#hat in hand and tail between my legs to apologize for being mean to him :-(

[voulezloux]

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[lonely-lost-soul]

Little Fox

(C!Fundy x Reader)

Request 12: Hey if you're making a request, do you do c!Fundy? If so, can I get a Fundy x half fox shapeshifter!reader where fundy finds an injured full fox!reader, and takes her home to patch her up without knowing that she's a shifter ówò? Context, the reader can shift into three forms: full fox, half and half(fox legs, tail, ears, fangs), and fully human. Thank you have a blessed day!!!

Requested By: Anonymous

Moving away from L’manburg or what was once L’manburg was one of the best decisions Fundy has ever made. Did it get lonely from time to time, sure, but at least he was finally at peace. He was away from his ghost of a father and away from the drama of everyone else fighting and the looming sense of death that lingered over everyone that lived in the once-prosperous nation. It was quiet and he was happy to be left alone, well, mostly alone. There was one exception, a snow-white fox that trotted around his house from time to time, curious (e/c) watching him with intent. He had always felt a connection to foxes considering he was part fox, he hated seeing them hurt or starving or treated with disrespect, so he kept them around. However the white fox didn’t seem to pay him any mind other than silently watching and wandering around his home, he started placing food out for the fox. This went on for a few months until one night something felt off. Fundy kept glancing out the window, almost like he was expecting to see someone but no one popped up until he remembered his little buddy. He didn’t know why it sent him so on edge, it was just a random arctic fox maybe it was the way the food was left untouched or the pull he felt to go the woods, but he grabbed his coat and stepped into the forest.

The first thing he noticed was the small animal prints littering the snow, there seemed to be some sort of scuffle. Worry entered his veins and his ears pressed flat against his head, he journeyed deeper into the forest and noticed little droplets of blood. Fundy adjusted his hat nervously and followed the blood droplets, crumpled on the ground in front of his feet was a blood-stained fox. The once pure white coat of the fox was stained with red splotches a big gash was torn from its side, Fundy felt nauseous. The wind seemed to blow against his exposed ears, almost urging him to pick up the fox and take it home. He reached out and picked the fox up in his arms and held it close, the wind blew again, his eyes widened a little in surprise, the wind seemed to whisper a thank you.

Back at the house he laid the fox down on his couch and began to patch up her wounds. Hopefully, she wouldn’t attack him in the morning, be too freaked out, he wrapped the bandages around the wound stopping the flow of blood. He just prayed his foxy friend would be alive come the morning light. Fundy flicked the lights off and went to sleep in his bedroom, even though all the windows were shut and locked tight he still felt that odd breeze tickle the tufts of his ears. ‘Take good care of her’ it seemed to whisper, his heart thudded in his chest as he snuggled under the covers. The morning sun streamed through his windows, blinding the hybrid slightly, he groaned loudly and sat up in bed. He ran his sharp nails through his hair tussling it a little bit, trying to calm the rat’s nest down. As snapped to consciousness fully when he noticed footsteps coming from his living room, very human-sounding footsteps. Fundy tensed and hopped out of bed storming into the room, a dagger in hand. He let out a startled shriek seeing a beautiful half-naked young woman standing in the middle of the room. However, he couldn’t even focus on that, he was more focused on the snow-white fox ears that sat atop her head, the fluffy tail behind her, and the fox-like legs.

She was like him.

“Fundy right?” She sent him a crooked smile, sharp fangs very visible, making him feel all types of things. “Names, (Y/n) and you saved my life last night.”

“You- Fox?! but- human-” His hands tangled in his orange hair mentally trying to come to terms with the fact that he had probably saved a forest spirit. “No shirt!” he sputtered feeling soft hands take his own, he noticed a smile on her lips, their eyes locked together,

“I’m a shifter. A pleasure to officially meet you.” He felt you squeeze his palms and he swallowed thickly,

“Shifter?”

He watched you nod tail swishing from side to side, you were very happy to be talking to him it seemed, Fundy felt oddly honored. “I have three forms! Full fox, half fox, and fully human,” You explained holding up three fingers on your hand. “Usually full fox is easier but as you can see,” You motioned to the bandages covering your chest, “it’s not without risks.”

“Hold the phone you’re telling me the fox I’ve been feeding-”

“Yup! That was me!” You giggled as his cheeks went red, “I appreciated it.”

“I gave you dog food! I’m so sorry, oh my god!” He sputtered out completely mortified by the situation. You let out a roaring laugh, it was very reminiscent of that of a fox but he supposed that, that made sense. He watched you dip your head and nuzzle underneath his chin, once again he felt his entire face burn red, your ears were so soft, the fur tickling his chin.

“It’s okay, I didn’t eat any of that. Just pretended.” You reassured lifting your head to once again meet his eyes. “Soooo...you gonna tell me your name? Or should I just call you handsome?” He felt the blush spread down onto his neck,

Oh no, she was so cute.

“Fundy! I’m Fundy.” He nodded more stiffly than he wanted too suddenly very aware of how close the both of them were to one another. You blinked after a few minutes peaking around his shoulder, oh shit was his tail wagging? A bright smile spread across your cheeks “Laugh it up okay! Not every day I get to have a cute fox girl nuzzle against me alright!” Your ears fell flat against your head, he watched pink spread across your cheeks, score.

“Cute?” You meekly whispered you pulled away a little to grab at your tail shyly, “Thank you.”

He was going to die, you were going to be the death of him.

After that first encounter, you, the real you, had become a staple of his life. You had moved with him a few days after showing your more human form to the hybrid. You knew how to cook which made him swoon, it tasted divine, he was tired of being alone. You made him feel like he still had hope, you were his family now even after only knowing you for such a short amount of time. There was an odd sort of bond the two of you had, he was happy to have someone understand him, on a level that no one has ever been able to before, especially not his father. Days rolled into weeks and weeks turned into months, it was about eight months in when Fundy finally confessed to you.

You’d spent the day away from home, in your full fox form, saying you needed to stretch your legs and Fundy let you go. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a mess all day worrying about your well-being all day, he barely could get anything done, so when he saw your white fur streak through the trees that night he knew you were home. He ran out onto the stones of the path and called out your name, he watched your ears twitch and turned towards him. He felt his tail begin wagging ecstatically and he could see yours begin to do the same, you charged headfirst towards him shifting as you run, as you arrived he held out his arms and you jumped right on in them. He felt your arms wrap around his neck as he lifted you into the air. He spun you around as he laughed,

“I missed you, Dee!” You purred out happily leaning back a little bit in his arms, he still held you above the ground.

“I missed you too Dearheart,” Fundy whispered looking up at your sparkling eyes it was then, with your white fur shining in the moonlight that he realized he was in love with you. “(Y/n)?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” You breathed out softly, cheeks pink, ears twitching, “I’d like that very much.”

So, he did.

Two years being together of being together was finally when Wilbur- or ghostbur- decided to visit his son. You were outside in the garden, tending to some of Fundy’s vegetables deadset on using some of the fresh ones to make soup for tonight. You were in your human form so you didn’t get your white fur covered in dirt, so you didn’t hear the ghost coming close to the house until he was leaning over your shoulder.

“Hello!”

You screamed like a little kit throwing your basket through the ghost who shivered at the foreign feeling.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” The ghost apologized adjusting the round glasses on his face. “I heard my son Fundy lives around here but I must be mistaken!”

“Are you...you’re Wilbur aren’t you?”

“Oh! You’ve heard of me! Was it my music, please say yes!” The ghost’s eyes seemed to sparkle with hope, he shrunk a little as he watched you shake your head, “oh…”

“I’m-”

“(Y/n)! I heard you scream, you alright?” Fundy peeked his head out the door eyes going big seeing his dead father standing beside you. Wilbur looked between the both of you before a tiny smirk spread across his face,

“Ohhhhhh, I see now.” Wilbur nodded watching his son’s face go red, “My little champion is all grown up! With a beautiful human to mind you!”

“Er...not exactly.” You mumbled, allowing your ears and tail to pop up from your head, Wilbur’s jaw dropped in shock and awe.

“She’s like you!” Wilbur gaped reaching up to touch your ears, you flinched a little, and Fundy snarled at his father. “Sorry, sorry,” He pulled his hand back with a sheepish smile Fundy finally walked over to the both of you, pushing you behind him only slightly.

“What’re you doing here dad?” His voice was gruffer than you’ve ever heard it, his tail was puffed up in a way you’ve never seen before from your boyfriend.

He was on edge.

Wilbur shuffled a little fumbling with a piece of something blue in his hands. “I just wanted to check up on my son. No one’s heard from you for a while we’re all getting a little worried. I love you so-”

“Dad.” He groaned pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose pinching it, “look. I appreciate you’re all worried but I’m happier here.”

“But you’re all alone out here! It’s not good for anyone’s health, especially not a young fox!”

“Excuse you?” Your eyes narrowed in offense, “I lived out here all my life.” You bristled in frustration, “I turned out fine.” Wilbur eyed you warily and Fundy squeezed your palm tightly, “I did!”

“I didn’t mean any offense. I’m just looking out for my son.”

“No offense but I think he can look after himself just fine.” You shot right back and Fundy covered up a surprised laugh, “So far so good. Plus he’s not alone, I’m with him.” You squeezed Fundy’s hand rather tightly, as Wilbur glanced at your intertwined hands.

“What she said.” Fundy nodded his head, “we have each other and that’s all we need. At least for right now. So try not to worry too much.” He waved his dad off, “Now if you don’t mind we have dinner to cook.” Wilbur gave a hesitant nod before turning back to look into your eyes,

“Don’t hurt him.”

“I don’t plan on it," You assured nodded your head you both had a brief staring contest before Wilbur said his official goodbyes and headed on his way. “I’m sorry,” Fundy watched your ears fall flat against your head.

“What for?” Fundy’s brows furrowed in concern, “He was being an ass, you had every right to defend yourself. Plus I hate him so.” He shrugged unbothered, “I love you though.” He pecked your cheek and you smiled shyly.

“I love you too Dee.” You spoke softly, pulling him close by his jacket, his tail began to wag enthusiastically.

“Kiss?”

“Kiss.” You nodded standing on your tiptoes to give him a long kiss, he purred tangling his fingers through your hair. You pulled away much too soon for his liking and let out a low whine, you giggled happily and peppered his face in light kisses. “Fundy?”

“Hm?”

“Let’s get married.”

“What?”

~~~

Next Up: Immortality and Nymphs Part II

[tales-unique]

FAITH, LOST  III

I gave myself a small case of blue balls with this chapter, I apologize! It gets a little, ahem, spicy. ❤️

Edit: @chelseareferenced forgot to tag my boo! Sorry love!

Chapter 3

Lords grant you mercy you were going to kill him if he didn’t let you out. Heisenberg had, quite quickly, established a set of ground rules that you were to adhere to at all times when in the Factory, the most notable being that you weren’t to leave the upper floors without him under any circumstances. This, of course, left you alone for the majority of your time there since he never allowed you to aid him in his work.

You’ll just get in my way — he’d sneer at you, patting your head in a condescending manner. Not to mention the Lycans have a preference for young, supple devotees — he would tease you, wiggling his gloved fingers at you from inside in the elevator, chuckling to himself as he descended into the bowels of the factory to continue his projects. You had no idea what he was creating down there, but you knew that it often didn’t work out as planned from the way he’d fume when he returned. Once again you have been left to your own devices, only this time you have a way to alleviate at least some of your boredom. With a huff of effort you slide to the floor and crawl over to an old vent duct in the wall. It had caught your attention one night when the echoing of his voice through the shaft had woken you up, realizing that one of his work rooms below you was connected to yours via this duct. Though it provided you with minimal entertainment, it did give you insight to the type of work he did. Experiments; this was where he made the Lycans and the other twisted creatures that roamed his Factory. One night, against your better judgement, you had read an extract from an open journal on his desk when trying to make yourself useful. It mentioned something called Soldats and an army he was trying to create. You were lucky that you had moved away from it to straighten his sheets, otherwise he would have caught you red handed. Not that he was happy to have you in his space at all. “Fuck!” The loud cursing pulls you back to reality and you peer down the shaft expectantly, gripping the grate that covers it as you listen to Heisenberg rant about his latest creation being a failure. He had a tendency to speak out loud, likely recording his findings. The echo of his boots thudding against the metal floor betrays his movements and you follow it along the floor until you can’t hear it anymore. It means one of two things; either he’s leaving the Factory altogether or he’s coming back up. Quickly, you get to your feet and smooth down your clothes; a pair of simple trousers and a tunic top. You’d managed to scrounge up the modest outfit with the help of the ever amicable and charming Duke after a rather abrupt introduction from Heisenberg. Begrudgingly he allowed you to pick whatever you deemed necessary, and even a few luxuries like a fancy hand mirror, even though he complained that you were going to bankrupt him. It didn’t stop him lingering nearby, supervising the exchange through the puffs of cigar smoke. It was on your return to the upper levels, Heisenberg fancying the stairs instead of the elevator this time, that you’d properly come into contact with the Lycans. You weren’t sure what possessed him to give you a glimpse of inner workings of his Factory. Maybe it was another cheap shot at frightening you, or maybe it was pride that drove him to parade his creations before you. Needless to say, they did scare you. The lower reaches of the Factory was their domain and as you followed Heisenberg closely, his one clear instruction, you couldn’t help but feel their eyes watching you from afar. They snarled and growled and howled at your intrusion, sniffing the air curiously. It was rare for their Master to bring something new to their den and not let them tear it limb from limb. You were quick to beg him to take you back to the relative safety of the upper floors, which he did so with immense satisfaction and shit-eating grin on his face. The sound of the elevator dings and you come to stand in the doorway, watching him stalk out as soon as the gate opens, muttering heatedly to himself. In typical Heisenberg fashion he stalks right past you and into his office without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment. Clearly someone was having a bad day. Steeling yourself, you pad gently to his office door and find that he’s left it open for once. A good sign. Usually if his mood is dangerously sour the door is slammed shut and you avoid him like the plague until he makes himself known, but that isn’t necessary this time. “Is everything alright?” You ask from the threshold, careful not to enter until you’re invited. Like the ever faithful woman you are you try to serve him as best you can, even if he does make it very difficult at times. Heisenberg sits in his metal chair, leaning back. His stance is exasperated, but the tight grip on the shot of liquor in his hand is angry. His hat and coat have been discarded on his bed, his glasses sit on the desk, and you see blood on his knuckles. Upon closer inspection you see the trails of splatter on his exposed forearms, his shirt sleeves having been rolled up while he was working no doubt. “Yeah,” he breathes, raising the glass in a mock toast, “I’m just dandy.” He is definitely not dandy. Toying with the prospect of overstepping the mark or remaining respectful to his status, you rock on the balls of your feet. On one hand he always seemed so annoyed when you’d remind him that you were there to serve him, as Mother Miranda had instructed, but on the other he often chastised you if you tried to take the initiative; frankly, the constant push and pull drove you mad. “Heisenberg,” you chide quietly, approaching him cautiously. He hated it when you called him my Lord, or even sir, heatedly telling you to just call him by his surname like everyone else did. You obeyed, accepting it as the happy medium. Vibrant green eyes watch you closely as you settle for leaning against the desk, careful not to disturb the organized chaos that was his research. It’s still a work in progress, the way you navigate around one another, but you’re slowly making progress. “You can talk to me, you know,” you remind him, trying to remain resolute under his intense stare. There’s no denying that his rugged appearance, scars and all, are attractive and his more wolfish qualities gave him a uniqueness that was equal parts exciting and intimidating. You swallow nervously at the notion that you may be growing a little too comfortable in your thoughts of Lord Heisenberg. “Is that right?” He hums, knocking back the shot in one. He sets the glass down slowly on the desk, lulling you into a false sense of security that you had no business having in that place. In an instant he’s up on his feet and towering over you, hands braced on either side of you. You stiffen at the sudden closeness, looking up at him with a startled expression; he always gets a kick out of scaring you. “And just what would we talk about?” Comes his veiled question, shrouded in feigned innocence, asked in a voice like sin. You can practically feel the static in the air, the room electrified. He’s trying to tempt you, to trip you up so you’ll fall into his trap and make a fool of yourself. It’s a game he likes to play. That little hummingbird caged within you is in full flight when he runs a clawed finger gently down your cheek, the threat of him slipping and slicing your flesh too real to ignore. Oh, how he finds your fear so tantalizing. Your lips part in a shaky exhale, chest tight with the onset of emotions you’d really not want to be unpacking right now. The metal edge of his desk digs into the back of your thighs, boxed in by his large frame. This close you can feel the heat that emanates from him, a consistent wave, that mingles with the scent of oil, leather, and something wholly him. It leaves you reeling, panicked by the unsettling notion that you like it. You’re losing the game so early on and he knows it, even though it was rigged from the start to be in his favour. Just at the point when you’re about to crumble, your body yearning for that delectable touch to trail just that little bit lower, Heisenberg cuts you off. It’s cold and efficient, with all the precision you’d expect from someone of his talents. With a low, downright sinful chuckle he takes a step back, leaving you a wide-eyed, wanton mess. He’s won and you just let him do it. Colour burns shamefully on your cheeks and you’re quick to scamper away to hide in your room, proverbial tail between your legs. You’re furious that you made things so easy for him to play you, and play you he did. Utter fool. Little did you know that the fourth, and most dangerous, Lord had played himself for a fool too.

[hungryflowers]

You’re Different Backstage

Title: You’re Different Backstage

Rating: Explicit (NSFW)

Continuity/Fandom: Balan Wonderworld

Character Relationship(s): “Balance” Balan/Lance

Character(s): Balan, Lance

A/N: This is going to be my FIRST NSFW submission for this fandom. Do not come at me with the torches, pitch forks, knives or shotguns. I, very recently, sent myself down the rabbit hole of Balance (Balan/Lance) and kept wondering: how nice would it be to see some good ol’ fashion sexy time with the two of them? Since no one has done it yet, I thought, why don���t I? What’s stopping me? Who can stop me? NOBODY!!! So I did this. And it took me 10 days to do, so please accept my thing!! Also, also, this will probably be the longest porn w/o plot I’ve ever written. Hence why it took nearly ten days. The editing alone was bananas!! Another thing, I’d like to apologize in advance if I offend anyone here who is Non-Binary or go by They/Them pronouns. Since Lance is canonically non-binary, I tried to keep it as close to the orientation as possible. This was real hard as I usually default to male pronouns for both of them. 

However, I didn’t do the same for Balan, as he does tend to go by more male pronouns than Lance does even though they are also androgynous in appearance. Maestro is a more masculine term even if neither of them actually are. Another big thing: Balan’s genitals here. Since they don’t have actual default genitalia, I like to think that he has the ability to oscillate his genitals. He can have male and female parts just not at the same time. With that out of the way, please indulge in this steamy lil’ fan fic. And yes, I take criticism.  

Other/Warning(s): Massive smut warning!! Penetrative sex, Oral and Cunnilingus, Some minor swearing, graphic depictions of sexual situations as well as multiple orgasms.  

Lance didn’t enjoy setting the ‘mood’ as others had assumed it. They weren’t  deeply inclined to romantic, or sappy gestures like the better half of themselves had been. Balan seemed better at the sentimental side of affirmations of love and adoration. Or of praises and well-wishes that devolved into lasting conversations of love and happiness. 

No. No such things came out of Lance. They never gave in the way Balan would crave it. All they have ever wished for in turn was the physical catharsis of those suppressed feelings. Lance never called it love. Far be it from them to say what it wasn’t, but call it what it is. For them, it was just sex. The debasing art form of it too; bed-rocking, sloppy and wet, body tingling sex. That kind one would have as a means to purge the physical, mental garbage of the day and get back to work. The sex that revolved around more the need to take and not deal in the emotional ramifications. Lance’s fangs would draw in a wicked grin, the idea of that perfect, lasting till the morning time sex rarely sounding so bad. They had raptured, fantasized of the feel of Balan’s more delicate, tender frame mashed into theirs as he was ridden to a mind-blowing high that could leave them both speechless for a long while. 

They would languish in these thoughts. The perverse nature of them driving him to do insane things in search of the release from the monstrous, bone-rattling ache. For now, Lance busied themselves to look away... their thoughts hazy and muddled with the resurfacing gnaw of pursuing pleasure. Their mouth ducked into their tattered caplet, hiding the baring growl that prickled at those lips. Soft, ocean-colored eyes hardened with shock, and some surprise as they locked with Balan’s. They must’ve been so entranced with the inner turmoil, Lance never registered the glance the maestro was giving them. The Maestro of Wonderworld’s presence did things to Lance. Things they acknowledged and didn’t like. Gods, who decided to torment them so by making this being so damned beautiful and siren-like? How dare he sit with an air so casual, it appeared nothing ever bothered him? Damn him. Damn his soft, luscious and devilish curves; feminine in some ways while masculine in others. But moreover, damn those goddamn large and intelligent yellow eyes.

Golden pools shimmered deliciously in the lamplight of the slow evening. The theater was always quiet at night. It was period of reflection, relaxation. Or maybe a time to finish some old project. Maybe begin anew. For Balan tonight however, it was his time to catch up on a few good reads. He hadn’t picked up a good novel in some time. Usually the only papers he read were his rough drafts of scripts and plans. But he loved to read. When he didn’t harass Lance with trivial tasks, or for the nuisance of conversation, Balan read. If not that, he wrote. He was a maestro of the craft; short stories, full-lengths, prompts and scenarios, or sometimes just a journal entry. On this night he didn’t busy himself with putting quill to parchment. 

Balan's mouth opened, a sound coming out but no words. He wasn’t entirely sure how to ask about Lance’s wellbeing with being snapped at. The other appearing to be in a dour mood tonight. Placing the book on the small, rounded oak table Balan unfolded his legs to stand. He stretched idly, rubbing at the back of his top hat before pulling it off his head to fluff out his bouncy mint-colored dreads. Humming a little tune, Balan rummaged through his showman jacket, pulling out a golden rubber band to tie his long dreads back. The tendrils folded down his shoulders neatly once they were out of the way, exposing the intricately made heart marking atop his dark forehead. 

His eyes fanned over the negati’s hidden features before he walked over to the bar on the far side of the room. Opening one of the cabinets, he pulled out an aged bottle of wine; the label slightly tarnished and dusty read in calligraphic silver “Caraveét”. He grabbed gold-rimmed chalices, pouring the shimmering iris colored wine into each of the glasses. He grinned, smelling the sweet and tart flavors. He took a slow sip from his glass before tapping the bar table with his gloved fingers, the racketing bring Lance out of their stupor.

“Did you want some?”, He inquired, hoping the swirling liquid would ease the storm that ravaged the negati, “You seem a bit broody tonight. Perhaps, a couple of glasses should ease both our minds.” The maestro chuckled giddily raising his glass as it gleamed in the low light. 

Lance regarded the glass, then the maestro as he walked over to them. The tentacles on their back lashed so abruptly, Lance had to do a non-verbal apology when they knocked over a few chairs by accident. They weren’t brooding. Not even mad, but they were feeling something. Just not sure how to find the words for it. 

Balan’s eyes drifted to Lance’s, regarding them. Waiting for them to answer the question they most likely didn’t hear in the first place. 

“What?” The tone was not to be a biting, agitated type yet Lance couldn’t make themselves look at Balan, knowing full well the turmoil they were in.

“Nothing... I was just asking if you would like a glass of wine? You are more the brooding lot than usual. Drink with me.” Balan’s playful baritone voice felt like velvet as it caressed their ears. That voice caused Lance to sulk further more, hiding their face inside the caplet as the thoughts, seeming to feel more like whispers of temptation, dominated their rational thinking. 

He took the offered glass yet chose not to drink of any of it. Instead he loomed over the rim as Balan took a long swig of his. 

Lance licked at their lips, unknowing of the gesture. They would give more than anything to kiss the taste off of Balan’s lips. Or just to kiss them at all. They had wondered what it would be like to feel the maestro’s lips tentatively licking, caressing theirs in a heated lip-lock. The maddening thoughts came back tenfold, causing the other in audible snarl, attempting to shut them away. 

“Lance... are you okay?” They heard Balan on the bridge of their conscious, the other’s voice like a muddling hum as they stood up quickly to move in front of Balan. The other, not knowing how to judge the move, backed into the bar, his glass still in hand while he searched the eyes of Lance. They appeared to be wild, nearly frantic with an energy Lance never expressed. 

Lance leered at the other silently before pushing himself right into the maestro’s form; trapping him in front of the wood lacquer. Balan’s fleeing gaze made Lance smile. Not grin... smile. His mouth perking with something that could not be said as his hands went to Balan’s cravat, pulling the other slowly toward him. 

“No...”, Lance confessed, eyes lulling closed dreamily, “I am not okay. And you are to blame.” That smile showed off the fangs, the points flitting in the soft lamplight. 

Balan could not fully process what was going on before Lance leaned in fully to capture the other’s lips. Night after night, they had dreamt up this moment and even now they cannot believe they had gotten this far. It was far better than any dream or wish; light blue eyes sliding closed as a slender tongue went past the maestro’s parted, stunned mouth. That moment caused a ripple of shock to seize Balan, contents of his glass spilling onto the floor, no doubt leaving a stain that’ll have to be dealt with. He didn’t even have the knowledge of dropping it, yellow eyes staring at Lance’s softened face before he willed himself to kiss back. His hands, once frozen indecisively, pulled Lance in close.  

Neither were sure how it had come to this, but Balan didn’t have the heart in him to make Lance stop. A small purr rumbled the kiss as Lance began to pull off. They disconnected breathlessly, only the small tail of spittle between them. Their breaths were heavy and hot, burning like steam with each exhale. It took the maestro to gather his bearings before his mouth was able to work again. 

“W-Why am I to blame?? Lance what’s happened to you?” Balan felt as if he knew what was about to happen, and tried his best to make it all make sense. He was normally in a lot more control in surprise like situations; yet here... he was unable to predict the sheer tumbling force that Lance was portraying. 

“You’ll understand soon enough,” Lance whispered, deftly kissing down Balan’s neck, inky-black hair brushing amethyst sparkled cheeks, “I’ll make you understand.” They said louder with a growl that exposed fangs.

Purrs rumble through Lance as they fumbled with anything that would be able to get Balan’s ensemble off. Instantly they are met with resistance as Balan shoves at them, hands going to the sharp shoulders defensively. 

“Lance! What do you think you’re doing?!” Balan exclaimed, standing his ground before Lance doubles their efforts to expose the maestro. They are only slimly successful when get to expose Balan’s upper shoulder; the tear just big enough to reveal swirling lines of golden runes, “Have you lost your mind?!”

 The other refuses to answer him, bringing themselves flush against Balan to kiss down the exposed markings. 

Had they managed to lose their mind? Lance would have to give that some thought later on. In the afterglow. But first, they’d have to get down from the tantalizing high that has them under a spell. Their lips brushed softly down the exposed skin, running lightly over the maestro’s clothed arm. Gods, both of them just had on too many layers. Lance flared up, frustrated by the inability to firmly feel the decadent skin.

“Lance, let me go!” Balan demanded, the command in his voice barely swaying Lance to push off him. He was losing control of the situation. And the scary part of it was that was what he wanted. Balan would have been lying to himself if he said that he didn’t want this. Yet to get it from Lance this way was never a part of the plan. 

“You don’t want me to let you go.” Lance stated, eyes twinkling with more than just mischief behind them.

“Yes I do!” Balan choked out, his act and bravado beginning to fail him.

“Then why are you pulling yourself into me?” Lance chuckled, allowing their hands to wander down Balan’s waist.

“I’m-” He stammered not expecting to see or know that he had been pulling Lance closer the entire time. Forbid it all, he wanted this negati more than anything right now. And he was showing how badly. Damn his body for this. He was normally in better control of his reactions, this lapse should not have been tolerated. 

His be-speckled face shown with the brewing embarrassment of being caught before shoving himself a bit harder, finally escaping Lance’s grasp. The poor thing looked a fright; face flushing a deep violet, hair askew as it rolled down his shoulders and back, teeth clenched in discomfort as he attempted to steady his breathing. His chest must’ve rattled from the urge to scream at Lance. Instead he stamped off, refusing to let Lance see how flustered he became. He’ll have to be in his room for a while to work out the steam that began to build.

He didn’t get far as a few tendrils of inky black wrapped around the other’s waist. He could hardly make a verbal protest while being pulled back into the other’s form. Large claws going up his neck, arresting Balan’s smooth belly as the tendrils dipped further. The tentacles moved lively, squeezing and pulling on the other as Lance’s hands swept and groomed over the maestro’s suit. When one hand dipped between Balan’s legs, he seized up. 

Yellow eyes dilated, Lance’s touch freezing his mind. The groan that escaped him was not intended yet was enough to make Lance’s groin ache. He was going to force those sounds out of Balan. In one way or the other. Their night was going to be fulled with these delicious noises. The tendrils smoothed over him, probing the other perversely. 

“Lance...please.” Balan became unaware of what he was begging for. He wanted this to stop, but he also felt like he’d regret refusing. This Lance... was much different than the one he’d encountered previously. The change felt real jarring; since they never made moves into his personal space. For anything. Least of all... This! He wanted to see where this could go. How much better it could get. 

His own hands skimmed over Lance’s suit, prompting the other to loosen their grip as Balan slid away from the tendrils. Balan took one coil in between his fingers, golden eyes gazing into the blue ones. The heat behind the other’s eyes made Lance shudder, a harsh sigh coming from his mouth as Balan took the tip of Lance’s tendril into his. The look stayed as the tendril came from Balan’s mouth, his tongue connecting it. The appendage darted out to swipe at the excess spittle left behind, the maestro’s eyes still glowing with a renewed heat. 

The action prompted a sneer from Lance’s features, their hand waving for a portal to open up behind Balan. The maestro gasped, turning to the hazy violet-colored portal. The shout of shock was to be expected as he was shoved right through it, the residual tethers of Lance’s self control snapping audibly as it receded. 

The overwhelmed, unknowing audience of Tims sat, wiggled, waddled and creeped up to sit in the place both beings had been.

                           ______________________________

It was not the fall that left him breathless as he landed on the massive expanse of what felt like a lavish bed. It wasn’t the deep contrasting colors of purple and gold accents that were illuminated by rainbow-esque runes and paintings of Negati markings throughout the immense, intimate space. Nor was it the pulsating rivets of scarlet that blended salaciously with the black and purple blankets and amassing of huge, plumy pillows. 

Lance himself left him utter breathless; transfixing him, mesmerizing him with the oscillating negati runes that gleamed in the room. Lance had never done this display before. Their runes barely pulsed or shined vibrantly whenever they were around each other. Evermore rarer when he was alone. The runes gave him an ethereal hue that the nighttime sky couldn’t rival. He brushed that thought away as Lance struggled out of their wardrobe, hardly mindful of seams, buttons or zippers as the top half of his shorn cloak was disposed of somewhere in the low lit room. Balan flinched yet shuddered at the ferocity Lance had showcased in removing his own tunic and darker colored vest from underneath. With his chest exposed; the tapestry of rune lines and fuchsia gleaming in the violet backdrop of the room, he was on Balan.

The maestro’s bright color scheme contrasted a great deal with the whole room, snow white wrapped in gold and scarlet with the fettering of navy with his undershirt. The colors screamed obnoxiously in comparison, and Lance wanted them all off. Balan looked on, dazed by the negati while Lance’s -no longer gloved, dark- fingers delved to pull apart the top of the collar, effortlessly tearing it asunder, a low suffering sound coming from the maestro but not much else. He would figure that Lance would be like this. There was no such thing as intimacy or care with the negati. Everything he touched broke in his hands. Balan knows well that this time will be no different.

 Those warmed hands skimmed over the prone body, fingers probing through the opened seams of the tattered clothings. They tickled him, a warm and fuzzy sensation spreading throughout the squirming frame. Balan felt lips on his chest, hands assisting in the pleasing endeavor while the other arched and shook. His mouth opened in an exhalation of steaming desire. When Lance pinched a nipple, Balan shot upwards in heated rebellion, forcing Lance to restrain him with his tendrils. 

He was about to demand that Lance release him yet was cowed into silence by a startling growl, “This ends if you keep moving.” That voice, their voice had done something to the maestro. In other instances, Balan would have fought Lance until the other relented control, but during this... he went oddly still, placate as Lance continued to trace a trail of kisses down his chest. He brought his hips forward and up as the negati began kissing down his belly, stopping shy of the seam of his pants. Warm hands went into the other’s pants, the kindled heat coming off of Balan’s genitals enough to make Lance purr. 

The maestro struggled against the hold as Lance pulled his pants down, heeled boots joining them as pile on the floor; kissing trails down his waist and down his legs. When the teeth pricked his skin, Balan thrashed. His face aglow with purplish speckles that brightened with his flush. He sparkled everywhere; cheeks, chest, hips and down the markings of his illuminated, swirling markings. Even the tendrils of his hair began to glow a slight with the forbidden heat. The hold on the restraints doubled.

“What did I just say?” Lance growled, the reverberating making Balan tense.

“L-Lance! Lance...”, Balan was calling to him yet couldn’t reach him as the negati roughly rid him of his clothing. Nearly naked, Balan shivered in the cool of the room as well as under the heated gaze of the negati, whom crawled up his frame to, again, kiss and lick at his newly glowing speckles, “Please... don’t stop! Please, Lance.” The maestro whispered pleas were a shock to the negati’s ears. He still wanted to punish him for fighting but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was becoming so lost to the feelings. 

“Save your voice, pet...”, Lance whispered as his fingers slipped past the maestro’s brightly colored panties, feeling him for the first time, “It is too premature for you to be screaming for me now.” He chuckled more as his folds became reactive to the fingers smoothing them over, luscious wetness forming inside the panties. 

Balan’s eyes widened, the shock of Lance’s finger boldly touching him made him to squirm, his own palm moving atop the negati’s. Much to Lance’s surprise, he didn’t hinder him yet chose to guide his fingers even closer, near enough for them to breach the delectable, delicate walls. Sun-yellow eyes rolled back once he felt one fingertip push its way inside, stopping short of sinking in completely. The maestro’s moan was unabashedly loud, body rolling in venture of more fingers. Lance marveled with fascination at the other’s willingness; form softening as he shook his head to and fro in delirium. He couldn’t stop shaking, lithe body aroused as the finger came from his wet sex. He smelt utterly delicious, dripping the natural nectar like a perfectly ripe fruit. His tongue slipped out to have a taste of it... and it had been everything he had hoped for. 

The aroma of the finest wine with the scintillating notes of vanilla and lavender. His cock pulsed in his own pants, over eager for its own taste. 

In horny glee, Lance yanked off the maestro’s panties, tossing the last piece of clothing into the darkness of his chambers in order to marvel at the most succulent sight in between the other’s rune spiraled legs. The plump lips of the vulva were just perfect enough to kiss, the natural wetness dribbling onto the blankets, glittering a soft purple as it did. The negati locked eyes with the heated, glazed expression before moving to take Balan’s mouth in a heated, soft kiss. The other kissed back with more fervor than before, free hand going behind Lance’s head to drag him down. 

 They pulled away with a long, loud sigh. The other scoring hot in contrast to the sheets beneath. Balan splayed his legs more, allowing for more room.

Lance grabbed up his thighs roughly, pulling him to the end of the bed to comfortably rest on their knees. Without much warning, Lance dipped his mouth right onto the humming lips of his vulva. That tongue went right to work at lapping up the sticky juices in and around those lips, a soft chuckle coming out of Lance as Balan shouted in lewd desire. His giant hands went right to Lance’s head, twining his fingers in the other’s hair as he shook and shimmied to the lapping tongue, hips arching to bring those lips closer to his pussy. 

Lance focused on the luscious flavor of his cunt, dragging Balan closer to them as the maestro attempted to pull back. Their grasp got tighter the harder Balan fought against the hold.  He felt the other’s grip in his hair, the tugging just enough to keep Lance deep. He lost his mind to Lance’s teeth grazing the top of his clit before sucking hard on his folds.

“Gods! Uhh, huh, L-L-Lance!”, Balan stammered, the corner of his eyes prickling with unshed tears while he fought and screamed into Lance’s lips. He was in heaven, but damn him if he’d admit that to the Negati. Balan flailed his head, mint-colored dreads going all over as he lost all semblance of control, “Dear gods Lance! Please! I cannot take...!” Balan pleaded for him to stop, to show any mercy on him as an intense rush of savage, carnal desire shot through him. When the other didn’t heed him, he wept. A startled sob ripped from his gasping maw as he arched into Lance’s rippling tongue. 

Lance backed off in order to awe at the loss of self control Balan was beginning to display. He took in the panting, shaking mess of a maestro before his very eyes; mouth hanging open as he greedily swallowed gulps of air, body aquiver with mind melting lust, hands holding his head like a vice as those sinful thighs wrapped around him. The sight of him made the negati moan unintentionally, tongue plundering the maestro. The vibrations of it caused Balan to clench on him and scream, both hands abandoning Lance’s hair to slide against the cooler sheets. 

“Oh! Oh gods, please, please...” The maestro whimpered, body relishing in that feeling while his mind boiled in intensity. 

Lance, accounting for Balan’s behavior, moaned louder and longer against the lips of Balan’s clit, as well as kept their tongue inside with the intent to find his G-spot. They kept at it for sometime, their tongue buried deep as their hands massaged over Balan’s heated, dark thighs. They kept the maestro as close as they could as they tongued the bundle of nerves located far up the other’s pelvis. 

“Wait! Wait! Lance please... don’t...please-” He hardly could finish the plea as instant rapture shot through his frame, causing him to clench on Lance’s tongue in a spine-melting orgasm. His mouth hung open in a room-rocking cry as his body snapped rigid, arms behind him as he grasped tight on the sheets. His chest thudded rapidly to his erratic breathing. His flesh clenching and tingling around Lance’s tongue the climax continued through him. There would be no reprieve however as he became rigged again, legs snapping around Lance’s head suddenly with another powerful orgasm. 

Lance had not stopped even through the second climax. Not even with Balan wailing in what could be felt as pain. The silky walls gushed with his essence, the liquid sex simmering on the negati’s tongue as they drank it. A pleasured laugh rippled through them as they pressed hard kisses to the top of Balan’s pussy. Kissing it several more times as Balan screamed at them in another language. They still didn’t stop as he felt the other kicking at them with feverish intent. When he almost clambered away, Lance reinforced their hold to plunge their tongue into him again. 

“For gods sake Lance! I can’t take anymore! Stop, please! I beg of you!” He wailed as tears streamed down his face. 

An empathetic grimace came to Lance’s face as they finally relinquished his hold on the thoroughly ruined maestro. Their lips were deliciously wet with the slick of the other’s sex, the taste even better than the wine he captured on Balan’s lips only moments ago. He watched him roll on the sheets, finding some balance of his overheated body and the cold contrast of the dark sheets. Deliriously, he crooned and purred as he came down from the high. It took him about five minutes total to calm himself. And then he smacked Lance’s shoulder. Hard. 

“Bastard! I told you to stop! What in the hell would it have taken for you to listen to me?!” He hissed, eyes narrowing darkly as he sat up. He seemed the opposite of pleased at the moment. A contrast that Lance felt prepared to deal with. Can’t please some people. The sentiment literal in Balan’s case. 

“You were fine with me not a few minutes ago.” Lance jabbed as they groaned at the pressing of that erection against their tight pants. The glare Balan shot at Lance made the other’s ears pin low. 

“That was before I had two orgasms in a row, heathen! You should have more respect for me. And be more receptive Lance. This isn’t just about you!!” He snapped. Nope. None too pleased at all. 

Lance blinked, “This... wasn’t about me. Trust that if it were; I would’ve fucked you through this bed. The only reason I didn’t do that is because I want to see you cum. I’ve only ever heard that-”

“Wait, wait a minute. You’ve heard me climax?” Balan started, a touch confused. 

“In your bedroom, when you think you’re alone. True, there are no visitors around but someone was always in the theater,” Lance purred as soft as a breeze. The negati smiled at the brightening embarrassment on Balan’s face, wishing now he had his hat to hide it. It softened them so seeing the normally composed, bombastic maestro reduced to a shivering, blushing mess. Gingerly as allowed, Lance caught Balan’s face, causing the other to look at them, “I guess I just wanted to put the face to the voice. And I am not disappointed.”

Lance leaned over to kiss the still warm cheek of the maestro as the other side-eyed him, the smallest smile forming. 

“I’m... not used to this side of you. You’re normally so far away from me. In fact doing you’re very best to stay out of my sight. Even when I want you there. You know...”, A slow pause before Balan finished the thought, “You are different... too bad we both have to be backstage to see it.” 

“I’m different backstage?!”, Lance’s long ears perked at the comment, not ever having someone feel or compare the sentiment, “I’ll remember that then. Do you want me to continue then? Or would you rather sulk about how I never know about your needs and cues?” Lance’s eyes sparkled with a mischief that could rival Balan’s.

“Yes, damn you. That...was a genuine experience.” He giggled, the noise a delight to Lance’s ears, leaning back on the plushy pillows, tendrils sprawling out comfortably behind him. With a singular exhale Balan relaxed against the sheets, hands going in his hair, fiddling with and tossing a singular white sliver of his tendrils. Only... it wasn’t his hair, Lance noticed and then raised an unseen brow in suspicion. 

“Is that... an ear?” They breathed a laugh as Balan hid it in his hair again. When he sat up, it confirmed everything that Lance thought prior; he had the same ears as they did, a slight longer, floppier and appeared to be super soft. The negati’s eyes sparkled as they pulled out the hidden appendages, wondering why they hadn’t noticed them until now. 

“I-I-I never liked them. They’re long, cumbersome and don’t fit under my hat properly. So I just have been tying them back along with my dreadlocks. Wha? Why are you pulling them?!” Balan shrieked, his sensitive membranes folding as Lance fiddled with them. The stark white with the hue of light green made the ears stand out, the occasional flap picking up the slightest noise. 

“Why hide them? I think they’re absolutely wonderful.” Lance emphasized as they waggled their own long, dark ears. Their ears sat higher than the maestro’s and didn’t bend as much. He crawled over to the negati, aligning his hips in between the others legs with care. Their pulsing erection awoke his deepest desires, causing Lance to grind their clothed crotch into Balan’s exposed one. He gasps weakly, feeling the outline of the negati’s cock against his sensitive folds, gloved hands moving up Lance’s arms to bring them in for a deep kiss. 

Consumed by more the kiss than the passion behind it Lance drove their tongue deep into Balan’s mouth, tasting the other’s breath and intermingling the taste of his fluid sex. Balan’s tongue stuck out as Lance’s lips engulfed them, teeth grazing over the appendage while Balan groaned hotly. He brought his head higher, the expert work of that tongue making him drunker than any alcohol. The longer it went, the more impatient the maestro became; his hands going from Lance’s arms to dip into their pants to rip out the other’s cock. 

Lance’s eyes flew open as hands peeled off their pants and pulled out their cock, the member free from the strain at last. They’d never lie to themselves about not feeling relieved. The darker phallus was impressive at best; thick in girth and longer than Balan’s, some negati rune marks trailed on either sides of their crotch and lower hips, and the tip looked spire like yet appeared to be soft to the touch. Balan would find out soon enough. 

“I get it. This is moving too slow. But I thought that you’d appreciate it.” Lance inquired, chest rippling in steady laughter. It felt like a punishment for forcing Balan to ride out his first orgasms. 

Balan didn’t speak as he shoved Lance over, raising himself atop the other. Seated on their lap Balan took in the sight of his paramour, and just how dazzling they appeared. Chest rising and falling with softened breaths, the runes coming to life again in a brief flashes of multicolored lights, but he couldn’t stop looking at the other’s face. The heart marking atop his forehead blazing almost vermillion instead of the darker pink it usually was, their small fangs bared, glittering in the soft purple hue of the bed chambers. 

He leant down, kissing the long neck, chest, pressing his lips hard onto his ribs and trailed a heated kiss down their pelvis; stopping just short of that maleness. He spared them a coy heated glance before kissing the drooling tip, eyes going to Lance to see their reaction. The other tensed, mewling the moment they felt those lips, tip swelling on demand.  

“I’m going to suck the soul out of you. Just as you had did to me.” The heat in those words made it more fact than statement and Lance couldn’t wait long enough. They could have never imagined having the current maestro of Wonderworld’s mouth on their dick. To be honest, they could not imagine any of this happening right now. There was something so decadent and sinful about the way Balan talked dirty. Such things were just never heard from such an angelic mouth. 

He stopped thinking altogether as Balan removed his gloves, throwing them onto one bedside table to fist his thickness roughly, stroking the lengthy girth. Thumbing over the head, he gauged how steady Lance was, the swelling member making the maestro’s mouth drip with unshed spittle. From the way he opened his mouth and sucked in them in deeply, Lance could have sworn that he had done this before yet can never remember a time this would ever happen. 

“Ohhh yes! Balan...” Lance’s lungs stopped working the second Balan’s tongue encircled the head and bobbled repeatedly, his saliva silkening his hot length. Lance shuddered, moaning deeply as the tendrils on their back came back to life and spread across Balan’s pussy, massaging the outer vulva instead of the velvet walls. The sensation caused the maestro to moan around the dick in his mouth, a chain reactive shiver from Lance followed. 

Balan slowly rocked on the tentacles that fondled on his folds as he swallowed down more of Lance, lips almost resting on their crotch before pulling off. Soon the maestro began working his hands with his tongue, hands pulling at the medium sized balls as the underside of the long cock was stroked by Balan’s tongue. 

The tentacles worked Balan harder, the other groaning loudly with the near penetration on one tendril. The movement caused Lance to swear, hands digging into his hair, pushing the mint colored coils out of his face. 

“Don’t stop Balan! Please don’t stop!”, Lance cried as they got closer to an explosive release. The vision of seeing cum painting the maestro’s immaculate, lovely face caused a shudder to surge out unconsciously. The tentacles groped the silky vulva with an intensity that caused Balan to pull off the other’s cock to choke out a cry. 

“Lance!,” Balan called, drippings of drool falling onto the sheets as he shivered on the tentacles that never penetrated. He growled low as he pushed himself back on the largest of the tentacles, the bulb going right into his pussy, slicked with the welcomed wetness, “Ha, oh yess.” He crooned before stuffing the throbbing cock back into his mouth, pumping and sucking with the same vigor as the tentacle inside. 

Lance mumbled something in a different language, thrusting into Balan’s warm mouth, along with the tentacle slipping through the sticky mess seeping from his tightening walls. They could barely muster the maestro’s name as a ringing sound flushed through their ears, body going tight as a bow while Balan swallowed down the cock fully. Their hands dug into the other’s hair making sure Balan was close enough to swallow all of the rich, violet colored seed as it splashed down his throat. The tentacle widened inside of his pussy, pushing on the clit with the vibration of its master’s climax.

They thrashed in zeal as Balan continued to suck them dry, not worried about the veiny tentacle that fucked him deep. He was determined to live up to his statement; soft, warm hands smoothing over Lance’s sharp hips as he swallowed him down more, moaning and whimpering as the length sputtered more seed. When the tentacle pushed more into the G-spot, Balan cried out, forcing his hips down to rock with his new orgasm. He had to get the cock out of his mouth in order breathe a bit proper as his walls vibrated with the climax.

The room became blanketed in a contented silence as they both came from their highs; Lance’s chest heaving air as Balan sat on their hips to find his mind. He purred with fervor as the tentacle slipped out of his cunt.

“That was good, yes?” Balan inquired, eyes wide and soft, body just as soft and pliant as he awaited a reply. The poor darling was self-conscious. A trait he never displayed when performing for anyone, nor anything. 

Lance’s laugh brightened the maestro’s be-speckled face, ears twitching with the tenor of sound.

“That was the best head I’ve ever gotten, my lune-light. And you did what you said you would do.” Lance spoke breathlessly while they leant up to brush their forehead against Balan’s. The feathery kiss, as well as the compliment, drove the other to keen delightedly, ears flapping in exuberance. 

“Your... ears. They flap whenever you’re excited or praised don’t they?” Oh, Lance was about to be so evil now. The sly grin invited as much. 

Balan nodded his head, not even knowing he was acknowledging the question, smiling and flushing like mad as he did. 

“Look at you. Flushed, heated and so devilishly handsome. A most salacious siren you turned into,” Lance growled as they pulled himself up but kept Balan in his lap, “A gorgeous being like you deserves to be drenched in the most opulent of pleasures. The thickest form of desire. Do you want me to worship you?” That damning voice caused Balan to shudder and grasp them in desperation. 

“Yes! Worship me, worship my very body, revere it!”, He shouted, no longer bringing himself to care about anything other than the euphoria, “I want to feel you in me, on me, all over me!” Heat basked from his body as his ears flapped, mouth open in heavy pants. His naked cunt rocked on Lance’s cock, not sinking in fully. The movement caused Lance to spur into action, going on their knees to better to better position Balan, the maestro spreading his thighs eagerly on Lance’s lap. 

Lance’s fingers intertwined with Balan’s, his hands warm and only touch wet. They pressed their teeth into the skin, reveling in the dark wrists that glowed subtly with golden accents and swirling patterns. Lance repeated the motion, tongue lapping at both wrists, palms and fingers. Lance felt the smoothness of the maestro’s beautiful hands. Their eyes shimmering in reverence as they pressed sweet kisses to each fingertip slowly. Their own hands felt up his palms; still so warm and just as silky soft. That tongue continued to trace the long golden lines, taking his time to press his lips into his wrists. 

“Balan...” There weren’t enough words for Lance to say, or piece together for the time spent with each other. Nothing could prepare either of them for the sheer intensity of this new emotion. Melding of carnal lusts neither have the ability to describe. So for the first time tonight... Lance stopped talking. Letting only their bodies say so much more. 

Steadying him, Lance brought Balan down on the hard thickness slowly, agonizing slow. The maestro’s glint was hot and heady, hands going to Lance’s shoulders as support. Lance heaved a hot moan, aligning the next thrust directly into the maestro. There wasn’t a need to test if the other was ready for it or not; his tightness giving way subtly with each small piston. The fiery gaze of Balan soften into kindled embers once he was fully seated on the other’s cock. He was starting to perspire, a reaction that Balan never had to anything in his life. Rushing sweat beaded down his neck, his chest and around his waist glazing him in a hue of condensation that began to make his body slippery. 

They stayed in each other’s laps for a second before Lance thrust upwards, igniting Balan’s tongue again. He cried out in another language, most likely a swear considering the dialect. He groaned weakly, his body submitting to the roughness Lance invited with each movement. The moment Lance had worked out the rhythm the thrusts became harsher, more precise, pinpointing the exact spot to hammer him into a delectable frenzy. Lance’s breaths got rougher, louder, more of their teeth becoming exposed as they snarled in ecstasy. 

Balan could barely hold on. Literally. His grip on Lance’s shoulders loosened each time the negati impaled him, the motions making him too sensitive, body on fire. Though barely cognitive, Balan did his best to rock up to meet with his thorough pounding. Moving his hips at an angle, Balan caught the ribs of Lance’s spired phallus, screaming out as it stabbed him. 

The maestro’s screams did something primal to Lance, the sex-fueled fire warping and corrupting their licentious mind. 

“You like it?”, The negati spoke deeply, the baritone voice smokey and laced like a honey-tipped whiskey glass, “Look at yourself. Becoming undone with just my cock. You cannot comprehend how fucking devilish you are! Siren!” Lance dragged Balan down, further stabbing him with the rigged member. They were so close yet weren’t about to go if Balan didn’t first. They were going to see the maestro climax on his dick. There would be nothing to stop it now. Astoundingly, Balan replied to the question, voice much like Lance’s yet tremulous in its form.

“Yes! I love it, I love you!,” His gaze meets the others in an embrace that Lance cannot escape from, “I love you so much, don’t stop please.” The plea is whispered as the remainder of Balan’s self control is pounded out of him. His lanky legs surrounding the negati, forcing them to stay the course as his cunt devours them hungrily. 

It becomes too much for Lance; the fucking, the confession... just the sounds of Balan’s voice as they fuck. They snap forward hard, cock slamming the maestro’s pelvis as they climax, taking Balan right with them. The guttural snarl that surges from Lance actually scares Balan, those golden eyes wide with an erotic fear of the other before it fades with a deep-bodied orgasm that reverberates through his soul. He wails out, the pleasure so cavernous it eats him alive, body stiffening to the point of pain, absolution and exultation drowning him in high waves. His clit sucks Lance of everything; reason, sense, the will to stop. He trembles at the feeling of the other’s seed shooting inside of him, viscous ropes of cum shoot forth as Lance loses the rhythm of their own thrusts. 

They stop fully when Balan’s cunt loosens its hold, the negati falling forward atop the messy sheets. Balan makes a cry of something between pain and pleasure when he is flopped on his back with Lance atop him. Lance’s member has yet to soften inside the other’s creamy walls, the spired tip rubbing on Balan’s g-spot. 

The room falls silent again, save for the heavy pants and breathless laughs from the two. Neither recovering fast enough as the euphoria drains all other sensations from their bones. Lance’s spine is dexterous as wet spaghetti, mouth open in loud gulps of air. Balan fares no better, legs twitching uncontrollably. Bare chest dripping with sweat, golden markings along his arms and stomach gleaming and flickering in the contrasting violet lights. His coils are drenched as well, pouring over his eyes and messily over his face. Speckled markings aglow with the shades of amethyst make him look pulchritudinous. 

Lance raise themselves up, both of their hands going on either side of the exhausted maestro’s supine form, loins still burning from the near volcanic heat from their fucking. They readjust their position, body flush to the other, seeming to never be close enough. They smile softly as Balan smiled chastely at them. 

“That was fantastic... honestly the best sex I’ve ever had.” Balan complimented, his eyes not as glazed from before. 

“Good to know, but I hope you didn’t start thinking it was over?” Lance drawled, the tone eerily lustful.

Balan stares quizzically. How could anyone want another go after that?

“You want to go again?”

“Just one more?,” Lance breathily laughed as their hips rock gently, phallus a touch harder than prior, “If it helps, you can lie on your back and I’ll handle the rest.” They lean over Balan, kissing his cheeks and the heart on his forehead. 

Balan rolled his eyes. He wasn’t complaining about another time, but his body sure was. He internally decided one more bout wouldn’t cause too much strain. 

“Lancelot, the insatiable one. Who knew you’d be addicted to my cunt?” Balan chuckled; the nickname still an endearment to Lance. It would be rude to lie about how the name made them warm on the inside. And hearing that sugared voice utter it with a playful air softened the negati. 

“Not just your cunt... but you as well. I love you too.” The words came out before Lance knew. Their lips moved yet didn’t have any prior knowledge of it until seeing the way Balan stiffened, long ears swaying upwards at the words.

Both of their chests fluttered; Lance never expected to say those words during sex. This...this was not supposed to be about love. And yet, it was all Lance had on their mind. They had Balan now. All they would have to do is love him. In more than this way. With all of this joy they had felt in the confession, the familiar ick of something tar-like bubbled to the surface. Lance’s mind honed in on all the deprecating things the voice said.

‘What? You can love? Oh Lance... it will be ruined by you so soon.’

‘You once loved...and look at what it turned you into!’

‘This is sex Lance... that’s all it will. ever. be.’

‘He can only feel pity for loving a monster like you’.

The voices began to make Lance physically sick. No matter how hard Lance tried, they wouldn’t be willed quiet. They began to tremble uselessly, a sob retching from the negati as those thoughts and words; their own words swallowed them.

The maestro lunged forward, planting a kiss on the other’s lips. The cathartic heat that came from it brought Lance out of their head, focusing on the other below them. They both stayed lip-locked for a moment, Balan kissing as if Lance were about to drown any minute. The kiss saving them from themselves for a moment like this. The voices dissipated, barely a hum coming from the back of Lance’s mind. They didn’t matter. Only Balan did. The kiss ending when Balan pressed those lips to the fuchsia colored heart atop Lance’s brow.  

The touch was so gentle. So tender that it made Lance’s heart swell.

They looked down at Balan, who smiled pleasantly back at them. The look of love so much more than it could ever be. ‘It’s okay. You’re okay’ is what those golden pools spoke even if Lance didn’t hear it aloud. There wouldn’t be a need to. 

In spite of how small it was; Lance smiled. The motion felt real. He hadn’t had a genuine smile in over a thousand years. Gods, when was the last time he felt pure happiness unfold in his heart? There’d be a time and place to think on that later as they shifted Balan’s hips more, grinding forward, hips shifting to reawaken his long erection. The stings of pleasure rode through Balan, arms going behind his head to grab for the jumbled mess of velvet purple blankets. A small whine went past his lips as Lance’s midline bumped against Balan’s pelvis again, causing a flare of scorching desire to arise. The maestro never subdued, or otherwise suppressed his moans. He would allow Lance the ability to hear how he felt for him. 

The negati gripped Balan beneath his thighs, pulling his legs away so they could splay open. The new position allowed Balan to relax instead of trying to readjust too often. 

A surprised gasp from the maestro made Lance look at his face; the beatific expression of this dazzling, bewitching and downright mesmeric creature spurring Lance to pump into him harder. The be-speckled maestro had his eyes closed, turning out the warm, shimmering pools of the richest gold many would never see. 

“Please lune-light, open your eyes for me.” The reciprocal adulation of love  Lance gave could break someone’s heart and warm another’s but it was his tone that made Balan’s eyes open; aroused and so husky. When he looked upon the negati, a form of ardor seeped through him. A shy smile graced his features as he nuzzled into Lance’s chest. 

“Ohhh, say that again. Call me that again,” He whispered as his body arched with the deeper, slower thrusts, “I need to hear it again, Lance.” He began pining for the sound of the other’s voice, chest heaving in irregular patterns. Long ears flicked up, picking up the sounds of Lance’s exertions as they grounded each other closer to climax. 

“Lune-light...my lovely lune-light, you are so stunning.” Lance cooed, eyes warm as they watched Balan’s ears flap in jubilance. They fucked into him harder, faster when Balan’s hands went from the sheets to cling to Lance’s arms in order to steady himself. He was succumbing again, mind lost as avaricious lust ensnared his visage. 

Lance repositioned one hand to grab the maestro’s tight waist and underneath his back, slowing their thrusts first in order to shift a portion of their weight to sink in deeper. They kissed the inner thigh of Balan’s left leg as the other hand grabbed there and held him tight. The new position brought Balan’s ass up from the bed, both legs hanging on either side of Lance as they brought their pelvis’s together. The negati had to get to their knees for the next part to become effective, sprawling their hips a little. When they had gotten in position, they leant over to press another reverent kiss to Balan’s forehead, the friction causing the maestro to growl. 

“Move. Lance, I beg you.” Balan’s resistance melted a long time ago as his hands tightened around Lance’s upper arms. 

When they move, Balan’s equilibrium gets flipped upside down. The position had the maestro screaming so loud, Lance tipped their ears down to block out the sound. The reaction was instant, the gorgeous being’s mouth flying open as he threw his head back with each stroke. His hands scrambled for purchase of the negati as he began thrusting back on the other’s cock. Body spasming at the rippling sensations. 

The change in position did wonders for Lance as well; they were able to take in all of the other’s grace, elegance and succulent desire. The screams of pure ecstasy powered Lance onward, eyes half-lidding as they aimed their thrusts. Lance felt the maestro’s bruising grasp loosen, the body tightening from the exertion. He looked as if he was going to lose his mind again; assuming he had ever found it after the first few times. 

“Look at this.... look at you,” Lance growled, hands leaving Balan’s waist to drag the other further down, “This is what I have been wishing for. I’ve have been waiting for you and this! Gods, now that I have you, I’m not letting you go.” The negati enunciated a portion of their words with alternating thrusts that caused Balan to spasm around them erratically, the maestro’s head swaying, more mooring, like a boat on torrential waters. 

Balan tried to stutter something in response. There could not be any words he could be able to use in a circumstance like this. The euphoria blanketing his headspace, only the want for this to never end on Balan’s mind. He wished he could stay like this forever; being loved in between his legs the way that Lance was loving him. Tears welled up but were blinked back. That familiar entrapment, that build was upon him now. A spring ready for release as Balan angled himself to meet a harsher thrust from Lance. He didn’t know what to do with his hands so he tugged on the negati for some leverage. And he tugged at him desperately. 

“I-I-I can’t-- hold it back much! Lance, I need this! I can’t hold back! Oh my gods!” Balan’s pleasured whimpers were music to the other, the noise causing Lance to pulsate inside those divine walls. He was about to let it all go. Neither of them capable of denying their animalistic need for a blissful finish. 

“Do not hold back my lune-light! I want us to be in climax together. I’m ready, just like you are. Lock me inside your heaven!” Lance yelled, throwing their head back unabashedly for the final few thrusts. 

Something in the gravelly tone caused Balan to relent all self control at that moment, the high octane pressure rushing from his pelvis, seeping into his blood in a body rattling orgasm. He screamed, more belted out his release, muscles contracting and constricting in a severe, mind-numbing vice. He could no longer keep his eyes open, passion scalding his insides making his body heat unbearable. 

He kept spasming, helpless as Lance roared one last time, pinning Balan’s softened frame to theirs in a rough, possessing manner. They dove off the  pinnacle with as much fury and need as Balan did. Their fingers dug into the tender skin, maw wide with a roar that shook the room. The negati’s own form convulsing and seizing as Balan’s cunt squeezed their cock to the point where it ached. They shuddered with the intensity and rush of seed; feeling way too hot inside of the maestro, shooting deep inside, not stopping even as Lance humped Balan through their own climax. 

When they were sure they had nothing left to give Lance let Balan go, the other’s spent body flopping atop the bedspread. The negati pushed back their inky dreads back from the sweat drenched face, eyes slightly glazed. They shook with the inglorious feeling of satisfaction before pulling out of Balan’s thoroughly ruined cunt, their cum drooling out in delectable, erotic ribbons. The scent of the intermingling sex made the cock twitch. Without a thought given, Lance’s pointer finger went past the swollen, beat-up lips of the maestro’s pussy; swiping the oversensitive folds for just a taste of the cream. 

Balan yelled, overstimulated and a touch annoyed, kicking at Lance.

“Fucking stop! You’re going to kill me!” Balan cursed, his chest heaving. He was the perfect picture of the word ‘ruined’; mint-colored coils askew all over his face, sublime form thrumming with the residual orgasm. 

“Would this have not been the best death to have?” Lance giggled sweetly, tongue slipping out to lap at the mixed cream of their sex. The taste was of it was so divine, it couldn’t be described. When their legs regained function Lance dipped into the conjoined bathroom. Balan barely registered the sound of water coming from a faucet. Though he wasn’t going to register anything for a while. His eyes slipped closed, breathing becoming more steady as the high simmered out of his frame. He didn’t hear Lance’s footfalls when the other returned into the room yet the feeling of the cold, damp cloth felt exquisite on his hypersensitive skin. He smiled happily as the cloth went over his face, chest, arms and even his back, swiping away as much sweat that wasn’t collected by the sullied bedsheets. 

He winced as the cloth went between his legs, touches kept tender and dainty while the negati cleaned his clit. The movements were apologetic in the sense of the rough handling. With the remnants of their sex thoroughly cleaned, Lance threw the dirty cloth into a hamper nearby and crawled into bed. They felt the need to say something to Balan, yet was not prepared to see the other fully asleep. The smile remained on his face as he dreamt soundly. Safely. 

The maestro rarely slept so seeing him do so, even in the other’s bed, was recherché. The moment a surprise to see with their own eyes. It warmed their heart in so many ways. Lance wondered inwardly if their heart could get any fuller. Carefully, as to not wake him, they slid Balan’s frame underneath the heavy blankets, keeping his head low to rest it against the larger puffy pillows.

As much as Lance tried, they couldn’t lie to themselves about how adorable and desirable this being was. Is... and still will be. They could make up some spun tale about how Balan lusted for the feeling of this sex. And yet, they wouldn’t. They weren’t going to deny the affirmations and litanies of love, passion and reverence he bestowed. In this way, Lance loved Balan. Balan had loved them too. This new feeling blossomed and flowed within them. It was all Lance cared about and would gift this love in kind to Balan tenfold. It was definitely what they both deserved. 

For now, Lance snuggled into the maestro, a happy little smile playing on their cheeks whilst pressing their face into the other’s neck. The mint-colored coils of the other’s hair fell in a tangle on Lance’s face, making them wrinkle their nose. 

“I...love you, lune-light...”, Lance whispered pressing a singular reverent kiss to the glowing heart on Balan’s forehead, the mark shimmering against the darkness. The negati nuzzled the sleeping being, arms crossing Balan’s chest to swaddle him close to their body, “I don’t know if you had heard me, but I just hope you know.”

Unknown to Lance, Balan had heard him. His own smile was genial and kind, taking the affirmation as it was. There was no need for Lance to explain themselves. Such things like this rarely, if ever, happened. So Balan accepted this. He had openly accepted that Lance is, and will remain, worthy of love. 

“I love you.” The enamored statement was simple, sweet and soft-sounding. So such so that Balan wasn’t sure Lance heard him, the negati was already snoring before he could say anymore. With an exhale, Balan’s eyes slipped shut once more. His own hands went around to hold Lance’s closer to his body. Their combined warmth radiating soothingly as they slept throughout the rest of the night.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Hii uhhh this is for mermay, but it's not one of the fills so please feel free to ignore this if it doesn't catch your interest!!

Idea;; within a mostly-canon setting, Duck is turned into a merperson (probably while they're trying to deal with one of the abominations, but that part's flexible) and has to deal with it while still trying to like,, function. He gets a magic disguise, but hijinks ensue.

Here you go! I attached this to "Summer rain" and another mermay prompt. It's SFW

The last time he went flying through the air and into the water while fighting an abomination, he almost died. So he’s none too pleased when he surfaces from being chucked in Lake Brahe.

“What the fuck Indrid?!”

“I’m so sorry” Mothman flaps above him, both sets of hands tapping together anxiously, “I promise this is for the best but I’ll admit the exact process might have been overkill.”

“You fuckin’ think??” Duck kicks towards shore, grabbing his hat as it tries to float away, “the others are still back there with that thing. And I fuckin hate bein’ chucked into things without warnin.”

“I don’t think there are people who do enjoy such things.” Indrid alights on the shore Duck is swimming towards.

“Well then don’t fuckin do them.”

“It is for your own good, Duck Newton.”

“Yeah, heard that one before.” He hits shallow water, wades to shore trying to shake his hat dry, “now c’mon, fly me back so we can-”

His legs crumple, sending him face first into the lake. Crawling is no good, his whole body contorting and shaking, his throat and lungs burning. He claws at the pebbles and sand, coming away with fistfuls, grabbing for something, anything, to pull him from the water, as if reaching shore will free him from the pain wracking his body.

The world is coming in photo negative now, flashes of color that don’t make sense, the crack of his bones filling his ears. He might he crying, the pain is too deep to tell what else he’s feeling or doing.

“Help” he rasps into the night air.

Human hands cup his face, guide his aching head down across bony legs, “It will not last much longer.”

“Am” he gasps, feels the Sylph turn their bodies for some unknown purpose, breathing easier after he does, “am I gonna die.”

“No. And before you ask, your powers would not have done much for you if you still had them.”

“Fuck” he whimpers.

“Agreed.” Indrid strokes his hair, “five more seconds. Four, three, two, one.”

Duck passes out before Indrid can say anything else. He’s roused by the footfalls of combat boots and wingtips down the beach.

“Duck, Indrid-OH HOLY SHIT!”

“He’s not-”

“No, Ned, he is very much alive. Had I not moved him when I did, he would have suffocated before you could get him to any water.”

“Thank god.” Ned must be by his head.

“Aubrey, can, can you, it hurts-”

“Ummmmm” His friend sounds like she’s trying to come up with a comforting explanation, “which part of your tail hurts?”

Duck sits bolt upright, then falls back into Indrid’s arms, staring at the deep green and silver tail where his legs should be.

“Well….fuck.”

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

“How are you doing?” Indrid, red glasses glinting and pink and yellow sweater hanging off his tall frame, perches on a rock.

“Great. I’m a regular, breakable dipshit who turned into a fuckin merman without warnin, I had to have Barclay call work and tell ‘em I got a flu so they won’t fire me for disppearin, anything my friends bring me to eat gets soggy, and I ain’t seen my cat in three days.”

“So...not good then?”

Duck raises an eyebrow. Indrid smiles, not his usual confident, casual one. He looks unsure, which is in and of itself kind of unnerving.

“No, Indrid. Not good at all.”

“Ah. Apologies, I sometimes have trouble parsing certain tones.”

Duck swims closer, “Sorry.”

“It’s quite alright. You have every reason to be angry and upset. Even with me.”

“Pretty sure you didn’t curse me.”

“No. But had I moved faster, gotten to you all sooner, you would not have been in it’s path at all.”

It’s so matter of fact. The same way Indrid talks about anything troubling.

“Certainly my most newsworthy failure”

“Had you not arrived at the cottonwood, it would have been rather bad for me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about the eye. It hurt, but I have felt far worse.”

“And I have yet more bad news; while I can make a charm that will allow you to be in your human form for up to six hours at a time, the properties of that abomination mean eventually you’ll have to return to water.”

There’s a flicker in the smile, so swift Duck wonders if it’s only because his eyes are no longer human, slit pupiled instead of round, that he sees it at all. Or if it’s because this is the first time they haven’t been surrounded by heat, noise, or danger.

“Indrid, you know I don’t blame you, right?”

“Of course, Duck. I was merely being thorough in my apology.” Now it’s his normal, wide smile, but too tight across his teeth.

“He was before my time.” Vincent grins as he sets the DVDs on a well-dusted shelf, “though if Woodbridge is anything like he is now, I doubt they got along. The other ministers say he was...determined when he left. Like he could conquer any challenge earth presented during his quest."

Indrid’s glasses slip down his nose and he pushes them up before Duck gets even a glance at his eyes, “Now, where did I put that pin…” He pats his pockets, freezes when Duck manages to set a hand on his shin.

“Indrid, I mean it. Didn’t blame you then, don’t blame you now. Hell, from the sound of it you saved my ass, big time. So, uh, what I’m tryin to say is thanks. For lookin out for me.”

He squeezes in what he hopes is a friendly fashion. Indrid chirps, once, face losing all trace of eeriness. Then he schools it back to normal.

“You’re welcome. Punching aside, I’m quite fond of you. I’m going to use this for your charm, if that’s alright.” A souvenir pin from the Monongahela's tenth anniversary sits between slender fingers.

“Holy shit, I been lookin for that for ages. I, uh, I try to-”

“Collect them, yes. I saw that in a conversation between you and Juno. I was going to give this to you anyway, goodness knows it took awhile to find it in the trailer, but now it can serve a greater purpose.” With that, he pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket. Duck’s image unfolds before them, Indrid smoothing it out and setting it on the rock as he begins working. Duck watches with interest, notices the process is much slower than it was when Indrid disguised Billy.

“Am I harder to get right than Ryan Gosling?”

“Yes. Well, not technically, no, but with Billy I just needed him to look human. I need you to look like, well, you. Such a fine specimen requires the utmost care.”

Duck’s about to toss back his usual line he gives to guys who compliment him, then realizes flirting with the Mothman might be weird, or that Indrid may not have meant it as anything more than some clinical, Sylph observation of humans. He tries to distract himself by swimming, but his tail still won’t do what he wants much of the time.

“You’ll have greater success on your back.” Indrid says without looking up.

He’s right, and Duck manages to swim without difficulty, tail shimmering in the sunset. The one time he glances at his friend, Indrid is staring at swaying and rippling in the water.

When the Sylph finally calls that he’s done, Duck speeds to the rock, let’s Indrid pin the charm to the collar of his undershirt that he keeps wearing because he’s still a human, dammit, just one with an inconvenient tail and he’s not gonna start skinny-dipping in a national forest. Again.

Duck flails when legs replace his tail, Indrid’s hand grabbing his a moment before he needs it to and helping him onto dry land.

“Satisfactory?”

“It’s fuckin perfect!”

“Wonderful!” Indrid claps his hands together, “what would you like to do? I may need to escort you for the first day, to be certain there’s no flaw in the charm.”

Duck studies the pink light tracing the angles of Indrid’s face, “Wanna meet my cat? She looks like a bobcat that lost a bar fight, but she’s sweet as can be.”

Indrid’s grin turns genuine for the first time all day, “I would like nothing better.”

The mothman becomes a staple of his life after that. With the charm, he’s able to help the Pine Guard track and slay the abomination, go to work, look after his house, and generally convince anyone not in the know that he’s totally fine. But he has to return to the lake every day, spends his mornings and nights there, even his lunch breaks when he knows he needs to give the charm a break then. It’s far enough away that he’s in no danger of being seen by civilians, but at least once Indrid had to fly him to it before they ran out of time (and Aubrey had to teleport them there, which made him nauseous).

Indrid keeps him company, sometimes with the others and sometimes on his own. He finds waterproof cards and games, listens to Duck talk about work and tells him about his travels. At first he worries Indrid is only doing it out of guilt, but as the weeks go by he comes to see that Indrid likes him. He laughs at his jokes, gives him as close to his full attention as he can, even scratches his scales with his mothed-out claws when they start driving Duck crazy with itchiness.

His friend always goes home to sleep, which is why, as Duck is drifting on his back, half snoozing and half star-gazing, the red eyes high in a tree come as a surprise. He’s on the other end of the lake, doesn’t seem to see Duck as he spreads his wings and flaps into the air. Then he nosedives, pulling up before he hits the water and then skimming across it in broad strokes. He shoots upward, spins, and then repeats the routine.

Duck’s seen him fly during fights and to escape the Cottonwood. Never like this, never so free and graceful. It’s such a joyful sight, makes Duck wish he had wings of his own so he could join him, dance across the stars and their reflections.

He swims towards Indrid, begins mirroring him on a whim, twisting, diving, and leaping as best he can in time with the cryptids flight. Pushes his tail to carry him faster, farther, all for the sake of keeping pace with the beautiful monster in the sky.

Surfacing after a particularly giant splash, a voice lilts down from the sky.

“Race you to the other side.”

Duck loses, but only just, cackles when Indrid buzzes him so closely he can feel the tickle of his feathers. When the mothman finally lands Duck swims to him, scooting up on land so he can watch Indrid fluff and clean his feathers.

“I come to this lake to practice flying without fear of being seen. I assumed you were asleep but, ah” his antenna twitch, “I’m glad you weren’t.”

Duck stretches, moans happily when Indrid gently glides his claws up his tail, “Me too.”

“Same time tomorrow night?” Soft hope flutters between them.

“Yeah.” He grins up at the cryptid, “bring your A-game, I’m gonna carb load tomorrow mornin so I can kick your butt.”

“I look forward to it.”

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

It’s been a month and a half since he transformed, which puts them smack in summer thunderstorm season. Duck’s used to it, though he’s more than a little nervous about what will happen if lightning hits the lake. Luckily, tonight it’s just soft summer rain instead of electricity and drops the size of robin eggs.

Indrid isn’t faring as well. The rain droops his antenna, compresses his fluff until Duck can see he’s still a twig under all those feathers. He shivers, chirrs in discomfort and shakes off his wings, but stays put on his favorite rock.

“There a reason you ain’t just turnin human? Could put on a raincoat that way.”

“I” Indrid sneezes, “I want you to feel comfortable. It can be so unpleasant, feeling like the only non-human in a place.”

Duck swims to the rock, flicking his tail up and down as he float, “You’re always changin form to make me comfortable.”

“Yes. Because I want you to not be unnerved by me.”

“But what about what you want?”

A feathery shrug, “That doesn’t matter.”

“Drid-”

Red eyes glare at him, “I am well aware of how I look, Duck. What people think of me. Would you have spent even a fraction of the time you have with me if your transformation had not forced it?”

“Y-fu-uh-I mean not no?” He sinks into the water as resignation becomes visible on Indrid’s inhuman features.

“I’m glad for our friendship, Duck. And I don’t doubt that you’re fond of me now. But please don’t pretend I was your first choice for company.”

“I mean...you weren’t. But that’s because we barely knew each other, hell, you only got back to town three months ago.” Duck takes the hand nearest him, “if this happened to me now? You might be the first person I’d want lookin out for me.”

Indrid chirrs, dips his head down to rub his cheek against Duck’s hand. Suddenly he wants nothing as badly as he wants to get Indrid warm and dry so he can run his fingers through every inch of those feathers.

“May I turn human?’

“Of course. Means you can come swimmin with me.”

Indrid, now in a tank top and yoga pants, cocks his head, “Why?”

“It’ll be fun?”

“My kind are not the strongest of swimmers.”

“Good thing I got a tail and gills, then. Besides, you’ll stop feelin as sticky from the humidity if you’re in the water.”

Indrid pulls off his shirt and pants, revealing duck-patterned boxers, and cautiously wades into the lake.

“Ooohhhh, that is so much better” his sighs, too blissed-out to notice the sudden drop, and only just manages to grab his glasses before going under. Duck zips forward, hoisting him easily into an embrace as he splutters.

“Blechhh, I despise the taste of lake water.” He clings to Duck, skinny legs teasingly tense around his tail.

Duck rubs his tail up and down his inner legs soothingly, “you, uh, want somethin to get rid of the taste?”

“Please.” Indrid smirks, clearly expecting a goof. When Duck tips his glasses up his forehead, he goes stone still.

“Can I kiss you?”

“This was not in any of the timelines.”

“Just came to me now. And that ain’t an answer.”

Indrid nods, tips his face forward to bring their lips together. Duck sighs, floats lazily backwards as Indrid slips his tongue between his lips. When they part, there are more stars in his eyes than in the whole milky way.

“Do you want some good news?” Indrid nuzzles his neck with an adorable trill.

“Lay it on me.”

“The futures just shifted; Aubrey and Janelle will have a cure for your condition tomorrow.”

“Hell yeah.” Duck flips them upright, Indrid “eeping” and holding tighter, “can’t wait to stop worryin’ about whether I’m gonna start suffocatin on land. And, uh” he nips Indrid’s lower lip, forgetting about his sharpened teeth until the Sylph lets out a little moan, “if you ain’t busy tomorrow night, like to take you on a date.”

Indrid beams, “I’d like that so very much. Though I will admit, I’m going to miss how this looks on you.” He squeezes his thighs around Duck’s tail.

“You can always whip me up one if we wanna, uh, relive the fun parts of this experience.”

“True. And with that in mind, my sweet; how do you feel about wings?”

[amaru2020]

Hey everyone! So this is a Raya and the Last Dragon fic co-written with my amazing friend @hazellevesque4life! Go check out their blog it’s awesome! It will also be available on their AO3 which I will link right here https://archiveofourown.org/works/30246006/chapters/74537121#workskin

don’t forget to leave plenty of kudos! We’ll try to update as often as possible! Now without further ado, let’s begin.

Chapters written by me, @amaru2020 will be marked like this 🟣

Chapters written by @hazellevesque4life will be marked like this 🔴

Summary: Raya and Namaari have to go on a road trip across kumandra to cure sisu's siblings of a curse

Cursed love

Chapter 1 🔴

“Namaari, I’ve been looking for you,” Virana called.

Namaari turned to face her mom, startled.

“Hi, Mom. I was just looking for Raya,” Namaari said.

Virana sighed. “You can find her later. First, walk with me.”

Namaari began to protest. She had to apologize to Raya for accidentally triggering an apocalypse.

But Virana stopped her before she could say anything. “I’m not saying you can’t talk to her, but this is more pressing.” She began walking.

She slipped her hand in her pocket and squeezed Raya’s golden hairband. It would be weird if she didn’t give it to Raya now. It might seem like she was trying to keep it. But her mom had just been turned to stone. And it would be horrible of her to not be there. Namaari released the hairband from her grasp. Namaari walked at the same pace as her mother.

“What did you need to talk about?” she asked.

“We need to head back to Fang.”

“What? We just got here. And Fang was destroyed by the Druun. Heart is the only place that has enough resources. We can’t go back yet.” Namaari hoped her mother didn’t think she was getting too riled up over this. But she still had things she needed to do here. Things she needed to tell Raya.

“That’s exactly why need to go back. Who do you think everyone is going to blame once the dust settles? We need to get ahead of the fray so that we aren’t reliant on Heart. We don’t know when they’ll turn on us. We need to rebuild so that we are strong when that happens.”

“But, shouldn’t we at least stay for a little while,” Namaari retorted, suddenly feeling anger swell up.

“We have to leave. To protect our people.”

And that was it. Her mother was the chief, and so her word was final.

Or it would’ve been. If Namaari hadn’t seen how the other had looked at her when the Druun cleared. After years of resentment, distrust, malice between everyone, there had finally been trust sent her way by people not from Fang. The last time she had seen that was when she was a child—again with Raya.

And even that hadn’t lasted long. Because of Fang’s need to protect themselves before anything. She wasn’t doing that again.

“No, Mom. We don’t have to leave. If you want to leave, I can’t stop you. But I’m staying here, trying to mend the bridges you burned.”

Virana looked at Namaari, contemplating. “Okay,” she said finally. “I trust you. But I’m not staying. If the other nations turn on us, I’m not having our people be helpless.”

Her mother was many things, but stupid was not one of them. If there was a way for her to make sure that Fang was self-sustaining while also keeping their relationship with the other nations, she would take it. None of them wanted conflict.

That calmed Namaari’s anger a little, but it didn’t completely soothe it. Her mother still expected conflict. She watched, wordlessly, as her mother turned and walked away.

Whatever. She couldn’t dwell on this. This was just more of a reason to go talk to Raya. Now if only she knew how to find Raya. Heart was weird, not like Fang at all. With its spiraling cityscape. Fang was contained on a much smaller piece of land, but Heart didn’t have that restriction. The buildings here were so much harder to navigate. Where would Raya be?

She thought back to the last time she was here. There was a huge central area, she recalled. Maybe Raya would be there, helping the people who had just arrived. Trying to use her foggy memories of the last time she was here, Namaari walked through the streets of Heart.

Finally, after too many confusing turns, Namaari found herself in front of the familiar hall where she and Raya had first bonded. The sounds of chatter echoes through the walls. So Namaari was right.

Taking a deep breath, she shoved the door open revealing people sprawled all over. And just like last time, it was people of all nations. This time, though, she noticed that more people were talking amongst people who weren’t from the same nation as they were. Namaari forced herself to stop thinking of that and to look for Raya.

She scanned the room, looking for Raya’s obnoxiously large hat. Her eye caught immediately: Raya, talking to her Ba.

Namaari stared at her, unsure of how she should talk to her when, mortifyingly, Raya looked up from her Ba. Their eyes met. Shit. Namaari lifted her hand in a small wave, trying to play it off as an accident.

Raya’s expression changed to —ugh— amusement. She motioned for Namaari to come over.

Mentally berating herself, Namaari walked towards Raya. She got a couple of curious glances from the other people of Fang.

“Hi, Raya,” Namaari said when she reached her.

“Hey! Are you okay? You were sort of staring at me from the doorway?” Raya was still looking down at her Ba, as she finished replacing the old bandages on his thigh with new ones where the crossbow bolt had hit him so many years ago. Namaari immediately felt a pang of guilt.

Oh, so she had noticed. “Yes. I’m fine.” Namaari refused to try to meet Raya’s eyes. “I, uh . . .” She what? Wanted to say she was sorry for telling Raya that Sisu’s almost-death had been her fault? Wanted to give back the golden hairband that she had kept like a creep? The words dissolved at her tongue. She and Raya hadn’t talked much since the Druun had been defeated. “Wanted to ask if you knew where Sisu was,” she lied.

“Oh,” Raya looked up. “I haven’t seen her all day actually. I’d check the clearing where her siblings were turned to stone the first time.”

Namaari wanted to shrink down. “I- I don’t know where that is.”

Surprisingly, Raya’s Ba spoke. “You should go with her.”

“But Ba, your leg-” Raya protested.

“Will be fine. It’s important to treat the other nations with respect.”

“. . . Okay,” Raya said, but the concern didn’t leave her face.

They walked together in complete silence. Namaari tried to keep track of the turns that they made so that she didn’t have to be led around like a child again, but Heart was too expansive that it was useless. She’d have to ask for a map or something.

Namaari was knocked out of her thoughts by Sisu’s voice.

“—Raya! I’m so glad you’re here, I was looking for you.” Panic laced Sisu’s voice.

Namaari sent Raya a concerned look. Raya glanced back at her. They spoke at the same time.”

“Sisu? What’s wrong?

“Are you okay?”

Sisu let out a strangled noise. “There’s something wrong with the other dragons!”

Chapter 2 🟣

Sisu gripped her tail with both paws as she began to pace, muttering things under her breath. “ “First Amba, then Pranee, now Jagan and Pengu…”

“The dragons? What do you mean there’s something wrong?” Raya said, finally finding her voice.

Sisu stopped to sit on her haunches. “I was hoping you could tell me! One minute they’re

normal, the next it’s like they didn’t even recognize their own sister!” She buried her head in her paws.

Raya and Namaari shared a worried look. Raya had never seen Sisu this distraught, which was cause for some concern. Raya felt Namaari give her a soft nudge before taking a couple of steps back. Raya raised an eyebrow over her shoulder in question, the only response she got was a gesture and look that could only be interpreted as ‘Not my place.’

Raya let out a small breath before cautiously beginning to approach the dragon. She tried to emulate the calm she had seen her Ba use many times in the past.

“Sisu... it’s ok, why don’t you just calm down and-“

Sisu’s head snapped up. “I’m calm, okay! It’s only my siblings turning into feral monsters, no big deal!”

Before she knew what was happening, Sisu had Raya dangling upside down from her leg, mere inches away from her furry snout. The whole situation gave Raya an intense feeling of déjà vu.

“I mean sure I did almost get attacked by my big brother today, but fine, let’s try it your way and stay, “calm.”” She used her free paw to make air quotes over the last word.

Raya only rolled her eyes. “Hey, at least I got you to speak in complete sentences.”

“That’s not the point!” Sisu said as she gave Raya a firm shake. Raya smirked and held up her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, but you need to still explain what’s going on. Can you do that?”

Sisu nodded.

“Good. Now put me down?” Raya asked as the blood had already rushed to her head.

“Right, Sorry.” Sisu said, chuckling sheepishly. She placed Raya gently on the ground, a nice change of pace from being dropped face first in her opinion.

Sisu frowned and picked up her tail and began to fiddle with it. Raya gave her an encouraging nod and touched the side of her neck, reminding the dragon she was there. This seemed to do the trick as Sisu finally began to open up.

“It all started with Amba, she’s usually so sweet and bubbly, she started to change. we thought it was just her having a hard time adjusting to being back after so long, and the stress of watching over Tail, but then when she attacked Jagan the other day, we knew it wasn’t that simple. then it slowly started happening to the others...” she trailed off, sounding remorseful.

Raya’s heart had dropped down to her stomach by the time Sisu finished her story. She had never heard of anything like this happening before. And for it to happen so soon after the Drunn wasn’t ideal. Raya rubbed her hand up and down were it was placed on Sisu’s neck at an attempt to comfort her.

“Don’t worry, Sisu. We’ll just let my Ba know what’s happening and I’m sure he’ll-”

“No!” Sisu yelped snapping out of her revere. She brought her head down so she could look directly into Raya’s eyes.

“No Ba! No people! No one can know about this!” “I know how tempting it is but we just can’t.” Sisu’s violet eyes bore into her own. Raya frowned. She wasn’t about to keep something this serious from her Ba. Especially not after all the time they had been apart. She tried to not let her annoyance seep through into her voice “Sisu, there’s no way we’re keeping this a secret. People, my Ba included, need to know what’s happening. They can help.”

Sisus' face turned indignant. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would want a repeat of the past six hundred years?”

Now it was Raya’s turn to look indignant. “How can you possibly compare the two when you don’t even know what’s going on?”

“You’re right, we don’t know what’s going on! Which is why we can’t say anything about it. Fear of the unknown is even worse than fear of the known!” Sisu said as she tugged at her mane.

“Sisu, I’m not keeping this from everyone, we’ve-!”

“Raya, doesn’t Heart have an archive or something

that might be able to help?” Namaari, who hadn’t said anything since they had arrived, interrupted..

Raya startled, nearly forgetting the other girl was there. She turned to face her.

“Well, yes but nobody is allowed inside. Sacred texts and all that.” Raya said.

“Except for the princess of Kumandra and her dragon and people friend?” Sisu asked, sounding more than a little hopeful. Raya shook her head. “Only the chief and the archivists are permitted to go inside. And besides, if I’m not allowed in, I doubt they’d let you two in. More so Namaari, no offense.”

Namaari gave a small shrug. “That’s fair.”

“Besides if we get caught, let’s just say I would probably never see either of you again.” Raya said.

“Then we won’t get caught.” Namaari nodded to Sisu. “And she’ll make sure of it.” Raya could practically see the gears turning in her head. They shared a look of understanding before looking back to the dragon, who was now looking a bit wary. And rightfully so.

“What? Why...are you two looking at me like that?”

[thatringboy]

The Way A Soul Lives (Part Two) - TWST

Requested by @yoruzumy0 that I continue This Story, so I hope you all enjoy! Angst is not something I’m very good at, but I got a lot of positive feedback from part one and it made me want to keep trying!

Word Count: 1,633

Warnings: Cursing, magic, blood mention, Character death, mentioned character death and the angst associated with that, implied relationships between characters

Silver sat on the stone pavement with his head in his hands while Lilia hugged him tight, his eyes widened and unmoving from shock. Malleus burst out of the castle with his large staff in hand and reached his companions. The prince stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the body on the ground and his eyes immediately went up to the stars, searching and scanning like the universe held the answers.

And for once, it did. Malleus had been looking at the wings of the dragon constellation for his fallen friend, but instead found the small star sitting peacefully next to his grandmother in the heavens, now protecting the Draconia family for the rest of eternity.

Despite the morbid situation, the comfort of knowing where Sebek’s final resting place was brought a small smile to his face. After all, what was death to the immortal?

~~~

Yuu had expected a mirror to gate them back to Night Raven College, not a singular Black Carriage to fit themself, Grim, Jack, Cater and Vil all into. Needless to say, they did not all fit.

Yuu wondered if this was some sort of punishment from Crowley for leaving and questioned if it was related to the feeling of dread still welling up inside of them. Magic had transported all of their luggage back to the school, but couldn’t transport them individually as well? The nerve that headmaster had!

Yuu would have complained if they could be heard over the complaining of their companions.

“You are sitting on my coat!”

“Well, you’re on my tail!”

“Guys move, I need a selfie to show my followers that I’m stuck here with you!”

“The Great Grim demands that you stop squishing me against the window!”

Yuu rolled their eyes and moved closer to the window to get away from Cater’s obsessive photo taking. They watched the Pyroxene countryside roll past the window and was taken aback about how snow could still be seen under evergreen trees despite it currently being the middle of Spring.

But the trip was not without faults. Every bump in the road jostled the Prefect and made them wonder if the bad feeling in their gut was about to become everyone else’s problem too. Thankfully, the Carriage passed through a gateway and was soon outside the front gates of Night Raven College.

The sight of the grand castle never ceased to take Yuu’s breath away and the view got their friends to momentarily stop complaining. Cater maneuvered himself in the carriage to snap a selfie that had a blurred image of Jack in the background, which got the sweet silence to break into arguing again.

When the carriage finally stopped and the doors opened, Yuu fell out and crashed into someone. They apologized profusely and felt someone stroke their head.

“Non non, forgive me for not being more careful.” Rook smiled down at them and helped them regain their balance.

Yuu stepped away from the third year and watched as he extended a hand to help Vil out of the carriage. The motion was graceful and Yuu wondered how Vil still looked so magnificent despite the commute. Jack ended up falling out of the carriage with Cater and Grim and the sight reminded Yuu of a clown car.

As their friends got to their feet, Yuu noticed that Rook was already in his uniform. “When did you get here, Rook-Senpai?”

The blonde spun around and tipped his hat. “I simply mirrored back to campus an hour ago.”

“Of course you did.” Yuu frowned and held out an arm for Grim to climb up on.

~~~

For someone with a slight case of narcolepsy, Silver didn’t sleep a minute. If anything, he purposefully made himself busy around the castle.

The image kept replaying in his mind as he cleaned Malleus’ room from the damage caused by the demon. The blood soaked stones, Lilia’s screams and the sound of Sebek slumping to the ground. It replayed in real time, slow motion and sped up. The scene was a bad record set on loop and every time he closed his eyes to try to silence the pounding of his head, the images became more pronounced and more intense.

It got so bad that he had to stop and sit down on Malleus’ half-burnt bed to keep himself from hyperventilating. He knew that Fae usually moved on quickly from death and didn’t typically mourn for long, but Sebek’s death was only a few hours ago and his caretakers had made themselves sparse almost immediately.

The sun coming up through the broken glass of the window made little refracted rainbows dance around the destroyed room. Silver saw the pleasant sight and thought of how the universe mocked him. Of course the sunrise after loosing his comrade would be beautiful, what else would it be? Sebek wasn’t a friend of his by any means - if anything they were bitter rivals - but the thought of going back to Night Raven College without the loud cabbage man made his heart sink further. Silver felt tears welling up in his eyes and moved to wipe them away.

“Glad to see you’re still as human as ever.” Malleus stood in the doorway with an exhausted face. Silver’s first instinct would have been to jump to attention, but his body didn’t move. Malleus came and sat next to him, glancing around the room as the sun came up more.

“Your father has been in the library all night trying to find the origin of that beast. I thought I told you to get some sleep, you need it more than us.”

Silver remained silent. What was he to say? He had left Sebek alone to defend the prince and took too long in fetching Lilia. The image of Sebek’s face before he plummeted out the window still burned in his mind. It was a face of determination and fierce loyalty only the Zigvolt boy could pull off. Malleus reached around the human and hugged him close. “Don’t over think this, none of this is remotely your fault.”

“But I could have--”

“We all could have done something differently. I could have stayed and fought instead of follow protocol. None of that matters now.” Malleus’ voice was barely audible. “What matters is how we move on.”

Silver pulled away. “Move on?! That was only five hours ago and you want to move on?!”

Malleus looked hurt. “No I--”

“I know that life isn’t such a big deal to fairies, but can we at least take a few days to mourn him?” he got up on his feet. “Sebek was by far your most loyal guard and you want to move on already? No, we will not stop mourning and we will not stop searching for who did this until I plunge my sword into their chest! I--”

Malleus was up and hugged Silver close. “I don’t want you to stop, I want you to slow down before you hurt yourself in the process. Revenge is a fickle thing; you think you want it, but what you really need is healing. And where does revenge stop? None of it will fill the hole inside of you.”

The soft voice of the prince made Silver tear up again as he hugged Malleus back.

“Alright, I’ll slow down, but only because you asked me to.”

“That is all I want of you now.”

~~~

Yuu braced themself for the running tackle from Epel and Ace and collapsed to the ground under their short friends, to the entertainment of Grim who just floated above the first years.

“Epel, Ace, I can’t breathe!” Yuu laughed.

“If you can talk, you can breathe.” Epel got up and helped Yuu to their feet. “So, how was the break?”

Yuu’s eyes widened and they began to retell their adventures in Pyroxene, the bad feeling in their gut subsiding for now. When they mentioned spending the week with the Howls, Epel’s mouth dropped open.

“So, what are they like? Jack’s parents?”

Ace elbowed the purple haired boy in the ribs. “Why do you need to know, lover boy?”

Epel turned red and crossed his arms. “Just curious, that’s all.”

Ace and Yuu snickered when Jack joined the small group and Epel flushed even more red. The five - including Grim - made their way inside the school and to the mirror hall where the other members of Heartslabyul that Yuu considered friends loitered. Deuce noticed his friend group and bowed to the dorm heads before making his way over.

“Ace, you shouldn’t just run off like that!”

Ace brushed him off. “Pssh, I was collecting the trash!”

“Trash? What trash?”

Yuu facepalmed and rolled their eyes. More mirrors lit up as more students returned from their breaks. A group from Scarabia chatted away about a new dance they learned, some Savanaclaw boys compared their fitness regimes from the break and Yuu swore they saw a few Ignihyde students slinging around brand new motorcycle licenses. Everyone was so happy to see each other and in that moment, Yuu forgot all about their sick feeling.

That is, until Jack tapped their shoulder and cleared his throat. “So, did any of you see the stars last night? I swore that a new one got added to the Draconia line.”

Deuce crossed his arms and nodded. “Yeah, I saw that.”

Yuu’s sick feeling hit them like a truck and they frowned. “Do you think it was someone we knew?”

Epel shook his head. “The chances of that are too slim, probably some distant cousin of someone we vaguely know.”

His certainty made Yuu feel better. The group continued to talk about something as Ortho approached them with a happy expression. He made the first years shriek when he removed his metal face plate and showed them his real mouth underneath.

Yuu’s attention was immediately drawn to a mirror in the corner of the room. They excused themself from the group and walked over to where Malleus, Silver and Lilia had appeared.

They looked dreadful. Lilia didn’t even bother to use his legs to lazily float around and his uniform was unkept, Silver’s eyes and cheeks were red from crying and Malleus’ had a distant look to him, like he wasn’t even there and his body was functioning on its own. Yuu smiled warmly at them. “Nice to see you three, how was your break?”

They clearly didn’t expect anyone to approach them as the three of them seemed to snap out of a trance. Lilia excused himself quickly and disappeared. Meanwhile, Silver remained glued to Malleus side. The prince looked down at Yuu with a sad smile. “It was... eventful.”

“I, uh, I saw the stars last night....” Yuu trailed off, seeing Silver’s face perk up sorrowfully.

“You did?” Malleus placed a hand on their shoulder. Yuu nodded.

“Then you know that tragedy has struck us.” Silver stood up straight.

Yuu looked around, noticing the unusual absence of the second guard. “Where’s Sebek?”

The single tear that rolled down Malleus’ face made Yuu want to throw up. They looked to Silver, but their eyes didn’t meet.

“You can’t be serious...” They whispered. Malleus suddenly hugged Yuu tightly and the Ramshackle student could hear his heart thumping loudly.

Yuu hugged back, feeling hot tears streak down their own cheeks. “W-What happened?!“

Silver opened his mouth to answer, but his voice became lost in his throat. By this time, Yuu’s other friends had noticed their disappearance and cautiously approached the Diasomnia students. Epel overcame his fear of the large Fae hugging his friend and spoke up. “Hey, where’s Sebek? Isn’t he glued to your hip or something?”

Silver glared at Epel, making him shrink away. Malleus let go and looked at the Pomfiore student with an apologetic face. “I am sorry, little one.”

Epel’s voice fell quiet and his eyes widened. “What?”

Yuu turned to their friends and saw the wave of realization hit them all at once. They wanted to curl up into a ball and cry and scream and wake up from this terrible dream, but all Yuu managed to do was look down at the ground. Their only comfort was the hand still on their shoulder.

~~~

“No... no, no, no no no no no...” Ace grabbed his forehead in disbelief.

“By the time I arrived on scene, both Sebek and the monster were already dead.” Silver crossed his arms and looked at his feet. Deuce cursed under his breath and kicked the ground.

“We’re still looking into how the demon could have been created and--”

“That’s not good enough!” Ace snapped at Silver. “You’ve got a killer out there and you’ve spent the first few hours looking at old books?!”

“Ace!” Jack looked appalled by his behaviour. Silver smiled weakly. “That’s what I said, too, but then I realized that we get no work done running on revenge as fuel.”

“You know, I’m getting tired of this philosophical bullshit.” Ace looked Malleus up and down. “You’re all powerful, get a tracking spell up and slap it on part of the monster’s magic that was left behind from the fight!”

Deuce punched him in the arm. “Please, just shut up!”

Malleus thought for a second. “You may be onto something....”

Ortho, who had stood in stunned silence the whole time, touched his chin. “Maybe you’re looking at the puzzle all wrong. When does anyone try to solve a maze puzzle by starting at the front? (Deuce, put your hand down, this isn’t the time) We find who made the demon and work our way backwards, like solving a riddle!”

“That’s how we deal with infestations at home. You find one bug and trace it back to the hive to eliminate them all.” Jack looked around.

Silver and Malleus stood there taken aback. They had spent every last possible minute until they needed to return to the campus pouring over books and contacting mages all over Twisted Wonderland and not one of them had thought of that.

The guard thought the idea over in his head and raised his eyebrows. “That would take several powerful users of magic to cast, but it could be done.”

Epel’s eyes perked up. “Well, we’ve got some of the most powerful wizards at this school, so let’s do it! For Sebek!”

Malleus let another tear roll down his cheek. Sebek had some truly amazing friends despite what the late guard would say about them. He chuckled, getting the attention of the first years. “Alright then, I’ll see what I can do.”

Jack scoffed. “Seriously? This isn’t all on you. C’mon guys, let’s see if we can find anything in the library! He wouldn’t want us to sit by and let Malleus-Senpai do all the work!”

“Yeah!” Deuce, Epel and Ortho agreed. Silver led the first years to the library with newfound energy, but Yuu and Ace hung back with Malleus.

The prefect looked between the young men. “You know, Sebek wouldn’t want anything but this. He’d be proud of their enthusiasm.”

Ace’s hands turned to tightly wrapped fists. “Yeah... it just hurts. A lot. He hasn’t even been gone a day and I already miss him.”

Malleus sighed. “That’s completely understandable. I suppose Faes don’t hold as much sentimental value over the death of our kin since we know we’ll see them again, but even so my heart aches with yours.”

Ace laughed, some tears spilling out of his eyes. “What did I just say about the philosophical crap?”

Malleus chuckled a bit. “I need to go to the headmaster’s office to inform him of the events of last night. Would you two care to join me?”

Ace and Yuu looked at one another. The prefect slipped their arm in the prince’s. “You need a new bodyguard anyways, so why not?”

The three left the mirror hall together, earning some shocked expressions from their classmates, but not really caring. Now wasn’t time for mourning over their lost friend, now was the time to take action and build each other up. Yuu was sure that the news of Sebek’s passing would be a shock to the student body, but deep down they knew that Sebek was still with them. Even if his spirit was in the stars.

After all, in the minds and hearts of others is the way a soul lives.

~~~

Cold...

I feel cold...

I can’t move...

I don’t remember anything...

What am I trying to remember?

His eyes opened in total darkness. He spun his head around frantically, trying to get a bearing of his surroundings, but discovered that he was simply floating in some sort of abyss.

“Well, you certainly slept like the dead.” A deep voice chuckled in his mind. His throat was dry and no sound came when he opened his mouth. Clammy hands seemed to take hold of his mind and hold his head still, looking forward at nothing.

“I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did, young man. It’s not every day someone of your age has the skills that you do.” The voice continued. “Seeing that you were not the original target, but still worth the effort we put into the operation, I’m sure we can make use of you here.”

“After all, service is in your nature. Isn’t it, Mr. Zigvolt?”

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch 13- Healthy Competition

Summary: Mary decides she wants to compete in her first horse riding competition, so the family take an outing and Frank gets a first-hand experience of the world Fliss once called her life.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  This is very Mary/horsey heavy so apologies in advance. 

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 12

October 2018

"Lissy, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Course you can sweetie." Fliss looked at Mary as she approached the sofa, Laptop in her arms. "Everything OK?”

"Yeah." Mary nodded, “Just before, some of the other girls at the yard were talking about a jumping competition in a few weeks and I was wondering…” She sat down, perching her laptop on her knees "Do you think maybe I could take Monty?"

"Do you wanna take him?" Fliss asked and Mary nodded. "Then of course you can"

"Really?" Mary's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, it's been ages since I went to a competition. It'll be fun!"

"I wasn't sure I would be good enough." Mary shrugged.

"Mary, Monty could do a jumping course with his eyes closed." Fliss smiled. “And you're plenty good enough. Besides, it doesn't matter anyway. It’s about enjoying yourself. I take it you got the website there?" She nodded to the laptop.

Mary grinned and opened it up. Fliss took it from her and quickly scanned the information. "FireAnt Farm Equestrian Centre, Tarpon Springs..." Fliss mused, quickly grabbing her phone to locate the area on Google maps.

"Is it too far?" Mary questioned.

"Nope." Fliss shook her head. "Probably take us forty minutes in the wagon. I used to travel much further."

"There's a lot of different classes to enter." Mary shuffled towards Fliss so she could see the screen too "I wasn't sure which one I would go in."

"I'd put you in the beginners class." Fliss replied as she read the details. "It's forty cm max height and you've jumped those plenty. And then why don't you try a few flat classes whilst we are there? The schedule doesn't look like they would clash."

"Flat class?" Mary frowned.” You mean like dressage?"

"Kinda, it’s about showing your pony off. You basically do a go round as a group in each pace on both reins and then you do a quick individual show. It’s easy, I used to do a simple figure of eight."

"Oh. Okay." Mary shrugged. "I never saw that before."

"Well, let's have a look." Fliss smiled, opening up a browser to YouTube. She flicked her eyes over to Alex who was fast asleep and then spent the next fifteen minutes or so showing Mary various videos of different kids showing classes on the Web.

"So Monty is a Welsh Pony." Fliss nodded.” Which means he doesn't need to be plaited, or braided, whatever. We turn him out true to type which means we just need to tidy his mane and tail up a bit. And as he's over fifteen he can go in the Pre-Veteran class. So they look at how he moves and performs for his age group. Why don't you do that which is the forth one in the morning and then do the junior rider. Then there's a long enough break before the beginners jumping."

"So I get to do three classes?" Mary grinned and Fliss nodded.

“Hey, it says here they're running a winter league." Fliss mused "Is that what you wanna do? Compete in the league or just the one off?"

"A league like they do for baseball or football?"

"Exactly that." Fliss nodded. "So you join up and it says here you get points immediately for just going in the class. They place to sixth position and award points. So you’d get ten points for finishing first, eight for second, six for third and so on. Then the person with the most points takes the Championship overall at the end."

 She pointed at the screen “Say’s here the first one is on 3rd November and they run to March next year, so there’s five overall. What do you think?”

Mary grinned “Bring it on!”

Fliss smiled as Mary gave her a hi-five.

“Why don’t you bring Bronson?” Mary asked, “Or Cap?”

Fliss shook her head. “It wouldn’t be fair on everyone there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I competed at a professional level” Fliss shrugged “It wouldn’t be very sporting of me if I entered a class full of hobbyists. I would have hated it when I was there myself. The only way I’d do it is if I went in and declared I was 'hors concours' or HC as it’s known.”

“Hors concours?” Mary repeated “What’s that?”

“It means that I’d be taking part without actually competing. So I might enter a competition to give a young horse experience or what-have-you but my marks would not be counted as such.”

“Bronson is only six.” Mary said “You said he had never done a jumping competition before.”

“He hasn’t.” Fliss pondered. “Maybe next season. This one we concentrate on you.”

Mary grinned and then Fliss turned her attention to what they needed to get her. They spent a bit of time looking at Tweed showing jackets, Mary deciding on the type of thing she liked before Fliss found a decent value second hand one on a local Equestrian Buy and Sell group on Facebook which Mary eagerly nodded at, the same seller also having a Navy Blue show-jumping jacket the same size.

“When you’re not growing so fast I’ll buy you brand new ones.” Fliss smiled, tapping in a message to the seller arranging to collect the items the following mornings. “So you have your DeNiro boots which we can polish, your short boots as well, you have a hat that will be ok, it should be velvet but for the time being it will do, so we need canary and white jodhs… a show shirt, a tie. I think we need to take a trip up to the Tack Shack tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes let’s!” Mary smiled “I have some of my pocket money saved, I can put that towards it.”

“Put what towards what?” Frank asked as he walked into the family room. He dropped a kiss to Fliss’ cheek and ruffled Mary’s hair, causing her to scowl up at him. “More horse riding crap?” he nodded to the screen of the laptop.

“It’s not crap, how dare you.” Fliss scoffed as Frank gave a chuckle. “We were talking about all the stuff Mary is going to need for her first competition in two weeks.”

At that Frank paused, looking at Mary. “You’re going to a competition?”

“Yah-hah.” She nodded and Frank smiled.

“That’s great Stack!”.

“I’m gonna do three classes. Two showing and one jumping.” She told him enthusiastically. “So we already sorted my jacket and Fliss is taking me to the Tack Shack tomorrow for the rest of it.”

“Why what else do you need?”

“Jodhpurs, a shirt and a tie.” Mary nodded reeling it off. “Oh and a new hat at some point but Fliss says the one that I have will do.”

“Why do you need another hat?”

“Well strictly speaking show hats should be velvet or suede.” Fliss shrugged “But for this level it won’t matter.”

“Sounds like another bashing my card is gonna take.” Frank grumbled good-naturedly and Fliss swatted at him. He chuckled again and stood up straight from where he had been leaning on the back of the couch, heading to the fridge to retrieve his standard post work beer.

“Can I wear the same tie for show-jumping and showing?” Mary asked.

“Hmmmm possibly. We can get two.” Fliss shrugged. “One that matches your tweed and then you can pick whatever you want colour wise for jumping. Have a look on the website, see if there’s anything you like.”

Mary grinned and took the lap top off Fliss who stood up, stretching slightly. She headed over to Frank, slipping her arms round his waist.

“She’s excited.” He stated, watching Mary as she tapped at the keyboard. His chest was warm at the utter delight on the young girl’s face as she was searching different coloured ties. “What sparked her wanting to do this?” “Someone at the yard. She overheard them talking and asked if she could go.” Fliss smiled. “She wants to do the Winter League” “They run a league?” “Yeah.” Fliss smiled “Five competitions in total. It’ll be good for her, a bit of healthy competition. I already managed to grab her two jackets. Both second hand but no point shelling out loads when she’s gonna grow out of them by the end of the season. Tweeds cost a fortune.”

“How much are the hats she was talking about?” Frank asked, taking a swig of his beer, his eyes flicking back to Mary then to Fliss.

“Erm, her size probably about eighty bucks, why?”

“Just get her one.” He smiled gently, dropping his voice “She never asks for stuff like this so…”

“You big softie.” Fliss smiled, standing on her toes to give him a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too. And thank you.” Frank gently, bumped his nose against hers.

“What for?” Fliss frowned.

“For this.” He nodded to Mary “Doing stuff that makes her excited and happy.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” Fliss looked at him, and then for the first time she noticed the look on his face. He was watching Mary, his eyes not quite as full of their usual sparkle. “Frankie, what’s wrong?”

He took a deep breath and looked at Mary “Hey Stack, have you spoken to grandmother this week?”

“Not yet.” Mary said “I was gonna later, why?”

“Why don’t you give her a call before dinner?” He suggested “You can tell her about your competition.”

“Okay.” Mary shrugged standing up “But if you wanted to talk in private you could just ask.”

“Fine, we wanna talk in private” Frank looked at her and Mary snorted as she stood up and looked at him.

“You forget I know you, Frank.”

“Oh, trust me I don’t.” He shot after her as she laughed, climbing the stairs.

Fliss turned to Frank as he sat down on one of the stools by the breakfast bar. “Honey, what is it?”

“I spoke to Greg before.” He looked at her as she moved to stand between his legs. “He still hasn’t heard back from her father about the adoption.”

“Okay.” Fliss dropped her hands to his shoulders as his rest on her hips “That doesn’t mean he’s gonna cause an issue.”

“No, but Greg’s twitchy, I can tell. I mean if the asshole wasn’t bothered about Mary surely we would have heard by now. It’s been almost eight weeks.” Frank wrinkled his nose.

“Baby there’s nothing we can do about it.” Fliss soothed “Yeah, if he protests it’s gonna be a little more agro than we thought but…well, we’ll just have to face it when it happens, ok?”

“I know I just…well I was hoping this would be done for Christmas, that’s all.”

“It might be yet, it’s not even November. Is there anything Greg can do?”

“He’s gonna send a chaser letter but other than that not really.” Frank shrugged before he sighed “I know you’re right, there’s nothing we can do but that doesn’t stop me worrying about it.”

“I know, because you love her. We both do. I’m worried as well but like you said to me, whatever happens we face it together.” She leaned down to give him a quick peck “Now, change of subject…you gonna come with us to the competition in a few weeks? Be nice for us all to go. Can be our first proper family outing.”

“Will there be beer?” Frank pondered, his hand sliding down the outside of her thighs and back up again.

“We can take a cool box” she smiled.

Frank chuckled “Of course I’ll come. Wouldn’t miss her first competition for the world.”

******

October ticked into November, bringing with it a slight drop in temperature and still no movement on the Adoption. However, Frank and Fliss had pushed it to the back of their minds which in the grand scheme of things wasn’t that hard as Mary’s excitement over her impending first competition was infectious.

When Fliss took her to the Tack Shack and told her that Frank said she could get a competition hat, Mary had almost cried, giving Fliss a huge hug but reserving the biggest hug of all for her Uncle when she got home. She’d paraded around the family room in her show gear, showing off her outfit for both Fliss, Frank and then again for Verity and Bill, and on a video call to Evelyn.

She practiced with Fliss or Joanne every day after school. They taught her the ring etiquette, how to talk to the judge and also set up a full course for her to practice on, Fliss teaching her all about how the first round was about getting clear and the jump off also introduced the element of time. Fliss felt an overwhelming sense of pride as the girl improved day by day and found herself actually believing that she’d do pretty well when the day came.

The afternoon before the show was spent with one final practice and then Mary had to give Monty a bath. Whilst he was drying off she then loaded the wagon with her jackets, cleaned her tack and then carried that to the wagon too where Fliss placed it in the tack locker, locking it up.

Frank was under the bonnet of said wagon, checking the oil and the coolant to make sure it was ready for the trip in the morning when he heard footsteps on the gravel and he looked up to see Mary hopping up the steps into the back of the wagon.

“What’s she checking now?” He looked over at Fliss, straightening himself up and reaching for the rag that was tucked in the back pocket of his dirty jeans. Fliss didn’t reply, she was too busy scanning Frank from head to toe, and making no attempt to even disguise the fact she was perving on him. “Earth to Lissy…”

“Yeah, sorry…what?” She asked, looking at him, biting her lip.

He snorted as he wiped his hands on the rag, shaking his head “And you call me a pervert.”

Fliss shrugged “I told you, the whole dirty mechanic things does stuff to me.”

“And the dirty mechanic will do stuff to you if you give him half a chance.” He grinned and she smirked, arching an eyebrow.

“You’ll corrupt our son.” She grinned, placing her hands over his ears, where he was positioned in the baby sling at her chest. “Mind you, he’s probably already scarred for life after your antics last night.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining.” Frank smirked. “Quite the opposite in fact.”

Fliss bit her lip a the memory of a particularly good round of sex the night before, which had resulted in her on all fours in the middle of the mattress. Looking at Frank she shrugged and he snorted, closing the bonnet of the wagon.

“All set.” He nodded towards it. “Oil topped up, coolant and water levels good…”

“So you didn’t find anything to fix, like I told you that you wouldn’t.”

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure it’s safe for my girls, it hasn’t been anywhere in a while.” He shrugged

“Joanne used it yesterday to go to the wholesalers for feed and shavings.” Fliss looked at him.

“Yeah, well…whatever, I make no apologies for wanting to check anyway.” He smiled, taking the kiss she offered.

Mary jumped down from the back of the wagon and reached up to lock the back door before she trotted round and handed Fliss the keys.

“You happy you got everything?” Frank looked at her. “Seeing as that’s like the five-hundredth time you checked.”

“Don’t exaggerate.” Mary rolled her eyes as Alex made a noise and the three of them looked at him before Mary pointed. “See, even he thinks you’re an idiot.”

“Rude.” Frank grumbled.

After one last check on Monty who was sparkling white (although Fliss knew they’d end up giving him another quick clean up in the morning), they headed home and after a quick shower Frank lit the BBQ outside. The family enjoyed a good grill for dinner, before Fliss disappeared upstairs and came back with a wrapped packaged. Frank frowned, as she handed it to Mary.

“Everyone needs one of those for competitions.” She smiled, as Mary looked at her, taking it gently.

“What is it?”

“Open it and see!” Fliss rolled her eyes as she sat back down on the seat, glancing at Frank who had Alex against his chest, his head resting on his shoulder.

Mary tore the wrapping paper off and gasped as she held up the pink gilet top. It had a small horse’s head embroidered on the front right hand breast but it was what was on the back that had caught her eye. She looked at it, then to Fliss and with a stunned smile turned it round so Frank could see. It was a motif of a horse jumping her fence with ‘Mary Adler’ arched over the top in gold, cursive writing and ‘Monte Carlo VI’- Monty’s show-name- underneath in the same typeface. Small diamantes were scattered around the entire design which caught the lights that were dotted around the garden and Frank’s face broke into a huge smile as Mary looked at him, then to Fliss.

“Sally has one of these for Jackson.” She whispered. “I always wanted one, how did you know?”

Fliss smiled “Sally’s mum told me you asked where she got it from. I thought I’d get you one. It’s a bit bigger so will fit over your jackets and a hoody if you need it to. You can wear it in the collecting ring and then take it off before you go in to do your shows and jumping.” “Lissy I love it, thank you so much!” Mary stood up and rounded the table to give Fliss a huge hug. Fliss kissed her head and cupped her cheek.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Well, come on.” Frank nodded to it. “Let’s see it on!”

Mary grinned and shrugged the gilet on over her jumper and beamed, giving them a twirl. Fliss told her to stand still and took a photo of the front and the back if it, before setting her phone down on the table.

After a little more chat, given the fact they had a busy day they all headed up to bed. Frank tucked Mary in before Fliss popped in to say goodnight, Thor jumping up onto Mary’s bed clearly deciding he was staying there for the evening with Fred. Fliss closed the door and made her way to the master bedroom where Frank was led on top of the bed in his boxers, Alex sleeping in the basinet as his dad flicked through the channels on the TV.

“How much did that gilet set you back?” he asked and Fliss wrinkled her nose.

“Does it matter?” “Not really.” Frank chuckled. “You spoil her.”

“So do you.” Fliss shrugged and pulled off her T-shirt and jeans before opening the door to the en-suite.

“But if it makes you feel better, I got a present for you too, Sailor.” She grinned, shedding her underwear and beckoning for him to follow her.

Frank blinked, smirked and jumped up off the bed, the pair of them giggling as he dispensed of his boxers and backed his future wife into the shower, shutting the cubicle door behind him.

*****

Fliss and Mary set off early the next morning, whilst Frank took a little more time making sure he had everything Alex needed before he headed out to his truck and keyed the location into his GPS. When he arrived he parked up, got Alex settled in the stroller and wandered down the yard. As he rounded the corner, he gave a blink, the place was packed with horses and people, all sorts of different competitions going on. After a little walk around he located their wagon and as luck would have it, Fliss and Mary were making their way back. He smiled, Mary was dressed in her older jodhpurs, and a hoody with her personalised gilet proudly donning her top half where-as Fliss looked every bit the cowgirl in her jeans, plaid shirt, cowboy boots and her hat.

“Hey!” She greeted him, giving him a quick kiss before she looked at Alex, her hand stroking his cheek.

“You all set?” Frank asked and Mary grinned.

“Yeah, we booked in, registered…I got my membership number...” she held up the laminated piece of paper with the digits 287 printed on “…and we got about 40 minutes until my first class.”

“So we need to get him off the wagon, quick bush down and then you can get on to warm up.” Fliss said, nodding to the ramp. Frank moved the stroller out of the way and he and Fliss undid the latches, dropping it down as Mary hopped up and undid he partition. She brought Monty down and set about undoing his travel boots and his tail bandage, taking his tail out of the braid before she hopped up to get her brushes.

“She’s like a coiled spring.” Fliss grinned, looking at Frank who chuckled.

“Yeah, she doesn’t do anything by halves.” He smiled, looking around “It’s busy.”

“First one of a season always is.” Fliss mused “There’s over twenty in her first class and 11 so far in her second. No idea about the jumping, I didn’t ask. I told her not to bother about it, as long as she enjoys herself…”

Frank smiled as Fliss gently touched his arm and set about helping Mary. Fifteen minutes later Monty was tacked up and Frank, from what little he knew about horses, had to admit they looked pretty smart. Her tweed was a dark green with a check pattern of brown and pinks, her show shirt was cream and the tie she was wearing was a green and pink striped one, matching perfectly. Fliss had braided Mary’s hair so it hung down her back and had secured it with a matching ribbon and as she jammed her new hat on she grinned at Frank.

“Looking good Stack” he smiled.

“Ok, ready?” Fliss asked.

Mary nodded and hopped up onto the small step at the back of the wagon, vaulting onto Monty, the pony simply standing still and observing his surroundings as if he did this every day.

Frank pushed the stroller as Fliss walked besides him, Mary slightly ahead as she made her way into the collecting ring. Fliss followed her in and Frank stood at the side, watching as Fliss made sure the girth on the saddle was tight enough before she nodded, spoke to Mary who also gave a nod and walked away from Fliss. Fliss stayed in the ring with her, gently giving her instructions, helping Mary to warm Monty in. And then Mary’s class was called. Fliss took the gilet off her before Mary looked over at Frank. He gave her a huge grin and a thumbs up and she smiled back before he saw her take a deep breath and follow another rider into the ring.

Fliss joined him and they made their way down a little so they could watch. Monty was easily the smallest pony in the class and Frank frowned.

“He looks tiny.” “He is only 14’2 hands high.” Fliss shrugged “But this is a veteran class, for horses fifteen and over. So they’ll look at how he moves, not how he looks next to the other horses.”

“Oh.” Franks shrugged, turning his attention to Mary, then the two women stood in the middle “Are they the judges?”

“The one in the hat is the judge.” Fliss said “The other is a steward. She basically shouts the instructions out and helps the judge.”

Frank watched as the woman instructed the group to trot on. They did a few laps around the ring before they set off into canter. Mary’s face was set in concentration as thy ride repeated the action on the opposite rein before they all lined up.

“Now they do their individual shows.” Fliss said, her eyes focussing on the action in the ring. “This is what Mary was practicing yesterday when you showed up.”

There were two horses before it was Mary’s turn. She walked Monty out of the line-up and stood him, perfectly square in front of the judge. She chatted to the woman who walked around Monty to take a look at him, before Mary set off to do her show. Frank glanced at Fliss and smiled as his girl was beaming with pride as Mary completed her show, foot (or hoof) perfect before she halted, saluted to the judge and then gave Monty a huge pat. She glanced over at Fliss who gave her a thumbs up, smiling.

All in all it took about forty minutes to work through the class, and once the last person had done they all set off in a walk as the judge was muttering something, her eyes flicking along the ponies. Eventually she nodded and the steward walked out, pointing to a large bay. A few people started clapping as the Bay moved inwards to take first place, and then next was a smaller chestnut and then she pointed at Mary.

“Fuck, Frank she got third!” Fliss almost exploded as she started to cheer, Frank giving a grin as he also clapped, Mary’s face split into a huge grin as she took her place. 4th, 5th and 6th were awarded, rosettes were handed out and then the placings took a lap of honour before exiting the ring.

“Well done!” Fliss beamed at Mary as she grinned, looking at her yellow rosette “3rd out of 20! Mary that’s amazing for your first go!”

Mary nodded, taking a deep breath, the tears filling her eyes “I’m so happy!” she spluttered and Frank gave a chuckle, looping his arm around her, giving Monty a pat.

But that was nothing compared to her reaction when she won second place in the next class she was in, the Junior Rider. Fliss really did explode at that point, and Mary burst into tears, the judge looking a little shocked before she smiled at Mary, handing her the blue rosette.

After they’d calmed Mary down, they untacked Monty as there was a little wait until the jumping started and Frank headed off to grab them a burger from the fast food van at the far end of the yard. They sat on the ramp of the wagon, Frank teasing Mary as usual, before they heard a little cough and all looked up.

“I’m really sorry to bother you.” A woman spoke shyly “But are you Fliss Gallagher.”

“Yeah.” Fliss smiled “Erm, hi.”

“My daughter…she’s a huge fan. She followed you and Charlotte DuJardin in the 2012s and she’s…well, she’s hiding over there because she wouldn’t come speak to you.” The woman bashfully admitted and Fliss felt her cheeks growing red.

“Oh…thanks.” She said, “Which one is she?”

“The blonde over there…”“Be back in a sec.” She smiled at Frank, standing up.

Frank looked at Mary, his mouth falling open “What just happened?”

“Fliss is a horse riding celebrity Frank.” Mary shrugged. “She was a huge star until her accident.”

Frank turned and watched as Fliss spoke to the teen who was clearly in awe, and then smiled and nodded when her mom waved her phone. She posed for a quick photo before she turned and started to walk back towards them.

“I feel kinda sorry for her in a way.” Mary sighed.

“How do you mean?” Frank looked at his niece.

“Well, imagine finally doing the job you always dreamed of…only to have it cut short like she did.” Mary spoke, her mouth full of burger “Half the show-jumping teams around the world have people in them that are in their sixties you know. Fliss was only 28.”

Frank pondered for a moment as Fliss approached, he hadn’t really thought about it from that point of view before, nor had he even considered for one second that Fliss might still be recognised. Either way, he felt a little warmth in his chest as she flopped back down next to him, reaching for the rest of her burger.

“Can I get an autograph?” he asked.

“Piss off.” She snorted as he laughed, dropping a kiss to her cheek.

Despite having enjoyed Mary’s flat shows, Frank did NOT enjoy the jumping. It scared the shit out of him. Fliss walked the course with Mary, now dressed in her jumping outfit of white breeches, navy jacket and a bright pink and blue sparkly tie as they examined the route she would take. And then far too soon in his opinion it was her turn to go in and he wasn’t sure he could watch.

“And entering the ring now we have Mary Adler riding Monte Carlo VI…” the announcer spoke on the tanoy as Mary trotted Monty in. The buzzer sounded and she picked up canter and pointed the pony at the first jump. Monty cleared it with ease and did the same with the 2nd, 3rd…all the way to the 11th leaving one to go.

“She clears this she’s in the jump off.” Fliss muttered. Frank took a deep breath, watching as Mary approached the small oxer and Monty took off. His back feet brushed the pole and Fliss held her breath, but thankfully despite rolling, it didn’t fall.

“Wait, that means she has to do that again, right?” Frank asked as Fliss clapped and cheered as Mary headed towards the gate to exit the field.

“Yeah, but not as many.” Fliss said, as she headed over to Mary.

Not as many, but twice as damned fast as Frank found out. The ponies where whizzing over the 5 jumps in the jump off, which were part of the course but not in order, the numbers being 2, 7, 5,9 and 8 the turns being tighter as the idea was still to go clear, but in the event more than one clear was achieved it went down to time.

The riders were in no order, and Mary decided to go a little further down the line so she could watch the others take the turns, a tactic Fliss suggested. By the time she was due to go in there were 5 clears already.

“Ok, so you’re gonna have to go for speed too.” Fliss said, looking at her “But the main thing is try and stay clear. If you want my advice, cut the corner between numbers 5 and 6. Everyone is looping round 6 to get to 9 but if you hang a right as soon as you’re over 5 you’ll have a few seconds off. Its tight, and he won’t have as many strides, probably 3 max, but let him take you ok?”

Mary nodded, swallowed and headed in. She took the first jumps easily and then after the 3rd did exactly what Fliss said. Monty put in an extra half stride, however, which threw Mary’s balance a little as he took off and for a horrible moment Frank thought she was going to fall but she didn’t, she regained her balance and turned, taking the last 2 jumps easily.

Mary secured 4th place in her jumping, the smile on her face was infectious and Frank found himself beaming along with them as they walked back to the wagon.

***** “Where’s Stack?” Frank asked as Fliss emerged into the room dropping the bag of Mary’s show clothing onto the sofa. Thor, who had been with Joanna whilst they had been out all day, flopped down onto the rug in front of the TV.

“She’s giving Monty some treats after he did so well today, and chewing Jo’s ear off about the competition. Jo said she’d watch her back over when she’s done.” Fliss smiled, reaching for Alex as he started to gripe “You hungry, Bean?”

Frank smiled as she settled on the sofa, undoing her shirt so she could feed him and he sat on the arm, looking down at her.

“She did so well today.” He said, “I never in a million years dreamed she’d be doing anything like this.” “Well, I did warn you the first time you walked onto my yard that once you have that horse smell on your hands, you’re hooked.”

“Don’t I know it?” Frank grinned, kissing her cheek.

A little while later, Fliss finished up feeding Alex and peered down at him, the baby gazing at her, waving his eyes, his lips curling up into a smile and Fliss laughed.

“He’s smiling again.” She said.

“Sure it’s not wind?” Frank teased.

“Err, no I just burped him.” Fliss scofed indignantly “They start smiling at 6 weeks, he’s smiling. I can tell.”

Frank chuckled and peered down, smiling at his baby and earning himself one back in return. He gently took him from Fliss so she could do up her top before he set him down and followed her into the kitchen where, upon examining the contents of the fridge, they settled on take out for dinner.

“So I know Mary did but did you enjoy it?” Frank asked as Fliss pulled a beer for them both out of the fridge.

“Yeah, yeah I did. You know, seeing it there, all those people competing…there’s nothing like that around here.”  “Got me thinking, maybe I could run something like that at some point down the line.” “Sandybrook Show huh?” Frank smiled as he popped the caps off their beers, settling down at the kitchen counter.

Fliss grinned “Yeah, it would be kind of cool to expand into stuff like that.” She took a drink “I’ve actually been giving it a bit of thought in general.”

“What, competitions?” Frank asked.

“No, expanding.” Fliss swallowed a mouthful of drink “The land at the back has always been available to me to buy, the old Farmer said he would give it to me whenever I want, and it would add another ten acres to the portfolio. I could grow the yard area, more stables, more grazing, hold events like that one today…” she trailed off, frowning as she noticed the look on Frank’s face. “What’s wrong? Don’t you think it’s a good idea?”

“No, I mean yeah, I do. We always talked about expanding your business.” He hesitated “I guess I didn’t realise it would be so soon.”

“What do you mean?” Fliss looked at him. “I’ve been up and running now for almost three years.”

“I mean after Alex being born.” Frank said, his eyes flicking to where his baby son was asleep in the basinet. “He’s barely ten weeks old Liss, don’t you think you’d be taking on too much?”

“I’d manage” she waved her hand “I could recruit more staff.”

 She could see from the look on Frank’s face he wasn’t convinced. She took a deep breath and turned in her seat so her body was facing his “Sailor,I can tell you’re not happy about the idea.”

 “It’s not that I’m not happy.” Frank shook his head, and that was the truth. The fact she had such drive and want to build something better was amazing, he loved it in her, but he was struggling to find the words to voice what he was feeling about it. “Ok, I’m…just gonna come out and say this and I don’t want you to fly off the handle…four weeks ago you were petrified of leaving Alex with your mom. You still don’t like being away from him now, and…”

“Of course I don’t like it.” Fliss frowned “I’m breast feeding him, and-“

“Exactly.” Frank looked at her “So you take on this extra work, what are you going to do? You wanna put him in Creche, find a Childminder?”

Fliss shrugged a little “Mum said she would have him but I don’t want to put that on her, not every day. Maybe two days a week and then I don’t have to be at the yard all the time. Joanne runs things now and I can just…”

Frank chuckled “I know you. Name me one day in your pregnancy that you didn’t pop in. You were teaching like almost until the day you dropped. And before you start I’m not saying that was a bad thing, far from it. You said yourself it kept you active and your brain engaged. I’m just saying there’s no way you’ll take a back seat. It’s bad enough trying to get you to stick to your Sundays off.”

“I know.” Fliss nodded “But that’s something I’ll have to get stricter at.”

 “Ok.” Frank took a deep breath “Whatever you say.”

 Fliss frowned “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

 “Dismiss what I said.”

“I wasn’t.” Frank shook his head.

“Yes you were, you just completely shrugged it off.”

“No.” Frank said, his voice remaining calm “I said whatever you say. If you say that’s what you’re gonna do then…”

“Don’t you want me to do this or something?” Fliss asked and Frank took a deep sigh.

“Liss, we literally just went over this. I never said I didn’t want you to do it. Quite the opposite. I just…well I think it’s too soon ok?” he looked at her “Alex isn’t sleeping through yet, you’re tired during the day as you tell me when I get home. Hell, I’m tired and my job is nowhere near as physically demanding as yours not to mention the fact I’m not the one feeding him and…” he licked his lips

“You fix boats.” Fliss looked at him, a little sullenly “That’s physical.”

“Not as much as I used to.” Frank shook his head “I’m based in the office a lot now, as you well know because you complain I don’t come home full of grease as much as I used to. We won’t mention the fact that I’m growing a little…how do I put this, softer round the edges now because of that, hence the weights in the garage”. He smiled, attempting to make a joke out of it as he could recognise only too well the look in her eye. It wasn’t full blown anger yet but if he didn’t cut the discussion off soon it was going to be. “Look...” he reached out and took her hand “We’re incredibly lucky. We’re in a position where you don’t need to rush back to work. My job pays well, your business brings you in a very decent turnover each month, we have savings…I just think that we should take advantage of that and you should take a few more months off, maybe look at going back in March, say. Take a full 6 off to be with him, enjoy being a mom.”

 “Is that what you want me to do?” Fliss asked after a moments pause.

“This isn’t about what I want.” Frank sighed, his tone now starting to betray his frustration. “I can’t and won’t stop you doing anything, you know this. I just want you to consider your options, that’s all.” Fliss took a deep breath, gave a nod and pushed her stool back, draining the rest of her beer. “Where you going?” Frank frowned.

 “For a shower.” She said simply “I need to get out of these jeans and this shirt.”

 Frank gave a groan “Why do you do this?” “Do what?”

“Every time we have a slight difference in opinion on something you clam up.” He looked at her “Let’s talk this through, Liss. Don’t walk away.”

“I’ve nothing else to say.” Fliss said, her voice ending in a little chuckle. “You’ve made your opinion on the matter very clear.”

“Yeah, and now I’m waiting to hear yours.”

 Fliss took a deep breath “I don’t wanna take six months off.”

“Ok.” Frank nodded “Then you don’t have to. I still think it’s too soon for you to be looking at expanding though.”

“I know what you think Frank, you told me.” Fliss shrugged “You don’t need to keep repeating yourself.”

“I keep repeating myself because you seem to be completely and utterly dismissing what I’m saying.” Frank looked at her.

“For fucks sake Frank.” Fliss looked at him. “Stop talking to me like I’m one of the kids.”

“Well to be honest, you’re doing a pretty good job of acting like one.” Frank looked at Fliss, his eyebrow raised as he felt his temper beginning to flare “And a petulant one at that.”

Fliss gave a chuckle of ironic laughter “Oh that’s rich, you calling me a petulant child. You’re the one kicking off because I’m refusing to entertain some stupid idea about taking 6 months off work”

“You know, a lot of women would kill to be in the position to be able to do that.” Frank looked at her and she shrugged.

“So?” she frowned “With the greatest of respects, I don’t care. Yes, I’m lucky. I get that but I don’t want to Frank!”

“And I’m not saying you have to! Jesus Christ!” Frank groaned “When did I, at any point in this discussion, ever say you have to stay at home huh? You tell me exactly when those words left my mouth….” Fliss looked at him, and blinked as her mouth closed and she swallowed. “See, you can’t because I didn’t say it!”

“Well, you might as well have.” She glared at him “You’re trying to control my decision about what I feel is right for me…”

“You think…” Frank cocked his head to one side, as he felt a flash of angry heat rush up his neck to his cheeks at her words. His temper was really brewing now, the angry knot in his stomach growing tighter by the second. “You think I’m trying to control you?”

“Well aren’t you?”

“God damnit Lissy!” Frank’s voice was loud as he stood up from his chair, “You’re downright infuriating at times. No, that’s not what I’m doing. At all. What I’m doing is trying to have a sensible discussion with you.”

“Well I don’t want to discuss it anymore.” Fliss’s voice raised “So, like I said. I’m going for a shower. Or would you like to discuss that as well.”

“Oh for fucks sake…” Frank groaned his hands rubbing his face as he let out a frustrated noise, shaking his head. “You know what, I give in. Do what you want. Shower, buy more land, work, don’t work…just…whatever.”  

Fliss shot Frank a glare, and then a small noise from the basinet jerked them both out of the stare-down and Fliss headed over to pick him up. Turning she made for the door, baby in her arms.

“What are you doing?” Frank asked.

“Going for a shower, like I just said.”

“Well leave him with me.” Frank frowned, “What’s the point of taking him upstairs just to lay him in the crib whilst you shower?”

“Because I want to take him with me.” Fliss looked at Frank. “I can leave the door open. I like him being there. Is it a problem?”

Frank snorted, his hands on his hips as he looked at his feet “No problem.” He huffed out a little laugh as he raised his face to look at her “But you tell me you’re ready to go back to work when you can’t bear to be apart for the ten minutes it takes you to shower.”

Fliss’ face fell and Frank felt a pang of guilt at what he had said, but in his mind it was true. She hated leaving him, and he didn’t want her to be in a position where she felt she needed to, whether it was to prove something to herself or everyone else. He’d never tell her this but he loved the homely feel of coming home and his future wife and baby son both waiting for him, either on the sofa or the sun lounger. It was a wonderful, caring, passionate environment that he’d never had before and if he was brutally honest he’d quite happily see her at home until Alex was back in school. She didn’t need to work, but she wanted to, he got that. And he would never stop her. But the fact was she was still on edge about their son being left with people and he could almost picture the melt down she was going to have if she rushed back.

“Fuck you” Fliss seethed at him, drawing him out of his thoughts as Alex began to cry, clearly picking up the vibes in the room. Frank sighed, shaking his head as Fliss began to soothe him

“Lissy, just…”

But she didn’t stay to listen, instead she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, Alex’s little whimpers dying in his ears as she made her way up the stairs.

The argument made for a tense family dinner. They both tried their best to be normal, talking to Mary about her day, not wanting to but a dampener on it but as ever she was sharp. When Frank tucked her in, she asked him about it and he assured her there was nothing to worry about and that it was a silly disagreement which would be forgotten in the morning.

He hoped.

Fliss didn’t really speak to him much the rest of the evening, taking herself to bed early and she was flat out when he came up a little later. With a sigh he gently brushed the hair off her cheek before he kissed her temple and settled down himself.

He woke in the middle of the night, and still half asleep reached out to Fliss’ side of the bed but she wasn’t there. He sat up, blinking and then saw that Alex’s bedside crib was empty too. Frowning, he climbed out of bed and as he headed downstairs he could head soft baby cries from the family room.  

“Hey, everything okay?” Frank asked, opening the door and looking at Fliss as she was stood by the large window seat, gently rocking Alex as she tried to calm him.

“Yeah he’s grouchy.” She said, “I’ve fed him, he’s been changed…” “Want me to take him?” He offered and she shook her head.

"It’s fine Frank, I got him. I mean, that is what you wanted isn’t it? Me, being a good little wifey-to-be and mummy, right?"

Frank blinked before he gave a groan “Really, do we have to do this now?” he sighed, shaking his head. “I never said that, at all.”

“What it sounded like to me.” “How would you know?” He looked at her “You were so focussed on your position that you didn’t listen to a damned word I said. Because if you had you would have understood my point of view instead of accusing me of trying to control you.” He took a deep breath “When are you going to get it into your head that I am not your shit bag ex?”

“I didn’t say that.” Fliss looked at him, shaking her head

“But you thought it.” Frank eyed her “I could see it on your face.”

“There you go again, presuming you know what I’m thinking.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes, you are.” Fliss looked at him “What I was actually thinking was how shit it was you couldn’t just support me with what I wanted to do.” “Baby, I do support you, and I’ll back you with whatever you want to do, but I’m not gonna lie to you and say I’m happy about something when I’m not.” Frank shook his head.

“How can you back me when you don’t agree with what I want?”

“Because that’s what being together is about.” Frank looked at her “It doesn’t matter what I think…” “It matters to me.” Frank let out a groan “We’re going round in circles…” he shook his head as Alex’s screaming grew louder “Look, why don’t you let me take him? You go get some rest, we can talk about this later.” “I said I got him its fine.” Fliss shook her.

“Oh for fucks- just let me help will you?”

“Go back to bed Frank.” Fliss blazed it him in the dim light of the family room, her brown eyes angry “You have work in the morning, I don’t. Remember?”

He words themselves were innocuous, but the sheer sarcastic way she said them wasn’t. Frank felt the weary anger from their earlier argument which he had been fighting so hard to keep buried, slowly seeping back into his veins. He’d tried to explain his point of view, over and over again but she was being too fucking stubborn to even attempt to see it through his eyes. As he watched her cradling their sobbing son to her chest he didn't have the energy to keep going round and round in circles, not at 3 in the morning anyway. So instead he gave into the frustration he was feeling, and shot a stinging barb, one simple word spoken with exasperation as he shook his head and turned to leave the room. "Bitch"

**** Chapter 14

[salandition]

Sneak-it

Request from Ao3:  Hey, I was wondering if I could maybe make a request for an insert with Leon? Maybe after a match Leon is just getting ready to head out when a little Nickit shows up and swipes his hat. Naturally the lil pokemon runs off with it and Leon will follow where he eventually runs into Reader who is one of the staff working at the stadium! Reader’s job is typically to clean up any stands and find lost items to put into lost and found, and their Nickit helps them!

Pairing: Leon/Reader

---

Leon was, by all means, minding his own business. 

Being the Champion meant almost the opposite of what it entails. No one could beat him in battle, so because of that- battling him was nearly impossible. It was a double edged sword- the impossible is impossible to reach, so it stays impossible. 

It was a bunch of nonsense that Leon didn’t really agree with and disregarded half the time. If people happened to find him while he was trekking the Wild Area and propositioned a battle, he usually accepted more often than not, even though he technically wasn’t supposed to. Because what if they beat him? With no cameras to show the proof?

Leon had the word Champion printed on him for a reason, though. So that never happened. But his lawyers and chairman Rose weren’t too happy with his attitude. 

So that’s why it’s always nice when a challenger does make it to Wyndon Stadium. A proper battle for Leon that wouldn’t give him disapproving looks! Finally. 

It’s a thrill to fight, though the ending stays the same. Leon used a total of three Pokemon before the challenger had been beaten, and gave the kid a handshake and grin as he thanked him for the battle. And then Leon went off to the locker area- despite the fact that he isn’t battling, he was still a bit worn out from barking out orders and running around all day, so he figures he’ll get changed and head home for the day using the back roads so no one will bother him. 

That was the plan. But right after Leon had gotten dressed, he turned around to grab his bag and hat- but that was the problem. Out of seemingly nowhere, a Nickit had appeared in his changing room. 

Which was odd, because how on earth had it done that? Nickit’s were known for being sneaky, though. Leon dumbly watches as the Pokemon runs around his room, takes the snapback lying on the floor between it’s teeth, and then dashes out of the room. 

It just stole his hat. 

“Wh- hey!” Leon finally moves into action, scrambling forward to follow the Nickit out of his room. He sees a flash of red disappear around a corner, and as quick as he can, Leon dashes after it. “Little Nickit! That’s mine, you know!” He uselessly yells at it. 

The Pokemon, unsurprisingly, is rather fast. Though it’s body is small and it’s legs are short, it certainly gives Leon a workout as he runs after the thing all around the stadium. 

Eventually the Pokemon runs through open doors where the bleachers are located, and Leon curses under his breath as he tries to run a little faster. Finding that thing between the bleachers isn’t going to be easy. 

But it’s actually easy. 

As soon as Leon comes bustling through the doorway, he sees the Nickit ahead, standing proudly on one of the seats, stolen-snapback in it’s mouth. It twirls around on the seat several times joyfully, and Leon is a little confused- until a head pops up from the bleachers. 

Huh?

“Nickit! You found something? A hat?” The Nickit bounces up and down and the stranger sits up from the floor, taking the hat out of it’s mouth. “That’s no good. Someone will definitely be wanting this back. Thanks for finding it, Nickit!”

Leon awkwardly coughs, crossing his arms around his chest, and the stranger’s head snaps up to look at him. 

And then they anxiously stand up, his snapback still in their hand as they wipe the dust and dirt off their pants. “O-oh! Uh, sir champion? I didn’t know you stayed at the stadium this late!” 

Despite how he’s kind of catching his breath from chasing what is assumingly their Nickit around, he laughs. “Just Leon is fine, no need for any flashy titles. I honestly wasn’t planning to stay late, but,” he points at the hat, “you seem to have something of mine.”

The person stands there, staring at him as the wheels start to turn in their head. They look down at the hat, then back at him, then at the still-very-proud Nickit. 

They gasp. “I’m so sorry! Nickit, did you steal something again?” They wag an accusing finger at the Pokemon, who doesn’t look very sorry as it just stares smugly at Leon, who raises an eyebrow in return. “I told you that you can’t do that! If you want to be out of your pokeball it’s to help me, not steal things from others.” It turns around. “Are you listening?” It hops off the bleacher and walks off- but not far, thankfully. It looks like the stealing escapades are over for the night, and the Nickit owner sighs tiredly as they turn back to Leon. “I’m really sorry, sir- uh- Leon. He has a habit of making trouble when he’s actually just trying to help,” they hand Leon the cap and he gratefully takes it, wiping off the Pokemon spit before placing it snugly on his head. 

“That’s alright- I’m fairly familiar with sneaky Pokemon.” He has quite a few himself, after all. “What’s he helping with, though?” 

They gesture at the stadium with their hand. “It’s my job to clean up when everyone leaves, and look around the bleacher’s for any lost items so they get put in the Lost-and-Found. Nickit will help me sometimes, but other times he wanders off if he gets too excited.” They deflate a little bit as they look around anxiously, hands fumbling together. “I’m really, really sorry he stole your hat. I can- um- give you the number of my boss if you want, so you can tell him it was ___ who ruined your night.” 

Leon shakes his head. “I’m not going to rat you out,” he smiles at how the now-named ___ lights up at that, “besides, I don’t really blame him. My hat was on the floor, after all.”

“Oh, that’s good! I was worried he’d taken it right off your head, and that really doesn’t sound like him!” ___ bows their head just a bit. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

“Not a problem!” Leon waves off the apology yet again. “Thank you for your hard work. Have a good night- and you too, little Nickit!” He looks toward the Pokemon, who looks over when he’s acknowledged and just barely waves his tail at the champion. Leon laughs- oddly cute for a little thief, isn’t he? 

“Yes, you too! Uh, have a good night!” 

So Leon heads home after that, snapback on his head and bag on his shoulders, but now that it’s dark out he doesn’t have to use the back roads as he heads toward his house. During his walk, he takes a deep whiff of the night air and appreciates the chill on his cheeks- he really doesn’t take night walks that often. He wonders what it’s like to work late, like that ___ does.

Maybe he’ll stay later another day and talk to them again sometime. Who knows? They were kind of cute, especially when they were flustering around. Sir Champion they had called him- he snorts, amused at the memory.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On Ch 13: Healthy Competition

Summary: Mary decides she wants to compete in her first horse riding cotest, so the family take an outing and Frank gets a first-hand experience of the world Fliss once called her life.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  This is very Mary/horsey heavy so apologies in advance. Thank you to @southerngracela​ and @icanfeelastormbrewing​ for the beta reading and ideas. 

Chapter Song: It’s My Life by Bon Jovi 

Series Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist

My heart is like an open highway, like Frankie said I did it my way. I just want to live while I'm alive

 October 2018

"Lissy, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Course you can sweetie." Fliss looked at Mary as she approached the sofa, Laptop in her arms. "Everything OK?” "Yeah." Mary nodded, “Just before, some of the other girls at the yard were talking about a jumping competition in a few weeks and I was wondering..." she sat down, perching her laptop on her knees "Do you think maybe I could take Monty?" "Do you wanna take him?" Fliss asked and Mary nodded. "Then of course you can" "Really?" Mary's eyes lit up. "Yeah, it's been ages since I went to a competition. It'll be fun!" "I wasn't sure I would be good enough." Mary shrugged. "Mary, Monty could do a jumping course with his eyes closed." Fliss smiled "and you're plenty good enough. Besides, it doesn't matter anyway. It’s about enjoying yourself. I take it you got the website there?" She nodded to the laptop. Mary grinned and opened it up. Fliss took it from her and quickly scanned the information. "FireAnt Farm Equestrian Centre, Tarpon Springs..." Fliss mused, quickly grabbing her phone to locate the area on Google maps. "Is it too far?" Mary questioned. "Nope." Fliss shook her head. "Probably take us 40 minutes in the wagon. I used to travel much further." "There's a lot of different classes to enter." Mary said, shuffling towards Fliss so she could see the screen too "I wasn't sure which one I would go in." "I'd put you in the beginners class." Fliss said "It's 40cm max height and you've jumped those plenty. And then....why don't you try a few flat classes whilst we are there? The schedule doesn't look like they would clash..." "Flat class?" Mary frowned "like dressage?" "Kinda, it’s about showing your pony off. You basically do a go round as a group in each pace on both reins and then you do a quick individual show. It’s easy, I used to do a simple figure of 8." "Oh. OK." Mary shrugged. "I never saw that before." "Well, let's have a look." Fliss smiled, opening up a browser to YouTube. She flicked her eyes over to Alex who was fast asleep and then spent the next 15 minutes or so showing Mary various videos of different kids showing classes on the Web. "So Monty is a Welsh Pony." Fliss said "so he doesn't need to be plaited…or braided, whatever. We turn him out true to type which means we just need to tidy his mane and tail up a bit. And as he's over 15 he can go in the Pre-Veteran class. So they look at how he moves and performs for his age group. Why don't you do that which is the 4th one in the morning and then do the junior rider. Then there's a long enough break before the beginners jumping." "So I get to do 3 classes?" Mary grinned and Fliss nodded. “Hey, it says here they're running a winter league." Fliss mused "Is that what you wanna do? Compete in the league or just the one off?" "A league like with baseball or football?" "Exactly that." Fliss nodded. "So you join up and it says here you get points immediately for just going in the class. They place to 6th position and award points according with the highest being 12 to first. Then the person with the moat points takes the Championship overall at the end."

She pointed at the screen “Say’s here the first one is on 3rd November and they run to March next year, so there’s 5 overall. What do you think?” Mary grinned “Bring it on!”

Fliss smiled as Mary gave her a hi-five.

“Why don’t you bring Bronson?” Mary asked, “Or Cap?” Fliss shook her head. “It wouldn’t be fair on everyone there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I competed at a professional level” Fliss shrugged “It wouldn’t be very sporting of me if I entered a class full of hobbyists. I would have hated it when I was there myself. The only way I’d do it is if I went in and declared I was 'hors concours' or HC as it’s known.”

“Hors concours?” Mary repeated “What’s that?”

“It means that I’d be taking part without actually competing. So I might enter a competition to give a young horse experience or what-have-you but my marks would not be counted as such.”

 “Bronson is only 6.” Mary said “You said he had never done a jumping competition before.” “He hasn’t.” Fliss said, pondering “Maybe another time. This one we concentrate on you.”

Mary grinned and then Fliss turned her attention to what they needed to get her. They spent a bit of time looking at Tweed showing jackets, Mary deciding on the type of thing she liked before Fliss found a decent value second hand one on a local Equestrian Buy and Sell group on Facebook which Mary eagerly nodded at, the same seller also having a Navy Blue show-jumping jacket the same size.

“When you’re not growing so fast I’ll buy you brand new ones.” Fliss smiled, tapping in a message to the seller arranging to collect the items the following mornings. “So you have your DeNiro boots which we can polish, your short boots as well,  you have a hat that will be ok, it should be velvet but for the time being it will do...so we need canary and white jodhs… a show shirt, a tie…shall we take a trip up to the Tack Shack tomorrow?”

“Yes please!” Mary smiled “I have some of my pocket money saved, I can put that towards it.” “Put what towards what?” Frank asked as he walked into the family room. He dropped a kiss to Fliss cheek and ruffled Mary’s hair, causing her to scowl up at him. “More horse riding crap?” he nodded to the screen of the laptop.

“Mary is going to do her first competition in 2 weeks so we’re kitting her out.” Fliss smiled. Frank looked at her, then to Mary and smiled.

“That so?”

Mary nodded “I’m gonna do 3 classes. 2 showing and one jumping. So we already sorted my jacket and Fliss is taking me to the Tack Shack tomorrow for the rest of it.” “Why what else do you need?” “Jodhpurs, a shirt and a tie.” Mary nodded reeling it off. “Oh and a new hat at some point but Fliss says the one that I have will do…”

“Why do you need another hat?” Frank asked.

“Well strictly speaking show hats should be velvet or suede.” Fliss shrugged “But for this level it won’t matter.”

“Sounds like another bashing my card is gonna take.” Frank grumbled good-naturedly and Fliss swatted at him. He chuckled again and stood up straight from where he had been leaning on the back of the couch, heading to the fridge to retrieve his standard post work beer.

“Can I wear the same tie for show-jumping and showing?” Mary asked.

“Hmmmm possibly. We can get 2.” Fliss said. “One that matches your tweed and then you can pick whatever you want colour wise for jumping. Have a look on the website, see if there’s anything you like.”

Mary grinned and took the lap top off Fliss who stood up, stretching slightly. She headed over to Frank, slipping her arms round his waist.

“She’s excited.” He stated, watching Mary as she tapped at the keyboard. His chest was warm at the utter delight on the young girl’s face as she was searching different coloured ties. “What sparked her wanting to do this?” “Someone at the yard. She overheard them talking and asked if she could go.” Fliss smiled “She wants to do the Winter League” “They run a league?” “Yeah.” Fliss smiled “5 competitions in total. It’ll be good for her, a bit of healthy competition. I already managed to grab her 2 jackets. Both second hand but no point shelling out loads when she’s gonna grow out of them by the end of the season. Tweeds cost a fortune.”

“How much are the hats she was talking about?” he asked, taking a swig of his beer.

“Erm, her size probably about eighty bucks, why?” “Just get her one.” He said gently, dropping his voice “She never asks for stuff like this so…” “You big softie.” Fliss smiled, standing on her toes to give him a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too. And thank you.” Frank said gently, bumping his nose against hers.

“What for?” Fliss frowned.

“For this.” He nodded to Mary “Doing stuff that makes her excited and happy.” “You don’t need to thank me.” Fliss looked at him, and then for the first time she noticed the look on his face. He was watching Mary, his eyes not quite as full of their usual sparkle. “Frankie, what’s wrong?”

He took a deep breath and looked at Mary “Hey Stack, have you spoken to Evelyn this week?”

“Not yet.” Mary said “I was gonna later, why?”

“Why don’t you give her a call before dinner?” he suggested “You can tell her about your competition.” “Ok.” Mary shrugged standing up “But if you wanted to talk in private you could just ask.” “Ok I’m asking, scoot.”

She stood up and looked at him “You forget I know you Frank.”

“Oh, trust me I don’t.” he shot after her as she laughed, climbing the stairs.

Fliss turned to Frank as he sat down on one of the stools by the breakfast bar. “Honey, what is it?”

“I spoke to Greg before.” He looked at her as she moved to stand between his legs. “He still hasn’t heard back from her father about the adoption.”

“Ok.” Fliss dropped her hands to his shoulders as his rest on her hips “That doesn’t mean he’s gonna cause an issue.”

“No, but Greg’s twitchy, I can tell. I mean if the asshole wasn’t bothered about Mary surely we would have heard by now. It’s been almost 8 weeks.” Frank wrinkled his nose. “Baby there’s nothing we can do about it.” Fliss soothed “Yeah, if he protests it’s gonna be a little more agro than we thought but…well, we’ll just have to face it when it happens, ok?” “I know I just…well I was hoping this would be done for Christmas, that’s all.” “It might be yet, it’s not even November. Is there anything Greg can do?”

“He’s gonna send a chaser letter but other than that not really.” Frank shrugged before he sighed “I know you’re right, there’s nothing we can do but that doesn’t stop me worrying about it.”

“I know, because you love her. We both do. I’m worried as well but like you said to me, whatever happens we face it together.” She leaned down to give him a quick peck “Now, change of subject…you gonna come with us to the competition in a few weeks? Be nice for us all to go. Can be our first proper family outing.” “Will there be beer?” Frank pondered, his hand sliding down the outside of her thighs and back up again.

“Take a cool box” she smiled

Frank chuckled “Of course I’ll come. Wouldn’t miss her first competition for the world.”

******

October ticked into November, bringing with it a slight drop in temperature and still no movement on the Adoption. However, Frank and Fliss had pushed it to the back of their minds which in the grand scheme of things wasn’t that hard as Mary’s excitement over her impending first competition was infectious.

When Fliss took her to the Tack Shack and told her that Frank said she could get a competition hat, Mary had almost cried, giving Fliss a huge hug but reserving the biggest hug of all for her Uncle when she got home. She’d paraded around the family room in her show gear, showing off her outfit for both Fliss, Frank and then again for Verity and Bill, and on a video call to Evelyn.

She practiced with Fliss or Joanne every day after school. They taught her the ring etiquette, how to talk to the judge and also set up a full course for her to practice on, Fliss teaching her all about how the first round was about getting clear and the jump off also introduced the element of time. Fliss felt an overwhelming sense of pride as the girl improved day by day and found herself actually believing that she’d do pretty well when the day came.

The afternoon before the show was spent with one final practice and then Mary had to give Monty a bath. Whilst he was drying off she then loaded the wagon with her jackets, cleaned her tack and then carried that to the wagon too where Fliss placed it in the tack locker, locking it up.

Frank was under the bonnet of said wagon, checking the oil and the coolant to make sure it was ready for the trip in the morning when he heard footsteps on the gravel and he looked up to see Mary hopping up the steps into the back of the wagon.

“What’s she checking now?” he looked over at Fliss, straightening himself up and reaching for the rag that was tucked in the back pocket of his dirty jeans. Fliss didn’t reply, she was too busy scanning Frank from head to toe, and making no attempt to even disguise the fact she was blatantly eyeing him up “Earth to Lissy…” “Yeah, sorry…what?” she asked, looking at him, biting her lip.

He snorted as he wiped his hands on the rag, shaking his head “And you call me a pervert.” Fliss shrugged “I told you, the whole dirty mechanic things does stuff to me.”

“He will do stuff to you give him half a chance.” He grinned and she smirked, arching an eyebrow.

“You’ll corrupt our son.” She said, placing her hands over his ears, where he was positioned in the baby sling at her chest. “Mind you, he’s probably already scarred for life after your antics last night…” “Didn’t hear you complaining.” Frank smirked, “Quite the opposite in fact.” Fliss bit her lip a the memory of a particularly good round of sex the night before, which had resulted in her on all fours in the middle of the mattress. Looking at Frank she shrugged and he snorted, closing the bonnet of the wagon “All set.” He nodded towards it. “Oil topped up, coolant and water levels good…”

“So you didn’t find anything to fix, like I told you that you wouldn’t.” “Hey, I just wanted to make sure it’s safe for my girls, it hasn’t been anywhere in a while.” He shrugged

“Joanne used it yesterday to go to the wholesalers for feed and shavings.” Fliss looked at him.

“Yeah, well…whatever, I make no apologies for wanting to check anyway.” He smiled, taking the kiss she offered.

Mary jumped down from the back of the wagon and reached up to lock the back door before she trotted round and handed Fliss the keys.

“You happy you got everything?” Frank looked at her “Seeing as that’s like the five-hundredth time you checked.” “Don’t exaggerate.” Mary rolled her eyes as Alex made a noise and the 3 of them looked at him before Mary pointed “see, even he thinks you’re an idiot.”

“Rude.” Frank grumbled. After one last check on Monty who was sparkling white (Although Fliss knew they’d end up giving him another quick clean up in the morning) they headed home and after a quick shower Frank lit the BBQ outside. The family enjoyed a good grill for dinner, before Fliss disappeared upstairs and came back with a wrapped packaged. Frank frowned, as she handed it to Mary.

“Everyone needs one of those for competitions.” She smiled, as Mary looked at her, taking it gently.

“What is it?”

“Open it and see!” Fliss rolled her eyes as she sat back down on the seat, glancing at Frank who had Alex against his chest, his head resting on his shoulder.

Mary tore the wrapping paper off and gasped as she held up the pink gilet top. It had the Sandybrook Stables logo embroidered on the front right hand breast but it was what was on the back that had caught her eye. She looked at it, then to Fliss and with a stunned smile turned it round so Frank could see. It was a motif of a horse jumping her fence with ‘Mary Adler’ arched over the top in gold, cursive writing and ‘Monte Carlo VI’- Monty’s show-name- underneath in the same typeface. Small diamantes were scattered around the entire design which caught the lights that were dotted around the garden and Frank’s face broke into a huge smile as Mary looked at him, then to Fliss.

“Sally has one of these for Jackson…” she whispered “I always wanted one, how did you know?”

Fliss smiled “Sally’s mum told me you asked where she got it from. I thought I’d get you one. It’s a bit bigger so will fit over your jackets and a hoody if you need it to. You can wear it in the collecting ring and then take it off before you go in to do your shows and jumping.” “Lissy I love it, thank you so much!” Mary stood up and rounded the table to give Fliss a huge hug. Fliss kissed her head and cupped her cheek.

“You’re welcome sweetheart.” “Well, come on…” Frank nodded to it, “Let’s see it on!”

Mary grinned and shrugged the gilet on over her jumper and beamed, giving them a twirl. Fliss told her to stand still and took a photo of the front and the back if it, before setting her phone down on the table.

After a little more chat, given the fact they had a busy day they all headed up to bed. Frank tucked Mary in before Fliss popped in to say goodnight, Thor jumping up onto Mary’s bed clearly deciding he was staying there for the evening with Fred. Fliss closed the door and made her way to the master bedroom where Frank was led on top of the bed in his boxers, Alex sleeping in the basinet as his dad flicked through the channels on the TV.

“How much did that gilet set you back?” he asked and Fliss wrinkled her nose.

“I put t it through the account on company expenses as Sponsorship.” she shrugged. “I’m gonna order her a jacket and a hoody for Christmas.”

 Frank chuckled “You spoil her.”

“So do you.” Fliss shrugged and pulled off her T-shirt and jeans before opening the door to the en-suite.

“But if it makes you feel better, I got a present for you too, sailor…” she grinned, shedding her underwear and beckoning for him to follow her.

Frank blinked, smirked and jumped up off the bed, the pair of them giggling as he dispensed of his boxers and backed his future wife into the shower, shutting the cubicle door behind him.

*****

Fliss and Mary set off early the next morning, whilst Frank took a little more time making sure he had everything Alex needed before he headed out to his truck and keyed the location into his GPS. When he arrived he parked up, got Alex settled in the stroller and wandered down the yard. As he rounded the corner, he gave a blink, the place was packed with horses and people, all sorts of different competitions going on. After a little walk around he located their wagon and as luck would have it, Fliss and Mary were making their way back. He smiled, Mary was dressed in her older jodhpurs, and a hoody with her personalised gilet proudly donning her top half where-as Fliss looked every bit the cowgirl in her jeans, plaid shirt, cowboy boots and her hat.

“Hey!” She greeted him, giving him a quick kiss before she looked at Alex, her hand stroking his cheek.

“You all set?” Frank asked and Mary grinned.

“Yeah, we booked in, registered…I got my membership number...” she held up the laminated piece of paper with the digits 287 printed on “…and we got about 40 minutes until my first class.” “So we need to get him off the wagon, quick bush down and then you can get on to warm up.” Fliss said, nodding to the ramp. Frank moved the stroller out of the way and he and Fliss undid the latches, dropping it down as Mary hopped up and undid he partition. She brought Monty down and set about undoing his travel boots and his tail bandage, taking his tail out of the braid before she hopped up to get her brushes.

“She’s like a coiled spring.” Fliss grinned, looking at Frank who chuckled.

“Yeah, she doesn’t do anything by halves.” He smiled, looking around “It’s busy.” “First one of a season always is.” Fliss mused “There’s over 20 in her first class and 11 so far in her second. No idea about the jumping, I didn’t ask. I told her not to bother about it, as long as she enjoys herself…”

Frank smiled as Fliss gently touched his arm and set about helping Mary. 20 minutes later Monty was tacked up and Frank, from what little he knew about horses, had to admit they looked pretty smart. Her tweed was a dark green with a check pattern of brown and pinks, her show shirt was cream and the tie she was wearing was a green and pink striped one, matching perfectly. Fliss had braided Mary’s hair so it hung down her back and had secured it with a matching ribbon and as she jammed her new hat on she grinned at Frank.

“Looking good Stack” he smiled.

“Ok, ready?” Fliss asked.

Mary nodded and hopped up onto the small step at the back of the wagon, vaulting onto Monty, the pony simply standing still and observing his surroundings as if he did this every day.

Frank pushed the stroller as Fliss walked besides him, Mary slightly ahead as she made her way into the collecting ring. Fliss followed her in and Frank stood at the side, watching as Fliss made sure the girth on the saddle was tight enough before she nodded, spoke to Mary who also gave a nod and walked away from Fliss. Fliss stayed in the ring with her, gently giving her instructions, helping Mary to warm Monty in. And then Mary’s class was called. Fliss took the gilet off her before Mary looked over at Frank. He gave her a huge grin and a thumbs up and she smiled back before he saw her take a deep breath and follow another rider into the ring.

Fliss joined him and they made their way down a little so they could watch. Monty was easily the smallest pony in the class and Frank frowned.

“He looks tiny.” “He is only 14’2 hands high.” Fliss shrugged “But this is a veteran class, for horses over 15. So they’ll look at how he moves, not how he looks next to the other horses.”

“Oh.” Franks shrugged, turning his attention to Mary, then the two women stood in the middle “Are they the judges?”

“One is, the one in the hat.” Fliss said “The other is a steward. She basically shouts the instructions out and helps the judge.” Frank watched as the woman instructed the group to trot on. They did a few laps around the ring before they set off into canter. Mary’s face was set in concentration as thy ride repeated the action on the opposite rein before they all lined up.

“Now they do their individual shows.” Fliss said, her eyes focussing on the action in the ring. “This is what Mary was practicing yesterday when you showed up.” There were two horses before it was Mary’s turn. She walked Monty out of the line-up and stood him, perfectly square in front of the judge. She chatted to the woman who walked around Monty to take a look at him, before Mary set off to do her show. Frank glanced at Fliss and smiled as his girl was beaming with pride as Mary completed her show, foot (or hoof) perfect before she halted, saluted to the judge and then gave Monty a huge pat. She glanced over at Fliss who gave her a thumbs up, smiling.

All in all it took about 30 minutes to work through the class, and once the last person had done they all set off in a walk as the judge was muttering something, her eyes flicking along the ponies. Eventually she nodded and the steward walked out, pointing to a large bay. A few people started clapping as the Bay moved inwards to take first place, and then next was a smaller chestnut and then she pointed at Mary.

“Fuck, Frank she got third!” Fliss almost exploded as she started to cheer, Frank giving a grin as he also clapped, Mary’s face split into a huge grin as she took her place. 4th, 5th and 6th were awarded, rosettes were handed out and then the placings took a lap of honour before exiting the ring.

“Well done!” Fliss beamed at Mary as she grinned, looking at her yellow rosette “3rd out of 20! Mary that’s amazing for your first go!”

Mary nodded, taking a deep breath, the tears filling her eyes “I’m so happy!” she spluttered and Frank gave a chuckle, looping his arm around her, giving Monty a pat.

But that was nothing compared to her reaction when she won second place in the next class she was in, the Junior Rider. Fliss really did explode at that point, and Mary burst into tears, the judge looking a little shocked before she smiled at Mary, handing her the blue rosette.

After they’d calmed Mary down, they untacked Monty as there was a little wait until the jumping started and Frank headed off to grab them a burger from the fast food van at the far end of the yard. They sat on the ramp of the wagon, Frank teasing Mary as usual, before they heard a little cough and all looked up.

“I’m really sorry…” A woman spoke shyly “But are you Fliss Gallagher.” “Yeah.” Fliss smiled “Erm, hi.” “My daughter…she’s a huge fan. She followed all of the US team but you and Charlotte DuJardin from Team GB really hooked her in the 2012s and she’s…well, she’s hiding over there because she wouldn’t come speak to you.” The woman bashfully admitted and Fliss felt her cheeks growing red.

“Oh…thanks.” She said, “Which one is she?”

“The blonde over there…”

“Be back in a sec.” She smiled at Frank, standing up.

Frank looked at Mary, his mouth falling open “What just happened?” “Fliss is a horse riding celebrity Frank.” Mary shrugged. “She was a huge star until her accident.”

Frank turned and watched as Fliss spoke to the teen who was clearly in awe, and then smiled and nodded when her mom waved her phone. She posed for a quick photo before she turned and started to walk back towards them.

“I feel kinda sorry for her in a way.” Mary sighed.

“How do you mean?” Frank looked at his niece.

“Well, imagine finally doing the thing you always dreamed of, what you worked your whole life towards only to have it cut short.” Mary spoke, her mouth full of burger “Half the show-jumping teams around the world have people in them that are in their sixties you know. Fliss was only 28.”

Frank pondered for a moment as Fliss approached, he hadn’t really thought about it from that point of view before, nor had he even considered for one second that Fliss might still be recognised. Either way, he felt a little warmth in his chest as she flopped back down next to him, reaching for the rest of her burger.

“Can I get an autograph?” he asked.

“Piss off.” Fliss snorted as he laughed, dropping a kiss to her cheek.

Despite having enjoyed Mary’s flat shows, Frank did NOT enjoy the jumping. It scared the shit out of him. Fliss walked the course with Mary, now dressed in her jumping outfit of white breeches, navy jacket and a bright pink and blue sparkly tie as they examined the route she would take. And then far too soon in his opinion it was her turn to go in and he wasn’t sure he could watch.

“And entering the ring now we have Mary Adler riding Monte Carlo VI…” the announcer spoke on the tanoy as Mary trotted Monty in. The buzzer sounded and she picked up canter and pointed the pony at the first jump. Monty cleared it with ease and did the same with the 2nd, 3rd…all the way to the 11th leaving one to go.

“She clears this she’s in the jump off.” Fliss muttered. Frank took a deep breath, watching as Mary approached the small oxer and Monty took off. His back feet brushed the pole and Fliss held her breath, but thankfully despite rolling, it didn’t fall.

“Wait, that means she has to do that again?” Frank asked as Fliss clapped and cheered as Mary headed towards the gate to exit the field.

“Yeah, but not as many.” Fliss replied as she headed over to Mary.

Not as many, but twice as damned fast as Frank found out. The ponies where whizzing over the 5 jumps in the jump off, which were part of the course but not in order, the numbers being 2, 7, 5,9 and 8 the turns being tighter as the idea was still to go clear, but in the event more than one clear was achieved it went down to time.

The riders were in no order, and Mary decided to go a little further down the line so she could watch the others take the turns, a tactic Fliss suggested. By the time she was due to go in there were 5 clears already.

“Ok, so you’re gonna have to go for speed too.” Fliss said, looking at her “But the main thing is try and stay clear. If you want my advice, cut the corner between numbers 5 and 6. Everyone is looping round 6 to get to 9 but if you hang a right as soon as you’re over 5 you’ll have a few seconds off. Its tight, and he won’t have as many strides, probably 3 max, but let him take you ok?”

Mary nodded, swallowed and headed in. She took the first jumps easily and then after the 3rd did exactly what Fliss said. Monty put in an extra half stride, however, which threw Mary’s balance a little as he took off and for a horrible moment Frank thought she was going to fall but she didn’t, she regained her balance and turned, taking the last 2 jumps easily.

Mary secured 4th place in her jumping, the smile on her face was infectious and Frank found himself beaming along with them as they walked back to the wagon.

***** “Where’s Stack?” Frank asked as Fliss emerged into the room dropping the bag of Mary’s show clothing onto the sofa. Thor, who had been with Joanna whilst they had been out all day, flopped down onto the rug in front of the TV.

“She’s giving Monty some treats after he did so well today, and chewing Jo’s ear off about the competition. Jo said she’d watch her back over when she’s done.” Fliss smiled, reaching for Alex as he started to gripe “You hungry baby?”

Frank smiled as she settled on the sofa, undoing her shirt so she could feed him and he sat on the arm, looking down at her.

“She did so well today.” He said, “I never in a million years dreamed she’d be doing anything like this.” “Well, I did warn you the first time you walked onto my yard that once you have that horse smell on your hands, you’re hooked.” “Don’t I know it?” Frank grinned, kissing her cheek.

A little while later, Fliss finished up feeding Alex and peered down at him, the baby gazing at her, waving his eyes, his lips curling up into a smile and Fliss laughed.

“He’s smiling again.” She said.

“Sure it’s not wind?” Frank teased. “Err, no I just burped him.” Fliss said indignantly “They start smiling at 6 weeks, he’s smiling. I can tell.”

Frank chuckled and peered down, smiling at his baby and earning himself one back in return. He gently took him from Fliss so she could do up her top before he set him down and followed her into the kitchen where, upon examining the contents of the fridge, they settled on take out for dinner.

“So I know Mary did but did you enjoy it?” Frank asked as Fliss pulled a beer for them both out of the fridge.

“Yeah, yeah I did. You know, seeing it there, all those people competing…there’s nothing like that around here.”  “Got me thinking, maybe I could run something like that at some point down the line.” “Sandybrook Show huh?” Frank smiled as he popped the caps off their beers, settling down at the kitchen counter.

Fliss grinned “Yeah, it would be kind of cool to expand into stuff like that.” She took a drink “I’ve actually been giving it a bit of thought in general.” “What, competitions?” Frank asked

“No, expanding.” Fliss swallowed a mouthful of drink “The land at the back has always been available to me to buy, the old Farmer said he would give it to me whenever I want, and it would add another 10 acres to the portfolio. I could grow the yard area, more stables, more grazing, hold events like that one today…” she trailed off, frowning as she noticed the look on Frank’s face. “What’s wrong? Don’t you think it’s a good idea?”

“No, I mean yeah, I do. We always talked about expanding your business.” He hesitated “I guess I didn’t realise it would be so soon.” “What do you mean?” Fliss looked at him. “I’ve been up and running now for over 3 years.”

“I mean after Alex being born.” Frank said, his eyes flicking to where his baby son was asleep in the basinet. “He’s barely 10 weeks old Liss, don’t you think you’d be taking on too much?” “I’d manage” she waved her hand “I could recruit more staff.”

She could see from the look on Frank’s face he wasn’t convinced. She took a deep breath and turned in her seat so her body was facing his “Sailor,I can tell you’re not happy about the idea.”

“It’s not that I’m not happy.” Frank shook his head, and that was the truth. The fact she had such drive and want to build something better was amazing, he loved it in her, but he was struggling to find the words to voice what he was feeling about it. “Ok, I’m…just gonna come out and say this and I don’t want you to fly off the handle…4 weeks ago you were petrified of leaving Alex with your mom. You still don’t like being away from him now, and…” “Of course I don’t like it.” Fliss frowned “I’m breast feeding him, and-“ “Exactly.” Frank looked at her “So you take on this extra work, what are you going to do? You wanna put him in Creche, find a Childminder?”

Fliss shrugged a little “Mum said she would have him but I don’t want to put that on her, not every day. Maybe 2 days a week and then I don’t have to be at the yard all the time. Joanne runs things now and I can just…” Frank chuckled “I know you. Name me one day in your pregnancy that you didn’t pop in. You were teaching like almost until the day you dropped. And before you start I’m not saying that was a bad thing, far from it. You said yourself it kept you active and your brain engaged. I’m just saying there’s no way you’ll take a back seat. It’s bad enough trying to get you to stick to your Sundays off.” “I know.” Fliss nodded “But that’s something I’ll have to get stricter at.”

“Ok.” Frank took a deep breath “Whatever you say.”

Fliss frowned “Don’t do that.” “Do what?”

“Dismiss what I said.” “I wasn’t.” Frank shook his head.

“Yes you were, you just completely shrugged it off.” “No.” Frank said, his voice remaining calm “I said whatever you say. If you say that’s what you’re gonna do then…”

“Don’t you want me to do this or something?” Fliss asked and Frank took a deep sigh.

“Liss, we literally just went over this. I never said I didn’t want you to do it. Quite the opposite. I just…well I think it’s too soon ok?” he looked at her “Alex isn’t sleeping through yet, you’re tired during the day as you tell me when I get home. Hell, I’m tired and my job is nowhere near as physically demanding as yours not to mention the fact I’m not the one feeding him and…” he licked his lips

“You fix boats.” Fliss looked at him, a little sullenly “That’s physical…” “Not as much as I used to.” Frank shook his head “I’m based in the office a lot now, as you well know because you complain I don’t come home full of grease as much as I used to. We won’t mention the fact that I’m growing a little…how do I put this, softer round the edges now because of that, hence the weights in the garage”. He smiled, attempting to make a joke out of it as he could recognise only too well the look in her eye. It wasn’t full blown anger yet but if he didn’t cut the discussion off soon it was going to be. “Look...” he reached out and took her hand “We’re incredibly lucky. We’re in a position where you don’t need to rush back to work. My job pays well, your business brings you in a very decent turnover each month, we have savings…I just think that we should take advantage of that and you should take a few more months off, maybe look at going back in March, say. Take a full 6 off to be with him, enjoy being a mom.”

“Is that what you want me to do?” Fliss asked after a moments pause.

“This isn’t about what I want.” Frank sighed, his tone now starting to betray his frustration. “I can’t and won’t stop you doing anything, you know this. I just want you to consider your options, that’s all.” Fliss took a deep breath, gave a nod and pushed her stool back, draining the rest of her beer. “Where you going?” Frank frowned.

“For a shower.” She said simply “I need to get out of these jeans and this shirt.”

Frank gave a groan “Why do you do this?” “Do what?”

“Every time we have a slight difference in opinion on something you clam up.” He looked at her “Let’s talk this through, Liss. Don’t walk away.” “I’ve nothing else to say.” Fliss said, her voice ending in a little chuckle. “You’ve made your opinion on the matter very clear.” “Yeah, and now I’m waiting to hear yours.”

Fliss took a deep breath “I don’t wanna take 6 months off.”

“Ok.” Frank nodded “Then you don’t have to. I still think it’s too soon for you to be looking at expanding though.”

“I know what you think Frank, you told me.” Fliss shrugged “You don’t need to keep repeating yourself.” “I keep repeating myself because you seem to be completely and utterly dismissing what I’m saying.” Frank looked at her.

“For fucks sake Frank.” Fliss looked at him. “Stop talking to me like I’m one of the kids.”

“Well you’re doing a pretty good job of acting like one.” Frank looked at Fliss, his eyebrow raised as he felt his temper beginning to flare “And a petulant one at that.”

Fliss gave a chuckle of ironic laughter “Oh that’s rich, you calling me a petulant child. You’re the one kicking off because I’m refusing to entertain some stupid idea about taking 6 months off work”

“You know, a lot of women would kill to be in the position to be able to do that.” Frank looked at her and she shrugged.

“So?” she frowned “With the greatest of respects, I don’t care. Yes, I’m lucky. I get that but I don’t want to Frank!” “And I’m not saying you have to! Jesus Christ!” Frank groaned “When did I, at any point in this discussion, ever say you have to stay at home huh? You tell me exactly when those words left my mouth….” Fliss looked at him, and blinked as her mouth closed and she swallowed. “See, you can’t because I didn’t say it!”

“Well, you might as well have.” She glared at him “You’re trying to control my decision about what I feel is right for me…”

“You think…” Frank cocked his head to one side, as he felt a flash of angry heat rush up his neck to his cheeks at her words. His temper was really brewing now, the angry knot in his stomach growing tighter by the second. “You think I’m trying to control you?”

“Well aren’t you?”

“God damnit Lissy!” Frank’s voice was loud as he stood up from his chair, “You’re downright infuriating at times. No, that’s not what I’m doing. At all. What I’m doing is trying to have a sensible discussion with you.” “Well I don’t want to discuss it anymore.” Fliss’s voice raised “So, like I said. I’m going for a shower. Or would you like to discuss that as well.” “Oh for fucks sake…” Frank groaned his hands rubbing his face as he let out a frustrated noise, shaking his head. “You know what, I give in. Do what you want. Shower, buy more land, work, don’t work…just…whatever.”  

Fliss shot Frank a glare, and then a small noise from the basinet jerked them both out of the stare-down and Fliss headed over to pick him up. Turning she made for the door, baby in her arms.

“What are you doing?” Frank asked.

“Going for a shower, like I just said.”

“Well leave him with me.” Frank frowned, “What’s the point of taking him upstairs just to lay him in the crib whilst you shower?” “Because I want to take him with me.” Fliss looked at Frank. “I can leave the door open. I like him being there. Is it a problem?” Frank snorted, his hands on his hips as he looked at his feet “No problem.” He huffed out a little laugh as he raised his face to look at her “But you tell me you’re ready to go back to work when you can’t bear to be apart for the 10 minutes it takes you to shower.”

Fliss’ face fell and Frank felt a pang of guilt at what he had said, but in his mind it was true. She hated leaving him, and he didn’t want her to be in a position where she felt she needed to, whether it was to prove something to herself or everyone else. He’d never tell her this but he loved the homely feel of coming home and his future wife and baby son both waiting for him, either on the sofa or the sun lounger. It was a wonderful, caring, passionate environment that he’d never had before and if he was brutally honest he’d quite happily see her at home until Alex was back in school. She didn’t need to work, but she wanted to, he got that. And he would never stop her. But the fact was she was still on edge about their son being left with people and he could almost picture the melt down she was going to have if she rushed back.

“Fuck you” Fliss seethed at him, drawing him out of his thoughts as Alex began to cry, clearly picking up the vibes in the room. Frank sighed, shaking his head as Fliss began to soothe him

“Lissy, just…”

But she didn’t stay to listen, instead she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, Alex’s little whimpers dying in his ears as she made her way up the stairs.

The argument made for a tense family dinner. They both tried their best to be normal, talking to Mary about her day, not wanting to but a dampener on it but as ever she was sharp. When Frank tucked her in, she asked him about it and he assured her there was nothing to worry about and that it was a silly disagreement which would be forgotten in the morning.

He hoped.

Fliss didn’t really speak to him much the rest of the evening, taking herself to bed early and she was flat out when he came up a little later. With a sigh he gently brushed the hair off her cheek before he kissed her temple and settled down himself.

He woke in the middle of the night, and still half asleep reached out to Fliss’ side of the bed but she wasn’t there. He sat up, blinking and then saw that Alex’s bedside crib was empty too. Frowning, he climbed out of bed and as he headed downstairs he could head soft baby cries from the family room.  

“Hey, everything ok?” Frank asked, opening the door and looking at Fliss as she was stood by the large window seat, gently rocking Alex as she tried to calm him.

“Yeah he’s grouchy.” She said, “I’ve fed him, he’s been changed…” “Want me to take him?” he offered and she shook her head.

"It’s fine Frank, I got him." "I mean, that is what you wanted isn’t it? Me, being a good little wifey-to-be and mummy, right?"

Frank blinked before he gave a groan “Really, do we have to do this now?” he sighed, shaking his head. “I never said that, at all.”

“What it sounded like to me.” “How would you know?” he looked at her “You were so focussed on your position that you didn’t listen to a damned word I said. Because if you had you would have understood my point of view instead of accusing me of trying to control you.” He took a deep breath “When are you going to get it into your head that I am not your shit bag ex?”

“I didn’t say that.” Fliss looked at him, shaking her head

“But you thought it.” Frank eyed her “I could see it on your face.”

“There you go again, presuming you know what I’m thinking.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes, you are.” Fliss looked at him “What I was actually thinking was how shit it was you couldn’t just support me with what I wanted to do.” “Baby, I do support you, and I’ll back you with whatever you want to do, but I’m not gonna lie to you and say I’m happy about something when I’m not.” Frank shook his head.

“How can you back me when you don’t agree with what I want?”

“Because that’s what being together is about.” Frank looked at her “It doesn’t matter what I think…” “It matters to me.” Frank let out a groan “We’re going round in circles…” he shook his head as Alex’s screaming grew louder “Look, why don’t you let me take him? You go get some rest, we can talk about this later.” “I said I got him its fine.” Fliss shook her.

“Oh for fucks- just let me help will you?”

“Go back to bed Frank.” Fliss blazed it him in the dim light of the family room, her brown eyes angry “You have work in the morning, I don’t. Remember?”

He words themselves were innocuous, but the sheer sarcastic way she said them wasn’t. Frank felt the weary anger from their earlier argument which he had been fighting so hard to keep buried, slowly seeping back into his veins. He’d tried to explain his point of view, over and over again but she was being too fucking stubborn to even attempt to see it through his eyes. As he watched her cradling their sobbing son to her chest he didn't have the energy to keep going round and round in circles, not at 3 in the morning anyway. So instead he gave into the frustration he was feeling, and shot a stinging barb, one simple word spoken with exasperation as he shook his head and turned to leave the room. "Bitch"

[the-oak-owl]

Submitted by @merleyfox

A story of mine, that I would like a stew from! It’s pretty long, and I apologize for that, but I hope you enjoy!

Bushes cracked and swished, almost like angry claws tearing at the young woman’s clothing. Each swish of the leaves whispered in her ears

“You won’t outrun him”

“He sees all.”

“You know you won’t escape.”

She pushed herself to run faster, not caring where she ran, as long as it was far away from her pursuers.

The sky was dark and eerily silent, each cracking branch like a gunshot.

Then the howling started up.

The howling began behind her, urging her to run faster, her breath coming in ragged pants. Like echoes, howls came on either side of her.

She wasn’t running away, they were forcing her to go where they pleased.

The young woman skidded to a halt, pale eyes wide as she searched the forest around her. Her long blonde hair hung limp with sweat, ragged, torn from the clawing branches. The howling was getting closer on all sides.

They were already here.

The wolves were silent, almost as if their paws were floating above the earth, as they pushed through the foliage. Their slavering jaws hung open as they began to mill around her, close enough for her to feel their ugly breath, but they never touched her.

The young woman clasped her arms around herself, crying out in prayer.

“Creator, I fear for everything I’ve done. If I am saved from this horrid death, I will never break your laws again.” She paused, a sob breaking from her throat as she watched the wolves. She squeezed her eyes shut, raising her voice.

“Deliver me into the hands of the Creator, oh wicked Fiends!”

As if commanded the wolves leaped upon one another, piling one on top of the other in a horrible tower of fur, silent as they devoured and smothered each other.

Her eyes flew open and the woman leaped backwards in fear. She fell back to the ground, scrabbling back through the frosty grass away from the writhing mass of wolves.

In a heartbeat the pile of gray bodies cleared away, like a dirty fog, and He rose.

Three times larger than any of the wolves that had been there a moment ago, the great wolf stood on his hind legs, his long grey-green tail wagging stiffly, and his face...

Her gaze traveled to his face, what she saw there caused her to cry out and tear her eyes away from his terrible visage. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, willing the monster to leave her.

His muzzle was split in a grin, teeth pulled back to show his dripping fangs. Above his sickening smile, more than enough eyes glared back at her, gleaming a terrible gold.

This was the Five-Eyed Wolf.

“Well, well, well. It seems you can’t run forever, my dear.” His voice was deep and deceptively smooth. “You do know that your actions have consequences, hmm?”

The woman kept her eyes shut tightly as she spoke. “I.. I’m sorry! I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to break your rules.”

“You just can’t stop, can you? You may want to think of what you’re doing.” He paused, golden eyes set on her like a helpless dove. “Let me give you a hint… It is rude not to look at someone while they are talking to you.”

The woman’s eyes ripped open, flying to the wolf’s face, trying to focus on him and not make contact with any of his eyes.

“This town is very strict on the Rules of Civility, and you madame were not being very civil. If you can’t seem to remember, let’s take a look back at it, shall we?” The wolf took a few steps forward, and seated himself gingerly beside the woman. Using one huge paw he reached towards her.

“May I?”

She hesitated, eyes wide and fearful. Not wanting to anger him any longer, she managing a shaky nod.

The wolf touched his paw to the side of her head. As soon as he did, the scene of their first meeting played like a movie infront of them.

~

The sea wind gently puffed the docked ship's sails. The salty warm air seemed to hug the people as they went about the festivities of the day. On the large docks, people waved their hats and kerchiefs to the men, women and children who departed from the bellies of the docked ships.

One of the people coming off of the ships was a young woman, eyes and hair pale. This woman was Jezzabelle. Dressed in dark green finery, she wore the outfit of a merchant’s daughter.

The young lady retrieved her things, a small wagon piled high with luggage, from a ruddy shipworker, dismissing him without much more than a click of her tongue. As she left the docks she made her way deeper into the town, wheeling her cart behind her, heading towards the place she would stay alone for the next few days.

Jezzabelle made her way through the winding roads, eyes flicking up to the wobbly buildings, face pinched unpleasantly. She was glad she was heading for the nicer end of town, further away from the salty water that wore away paint and shape, happy her father hadn’t boarded her in any of the buildings portside, all of them in need of a fresh layer of paint.

After a ways of walking Jezzabelle noticed a boy, who couldn't be much older than her, about seventeen, walking on the other side of the street. She frowned, not having noticed him before, as if he materialized out of the shadows cast by the afternoon sun.

The boy was wearing scrappy clothing, pants patched at the knees and shirt at the elbows. He wore a crooked flat cap on top of his ruffled hair, which lingered somewhere between green and gray.

He whistled as he walked, glancing fondly at the tall buildings. His eyes wandered down the building before landing on Jezzabelle. He paused in his whistling to raise a hand in greeting..

She cast a glance at him, and tipped her head. Her gaze flicked pointedly away, and she marched on like she had never seen him in the first place.

With her acknowledgement the boy crossed the street, and settled into pace beside her. “Hello Miss.” He said with a tip of his flat top hat, hands adorned in thin gloves patched much like his other clothes. “How are you doing on this fine day?”

Jezzabelle gave the boy a soft hum, not turning her eyes towards him. She had interacted with his kind too many times.

The boy’s lips turned down at the corner, and yet he continued. “My name is Lupin.” He offered.

Jezzabelle once more, didn’t give an answer, this time not even deaming to look at the boy.

His lips once more twisted down. “And you are?”

Jezzabelle heaved a sigh and frowned. She stopped in her tracks and whipped around.

“Alright, streetrat.” She pointed a neatly manicured finger at him. “I didn’t come here to be harrassed by some kid. Now go try to steal money off some other traveler.”

Lupin didn’t react, eyes flicking from Jezzabelle’s face to the finger she had stuck in his chest. His expression darkened, and he furrowed his brow. He took a step back from the angry woman, straightening his tattered coat front. “If you don’t mind me saying, Miss, that was rather rude. And if you don’t mind, I’ll now take my leave.”

“Yes, get out of here, you slightfinger.”

Lupin then turned, and disappeared just as he had shown up, melding into the shadows. It was like he had never been there at all.

Jezzabelle huffed, happy to be alone once more and went on unbothered, finding the hotel her father had booked her quite easily. She received her room key and left her baggage with the rather surprised desk-woman, telling her that it would be returned to her room after washing.

“These people,” She murmured to herself as she mounted the stairs. “Is the entire town full of fools and thieves?”

She went to sleep early, turning in after a long week of traveling, happy to finally have a bed on sturdy ground again. The desk-woman still hadn’t returned her things by the time she had turned out the light, leaving an irritated Jezzabelle to sleep in her traveling clothes.

The silent night air was broken by a knock on her door. Jezzabelle awoke with a groan, sitting up in the bed. “Who is it?” She called, voice bleary with sleep.

Whoever was on the other side of the door knocked again, and she tore back the covers, padding to the door. “If that is you, desk-woman, with my clothing I will not be very-” she opened the door, mouth dropping open. It was Him.

The Five-Eyed Wolf stood there, face set.

Instantly she knew this creature had been the street rat she met earlier.

“Hello Miss,” He said, “Would you care to accompany me to tea?”

“T-Tea? At night? No, I think not. Goodbye now.” Jezzabelle’s face had gone deathly pale, eyes locked on the monstrous face of the wolf.

“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s horrible rude to stare?” His lips curled back, all five eyes narrowing.

“I…I apologize.” Her eyes didn’t leave the wolf’s face.

A growl lifted in his throat. “I ask again, would you accompany me to tea?’

“No.. No thank you.” Jezzabelle said.

“Wrong answer.”

~

The wolf removed his paw from her temple, and Jezzabelle crumpled into herself.

“That’s right. You were not very civil the entire time you were here. And manners mean very much to me,” He pulled back, padding over to a felled tree on the edge of the clearing. He seated himself on the stump, which as if it had always been, swiftly transformed into a wrought iron chair.

“Now that I’ve found you, I will be taking you back with me down the Path of the Fae, and you will serve me.” He leaned on the body of the fallen tree, absentmindedly, slowly, tapping each one of his massive claws against the wood. It followed suit of the stump and swiftly transformed into a long garden table, laid with steaming tea cups and desserts of all kinds.

“Hopefully you will find some manners while you do.” His lip curled, eyes shifting back to land on the girl. “Now,” he said, picking up one of the teacups to take a near silent drink. “Mmm. I’m sure you have heard of me, even from where you hail from. I am the Five-Eyed Wolf. I am also known as Lupin, Gela, and The Grimmwulf. You may refer to me as Lord.” He paused for a moment, glancing at the table. “I know you turned down my offer before, but would you like some tea?”

Jezzabelle shakily nodded, not wanting to anger the Fae, and climbed to her feet. She walked over to the table, perching nervously on a branch, long broken from the tree, which almost instantly shifted into a dazzling wrought iron seat.

“Good, now you’re beginning to understand.” He chuckled dangerously, nudging a cup towards her. “Drink, drink, please.”

As she did, savoring the flavor like nothing she had tasted before, he leaned forwards. “And your name is?”

“Jezzabelle.” As soon as the word left her lips she regretted it, wishing she had given something, anything else but her true name.

A grin split his maw once more, and he set the teacup down with a soft clink.

“Jezzabelle…” as the word left his lips, it was as a powerful clawed hand gripped her mind-matter. “Now Jezzabelle, this whole predicament could have been avoided if you had manners. Every person, and fae, you meet is worthy of some respect.”

Jezzabelle didn’t answer, nervously sipping from her cup of tea.

“Some acknowledgment, yes?”

Pain shot through Jezzabelle and she shot to her feet with a yelp, dropping the cup with a clatter. “What was-” The pain doubled, and she fell to her knees, a low whine breaking from her throat.

The Five-Eyed Wolf gave her an exasperated look. “Manners, Jezzabelle… you will learn them.”

“Yes.” Jezzabelle strangled out, crying out as the pain increased yet again.

“Yes, what?” The Five-Eyed Wolf seemed to be getting tired of her.

“Yes… Yes, Lord.’

“Good! You’re learning already.”

The pain released Jezzabelle, and she gasped, scrambling to her feet once more. She didn’t want to be at this horrid tea party any longer. Anything would be better than this. “Oh creator, that was horrid.” She snapped her gaze to The Wolf. “I want to leave.”

“Already? Proper etiquette for tea is to take your time, sweet Jezzabelle.” He said, and Jezzabelle readied herself for another lash of pain.

Instead The Wolf stood, nodding. “But yes, it is rather late. We should be going.” As he stood, the tea set and furniture resumed their wooden state. Even the splattered tea from when Jezzabelle had dropped her cup disappeared without a trace.

She stared at where the tea had been for a moment before looking back up at the Five Eyed Wolf.

Where he had just been standing, the same pack of gray-green wolves stared back.

They were silent, golden eyes unblinking.

Jezzabelle shivered, taking a step towards them, nervous that they would devour her like they had each othee.

But they didn’t move, except for those golden eyes.

The young maiden dipped into a hesitant curtsy, and she could swear the wolves began to smirk.

In turn, the wolves of the pack dipped into a series of bows.

And in only a moment they were around her. They pushed against her, flipping her off of her feet. She screamed as she fell, the noise echoing in the cool night air.

Landing on the backs of the wolves, Jezzabelle struggled. They were carrying her like a wave as they ran, always a wolf there to catch her. Jezzabelle dug her fingers into their thick hides, holding on for dear life, squeezing her eyes shut against her fate.

The wolves carried her onwards, only slowing as they came to their final place.

A ring of old hawthorne trees greeted Jezzabelle’s eyes and she tried to scramble upright on the roiling tide of wolves.

She was set to the ground, the wolves once more leaped upon one another, quickly turning into the Five Eyed Wolf.

“Here we are!” His voice was joyful. “I welcome you to the Fae Path.” He said, motioning with one paw to the trees around him. “This will take us to my plane of existence.” He turned, fixing her with a gaze. “You must walk freely into the circle, and once there we will depart.”

“If I have to walk freely then I won’t go.” Jezzabelle said, taking a step back from the circle of trees.

The Wolf looked at her for a moment, then sighed. “You just have to keep making things more difficult, don’t you?” He lifted a claw and pointed at the ground beside him. “Please come here, Jezzabelle.” His voice was like that of a strict father’s.

As soon as he said her name it was as if she lost all control of her body. Even as she fought back she obediently took the place beside him. Tears began to stream down her face, asage realized the depravity of the situation.

The Wolf looked at her, politely averting his gaze until the sobs became nothing but sniffles. He cleared his throat, and turned back to her.

“We must go now. It’s terribly rude to show up late, hmm?”

She gave a stiff nod, and took a shaky breath. “I’m ready.” She would put up a strong face. She would do what her father always told her to. Clasp fate’s hands in the waltz of life.

“Good,” The Wolf cleared his throat and announced to the trees. “Take us to the summer court manor, if you will.” And immediately they began to thrash as if a mighty gust of wind had come on suddenly.

Jezzabelle wrapped her arms around herself, cowering from the whipping branches, “Death be sure to take me,” she whispered.

“Not yet, my dear Jezzabelle.”

She jumped as the wolf responded to her, withering under his gaze:

A jolt of pain ran through her and she gasped, clenching her fists tightly.

The Wolf clicked his tongue “And I thought we were making progress on manners already,” he shook his head, “No matter. We’ll be sure to fix that,” A wicked grin had split his maw. “But the important thing is, we’ve made it.”

Jezzabelle looked to see everything had changed around her. The dreary winter forest had disappeared, though the ring of hawthornes still remained.

In its place was a field, warm and ripe with grain, grasshoppers singing among the tall stalks of wheat.

She looked back at The Wolf, surprised to see the beast now adorned with a suit of fine silk, finer than anything she had seen at the Merchant’s Balls. Golden rings adorned his paws, and perched between his ears sat a small golden circlet.

The Wolf stood aloft, looking proudly over the land, before turning his gaze back to Jezzabelle.

“Welcome to my court.”

—————— 

Goodness! What a story, such vibrant penmanship. There’s a strong voice here which I do hope I was able to portray well.

Here’s your stew, friend!

[lupizora]

No One Left Behind

This was my super late gift fic to WhatIsMagic over on the Boku no Ship Academia discord server for their Secret Santa 2019. Admittedly, lots of RL issues popped up to make the process more difficult than it already was. But procrastination is a bitch too... ^^” I’m happy with the end result though! It was my first time writing from Kirishima’s POV and the sunshine OT3, which turned out to be more fun than I expected~ Hope you enjoy!! ^w^ 

Genre: Fantasy/Adventure/Romance

Pairing: Kirikacchako

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,235

Summary: Kirishima's life was simple. Along with Bakugou, his partner-in-crime, they roamed the land in search of a place to call home. They even had a solid plan in his opinion. But life doesn't get any easier because you're a fire-breathing dragon. Especially not after meeting a charming yet tougher-than-she-looks witch that's asking for a fight.

Fight us? She’s so tiny! Kirishima had thought upon landing his gaze on Uraraka for the first time.

From barely reaching the knee of his dragon foot to the deteriorating state of her clothes, the Mage hadn’t appeared to be a threat. Not until she managed to knock down Kirishima with a single attack.

This infuriated his partner-in-crime and the land’s most dangerous bandit, Bakugou Katsuki. No amount of foes had been able to do that before, neither this fast. So he attacked Uraraka without holding back while Kirishima tried to stand again, pain traveling on his long skull like ripples on a lake.

Their fight seemed endless. Through his dragon vision, Kirishima could follow it easily despite the dust cloud they raised while dueling. It had been forever since he had last seen Bakugou being equally matched by anyone. Yet, this girl made him struggle with her wind magic, forcing him at some point to use his explosive fire magic. It resulted in leveling the first line of trees surrounding the glade Uraraka had found them.

As the aftershocks of that clash resided, Kirishima decided this had run long enough. Someone from the nearby village would come to chase them out; bringing more trouble than this dispute was worth. He could admit the Mage had guts though. Holding her ground against Bakugou with ferocity akin to a mother bear was an admirable feat. But they had to stop. Kirishima sprained his mind, trying to figure out how to resolve this fight without hurting their pride. All he came up with was sitting in between them during a pause for breath. This effectively blocked their path of attack, redirecting their general frustration at him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bakugou shouted, striking his blades against the dragon’s scales.

Kirishima couldn’t feel anything so he left him to rage and addressed the Mage. ”We aren’t going to hurt anyone. We’re simply passing by on our way to the Elderworm Forest.”

She stared at him with wide eyes as if it was her first time seeing a dragon talk. The attention felt different though. Sure, she stared but it wasn’t the unsettling glare most peasants gave Kirishima like they pondered whether he would eat them or not. Her smell was flowery sweet like awe and wonder, instead of the sharp tang of fear. Flames danced in his stomach like fleeting butterflies.

“I see,” said the Mage. “If that’s the case, uh… Mr. Dragon.”

“Kirishima,” he said with a snicker. “Just call me Kirishima.”

“Alright…You seem kind, Kirishima, so I believe you.” She grabbed her staff tighter and tried to glance over at Bakugou. “But he—”

“I’m what, Round Face?” Bakugou sneered. “Not worth your time?”

“I’d say rude and tactless but you know that already,” she mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You got some nerve! Third-class Mages like you should know their place.”

“Oh? I wonder what your bandit brothers will say when they find I swiped the floor with you!”

Kirishima placed a paw on Bakugou’s head to prevent him from attacking her again. “How about we all calm down and eat something? It’s getting late and dinner tastes better with a company, don’t you think?”

Both adversaries huffed in annoyance. Their growling stomachs betrayed them though and they reluctantly agreed to the idea with blushing faces. Leaving them at opposite sides of the clearing, Kirishima set up camp. He had plenty of fallen tree trunks at his disposal to create a small pure in the middle. After lighting it up with his dragon breath, he forced Bakugou to quit his sulking and unpack their things from Kirishima’s back. They were running low on vegetables and other spices the bandit used in their meals but had enough meat to last them until the next big town. So Kirishima wasn’t too worried. After all, Bakugou could make everything taste good even with the bare minimum of materials. It was one of the reasons the dragon enjoyed traveling together. Things used to taste very bland before.

Soon, the smell of a freshly cooked meal spread in the clearing. Kirishima’s mouth watered, saliva dripping on the ground and sizzling whenever it hit the burning embers of the fire.

“Watch it,” Bakugou scolded him. “You’d get drool all over the food!”

He whined in return and dropped his head between his front legs, wagging his tail like a puppy dog. Of course, this motion raised quite the racket coming from an overgrown lizard. Annoyed from this distraction, his friend eventually threw him a half-cooked rib. Kirishima gobbled it whole in one go.

As he was licking his snout in delight, his gaze fell on the Mage. She was sitting on a log at the furthest point the fire could reach. They had introduced each other properly while setting camp earlier. Her name was Uraraka Ochako, a wandering Mage currently in her thesis quest. She had to complete the quest to graduate from her Master Wizard school. It sounded like a lot of trouble for a seal of approval to Kirishima, but humans always had to make things more complicated than they should.

Picking another freshly cooked piece of meat from Bakugou’s makeshift pan, Kirishima approached Uraraka and placed it on a smooth rock in front of her.

“Is that for me?” Uraraka asked, surprised.

“Yup!” He took a seat next to her. “And it’s not poisoned if that’s worrying you.”

She cooed and picked it up bare-handed. “That’s so sweet of you. I’ve been starving actually!” Ignoring the look of hatred Bakugou directed at her from the other side of the fire, she inhaled the food in a matter of moments.

No lie. She must have been really hungry, Kirishima thought.

He hadn’t seen a human woman eat so carelessly and messy before. It was different in a good way; like everything about her seemed to be.

They spent the better of the night talking about this and that until both Mages fell asleep. Kirishima stayed awake a little longer, self-conscious of Uraraka’s back leaning against his side. Her body heat was nothing compared to the raging inferno in his gut. But it made his thoughts travel far and wide.

Maybe those exact thoughts were the reason when—come morning—he asked Uraraka to join along in their journey to the Elderworm Woods—much to Bakugou’s loud and very vocal objections.

“No.”

“We’re all headed in the same direction.”

“I refuse!”

Kirishima dropped his shoulders with a sigh. “Technically, I’m the one carrying the bags so it’s my shot to make.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Bakugou said. “I’m the one in charge.”

“Please don’t make me say things I’ll regret, man.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

“That you just don’t want me along because I kicked your butt,” Uraraka said. She had perched on a tree branch, observing the scene at a safe distance from Bakugou’s fire-like powers.

He turned around, pointing his finger at her. “You stay out of it! This is between me and my partner.”

Seeing this was going to turn into another fight, Kirishima donned his human form and stood in between them again. “She’s coming or we’re walking there and that’s final.” He said to Bakugou.

He appeared firm and serious, but his insides were coiling with anxiety. It was rare for the dragon to directly challenge Bakugou’s ‘authority’ like this. More often than not, Kirishima let Bakugou take the initiative because their goals aligned, not out of fear. Kirishima could withstand most magic attacks with ease after all. Except when it came to Uraraka’s magic. He couldn’t understand what had come over him regarding the Mage. It worried him not that she beat him. There was a first time for everything and Kirishima wasn’t the strongest dragon in the land at the end of the day. He told himself that her coming along wasn’t just to keep a close watch on her. He wanted Uraraka to come, simple as that.

Bakugou crossed his arms, still scowling. “Fine. But she’s cooking her meals.”

Kirishima grinned. “Aye, sir!” He turned around but his words were cut short.

Once she got a glimpse of his face, Uraraka fell from the branch into the bushes underneath the tree.

“Gods!” Kirishima rushed to her and parted the vegetation. “Are you alright?”

Uraraka straightened her hooded hat. “Yes! I...lost my balance is all!” she said with a cheerful high-pitched squeak, taking his offered hand. After standing up, Uraraka continued holding onto it. Her fingers trailed the larger scales along his forearm before stopping on the underside of his human arm. She seemed mesmerized from the smaller pebble-like scales he had there instead of smooth skin.

Bakugou’s curt cough snapped her out of whatever trance she had entered.

“Ah! I’m so sorry, Kirishima!” Uraraka said, blushing and waving her hands in front of her. “That was rude of me. I should have asked you if it was okay. I’m very sorry!”

The dragon returned his gaze on his arm. Warmth, unlike any he’d felt before, spread from the spots she had touched him. “You don’t have to apologize,” Kirishima stammered, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t remember the last time anyone grabbed my hand so carelessly.”

“I see.” Her rosy cheeks turned, if possible, redder. “If that’s settled then...I should get my things ready! Bye!” She bolted in the direction of the camp.

Her reaction puzzled Kirishima but he didn’t press the matter any further. They had an entire trip ahead to figure out things if they had to.

Bakugou remained uncharacteristically silent for the rest of that day.

***

Uraraka turned out to be a pleasant company indeed. With a spring in her step, she filled the following weeks with joy and excitement. Everything amazed her. From flowers growing on top of ancient columns, to the way Kirishima’s scales glistened when the sun hit them just right. It was contagious.

Even Bakugou started warming up to her. Especially after discovering how terrible were her actual cooking skills.

“No one can burn boiling water,” he said while throwing away the remains of Uraraka’s shoddy kettle, “or turn perfectly solid meat into slime. How you made it this far is beyond me!”

The Mage joined her hands together with an awkward smile. “People’s generosity?”

Bakugou shot his meanest stinky eye and begrudgingly accepted to involve her in their meal plans. He didn’t change his overall attitude towards Uraraka though; always keeping his distance as if uncertain of what to think of her. In Kirishima’s eyes, it was a tentative first step forward at least.

They eventually fell into a peaceful routine in their traveling. Guards stopped chasing Kirishima and Bakugou the moment they spotted them in town, allowing them a couple of hours to browse for supplies before sounding the alarm. As the group traveled mostly through the air, they had already covered a great distance by the time kingdom forces were alerted.

Kirishima had been worried Uraraka might come to the wrong conclusions. The duo weren’t criminals. Bakugou had simply ridiculed the current ruler once, and the King hadn’t taken it lightly. But Uraraka laughed her heart out when the dragon tried to explain the situation, calling it silly and dropping the subject. Relief washed over Kirishima. He let her ride on his head for the rest of that flight, smiling all the way. His partner, surprisingly, didn’t complain about the sitting arrangement for once.

This serenity was a fragile and fleeting state to remain for long though.

***

Things started going downhill when they reached the Great Mountains. Those massive blocks of earth, rising white and blue from the mist, were the last barrier before the Elderworm Woods. Plenty had attempted to cross them in the past; most giving up from the harsh cold and lack of proper passages. However, Kirishima had been confident about making it across when he had first suggested it to Bakugou. He could keep the Barbarian warm even if his winter garments and furs failed him. But the dragon hadn’t planned for a third person in their group, more so how it would distract him from his duties. The Gods had their way to jog his memory though.

On the third day of their crossing, while they were scaling a steep slope, Bakugou slipped. Kirishima could only stare in shock as his partner fell, his cape billowing behind him. Something passed next to Kirishima in a blur. It was Uraraka free-falling. The action startled him enough to snap out of his trance. Kirishima jumped after them, his wings unfolding from behind his back as he regained his dragon form. Passing through the clouds that had settled around the cliff, he found them suspended in midair. A pink aura was covering both their bodies like a shimmering cloak, but it flickered around Uraraka. She continued chanting; hands shaking around her magic staff. Her levitation spell wouldn’t last long.

With Bakugou too dumbfounded to reason, Kirishima just hovered below him and called for Uraraka to drop him. She did with a relieved sigh. Feeling Bakugou’s weight settle on his saddle, Kirishima flew upwards and picked the Mage midair. They reached the top and landed smoothly on the plateau there.

As Uraraka stroke Kirishima’s snout, Bakugou approached them with heavy steps and turned her around to face him.

“What did you do?” He yelled.

Uraraka stared back, the sharp scent of fear emanating from her body. “I saved… you.”

“Get one thing straight, Round Face. I didn’t need your help! Not now, not ever.”

“But you’d have died!” She released her arm from his grip. “I couldn’t just stand there and let you perish!”

“Spare me this shit,” he snapped back. “I have a motherfucking dragon on my side. Kirishima would have caught me before I hit the ground.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Both turned their questionable gaze at him. 

Kirishima stared at his feet, his two hearts beating erratically. “I froze for a moment back there. Yeah, I might have had reached you but I can’t say that for sure. If Uraraka hadn���t intervened…”

Bakugou huffed and withdrew to the furthest corner of the plateau.

The Mage and the dragon set camp by themselves, occupying their thoughts with small talk and jokes.

Later on, when night had spread her silky midnight veil over the horizon and Uraraka had fallen asleep against Kirishima’s side, he heard the shuffling of clothes and steps approaching. The faint aroma of caramel Bakugou gave off was the only reason Kirishima wasn’t alarmed and continued to pretend to be asleep. The steps seized when they reached the dragon’s right side.

“You didn’t have to side with her,” Bakugou said.

Kirishima finally opened one eye to look at him. “I was being honest.”

“Bullshit.”

“It was the truth and you know it. You’d have been injured or worse, dead.”

“I’m not afraid of death,” Bakugou said. “It comes for everyone in the end.” Stepping on Kirishima’s snout, he scaled the dragon’s head to sit between his horns. “Your tongue has been getting ahead of itself lately.”

“Is that a problem?” Kirishima didn’t need to study his partner’s face to understand this was troubling him.

“It’s a bother, that’s what it is.” Bakugou flopped backward. “Where is this audacity coming from?”

“I’m not saying anything different than I did before.” Kirishima snorted. “You react to it more now.”

“I do not!”

“If you say so, man.”

Bakugou huffed. “She was being reckless,” he said, returning to their previous argument. “The idiot could have killed us both with that risky plan.”

“I thought it was brave,” Kirishima said wistfully. “And Uraraka did save your life, dude. You gotta thank her!”

“Whatever.” His cape slipped over the dragon’s right ear as Bakugou laid on his side. “Just go to sleep.”

Typical, Kirishima thought with a fond eye-roll. 

His partner would prefer to set himself on fire before he acknowledged anyone’s help, even if that assistance had saved him from plummeting to his certain death. But if there was one thing bothering Kirishima was his own reaction back then. He prided himself in his quick reflexes. And yet, Uraraka’s smile had distracted him.

Could this be dangerous? he wondered while drifting asleep.

***

After the fiasco with the cliff, Bakugou decided he had his fill with scaling the mountains. If they could fly to reach them, they could fly across them too. No one objected to this plan at first, but it quickly turned into an extremely awkward ride. Bakugou hadn’t exchanged a single word with Uraraka since the incident and neither did she. Having to sit close, due to the harsh cold, didn’t prompt them to mend their differences either.

This negativity tired Kirishima. He was doing all the hard work. Couldn’t these two clear the tension between them? If only until they reached their destination at least.

The Gods granted his wish in the form of a snowstorm. Strong winds were bending his wings in the wrong directions. His second eyelid protected his eyes from the snow, but Kirishima couldn’t see clearly from the fogginess it accumulated.

“Hold on!” He shouted as dark shapes sprouted in front of him. The last thing he heard before colliding with something solid where his party’s screams.

 When Kirishima opened his eyes again, everything was white. Ice and snow slid from his belly as he turned around to stand on all fours. His ears were ringing and his front was sore from his fall. Still, he craned his neck to find his saddle empty.

Panic flared in his chest as Kirishima scanned the horizon. 

Oh, no… How long has it been?

There was nothing but plan hills made of snow as far as his eyes could reach. 

No. I didn’t ask for this.

He dashed ahead, the ground parting beneath him in waves. 

No! That’s not what I wanted.

Sure, things would be better if they got along. Bakugou was his friend, his partner, the closest thing he had to family anymore. The world could be against him and his personality had seen better days, but Kirishima had sworn to be there for him, in thick and thin. Compared to that, his relationship with Uraraka was still fresh; an uncharted, delicate bond Kirishima was only starting to make sense off. But if anything happened to her, none of his hearts wouldn’t take it.

Something shimmered on his left. The air was different around that terrain as if there was a boiling pot buried underneath. Kirishima bolted in that direction, not paying any attention at how the snow got deep enough to reach his shoulder. It was getting warmer. 

After a long final jump, he landed on something soft and squishy. Releasing his fire, Kirishima melted the ice around it to reveal a pink force-field. Two forms were huddled together in its center, under Bakugou’s fur-lined cape.

“Guys!” Kirishima shouted.

Uraraka’s eyes fluttered open and she offered him a weak smile. The field started dissipating, allowing him to enter. Kirishima didn’t waste time and curled around them, offering his body’s heat. Relief washed over him, filling his eyes with water. Just as Kirishima settled his head on his tail, his gaze crossed with Bakugou’s red.

“Why are you crying, idiot?” The Barbarian murmured, exhausted.

He sniffed. “I almost lost you again.”

Bakugou scoffed and rapped his knuckles against the dragon’s scales. “You’re here now and that’s what fucking matters.”

***

When they resumed their traveling, the tension was gone. Uraraka even settled in Bakugou’s lap and he had to hug her to hold the reins. At first, Kirishima didn't pay much attention to it. They had been in mortal peril before, almost freezing to death. Of course, they would cuddle for warmth. Kirishima went as far as to congratulate Uraraka for convincing his stubborn partner to go with the original plan. Her flustered reaction tipped him off that something was amiss though. Ignoring the sour taste it left in his mouth, Kirishima focused on getting them away from these cursed mountains instead.

The rest of the trip was uneventful and after a particular steep peak, the Elderworm Woods unfolded before their eyes; a vast green sea, full of creatures with every size and color under the sun. Giant trees—taller than the High Castle itself—spread over the terrain. Magic rode on the wind like sparkly ribbons made of stars. Kirishima could sense it, filtering through his wings and bouncing on his scales. 

It felt like home. 

His excitement carried over to the others. Uraraka was tracing her fingers through the air with glee. A small smile spread across Bakugou’s face as he tried to see everything at once. 

They were happy and it should have been enough. Kirishima didn’t want to think about the consequences of reaching their destination. But as they settled for the night, he was unable to sleep. Scenario upon scenario bounced around his head like excited fox-squirrels. What all of them had in common was Uraraka or Bakugou or, Gods forbid, both leaving him behind. He could stay in this forest forever but could they?. 

The blooming romance between the two only increased Kirishima’s worry. Bakugou wasn’t the type of guy to sit in a field of flowers with anyone before; more so with someone, he had been on the fence for a while. Whenever Kirishima asked him about it, the Barbarian claimed he was helping Uraraka with her thesis. The sooner she finished, the better for everyone. Uraraka would return to her Academy, he and Kirishima would return on their adventuring. Yet, by observing them, it seemed more like Bakugou stalled on purpose. Chasing Uraraka around while she was gathering herbs. Climbing with her on trees to stargaze or exploring the forest together.

Kirishima couldn’t ignore the truth anymore. He didn’t want to get in the way of their happiness either. 

So one day, while Uraraka went on her regular herb-hunting, Kirishima grabbed Bakugou and flew to the nearest hill. Despite his protests, the Barbarian remained quiet after their landing. Transforming into his human form, Kirishima took a seat on a boulder. He had gone over his words several times. Still, he didn’t know where to begin.

“If you have something to say, just get this over with.” Bakugou crossed his arms. “She’s gonna get worried and whine about it.”

Kirishima took the crumb, like a drowning man looking for a lifeline. “That’s what I wanna talk about.”

“Uraraka’s whining?”

“No! Uraraka in general.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And she’s kind-hearted enough to worry about us. You should give her more credit about that.”

“Fine. What about her?”

“I’ve noticed she acts differently around you lately. I mean you still have your arguments and rivalry going on, but it’s more mellow than before. Almost like teasing,” Kirishima said, pulling at some weeds. “I don’t think you notice it but you have this look on your face whenever Uraraka is around like spring has come early.” Saying his observations aloud wasn’t supposed to hurt. But Kirishima’s insides were twisting; as if the fire in his lungs had escaped to the rest of his body. “All I’m trying to say is that it’s pretty obvious that you like her and she does too. So I—“

“Huh?!” Birds flew away from the foliage nearby, Bakugou’s yell scaring them off. His eyes were so wide, they might as well had popped up from their sockets at any moment. “You serious?” He said, calmer but still in a tone of disbelief. “Are you blind? She likes you!”

“What?” It was Kirishima’s turn to stare as if madness had contaminated his partner.

Bakugou started passing. His cape swiped the ground, raising dust behind him. “She never shuts up about you. Always has a nice word and a smile for you. Haven’t you learned anything about human courtship all these years?” He turned around to point dramatically at him. “You obviously like her back too. Giving her the best part of the meat. Offering rides. Looking at her as if you worship the ground she walks on. So don’t joke around!”

“I’m not! I’m not human, man. I may look like the part from time to time. Deep down though, I’m too different to completely understand her,” he said. Clenching his scale-covered fists, Kirishima stood up to reason with his partner. “I’m a monster. That’s why she’s better off with you anyway.”

“Bullshit!” Bakugou bonked him on the head. “You’re soft-hearted to a fault! People see someone big that breathes fire and they think he’s dangerous. We both know that you’d be better off at some secluded cave in the mountains than go around burning villages,” he said with a wave. “So what if I am human? They are scared of me! Who, in their right mind, would want to be around someone who half the kingdom is asking for his head?”

“You’re not that scary, man,” Kirishima said. “I’ve stayed by your side for so long, didn’t I?”

“You don’t classify as ‘someone in his right mind’ for exactly that reason.” Bakugou took a deep breath. “Never. Not once, I got that reaction from you. As if you aren’t fazed by anything and everything in the world is your friend. So don’t give me this crap of being a monster. If there is one, that’s me. And Uraraka is better off with someone that can treat her right.”

“But she’s so head-over-heels for you, dude!” Kirishima shook him by the shoulders. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

Bakugou grabbed him by the horns and pressed their foreheads together. “You are the one in denial and projecting your feelings on me.”

“Just admit it!”

“You admit it!”

“Don’t I have a say in all this?” Uraraka’s voice, albeit sweet with a tinge of a hidden laugh in her tone, dropped like lighting right then and there.

The boys untangled themselves and stared back at her. Uraraka held her wand on one hand and a patch of herbs under the other. Her hair and clothes were a mess. She probably flew to this hill too since their camp was at least a mile away. Her body language wasn’t showing any angry signs. But Kirishima could smell the anxiety oozing from her in waves.

“I thought something happened,” Uraraka said with a sigh. “And here you are, arguing over something so stupid!”

It stunk. Was there a possibility she wasn’t romantically interested in either of them and they had made a fool of themselves, treating her as an object and not a person with her own will?

“What do you mean?” Bakugou demanded to know.

“I have two hands!” Uraraka exclaimed frustrated.

Kirishima didn’t understand the statement and by Bakugou’s blank expression, neither did he.

“Of course you have two hands,” the dragon offered. “You’re a human. That’s normal.”

Uraraka huffed. Leaving her staff and the herbs on the ground, she approached them with a confident stance. Both boys took an involuntary step back, not sure what to expect of her. When Uraraka finally stood in front of them, she took ahold of one hand from each.

“See?” she asked with a blinding smile. “We can all stay together this way.”

Bakugou figured it out first. His whole face turned the same shade of red as Kirishima’s scales. Heat emanated from his body, small wisps of smoke trailing from his free fist.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the Barbarian muttered, not looking any of them in the eye.

Kirishima scratched his cheek, still staring at their joint hands as if it was a puzzle he couldn’t solve. “I don’t get it,” he said.

"It means I like you both, silly!" Uraraka said as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 

"Oh."

"Oh?" Bakugou grabbed Kirishima by his jacket. "That's all you have to say?" 

The dragon allowed his body to be rocked sideways. "Why are you angry, man? This great! I haven't heard of a three people's mating but it could work, right?"

Bakugou's face turned, if possible, redder than before. "Like hell it is!" He turned to Uraraka. "And you. I don't know what possessed you, Round Face. This idiot here isn't some pet you keep in your backyard and throw away when it's too big to fit there. He is someone with feelings you can hurt with statements like that. Last week, he cried because he thought he destroyed a badgers nest!"

"I know! That's why I like him!" Uraraka said. "For his heart is his biggest strength and his smile is...” She blushed. “Adorable.”

“Really?” Kirishima pointed at his razor-sharp teeth. “Don’t you think it’s scary?”

“Says who?” Bakugou scoffed. “It’s badass, that’s all.”

Uraraka cooed—to the Barbarian’s embarrassment—before her grin turned into a frown. “I still can’t believe both of you like me. I thought I was getting between you two.”

“What?!” The boys cried.

“Hear me out!” she said. “You called each other ‘partner’ all the time.”

“Yeah,” Bakugou said. “Because we are comrades-in-arms.”

“I was watching you two from the day I met you. It always looked like something more.”

At that moment, a particularly challenging battle flashed before Kirishima’s eyes. Bakugou and he had been separated. Soldiers were surrounding the dragon to stop him. Kirishima did feel a bit sorry for them when he resumed his human form and broke through their blockade. It hadn’t lasted for long though, as the mindset of battle overcame him. With half a mind, he continued searching for his partner. Deep down, Kirishima knew it was unnecessary. Bakugou was a powerful wizard and a merciless warrior; he didn’t need assistance. But he was also human and not having him in his sight, made Kirishima worry.

During a lull in the battle, he finally spotted ash-blond spiky hair in the distance. The Barbarian had lost his cape, fighting bare-chested with his trusty curved blades on both hands. Bloodstains littered his body but they weren’t from his wounds. Kirishima dropped the soldier he had just defeated, watching mesmerized while Bakugou fought simultaneously against three enemies with a wicked grin on his face. It was a memory the dragon held dear in his two hearts because it was what real freedom looked like to him.

“I guess that’s true,” Kirishima said with a shy smile.

Pulling his hand away, Bakugou turned around with arms crossed. His scent was resembling more of burnt caramel and smoke escaped his clenched fists in bulk.

“Said something wrong?” Uraraka asked.

Although his expression wasn’t visible, Kirishima knew they didn’t have to worry. If anything, the Barbarian’s ears still had a touch of red to them.

“No,” Bakugou grumbled. “You’re just disgustingly corny.”

The dragon and the Mage exchanged a knowing look before both tackled him from behind.

“Get off me!”

“We love you, too!” Uraraka chimed.

Kirishima’s hearts were hammering so loud in his chest. Joy, unlike any he felt before, filled him to the brim like a magic boost. Without Kirishima realizing, his wings unfolded and he shot to the sky above them with an excited roar. He didn’t have to choose between them nor would he be left behind. They could stay together for as long as they lived.

“Put us down, you idiot!” Bakugou shouted over the wind. “You can be happy on the ground too!”

[britonell]

Hello @clearwillow. Do you know how difficult it was to keep my mouth shut about being your @inusecretsanta​!?

Anywho, don’t skip the fanfic below!

Hermit’s Haven

In which one dog leads to a hermit failing to be a hermit…

...this is not my biography >.>

The dog appeared out of nowhere.

Inuyasha stared at the unexpected visitor. Against the backdrop of the untouched snow, the Akita stood out like a sore thumb.

The dog certainly didn’t belong to anyone in the village—since he was the sole inhabitant of said village. His closest ‘neighbor’ was an agricultural school on the other side of the mountain, and they weren’t the type to let a dog wander off their property.

Inuyasha watched the Akita sniff the icy bridge and then raise his head, ears perked up and beady eyes examining the half-demon, before throwing all caution to the wind and trotting up to him.

That was how the solitary half-demon ended up with a dog in his house. A dog that was currently taking up Inuyasha’s favorite spot beside the kotatsu, paws up in the air, not a care in the world.

For Inuyasha, this was odd. He wasn’t one to raise pets. He didn’t even own fish (which was why there was an empty koi pond in his backyard). He was an honest-to-goodness hermit.

Not that he had always been like this. After his father’s funeral, Izayoi and Inuyasha had been left instructions on when and how to sell some land in Hokkaido. Then the economic bubble burst happened and the land in the north ended up being their refuge.

Izayoi hadn’t been hurting for money or anything, no, she had plenty from her own inheritance. Inuyasha didn’t like to think about it much; throw in some economic woes and suddenly every city folk in Tokyo was ornery, so much so the half-breed child running around their apartment complex was now an eyesore.

The village was different. They had always been self-sufficient in their isolated community. Besides, as descendants of the Ainu people, they had their own history of being marginalized. He and Izayoi had been informed rather bluntly that they’d be welcomed as long as they didn’t get in anyone’s way—and if Inuyasha could quickly learn to ‘chase those pesky bears away’ that would be super helpful.

It all worked, for a while anyway. 

The damn dog startled awake and stared at Inuyasha, who snorted. Nothing woke the dog up except his own loud snoring.

Right. What to do with the dog. He had to be someone’s pet. Had he been abandoned? The agricultural school regularly dealt with people throwing their trash and animals on their land, but in this village? With all this snow, no one would come this far to leave an unwanted pet.

So the dog somehow wandered all the way out here. Wonderful.

Maybe the dog was chipped. He could ask Kaede at the school. The villagers had trusted her, and she did attend the funerals whenever she could. Wait, she was a veterinary instructor for only the first half of the school year. She wouldn’t be back in Hokkaido for months.

And he wasn’t going to risk visiting another vet, since…

“Guess you’re staying for a few days,” Inuyasha grumbled. 

The dog’s response was a great, big yawn.

A few days did pass. Then a few weeks. Then a few months.

They built something of a routine. Inuyasha would go out to forage and hunt, and the dog would patiently wait for him in the village. He took to calling the dog Hachi because...because he damn well felt like it, shut up. He even thought about buying some dog food in that resort town, but Hachi seemed to enjoy the game meat. That was fine. Hopefully.

It all worked, for a while anyway.

“Hachi?” Inuyasha called. Where was that damn dog? Hachi always welcomed him at the bridge next to his house. That used to bother him, since half the bridge hadn’t been refurbished to narrow the gaps between the railings, but with the ice gone he all but expected to see Hachi at the bridge, wagging his bushy tail with his stupid tongue out.

“Hachi! Hachi!” Inuyasha wasn’t panicking. He was being thorough, that’s why he was slamming the sliding doors open and entering his old neighbors’ homes. He would personally apologize to their graves later.

He found Hachi in the fifth house. Aiko used to own a Shiba Inu that she babied like her own grandchild. He cursed himself for forgetting the doggie door disguised as a tiny sliding door—he had helped her install it!

Hachi was in the bathroom, lying on his side, breathing labored and legs twitching.

There was no decision to make. Coherent thought didn’t even return until he was halfway to his destination, leaping from branch to branch with Hachi cradled in his arms.

The veterinary clinic was the first building next to the south entrance. Inuyasha shot past a group of shocked students, kicking up clouds of fallen Sakura petals, and burst into the clinic. 

Kaede wasn’t sitting at the front desk.

“Fuck.”

“Over here.”

A man with hair bound in a rat tail was holding out his hands. To his credit, his eyes were focused on Hachi and not on Inuyasha. The latter surrendered the barely conscious Akita and watched the man rush past some of the confused students and into one of the rooms.

Inuyasha stood in the lobby for a good long while, his mind too scrambled to decipher the whispers. But if he was capable of observation, he would understand; a dog-eared man had just shown up with a half-dead dog in a clinic that usually catered to farm animals. His fault for not wearing a hat.

There was a loud shush that sent a couple of people out of the lobby, then a small hand offered him a cup of water.

“Please, have a seat.”

He was ushered to an empty seat where he stayed until he was the only one in the lobby, staring at the cup until the man with the rat tail walked up to him with a clipboard.

“Yamaguchi Inuyasha, right?” The man smiled, wearing no mask of pretense. “My name is Miroku. Kaede-baa-san’s my great aunt. She told us about how you helped her prepare our clinic and barn for the typhoon. Don’t mind the students, they’re first-years. I’ll make sure to have a word with them.”

Inuyasha didn’t really understand what he was saying, half the words going in one dog ear and out the other, he just wanted to know—“How’s the dog?”

“He’s stable,” oh thank fuck, “but he needs to stay with us for a few days.” Oh fuck no.

“What happened to him?” He gripped the cup a tad too tightly.

“I was hoping you could fill in the details. Did you see him collapse?”

Somehow, talking about Hachi made it easier to get the words out. “No, I was out. He snuck into one of the houses in the village. The house had a goddamn doggie door, I fucking forgot about it, and he was in the bathroom and he was—fuck, that old woman was on a lot of drugs before she—oh fuck the medicine cabinet was open, you think he could’ve reached—fuck, he must’ve gotten into some of her meds. Fuck!”

Miroku scribbled away, unfazed by the cursing. “It’s alright, I understand. We’ll run a few more tests. What’s his name?”

And there it was. After opening and closing his mouth a few times, he began, “His...I don’t really…”

Miroku politely waited.

“He’s not my dog. I was gonna ask Kaede to scan him for a chip. I can still pay for the treatments.”

“Kaede won’t be here for another month, and she’ll return only as an advisor. I took over her position beginning this school year. If you don’t mind, I can go ahead and check for a chip.”

“Sure. Yeah, that’s fine.” It wasn’t.

“In regards to payment—”

“I can pay.”

“—there’s an account set up under the name of Yamaguchi Izayoi for the farm produce department. Ordinarily, any unused funds are forfeited at the end of the year, but I noticed an exception was made...seven times. If you’d like, we can use this account for payment?”

Inuyasha had to take a minute or two to pick his jaw up off the floor. “That’s…fine.”

“Great. We’ll use the phone number attached to the account to contact you.”

Inuyasha left the clinic with a lot of questions and nobody to ask them. He immediately busied himself back in the village, tidying the houses he broke into, visiting and apologizing to the graves of his neighbors, raking the flower petals into piles, anything to keep his mind off of Hachi. He thought about visiting the clinic, but he didn’t want to risk exciting Hachi and setting back his recovery. 

Not to mention the heavy sense of guilt that prevented him from seeing Hachi again.

A week after Hachi’s collapse his phone rang.

“Yamaguchi-san?” It was the same voice that directed him to sit in the clinic.

“Uh. Yeah.” No one had ever called him with that honorific. Ever.

“We’re happy to report that your dog is awake and alert.” Thank fucking god. “We…” he did not like that pause, “...also scanned for a chip and managed to contact his owners.” Oh. “We told them what happened, and they’re driving from Sapporo to pick him up.” How the hell did Hachi make it to the village all the way from Sapporo? “They would like to personally thank you for finding and taking—”

“No,” Inuyasha growled, then remembered to add, “thanks. Just let them know I’m paying.” 

“I know this is a little unorthodox, but they’re good people, I think you’ll like—”

He hung up.

He would go back to his routine. He would forget about Hachi. He would go back to being alone.

~*~

Little did Inuyasha know, Hachi had opened the proverbial floodgates and there was no stopping the invasion.

“Hello?” Inuyasha answered slowly. No one called him save for the automated bank calls, and he was damn sure no bank would program a call for the middle of the night.

“Listen, just hear me out before you hang up,” a familiar feminine voice spoke, tones clipped this time. “Someone dumped a litter of newborn puppies by the front entrance.”

“Wow. Asshole,” he said without thinking.

“I know! But most of the staff just left for summer break, we’re in the middle of breaking ground for a new research building and no one has the space and time. I mean, I’d foster them but my roommate already has a cat and there’s a one pet rule in my building. The nearest shelters are miles away and completely full. Miroku thinks the best option is to volunteer you for the job.”

“Oh...that’s…” He really should refuse. He was being volun-told by a stranger. “When should I pick them up?” Dammit.

“That’s the thing. Miroku’s already packed and ready to go. He’s going to drive up to your village ASAP.”

“I...umm…”

“I’m so sorry. I think Kaede-baa-san talked about you so much, it’s hard for us not to trust you, you know?”

“That’s...wait, did you say Kaede-baa—”

She hung up.

Fuck, she did that on purpose.

Less than an hour later, a pickup truck parked in front of the bridge. Inuyasha watched from his door, a strange mixture of anticipation and alarm twisting his stomach.

Miroku stepped out of the driver’s side and from the passenger’s side...Kikyo?

No, no, that’s not possible. Kaede’s granddaughter stopped dropping by with Kaede after he adamantly refused to move out of the village. He had been smitten, sure, but it was a teenage crush and this was his land, his, and she wanted a normal life, which most certainly meant not living in seclusion. Last he heard, she was studying to be a lawyer in Kyoto.

Miroku said something to the woman and she responded by smacking him upside the head. Nope, definitely not Kikyo.

“Thanks for doing this,” Miroku said once Inuyasha met them at the end of the bridge. He held up a box and inside there were five squirming black and white puppies. 

Inuyasha clamped his mouth shut. He was still upset at being volunteered against his will, yes he was.

Miroku held the box out, only to turn and hand it to the woman beside him. “You sure you got this?”

“As if I would’ve agreed to this if I wasn’t,” the woman said with the same clipped tones. Guess she was the woman on the phone. “C’mon, we need to get inside before the rain starts.”

Miroku shrugged, smiling all the same. “Alright, I’ll get the supplies from the back. Inuyasha, help me carry those in, and then I’ll be on my way.”

It was only after he dropped the last of the supplies in his living room and watched the pickup drive away in the rain did he notice one crucial detail. “Are you staying?”

The woman looked up from his favorite spot beside the kotatsu, a puppy in each hand. Inuyasha was pretty sure she was trying to look more innocent than she was. “It’s not like you know how to raise puppies. Name’s Kagome, by the way. Miroku’s my cousin, and I’m volunteering at the clinic this year. Could you get the formula? It’s time to feed the puppies.”

Well fuck.

There were five puppies and a human woman in his house. A proper hermit would kick them out and leave them out in the rain. 

He went to fetch the supplies. 

He was a terrible hermit.

“Newborn puppies need to be fed every two hours. At least.”

Inuyasha did not know this. He now knew this.

The half-demon could manage a solid week without sleep, but Kagome insisted she be awake to supervise the feeding so she readied an infuriatingly loud alarm clock and boy did he want to smash it into pieces. Then the puppies would whine and he was too distracted to stay angry.

So busy were they Inuyasha didn’t even realize they had made no proper sleeping arrangements until well after dawn. Then the puppies would whine and he was too distracted to ask Kagome.

On the third night, he returned from the bath to find Kagome sleeping in the living room sans alarm clock, presumably packed away, never to be seen again. The realization that she trusted him to feed the puppies hit him hard. It wasn’t a foreign feeling, the villagers had trusted him, but that had been years ago and the nostalgia…hurt. To top it all off, she trusted him enough to fall asleep in his house. 

The vulnerability in her unguarded expression went straight to his gut. He pondered what that meant, but then the puppies squirming around her whined and he was too distracted to ponder further.

Between the feedings, Kagome would divulge a few things about herself: She lived on a shrine in Tokyo (oh god a city girl), she took some time off after high school to work at the shrine and think about what she wanted to do with her life (now that was unusual for a Tokyo girl), she came to Hokkaido at Kaede’s suggestion (what an impulsive girl), and she could tell he was weirded out by all this from looking at his expression (uh...no, no he wasn’t).

After the seventh day, she slyly slid up to him with cell phone in hand. “You know, there’s someone who really wanted to thank you.”

“Huh?” he replied, still wiping a puppy’s paw.

She shoved the phone in his face before he could protest and there he was, wagging his bushy tail with his stupid tongue out.

“Thank you for finding our Hachi!” A little boy with a front tooth missing waved. “Grandpa and I missed him lots!”

“Thank you for keeping him safe all this time. Please drop by so we can thank you in person,” an elderly man said while bowing, a wrinkly hand holding onto a small cane.

“Yeah, I’m gonna give you my treasure! It’s a snake skin!” The little boy waved one last time before the recording stopped.

Inuyasha tried to say something, he really did. Yet the image of the elderly man with the cane shakily bowing stayed in his mind. He was too, too, too much like his late neighbors.

And holy shit the dog was named Hachi all along! Seems like he wasn’t the only uncreative pet namer in Japan.

Kagome’s warm, gentle hand pulled him out of his stupor. “C’mon, it’s feeding time.”

Of course, the puppies. Get the formula, use the dropper, get the paper towels, and repeat. This was a distraction, this was good. He just needed to think about the puppies. Formula, dropper, paper, repeat. Maybe close his eyes for a bit.

He fell asleep.

He, the damn half-demon, fell asleep.

Worse, he woke up with puppies pulling on his hair and a camera flash going off.

“Look, don’t we look adorable?” she said and flipped the camera phone to show him the photo. There he was, looking up at the camera half-awake with his hair splayed out on the tatami. Kagome was also looking up in the photo, opposite him and upside down, giving the camera a deceptively demure smile, her black hair similarly splayed out and over his silver hair. All over their contrasting hair, the black and white puppies were sitting or lying down. “I’m going to send this to my mom, if that’s okay with you.”

He groaned and threw an arm over his face. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You needed the rest. Besides, this was a picture perfect moment!” 

She was trying to kill him.

As he suspected, this was the first of many, many ‘picture perfect’ moments. Sometimes, he would have a lap full of puppies, with no way of escaping, only to hear “Cheese!” and the telltale flick of the shutter. Other times, he would be busy in the kitchen preparing the formula and out of the corner of his eye he would see her leaning on the doorframe, watching with that small little smile and her trusty Mr. Phone.

Worse, she got into the habit of wandering into the village when it was her turn to take a break and then come back with all sorts of questions.

“There’s a koi pond out back, why aren’t there any koi fish? What do you mean it’s unfinished?”

“Is that a guesthouse? That’s your shed!? It’s huge!”

“I saw a bunch of flowerpots, you should grow some flowers. Do ajisai grow around here? I loved seeing them whenever I walked home in the rain.”

“I was all the way out in the woods and I still had signal! You need to get a cell phone, you can’t rely on a landline forever! ...what do you mean there are BEARS?”

“My mom called and she said that photo of us was adorably perfect, can I post it online? I’m taking that grunt as a ‘Yes.’”

“What’s with all bank flyers on the front doors? Does the bank really own all the vacant houses?”

They built something of a routine. Luckily, this time, Inuyasha didn’t forget that she was a temporary resident.

Two weeks later, Miroku returned with the pickup truck. “Hope you two had a doggin’ good time!”

Kagome rolled her eyes as she hauled the nearly empty boxes into the back of the pickup. “Spare us, dear cousin. Sango-chan better be back today.”

“She and Shippo will be back by 3. We should have enough people until vaccination time, then we can work on finding foster homes. Speaking of the puppies, they grew fast!” Miroku said, and Inuyasha regrettably let the box of puppies go. “Thanks for all your help, my good man!”

“Yeah.” Inuyasha fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other. He never got used to saying goodbye.

“See you around, Inuyasha!” Kagome waved, one leg already in the truck. She held a bank flyer in her other hand, probably to show off to her city friends.

He watched the truck do a U-turn and disappear from sight.

He doubted they would see each other again.

~*~

He was wrong.

“There was a fire at the shelter.”

His power of comprehension always needed a few seconds to catch up whenever she called, which was getting frequent these days. “A fire?”

“The animal shelter. There was an electrical fire.”

Leave it to Kagome to drop a bombshell on him. “Holy fuck,” he cursed. “Are the puppies—did anyone—”

“The puppies are still at school. The volunteers got all the dogs out but some of them are being treated for smoke inhalation. We’re trying to help find shelters and foster homes but it’s a mess right now. You don’t mind if Miroku—”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he answered, unintentionally cutting her off. “Use my account to buy whatever you need.”

Miroku didn’t bring puppies this time. Inuyasha helped lead the Beagle mix, the Lab mix, and the Shiba Inu into the house. Miroku held out some papers for Inuyasha to sign, he assumed for the shelter to keep track of where their dogs went, and set about preparing their bowls and beds.

He quickly learned that the Beagle mix, Makura, was an old and heavy lap dog, and if Inuyasha sat down on the tatami, Makura would slowly but surely make his way from wherever he was in the house to rest on his favorite lap. The Lab mix, Kuriko, had a knack for sneaking into the kitchen and stealing his cookware. Why the cookware, he had no idea. The Shiba Inu, Pen-Pen, goddamn Pen-Pen, followed him. Everywhere.

Over the next few days, Miroku brought another Shiba Inu, a Chow Chow much to Inuyasha’s surprise, and a tiny little Chihuahua that wouldn’t stop shivering even on a warm autumn afternoon. The giant pile of dog food was starting to take over the living room, but he couldn’t move the kotatsu while Kuriko was sleeping on Inuyasha’s favorite spot beside the furniture.

One curious object hidden within the supplies had Inuyasha scratching his head. It was a large board with the words ‘HERMIT’S HAVEN’ etched into the wood. Stuck to it was a post-it note instructing him to hang it on the bridge for the visitors.

What visitors?

As usual, Kagome dropped the bombshell.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. It was Miroku’s idea, I didn’t think he’d actually make you sign anything without telling me first.” Well, she sounded apologetic.

Inuyasha stared into the distance, his sanity bidding him farewell. “My house’s now a dog shelter?”

“It doesn’t have to be your house. You’re a co-owner in name. Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Kagome said, a nervous smile evident in her voice. “We’ll take care of everything else.”

Shockingly, she was right. More dogs were brought in, more dog houses were bought and built. Nothing changed. 

Except for the visitors.

They weren’t even locals. Tourists from overseas were making a day trip from the resort town to see his village. He had no idea how word got out. A young fox demon from the school dropped in one day and mentioned pictures and Kagome’s insta-something or other, but he didn’t really get it.

Inuyasha tried to make himself scarce whenever tourists showed up. ‘Tried’ being the operative word because goddamn Pen-Pen kept giving him away. The visitors would spot him in the tree, ask if he was from the pictures, he would grunt, and they would leave money and dog treats in a donation box—what the hell, who put that donation box there? 

“You’re a good man for taking care of all these dogs,” a blue-eyed man towering over everyone else spoke in perfect Japanese, offering his hand with not an ounce of hesitation. He might’ve mentioned he was from Australia. 

Inuyasha reluctantly reached for the hand, and was jerked forward into a bear hug. 

If anyone tried to kiss him on the cheek, he was diving into the stream.

~*~

“What?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d be hired either! Crazy, right? But they were really short on staff and took Kaede’s recommendation seriously.”

“Uh, yeah, congrats.”

“Thank you, Inuyasha!”

He ignored the funny feeling that traveled down his spine. What was wrong with him, she only said his name! “But, err, after you said that, you said you and Miroku were moving into...”

“Weeeelllll,” there it was, that nervous smile in her voice, “you know how the bank is offering all the vacant houses for free?”

“I mean, free if you work and live here for years.”

“More than a decade, yup.”

“You’re going to...more than a decade…”

“Guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, neighbor.”

He should be glad. Two people he could tolerate moving into his village. 

The trucks were here before he could blink. The plan was to assess for renovations before moving in.

He should be glad.

“Inuyasha?” Miroku called. He stood outside Hiro’s old house. It was Miroku’s house now.

“I...gotta take a walk. Watch the dogs.”

“Take your time.”

Inuyasha hadn’t visited the graves since the puppies.

The elderly villagers had been old-fashioned, but loneliness had made them more social, so much so that dinner had to always be a village feast. Izayoi took up remodeling and enlarging a number of houses, just because she had the time, money and encouraging neighbors. As soon as Inuyasha learned to hunt, they had no problems accepting wild game from a half-demon. Then Izayoi fell ill…

Inuyasha was self-sufficient. It was alright, he had told himself, over and over again. Reality, and age, eventually caught up. The villagers’ children and grandchildren had moved to cities like Sapporo long ago. A few of the villagers relented and joined the young in the cities, but most had refused to leave. A couple of funerals later, the village became nothing but vacant and abandoned houses, and one half-demon.

He could have finished all those renovations, built that rock garden for Masa, lay out that trail from the woods to the koi pond so everyone had access, but he hadn’t.

Now, someone else would. Someone who would never know that Hiro dreamed of having a western-style fireplace, someone who would never know just how much Yumi loved her sunflowers, someone who could never understand just how much this village meant to him—

“Inuyasha?”

He grunted, but didn’t turn around.

Kagome sat down beside him. “Are you mad?”

“Not mad,” he answered without emotion, just as he rehearsed it.

“It’s not a problem, is it? Us moving here, I mean.”

“Not a problem.” Because it most certainly was not. “The bank gave it to ya. It’s all legal.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Kagome said quietly.

A long stretch of silence followed. Inuyasha knew he should say something, anything, and after nearly a year he thought it would be easier, but he had no words if the words weren’t about the dogs.

“Kaede-baa-san talked about you a lot,” Kagome said, mercifully. “She had a lot of friends here. And she’d always mention this one boy who'd help everyone with everything. It got hard for her, coming back here just to say goodbye to another friend. But she was most worried about the boy who refused to move out of the village.”

Kaede had asked him to move in with her. As kind as she was, he couldn’t bring himself to trust a city folk, not at the time. He would never ever admit it out loud, but hearing his apartment neighbors openly discuss if he fell under the ‘no pets rule’ had hurt.

“Kaede-baa-san is going to be at the school for a few days. You should drop by.”

“She worries too much.” 

“She likes you. I was a bit jealous for a while. You know, she kept your mom’s account at the school open just in case you wanted to use it. With the way she described you, though, I thought you’d be shy and scared of strangers. Imagine my surprise when you showed up with Hachi in your arms and leaves in your hair. Totally not what I expected.”

He tried to give a witty reply. Like how she surprised him too with her Oscar-worthy puppy dog eyes. Or how she had a bad habit of dropping bombshells, even now. Instead, all he managed was, “I should visit Hachi.”

Kagome beamed. “That’s a great idea.”

~*~

“I thought you were going back to Tokyo for Christmas.”

Kagome shrugged while peeling another tangerine. “I was too busy moving furniture and painting the walls. Totally forgot about buying the tickets.”

“Uh-huh.” Inuyasha was all too familiar with that tone. “But Miroku remembered, even though he was moving furniture and painting too.”

“I guess he’s just better at keeping track of time.”

“You’re weird for a city girl. Can’t keep track of time, wants to live in the middle of nowhere, what the hell?”

“I’m one of a kind. Now scooch over. Your trunk thighs are taking up space in the kotatsu.”

“Like I can, Makura’s on my lap and—dammit Pen-Pen, stop leaning on me!”

Kagome whistled. “Oh no, looks like I got competition. Better hide you away for bed time.”

Inuyasha muttered incoherently for a few seconds, his face turning seven different shades of red. “S-shut up.” Did she have to be so open about liking him?

But Kagome did like him. She especially liked him letting his guard down and falling asleep on the tatami with the dogs on top of him. She joined what she liked to call the ‘puppy pile’ and watched him nap, his chest slowly rising and falling despite the weight of Pen-Pen’s head.

The picture of her lying opposite Inuyasha with the black and white puppies had garnered a lot of attention. But Kagome definitely preferred lying next to him. 

Her eyelids grew heavy. Time for her to rest as well.

Flick, went the shutter. 

Kagome snickered. Send the picture to mom, and then rest.

~*~

AN: Puppy pile! 

This one shot got away from me. It was about a stray puppy bringing Inuyasha and Kagome together, and suddenly...this.

Haven’t had a fic get this out of control in a while.

[typewriterghcst]

Title: A Very Small Wish Fandom: The Cat Returns Characters: Baron, Muta, Toto, Haru, plus some OCs Rating: PGish maybe??  Words: 2797 Summary: A pleading request from a parent whose daughter has been cursed by a resentful witch is nothing truly out of the ordinary for the Cat Bureau— in fact, it might be so common so as to be routine— so why does something feel inherently off about this particular one?  Notes: Second chapter of six of a Secret Santa gift for @deedee-sunflowers. I had the realization that it actually takes a Bit for the witch part of this to show up, and I apologize for that orz That said, I'm so glad you liked it! Especially that they're all in character and that Vanya is interesting, aha. I worry a lot that he might be too grating, bc I definitely get a lot of enjoyment out of writing those kinds of characters, but I don't want them to also be irritating to sit through rip Anywho, a chapter in which Haru has a chat with a beloved monster i’m sorry that was a very vague shrek reference

                                      Ch. 2: Virtuous Siree

She might be hesitant to admit it, but Haru is almost disappointed to meet the cursed daughter, having halfway convinced herself in her unshakable unnerved skepticism that the Vanya creature had crafted her existence wholesale from lies and nothingness. Yet here she is, standing before them with her hands (hands? it’s hard to tell) folded in a mannerly fashion in front of her. Her long, golden veil is in much better shape than her father’s handkerchief, though the odd snag and rip is perhaps inevitable when one is in possession of what appears to be a pair of curly horns.

She is otherwise far from inconspicuous, as well; the gauzy shroud masking her person still reveals the aforementioned horns, and a pointed snout, and little hands adorned with inch-long claws. A long, hairless tail snakes out from behind her, curling at her feet like a sleeping dog.

Perhaps the most pressing thing, however, is that the same uneasy chill runs through Haru within this strange, half-concealed child’s presence as it does when her father is around. For the first time, she wonders if it’s not, in fact, her blunted human instincts furiously trying to warn her of Vanya’s true nature and simply a facet of his kind’s existence.

Vanya wanders into her line of sight again, standing beside his daughter with a laughably manic, skittish energy and reaching for her clawed hand. Haru notes the two are very nearly the same height. Yet, to hers (and probably the Bureau’s surprise, as well), he appears to have little trouble lifting her off the ground and holding her out to them, as if he’d worried they wouldn’t understand just how truly monstrous she’d become should he not bring her closer to their eyelines.

“This is my daughter, Virtuous Siree.” He seems to take a certain, special glee in saying so. “She is exquisitely cute! Like a baby. I’ve had her for years now.”

Virtuous Siree, though her face is obscured by the veil, seems unbothered by this treatment, inclining her head politely to their guests.

“Pleased to meet you.” Her voice echoes much like a lonely call in an empty stairwell, resulting in the definitively disorienting effect of two separate people speaking in unison.

“...And you, as well.” Baron is the first to recover from the oddness of the situation, removing his hat and bowing, and the rest of them follow suit shortly after (sans Muta, anyway, who gives a more characteristically terse greeting).

“Thank you, by the way,” Virtuous Siree then continues, as casually blithe as her father. “For taking the case. We are beyond aromatized to have obtained your assistance!”

Behind her, Vanya utters a noise somewhere between a squeal and a sob, and then hugs her close to him. “Cute! She’s too cute! Virtuous Siree, did you have a good day today?”

“Yes, Papa, I worked in the garden. The cherries are ripening on the vine! And I started a new painting when I was done.”

“Your funny prickly face horns are sticking me through my fur!” Yet, he appears to make no motions to pull away. (Haru sneaks an amused look at Muta; sure enough, the mystified frown on his own face makes it clear he’s as lost about how to feel about this interaction as she’d expected him to be.)

“How far of a journey is the Sown Forest from here, Vanya?”

The fox glances at Toto only from the very corners of his eyes at first, but the expression lacks even the most minuscule hint of suspicion. He pulls his face away from Virtuous Siree’s veiled one, placing her back on the ground with a happy coo.

“I can’t tell you how far, but it will take….” Here he counts futilely on his tiny paws again. “...eighteen-twenty minutes!”

“...You mean, eighteen to twenty minutes?”

Vanya hesitates, and here, now, it becomes obvious he’s beginning to pick up on Toto’s skepticism. When he answers this time, he’s back to his by now expected plaintive offense.

“Time works differently in Oostal! I’m only a little creature from Oostal, and I don’t know your Earthical time measurements!” He cries.

“Papa’s trying his best,” Virtuous Siree interjects with the modest passion one might expect from a shy girl her age, patting her father on the paw.

“To focus on the pretty Vanya Creature’s tenuous grasp of a time he’s never used before when his cute daughter is at risk of being cursed forever!”

“Yeah, birdbrain, that’s real heartless of ya,” Muta can’t help but add (a marked testament to how much he enjoys antagonizing the crow, if even his antipathy for the Vanya creature doesn’t see him pass up the opportunity.)

“But if time works differently, how are we meant to keep track of how long we have?” Toto asks, side-eyeing Muta with no small degree of smug amusement. (For his part, Muta seems uncertain whether to take this abrupt subject change as a surrender or a snub.)

“Use a pocket watch,” is Vanya’s dismissive reply.

Baron finds himself rather suddenly the object of vested interest for three pairs of eyes; Muta, Haru, and Toto all three almost instantly turn to him. He looks from each one to the other in moderate bemusement for mere seconds before his shoulders relax in a subtle show of resignation.

“Yes, I have one with me.”

“Wouldn’t have been you if you didn’t,” Toto teases with a smile.

“Of course,” Baron deigns to play along with a faintly put-upon tone.

“Where’s that witchy paper you said you got, anyway?” Muta asks Vanya. “The one that says it’s okay for you to get help from strangers. Don’t think I forgot about it,” he ends with crabbily.

“I left it on the table!” Vanya replies with a matching huff, less than humored by Muta’s skepticism.

Here Virtuous Siree jumps to contribute, expression molded into a contrite, abashed frown, “Oh, no— Papa, those papers got blown away earlier today! I-I opened the door to go out into the garden, and a bigly strong gust blew in!”

“Seriously—?”

“They blew up into the surrounding trees,” Virtuous Siree continues, more chastened than before in the face of Muta’s apparent exasperation, a reaction which seems to give the cat some considerable pause. “I couldn’t reach them.”

Vanya pats her head.

“It’s no significant loss that they did! We can search for them when I go to pick up the leg up in our sleeves.”

The perplexed silence which settles after Vanya’s words lingers heavily, but at least only briefly.

“Oh,” Toto first responds with a dawning amusement and the slightest of laughs. “You have something in mind to help make these tasks less of a struggle.”

Vanya nods enthusiastically, giving no indication of having discerned their earlier confusion, nor why Toto then felt the need to clarify. His tail, also, curls into an excitable question mark shape before relaxing again.

“It will take just a moment— I hid it in the root cellar with the other cates.”

“And the root cellar is—?”

“At the edge of the property, by the fence.”

“Very well. It shouldn’t take us long, I think, but we ought to depart right away. Please lead the way, Mr. Vanya.”

“I’ll stay here,” Haru speaks up. “I’d feel a little bad leaving Virtuous Siree all alone again, even if it is just a few minutes— I don’t mind keeping her company. I mean—” Here she turns to the girl herself with a sheepish expression, hands folded bashfully behind her back. “ —if she doesn’t mind my company, of course.”

“I don’t mind!” Virtuous Siree responds with a resolute shake of her head.

“Good, goods!” Vanya agrees in delight. There’s yet another almost cat-like expression of affection from him, rubbing his cheek against Siree’s as he swings their joined hands. “Play nice, Cute Siree. We’ll be back before you know it!”

                                                          &&&

The little house in which Vanya and Virtuous Siree have made their home is in all honesty not all that strange to Haru. At least, in the sense that it has walls and doors and windows, and furniture with purposes that are easy enough to grasp upon laying eyes on them. Yet two things still stand out to her as unusual. 

The first is that the walls, if not the house entirely, give the rather distinct impression that the entire thing had been carved from an enormous gourd or another hardy vegetable of sorts. When Haru furtively lays a hand on one of the few unoccupied walls, she finds she can’t discern the material by sight or touch.

The outside of the house hadn’t struck her as so outlandish. It certainly hadn’t appeared to be a massive vegetable.

The second, as previously alluded to, is that almost every available surface is buried beneath an arbitrary variety of countless objects— threadbare coats, rusted silverware, broken trinkets.

Distantly, Haru recalls Vanya’s pithy words regarding his shattered teacup— waste not. Seems he kept that particular aphorism close to his heart.

Vanya’s daughter has claimed a spot at the round table in the middle of the room, perched precariously on a wobbly stool with a set of messy watercolor paints and a well-worn brush.

Her face is still hidden, but Haru can still tell her companion (Virtuous Siree, as her father has stubbornly referred to her, and it’s still a terribly odd name to Haru) is shyly stealing glances at her, one after the other, before quickly looking away again, back to her painting.

“Can I draw something, too?” Haru eventually asks to divert the tension.

Virtuous Siree jumps on the distraction. “Oh, yes! You can! Papa always keeps plenty of paper and paints around for me!”

The girl jumps off her stool and scurries to a cabinet across the room, behind a pile of ostensible scarves and socks (the cabinet itself also piled high with an unimaginably diverse array of items— hairbrushes, hats, and tattered books, just to name a few.) In a snap, Virtuous Siree has an identical spot to her own set up at the table beside her for Haru.

“Here you are! Would you like a flat or a round brush..?”

Haru, having never been much a painter, finds herself somewhat stumped at the question, glancing back and forth between the two brushes for a half-minute before sheepishly speaking up. “Actually, this is silly, but do you have anything more fit for an amateur? I don’t do much drawing, and I’d hate to waste some of your good materials.”

Virtuous Siree laughs, a short, girlish noise that quite comically clashes with her unnatural-sounding voice, and waves her hand. “Don’t be silly, I have plenty of materials. You can’t waste them if you used them to do something fun.”

“O-Oh… Well, I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“If you want to start slow, though, hmm…” Virtuous Siree scampers across the room again, stooping to look in her cabinet; Haru hears her shuffle various objects around as she searches for something specific. “Oh! I have some wax crayons. They’re a little used, though.”

“Oh, that’s okay. They’ll be perfect.”

It’s when Haru is settled again, this time staring down at a sheaf of brown, grainy papers— thick, heavy, with a distinct weave to the tiny fibers that must make up the sheets— that she finds herself beset by another stumbling block. She hasn’t drawn anything since she was a child, and those childish scribbles had consisted mostly of attempts at whatever animals had caught her eye.

Absently, she wonders if her skills have managed to budge past their old level. Probably not. But, there’s no time like the present to find out, she supposes. She’ll try drawing Baron.

“What does the name Virtuous Siree mean?”

Virtuous Siree gives a pensive noise. “You don’t have to call me Virtuous Siree. Just Siree is fine. Only Papa calls me Virtuous Siree-- he added the first part a little while ago.”

“Okay, Siree, then. If you like, you can call me just Haru.”

“I’ll do that!” Then, remembering what Haru’s original question was, she adds diffidently, “‘Siree’ is just a filler word in Oostal’s language, but it has a-- umm, an implication of emphasis. It’s what you use to boost the feelings in what you’re trying to get across when you can’t remember a word.”

Haru pauses in her attempt to color in one of Baron’s eyes. “Does that mean your name with the addition of ‘Virtuous’ is kind of like saying ‘really virtuous?’”

“It is!” Siree admits with an almost embarrassed laugh. “Papa’s very silly sometimes.”

To herself, Haru thinks that sounds like yet another vast understatement.

“...Have you ever dealt with witch’s magic before?” Virtuous Siree asks.

“Not…. witch’s magic, no. At least, I don’t think so. But I was transformed into a cat once,” Haru says, carefully drawing a spiral on her paper with a yellow crayon (her interpretation of the sun. It won’t do to put crayon scribble Baron into a rainy, sad environment, after all).

“What’s a cat?” Siree asks.

“Oh— um. It’s an… an animal from my world. They look a little like your father, but a little bigger. Oh! Actually, Muta and Baron-- well, Muta is a cat, but Baron just looks like one.” Then, abruptly remembering Siree has been cursed and must therefore look quite similar to her father under normal circumstances, Haru hastily adds, “I-I guess they’d look like you, too, wouldn’t they?”

Siree nods slightly, even though she hasn’t looked away from her own painting. When she speaks, her voice is soft, shy again.

“They're cute. I wish I could be cute, too, like Papa. Or, um, like I was.”

Somewhere, that gentle, beseeching string of words tugs at an old fear, one that had been allayed rather completely with the return to her normal form but not altogether forgotten— that of losing her familiar reflection. What was on the inside ultimately wouldn’t have changed, and there had always been little flaws in her human appearance she could have spent hours complaining about, but… in the end, her face, her humanness, had been held more dear by her than she could ever have realized without being transformed against her will.

“Don’t worry,” Haru finds herself saying. “Baron and the Bureau managed to rescue me from becoming a cat. They’ll do the same for you, no problem. You just wait. You’ll be your old self in no time.”

Siree’s brushstrokes slow and then stop altogether. She moves so that Haru knows she must be studying her thoughtfully, and the very knowledge of Siree’s no doubt unblinking, pensive gaze trained intently on her is enough to give her goosebumps again.

“...You’re very kind,” the girl eventually remarks. Then, finally looking away (Haru’s pretty sure, at least), she adds, “I like that. I hope you make it out safe.”

“I have the Bureau,” Haru says surely. “I’ll be fine.”

“Well, I hope they stay safe, too,” Siree adds.

As if wise to the fact they’d been the subject of the past few moments of conversation, the Bureau (accompanied, of course, by Vanya) arrive just seconds after with the familiar sound of the beginnings of an altercation between Muta and Toto. Vanya again wastes little time in hugging Siree.

“You’re back,” Haru says in the meantime. “Are we good to go now, then?”

“Yeah,” Muta breaks off his disagreement with Toto to answer with a shrug. “Whatever the pipsqueak picked up, it didn’t take long.”

“It’s a surprise!” Vanya protests, turning a haughty gaze upon Muta. Then, thoughtfully, he amends, “...A good surprise.”

Haru, thinking of Vanya’s original haste in returning to his daughter, and seeing perhaps the same veiled concern in Baron’s and Toto’s faces, nudges the avian Creation beside her, and… well, bless him, Toto takes very little time to speak up for them all.

“Will Virtuous Siree be alright here all by herself?”

Vanya rocks back and forth a few times, dragging poor Siree with him (though she seems unbothered, at least). “Yes, yes, Virtuous Siree is safe here. There are neighbors! ...In fact, if she feels scared, she should go next door to Mr. Gleb.” This spoken directly to Siree, despite the odd choice in phrasing.

“I will, Papa,” Siree answers without hesitation.

It’s here that Vanya lets her go with one last delighted chirrup, bounding over to the door and the Bureau and darting outside. Before following suit (...somewhat), Haru turns back to the girl and flashes her a reassuring smile.

“Bye, Siree! Stay safe, and don’t worry— we’ll get you all fixed up.”

“I know you will!”

As far as Haru can tell, Siree continues waving until they can’t see each other, and something about the dedication instills a certain amount of similar sentiments in Haru.

[necrokittytales]

Necrokitty Tales: Trouble in Inkwell Isle (Chapter 29)

Authors’ note: Necrida’s writing will be in italics and SPKC’s writing with be regular font. If you have no idea what this roleplaying thing is, you can start from the beginning here. NSFW here!

(A long time coming - sorry about this, totally on SPKC for this one - got nailed by life in general. An extra long, action packed chapter to make up for it!)

———————————————————————————

“What is taking him so long?!” Sullivan said, dress up in a blue Hawaiian shirt, a white cap and white shorts. “It’s only been like five minutes! Calm down already. You’re making me nervous,” Hilda snapped. She was similarly disguised, wearing a white cloth on her head, red sunglasses and a white dotted red dress. 

Carlos had told them he would get the tickets and asked them to wait for him near the bridge to the third isle. The waiting was starting to make both of them antsy but Sullivan’s whining was the straw to break Hilda’s back if he kept yapping. Thankfully, after a few more minutes, Carlos returned. He walked calmly towards them with a big smile on his face. 

"Finally!” Sullivan yelled, “What took you so long?” “You can’t rush love, mi amigo…” The cat said, holding two tickets. Sullivan and Hilda looked at each other, preferring not to ask any more questions and just took the tickets. “Two tickets…So you’re not coming?” the salamander asked. “I will accompany you, my friend, but I don’t need one to get in,” he assured with a wink. They arrived at the hive and got in the line for the visitors. When they arrived at the door, a very slim male bee asked to see their tickets. Sullivan and Hilda showed theirs. The bee turned to Carlos who smiled charmingly at the bee. “I’m here for Beatrice,” the cat informed him. The bee narrowed his eyes. “…There’s 235 Beatrice’s in this hive, sir…” “I’m here for THE Beatrice,” Carlos repeated. The bee opened his eyes wide. “THE Beatrice?” Carlos nodded, smiling even more. “…A moment, please.” He stepped behind the reception desk and made a phone call. The three saw the look of surprise in the receptionist’s face. He hung up the phone wordlessly before returning to the group. “..eh… Mr. Buenaventura?” “At your service.” The cat tipped his hat. “.. She’s asked for you to wait for her at the Main Hall,” he said, still looking at the cat, skeptical. “Muchas gracias!” Carlos waved and walked, whistling happily next to the other two, who were as surprised as the receptionist. They entered the hive and quickly followed the group of tourists before finally arriving in a circular hall as tall as several stories of the hive. There was buzzing sounds and movement everywhere they looked. The visitors group gathered in the center and four guards accompanied them. A very small female bee greeted the tourists and started explaining the history of the hive. Sullivan and Hilda tried to remain behind the group and be as discreet as possible as they tried to figure out where the prison was. After the speech was over, the guide asked the group to move forward to a corridor that would take them to the honey factory. “Vaya! That was surprisingly interesting,” Carlos said, happy to have learnt something new. “Say, how much do we owe you for the tickets?” Sullivan asked, grateful. “Your friendship!” Carlos replied patting him in the back. “I would do anything to help love soar. Now you two go ahead and save your loved ones, and live your happily ever after!” Sullivan’s eyes brightened. “Thank you, Carlos! I will never forget this!” He shook his hand. Hilda rolled her eyes. “Happily ever after…pff…” She mumbled, crossing her arms and blushing slightly. “Carlos!” A female voice called from behind the hispanic cat. The cat turned around to see an impressive bee fluttering toward him. “Oh! There you are my beautiful sunshine!” He greeted the large female bee guard wearing her uniform. “Sorry I made you wait.” “No need to apologize, it was actually very instructive,” he explained, gesturing to the tour group. The bee looked at her wrist watch. “I only have an hour before I need to go back to work…” “Then let us not waste time!” He offered her his arm and walked towards the mess hall. Carlos turned and shot a wink at Hilda and Sullivan before disappearing into the crowd. “Hey! Keep up or you’ll be kicked out” One of the guards flanking the tour group yelled at Sullivan and Hilda, forcing them to return back to the group.

____

Amber bounded through a beautiful field full of catnip. She wasn’t sure how she arrived here but it was a welcome respite from her ordeal in the hive. The wonderful sun felt warm on her fuzzy body and she couldn’t help but rejoice in this new experience. She pounced and leapt and napped. This was the best day ever! She thought it couldn’t get any better when a dark shadow rose over from behind. She turned around to see a very monstrous looking Cagney. “I’m gonna to eat you!” He roared. Her eyes went wide. “No! No! Don’t eat me!” She tried to run away but found she couldn’t move. She looked down to see the field was turning to mud under her feet. She tried to run faster only for his large gnarled hands to seize her. She waved her paws pathetically. “Wait, wait! I’m not very tasty! I’m all fur!” “You’ll be a delicious pussy!” He growled as he lifted her up in the air above his face. She almost groaned at the pun…until she realized it wasn’t a pun. The flicking of his tongue between her legs made her tail shoot straight up. “Wait, wait!” Amber shrieked, pushing down her suddenly way too short skirt.

He continued to lash at her entrance and she bucked and squirmed helplessly. “Ooh, uh wait? No, a little to the right. Yeah, ah!” Amber mewled starting to enjoy the attention. She threw her head back and felt something sharp poke her. Amber woke up with a startled gasp, looking around wildly. When she realized she wasn’t being stabbed, she sighed. “Just a dream. Just a really messed up dream!” She exhaled, trying to shift only to find herself unable to do so. She looked down to see a pair of green, leafy limbs wrapped around her body, holding her snuggly. She glanced behind her to see Cagney dead asleep to the world, snoring. Was he…cuddling her? That was kinda cute? He was mumbling something about a blimp and rubbing his petals into her back, every now and then poking her with a thorn. That thorn part was less cute. She remained where she, scrunching her nose as she couldn’t remember why they were here together. There was a knock at the door and Amber jerked fully awake as Cagney groaned. Holy crap, how could she forget? They were in the hive. Queen Rumor’s hive, to be precise. And it was quickly becoming a dangerous place to be for anything non-insect. 

Although Cagney would probably disagree with that statement, she remembered, spotting the bandanna around his neck. It was imbued with some form of magic curse that turned this flower into a mindless vegetable, subservient to the crazy Queen. The Queen would be most displeased to find the feline here within Cagney’s quarters and Amber did not want to stick around to find out what punishment would lie in store for her. “Gotta go, stay safe, Cagney,” Amber whispered, wriggling out of his grip as the door started to unlock. She climbed up the wall into the rafters just as the door opened. Cagney felt around and blinked unsuredly. “Amber?” He asked. The cat was gone.

Rumor opened the door slowly, holding the scepter tightly in her hand “..Sorry for waking you up,” she spoke coldly, glancing at the salted water and locking the door behind her. “Just came here to check on you.” She pointed her scepter at the water and turned it back to dirt.

Cagney brightened considerably at seeing the bee. “Good morning, Rumor…it’s morning, right?” He stood up, still hesitant eyeing what used to be the salt water. “Listen, I kinda want to apologize for what happened yesterday. When I’m in that form, I don’t have the best control and it just really wrecks my ability to think.”

Rumor’s heart melted at the carnation’s apology, but she kept her cool facade. “You’ve turned into that before?” She asked, a bit relieved that it wasn’t her bandanna's doing.

He nodded. “Yeah, one of the ‘perks’ when I traded my soul to look like this,” he gestured to his body. “It’s kind of my body’s way to defend myself if things get really bad…or if I get really angry.” He stretched. “Still wasn’t strong enough to stop Cuphead and Mugman when they collected our contracts,” he chuckled.

The Queen’s look softened. “Why where you angry before? Was it something I said?” She played the scene again in her head, blushing heavily.

He hesitated. “I don’t think it was anything you did. Maybe I was just anxious about becoming a royal gardener. I mean, do I have to make public appearances and stuff?” He asked.

“That’s what’s bugging you?” She smiled sweetly, getting close to him and taking his hands. “You just have to keep doing what you’ve been doing in your own garden. Except, in here… with me…” She got closer to his face, encouraging the plant to kiss her.

The carnation perked up at the touch of the bee and nuzzled her with his petals. “You’re a doll, Rumor,” he sighed happily. He eyed the spot on the bed that had been occupied just a few minutes before and brightened even more. “By the way, I really want to thank you for sending in your special service guard last night.”

Rumor’s soft look disappeared. “what are you talking about?”

Cagney nodded, not noticing the change. “Ya know, Amber. The cat I was fighting with? She came in and told me all about how you recruited her for the special guard thing ya had and how she was here to protect me.” “And I gotta admit, I never petted a cat before, but she was pretty soft. Definitely helped relieve some of my stress!” He exclaimed with a chuckle, “I don’t even know when we fell asleep but it was probably one of the best sleep I’ve had in a while! It was like holding a warm teddy bear. With teeth.” The carnation showed Rumor his hand where the cat had bit him. “She bites pretty hard if you touch the wrong spot. Gotta make sure to stroke correctly.” He pressed a kiss to Rumor’s cheek. “So, what’s the plan for today?” He asked cheerfully. He paused at the expression on her face. “Something I said?” 

____

The Queen Bee stormed out of the room. “Guards! GUARDS!” She screeched loudly and almost instantly a couple of guards, armed with spears, appeared on the corridor. “Yes, my Queen!?” They both answered. “Seal the hive. Nobody gets in or out! Look for the small cat we caught the other day at the docks with Cagney, and bring me the responsible bee of the prisoner transfer to the camp!” The guards nodded and immediately flew to carry her orders. An alarm blared and the hive became a buzz with commotion with windows and gates quickly being sealed. 

Cagney followed Rumor out, looking really confused. “But she was wearing one of these?” He pointed out, gesturing to his bandanna. He doubted Rumor could hear him.

Rumor turned to Cagney, even more confused and angry. “What? What did she tell you? What did you do in there?” Jealousy started to sting her heart. “My Q-queen!” Beatrice, the giant female bee guard, flew towards them, exhausted. “I-I’m sorry - I was-!” “Silence! Escort Cagney to my chambers. Nobody but me goes in or out!” Rumor yelled at the tired bee who nodded and made a sign for Cagney to follow her. “We’ll talk later” Rumor said to Cagney before flying down the corridor, leaving him alone with the bee.

____

“And that’s how we manufacture the delicious honey we all enjoy!” The small female guide announced, holding a jar of Rumor’s honey. “Are there any questions?”  

Hilda and Sullivan seemed a bit traumatized by what they had seen but at the question of the tour guide, they quickly snapped out of it. “This is a waste of time,” Sullivan loudly murmured to Hilda. “We got to find a way to get out of the group!” As if an answer to his prayers, an alarm suddenly blared loudly throughout the hive. “Attention please! A fugitive has escaped. For your safety, please remain indoors and cooperate with the guards!” The bees started to fly in an organised fashion to their homes and places to shelter themselves. The tourist group though, started screaming and running to the nearest exits. The guards were trying to keep them together but they were too many to control. Hilda smiled, grabbed Sullivan’s hand and ran away from the group, back towards the main hall.

____

Cagney allowed the large guard bee to lead him away as Rumor flew off. He couldn’t help but notice the fur on her uniform. “I think you got some fur on your pants…and your chest,” he pointed out, realizing midway through his observation that this was probably not the time to be pointing this out to the clearly stressed out but yet simultaneously relaxed looking bee. He cleared his throat and changed the topic. “So, eh, any chance I could go looking for the intruder too?” He asked hopefully. 

Beatrice immediately cleaned the fur from her uniform and cleared her throat, ignoring her red cheeks. “You heard the Queen. No one in, no one out” They reached Rumor’s office and the guard opened the door for Cagney, signaling him to enter. “I’ll be guarding the door." 

Cagney entered the room only to hear it lock behind him. He turned around and tugged on the door knob uselessly. "I’m getting really sick of being the damsel in distress around here,” he grumbled. He looked around his surroundings, trying to see if there were another exit. 

The big window that allowed the light to come in, was now sealed shut. The only light came from several small lamps hung around the room. The lamps illuminated the walls in Rumor’s chambers revealing them to be covered by books, perfectly arranged on the shelves. A few books were laid on the ground opened and stacked. 

With no easy exit, and nothing else better to do, Cagney flopped himself down on Rumor’s bed and began to play with his petals. “Ugh, hopefully Rumor fixes things up so I can get out of here.” He hummed to himself, “Maybe I could make friends with some friendly woodland creatures or sing a song or…” He jerked back up. “Oh my God, I AM turning into a damsel!” He spotted Rumor’s patch of garden and gave a slight smile. “Well, at least that’s something.” He rooted himself within the dirt and started to strengthen himself, especially since he was still feeling pretty sapped from the salt water. 

____

Having escaped the tour group, Hilda and Sullivan now looked around, trying to find a sign or some indication of where the prison cells were. Although there were thankfully no guards in sight, there was also nothing else but hundreds of bees flying in perfect lines to their shelters. “Arg! How can they live without any signs?!” Sullivan groaned in desperation. “Let’s just think for a second!” Hilda exclaimed. She paused and thought. “If you build a prison here, where would you put it?” Sullivan seemed to be thinking but before he could come up with an answer, Hilda spoke again. “Underground! No windows, only the doors you build, it’s perfect to lock up people!” She exclaimed. They found a set of stairs going down and they ran towards it. “I can’t help but be nervous that you were able to think of this so quickly!” Sullivan admitted as they descended, “and so enthusiastically…” he couldn’t help but add.

____

Amber ran like hell through the halls, using all four paws to propel her tiny furry body like a speeding bullet, whizzing past confused bees and tourists alike. Looks like Cagney had blabbed and very soon she wouldn’t have an exit. And without an exit, then it was only a matter of time before the guards found her. Then she might actually end up wearing a real piece of jewelry instead of the fake one she currently sported. One that turned her brain to mush. She scurried along the top part of the main hall but paused at the sound of a familiar voice.

Amber knew that voice. That was Sully! She saw him and an unfamiliar looking woman running toward the set of stairs leading into the dungeon and she nimbly leapt down behind them. “Hi, Sully! Looking for me?” She called out, striking a pretty pose.

Sullivan turned to the voice behind him and his eyes brightened at the sight of his beloved feline. “Amber!” He hugged her tightly. “I was SO worried about you! What did they do to you? Did they hurt you?” He asked, turning her around to look for wounds.

Amber allowed Sully to check her for wounds. “Aw, I’m okay! Nothing I can’t handle." 

Hilda looked around, hoping to see her friend any second now. "Where’s Cagney?” Amber looked at the woman and realized who she was. “Oh….you’re Hilda, aren’t you?”

Hilda lowered her sunglasses to have a better look at the cat. “Have we met?”

“Officially? No. From what Cagney told me or, uh tried to tell me when he could,” Amber admitted, “I figured you had to be her." 

She glanced aside and pulled them into a side hallway as a patrol buzzed by. She glanced at Sullivan. "This place is a looney bin, Sully. You shouldn’t have come, although it’s awfully romantic that you have,” she purred.

The salamander blushed. “Gee, well, of course I had to come. They took you without even hearing you out! It was all a misunderstanding.” He paused, looking at the patrol fly by. “Yeah, yeah, get a room!” Hilda snapped at them. “Where’s Cagney?” She hesitated. “…And what exactly did he say about me?” She asked, her curiosity stronger than her survival instinct.

Amber would have to break the news to Sully eventually. Especially considering there were nearly a 100 eye witnesses placing her at the scene of the crime, it was only a matter of time before he found out. But now was not the time. She turned to Hilda. “Well, last I saw, he was locked in his room. And do you wanna know what he said before or after he got brainwashed?” She asked, smoothing down her fur.

Hilda raised an eyebrow. “His room? Since when does he-brainwashed!? What are you talking about!?”

The cat groaned. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on here. After we got arrested and tossed in jail, the Queen talked to Cagney and he must have pissed her off something royal-” she hated herself for the accidental pun- “Because the next morning, they came down to the prison talking about taking us to reprogramming camps or something like that.” She shuddered. “A lot of the bees are acting really weird, more weird than normal after they all went to this reprogramming thing so I busted us out. We were doing pretty well until we ended up in the Queen’s office and uh…Cagney couldn’t hide in time.”

Amber motioned for them to duck down with her behind a cleaning trolley. “It was the Queen and some scary ant lady. And guards. Lots of guards. She scampered down another hallway. "He and Rumor started yelling at each other until she made him put on this stupid cloth and the next thing I know he’s acting just as weird as those bees, going all gaga for the queen!”

Sullivan noticed the cloth on Amber’s neck. Before she could speak any further, he grabbed the feline and pinned her facing against the wall. Hilda nearly jumped in surprise. “What are you doing!? Has everyone gone insane today?!” She exclaimed, yanking off her glasses. “I’m so sorry!” The amphibian apologized profusely as he carefully removed the bandanna. “How do you feel now?” he asked once it was removed from Amber’s neck,  “Are you still mind controlled?” Hilda facepalmed herself.

Amber turned bright red, feeling the salamander press into her from behind. “Sully, trust me I’d love to but now is not the time-oh!” She chuckled. “Oh, that’s just a cleaning rag I swiped from one of the janitorial trolleys! Fooled old grumpy petals last night into letting me crash the night with him so I didn’t get caught.”

Sullivan released Amber. “Oh boy! I-I-I’m so sorry!” He blushed and felt horrible for being so bold with her. 

Amber’s face turned serious. “No, the real one doesn’t come off.  And that’s a big problem. It’s messing with his mind. Every minute he’s starting to forget stuff. He’s having trouble remembering why he came here! He can’t even say your name anymore!”

Hilda felt a slightly jealous at twinge the mention of the cat sleeping with Cagney, but the thought quickly stepped away at the idea of her dumb weed forgetting completely about  her. She shook away her thoughts, focusing on their situation and how dangerous it had quickly become. She paid more attention to the bees around them and noticed that the worker ones had a bracelet, while the higher ranking bees had bandannas around their necks. “The cloth must be more powerful than the bracelets,” Hilda concluded, talking more for herself than for them. She pulled off for her own cloth on her head and tied it around her neck. “Sullivan, wear the cat’s cloth! We’ll pretend we are brainwashed that we found the fugitive and we are on our way to deliver her to Rumor."  She turned to Amber. "You think you can take us to Cagney?”

Amber nodded. “Yeah, I last saw him locked into the room. But there’s a good chance Rumor moved him to hers when the alarm went off.” Amber scratched her ears. “Which one do you want me to take you to?”

Hilda sighed, starting to get anxious. “I guess the best option is going to Rumor’s directly. That way if he isn’t there she might tell us where he is.” Sullivan nodded as he tied the fabric around his neck.

Amber nodded once more. “Okay, then hold onto me like you’re taking me prisoner and I’ll whisper directions to you." 

Hilda, Sully and Amber traveled through the hive, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, which was rather hard to do when you were a human, a lizard and a cat in a hive full of bees. However, Hilda had that natural 'approach me and die’ look to her that deterred most bees from asking any questions and they were able to make it to Rumor’s door soon enough. As they neared the door - and the large bee guarding it - Amber’s fur suddenly went on end and she hissed.

"HALT!” The guard shouted. “ What’s going on here?” She demanded, extending her arm signaling them to stop. They obeyed but Sullivan couldn’t help but tremble, nervous at the sight of the imposing figure. 

“We are taking the fugitive to Rumor” Hilda said, keeping her cool. Beatrice eyed them skeptically before looking at their bandannas. “Rumor is not here. Who gave you the order?” She growled. Hilda gulped but remained still. “Beatrice,” she said, knowing that there where more than 200 Beatrices living in the hive. “Beatrice who?” The bee started to reach to her gun. Hilda was about to reply 'Smith’ when Carlos appeared from another hallway. “Ah! Ahí estás, my sunshine! You left me wanting more,” he smiled charmingly, leaning against the door and waving a pair of handcuffs, one side still attached to his wrist. The large bee looked at him, surprised, and then reddened. “H-how…?” “I told you I was full of surprises,” he purred. He noticed the group and gave them a smile. “Is this the fugitive I keep hearing about?” “Y-yeah,” Beatrice admitted, “But, uh, I’m not sure~” “Great! Then YOU can turn off the alarm and WE can finish what we started.” He shook the cuffs, smiling mischievously. Beatrice was really tired of guarding the door. She took one more look at the group, trying to figure out if they were really brainwashed. “Who did you say gave you the order?” “Uhh..” Hilda was caught by surprise, but Sullivan quickly intervened. “Beatrice! You know… the one with the…” He did a gesture with his opened hand circling his face. The guard opened her eyes widely. “Oh! Beatrice Smith?” Hilda grunted. “I thought she had to leave because of the wax incident.” The bee mimicked the same gesture around her face. “Y-yeah, uh… ” “The fugitive hid in her home,” Hilda intervened, noticing Sullivan was running out of material. Carlos signaled Beatrice to get lower and whispered something in her ear. The group saw the bee blushing and they both started giggling. It was comical to see the large, tall bee being all cute with the smaller skinny cat. “Fine! Fine. You can leave the prisoner here.” She unlocked the door. “I’ll go call Rumor."  Beatrice flew away through the corridor. When she was out of the way, Carlos applauded the trio. "Bravo! Bravísimo! Honestly, I never thought you were going to make it”

Amber cautiously watched Carlos. “What’s he doing here? Who is this?” She asked Sully as Hilda strode towards the door and fiddled with it

“He’s a friend, he helped us get in the hive,” Sullivan answered Amber, letting her go when the bee left. Carlos made a small bow and smiled charmingly.

Amber stuck close to Sully. “If you say so,” she acquiesced. Hilda opened the door with a shove, eager to see her friend again. “Cagney! Cagney?” She called out looking around the office and noticing the Queen’s chambers door open. Cagney’s head jerked toward the office at the familiar voice. “Hi-hello?” He tried, peeking out..

“Cagney!” Hilda smiled and ran towards him to give him a hug. “What are you doing in here?”

Cagney saw the slender woman running toward him and instinctively put out his hands to stop her from touching him. “Woah! Lady, ya can’t just run at a guy like that!” He cocked his head. “And how do you know my name? Have we met?”

Hilda stopped and looked at him, surprised, not really certain if he was joking or not. “How do I know your name? It’s me! Hilda!” She waited for his reaction. “Hilda Berg? The sky witch? Your best friend?”

Amber heard the shouting coming from the bed chambers and face palmed. “Oh shoot, it doesn’t sound like he remembers. Give me your bandanna, Sully.”

Sullivan gave Amber the fabric, wondering what she was planning to do. Cagney twitched at the name but he didn’t know why. His throat started to itch but he ignored it to keep looking at the woman. “Best friend?” He echoed before shaking his head. “Nah, Rumor and me are besties. You sure you don’t have your flowers messed up?” He asked, uprooting himself slightly.

“Wha…?” Hilda felt a knot starting to form in her throat. “I’M your bestie!” Tauros was starting to take room in the woman’s head. “You only like her because she’s a bee!”

Cagney scoffed. “Uh, no! She’s actually a very intelligent bee. And nice…when you know, she’s not turning dirt into salt water,” he admitted with a chuckle. Amber scampered in, wearing her bandanna. “Hi, Cagney!” Cagney looked past Hilda to see Amber. “Hey. Did you know Rumor’s looking for you?” His eyes hardened. “And did you also know she also says you’re lying about being a secret guard?” Amber pshawed. “Whhhattt? No way! If I was lying, why would I be here? Wouldn’t I be running away?” He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you run away this morning?” Amber paused. Shoot. He had a point. She broke into a wide smile. “Seems like you’re having a really stressful day so far!” “You can say that again. Rumor’s furious, this broad says I’m her friend,” Cagney jutted a thumb at a disbelieving Hilda, “And no one’s explaining anything.” Amber crept a little closer. “Would you like to pet the kitty?” She offered. The carnation’s eyes lit up. “Really?” “You can even pet the belly!” Amber insisted. “That would be great!” “Excellent, just reach down, yes that’s it, rub the belly,” Amber coaxed as Cagney reached down to pet her. Just as he was about to touch her belly, she latched on, nails out and sank her teeth into his hand. He swore and ripped Amber off of his arm. “Goddammit, Amber! That fucking hurt!” He turned toward Hilda and demanded, “Hilda, what the hell?! Did you know she was going to do that?!”

Sullivan looked unbelieving what Amber was doing, and Carlos laughed at the trick, for it reminded him of the many times it helped him get out from a sticky situation. 

Hilda smiled at him. “You DO remember me, you dumb dandelion!” She couldn’t help but hug him tightly.

The carnation felt like a ton of bricks hit him as the memory of who Hilda was came back heavy and strong. “Hilda?!” He wrapped his leaves around her tightly and returned the hug. “Aw man, I’m so happy to see you!”

The cat and the amphibian looked surprised as the Carnation seemed to recover his memory.

“Cagney we gotta get out of here!” The witch grabbed his hand pulling him to the door. “And take that bandanna off!” She managed to keep her voice steady, terrified her friend would forget her again.

The carnation couldn’t help but snuggle her hand, blowing off the tightness in his throat. “You can say that again. All I did was come here to ask Rumor for help but… Rumor!” He suddenly remembered where they were and he stopped snuggling her. “Hilda, Rumor’s nuts!” He insisted.

“And you just noticed now?” Hilda chuckled. “You can tell me all about it later! C'mon!” She pressed on.

Cagney stopped following Hilda. “I’m serious. She’s never been acted like this before.” He pulled away from her and grimaced. “Something’s really wrong and I can’t figure out why because I can’t think straight! And every time I try to think about it, it just hurts more, Hilda!” He grabbed his head with both hands. “Why does it hurt so much to try to say your name!? Or even think about you?!”

“Cagney!” Hilda drew close to him, not sure what to do. It was painful to see him like this. It reminded of her when she found out about the constellations living in her head.

Amber hesitantly eyed Cagney as he looked almost frantic. She psst the other cat, trying to get his attention.

Carlos ear twitched and looked at Amber curious.

Amber pointed to her neck and made a pulling motion toward Cagney, hoping the other cat would get the hint as the carnation proceeded to become more panicked by the second.

Carlos nodded at Amber and discreetly came closer to the carnation as he struggled with his thoughts. He got in position and waited for Amber’s signal.

“Cagney,” Hilda said softly, noticing the cats moving closer. “I know what it is to have a mess in your head. Just, uh, think about something that made you very happy. Like, eh, the first day of spring? Or uh…” She was getting really nervous as he started gasping. “I don’t know! Mineral water? Focus on that!”

“Mineral water?? Are you kidding me right now?” He gaped at her, “What kind of stupid idea is that?” His eyes widened as the bandanna tightened and he fell to his knees, choking.  One of his arms reached back toward the soil in the room. “Now, now, now! Before he touches the dirt!” Amber yelled pouncing on the carnation with Carlos, trying to rip off his bandanna. The carnation plunged his hands in the soil and immediately started changing form with a snarl. He flung the cats off and turned on Hilda with a glare. “You’re just using me, just like she said you would. Just like you always do!” He sneered.

Hilda stepped back frightened. Her heart broke to see the hatred in his best friend’s eyes… again! “Cagney, what are you saying?” She felt Tauros wanting to take control in her mind. 

He tried to continue speaking but any further speech Cagney had been capable of vanished as he continued to warp into his monstrous form. Carlos shook his head and saw the flower growing bigger. “I think it’s time to leave now!” He suggested, hopping to his feet. Sullivan immediately came to aid Amber. “You ok? Where does it hurt? ” He worriedly asked.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Amber groaned. She unsteadily got to her feet with Sullivan’s help and turned to see the carnation approaching a scared Hilda, the bandanna still snugly around his neck. She looked around for something but saw nothing she could chuck at him. “Kick his ass!” She finally shouted at the woman. The carnation turned away from Hilda at the sound of her voice, sharp teeth exposed.

“You ALWAYS have to ruin EVERYTHING!” The group turned to see Rumor screaming as she barged through the door, glaring daggers at Hilda. Beatrice and a bunch of other guards accompanied the queen and took positions surrounding the intruders. 

Sullivan stood between the nearest guards and Amber, extending his arms to protect more with his body. Carlos, used to these kinds of situations, remained calm and discreetly tried to approach Beatrice. “Rumor! What did you do to him!?” Hilda shouted pointing at the monstrous carnation. “I opened his eyes, Hilda! You can no longer control him, you manipulative witch! He’s FREE!” Rumor shouted, waving her scepter and throwing a strange purple sphere towards her. Hilda dove behind Rumor’s desk, barely managing to dodge it in time. The sphere exploded just inches where she was standing before, leaving a burnt mark on the floor. She popped her head out from under the desk. “You fucking crazy BEEch!” She shouted, surprised that she would blast her without a second thought. She knew they weren’t good friends, but they never fought this serious before. “Seriously!? Bee puns? Now?” Rumor answered angrily and, very bothered by it, threw another sphere, destroying her own desk. “Jesus Christ, Rumor! Did you brainwash yourself too?!” Another blast from the queen’s scepter forced her to jump near Cagney. “Snap out of it, Cagney! Do something” The meteorologist pleaded with the huge flower. “Oh! Good idea!” Rumor chuckled maliciously, flying in the air and waving her scepter, pointing to the ground. "Do something, Cagney. Get rid of the intruders!” A bright blast turned the floor into dirt. All the bees started to fly in place, avoiding contact with the ground.

 "Oh shit.“ 

That was all Amber managed to get out before large green tendrils shot out from the newly formed ground and seized Hilda, Sully, Amber and Carlos, hoisting them into the air. The intruders struggled to free themselves, trying to unwrap the vines around them with minimal success. Cagney chuckled darkly and looked toward Rumor, as if waiting for her next order.

Hilda had a déjà vu feeling. She couldn’t hear the constellation’s voices but she could definitely feel their panic. All except Tauros. He filled the woman’s body with enough anger and adrenaline to keep struggling. "So we’re doing this again, you overgrown weed!?” Hilda was so scared that she allowed Tauros to take over. “Well, this time I’m not holding back!” But when she was about to turn she realized nothing was happening. She looked down at herself. “What the-?!” “Hahaha!” Rumor laughed. “What’s the matter, witch? No sky to drain power from?” She delighted herself to see the woman powerless between her lover’s grasp. She flew closer to Cagney and sweetly stroked his petals. “We do make a great team! Right, Cagney?” She gently kissed him making sure Hilda was watching. 

The witch’s heart broke into pieces and her eyes started to get glassy. “You… fucking… is all this just to get at me somehow!? IT’S NOT MY FAULT HE DOESN’T LOVE YOU! You-you-” “Oh! But he DOES love me, Hilda. He ALWAYS did. But you kept luring him away from me! For your own benefit! Always taking advantage of his kind heart” She turned to the flower. “But now he sees the truth, what you really are. And what I really am…” She almost whisper tenderly to the carnation, stroking gently his petals.

Cagney leaned into Rumor’s touches, the bee knowing exactly where to touch on the monstrous flower’s petals to entice him further. At the sound of Hilda shouting, he turned toward the distraught woman and paused briefly, something flickering in the back of his mind at how upset she was. His vines loosened ever so slightly on the prisoners. 

“Alright, screw this,” Amber finally growled, freeing her front paws. She grabbed the vine wrapped her chest and bit down on it as hard as she could, drawing sap. Cagney roared and smashed the cat through the honeycomb wall leading to the next room. He lurched himself blindly toward the new opening of the wall. Rumor attempted to hold him still but this only led to him shaking himself wildly, knocking the gloating Queen out of the air and into her flying soldiers. The scepter flew out of the bee’s hands and clattered to the floor, shooting out a stray purple laser. It narrowly missed Hilda’s head, instead searing and blasting a large portion of the ceiling clean off. Large chunks of roof like honeycomb crashed down on everyone in the room, pinning some of the vines down and scattering the soldiers. The carnation could see nothing but red even with the sun now shining down on them. He whirled on everyone else left and opened his mouth, revealing very large sharp teeth. More appendages sprouted up and restrained both bee and mammal alike now.

“Amber!” Sullivan shouted, struggling to get out of the flower’s tendrils. He bit and scratched, but his tiny fangs and claws barely sunk into the monstrous carnation’s skin, and only made him tighten his grip, making it more difficult for the amphibian to breath. Carlos, feeling the loosened grip and taking advantage of the chaos, decided to follow Amber’s way and bit the vine as hard as he could before being thrown against the wall near the entrance door. Hilda’s eyes widened at the view of the sky and felt the constellations getting stronger. Her eyes and bracelets shone brightly and a thick mist started to cover her body and the rest of the room. “Let’s put an end to this!” The witch’s voice resonated like a thunder within the walls of the hive.

The carnation heard the loud boom of a voice and shot spiked vines toward the cloud of mist that billowed from where Hilda had been, leaving the rest of his captives trapped on the ground. The vines grabbed nothing but air as they attempted to seize where Hilda had been.

From the thick fog, a bull charged forward,  avoiding the thorny vines, and headbutted the carnation. He recoiled after the impact, cackling, happy to finally be able to strike a blow. Rumor shook her head and looked at the transformed Hilda with horror. “Cagney! Stop her! Get her away from the sky!” She yelled, searching for her scepter.

Cagney reeled back from the impact, shaking his head as he saw stars. He looked around, slightly confused, but upon Rumor’s order, hardened his expression and attacked Hilda. He coughed and hacked up dandelions toward the rampaging bull, trying to knock her out of the air, flaring his petals angrily when he continued to miss.

Taurus kept avoiding the tumultuous dandelions with quick turns and swirls. “Hahaha! Looks like the bigger you are, the dumber you get! You’ll never hit me with those! But I bet I can hit YOU!” Taurus did a swirl, creating a strong draft that flipped the dandelions back toward Cagney. A few of the dandelions hit some of the guard bees as well as Sullivan, who started to feel dizzy and confused. Carlos withdrew a knife from his coat and started hacking his way toward the scepter, dipping and ducking under dandelions. Rumor buzzed her wings rapidly, creating a draft to shoo dandelions away but still found herself struggling to completely get out of the tendril’s grasp.

A couple dandelions hit Cagney right in the kisser and he grew very disoriented, inadvertently releasing whatever captives he had retained. “Stop moving!” He yelled, his voice strained, even as he rocked back and forth, trying to keep his balance. He winced as something cut him again and took a wild swing in the direction of the attack.

Carlos got hit by the swing of the vine, knocking him against Rumor making both to fall down.“Ouch! Perdone, señorita!” Carlos apologized only to be pushed by the angry Queen. Taurus groaned.“Oh! NOW you remember me!” Noticing the flower’s confusion, Hilda saw her chance to get the bandana and flew quickly around Cagney’s head. To make sure the flower would stay disoriented, she flew in circles several times to confuse him even more. With each turn she drew closer and closer. “Don’t worry, Cags! I’ll get you out of this!”. “What are you doing!?” The queen shouted at her guards. “Get her! Don’t let her get close to Cagney!” Most of the bees were still disoriented.  They tried, without success, to chase the fast cloud turning in circles, confusing them even more.

“Beat this!” Cagney snapped, plunging his hands back into the soil. Large vines shot up from all around, effectively surrounding and closing around him until it was almost a cactus like cocoon. He continued to cackle from inside his makeshift fort.

“Oh! You bastard,” Taurus groaned but his mouth turned into a twisted grin. “Let’s put you to the test. How much can you take?” The mist grew thicker again around Hilda’s body and turned into a giggling Gemini. “Fair warning!” They spoke in unison towards everybody. “Get out while you still can!” And with a sinister laughter, Gemini created a golden sphere that started shooting projectiles in all directions, most of them hitting Cagney’s cocoon, leaving some significant burnt marks.

Sullivan was still disoriented, but at the warning he started calling out for Amber. 

Amber stirred awake in the next room at the sound of her name. She limped back over to the hole she was flung through and peeked inside. Her eyes widened at the chaos as projectiles, vines and bees flew in all directions. 

She spotted a disoriented Sullivan and grabbed him by his shirt before dragging him back through the hole. She waved her paw in front of his face. “Hey? You okay? What’s wrong?” She worriedly asked, not liking how confused he look. She continued to snap fingers at Sullivan, growing increasingly worried when he didn’t respond. “Hey! You in there or not?!”

Sullivan started to recover. “A-Amber? You ok!?” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You gotta get out of here!” He looked around trying to find a way out.

Amber nodded along with Sullivan. She looked around the room they had been launched into and scowled when she realized there were no other exits. That crazy bee really did have everything sealed off. 

“Ay! Otra vez no!” Carlos lamented, helping a confused Beatrice to dodge some projectiles. Rumor was livid, having been the painful recipient of quite a few golden shots. She clenched her fist, seeing red. “Kill her! KILL HER!” She ordered finally reaching for her scepter. “YOU WON’T TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME AGAIN!" 

The least disoriented bees started to wonder about their queen’s sanity. The way she was yelling orders, not caring for their safety was unlike the monarch. Even Beatrice, one of her most loyal bees was starting to have her doubts about whether or not she should follow the orders.

When the last of Hilda’s projectiles finished firing, the cactus cocoon crumbled, revealing a large hole. Before Gemini could react, Cagney emerged from the dirt behind them and seized the women with his hands. He was fairly beaten up, the fiery ball of death having done its job well and damaging everything - including all the plant material that was part of him. He stared at Gemini, a confused but still upset expression on his face. "Turn back into Hilda,” he finally panted.

Gemini struggled in the flower’s grip and the mist surrounded them. Cagney felt how the delicate figures merged into one and suddenly he had to tighten his grip to the feeling of something trying to burst out of his hands. The mist cleared and in front of the flower was Sagittarius trying to push the carnation’s hands apart with his powerful hooves. “Transform back to Hilda? So you can squish us again!?” The constellation glared at the flower, showing more fear than confidence. Sagittarius was still Hilda, and he didn’t want to hurt their dearest friend. Gemini had already done enough damage. “M-my queen… it’s dangerous here! We have to take you to safety!” Beatrice managed to say to Rumor, as Carlos held her up by her arm. Rumor didn’t listen to her guard, instead watching Cagney’s movements intently, waiting for the moment he would crush the witch and putting an end to all this. Beatrice and some other bees trembled noticing the craziness on their beloved queen’s eyes. Sagittarius was incredibly strong but Cagney was determined not to release his grip. “I don’t want to let go!” He growled, and he wasn’t talking about the constellation. Memories were starting to come back and it was a struggle to hold on to them. He wasn’t sure if he was going to pass out first. He looked desperately at Sagittarius. “Hilda! Please! I don’t want to let go of you again!” Sagittarius saw the despair in Cagney’s eyes and felt his heart quiver. The mist started to cover the constellation, revealing a very worried Hilda trapped in his monstrous hands. “Cagney?” She almost whispered, tired of the struggling and fighting. She looked deep into his eyes, hoping to find her best friend again. Her eyes were glassy and it was getting really hard to hold her tears.

Cagney looked at Hilda, immediate relief seizing him at seeing her alive and…uh, not exactly well, but in good enough condition. He saw how worried she was and he could only imagine what she had to get through to even get here. He clasped her to his chest and enveloped her in the biggest hug he could. “I am so happy to see you,” he exclaimed, trying not to crush her in his excitement. He nestled his petals against her even as the bandanna began to tighten. “Hilda, please don’t let me forget you,” he choked.

Hilda returned the hug as hard as she could, a couple of tears escaping through her cheeks, when she noticed the bandanna. She immediately grabbed it and looked for the knot. Rumor couldn’t believe her eyes. “What are you doing!? CRUSH HER!” “NO! Cagney, please!” The witch tried to whisper calmly but it was hard to talk with a knot in her own throat.

“CRUSH HER!” The queen repeated. “Cagney! Hold it! I almost… got… it… ” Hilda said going as fast as she could.

Cagney felt himself dipping back under Rumor’s influence and he panicked at the loss of control. Hilda was starting to fade into a target again and it was only another second or so before he made do on the order to crush her. He needed to get hurt again. He spotted one of his sharp spiky plants still erect, with a particularly long thorn protruding from the side. It was within reach. He winced preemptively as he seized it, continuing to hold Hilda to him with his other hand. “This is going to hurt,” he chuckled before he thrust the thorn sharply inwards, stabbing himself in the stem. His grip weakened on Hilda and he continued to chuckle, shooting Rumor a dirty look even as he felt himself bleed sap.

Hilda, noticing the loosen grip, saw her friend stabbing himself. “Shit, Cagney!” She finally untied the bandanna and she held it tightly in her hand. “I GOT IT!” She shouted, happily waving the fabric, victorious. “Cagney, I got it!” She hugged him again. “No…” Rumor whispered. Her eyes narrowed and her fingers tightened on the scepter within her grasp. “WHY DO YOU ALWAYS RUIN EVERYTHING!” She screeched, launching herself into the air. 

Rumor flew in dangerous zig zags before aiming the scepter at the embracing couple. A dark smile formed on her lips as she instead flipped the scepter downwards and blasted the ground, obliterating the entire floor of her office. With the exception of Carlos who held onto a levitating Beatrice for dear life, everything that had been on the office floor, furniture and folks alike, plummeted downwards into the depths of the hive.

The moment Hilda had pulled that bandanna off his neck, there was a second of clarity and nothing else. The next second, Cagney was hit with an intense pain from his self inflicted stab wound and a deluge of memories about Hilda, both good and bad. It was so staggering, he swore he was falling backwards into darkness just from the sensation of it all.

Well, until he realized they really WERE falling. Not that he could do much about it. Without the dirt around his roots, he had no powers to stop them from the fall. Seeing Hilda’s face near his and realizing that the memory of her wasn’t going away did make him smile. “Thank you, ya dumb blimp,” he chuckled, returning the hug once more. 

The action made him wince. The lack of dirt also meant he lacked any ability to heal. “Man, I really wish I hadn’t stabbed myself so hard,” he finally managed still laughing, even as he felt like passing out.

Hilda was still hugging the carnation. She was so happy to hear his insult she didn’t realize they were falling until they hit the bottom floor, Cagney’s body breaking their fall. The plant’s grip slackened on her with the impact and she was aware he wasn’t moving much. “Cagney! Shit! You ok!?” She reached down to check for wounds only to be stopped something violently yanked her off of him.

Hilda struggled to pull herself free and looked up to see Rumor had been the one to grab her, making sure to bruise her skin with tightness that the bee held her. Before the sky witch had a chance to fight back. Rumor flew up as fast as she could and threw Hilda against the wall with all her strength. Cagney definitely did not feel so good either. One minute, Hilda was holding onto him and the next he was hitting the ground and she was getting dragged off. “Ugh, wait come back…” He groaned quietly.

____

Amber walked back over to the hole in the wall and blinked in surprise. The floor was completely gone!! And everyone was in the process of tumbling down the new large hole. Which was probably the only way out. She grimaced and turned toward the salamander. 

“Hey, how good of a climber are you?”

Sullivan nodded and got to the door to climb down. His amphibious body was perfect for latching onto the sticky huge wall. He secured his grip before looking up at Amber. “You need help going down? You can hold onto my back.”

Amber nodded. “Yes please.” She carefully climbed onto Sullivan’s back and held on tightly as the salamander quickly scaled the wall. She glanced below to see the Queen bee tossing Hilda like a rag doll and winced. 

____

For a few seconds, Hilda saw more stars than what she was used to. When she recovered, she was on the floor next to a few drops of blood. She reached for her head with a shaky hand and realized that it was her blood when the crimson liquid decorated her fingers. 

Her eyes glinted with a combination of anger and pain. “Fuck is WRONG WITH YOU, RUMOR!?” She managed to stand up, her bracelets and eyes shining very brightly as Rumor descended upon her in her bomber jet form. “Since when do you want to kill me?!” She quickly turned into a blimp and rocketed up in the air just as Rumor launched towards her, missing her and hitting the wall with her face. “This!” Rumor spat, recovering from the hit. “This time, I WON’T LET YOU WIN!” She charged again against the confused blimp. The bees tried to recall their queen back to her senses, but the royal bee wouldn’t listen. Carlos had been watching the fight from the side but upon seeing Cagney on the ground barely moving, signaled Beatrice to take him down to the ground. “Petals! Petals, groan twice if you’re still conscious” He asked, surprisingly worried. He barely knew the guy, but seeing how he hugged the crazy moon lady, it melted his heart. Plus, he was losing a lot of sap at an alarming rate and that couldn’t be good for a plant. Sullivan and Amber arrived shortly afterwards to the ground floor. 

Amber spotted Cagney and bit her lip. “…uh, Sully. The flower doesn’t look so good.”

The amphibian carefully let Amber get down from his back and saw the flower’s bleeding wound. “Oh boy…”

Amber scampered over to the carnation. “Hey! Hey! Wake up!” She yelled but the carnation only groaned again and waved weakly at her. 

“Does anyone know any first aid?”

“I do!” Sullivan and Carlos answered at the same time as Beatrice left Carlos on the ground and looked at her queen, terribly worried. “We have to remove the thorn,” suggested Sullivan. “Not before making sure we have something to stop the bleeding,” Carlos added, looking closely at the stab wound.

Amber pulled off the yellow bandanna off her neck. “What about this? Can we use this?” She asked hopefully.

“That might work!” Carlos said to Amber with a smile.

“I’ll call for reinforcements!” Beatrice flew quickly out of the room and made a signal to the other confused bees to tend to the other wounded bees.

____

Hilda had never seen such a furious Rumor in her life. She kept avoiding the plane’s charges, hoping that Rumor would come to her senses once she figured out she was destroying her own hive, only to realise the queen didn’t care what she charged to. Everyone was in danger. Hilda looked to the hole in the roof and flew quickly in front of it. Perhaps, if she could lure Rumor out in the open, she would have a chance to knock her outside without hurting anyone. “Rumor! C'mon! I know we had our differences but brainwashing!? Aren’t you taking it a bit too far?” “Ha! You’re the one to talk!” Rumor yelled. “You’ve been controlling him ever since you met him!” “Stop saying that!” Hilda was getting tired of hearing that. Or maybe it was exhaustion from transforming so much. “Cags and I have been friends since before we met you! It’s not my fault you don’t have friends, only these-these brainwashed  zomBEES!” She chuckled. “DAMN YOU, HILDA!” Rumor shouted, charging towards her again, but this time, with saws on her wings.

Hilda waited until the last second to dive out of Rumor’s way, an error she paid dearly for by getting slashed on her leg, making it really painful to pedal. Rumor flew through the hole, making it bigger with her deadly wings. So manic was she that she acted in a bloodlust, hardly aware of the pieces of ceiling that tumbled down…nor the falling scepter that had slipped from her grasp during her transformation.

____

“Ok, then, listen up,” Sullivan signed Carlos and Amber to get closer as Beatrice left. “Carlos and I will take the thorn out. As soon as it’s out, Amber will tie the bandanna and put pressure on it."  

"C'mon Petals! Don’t fall asleep now!” Carlos said, getting ready to pull the thorn. “His name is Cagney,” Sullivan corrected him. “Petals is easier to remember”. Sullivan rolled his eyes. “Ready, Amber?”

Amber nodded. “Ready!” On that, Sully and Carlos pulled the thorn with a yell. She immediately dove on the wound, bandanna on hand and applied as much pressure as she could. She smiled but then looked at Sully. “Uh….now what?”

Cagney gasped in pain at the thorn’s removal. “Shit,” he muttered, “now I know how Hilda felt.” He listlessly looked around for the woman only not to find her. The sounds of explosions and destruction clued him into the fact that she was probably up in the air. He tried to focus on her but his vision was hazy. She looked like she was moving slower somehow. Which didn’t seem right. The crash of honeycombs smashing near him didn’t really get his attention until the clank of something metallic followed it. He looked over to see Rumor’s scepter sticking out of a honeycomb and his mind started racing. He remembered all this craziness started as soon as Rumor pulled out that dang scepter. Which didn’t make sense. She always had a scepter. But this one looked different from what he recalled. Almost dull and warped. Whatever the change, he had to get it. He reached pathetically for it, just out of his fingers’ reach.

“Now we should find a way to disinfect and stitch the site,” Sullivan explained, looking for something they could use, unaware of Cagney’s attempts.

“Say no more!” Carlos opened his jacket and pulled out a flask, a needle and a thread. Sullivan looked at him strangely. “You just walk around with that all day?” “Of course!” The Hispanic cat replied, gesturing for Amber to remove the bandanna and spilling the alcohol over the wound. 

The splash of alcohol on Cagney’s wound burned like hell, forcing him to jerk upwards with a girly scream before Amber could slam him back down with a surprising amount of strength from such a small feline. “Ow! What the hell?!”

Carlos continued. “Mi abuelita used to tell me: 'Carlitos, it’s a very big world out there, and you’re a very clumsy boy! Always take a first aid kit with you’ ” He spilled some on the needle and thread. “Ok Petals! Not gonna lie to you, this is going to hurt… I think. I’ve never had to stitch a tree before…" 

____

Hilda wasn’t sure how much blood she was losing from her leg wound but it had to be a lot. She knew she couldn’t keep up pedaling for long and she rested on the roof of the hive, turning back to herself. She struggled to stand, but she managed to stay still as Rumor did a U turn in the air and back headed towards her again. 

"CAGNEY IS MINE!!!” Rumor shouted, completely mad, her eyes full of hate, and her grin twisted with anger. Hilda was very angry herself, her bracelets and eyes glowing like a fire. “You’re gonna have to kill me to get to him!” Her voice was distorted with the voices of the twelve constellations. She lifted her arms and thick clouds covered her entirely in a magnificent spiral.

Rumor couldn’t see anymore and, although she was very angry, knew better than to fly through the sky witch’s cloud. She halted just outside of it as clicking and tinkling sounds emerged from within. The mist parted as Hilda emerged in crimson moon form, a malicious grin upon her lunar face. “Let’s put an end to this!” Rumor didn’t waste a second and fired missiles as Hilda did the same. The aftershocks of the projectiles exploding in the air produced some twisted fireworks visible from the other isles.

“Cagney would be so much happier if he never met you!” Rumor shouted as she sliced the moon’s cheek. “You keep using him to boost your weak, pathetic ego!” She jabbed again, inflicting another wound.  “What is wrong with you, Rumor?! You’ve never been this crazy for him! Or anybody!” Hilda argued, hoping an appeal to reason would slow her down. “I found a good friend, Hilda. She warned me about you. She showed me what you really are!” The plane charged again but this time Hilda was ready for her, deflecting the attack. The counterattack infuriated Rumor and she instinctively reached for her scepter only to realize she didn’t have it.  “W-what? W-where is it!?” She started to panic, a moment that Hilda took advantage of to launch one last attack: throwing missiles, stars, and even herself towards the confused plane.

____

“Can’t you let me just die or something?!” Cagney whined as Carlos haphazardly stabbed him against with the alcoholic needle.  “No! You need to stay alive, you petal for brains!” “The only one who’s allowed to call me that is…Hilda!” The carnation looked up to see Hilda in her moon phase. That was her last resort attack which meant she must be really faltering now. He looked around for and spotted the scepter again. It must be connected to all this. He had to get it. He tried to reach for it only to recoil in pain with another jab of the needle. 

“You call that stitching?” Sullivan shook his head seeing the poorly attended wound. “As long as it holds, mi amigo”. “It’s not going to hold! Argh! Gimme that!” The salamander took the needle from Carlos and begun stitching gently, doing a better job than the Hispanic cat. “Help Amber hold Cagney down,” Sullivan ordered. Carlos obeyed and held the flower’s stem down to the ground.

Cagney struggled against their help. “No, I gotta do somethin! Hilda ain’t gonna last much longer!” The flower reached for the fallen scepter one last time, this time grasping the base of it and dragging it to himself. He panted and collapsed again, holding the dumb metal rod to his chest.

“Hey!” Carlos exclaimed, noticing the scepter. “How did you get that?”

The whole world spun for the carnation but he finally managed to stand up, shoving off Carlos and Amber’s attempts to lay him back down. He waved the scepter. “Hey, Rumor!” He yelled, attempting to get the attention of the Queen Bee.

Hilda and Rumor looked fairly war torn, having taken some serious damage from their special attacks. Despite their exhaustion, they still glared at each other, neither women determined to give up the fight. They were about to charge into each other again when Cagney’s voice from below drew their attention and they looked down. “Cagney?” Rumor called back sweetly, glad to hear her beloved call out her name and not that of the witch’s.

Cagney smiled weakly. “I’ve been thinking about us and, ya know what?” He held out the scepter toward her. “I think we should take a break!” And with that, he slammed the scepter into the ground, shattering it into hundreds of pieces.

“NO!” Rumor screamed, transforming back into her royal self. She rapidly landed and attempted to scoop up the pieces of what remained of her scepter.  “What have you done!? What have… you…you…?"  

Her voice died in her throat. Her mind flooded with blocked and distorted memories that the scepter had prevented from her remembering. The queen felt like everything was swirling around her as flashes of memories kept popping in her mind confusing her. Hilda turned back into herself and cast a cloud with what little energy she had left. She slowly levitated back into the hive, putting pressure on her leg wound before she landed close to carnation. Sullivan, Carlos and Amber didn’t dare move a muscle, expecting the Queen bee to burst angrily any minute.

Finally, Rumor took a shaky breath and looked up to see the two island bosses. "Hilda? C-cagney…?” She asked softly, uncertain if she was hallucinating, looking more like herself again. 

“Hey, Rumor,” Cagney painfully managed, “Glad to see you being you.” He made a motion to step forward only to wince and clutch the side of his stem. Hilda approached him and he pulled away his leafy hand to reveal it was now coated in thick sap. Her eyes darted down to see the wound now free flowing, the sutures having popped during his exertion.

He looked down at himself before back up at Hilda with a strained pale smile “…I’m just gonna stop standing now, ok, Hilds?” And with that, his legs crumpled from underneath him, passing out without another word.

———————————————————————————

 CHAPTER 28 (nsfw) ; CHAPTER 29 (You’re here) ; Next (not ready yet)

[ai-katsuu]

Wonderland Ball (3/4)

Chapters: 1  2  3  4

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At the opposite end of the room, Queen Alice, finally done with greeting her audience members, sighed back on her throne in content. “This is the best outcome of any party Fairy Tale Island has had. I mean you’re amazing, Hatter!” she grinned at her dearest friend. 

“But of course, Alice dear.” he tipped his hat, “Throwing parties are my specialty after all.” 

“I was the one who brought the guests over,” the Cheshire Cat intervened. “Wasn’t easy, you know?” he smiled at the Hatter who only frowned back.

“Oh, yes. Tell me, how did you manage to get the Fearless Seven to come?” Alice excitedly asked him. 

“He transported them here without warning,” a short witch with a grey bun walked into the scene. “I saw the whole thing myself from my room.” she calmly mentioned. 

Alice gasped at the Cheshire Cat, who now had his tail in between his legs, “Is Zeniba telling the truth?” 

“Well, in a sense yes.” he mumbled. 

“He was also rude to Prince Jack’s wife.”

“Yea, called her a servant.”

“You know I don’t fancy you two being here.” the Cheshire Cat frowned at the twins who had just entered. 

“Cheshire, how could you?!” Alice scolded then turned to her friend in the white suit.  “Rabbit, could you call her for me please? I want to apologize on his behalf.” 

“Wife isn’t here, miss. He failed to include her in his transportation spell, just like how the F7 fails to be on time.” he grumbled. 

“You left her behind?” she stared at him. 

“I wouldn’t say left, more like, dis-included?” he looked sideways. “Alice, with all due respect she wasn’t even a princess. He married a commoner.” 

“Your point?” Alice challenged, “Royalty or not that is his family, now both of them will be apart from each other on Christmas Eve. I want you to write an apology letter to this woman and apologize to Prince Jack yourself. That’s an order.”

“Oooh, someones in trouble.” the Mad Hatter grinned. The Cheshire Cat glared at him before bowing at Alice,

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” 

“Your Majesty, Prince Howl is here,” Zeniba smiled, a young blonde man charmingly smiled at her. 

“I’ll take care of this. Hatter, make sure he follows through.” Alice told him before standing up and greeting the wizard. 

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Once midnight had struck, the ball had come to an end, and the others went back to their suite. Exhausted from all the mingling and formalities, the group immediately fell apart when they got to their beds. 

“I think I might have bruised my arm when I threw Peter over the table.” Arthur examined his bicep. 

“Shut it, at least you weren’t chased around by two she-demons who want to put a dress on you.” Hans grumbled. 

“You think Papa sent Jiminy on purpose?” Noki asked.

“Please, I don’t want to think about it.” Kio responded. 

They all awoke the next morning and spent the day in the Wonderland Palace. They had high tea in their suite, played several games, and even got a chance to meet with Queen Alice herself. They were wrapping up the conversation when Alice stood up, 

“Prince Jack, may I speak to you?” 

“Of course, Your Majesty.” 

She pulled him off to the corner of the room and it took Jack by a great surprise when she bowed; not as a greeting but as an apology. “Your Majesty? Please raise your head!” he told her.

“Prince Jack, you have my deepest apologies for how my right hand man treated your wife. I’m sincerely sorry she could not be here. His actions do not reflect Wonderland’s beliefs and morals.” 

“Your Majesty, I am not upset with you. You weren’t the one who said those things after all. Though I would be lying if I said I was not disappointed with how he treated her.” he sadly told her. 

“Apologies are in order from him. Please, allow me to let you and your friends leave early.” she said. And that’s what happened. The Cheshire Cat appeared right beside her and waved his hand, the purple mist covering them as they were transported back to the gates to the White Palace. 

“I will never get used to that.” Briar said, holding her head. 

“Well at least we’re back. That was exhausting, not gonna lie.” Pino said, twisting his back. 

“Do you hear music?” Gwen asked them. The others nodded and followed the sound that echoed through the halls. It led to the doors of the ballroom they saw bright lights that's shone through its cracks. Briar opened them to see a sight that none of them would have expected.

Townspeople, man and woman, kids of different ages, running around, singing, dancing to their heart's content. Elders gave gifts to their grandchildren, grandchildren played around with ribbons that were attached to a large pole, adults ate and drank while watching the band perform. 

Somehow, snow was falling from the ceiling and people of all ages were making Snowmen, sledding, having snowball fights, or creating snow angels. It was full of laughter and fun, a different energy radiating from the Wonderland Ball. 

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

With the kids jingle belling and everyone telling you, be of good cheer!

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

“What is this…?” Snow felt a small smile coming to her lips from the excitement and liveness everyone was exerting. 

“Are these all the people from Golden Goose?” Merlin questioned. 

“Why are they all here?” Hans looked around. 

“Oh, Your Highness'!” Isabella, in a lovely green dress, curtsied to the thirteen princes and princess’ “Welcome back!” she beamed. 

“Isabella, what is all this?” Jack asked her.

“Golden Goose's annual Christmas Eve Party, Miss Audrey had the suggestion of moving it to the palace ballroom so that it would be much bigger! She planned all the songs, the presents, and hosted the whole event.” 

“She did all this?” he looked around at the green and red festive lights. 

“You bet your high privileged ass she did.” Frost floated down to the group. “With my help and Isabella’s, this was all possible through her hard work.” he threw a snowball directly at him. A few sparkles appeared on his eyes before Jack started laughing, but quickly regained his composure. “Oof, tough one.” Frost laughed. 

“Where is Audrey?” Arthur asked. 

Frost smiled, leaning on his staff and gestured to the crowd behind him. 

There'll be parties for hosting, marshmallows for toasting

And caroling out in the snow

They'll be scary ghost stories

And tales of the glories of Christmas's long, long ago!

Amongst the crowd Audrey was singing along with the band, playing with the children and dancing with adults. Her hair was up in a bun, loose hair stands out, and wore a red dress that extended just below her knees. Her see-through heels made it a bit difficult for her to walk, but Isabella made them just for her.  Not a trace of sadness or jealousy was on her face as she sang an unfamiliar song to them. 

“It’s a traditional song from the outside world.” Frost told the group, “She’s been playing a lot of Christmas carols from out there. Honestly much better than the ones they have here.” 

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

There'll be much mistletoeing and hearts will be glowing

When loved ones are near!

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

The crowd applauded as the song ended, as did the group. Frost threw his staff up lightly after clapping, “Well your highness’ I have to help a big red man deliver his presents for Christmas and I’m already on the Naughty list. Probably,” he went to the nearest window and opened it, “later nerds.” the wind started blowing in his direction. 

“Snow Queen said hi by the way.” Jack called out.

“Wait, what?” Frost turned back, “No wait! Just when the conversation was getting interesting!” but was then blown away by the winds. 

The group had decided not to interrupt the party and went back to their rooms, hoping to greet Audrey after. After the party had ended, Audrey made her way to the parlor exhausted and removed her gloves. 

“I didn’t know you could sing. You always refused to.” 

Audrey turned around to see Jack smiling with his arms crossed. “Jack! You’re back!” 

Jack beamed as he welcomed her with open arms as she ran towards him. “I missed you so much, I’m so sorry you got left behind..” he buried his head on her shoulder, trying to make sure he didn’t ruin her hair. 

Audrey shook her hair, “It’s fine. I got to plan this party and meet everyone from Golden Goose. Oh Jack, they’re all so lovely and their traditions every Christmas are amazing!” 

Jack nodded, “I’m glad you enjoyed it, but it’s not okay. You should not have been left behind, that was rude of him to leave you out.” 

Audrey shrugged, “I guess, but at least something good came out of it.”

“Yes, you won’t have to spend Christmas with them next year, don’t worry.”

“What do you mean?” Audrey laughed.

“Spending the evening with commoners is hardly the right way to celebrate Christmas, there should be balls, and elegance.” he told her.

“Well, sure but there’s nothing wrong with their traditions.” Audrey’s smile thinned down. 

“It’s hardly fitting for someone married to nobility. You should be spending it with all of us at these balls.” he raised a brow.

“I’d love to spend it with all of you, but the traditions you just saw are not ‘hardly fitting’, they’re wonderful.” she frowned. 

Jack rolled his eyes, “Audrey please, why spend your holidays in the cold filthy streets when you can spend it warm and cozy in a palace.”

“There is nothing wrong with where they live.” she said now angry, “Their happiest memories are on those streets. And mine are too, wandering around several towns, I’ve seen the joy they all have.” 

“That’s impossible, no one can be truly happy there.” he firmly told her, “I don’t want you to live or be treated like a commoner, you deserve much more than that. For goodness sake, you’re married to a prince!” 

“What’s wrong with being a commoner? They’re the same as you, they just have a different lifestyle!”

 “Commoners don’t have all these riches you see around you. They’re not as well off as we are. We can easily afford anything we want. If we have the money then we can spend it, what’s wrong with that?!”

“Nothing! Nothing is wrong with the lifestyle of a noble but neither is the lifestyle of a commoner! They’re two different things but that doesn’t mean that either status is worth greater or less of value, they all deserve equal treatment!” Audrey stared him down, “Maybe if you actually experienced the life of one you see that we aren’t as pitiful or filthy as you think we are.”

That crossed the line for Jack as he looked at her one more time and stormed out of the parlor. The twelve people who had their ears pressed to the door heard footsteps coming and they quickly hid behind the large curtains. Jack pushed the door open with violence as he marched through the halls. Audrey on the other hand, not realizing the error both of them had made, made her way outside of the parlor and walked the opposite way.

Once the two were out of sight from each other, the twelve princes and princesses came out of the curtains. 

“That can’t be good…” Gwen frowned.