyes wandered in all directions trying to spot her friend in the small backyard. 

After several minutes of looking she sighed with defeat. She was about to go back to work when she was scooped up from behind. A small shriek escaped her lips."Put me down Mel, Put me down!" 

A bubbly laugh rang around as her friend spun her around before settling her on her feet. Turning around she hugged her guardian around her waist causing her to laugh. 

An angelic face framed by golden-white hair looked at her with a gentle smile lingering on the lips. Alyssa Potter couldn't help but look at her star-struck. Alyssa thought that Melina was the most beautiful person she had ever seen. She liked her friend more than any of her toys. Melina was way prettier than Barbies anyway and Alyssa loved it when she laughed and looked at her with her rainbow eyes. 

Sometimes she wondered how someone could have eyes like that!! Even her eyes had only one color in them. 

Melina sat down on the soft grass and pulled the little girl on her lap. Alyssa let out a happy sigh before snuggling up in her arms, looking up at her. She wondered if Melina knew what she had been thinking. Melina's soft voice filled with love chased away the thoughts of loneliness that had occupied her mind all day.

Even though Alyssa was a happy girl sometimes, when she stayed up all night dreaming about green lights and monsters, she just needed someone to hold her and tell her everything was fine. No monster was coming for her. Her aunt never accepted the role, never wanted it, so Mel was the one that made the loneliness and darkness go away.

Melina had been there for her as long as she remembered. Her sweet voice had spoken to her softly when she got sick. She had been there with her when Alyssa fell and broke her arm. Alyssa remembered how the nice blue-eyed nurse had been shocked that she had healed so well and so soon. 

Melina had always been in Alyssa's life and had filled her life and mind with the stories of a world that seemed too magical to exist. Sometimes Mel seemed like the Lady that Alyssa often saw in her dreams, the green-eyed lady with bouncy dark red hair and sparkly eyes.

"So what has my favorite child been up to?" Melina asked running her fingers through Alyssa's hair after she finished her fantastic story of a dragon called…em, something horntail.

''I am not a child anymore Mel, I am four!" she held up four fingers. She crossed her arms over her chest, she had seen her Aunt do it many times to emphasize her point.

Melina's melodious laughter echoed in the clearing that they were sitting in. "I know my love but for me, you'll always be my child" She smiled and kissed her forehead as Alyssa tried not to pout. 

She ended up pouting anyways "Not fair, Mel! I wanna be a big girl, not a baby."

Melina caressed her cheek "And you are a big girl, I promise. It's just my love for you that makes me say so." 

Alyssa thought for a while then nodded her head. It made sense. People loved their children more than anyone. She knew even her Aunt loved Dudley very much because he was her child. And since Melina always said she loved her most of all she didn't mind being a child.

"Now it's time to go," Melina said in a soft tone, running a hand in her hair again. Alyssa tried to protest, she knew that while Melina was with her no one could find her. Even the neighbors couldn't see them! 

"But-" 

"Your Aunt is looking for you, dear child.”

 "Oh,” it seemed like it was time for the other chores already. Alyssa climbed down from her lap and stood there, waiting. As usual, Melina blew her a kiss and just like that she disappeared. 

Alyssa reached out a hand catching the imaginary kiss before putting that hand on her heart. Sometimes she thought that doing that trapped the love in her heart since whenever she thought about the little-blown kisses, it made her heart feel happy and warm.

Alyssa ran back to the house and crept in from the back door; it made her feel mysterious like one of the sorcerers that Melina told her about. Melina seemed to think that a lot of the people she told Alyssa about were her children. Silly Mel, She was too young to have so many children. Mums with so many children were old and Melina had to be an old grandma to have so many of them.

Alyssa grinned thinking of her odd friend before putting a hand on the table and jumping up to sit on the tall kitchen chair by the kitchen counter. She pulled a bottle of water and picked it up with both of her hands. Then with unusually steady hands, she poured the water in a cup. No ice, since ice-cold water was forbidden because Dudley got a sore throat last month.

She hoped Dudley would ask for cold water soon as she gulped down the warm liquid.

"There you are" 

Alyssa's absent smile faded on hearing her Aunt's voice behind her. She jumped down from the tall chair and turned around after landing on her feet.Aunt Petunia is doing the thing again, Alyssa observed with a tilt of her head, the thing being her Aunt trying to look stern by pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes.Alyssa thought it just made her look funny.

She looked away after the first glance, looking at the design on her Aunts skirt instead. Her Aunt didn't like it when she looked into her eyes, something about being respectable. But Alyssa knew her Aunt didn't like her at all; She didn't know why but thought it wise to never ask.

"Dudley is away on a play date."

No further detail was required or provided. Alyssa just nodded, her hair bouncing up and down in the ponytail that Mel did for her and moved away from her, climbing the stairs to go to Dudley's room.

How could Dudley be so dirty? Alyssa wondered with surprise. She had cleaned his room just this morning. Well, she was used to it anyway since cleaning Dudley's room was the part of her chores along with the dusting of the house.

Opening the room, Alyssa wrinkled her nose. She was glad that she only had to do the dusting and put all the toys and things in the right place. The leftover food and the play slime smeared on the carpet made her sick as it was.

And so Alyssa started cleaning and putting Dudley's toys on the shelves where they belonged, his clothes in the laundry basket and his guns in the toy chest.

"Oh dear" Alyssa whispered looking at the jar in the chest that stared back at her, it was filled with money. She shook her head and put the toy she had next to it.

Now she knew who had been stealing from Aunt and Uncle.Poor Miss Marry, their maid, had been fired because of Dudley. She thought about telling on him but she knew that in the end Aunt Petunia would deny everything and she will be the one getting in trouble.

When the room looked relatively clean, Alyssa took one of the books from the untouched book cabinet and made her way to her room.

--------------------

Alyssa sat on her bed with a happy bounce, she caressed the cover of the book in her hand. She was so glad that she taught herself to read from the books Aunt Petunia bought for Dudley so that 'Her little munchkin will turn into a genius'. 

Melina was very proud of her accomplishment and had even given her a gift! Plus it gave her something to do in her free time.

"Someone's been eating my porridge," She growled acting out the story she had read enough times to memorize.She grabbed the book and turned towards the painting on her wall.

"Someone's been eating my porridge and they ate it all up!" She cried in her 'baby bear' voice, imagining the wolf, stag, and dog on the wall were looking at her instead of the moon. 

She didn't really understand the painting Mel had gifted her but she loved it regardless of the fact.

"Someone's been sitting in my chair,"* Alyssa growled again before a giggle escaped her breaking the act.

So in a little room of a large house, the happy chatter of a small girl filled the air. And in a large castle beyond which eye can see, a foreboding atmosphere filled the air.

--------------------

The next morning was pretty normal, Uncle Vernon as usual left for work early. Aunt Petunia left for tea at a friend's house taking Dudley with her and Alyssa was left alone.

Alyssa woke up by 6:00 am and made her bed. Then she as usual cleaned herself up and dressed. After that, she made her breakfast: Some veggies and fruits along with some milk and bread.

'' A Sailor went to sea sea sea

To see what he could see see see

But all that he could see see see

Was the bottom of the deep blue sea sea sea *" She sang as she dusted. She didn't really mind being alone. She could sing as loud as she wanted and dance in the living room. Something she wouldn't dare to do when her Aunt was at home. 

"Ah what beautiful voice my child has," Melina said as she picked up Alyssa and hugged her close.

"Mel" Alyssa squealed as she cuddled her. Melina always carried this...feeling around her. It made her feel happy and calm.

 "Let's go sit in the garden hmm?"

She nodded into Melina's shoulder, she was done with her chores anyways.

Sitting in the garden Alyssa put her head on Melina's lap and read one of Dudley's storybooks as Melina combed her hair with a golden comb that Alyssa was sure she didn't have before. 

Melina seemed sad today but she couldn't tell why and it made her uncomfortable and confused. Melina should be happy right? They got to meet twice a week whereas usually they only got to meet once every two weeks or if there was an emergency.

"Melina, why are you sad?" She finally put down her book and looked up to see if maybe she could tell what was wrong by looking at her. 

As Melina smiled at her down at her with sorrow filled eyes somehow Alyssa had a feeling that something was really wrong and her friend was going to be in the middle of it. 

That day as she caught the kiss in her hand, it felt like a goodbye longer than usual.

--------------------

Vernon was working in his study when Alyssa made her unexpected entry. He glanced up before reading over the contract for his new property again. He didn't start the conversation. She would speak when she was ready. He hoped that she was here to talk about whatever was wrong with her; she had been acting weird lately.

''Uncle, can I ask you something?'' she asked shyly, her voice low. The only answer she got was a little hum as he signed on the contract before pulling another file towards him.''Can I...Can you please get me some more books?"

Vernon stopped his work and looked at her curiously. 'Books? For what? They haven't even started school yet'  He wondered about her somehow. His niece was..different to say the least. Not different in the bad way they had expected but different. 

If the unusually bright green eyes didn't make her stand out, her attitude did. She just made people love her. And that worked quite well for Vernon. Vernon Dursley may not like the forbidden wicked arts but he did believe in luck and fate. And it was his belief in luck that made him take in the girl, which turned out to be quite fortuitous. 

The girl,Alyssa bought them luck. 

His father always did say that some people bought luck into your life. Just like he did in his father's life. So when he got a promotion on the day she arrived and a deal that was on standstill a week after she arrived he accepted her for the blessing she was. 

Plus all of his partners were charmed by her and if he was honest with himself, he was too. So he decided to deal with this request as nicely as he could.

 He thought over his words before putting down his pen and looking at her, "You'll get books when you go to school, Alyssa. I do not think it is worth all the trouble, do you?'' He ran a hand over his balding head.

Alyssa's shoulders slumped, she was already expecting this. Her Aunt would throw the biggest tantrum if she found out that her Uncle was buying her books when Dudley didn't even know A B C.Her Uncle was not an angel but he was loads better than Aunt Petunia and Aunt Petunia didn't like it when he bought her something that he didn't for Dudley. They had learned that lesson when he had bought Alyssa some colors for her birthday and she had fumed for days.

During one of her Aunt and Uncle's fight, Alyssa had discovered that when she was a baby her Aunt wanted her to live in the cupboard under the stairs but her Uncle convinced her otherwise. Her Aunt would never let her have something her cousin could not have. 

Vernon grumbled looking her upset face ''There is a library about 10 blocks away but you would have to walk there whenever you want to read, your aunt will never let me walk you. I will tell Petunia to let you go so you don't bother her at home. I might have to add some chores to your list though.''

"Oh, thank you so much, Uncle!" Alyssa gave a bright smile before running out of the room. Jumping on the bed, she hugged her pillow with a grin. That night she slept imagining all the books she would be able to read at the library.

The next day saw a cute little girl walking down the street with her wavy hair bouncing as she made her way towards the library. She had made her way out of her house as soon as her chores completed.

A normal person would have walked the 10 blocks in 10 minutes. Alyssa was little so it took her twice the time. She had to cross the road many times and make sure she didn't get squished by the big people. She wondered if one day she would be as big as them. 

The library door was huge and wooden so she had to put all her weight to it to open it. She almost stumbled when it opened. She walked up the stairs leading to the desk making sure not to slip on the tiles. There was an old lady sitting behind it reading a book.

''Excuse me, Ma'am? Where can I find children's books?"

The lady looked down and adjusted her glasses.''In that room, dear", she pointed towards a room with brightly colored tables and chairs.

'Thank you'' Alyssa gave her a smile and walked towards the room leaving behind a smiling lady. Alyssa spent the next two hours reading books after books and getting lost in the world of imagination.

"Of course, there must be lots of Magic in the world, but people don't know what it is like or how to make it. Perhaps the beginning is just to say nice things are going to happen until you make them happen."* She looked around her room thoughtfully. 

The book she had borrowed from the library resting on her lap. Maybe...maybe she could do it too?...Like Matilda or..or like the people Melina told her about. 

Maybe.

She jumped down from her bed and wore her slippers. It was time to do some experiments, she thought with an eager smile.

--------------------

"Go up, Please.",Alyssa requested the leaf with a smile. "I won't tell anyone, you can move now." Her eyes squinted with concentration. Her eyes flew open when she heard a soft giggle behind her.

"Do I want to know what you are attempting to do, Dear Heart?"

"Melinaa!" She turned around to hug her only for her arms to pass through her. "Wha- Mel why can't I hug you?"

Melina ran a hand over her arm. Alyssa stepped away, it tickled. 

"It is complicated, my dear...Why don't you tell me about what you were trying to do?"

Alyssa dropped her question suitably distracted, "I was trying to make the leaf fly! Like Matilda!" She threw her hands up to stress her point. 

Melina laughed softly, "Come here. Now if you want the leaf to fly you..."

Alyssa sat on the ground, her eyes fixated on her friend as she taught her how to use the gift she was born with.

--------------------

"There must be something we could do!"

"Though it pains me to say it, Its not our decision to make" 

"Not our deci...You should know I won't back down easily." Her eyes blazed as she disappeared."I wouldn't expect anything less, Melina."

--------------------

* 'A Sailor went to sea' is a nursery rhyme.

* The story Alyssa acts out is 'The Story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears'

* The lines are from 'The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett'.

[thelastspeecher]

MerStan-at-Home

Day 01   Day 02   Day 03   Day 04   Day 05   Day 06   Day 07   Day 08 Day 09   Day 10   Day 11   Day 12   Day 13   Day 14   Day 15   Day 16 Day 17   Day 18   Day 19   Day 20   Day 21   Day 22   Day 23   Day 24 Day 25   Day 26   Day 27   Day 28   Day 29   Day 30

Since today was very stressful (found out I had to go back to Wisconsin a day earlier than planned, my car was involved in an accident where no one was hurt but my car, and I drove three hours, most of it in the dark), I didn’t do one of my prompts for NaNoWriMo, but rather cleaned up and finished a scene I wrote ages ago.  It’s a cross between the MerGucket AU and the Stay-at-Home Stan AU, and, in my humble opinion, it’s great.

Word count: 1651

              “Come on, Sixer, breathe.”  Two large hands pressed down on Ford’s chest.  Ford sat upright, coughing up water.  Spots danced in front of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath.  “About damn time.”  Ford looked over.

              “…Am I hallucinating?” Ford asked after a moment.

              “I’m not a figment of your imagination, if that’s what you’re askin’,” Stan answered.  He and Ford were on a deserted beach, a few feet from the pale blue water.  Ford’s clothes were soaked through, while Stan, clad in only pants, seemed completely dry.

              “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt, then?”

              “Wha- I feel like that’s pretty good support for me not being a hallucination.”

              “Fair enough,” Ford mumbled.  He shook his head.  “I don’t understand anything going on right now.”

              “Sounds like we’re in the same boat, then,” Stan said.  He crossed his arms and frowned at Ford.  “Why the hell did you try to drown yourself?”  Ford’s blood ran cold.

              “You saw.”

              “Yeah.  I did. What’s going on, Sixer?” Stan asked quietly.  Ford’s brow furrowed.

              “How did you see?”

              “Hmm?”

              “I was on a boat in the middle of the ocean.  How did you see that?” Ford asked.  Stan cleared his throat.

              “Answer my question first.”

              “Answer mine.”

              “Stanford,” Stan said flatly.

              “Stanley,” Ford said in the same tone.  Ford and Stan stared at each other silently for a moment.  A small smile fought its way onto Stan’s face.  

              “Heh.  You’re just as much a stubborn ass as you were…shit, seven, eight years ago?”  Stan shook his head.  “That can’t be right.”

              “No, it is.  It has been quite some time.”

              “So, why were you trying to drown yourself?” Stan asked.  

              “It’s complicated,” Ford mumbled.  “I thought I could trust someone, turned out I couldn’t, so I decided to go somewhere he couldn’t follow me.”

              “The bottom of the ocean.”

              “Exactly.”

              “Ford-”

              “Hey, Stan?” a voice shouted.  Ford turned his head.  A man he didn’t recognize was walking toward them.  Like Stan, he was shirtless, only wearing cargo shorts.

              “What’s goin’ on, Lute?” Stan called back.  The man stopped a few feet from Ford, eyeing him with blatant curiosity.

              “Angie wanted to tell ya she had to go out to work.  So ya should come grab Molly ‘fore then.”

              “On it.”  Stan stood up.  Ford sighed.

              “It was nice seeing you again, I suppose,” Ford said quietly.  

              “No, Ford, you’re comin’ with,” Stan said.  Lute cleared his throat.

              “Uh, ya sure ‘bout that?” Lute asked.  

              “Yes.”

              “But he’s-”

              “We can trust him,” Stan said firmly.  Lute let out a small huff.

              “Whatever.  It’s yer head if’n he proves otherwise.”

              “He’s my twin brother,” Stan said.  Lute raised an eyebrow.

              “The same one what turned his back on ya when ya got kicked out?  Don’t sound very trustworthy to me.”

              “Lute.  You don’t know him like I do.”

              “All right, all right,” Lute said, putting his hands up.  “I’ll tell Angie yer goin’ to come grab lil Miss Molly.”

              “We’re on our way,” Stan said.  He looked at Ford.  “Comin’?”

              “I don’t understand anything that is going on,” Ford said.  

              “Just trust me, Sixer.  You’re gonna wanna come.”

----- 

              Stan came to a stop in front of a large cliff.

              “Okay, just stay out here,” Stan said.  “I’m gonna get Molly.”

              “Who is Molly?  Please explain what’s going on,” Ford said.  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.

              “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.  I’ll have to show you.  Hang tight. I’ll be right back.”  Stan brushed aside a large branch, exposing a hole in the cliff.  Ford started forward.  “No, Ford. Wait here.”  Stan ducked into the hole.  Ford sighed and turned to face the ocean.  After about five minutes had passed, a head poked above the waves. Ford’s eyes widened.  

              Is there a woman out there? The woman caught sight of him, cocked her head curiously, then dove back underwater with a flick of a bright yellow tail.  A mermaid!  What a day for merfolk!  First there was that red male I saw earlier, now a yellow female.  Ford took the journal out of his pocket.  I’m glad I thought to write on waterproof pages.  He flipped the book open to the page with his notes on the male earlier. Before he could write anything, someone behind him cleared a throat.  Ford turned around.  Stan grinned at him.

              “All right, you wanted to know who Molly is?  Here.”  Stan nodded at the thing resting in his arms.  Ford frowned.  

              “Is- is that a mermaid?” Ford asked quietly.  Stan nodded, beaming.  “Clearly an infant.  Not more than a few months old.”

              “Yep.”

              “Remarkable,” Ford breathed.  “You said the name was Molly?  So it’s female.”

              “Wh-”

              “A fine specimen.”  Ford reached out to touch the mermaid’s green scales.  Stan took a step back, a sour look on his face.  “What?”               “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Stan demanded.

              “What are you talking about?  I’m just talking about your…pet, perhaps?” Ford hedged.  Stan’s mouth dropped open.

              “My pet?!  Ford, look at her.  Does she look like anyone you know?” Stan asked.  Ford peered at the mermaid.  The baby giggled happily and clapped her small webbed hands.  She had thick brown curls and a large ruddy nose to match her rosy cheeks.  Ford’s heart dropped to his feet.

              “…She looks like you.”

              “Yeah.  She does. Wanna know why?”

              “I’m dreading the answer.”

              “She’s my daughter, Stanford,” Stan said.  Ford swallowed.

              “Is- I take it her mother is a mermaid?” Ford asked, trying to be casual.

              “Yeah.”

              “Does she have a yellow tail?”

              “You saw her leave, huh?” Stan said.  “I told her if ya saw her, you’d probably write about her or- yep, there’s your science notebook.”  Ford smiled sheepishly.  “Go on, show me what ya wrote.”

              “Uh, I didn’t get anything down about her before you got back.  I do have my notes about a merman I saw earlier.” Ford showed Stan the pages.  “Unfortunately, I didn’t get a good look at him.  He had a red tail, and I sketched him from the back but-”  Stan stared silently at the journal, his face carefully guarded.  “Wait, do you recognize him?”

              “Yeah,” Stan said after a moment.  “Yeah, I do.” Molly began to emit a high-pitched wail.  “Shit, she can’t stay outta the water for too long. Gimme a sec.”  Stan rushed over to the water’s edge and carefully dipped Molly’s tail under.  Ford stared at Stan’s back.

              “Stanley…”

              “Yeah?” Stan asked, still watching Molly splash her tail excitedly in the water. Ford joined him and crouched down. He peered closely at Stan.  Stan looked at him, confused.  “What are you- hey!”  Ford poked Stan’s neck.  At Ford’s touch, three thin slits instinctively rose up, revealing red flesh below.  Ford stumbled back.

              “You- the merman I saw earlier was you, wasn’t it?” Ford whispered. Stan sighed.

              “Fine.  Yeah. The second you mentioned the tail color, I figured it out.  Red’s actually pretty uncommon.  Mearl – Molly’s grandpa – says I’m the first merson he’s ever met with red scales.”

              “You were watching me on the boat.”

              “I didn’t know it was you, okay?  Angie – Molly’s mom – and I were taking Molly out for her first trip outside the colony.  She’s a bit young for it, but we needed some air.”  Ford raised an eyebrow in amusement.  “Water.  Whatever. You know what I mean.  When you saw me, I was tellin’ Angie to hide Molly in the family cave, ‘cause there was a ship nearby.  A little bit later, I saw someone jump overboard, and went to check out what was happening.  It turned out to be you, and, well-”  Stan shrugged.  “You know the rest.”

              “How are you a merman?” Ford asked.

              “I fell in love with a mermaid and ate a magic plant.”

              “There has to be more to the story than that.”

              “Yeah, but it’d take a while to tell the whole thing,” Stan said.  He stroked Molly’s hair absentmindedly.  “What’s going on with you, Sixer?  Why the hell would you just jump straight to drowning yourself?  Who’s after you?”

              “His name’s Bill,” Ford said softly.

              “Bill…okay.  What makes him so nasty?”

              “It’s a long story,” Ford sighed.  “In summary, he’s- he knows more about the magical creatures and items of the sea than anyone else.  And he’s not afraid to utilize that information for his own gains.  I discovered that he was using the research I was working on to disrupt natural ecosystems.  Essentially, pillaging the ocean’s magical bounty.”

              “Pillaging- oh, shit.”  Stan stared down at the wet sand.  “I know who you’re talkin’ about.”

              “Really?”

              “Yeah.  News of mer hunters tends to spread fast.  Especially if they’re as brutal as Bill.”  Stan snorted.  “God, that’s such a dumb name for such a scary guy.”  He looked at Ford.  “So. What are you gonna do?”

              “I- I don’t know what I’ll do.”

              “Well…”  Stan glanced at the ocean.  “You said that this person couldn’t follow you to the bottom of the ocean.  And that’s where I live now.  If you want, you can crash on my couch for a while.”

              “I’m not a merman.  I would drown.”

              “Not a problem.  Angie’s mom taught me a spell that makes someone breathe underwater.”

              “Do merfolk have magical capabilities?”

              “Kinda.”

              “Fascinating,” Ford murmured.  Stan rolled his eyes.

              “So, are you gonna come?”

              “…I don’t see why not.”  Ford smiled hesitantly at Molly.  “At the very least, I could catch up with you and get to know the mer family you’ve become a part of.  Such as my newfound niece.”

              “It might be more than just Molly, Sixer.”  Stan grinned.  “Man, you’re gonna lose it when you see the eggs.”  Stan stood up and began to head back to the opening in the cliff.  Ford blinked, his brain trying to catch up with what he had just heard.  He shot up with a small yelp.

              “Eggs?”