#only the most observant of incredible eyes would ever be able to spot the tail used to prop it up

[tyrantchimeraart]

@elsa-fogen for the Charlie's Toys AU.

[dom--minnie]

If Anyone is Magic, he has to Be

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

Genre: urban fantasy, mermaid au, vignettes, pure fluff,

Summary:

Word count: 5566

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, singular mention of sexual activities, mention of mer hunting,

Another collab fic baybee! This is my (incredibly late per the usual) contribution to the Wilting Wisteria collab hosted by @/decembermoonskz. Collab masterlist is here, so check it all out!

Mermaids are real, that’s the start and end of it. Mermen are as well, though mermaids is generally the ‘catch-all’ term used to refer to them. No one knows why, not even the most elderly mers that Felix knows, that is just how it has always been. 

Felix would like to ask a human if they know why that is, but there has been so much in his life that warned him to stay away from humans. Those elder mers for one, as well as his own past experience. 

The elders told him about past days of humans who tried to hunt mers. For what reason is unknown, since anyone who became close to a human left their pod, or was asked to leave for safety. It took more than a few children, or parents, or cousins disappearing to get to that. It was somewhat frighteningly recent, as one of the elders had their mother taken. Only 4 generations back from where Felix is now, so Felix doubts the fear will be swimming away soon. 

His own experience nearly scared him out of his tail.

Suddenly, some loud, fast piece of metal came into view, and he paused for a moment before turning and diving straight down. The corals was a good spot to hide for Felix while the thing blasted past, disturbing the water as it went. 

Later, he went to ask what it was and was immediately scolded for being so close to the surface, so close to where humans might have seen them. A few days later, Felix would see why they were supposed to be so afraid. Another one of the large pieces of metal went by but he followed far behind it this time. 

They stopped a few minutes later and dropped a giant net from their boat. Nets were uncommon, but Felix remembered his aunt had one and his younger cousin had played with it, only to almost get caught in the holes. Felix watched as it scooped up a large group of fish with no remorse, and thought about his cousin getting caught in that and carried away. Even the brief though of watching his cousin get caught in it gave Felix a chill, one that lingered. Some of the small fish made it to the outside and swam away, but Felix knew that mers were too big to be able to do that.

He didn’t go that close to a boat ever again. Especially after his mother explained the main goal of humans in boats, hunting. 

Despite those moments, and many more after that, Felix still holds a strong curiosity for humans. He wants to know how they live on land, how they walk, and how they breathe out of water. Still, he usually stays quite far out from the beach since he doesn’t want to be caught off guard if someone suddenly decided to come down. 

He is quite glad for that choice, because he sees someone come around the bend and stop before heading down the hill to the beach. Being so far away, he can’t see much more than a vague outline, but humans intrigue him so much no matter what. He observes them walk across the beach, stopping sometimes but moving along the entire length of it. 

It was not just a one day occurrence, either. It takes a few days and Felix mourns the loss of a perfect observation opportunity, but they come back. The same routine as last time, stop and start and stop and start. 

Not to get his hopes up, but Felix starts to suspect this will become a regular situation. It ends up being so; just two days later, the human is back. Felix flips his tail in excitement, scaring the fish around him.

He quickly apologizes to them, but brings his eyes back up, not wanting to miss a thing. It’s somewhat cold now, but getting warmer. The weather provides the perfect chance and, sure enough, the human comes back more and more often. After some time, Felix decides to get a little closer. It doesn’t help him see any better, since he went barely a tail length. Every couple of sun rounds, he moves a tail length closer, until he gets a clear picture. Felix’s clear picture of the human would mean that they can get a clear picture of him, so he dives under. .

It makes the human a little harder to see, but he doesn’t mind. They never get that close to the water, so they will never see him. Sometimes he can hear them sing, though it’s not very clear under the water. Every time they come down, he sees them look at all the shells that have moved up onto the beach. They don’t take one every time, but he gets a small glimpse at the shells they do take, and silently approves. 

It is well into the warm months when Felix considers making himself known to the human, even in a small way. He’s only considering it though, because he hasn’t seen this human bring someone else to the beach. 

Lots of things will change, but that never does.

You come by yourself to the beach often. It’s small and hardly anyone ever goes to it, so you have it to yourself to pick across. There isn’t always a new shell to find, but the days you can find multiple are enough to make you come back. Not only that, but the consistent sound and look of the waves across the water are soothing. No matter what happened before you got there, the waves are unchanging and almost rhythmic in nature. 

You finish your search for shells and head off the small dock. It’s rather old but not falling apart enough that you’re concerned about its stability. When you look straight out, you can’t see any land, only the blue water as far as you can see. 

A splash to your left catches your attention and you glance down, only to scramble backwards. Someone appeared next to you, nearly silently. The person draws back a bit at your reaction and you hastily sit back up to wave.

“Hey, sorry, you scared me. I didn’t hear you at all.”

“Oh, I, ahhhhhhhh…” They stutter, running one hand through their hair before speaking again “Hello, I hope you don’t mind me approaching! I have been watching you for a long time, and I think you’re safe.”

That throws you off majorly, watching you? Suddenly you’re not sure that you should be here anymore. But you haven’t seen many people come to this beach, so either you’re oblivious or they’re good. There is also a fairly strong accent that you can’t place at all. 

“Um… what do you mean watching me? You think I’m… safe?”

The person shakes their head, and smiles brightly at you. You note distantly that is a very pretty smile, but you can think about that more later. Now that you’re observing, you can see that this person is hesitant as well, concerned even, with their tapping fingers and eyes constantly flicking on and off of you. 

“You have to promise not to tell anyone this, okay? I’m not even supposed to be talking to you.”

This is really getting concerning, but now you really need to know what’s going on here, so you hesitantly agree. In the worst case scenario, you will run and alert someone that you have a weird stalker. 

“Okay, I’m a merman. And I think you’re safe because you never come here with anyone else, so I think it’ll be okay to tell you. I mean, in all this time it also just seems… right.”

You stare blankly back, surely this is a joke. Someone is messing with you, that has to be it. 

“I’m not falling for your tricks. Go home, we both have better things to do than this.”

The person just stares back at you, face falling more with every second that goes by. 

“No, really! Look, look, look, I’ll show you my tail.”

Suddenly, they heave up with surprising strength for a small-looking body and, sure enough, the edge of a brightly coloured tail comes up to your view. Still, tails can be faked better and better these days, you’ve seen pictures of them. Easier than believing in some sort of magic, which is likely what this would force you to confront. Honesty, it is beautiful as it shines brightly in the sun and water drips off of each scale. You realize suddenly that you should know better than this and you stop your reaching hand. 

“Can I touch it?” 

The mer in front of you nods, seemingly happy to let you do whatever you need to do prove this to yourself.

It’s not any sort of fabric and there is no clear division between skin and scale, only the scales slowly fading away. The top edge of the scale is sharp and the front is hard when you poke at them. Either someone went through a lot of work to fake this then tried to trick some random person, or this is real. 

When you look back, there is no one there. There is no camera crew waiting to pop out and say that they got you. It’s just you and this mer, so you’re inclined to believe it for now, at least.

“Okay, I believe you, for now.” The mer drops back into the water, splashing you a little, and cheers. “But that doesn’t tell me why you’re talking to me.”

They nod, “very simple, really. I want to know more about humans. The only experiences I’ve had before have been your loud boats and nets, but I’ve always wanted to know more than that.”

Watching Finding Nemo as a kid showed you how terrifying nets must be to fish, so you’re sure that part can only be worse for anyone human-sized. 

“Sure. Let’s start with the basics. Name, pronouns, age.”

“I only know about one of those things! My name is Felix.” 

“Okay, nice to meet you, Felix. Pronouns are… what someone uses to refer to you instead of your name. He, she, they, and lots of other ones.” 

“Oh, yes, yes. Humans have words for so many things, we don’t need a word for that. He, for me. Now you tell me yours!”

It’s incredibly endearing how excited Felix looks to know even the most basic information about you. To be fair, you’re sure you’d be more excited over meeting a literal merman if you weren’t still in shock about it. 

Part of it is the literal reality of seeing a shiny, scaly tail and some of it is puzzling over how mers can exist. Do other mythical creatures exist? You don’t believe in magic, but honestly how else does one explain the creation of half human half fish creatures? Nothing makes sense, but you suppose some of that can be left for later, when you have time to have a whole crisis about this later tonight. 

“What are those pieces on your body? They’re so bright, it almost hurts.”

“They’re called clothes. This is a shirt, my sweater is over there, these are pants, and I guess my sandals are clothes? The things covering my feet.”

“And… you keep these on all the time? Well, you can’t, because you have different ones on all the time.”

“I keep them on most of the day, yes. It’s considered very indecent and intimate to go around without them on. I take them off to change into different clothes, or when I shower. I have to change and wash them, otherwise they start to smell bad.”

“I- huh?” Felix’s face slowly morphs into deeper confusion before he shakes his head rapidly. “Humans consider it… intimate to be without clothes around others?”

“Yes, one reason people take clothes off is for… sexual activities. So it’s considered very vulnerable to not have clothes on.”

“Oh… were you embarrassed the first day we met then?” He looks so innocent that you just want to say whatever he wants to hear, but you have a feeling he’d still want you to be honest.

“I mean, yes, a bit. It doesn’t help that you’re, ah, very attractive.” You cough out the last part, feeling like your ears are on fire. Felix perks up when he hears you say that, so it’s worth it, mostly.

“Oh, really? Well,” he simpers, “I think you’re very attractive as well.”

You put your elbows on your knees and rest your head in your hands, tilting your head at him. 

“I would imagine that mer attractiveness has a lot to do with tail, right? It’s hard to compare, but not everyone’s is that bright, is it?”

Felix looks down at his tail,comparing himself to other mers he knows in silence. It really is hard to create comparisons because you’ve learned that quite a few assumptions are incorrect in human literature, so you don’t want to use that as a basis.

“The deep mers have much darker tails, usually. Anything with a light makes them easier to find in the dark, so they don’t need that. Mine is about the usual, maybe a bit more shiny than others. It’s hard to tell, because we have all sorts of tactics to make our tails seem brighter for a time. Pearls were really common, but now humans take most of those.”

“Woah, wait. Pearls were common, like real pearls? People usually just force the clams to create pearls now, though they’re not as valuable.”

Felix nods, biting on his lip with a distant look. 

“We have seen them from far away, the humans with strange feet, then when we look after there is something in the clam.”

“Yeah, it’s probably not good for the clams, but most people don’t think about it. But what would you guys use the pearls for, before we took all of them?”

Felix makes a little excited clicking noise with his tongue, making you wonder if it’s simply a sound or if that is a way to communicate underwater. 

“Only shallow mermaids use them, since there isn’t enough light for it to matter for the deep mers. We’d crush them with rocks and then brush the dust on someone’s tail. Sometimes the light would be just right and it would be blinding. It was a sign of gathering prowess, since you would only look for pearls after you had gathered enough food. A common courting gift as well, since everyone would look at those shining tails, but you would know that they were shining because of you.”

You give a brief little coo, just imagining these young mers swimming around with shining tails, and shyly handing each other little pearls. It strikes you just how similar the human and mer worlds can be, even if you live separately in wildly different environments. 

Several days later, you leave the house with lunch in hand. You haven’t really talked about it, but given how interested Felix is in humans you assume he’ll want to try the food. It’s a rather basic set of dishes honestly, but you just hope Felix will be willing to try these strange human ingredients.

When you plop down and pull some food out, Felix isn’t here yet so you take the time to try and arrange it nicely. Why, you’re not sure because even if Felix doesn’t eat it you certainly will be. 

A few minutes later, a small splash tells you he’s here. As usual, you assume Felix meant to approach silently and scare you, since he seems to find your reactions amusing. Instead he swam too close to the surface and flicked his tail above the water. If anyone else was around it would have looked enough like a fish that they wouldn’t have questioned it, but you’re as grateful as always that this place is rarely occupied. You have the brief thought to prank him back a little, but before you have a good idea you see his form appear beside you. 

When Felix comes up his eyes are on you, but you grab one little sandwich and wave it in front of his face. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open, creating three perfect little circles on his face. At first it looks like he’s going to lunge for the food, but he just keeps his arms there and looks like a little t-rex. Without saying a word he looks up at you and pouts, like you’re denying him the food. 

“What?” You say, “eat it, I brought it for you. Hopefully you’re not allergic to any of this or we’ll have a real problem.” 

The last part is mostly said to yourself. As soon as you give permission, he’s grabbing at it. Temporarily, you forget that he doesn’t exactly know how this food works and turn behind you to look at a notification on your phone. . Mistakenly, he grabs a banana and holds it before taking a solid bite out of it. You don’t notice until he starts making garbled half-words and you look back at him. 

You bust out laughing, and lean forward to take it from him. You have to pick up a napkin for him to get rid of the piece in his mouth, and you keep laughing at the way he runs his tongue over his teeth, still confused about the texture he just experienced. Once you finally calm down, you show him that you have to peel it, and he’s suddenly excited again when he sees the good part underneath. 

Obviously, that part is much better and he reaches for a piece of cheese with the same enthusiasm he had before. The face that he pulls is nearly identical but you just raise an eyebrow and keep eating what you have, waiting for him to explain. 

“It’s just so soft. Everything we eat underwater is so hard to chew, but this just… goes.”

Determined to confuse him one last time, you reach in to your lunch basket and pull out a little sucker. Learning from past mistakes, you take the plastic off and hold it out to him. 

“This one, you just suck on.” Felix looks at you with zero comprehension on his face. “Like… swallow with it in your mouth, but don’t let it go down your throat.”

It makes you realize how strange some human things are, because how are you meant to explain how to suck on something? You watch closely just to make sure he isn’t going to choke on it or anything. The instructions you gave weren’t the best and Felix is almost too eager to get his hands on human items. 

He doesn’t choke, and is pleasantly surprised by the high sugar and the fake fruit flavour. For a second you worry about giving him so much sugar, since nothing underwater would be like that, but you’re sure he’ll be fine. 

Just a bit of human food sometimes, you know, as a treat. 

“Hey, can you get over there somehow? If you can, come in 2 sun rounds from now.” 

Felix points at a spot down the land and hidden from most of the land where you are. From where you are, there’s a small opening in the foliage and you can see some sort of structure, a place that he could easily stay hidden. 

You nod yes, and then open your mouth to ask why, but Felix turns and disappears as soon as you nod. You shout after him once and then click your mouth shut to not get caught just yelling at the ocean. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Felix is a secret to anyone but you.He’s so open with you that you just want to tell everyone. But then you remember his earnest looks and the way he hangs on to every word, and you just can’t. 

Two days later you trample over more than a few bushes, getting over to the secluded half cave that Felix had pointed out. It’s farther into the afternoon than you normally come down, but if Felix makes a request, you’re more than likely to agree at this point.

He’s so sweet that you just can’t resist; it’s not your fault! It might be your fault that when he pouts you want to kiss him… if he just wasn’t so cute, though! These days you spend a lot of time thinking about the next time you and Felix agree to meet up. 

Sure, you might think about the freckles dotting his face and how you want to trace them but nothing beats turning and seeing them yourself. Or his blinding smile and how it seems to be your own personal sun, especially when you’ve caused it. It hasn’t been long since you met Felix, but something about him keeps you coming back. 

Maybe it is the way he seems to be a fierce hunter, no matter how much he denies it, which contrasts sharply with his soft, fairy-like appearance. Or how soothing his voice is when he tells a story, but still the way it rises and falls with purpose during certain moments. 

You can think about these things all night long, though you haven’t actually reached that point yet, but nothing can compare to having him in person. Maybe, you think before realizing how cheesy it is, nobody you’ve met really compares to him at all. 

Getting to the wall of the cave, you have to make a near full circle around it before you find an entrance that you can fit through. Most of the ceiling is open but what draws your eye is Felix laying on the sand. His scales glitter from the sun and as much as you want to look, the reflection is blinding. Instead, you’re more than happy to focus on his face.

Obviously, he hasn’t noticed you come in and is still humming to himself eyes closed. The freckles on his face seem darker and you wonder how long he’s been here before you came. Every few seconds he does a little wiggle along with the song and it takes everything you have not to giggle in adoration. 

“Lixie~ is this today’s activity?” You call to him softly, watching as he sits up and whips his head towards your voice.

“You made it! I’ve been waiting for you for so long.” 

You kick your sandals to the back of the cave and take a place next to him. From this angle his scales aren’t reflecting so aggressively and you stare again at the vibrancy. 

“You didn’t give me a time, obviously, so I just had to guess when you’d want me to show up. I’m here now so it’s fine, right?”

Felix simply hums and rolls closer to you, pressing his upper body against your leg. You let him for a few minutes, watching the water at the other entrance of the cave. Eventually, Felix moves his head up to rest in your lap. He smushes his face down into it and mumbles something you don’t understand, making you look down at him.

“What did you say? I can’t hear with your mouth all smushed like that.”

Turning his head up at you, Felix’s cheeks have reddened and he’s pouting like it’s your fault you couldn’t hear him properly. 

“I said that everything is fine when you’re here.”

You freeze at the mumbled words, feeling the heat crawl up your neck and face. After saying that, Felix turns his face away but you can still see the redness on his face. It knocks you out of your stupor to coo over him, the urge is honestly just unstoppable. 

“I swear you get cuter every time I see you, how do you do it!”

With both hands you grab his face, turning it back towards you. His eyes reflect the sun coming through the roof and suddenly you can see all sorts of stars. It makes you think a little, but only later on when you’re done fawning over everything about Felix, in your head and out loud. You’re the only human he’s ever met, so is that the only reason why he’s still sticking with you? 

‘It doesn’t matter,’ you decide, shaking your head to try and clear the thoughts away. Felix has expressed no interest in meeting other humans, so he’s with you regardless. 

You’re sitting in that cave again, staring down at Felix’s peaceful face when you decide to ask.

“Hey, Felix?” He just hums so that you know he’s awake and listening. “How do you have freckles? At least from what I know, a lot of light doesn’t really make it under the water.”

Felix hums again, and you can tell he is beginning to fall asleep from the way it takes him a few minutes to answer. You feel a bit bad for keeping him awake with a simple question, but the way he looks up at you makes you think he might not mind. 

“I don’t spend most of my time this close to land. My pod and I spend most of the year far out in the ocean since it’s the best place to hunt. When I was young, I had hardly any responsibilities, and I was very curious so I went up to the surface often. Early on, I discovered how much I enjoy laying on top of the water or just under it and feeling the sun. Sometimes, I spent so long up there that my family worried about where I was, but I usually kept it down to a few hours. It was hard to keep it a secret when it led to developing the freckles, they all had a field day with that.”

You imagine a young Felix, stealing away to lay on the water and just float there. At this point, you know Felix has just as much of a heart and soul as you do but it is these moments that strike you as being more similar than anything else. Everything about his activities is something that you have seen in yourself or others; a carefree spirit who doesn’t understand the possible consequences of their actions yet. All they care about is having fun, and they will do that in any way they can. 

One more incident from that cave area sticks in your mind, appearing periodically. It was about a week ago, though some incidents blend together since staring at his freckles has become a regular occurrence. 

You were coming up on the cave area, and Felix is laid out as he usually is.That time you must have been louder than usual, since Felix opened his eyes and turned his head to you. A smirk spread on his face before he spoke.

“Hey there, pretty human. Do you want to sunbathe with me? The sand is nice and warm already.”

To this day, you genuinely have no idea what came over you to make you say what you did.

“If it gives me freckles and company as pretty as you, then I’ll gladly stay all day.” 

Whatever reason it was to make you say that, Felix’s reaction was absolutely worth it, and you wish you had the boldness to make it happen again.

“Are the gills on your neck the only ones you have? They look pretty big, but I don’t know if that would be enough, since you’re bigger than actual fish.”

Felix hoists himself closer up to you, revealing the edge of his tail. He grabs your hand and brings it to where you can feel a set of gills pulsing above the water. 

“I have two parts down by my tail for when I have my head above water. How do you breathe above the water?” 

Gently lowering himself into the water, Felix looks up at you, obviously searching for something on the outside of your body that makes you breathe. You return the gesture, grabbing his hand and splaying his fingers across your chest.

“I breathe in through my nose or mouth, and  have these two lungs in my chest. It goes through a whole system in my body and then I breathe it back out as something else. Don’t ask me what anything is called, I left that behind me! Mostly.”

Contrary to what you may have thought, Felix’s hand is actually fairly warm where it sits on your chest. Even after you’re done explaining, he keeps his hand there, feeling the gentle rise and fall of your breath. Unfortunately, it does the pesky thing of reminding you that you have to breathe. 

Earlier, Felix had pulled your hand, causing you to move closer and dipping your toes in the water. Now, you keep moving forward until it’s halfway up your calves. Felix can’t really get up onto the dock to be closer to you, but he doesn’t move away after you both seem to realize what’s going on. 

“Felix, can I kiss you?” 

Felix wrinkles his nose and you almost spring to your feet but you let him speak.

“What… kiss? I don’t… I don’t know what that means.” He looks embarrassed and you almost face palm. 

“It is, hm, a way for people to show affection for each other. You might kiss someone’s forehead, nose, or cheek. They all mean different things. On the lips is the most… intimate form of it. Do you have anything like that?” 

There is no sign of rejection on his face as you explain, so you let yourself stay close as he considers. 

“Gifts are the most common sign of affection. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell you, but the day you brought food was seen as a very big gift to me. Something like that would have been a courting invitation in my area, and if I had given something back it would have been acceptance. I didn’t want to do that to you, even if you didn’t know what it would mean.”

You lean forward even more and put your hands on his cheeks, feeling them heat under your touch. 

“I would be honoured to be courted by you. But… how would this work? You can’t come up here, and I can’t go down, unless I get a special suit.”

You almost regret your words within seconds when Felix’s face falls, but you decide that bringing this up would be better sooner than later. The thing is, you are very willing to be here and do this, but you’re not sure if Felix is. There are so many things that could go haywire, especially on his end, so you don’t want to just fling yourself in blind.

“I don’t know.” He says slowly, “but, I am willing to try. If any problems occur, then we can work them out. I mean, assuming you are willing to try as well.”

You smile gently and Felix mirrors it hesitantly.

“I am very willing to try, I just don’t want to hurt you.” You tilt your head down and kiss both of his cheeks. 

The red spreads further back to his ears and you giggle at his shocked face.

“Was that a kiss? It felt nice, and soft like bubbles popping. And you can do that on my lips, as well?” 

Your eyes widen at his boldness, yet at the same time he’s failing to meet your eyes and looking down at something. 

“I can, but you have to look up at me first, sunshine. There you go, there’s that pretty face.”

For a moment you let him recover from his shyness, smoothing your fingers over his cheeks. Closer and closer you get before you gently bump noses, staring at each other.

“Usually people close their eyes as well.” You mumble, feeling your lips brush. Felix dutifully closes his eyes, and you take just a second to study his face. 

His lips are salty, of course, and a little rough. You stay for just a second before leaning back only millimetres, staying with chaste little pecks. Only when Felix chases your lips and whines do you let yourself linger for longer. Slowly, gently guiding him on how to move his lips against yours. 

Eventually, he starts to understand and catches up to your pace. Both of you are reluctant to pull away, but you can’t focus on breathing like that. When you open your eyes, Feix is already looking at you with big eyes, seemingly in shock.

“Wow, I see why you would want to do that now. Next time, I will bring you a gift and start the courting process?” 

You nod eagerly, still out of words from your brain being taken over by incoherent thoughts about Felix’s lips. 

Just a few months ago, you firmly believed that no kind of magic exists. It might be debatable if Felix is really magic, or how mers work at all, but if anything was going to be the slightest bit magical it would be him. And it would have nothing to do with being a merman. 

[animeyanderelover]

Hey! I saw your request were open.sorry if their not you can delete this of their not.anyway can i please request prompt #32 with Ran-Mao from black butler please?thank you a lot! Btw I really love your blog.your a great writer!!

I’m always giving my best darling❤️.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, harassment, stalking, obsessiveness, violence, killing, blood, body parts

Prompt 32: “Babe! I brought you a gift. You don’t know what that is? Let me tell you. These are the eyes of the person who kept looking at you today.”

You wondered where she had gone. It was not like her to miss out a chance to spend time with you, this just wasn’t like Ran Mao. Usually she always waited in front of your house, following you silently in the house and spending the rest of the night and early morning cuddling with you.

You had no idea when exactly she had even confessed to you, you couldn’t remember that she had ever told you about her feelings. Ran Mao wasn’t very talkative.

When you had first met her, together with this guy named Lau, you had even doubted that she could understand your language at all. The few times she had said something, she had spoken in a more broken tone, giving you the feeling that she didn’t know the words.

But she seemed to understand everything just fine, you had taken notice of that the moment you had accidentally mentioned one time that you had wanted desperately some pastries a new bakery had started selling. Sadly you were at that time a bit short on money, having to miss this sweet temptation.

Maybe that was how she had confessed to you now that you were thinking about it. Because she had stood for the first time in front of your house at that time, holding a huge box with the logo of the bakery in her hands. Not a single word had been uttered, she had just given it to you, waiting for your reaction.

You had never interacted with her before, she had only sat on Lau’s lap, watching when you two had been talking. God knows how you had managed to make friends with that guy, but he was a funny guy to be with after all.

But at one point she had just started to pay more attention to you, her golden eyes constantly watching you and seemingly being interested in whatever word you had spoken.

And on that night you had let her for the first time in your house, this gorgeous Chinese beauty.

And from there on this had become a routine, her always waiting for you at the front door after you had finished work and you two just spending the following few hours together before you two fell asleep together.

You had at first been worried for Lau, fearing that he might be somewhat hurt by Ran Mao’s sudden change in behavior. But luckily he didn’t seem all too affected by it. Much more on the contrary. He had told you that he was happy for her since he had noticed that she seemed to be in a much more good mood since she had met you and you had started dedicating more time to her.

The first time she had suddenly started sitting on your lap rather than Lau’s, you had been a bashful mess, not a single word had left your mouth. You hadn’t been able to think clearly, not with her on your lap and hugging you in front of Lau, who had seemed more amused by this.

You still weren’t completely used to it, Ran Mao was incredibly distracting. Not in a bad way, but she was very attractive, no one could deny that. You had once tried to talk with her about this behavior of hers. It wasn’t like you didn’t like it, but it was just the fact that you would like to avoid misunderstandings since she even did it in front of other people.

She had not understood it, she had just tilted her head back then and watched you as if not sure if she had heard it right. You had felt terribly bad afterwards, trying to make it up by being more cuddly and tolerating when you two were in private. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t have been touchy even if you wouldn’t have been.

She had learned to restrain herself more in public even though she still clinged into your arm all the time. But at the very least she had stopped placing herself in your lap except when with Lau or alone. You had never expected her to be the clingy type when you had first seen her, she had looked more cold.

In reality she was anything, but cold. In fact she was one of the most lovely persons you had met. She rarely talked, but she was just so mindful and lovingly with everything else she did that you felt thankful for having crossed paths with her. She had always been there for you.

Maybe that was why you felt a bit hurt right now. Because she wasn’t here. And especially today you really would have needed someone to comfort and listen to you. Ran Mao knew that as well, didn’t she? She had been there when this person had kept looking at you, the reel of alcohol and his rotten breath still causing you to feel nauseous.

Luckily he hadn’t approached you, Ran Mao having stopped him with a quick kick which had led him to landing on his face before she had grabbed your hand and quickly dragged you away from the man who had started shouting and cursing at you two, spitting out some rather nasty words before an police man had stopped him and taken him under custody. Letting a drunken man like this run freely around wouldn’t have been a good idea anyways.

You turned around in your bed, eyes trailing instantly to the spot Ran Mao would have layed by now. You missed her a lot right now. Lau had informed you that she had been busy with something, but you hadn’t expected that it would take her that long. Normally she always finished her tasks in the matter of less than an hours. What was taking her so long?

He could only stare at the person in fear, shaking like crazy. It was too dark to confirm who exactly it was, but from the dim light that the moon was gifting him, he was sure he could indentify the body line of a woman.

But that was not possible, not from the utter display of skilled and brute strength he had just witnessed. No one fought like this! No human could destroy a whole wall and knock out all officers!

Maybe he was still drunk? He had quite the few shots after all. No, he surely hadn’t drunken that much. The fear was way to real and even if he should still have been somewhat foggy before, he was sure he had sobered up by now.

“No human can do this...” There was this small and terrifying thought crossing his mind, one he refused to believe. What was he thinking? Stuff like vampires and witches where some dumb shot from fairy tails. And yet, when he looked into those golden eyes, ice-cold and yet burning with a bright fire, he couldn’t help, but think of one word. “A demon.”

It seemed like the devil had decided to go after him. He should have listened to his parents, his friends, everyone around him. Everyone had warned him that one day he would get a payback for his actions, his disloyalty, his habit of drinking until late at night. And now death would finally punish him in the form of the creatures he had always chased after. How mocking fate was.

“You hurt...the most precious person.” After that he only remembered darkness. Eternal darkness.

“Babe!” You stirred up from your slumber, being softly shaken by someone. Who? What? Where? You slowly sat up, stretching yourself to get rid of the stiffness and rubbing your eyes.

With still half-closed eyes you turned around, blinking several times in an attempt to widen your field of vision. And that’s when you finally noticed the person sitting beside you on the bed.

You were at first happy that she had finally made it, you must have fallen asleep whilst waiting for her. But that’s when something else crossed your mind. How did she get inside...?

Just as you were about to ask her the question, you noticed the open window, halting in your actions. Had she...?

“Ran Mao...” Judging from the way she had cuddled herself comfortably next to your side, she was listening, eyes waiting you to finish your sentence.

“Did-did you enter through the window? The closed window? At least ten meters above the ground?” You were flabbergasted the moment she simply nodded like it wasn’t anything special. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of the abilities of Ran Mao, you knew she was agile, strong and an excellent fighter. You hadn’t known that she had much more up her sleeves, but that wasn’t what shocked you so much. It was the fact that she didn’t seem to realize that breaking into your house was...well, wrong.

“Why are you here?” You we’re still staring stunned at the opened window, asking yourself how she had managed to open it from the outside without breaking it. That was before your attention was shifted from the window to a small and noble looking wooden box, fine patterns being carved into it. “I brought you a gift.”

Her words still sounded a bit slow-spoken, but it was surprising that she was talking so much in the first place. You didn’t mind, you really liked her voice. But mixed with this rather...odd situation it felt a bit weird.

You slowly took the box, observing it a bit. “Is that the reason why you were so busy?” A small nod of confirmation from Ran Mao was all you needed. And in that moment you started feeling a bit guilty, giving her a somewhat unsure look.

“I appreciate it, really. But I feel bad since I don’t have anything for you...Just like all the other times you gifted me something.”

It happened all so often that Ran Mao gifted you something, no matter how expensive or rare. She seemed to always find ways to get you what you wanted. And different from with the physical affection, she hadn’t slowed it down when you had talked with her about it. You had felt terrible because you knew you would never be able to get her the things she gifted you, there had even been a time where you had tried to reject the presents because you had felt too bad.

You had stopped not long afterwards, after she had just stood there, holding her arms out in expectations of you taking it, a certain feeling of slight desperation and hurt surrounding her. You hadn’t been able to say no to those leading eyes.

What had she gifted you so far? Pastries, expensive ingredients, jewelry, clothes, flowers, decorations...The list was long. Whenever you had expressed your interest in something, you had gotten it only shortly afterwards from her. But you couldn’t recall that you had showed interest in anything lately, making you curious about what she had gotten you so suddenly. You suspected she had bought you something due to the recent accident.

“You don’t know what this is?” You guessed your reaction could have been worse than just kind of freezing the moment you opened the small box and were met with a nasty stench, two round-like things laying inside the piece of wood. You didn’t know why you were so calm, this would have been the perfect moment to scream and have a panic attack.

Maybe...just maybe it was due to the fact that you had used to work in a hospital and had seen some stuff in there.

But you had definitely never seen eyeballs that detailed and clearly before, not to mention not placed in the skull which they should have been instead of in a small expensive box, gifted as a present to you. Were you crazy for suddenly thinking how she had been able to rip them out so clearly and cleaned them up so well? Shouldn’t you worry more about the person who was missing them right now or if they were even alive anymore? Yes, yes you should.

“Let me tell you.” You really wished to find out how she could sound so incredibly casually right now given the fact that she had just given you the eyes of someone. Shouldn’t she act a bit different as well? Panicked? Guilty? Maybe angry because that person did something wrong to you? Really anything, but her usual clingy and calm self?

“These are the eyes of the person who kept looking at you today.” You didn’t do anything when she started rubbing her face against yours, wanting more physical contact with you. You didn’t know if you were either too shocked or if your brain had just stopped working, you only knew that you felt somewhat blank in that moment. You probably just didn’t know how to react to this and what to think, leading you to doing nothing.

Ran Mao seemed to notice it as well, blinking a bit confused. “Don’t you...like it?” What was this even for a question?

[zedpercyfan]

The Sirens of Cerulean | Part Two

Yes!  After over a year of stalling due to multiple issues, he is part two!

The Sirens

 Ash found his voice.  “You…” he began.  “You’re a Siren, right?”  

He couldn’t help but stare in awe, beyond all doubt he had certainly come to Cerulean in hopes to find the strange source of the power influxes, and he had arrived under the suspicion of the Siren legends – it never lessened the shock of actually laying eyes on one, however.

Misty however remained frozen, her hands held in front of her chest in pure fright, terror in her eyes.  A human, she thought nervously. I’m in front of an actual human!  I-I never thought that one would ever see us, at least in my lifetime…

She eyed him nervously, a stare filled with fear of the unknown.  She had heard rumors often enough about the humankinds’ ability for acts of evil and had no intention of finding out what those were.

Ash – if he was at all aware of Misty’s thoughts – would have to agree with her in the inversed, as he too felt filled with a certain amount of dread at the sight of the creature before him.  She looked human enough, but she clearly wasn’t – to him she looks like a monster.  After a few seconds of their awkward staring contest, Ash gulped and Pikachu cautiously hopped onto the ground.  Misty’s pupils shrunk and back further against her stony prison.

It was then that a strange power came off of her – Ash sensed it and hesitated, she was scared – he could hear smidgeons of the stress she was under.  The man averted his eyes, and slowly, very slowly pulled his gloves off and held his hands out in a manner of showing that he wasn’t armed.  “E-easy now,” he said as evenly as possible, “I just want to help…”

But Misty remained uncertain and on edge as the stranger approached her.  She had heard tales of what humans were capable of, both the good and the bad. She was cornered, the fog made everything look blurry, no escape possible – it was a terrible situation.

Ash continued his slow and vulnerable approached. But as he got to the edge of the water, Misty loudly flinched and flicked water at him.  “You’re injured,” Ash uselessly commented.  The Siren gave a low growl.  “Easy, I’m here to help.  I will help,” went on Ash.  But Misty remained scared.

Pikachu watched the situation uneasily and decided to step in since Ash’s methods weren’t working.

Misty let out a squeak as a strange land-dwelling Pokémon stepped in front of her, talking in its own language to her. Sirens were just as knowledgeable about Pokémon as humans, so she failed to comprehend what the electric mouse was saying.  “Hi…?” said Misty.

“Pi pika, pikapi!”

Misty just looked at the creature in astonishment. Unlike the human, and despite it still being a creature she was unfamiliar with, she felt a strange sense of trust in it.  It gave off a friendly aura, she thought.  As this ‘Pikachu’ was spilling his verbal guts to her, Misty began to get the feeling in her heart that those words were of the good sort – and it all had to do with the human in front of them.

Pikachu soon ran out of breath and heaved a sigh – he had done all that he could to try and tell this bizarre yet beautiful humanoid creature all that he could.  He stepped back.  “Pika, Pikapi pi.”  Ash nodded his thanks and stepped slowly forward.

“May I?” said Ash.  Misty silently nodded her head as she nervously brought her tail up. A nervousness came over Ash, the moment he touched her tail it did in a way feel no different than if he was helping a water type Pokémon, yet simultaneously he knew this is a genuine tail which belongs to a being thought to be nonexistent.  He examined the bleeding area.  “Slight bruise, the cut isn’t too deep but still needs to be disinfected.”  He paused as he realized he did not know if Sirens were susceptible to infections or not.  “Uh – do you need your wound cleaned?”

“Err, I-I will need disinfecting,” said Misty quietly.

“Oh, oh I see!  But, hmm...on scales…”

“My tail is too difficult to bandage?”

“Well, I’m not exactly used to bandaging scales you see.”

“There is a way that I can make it easier for you,” replied Misty.  “Lift me out of the water.”

“Can’t see how that would help, but all right,” said Ash doubtfully, but he did as he was told.  He gently reached under and lifted the Siren out of the water.

Then it happened.

OoOoO

Tracey put his binoculars down and heaved a heavy sigh – no ships had dared come close to the shore.  The waves kept up their ruthless hammering, however, and from the fog as a wave came in came a terrible cry.

“Help!” it called.

Tracey jumped and nearly slipped on the wet balcony. He peered into the soup to hear that it was coming from his lower right.  He dashed quickly back into his lighthouse to prepare for rescue.

“Could be a small fishing boat,” he muttered. “Or men who fell off their ship in the waves!  By Arceus this job!”

OoOoO

A bright light shone from Misty’s tail. Ash winced and had to shut his eyes tight from the blinding force.  In seconds from it starting, from his closed eyes the man soon realized the light had died down.  Ash opened one eye.

“Huh!” he gasped.  He twisted the other away, feeling horrified by what he saw.  The short haired girl, who had a tail, suddenly had no tail, just bare-naked legs.  The only thing she had on left was her seashell bra, but that offered little consolidation.

“Oh!  Sorry if this offends,” apologized Misty, though she couldn’t fathom the issue.

“N-no problem…” said Ash.  He quickly put her down, pulled off his blue coat and whisked it over her body.  “Here.”

“What’s this for?”

“To cover your…privates.”

“I see, thank you.”  Misty leaned back, the rock wasn’t comfortable, but its own slick quality and wave worn state made it smooth and cool to the touch.

Ash shivered a slight bit from the lack of his coat, but with what he had in his pockets he quickly set about disinfecting her. “So…does that always happen when you’re out of water?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” replied Misty simply.  “On land we lose our tails and gain legs.  It’s an adaptation we acquired some millions of years ago.”

“I-I see,” said Ash as his face felt hotter than the rest of his body, “and you’re used to this?”

“Well, I’ve never really been on land before,” replied Misty as her eyes scoured the surrounding area.  “I only know that this can happen from seeing other Sirens going through it.”

“You’re not cold?” went on Ash.  The harsh winds were biting, and the salty sea spray didn’t help matters for him, but it seemed Misty was unaffected.

“I don’t feel a thing,” she replied.

Ash raised an eyebrow and turned to Pikachu. “Flexible body temperature regulation? How very interesting…”

OoOoO

Tracey finished his scout of the horizon as well as shooting warning signals into the air.  All ships were too far away on to be in danger from the sudden waves.

“Ahoy!” he yelled for the umpteenth.  “Anyone there?  Ahoy!”

A blond figure peered over the top of a small cliff at the lighthouse keeper as he tried to make a right and head further up a rockface.  Tracey bumbled backwards after losing his grip, loose rock began to fall behind him. The blond cried out in shock.  The male whirled around and caught sight of a naked blond woman.

“Ahoy there- ?!” he stopped short.

Daisy averted her eyes towards the ocean.  “Um, hi.”

OoOoO

Ash soon finished bandaging her.  “Not the best job I can do out here, but it’ll do.”

“Thanks,” said Misty gratefully as she slowly helped herself up.  Her figure, Ash observed, almost a head shorter than him – only just.  “I’d have been in real trouble if it weren’t for you.”

“Oh, happened to be passing by, no trouble at all! Glad to be of help to you, er…I don’t think I caught your name, miss.”

Misty scoffed and looked away.  “Most wouldn’t.”

“Well…I’m Ash, Ash Ketchum.”

“Misty.  We usually don’t use surnames back home, but apparently our father had the name Waterflower.”

“I suppose you are,” quipped Ash, amused by his own wit.  Pikachu rolled his eyes.

Misty cocked her head to one side.  “Um, I am me, though.  Right?”

“Yes, indeed you are.  Slip of the tongue, no harm meant.”  Ash blinked and decided his sarcasm wasn’t welcomed.  He continued smiling, but his eyes carefully examined Misty. Finally, he found one of these elusive creatures – but before Ash could ask any questions the Siren’s eyes flashed up as though panicked – then a voice rang over the shores from the hills nearby.

“Ash!  Ash!? Are you there?” cried Tracey as he climbed to the top of a small hill of sand and rocks.  He spotted Ash with a girl he had never seen before.  “There you are!”

“Need something, Keeper?” called Ash.

“Yes!  I need your help.”  He paused as though uncertain of what to say next.  “I’ve found a Siren by the water and is not used to her legs.”

OoOoO

“It’s incredible, absolutely incredible!” exclaimed Tracey as he paced back forth in the small dining area of the lighthouse. “Both are Sirens, and sisters to boot?”  He pinched his arm.

“Is it really that hard to believe?” asked Misty obliviously.  She and Daisy were both in seats side by side while Ash and Tracey were standing.

“Well, I guess not,” said Tracey as he chuckled nervously.  “But…” He meaningfully looked at the two women. “For years we’ve heard stories and rumors of your kinds existence.  To finally meet you is an honor and privilege.”

“Why thank you,” said Daisy, beaming before returning to the tea she and her sister had received.  She stole a look at Misty.  ‘You’re injured,’ she said telepathically.

‘Yeah, tail got caught on a sharp rock when those waves came in and forced me onto one.’

Daisy looked over sympathetically.  Ash watched the interaction with interest as he and Tracey watched the soundless interaction.  He wasn’t able to hear what they were saying but he sensed something was happening.  Ash brushed his curiosity aside and decided to get the ball rolling.

“So, tell us, what’s it like to live in the water as opposed to up here?”

The two considered.  “Oh, it’s wonderful in the sea,” replied Daisy.  “We live in harmony with the water type Pokémon within our cities-”

“Cities?” said Tracey.  “You mean you build underwater civilizations, just like our own?”

“Yes, we do,” added Misty.  “They’re built out of stone, marble and steel.”  

“Steel?”  Tracey was perplexed.

The orange head spared glance at the gaslights in the room’s corners.  “Compared to you, we’re also considerably more advanced.”

“How so?”

“For a start we don’t have those dangerous fiery things,” said Daisy, referring to the lamp.  “Nor plain wooden doors.  We’ve seen your women; their clothes are very baggy and strange.  Nor do we have that strange hissing thing you have downstairs…”

“But boilers are standard for lighthouses…” Tracey felt hurt.

“Sorry if this sounds dumb.  But what are your lighthouses for anyway?”

The lighthouse keeper blinked.  “This place is for guiding ships, away from the rocks, that is.”

“Ah,” said the blond.  “We just use homing beacons.”  Tracey just stared at Ash, who shrugged back and cleared his throat.

“Well,” he said, trying to change the conversation, “at any rate, your home sounds rather interesting.  You’ve seen bits of our world – now we’d like to see yours since no human has seen your kind before.”

Both girls looked uncomfortable.  Tracey was concerned.  “What’s the matter?”

“We’re not exactly welcomed at our city…” said Daisy.

“So, you’re outcasts to them?”

“Yes,” replied Misty.  She looked up at the two humans.  “Nor would you two be welcomed either.”

“What?” exclaimed Tracey.  Ash, Pikachu, and Marill joined him in being shocked. “Why?  Is it because we’re so different?”

“They do have tails and the ability to breathe underwater compared to us,” put in Ash.

“Not just those differences, there’s more to it than those,” said Misty.

“See we used to live with respect for humans,” explained Daisy.  “We lived for years without actively engaging with your kind.  We knew of your existence, but we never interfered with what you did.  We often grew careless in our isolation, so some of you have had small sightings of us.”

“Which resulted in these legends?” asked Ash as he flipped through his book and showed her a page where a sailor on a boat was looking at a single Siren.

Daisy’s eyes lit up at the picture.  “Yes, but so few saw us that we became obscured to your people.  Even though you partially knew of us, we prove too secretive to be found so easily.”

“Until now, with all the singing?” Tracey asked.

Daisy went red and looked away.  “Yes, but see…”  She gulped and couldn’t continue.

“The situation has changed, see,” said Misty. “For years we’ve lived separately from you without interacting, that was how our leader wanted it.  All that’s changed however…”  Her face became grim and depressed.  “Now they’re seeking to destroy all of you off the face of Earth.”

OoOoO

“So, two of those witches are with the humans now, huh?” said Rudy with barely restricted venom in his tone.  “And the humans know that they are Sirens?”

“Y-y-yes sir,” stammered a scout.

“Damn!” snapped Rudy as he angrily swatted at his coral glass.  The force knocked it into the stone floor where it shattered.  “Very well, if that’s the game they want to play then we must start moving our plans now!”  He swam briskly towards an intercom and jabbed a button.  “Alan and Stuart, get in here now.”  He turned to the entrance of his palace.  “Paul!”

Within mere seconds the three Sirens swam in. Paul swam grimly in front and saluted. “Lord Rudy?”

“Brothers!” shouted their leader.  “For years we have had to tolerate those apes at the top.  I have promised you retribution for all that they have done.  The plan was to wait, but it turns out those bleeding-hearted rebels have two of their girls up on the surface.  We have yet to sense their influence on those humans, so we must strike before them.” He turned to the scout. “Sean!  How did they get to the filth?”

“Got caught in the waves, my lord,” said Sean hesitantly.  “Both were pushed out of the water.”

“Blast…oh never mind, in the confusion we have the advantage.”  His underlings seemed confused – Rudy slapped his forehead in annoyance.  “The storm is a perfect cover!  None of those primitives are paying attention to what’s happening.  They’ll accept anything that shows up, even us.  Grab one of the captured boats and pretend you’re merchants using the info we’ve gathered from the deceases brains.  It’s then a matter of laying our traps.”

“Sir!”  With a salute Alan and Stuart left to make the preparations.  Paul stayed to give a glance to Rudy.

“What of me, sir?”

Rudy’s look was stern yet relaxed.  “I need someone reliable to go with them, an insurance if you will.  I can’t trust those two to entirely make sure that things go according to plan.  Make sure our message to the vermin is…smashed in.”

Paul closed his eyes and grunted in acknowledgement.

OoOoO

“We can’t have that,” said Ash grimly as paced around the tight space.

“Us?”  Tracey was beside himself with shock.  “But what did we ever do to you?”

“It’s not what you’ve done to us,” said Daisy. “See it’s – er – it’s complicated.”

Tracey looked like he couldn’t understand.  “I don’t get it.  We can’t breathe underwater!  We’re stuck on land.  What have we ever done?”

“Just that you’ve been deemed vermin,” said Misty with a hint of disdain.  “Our old ruler finally died of old age – 152 he was.  His successor, Rudy, somehow gathered our kind together in a matter of days to rally behind him against you.”

“All of your brothers and sisters?” breathed Tracey. “How?!  We humans can barely get along ourselves.”

“Much less united to one thought,” finished Ash. “And you two don’t share that view?”

“Our two middle sisters, too,” confirmed Daisy. “Along with a handful of others. We’re small, but our numbers are still noticeable.”

“Went into hiding as a side effect,” muttered Misty.

“Yet despite your different views, Rudy still managed to get the majority.”  Ash paused and held a finger to his lips to think.  Pikachu flicked his own ears as he adopted the same expression as his Master. “I prefer to see things for myself if you don’t mind,” he announced.  “Could you show us a view of your home?”

“What?  Why?!” they two Sirens said at the same time.

“We don’t have to get too close.  Just enough to get an idea what we’re facing.”

“Agreed!” added Tracey.

“But there’s danger!” insisted Misty.

“So?” retorted Ash.  “If we’re in as much danger as you say we are, then I think we’re entitled to at least seeing how our enemies live.  Are you with me, Tracey?”  He turned to face the lighthouse keeper who felt instantly put on the spot.

“Well, y-yes, of course!”

Ash whirled round to the ladies of the room with a cheeky grin and spread his arms out.  “And there you have it.”

OoOoO

The team of Alan, Stuart, and one very irate Paul had collected the boat, allowed it to rise to the surface of the ocean and were currently boarding the small vessel. Soon as they were on the ship their tails disappeared and gave way to legs.  The men pranced unsteadily across the damp boards and Alan and Stuart began to fiddle around with the clothes they were provided.

“This crap’s a lot harder to figure out than I thought,” grumbled Stuart as he failed to put on a pair of pants.  “Leave it land-lovers to create such convoluted devices.”

Alan snorted in agreement and thrashed a hand into the mist.  “Yeah! Strange creatures these humans.”

“Shut up, the both of you,” said Paul.  “The mission is all that you need to focus on.” With that, he forcefully pulled his pants up.

“Oh yes sir,” was Alan’s sarcastic reply.

“Whatever you say, sir.”  They both laughed.  “Free to speak our minds, aren’t we?  You could always just choose to ignore us, Paul.  You do that back home already so well!  Hahahaha!”

Paul sucked his teeth in frustration.  “Your stupidity defies reality…” he muttered.

After they had finally fitted into the salvaged clothes of their enemies, the three men convened in a lower deck.  They observed a vast collection of parts under the glow of their coral-based lamps.

“Our little ‘gift’ for the heathens,” said Alan. “Everything is here as planned. All we have to do is follow Lord Rudy’s outline.”

“Just a matter of getting it physically ready,” replied Paul.  “Think you can handle that at the very least?”

OoOoO

“The very least to hope for is a glimpse at their marvelous city,” said Ash to Tracey as he and the lighthouse keeper descended the stairs in robes, swimming wear underneath to the front door.  They examined the boiler, making sure it was stoked full of coal.  “And you’ve made sure that the automatic whistle is set to go off?”

“Yes,” replied Tracey.  He frowned in thought.  “You know, we’ll be the first humans to ever set eyes on the city of the Sirens. Heh…what an honor…!  Only, they hate us…”

Ash grimaced and patted the keeper’s back. “Come on,” he said, “let’s face adversity together, aye?”

“Pi, pikachu!”

Tracey gave a weak grin, he knew he didn’t feel quite as brave as his two visitors.  “Marill, ready to help me?”  He turned to Ash.  “Er, I forgot, who’s your choice of Pokémon helper?”

The male smiled and produced a Waterball before unleashing a Totodile who began to dance.  “Happy fella isn’t he?” said Ash.  “Keeps the thoughts happy.  No point in brooding over what can’t be helped.”

They went outside where the two Sirens were waiting.

Daisy’s fingers fidgeted.  “Now, to be one-hundred percent sure.  You are aware of the potential danger?”

“Yes,” replied Ash with barely reigned in annoyance, “we know what the risk is.”

“There’s no shame in backing out,” put in Misty. Ash gave her a look and was about to reply when Tracey sensed the air and felt he had to intervene.

“No shame!” he said.  “I mean, we’re just off to observe, not the same as interfering.” He whirled round to Daisy and pointed a finger.  “You said that you and many friends of yours have been living outside the city perimeter, yes?”

“Y-yes, that’s right.”

“But not interfering?”  He got a look in the positive.  “We’re doing the same.  A look out.” His words seemed to calm the feisty Misty down as her shoulders visibly relaxed.

“Right.  Let’s get down, shall we?” she asked.

The girls wrapped their arms around the boys’ arms and went into the water, their respective Pokémon joining them.  The girls felt annoyed at having to repeatedly bring the boys up for air, but soon Daisy grinned in delight as she noticed a sort of plant in the water which she promptly fed to both.  Within minutes oxygen storage became bigger and the tolerance to being unable to draw a breath become longer.

“It gives a sort of…Siren gift,” said Misty.

Good enough for me… thought Ash to himself.  Totodile just guffawed in his usual manner as though nothing was wrong – Marill, however, just stared out of curiosity.

The group swam for miles towards the open ocean before Ash winced slightly as he felt something giving him a headache.  He shrugged it off, however the source was soon to come.

OoOoO

Dawn looked out of a window at the Cerulean Playhouse Inn and frowned.  “What a storm,” she observed.

“What?!” said Barry.  He ran dramatically over to the window, bumping Dawn who gave a grunt of annoyance as her figure banged against the windowsill.  “Just what we needed!  I’m gonna fine whichever God decided to bring this on!”

“Barry!  Base yourself!  It’s a storm, you know we can’t defy those!”

Barry clenched his fists in annoyance and whirled round.  “Hmph! Rain, bad for business, now no one will stop by until this blows over.”

“Oh, quit your whining.  It’s – just – rain.  It’ll pass and we’ll be getting all the travelers who’re in need of a shelter and bath.”  She walked around him and put a finger to his diaphragm.  “You better start adjusting that attitude, Barry, or…”

“Or…what?”

“…Or else someone your size, and perhaps even bigger, will show up and finally take you off that high Ponyta of yours.”  And she turned and walked to her desk.  Barry just scratched his head.

“But I don’t own a Ponyta.”

“Oh, just hush up and make yourself presentable to any guests in town that need getting out of the rain,” she replied. “By that, I mean get out of those muddy pants.”

“Mud…?”  He looked himself over, and sure enough, he had a near foots worth of mud hanging onto his pants.  “I’m gonna fine whoever did this to me!”

Dawn held a hand to her eyes.  “Idiot!  You got them dirty filling in the battle holes of your own choosing! Remember?!”

OoOoO

A light source began to shimmer in the water in front of Ash and Tracey, who could only look in wonderment.  Their swimming path caused them to go pass the ship with Paul and the others onboard, but they didn’t notice or feel them.

They soon reached a cliff that overlooked the Sirens’ city.  Tracey gasped in excitement and looked on in awe, resting against the smooth rock. Unknown to him, Misty, Daisy, and Ash all wore uncomfortable countenances – something was causing them pain. Even the Pokémon seemed to register the strange feeling.

Ash closed his eyes and willed the pain away. What is this… he asked himself.

“Ash, come and check this place out!” called Tracey. “Wait, talk?  I can talk underwater!”  Ash gasped in agreement when he realized it too before swimming over, he too gasped with the same awe.

What laid before them was a massive city, homes made of stone and large towers that flashed in various colors from sources unknown to the two humans.  Technology of which they had no understanding of was before them.  From strange crafts that floated along – mysterious cubes that seemed to glow and showed multiple…whatever those were (Pictures?), to the lights all around that looked nothing like what they were used to. Truly, a modern marvel.

Ash wanted to say something but winced from the pain.  “What’s wrong,” asked Tracey.

“Something’s hurting our heads,” muttered Ash.

“Huh, strange, I don’t feel a thing.”

“The Pokémon can feel it,” said Ash, noting Marill and some passing Pokémon’s looks.  “Just what is this?”  Next to him, Totodile seemed happy but had noticeably less vigor than before.  “It’s like a sort of aura…which’d explain why I and the Sirens can feel it…”

“It’s a collected pool of negative energy,” explained Daisy.  “It’s the animosity of our brethren collected here in the city.”

“But wait,” said Tracey, “why can you, the Pokémon, and Ash feel it, but I can’t?”

“We’re telekinetic which is how we’re able to sense it.  Our emotions can become a form of energy that travels psychologically.  As for Ash…”

“It’s because I’m sensitive to aura.  Tracey, are you familiar with groups who claims to be one with nature and can sense life?”

“Well, yes.  Oh yes, I’ve heard of them, everyone has.  Wait, are you…?”

“Yes, I’m one of those, an aura user, which is how I’m able to feel what they are feeling.”

“That’s incredible, Ash!  But how come I can’t sense it if it’s so strong?”

“Normal humans can’t detect the psychic energy, even emotional ones,” explained Ash.  “It’s how I can be far closer emotionally to Pokémon more than the average human.  But what is all this angry energy here for?”

“To fight humans,” replied Daisy solemnly. “As we said, Rudy hates your kind and has gathered our brothers and sisters to his cause.”

“All this energy has one purpose,” added Misty. “To add fuel to our weapons.”

“Weapons?” Ash and Tracey paled.

It was then that trouble came.  A friend of Misty and Daisy’s was nearby and she had startling news to tell them…

OoOoO

The storm was passing at Cerulean.  Men at the harbor watched with curiosity when Paul, Alan, and Stuart arrived on their boat.

Giving the sailors reluctant grunts of acknowledgement, they set about gathering their supplies and began carrying them to the town. Alan and Stuart grumbled as they went. “Stupid Mankeys,” said Stuart. “Just look at them…”

“Ahoy, mateys,” said a random sailor.  “Came ‘ere from the storm did ye?”

“Er, y-yeah.”

“Now that’s a brave and foolish thing. Y’know-”

“It was trouble, but not that troublesome,” interrupted Paul curtly.  “It’s been a long journey and we’d like to rest and prepare our goods for market.”

“O-oh, sure thing, sailor.”  And he quickly left.

Paul ‘tsked’ as he left.  “Hurry up, you idiots, and set that thing up.  I’ll go and get information on this place to get an idea of the scale.”

“Though why we couldn’t have made our job faster and cleaner with a jet I’ll never know,” complained Stuart.

“Pathetic moron…if we used that, the humans would’ve suspected us.  Now get back to your job or I’ll push you into a Lanturn’s Thunder attack.”

Paul grumpily walked through the city.  With the rain now passed, people were coming out of their abodes.  Paul ignored them and soon found himself standing before a strange stone building. The word he registered was ‘inn’.

Dawn greeted him at the counter.  “Oh, hello!  Welcome to the Cerulean Playhouse Inn.  My name is Dawn Berlitz and I’ll be your host.  What can I d-”

“Just a room for three,” said Paul curtly.  “I can do without the pleasantries.”

“Hey!” yelled Barry, rushing from where he was to Paul’s side.  “And just who do ya think you are, buster?  For disrupting her slogan I’m gonna have to fine you!”  Paul glared and put a strong hand on Barry’s forehead.  The blond instantly paled but regained his spunk. “Oh?  Think you’re a tough guy, huh?  Arrogance against me is another fine!”

Paul was going to make this blond filth silent when something long stabbed him lightly from behind. It was this ‘Dawn’ girl who pushed a heel of a shoe into his face.  “Now you listen here,” hissed Dawn through barely contained rage. “I’ve had just about up to HERE with men problems today.  So kindly just come with me to your room.”

With must tension, the three eased from each other. Barry eyed Paul suspiciously and vice versa.  Dawn, with a stern stomp of her foot which made a loud sound against their wooden floor, lead the way.

OoOoO

Ash’s group with much speed returned to land at the lighthouse.  Pikachu had been sat waiting patiently, talking with the local Corsolas and Pidgeys when Ash and his group emerging scared them.

“Pikachu, hello!” said Ash.  He sensed the surprise and slight hostility from the local Pokémon, but he didn’t have time for them.  “Come on, we have to hurry!  There’s a Siren invasion happening!”

At the city’s market square Alan and Stuart continued their work while the citizens watched on with mild interest but uncertainty as to what was being put together.

Alan smirked a devious smirk as he pulled a piece out from the archaic wooden box.  “Now, humans…” he murmured.  “Time for you to learn what a bomb is…”

[prismatales]

An idea for Endeavor’s quirkless child maybe would be where reader gets the okay from the doctors at the hospital say Rei is stable enough to see reader even though she has red hair now? Or another interaction between Dabi and Reader would be great 👍 love your writings and can’t wait to see what you have planned!💕

This was actually a really good detail to consider, since Reader didn't really dye her hair because of what happened with Rei, but to go as unnoticed as possible in school. But I really enjoyed this, and hopefully so do you guys! 💖

Mom

Deep breaths, positive thoughts, don't drop the box.

Deep breaths, positive thoughts, don't drop the box.

Deep breaths, positive thoughts, don't drop the----

"Todo-chan?" The doctor's voice snaps you out of the anxious chanting going off inside your mind. Why were you nervous in the first place when visiting your mother at the hospital became a regular part of your routine?

Oh yeah....Because this was the first time after that incident five years ago that she'd be seeing you with red hair. You know it was completely different from last time, your mother's mental health is stable enough now, she was able to see Shoto without a problem after all....But the memories from that time still terrify you just thinking about it, the idea of going back to square one with her?

"My colleagues and I have talked it over, and I'm more than pleased to say it's alright to go see your mother as well as allow her to keep this gift of yours, based on the description we're positive it may help with her recovery"

There's confidence in each of her words, and that gentle smile of hers helps to ease the anxiety inside the pit of your stomach, a breathe of relief you didn't realize you'd been holding in escapes which send her into a small giggling fit, but she doesn't say anything else and offers to accompany you on the way to your mother's room

"Dr. Chigusa?" She glances in your direction with curiosity, this woman had been one of the people taking care of your mother since the very beginning of her treatment, her kind demeanor had quickly won over every single one of the Todoroki siblings, everyone who's met her knows that had she been there the day of the accident things would have probably gone differently...

The footsteps echoing through pristine halls are equally soothing and distressing, a seemingly endless hall keeps going and going till a certain room is eventually coming into sight.

"Yes dear?" She takes a small glance in your direction and stops walking, the way your hands grip the corners of the box tightly, she can easily perceive the insecurity and fear coming through every inch of your being, body shaking slightly once you observe that spot in the wall right besides the door, that spot where a young girl once sat with her back against the wall suffering in silence.

"...What if it happens again? I don't want to see my Mom going through that all over again"

Worry seeps from every pore in your body, heart pounding loudly against your chest it's a surprise the woman walking beside you doesn't hear a thing, panic surrounds every part of your being just by the memories of that day.

Chigusa grabs your shoulders gently, the moment her quirk activated all those feelings of doubt drifted away like traces of smoke being carried away withing soft currents of air.

"Listen (Y/N), your mother is an incredibly strong woman who's come a long way despite everything she had to endure, I promise you over my medical licence that everything is going to be alright...Do you trust me?"

Confidence radiates from each and every single one of her words, strongly enough to sway the most doubtful of hearts, even without needing to employ her quirk anymore, her eyes shining with assurance accompanied by the warm hold on your shoulders allows you to step forward to face the one thing that separates your mother from the rest of the world.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll go in first and let her know you're coming, how does that sound?" God really blessed your family when Chigusa came into your mother's life.

She goes inside the room first just like she promised, leaving you in the hall alone with the box. After a few minutes boredom takes over and you start checking out some messages with our friends. Some of them send pictures of study sessions, the girls from Shoto's class are having a spa day at the dorms complete with face masks and cucumber in their eyes, there's also a text from Bakugo and his friends, one that makes your eyelid twitch in mild annoyance.

"I guess we can't call you Omurice head anymore, uh?" They say jokingly after seeing your new profile pic.

"Have you ever seen a hedgehog covered in glitter? Cause I think you will soon" You quickly text them back.

The door opens right after you send the message and Chigusa comes out with a big smile on her face.

"You can come in now Y/N, I'll give you two some space, but remember everything...?" She goes quiet, waiting for an answer as you inhale deeply before finishing her sentence.

"Is going to be alright"

"Good!" Then she leaves, not without sending another smile in your direction.

Turning back towards the door and staring for another few seconds you take another deep breath...and finally your hands push the door open. Sunlight illuminates the whole bedroom with beautiful shades of golden light...and right in front of the window your mother's sitting with her back facing the door.

"Here goes nothing..."

"Hi Mom"

Your eyes close in panic, a part of you expecting to hear the screams all over again just like that one time carved into your memories, instead the only thing perceived is silence, slowly looking back at her most serene look is adorning her features, confusion slowly morphing into that kind smile which had only been seen a couple of times when you were less than 6 years old.

"Y/N" The smile never left her face, not even when she took a good look and finally caught sight of the one thing that terrified you in the first place, despite that she didn't stop smiling.

"It's been a while since the last time you visited, is everything okay?"

Not only did it not affect her anymore but this time she paid no mind to it, making a wave of relief flow through your body, she noticed the way your shoulders began trembling.

"Yeah..." your hand wipes away a single tear threatening to come out, mouth curving into a tiny smile before looking back at her "Everything's alright..."

That's how part of the visit went, catching up with her after being unable to visit her for the past three weeks, the answer she got was half true to avoid scaring her.

After all being kidnapped by a psychopath and thrown off a building wasn't the best way to start a conversation, right? So all she was told was how busy you had been with classes, along with this new project.

Speaking of project...

"By the way Mom" You get up from the bed to get the box you had left in the small table "I asked the doctors if I could bring you this, is something I've been working on for a while now, and some senior students from school helped me out with it"

Rei gave it a curious glance, specially when you placed the box down on the floor and pulled out a smaller baby blue metallic box with no cover, inside the box there's this white ball that looks like plastic with a few black and brown spots.

"What is it?"

You smiled at her before pressing a small button on the edge of the box, the actions makes it let out a charging noise and the small ball slowly starts to inflate until its peaking out of the top.

Rei's eyes go wide when it starts taking the shape of a mix between a Japanese bob tail cat and a marshmallow, but the surprise is not over yet once the noise finally dies down and the "cat" slowly opens its metallic black eyes and starts looking around from left to right, once it catches sight of her the small thing carefully climbs out of the box like a small kitten.

"Fuyumi told me how much you love cats, and since it's not possible to have pets in here I talked about this project with the staff" The "cat" turns to look at you with curiosity, and when it gets a nod in response the first thing it does is dart straight towards your mother to nudge her feet. Surprising her by how soft its body feels.

"I heard having a pet around can be therapeutic, so It's programmed to behave like a domestic cat and keep you company"

While you explained its function the cat was already being cradled in your mother's arms, purring softly with every stroke of her fingers on its chin, the excitement on her face couldn't be more obvious once it bopped its face against her hand, demanding more of her attention just like a real cat would.

"Do you like it?" It was obvious she loves the little guy, but you still wanted to hear her answer with eagerness.

"I love it, does he have a name?" she asks happily, but you shake your head no.

"Not really, I wanted you to name it since well, it's your new pet now"

That's all she needed to hear.

"Thank you Y/N" She hugged the cat closer to her "Thank you so much"

In the end the last thing you tell her are the instructions, how the box is actually its charging station and it needs to be re-charged every now and then, and just in case something malfunctioned the staff had a small instructions manual and your number, in case it needed any repairs.

That afternoon you left her room with a bright smile and the ghost that haunted your memories finally gone, this time for good.

Nothing could ruin that moment for you while going back to the dorms with a bounce on your feet...Not even when you ran into someone and nearly fell on the floor had it not been for this mysterious person catching you by the wrist.

"I'm really sorry about that! I should have been more careful!" your voice comes out in a nervous squeak, face full of embarassment while this guy just kept staring at you, a black hoodie covering his head and even with the sunglasses he sported the feeling of his eyes staring at you was easily noticeable.

"It's fine, just be more careful next time, you never know who you might run into" The calmness in his voice made you glad he wasn't pissed off by crashing straight into them, but before any more words could be exchanged the characteristic sound of your ringtone went off.

"I need to pick this call, sorry about that again, see you!" Fishing the phone out from the bottom of your pockets the last thing he saw was a small wave aimed towards him before you ran off, this time paying attention to the surroundings while answering the call.

"See you soon...Firefly"

@t-amajiki @undead0relived @shoobirino @bnha-ra @godtieruwu @mysticalite

[teamdoubleoh]

Rings - 00Q secret marriage AU

pt. 1/2        pt. 2/2

Q and Bond flirt and MI6 ships it. There is a betting pool.

wordcount: 2791

Many thanks to Kira for helping me figure out the ending.

007 and the Quartermaster meet.

Really, the minions should have seen it coming. So should have R and Eve Moneypenny and M and the rest of the double 0s.

Introducing 007 to the Quartermaster had been the simultaneously best and worst decision MI6 had made since the founding of the double-0 program but the meeting of the youngest Quartermaster and the oldest serving Double-0 in the history of MI6 had not only been inevitable; at that point no one had really had any idea of what they were getting into.

Their fist meeting had been witnessed only by R, who was in Q’s ear at the time, and a few minions who kept tabs on the Quartermaster via CCTV, both of which was a plain matter of security.

It had been a smooth affair. Q had been brought to the National Gallery in a standard issue vehicle and entered the building with only a brief glance at the cameras above. He had strolled around for a bit, perfectly anonymous to everyone around him.

Then he had reached the meeting point and 007 had been waiting, ready to receive his papers and equipment.

»…Always makes me feel a bit melancholy. Grand old warship being ominously hauled away to scrap… Inevitability of time, don’t you think? What do you see?«

The cameras hadn’t been able to capture the slyness of the smirk in its entirety, and neither would they catch the cynicism in 007’s voice when he answered,

»A bloody big ship. Excuse me.«

Then Bond had turned away, and it had seemed as though he really was about to leave, had it not been for the very slightest of smiles on his face.

»I’m your new Quartermaster.« Q said, still facing the painting of ›A bloody big ship‹

Bond sat back down.

»You must be joking.«

»Why? Because I’m not wearing a lab coat?«

»Because you still have spots.«

»My complexion is hardly relevant.«

»Your competence is.«

»Age is no guarantee of efficiency.«

»And youth is no guarantee of innovation.«

The whole exchange had been laced with a hint of amusement that went over the heads of the Minions, whose grainy CCTV feeds and earpieces could only pick up so much.

They didn’t catch the glistening of a pair of rings on the Mens ring fingers either.

Later all present observers would agreed that, in retrospect, this was the point from which it had gone downhill. Though ›downhill‹ was the wrong expression entirely, because the Quartermaster and 007 had caught on like a house on fire.

And so it had begun.

When Bond wasn’t on mission he hung around Q-branch and tailed Q. Sometimes he would flirt in his not-so-subtle ways or bring Q fresh cups of earl grey.

Q flirted back be either complaining endlessly about Bond’s tea or not complaining at all, depending on how busy he was.

After a week of this Q branch had opened a betting pool on when and how they’d go on a date.

When Eve first found out she was close to furious - about not being told that is - and regularly joined the Minions on breaks to discuss the latest gossip.

Once Bond had brought Q Indian takeaway after returning from a mission. The wagers rose immediately.

Then Spectre happened. Bond had gone with Madeline and the entirety of Q-Branch and all of the double-0s were ready to murder Bond and incredibly careful around Q.

Q didn’t seem to care that Bond had run off but everyone at MI6 who was at least slightly invested in the matter was secretly convinced he was just putting on a brave face.

A few weeks after Bonds disappearance Eve and R - who was a mother hen to everyone in Q-Branch - told Q that he should just forget Bond; in response Q only looked at them like they’d just told him to get a job at an Internet café and asked what they meant by that.

Eve and R retold the exchange during break and again there was a major shift in the bettings. Not that anyone was having any doubts about the Quartermaster and 007 ending up together, but the predicted time for a first date moved back considerably.

Of course Bond came back eventually, as he always did.

He even brought with him all of his equipment, most of which was intact, including the Aston Martin which sported a new set of scratches but was otherwise fully functioning. When Bond entered Q-Branch - for the first time in six months after dropping of the radar as well as everyone’s favours - Q looked up from his Laptop, smirked at Bond when he laid out the equipment carefully on his desk and said with an eerie lightness in his voice: »Thank god you didn’t ruin the car. I’d hate to rebuild it from scratch again.«

Bond returned the smile and answered in his usual flirtatious tone »Don’t get used to it. I don’t think I’ll do a mission that quiet or extensive ever again.«

Q put his head to one side, and squinted at Bond and mused, »I suppose not, no. Yet another broken record, hm 007?«

Bond considered this for a moment, but refrained from answering and instead took Q’s empty scrabble mug and ventured to the Q-Branch break room to make a new cuppa.

The minions, who had collectively held their breath since 007 had set foot in Q-Branch, exhaled slowly and carefully but didn’t refrain from retelling the situation in vivid, if not dramatic detail to Eve and the agents during lunch.  Eve later told M while delivering files.

Not a full 24 hours after Bond’s return everyone in on the situation had changed their bettings again.

By day three of 007’s - ‘unexpected’ wasn’t the right word, considering the bets had still run high during his time of absence - return, Bond had taken it onto himself to make sure the Quartermaster drank and ate properly and even organised a large couch from one of the waiting rooms to put in Q’s office. He denied that the sudden appearance of a bed substitute had anything to do with him, claiming he wouldn’t care how or where Q spent the night.

His lie would have been more believable had Bond not spent the better part of the last two days trying to convince the Quartermaster to sleep more.

Q only rolled his eyes so far back it looked painful and turned to work on a new project.

Obviously the information on Bond’s exact phrasing was passed around MI6 carefully and was thoroughly discussed during coffee break. By the end of the week everyone at MI6 was convinced Bond had stopped seeing other people altogether in an effort to get the Quartermaster to have dinner with him.

Then Bond was cleared for the field.

While he regularly lost his MI6 issued watches and guns, he always returned whatever communication device he was entrusted with. Q seemed to appreciate this, and always smiled brightly at the agent when he carefully placed the most recent earpiece or radio on Q’s desk. While the betting pool was often reset by a few days or even weeks it was only once after Bonds disappearance, that it was collectively delayed by more than five months.

Five weeks after Bond’s return to MI6, R checked into the google docs spreadsheet that the Minions had created to keep tract of the wagers, only to find that almost everyone had changed their wagers to an average of plus seven months until first date.

Confused she checked the minion group chat and, upon realising that something had happened during her off-shift, got Minion #22, Lake, to summarise why exactly there had been such a massive delay in the predicted dates.

Apparently Bond had come down to Q-Branch after spending his morning at the gym, which was not unusual. He had sported black slacks and a white shirt and the top three buttons had been undone. 

That was unusual. R didn’t think she’d seen 007 without tie ever. 

And Bond had been wearing a necklace, #22 continued, but not any necklace. There’d been a ring on it. It had been a simple gold band, fitted to someone with rather thin fingers in comparison to 007 himself.

The Minions had come to the obvious conclusion; Bond had been married and, whatever had happened to the original wearer of the ring, Bond wasn’t over it.

R contacted Eve Moneypenny.

To the dismay of all of MI6, while Bond kept flirting with Q and regularly fed him take-away, Q didn’t respond to his efforts any different from before. He ate and drank what Bond handed him, and even sometimes took a nap. Not once Q answered Bond’s offers to take him out for dinner with anything but an exasperated sigh.

R didn't get to see the fabled ring until two months later.

Bond was on a mission in Lebanon, trying to seduce a woman who knew something. Getting into the party had been ridiculously easy and within ten minutes of his arrival at the luxurious villa Bond was surrounded by pleasant music, thick red carpets and about two hundred strategically placed candles, that basked the crowd in golden light. 

Bond was currently talking to a grey haired man sporting a white suit, whose tongue had been loosened by the free champagne significantly since the beginning of the event.

When the target entered the room every one present turned to towards her, including Bond. The grey haired man seemed to read his expression all to easily - though admittedly the years as spy had made Bond a formidable actor.

The man took another champagne flute from one of the passing waiters - his fifth - and shook his head at Bond, when he turned back to him. "Oh that is an expression I have seen before." He slurred. 

Bond cocked one eyebrow. 

"That look on your face, Mr. Sterling. Forget it. She doesn't go for men like us."

"Men like us?" Bond asked with an easy smile.

The target was, according to her files, eight years older than him, and the grey haired man was older than her by a few years, so age couldn’t be the deciding factor, and neither could money, as Bond was ‘Mr. Sterling’ tonight. 

The grey-haired man sighed with all the theatrical expertise of a sixth grader. "She likes to go for married men -- Only for married men, ever since her husband died - the third one I mean." He hiccuped.

Q-branch was dead silent.

So was Bond, for a split second.

Then he turned away from his conversational partner and took a step into the crowd.

R, who was on CCTV duty for the night, could see him open his mouth to speak-

"Not a word James." Q unceremoniously cut off what ever Bond might have said. The place had excellent cameras, R found, as she watched Bond smile innocently.

"I don't know whatever you could mean, dear Quartermaster."

Q groaned and shoved up his glasses over his forehead to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Oh, grow up 007 -- Just do it."  

Bond reached in the inner pocket of his suit and pulled out a chain with a ring on it.

Judging by the reaction of the minions - a collective intact of breath that was so blatantly obvious that even Q briefly looked up from his laptop in confusion - this was the necklace Bond had been wearing a few months back.

Bond, unaware of the consequences of his actions to the betting pool, opened the chains fastener and pulled the ring off. Then he carefully placed the chain back in his pocket and slipped the ring on his left ring finger where it fit surprisingly well. He straightened his suit jacket and made his way across the room to their target.

The rest of the mission passed in a haze.

Bond seduced the woman, who was convinced that he was a married man and thus more or less openly spilled some secrets MI6 had been after for weeks -- as well as some no one had had any idea about, but they weren’t going to complain about that, were they.

The intel was transmitted via Q-branch to the recipient, 004 - R's fiancé, currently on mission to snuff out a child trafficking ring in the north of the united  States - and Bond, for once perfectly following his orders to return immediately, managed to grab the first plane to England the following morning.

What MI6 personnel found much more interesting than the gathered intel was the fact that not only was Bond apparently over his marriage - or at least had no problem using it to his advantage - but Q had apparently been well aware the spies former engagement.

Within three hours the betting pool was fully reset once again.

Bonds flight -Beirut to London, almost 2000 kilometres -  took four hours which he spent sleeping. When he arrived at Heathrow, still quite tired, he found that Q had already organised a non descriptive silver car to take him back to MI6. Yet, by the time Bond finally reached the steel doors of Q branch it was 10 am and the day shift had taken over again. The only thing he wanted now was a warm bed with a Quartermaster in it, and since Q had worked even longer than he had he woudn’t object to James taking him home. If you asked James he slept way too little anyways.

Bond put his Hand on the scanner to his left and waited till it had picked up his handprint - something Q branch apparently had an obsession with - and stepped through the opening doors.

R sighed. Deeply. She was supposed to be at home by now, enjoying the off time or sleeping, yet here she was, sitting at her desk, working on a project. And it was all Bond's fault.

Well technically.

She just wanted to be present for 007 return - usually the best time to pick up fresh gossip about the Agents budding relationship with the quartermaster. Unfortunately she now could barely keep her eyes open. Time for another coffee then. She stood, cup in hand, when the for opened and Bond strode in. Fucking finally.

As usual Bond went straight for the Quartermasters desk at the back centre of the room where Q was sitting, typing idly away on his sticker covered laptop.  

As usual Q looked up at the sound of Bonds steps on the cold concrete floor, a smile forming on his lips. Since Bond hadn’t been equipped with anything more than a com system for the mission, only carefully placed the small device on Q’s desk.

“You know 007, I might just start equipping you with only a com. At least if I don’t give you any tech, you won’t be able to loose it, hm?”

“Aw Q, you wouldn’t do that to me.” 

Q didn’t answer. 

“Would you?”

Q wasn’t listening. Even from R’s position pretty much all the way across the room it was clear that he was staring at Bonds hand. The one with the Ring on it. 

Now even James noticed that something was amiss. 

Q stood from his chair and extended his hand towards 007. “James, Hand over the Ring.” There was something in his voice that was a perfect mix of annoyance and fondness - which confused R a great deal. 

Bond liftend his hand and pulled the ring off. It must have been a little too tight because he struggled quite a bit before dropping it in Q’s outstretched hand. 

R took a step towards Q’s desk, to have a closer look. By now the attention of the entire room was in Q and 007.

Q rummaged with his free left hand through the pocket of his cardigan and pulled out a gold ring that seemed - to everyones surprise - to be the exact same Bond had just handed him, safe for the size. Bond’s ring was narrower, while Q’s looked like it would fit comfortably on the Quartermaster thumb. 

Q took the larger ring and slipped it onto Bond’s outstretched finger, where it fir perfectly. Bond smiled, not fazed in the least. 

“I was wondering why it was so tight.” 

Q scoffed. “Oh yes, it’s almost as though there was a reason they get fitted, hm?” 

Bond’s smile only widened as he picked up the smaller ring to slip it onto Q’s ring finger, apparently completely unaware of the minions shocked expressions around them. 

“Join me for dinner then, Quartermaster?”

R chocked on air, but Q only rolled his eyes and shut down his laptop, carefully placing it in his messenger bag. 

“James, for the love of god. It’s 10:12 am and I just completed a 38 hour shift.“

Bond’s smirk only grew as he offered his left arm for Q to take. “Bed it is then.”

[jane-fucking-seymour]

Legend of the Six has now been updated!

Chapter 23: Daughter of Shadow

Words: 5032 

AO3 Link

When we are little, we are taught that the darkness is scary.

Children hide from it under the comforts of pillows and blankets, men shield themselves from it with torches and lanterns, and the general public escape it through dreams and sleep. From the day we are born to the day we die, we are told to fear the Dark, and the creatures that live amongst it. It’s personified as the unknown, as the wicked, as the evil. The Dark, many claim, cannot be trusted, nor can it be utilized without misfortune.

The many, to Anne Boleyn, are considered fools.

Ever since she was a little girl - even with the scary stories of the Darkness being evil and Light being good - Anne Boleyn constantly sought for a second opinion. It’s not that she didn’t trust the stories; far from it, as she had seen what the dark could do. But she’s also seen it do wonders: it hides her from an ambush when she’s younger, it reveals foolish enemies positions that don’t know how to control their shadows, and it is a comfort, still, when late at night. After all, Anne argues, the darkness is the reason why we are in awe of the stars. That’s got to count for something, right?

As she continued down this path of Darkness, she came to befriend it in a unique way. Shadows would race to her to say hello, like old friends. The Darkness often wrapped around her like a cloak, a better shield than the ones the finest blacksmiths of the Realm could make. She extended a hand to the dark and found that it not only accepted, but embraced her as their own. And she was happier for it.

Of course, her friendship didn’t go unnoticed; it’s what started the rumors in court to begin with. Many in the court would talk ill of her friends, of the comforts she held that were so unique and against the grain that people thought it scary. She was shunned by many in the courts - all afraid of this girl that could control the darkness, calling her a Servant to it, a thrall. To many, Anne was cursed, and her regency should never had seen the light of day.

Unluckily for them (and, eventually, for her), Henry wasn’t afraid of the dark either.

Anne came to understand this as she was on the run from a particularly unyielding suitor. She hid in the shadows, in the garden, waiting for the man to pass. He hadn’t seen her, and in his drunken stupor, had started calling for her quite loudly. This resulted in unwanted attention. Anne had chuckled as the man was immediately yelled at by the King himself, thoroughly embarrassed and berated in the middle of the night by such an important figure in the Realm. She expected the guy to turn tail and run, which he did.

What she DIDNT expect was for the King himself to suddenly turn and face her. Her, hidden by the darkness that she knew so well.

He looked curious, as if struggling to see her, but seeing her all the same. He called for her to appear, to not be afraid. He wasn’t afraid of the dark either, he said. He knew she wasn’t either. Perhaps they could make a habit of finding each other in the shadows in the night, perhaps they could chat about their experiences with the Dark, perhaps they could be friends.

It didn’t take too long for Anne to realize he meant something a little more than just friends.

The marriage between Catherine of Aragon and Henry VIII was going rather swimmingly, at least according to anyone that looked: Catherine had just saved the world from evildoers in the South, and Henry had applauded his wife’s work. The Realm rejoiced in such a decisive victory over the enemy that day, and had even strengthened their allyship with Holbein in the process; a two for one victory that the history books were to celebrate for centuries, if all had gone to plan.

But, as Anne would later find out in their midnight rendezvous, he thought he could do more. His wife was, of course, a formidable person in battle, but the Darkness isn’t that scary. It got a bad reputation because of the Blessed that defeated the enemies in the South, he said. Why couldn’t his wife see that the darkness wasn’t something to banish, but to wield? 

To Anne, this made perfect sense because of the darkness that she knew, the darkness she assumed they were talking about. It resulted in resentment towards the (at the time, current) queen, especially when Henry finally gave her the chance to be the Blessed Aragon’s lady in waiting not too long afterwards. Anne didn’t see then that it was a way to groom her for the throne; instead, she simply thought he wanted someone in his corner, someone that understood the Dark for what it really was.

And she played right into his hands perfectly.

At least, for a while.

It was later, when Catherine was “killed,” when she saw Jane Seymour enter the picture, that Anne realized that maybe he wasn’t a friend of the dark like she thought he was.

For one, he never was able to hide well, not from anyone. The darkness that was easy to sink into when she was alone or with Maggie or even with Catherine and Maria was not as such when he was around; it was like the Darkness rebuked him, didn’t want him near it. Didn’t claim him as their own the way that they had claimed Anne all those years ago. In her want to be queen and in her want to have someone that understood her, she ignored it; there was just something about Henry that made her want to ignore what she thought she knew. He had that way about him, a way that made her want to believe in what he said.

So when he told her to go on the road that fateful day, she had no idea what was coming.

Maria hadn’t been acting any different than usual, for example, and it was in the middle of the day when it happened. Anne was completely unsuspecting until just before the ambush occurred; at that point, her shadow gave her away. For a while, it was the shadows that was her most trusted ally as she hid, refusing to be found until she absolutely had to. 

She survived because of the Shadows. They had given her so much. But now, it seems, they were asking something of her.

Who was she to refuse?

So she sits, in front of the woman, head bowed respectfully. The woman smiles softly at the girl in front of her, as if greeting an old friend. Anne suspects she knows more about Anne than she lets on, but it’s disrespectful to ask.

“I see that you’re ready now,” she says. “To become my champion.” She nods, standing up. “It’ll be a tough road ahead of you, if you choose to embrace my gifts.”

“You have given me so much, my lady,” Anne says quietly, respectfully. “I am but an agent of your will.”

The woman looks over at Maggie, who is still bowing with her head down. She gently lifts the girl’s head up with a soft grin.

“You won’t be needed here,” the woman says, “but I won’t deny you the opportunity to observe the trial. No, you’ve done just as much as her, and I like you almost as much, but she is the Champion for a reason.”

Maggie doesnt dare look the woman in the eye, instead nodding respectfully. “I am in awe of your graciousness, my lady,” she says, a bit of a tremble in her voice. She’s a bit nervous. 

The woman smiles and offers Maggie her hand. Maggie takes it. “You may look me in the eye, you know,” the woman says. “We’re all friends here.”

Maggie does so after a moment, and she’s a bit calmer now. This doesn’t feel as formal as she thought it was going to be, but then again, the Shadows have always been somewhat misleading. 

The woman turns back to Anne, who hasn’t moved from her spot. “My Champion,” she says, sitting down in front of Anne. “You will start your Trial immediately. Should you pass, you shall become my Keeper. Should you fail… well, the outcome depends on how you do that.” She shrugs, a hand wistfully circling in the air, forming some sort of bowl with smoking black substance in it. “Drink. And you shall begin.”

Anne nods, looking back at Maggie with a smile. “I’ll be back.”

Maggie nods, still a bit nervous. “I know you will.”

And with that, Anne takes the bowl and drinks it down.

It doesn’t taste like a lot of anything, but the texture of it is vile to say the least; it feels like something is fighting to go down into her stomach, as if it had a mind of its own. She winces at the feeling, squeezing her eyes shut as the bowl, too, dissolves into the substance and enters her.

She steadies herself, feeling how the substance affects her. Her hands, now empty, fall to her sides, and she focuses. She can feel everything else falling away, can feel herself sinking deeper and deeper and deeper…

… until she’s nowhere at all.

She’s floating in nothing.

It’s dark, and it’s comfortable. She opens her eyes and sees nothing. She floats aimlessly, like in a calm river of sorts, and smiles softly; this was nice. Not really what she expected, if she was being honest, but she’ll take what she can get.

Just as she thinks that, however, she immediately feels herself drop. Now, she’s freefalling into nothing. It’s nothing too terrible, but there seems to be something… darker… just below her now. She yelps, tenses, gets ready for the impact-

-but it never comes. Instead, she’s standing still, on the darker darkness.

She looks around, curious about what’s  happening.

“Hello?” she asks. She doesn’t hear anything - no echo, no voice returning her call. It’s getting a bit cold, too, as she walks further and further into this new darkness. The shadows from before, when she was floating, were what she was comfortable with. This… was not.

Not bad, just different, and incredibly unsettling when she wasn’t used to it. 

She continues through, unseeing, and she wonders if she’s missed something, if she’s already lost the trial. There’s no real purpose to this at the moment, she realizes, and she thinks maybe she needs to do something. Maybe she’s waiting on herself.

With a deep breath, she stops walking, extending a hand above her. She closes her eyes, takes another big breath, and summons the darkness she knows so well.

Usually, it would result in the room getting darker… but that’s not the case. Not now. Her darkness is brighter than this darkness, and the comfort she’s felt for over two decades returns to her. And now, with a smile, she listens to her goddess:

“Your trial begins now, oh contested Champion. I hope you are prepared.”

Anne nods, feeling herself being tugged away and pulled impossibly fast to an impossibly far distance in the shadows - lightyears away from where she was, but also right next door. She eventually stops where she is, and her eyes adjust to the light in front of her.

She’s got solid ground below her. She’s in a hallway. It’s dark and cold and wet. It’s clear that the only light in this area has been the blue torches that dimly illuminate the area. She’s not sure where she is, but she knows she needs to continue. 

She moves forward steadily, but as she does, she starts to hear things - a voice?

“Hello?”

Not her goddess’, either.

Her hand goes to her side, where her trusted daggers would be, but they are not there now. She instead moves to the side, using her shadows to protect and cloak herself as she pushes forward. She hears the voice again, this time coming from the end of the hallway.

Someone’s here. Someone that’s definitely real.

She turns into the room, warily at first, but then she realizes who it is and raises and eyebrow.

“Catherine?!?”

Catherine is indeed there, looking around, very confused. When she spots Anne, though, she instantly rushes over to her.

“What’s going on?” Catherine asks, frowning. “I was just headed into the town we were headed into before you left and… and now I’m here.”

“You were Claimed for a time,” says a voice, one that isn’t either of theirs. “You have been Unclaimed. But now you’re Claimed again.”

Catherine seems to recognize the voice, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “In what way?”

“The Light knows what is happening,” says the voice, reassuring in tone. “And they know why you’re here. They know I won’t keep you any longer than necessary, and they know you won’t be harmed.”

Catherine seems to relax a bit then, but she’s still a bit confused. “I don’t know why I’m here, though.”

“You’re… well, I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Anne mumbles, a bit embarrassed. “But you’re my guide.”

Catherine blinks. “Your what?”

“In the Trials of the Shadows,” Anne explains, “we get a person that can’t be seen by the Trial, but the Chosen can see and interact with them. Someone that we have a strong connection with. Someone that’s important in our life story. Someone that the Woman chooses.”

“And… she chose me?” Catherine asks, tilting her head.

“We both did, it’s kind of a mutual agreement decision sort of thing,” Anne replies. “Well, most of the time. It’s my soul choosing who it is, and the Woman consenting to manifest it- it’s a long story. Not enough time, if we want to get out of here before the Festival in a few weeks.” Anne sighs, a hand running through her hair. “What you need to know is that I need someone to guide me, to help me through the tough road ahead.” She doesn’t dare look Catherine in the eye for the next part. “It seems that both myself and my mistress are in agreement that if anyone can get me through this, it’s you.”

Catherine smiles. “Well, seeing as I’ve nothing better to do-”

But the jokes stop, suddenly, as the room around them changes.

They’re suddenly in a chamber, one that’s familiar and not at the same time. It’s clearly night, but the moon is not the moon; it’s moreso a ball of energy, as if it was made of arcanic magick rather than a celestial body.

Anne moves into the room a bit more, observing quietly.

“Isn’t this the castle?” Catherine asks quietly, looking out the nearby window. It’s a town made of shadows, but a familiar town nonetheless. “This is Henry’s castle in the Capitol… but I don’t know this room.”

Anne frowns. “Me either, at least, not yet,” she looks around and tilts her head, looking down at the nearby desk. She looks at the papers, picking some up and looking through them, just in time for Catherine to meet her there.

“Anything?” Catherine asks, tilting her head.

“Just notes about certain military movements and plans,” Anne says, continuing to look through. “These look to be from my time as queen, or at least near that time-”

They both look up, however, when they hear someone unlocking the door.

“They can’t see me, but-” Catherine starts, though Anne is already ahead of her. She instantly moves to the shadows, hiding herself. Catherine simply watches as the door opens. She cringes a bit - the person is covered with shadow, their true form unable to be seen. 

They walk towards the desk, looking through papers before eventually picking up a blank one and writing on it. They continue to write, and Anne gets a better look at the paper. She narrows her eyes and, while avoiding detection, moves towards the back of the room, farthest from the door. 

Just as she does, another person enters the room - this time, Catherine gasps.

“Maria!”

Maria can’t hear her, of course, and the scene continues without interruption. 

Maria stands in front of the shadowed figure, bowing slightly.

Both Anne and Catherine wince when the shadowed figure starts talking - their voice is cloaked in a thousand others, distorted and underwater and barely even hearable yet blaring all at once. 

Maria, however, doesn’t seem to have an issue hearing them, resulting in a one-way conversation that Catherine and Anne can hear.

“Of course, I understand,” Maria says with a nod. She looks down at the paper that is handed to her, studying it carefully. Maria sets her jaw a bit before she nods slowly. There’s a moment before she tenses, looking up at the shadowy figure, clearly angry.

“I have not forgotten the promise I made,” Maria growls. “Not to her. Catherine shall not have died in vain.”

The confliction on Maria’s face makes Catherine’s heart break. 

Maria nods, salutes, and leaves the room. As soon as the door closes, the shadowy figure suddenly snaps their attention straight to Anne.

Anne’s gasp is only for a moment, as the figure rushes her, and suddenly she’s consumed by it.

“Anne!” Catherine yells, but the world is turning again, and despite her concern, another scene is playing out.

Anne, barely on her feet, moves to hide again, but… something’s changed. Something’s starting. Anne is more tense as the next scene happens, this time with the shadowy figure and a eerie green light.

Another person arrives - a magick practitioner in the castle, Catherine assumes - and speaks:

“Once we have someone to accept the terms, necromancy will be firmly in our war arsenal,” he says, looking down at a paper. “We’ve managed to connect the dots on this fairly quickly, thanks to the research at the Heart. And because of that, we may be able to control corrupted Light and Shadows easily enough in a few years.”

“They what-?” Catherine asks, but suddenly Anne is once again attacked by a shadow, once again forced to absorb it. “Anne!” Catherine yells, moving over to the girl as she falls to her knees.

Anne is gasping for air, but is clearly furious. “I can feel it,” she growls out. “The frustration, the anger, the power… it’s all here.” She holds up her hand. “This is how it would feel. To go unchecked. To be consumed… by the rage… of the past…”

Catherine frowns. “But that’s not what the Darkness is, is it? It’s not rage, it’s not power. It’s something else, isn’t it?” It’s something Catherine doesn’t totally understand, but she gets this much; it’s very similar to her own understanding of the Light.

Anne growls out, looking down at her hands as they burn with darkness. She feels it crawling around her skin, no longer the comfortable calm that she’s used to, but with newfound purpose. Anger. Betrayal. All of it. It’s feeding into her emotions, into her magicks.

Catherine sees the trial for what it really is, just in time for the scene to change again.

They’re in a room, and now Maria is back. Catherine ignores her feelings for the time being as she hears the conversation.

“It’s done,” Maria says bitterly. “She’s dead.”

The shadowed figure turns around, says things they don’t understand, and Maria nods.

“I’ll be sure to keep this in mind,” she says quietly. “For the Realm.”

Again, the shadow figure snaps her attention to Anne… but this time, Catherine steps in, quickly shielding Anne from the figure.

Catherine yelps as she absorbs it instead… but now, her Light seems to overpower it.

For now.

“Anne,” Catherine says, a bit winded by the event. Anne, for her part, is glaring at Maria, but Catherine breaks the line of sight. “Anne. Remember. This is a trial. What are all of these things doing to you?”

“They’re…” Anne growls a bit. “They’re making me angry. Angrier than I’ve ever felt.”

“Okay, and why would they want to do that? What is happening with the Darkness you’re feeling?”

Anne focuses on it, only for a moment, before her thoughts immediately go to the Maria in front of her. She’s right there, for the taking, easily killed at this angle…

“Anne, answer me.”

She looks back at Catherine. “It’s not actually Darkness,” Anne growls out. “It’s not comforting. This energy, it enhances your darkest thoughts. Your fears. Your anger-”

Anne tries to pulse towards Maria, but Catherine quickly stops it.

“Anne, focus.” Catherine says. “You can’t let this overtake you. Focus on me: why are they showing you these things? What’s the goal?”

“To make me angry,” Anne growls, struggling in Catherine’s grasp. Maria’s so close, she could almost touch her.

“Is that all?” Catherine asks, raising an eyebrow. She’s struggling to keep Anne at bay, but she’ll do it for as long as it takes to help her.

“What the fuck do you mean, is that all, it’s-!” she starts, but then her eyes go wide. “Oh. Oh, shit, oh-”

“What?” Catherine asks, clearly confused, but then the shadowed figure appears again. Anne immediately turns her attention to it, quick to suddenly pull Catherine behind her with some unseen shadows, and instantly moves to grab the shadowed figure.

Anne narrows her eyes as the shadowed figure whips their head around to face Anne, but Anne shakes her head.

“Not this time,” she says, smirking. “It was a distraction. You were always good at those. And you’re here, because you’re my weakness. You’re the reason I can’t move on, you’re the reason I can’t grow. You, and what you stand for to me.”

She grabs a torch nearby, and this time throws it at the shadowed figure.

The shadows retreated from the form, and the true terror appeared. 

Her hair as blonde as before, blue piercing eyes now tinted with green energy as the new staff she wielded resulted in a pulsing energy that made Anne want to run. She looks on with wide eyes as the woman, over and over again, summons monstrosities, clearly attempting to overrun Anne right then and there.

Anne practically growls.

“Jane fucking Seymour.”

The figure in question certainly looked like the Keeper of Necromancy, but with one distinct difference - her eyes were not normal, but instead pulsing with darkness, with eerie energy that Anne had to look away from at the moment. She shivers at the coldness that’s so apparent she can feel it, but then a warm hand holds on her shoulder and she looks up at Catherine.

“This is the trial, then.” Catherine says, so matter-of-factly that it helps calm Anne somewhat. Anne looks up, managing to overcome her own fear of the corruption before her, and nods. Catherine nods back. “Go on, then.”

Anne moves away, towards the corruption, taking a deep breath as she does so. She suddenly pulses forward, moving past the shadowy monstrosities and immediately to Jane, but the girl dodges so fast that Anne can’t react to the counterattack. Suddenly, Anne has a knife through her stomach, though it quickly dissolves into shadows as she’s released. She falls to the floor, huffing in pain, as she practically growls at Jane, who backs up and readies herself for another onslaught.

“Direct attacks won’t work,” Catherine says.

“You think I don’t know that?” Anne asks, right as she pulses forward again. This time, instead of straight on attack Jane, she uses the shadows to dissolve into cover…

… or at least, she thought she did, right before Jane plucks her out of the darkness and once again stabs her with a dagger that fades into shadows.

Anne yelps again, and this time, she falls to her knees. She holds her abdomen, coughing up blood, before she looks down at the wound. It’s festering with corrupted darkness.

And that gives her an idea.

“What else do you have?” Catherine asks, at the woman’s side as Anne shakily stands up. Anne seems to be focused, so Catherine steps aside. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I don’t think you can take another one of those stabs.”

“Don’t worry,” Anne says. “I won’t need another chance.”

She pulses forward, straight on. Catherine’s heart drops; did Anne suddenly forget this was what she did at first?

Jane readies her dagger, and just as she thrusts it into Anne… it suddenly stops. It all stops. All the monsters, all the magicks Jane conjured. They all just… stop.

Catherine looks over to find that Anne’s eyes are not her own - they’re filled with darkness. At first, Catherine thought the girl had lost, that she was corrupted like Jane’s magicks, but when Anne suddenly thrust her hand into the sky and Jane immediately did the same thing, Catherine realized what was happening.

Of course, Catherine thought, feeling a little stupid for not realizing it before. She can control shadows!

Indeed, Anne was now controlling Jane’s movements, Jane’s actions, all of it. The darkness around them was no long being passive in the fight; Anne was forcing it to move with her, at her command, and Jane was powerless to stop it.

This, Catherine realized, was the true power of a Keeper of the Shadows. This was the potential of the Queen of Shadows.

Anne immediately pulses backwards, but Jane still can’t move. Anne lifts her hands - Jane doesn't follow this time, Anne’s holding her in place - and Anne suddenly has chains connected to Jane’s wrists. The end of the chains are in Anne’s hands, and she smirks as she suddenly slams them into the ground, making Jane fall as well. Keeping the chains in one hand, Anne uses her other one to command the shadows to clear out the monsters around them, wiping them into oblivion, before focusing back on the Jane in front of her.

With a final wince, Anne takes the energy that she could feel around the wound and harnesses it herself. Instead of it infecting her body, she now controlled it as she formed it into a spear and threw it back at Jane, cracking her heart and thrusting them all into pale moonlight that blinded the area for a second.

The corrupted dark gives way to pale moonlight, and that Jane is on her knees. She looks up and her eyes are her own. 

Anne’s blade pulses with the warm type of darkness that Anne is familiar with.

Anne looks down at the girl, and Jane looks up. She’s crying, eyes wide at the blade. She doesn’t say anything, however, as she bows her head.

“What is this?” Anne asks, but she keeps her gaze on Jane.

Catherine looks around. “Looks like the forests near the castle in the Capitol, honestly,” Catherine says. “I recognize this clearing. The bridge to the courtyard is only a few yards away.”

“And why is she giving herself over to me?” Anne asks, her hand tightening on her blade as her body stiffens.

Silence. Then, Catherine:

“I think you’ve a choice to make, Keeper of the Shadows.”

Anne continues her focus on the neck. She continues to remember. She continues to feel.

And she raises the blade and thrusts it down, hitting her mark. 

Instead of a scream, or a head rolling, the figure immediately bursts into darkness, fading into the darkness around it. There’s suddenly a stronger darkness - a Void of sorts - and Catherine and Anne are pulled into it. The darkness is suffocating for Catherine, whose light suddenly is snuffed out, but Anne seems to revel in it, like it’s a cool refreshing drink. 

When she opens her eyes again, however, she finds the Woman and Maggie standing over her.

Maggie smiles, but she’s clearly scared. “Annie?”

Anne takes a deep breath, then smiles. “I’m ok. We’re all ok.” She looks up at the Woman. “Was that satisfactory, my lady?”

“Just about what I expected,” the Woman replies. “But I think you’re ready regardless.”

Anne stands and, just as she goes to bow again, the Woman puts her hand on Anne’s heart and mind. Suddenly, Anne can feel a cool yet warm sensation coming from the hands that pressed against her, and her eyes faded into darkness for a moment before they returned to normal. She takes a deep breath and, suddenly, she feels more alive than ever.

When the Woman steps back, Anne instinctually puts a hand on her heart and head, just before she summons a shadow dagger in her hands.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Anne says. She then takes a deep breath and focuses on the energy; it forms into a darkened fireball of sorts, then a gauntlet, then an arrow. She smirks as she then puts the energy into her other hand, back into the dagger, and takes a step back into the shadows. She completely disappears then; not even Maggie could sense her.

She ends up behind the Woman, who doesn’t seem surprised to see her, but smiles. “I trust your new arsenal is to your satisfaction, my champion and my Keeper of Shadows?”

Anne’s eyes go wide at the title and she smiles widely, but she immediately shows respect, bowing deeply. “Thank you, Mistress.”

The Woman nods. “Pray you continue to do my will, though you are not bound to it. That’s not how I operate, unlike some others.”

That got Anne thinking. “Where did Catherine go?”

“The Blessed? She’s back in her body. She had some issues with a Fae, but I saved her.” The Woman smiles. “She helped my Champion in her trial, I saved her from being stolen away by the Fae. I consider us even - well, myself and her Goddess.”

Anne nods. “I’ll be sure to tell them to be careful moving forward. Thank you, my Mistress.” She looks back over at Maggie, who nods. “We need to go. The place where they are, it’s a Fae Lands. They’re going to need all the help they can get.”

Maggie nods. “After you.”

They rush off.

[oneyeartoparty]

Meeting At Long Last - Chapter 3: Setting Sail

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753607/chapters/63739450

As Lily pushed open the cabin door, she felt the rush of cold air filter through the gaps in her armour. She only removed her armour when necessary, and rarely outdoors, and so the brief feeling made brought for the nostalgia of the sun on her skin and the wind dancing through her hair as it had during her carefree days spent on Dawn Island.

Coming out of her thoughts, she observed the man in front of her. Thatch was a near spitting image of his wanted poster, right down to the pompadour hairstyle and goatee. What had changed was subtle and had come naturally with age. New wrinkles and age spots had appeared that were once not present and prominent scars had faded into nearly invisible intents in the skin. Still, his age didn’t dull his warm smile, nor remove the friendliness from his eyes. If anything, it only served to enhance his friendly demeanor, evoking the feel of wise older figure from a fairy tale that helps the hero during their quest.

“Hey Lily, I’m Thatch! Fourth Division Commander and head cook. It’s good to meet the sister Ace has talked about so often. I’ve brought you some breakfast, I figured you might be hungry after last nights events.”

Bringing his hands forward, Lily saw he held a wooden platter. Across its surface were morsels, all different, but exquisite in their way. Much of what was present she recognised, but others were strange; a neon green star with a scattering of pepper atop, a piece of blue-tinted fish and oddly what she thought resembled a cherry blossom petal.

As strange as some of the food was, the care put into making the food was evident, and she knew it had been some time since her last meal. Taking the platter in her hands, she grabbed the piece of fish. Carefully lifting the bottom of the mask, she felt a slight resistance from the straps that held it in place as she placed it in her mouth.

It was delicious, undeniably so. Even with her non-existence palette, every bite was a joy.

“This is scrumptious!”

“I’m glad you like it. I made a mix of different things, so you were bound to like something here.”

Satisfied that Lily had liked his cooking, Thatch took the opportunity to hop onto the railing, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knee before addressing her again.

“Come sit up here with me. Its more comfortable than the floor and we get a table out of it.”

“Are you sure the platter won’t fall off? I don’t want to waste it.”

“Don’t worry! The wind and sea are calm. I’d be more worried about Ace returning and inhaling it.”

Lily gave a small laugh in response. “Quite true, I’ve lost some goods meals to his blackhole-for-a-stomach.”

Handing the platter to Thatch, who placed it beside him, she joined him on the railing and grabbing another morsel. The man seemed content to wait as Lily ate before re-starting the conversation. Still, the more she ate, the more she felt energy return to her, and with it, a strange bravery that often eluded her in social situations with strangers.

“Just how much had Ace told you about us?” She asked as she grabbed another item from the platter.

“Talking about you and Luffy is one of his favourite topics. He’s told us a lot about the three of you as kids.”

“And as adults?”

“Not as much. Can’t make too many stories where you’re seas away from your family. He does make sure to check out every newspaper we get for news on you two, though. You’re not famous, but you were mentioned a few times thanks to some of the bigger bounties you’ve brought in. No front pages, but that still didn’t stop Ace from showing us.”

He pauses for a moment, undoubtedly thinking over his many conversations with her brother.

“Come to think of it, there were never any photos of you, just mentions, so Ace filled us in on your appearance.”

“I’ve changed my attire a bit since we last saw each other, but I assume he mentioned the mask?”

“Yeah matches his description too. A smiling white rabbit with a pink nose and chubby cheeks. This one not made of wood though, is it?”

“The old one became damaged during a fight with a bounty in the North Blue, so I had it replaced. This one looks the same, but its made of a special type of coloured one-way glass. It's more sturdy and comes with adjustable straps, so it's more comfortable to wear for longer periods. They even included some fabric that covers my hair and keeps it flying out during combat.”

Reaching up, she detaches the black fabric from the top edge of the mask, allowing her white hair to flow free.

“White hair for a white rabbit, it suits.”

Lily nodded in agreement as she focused on folding the fabric and placing it into a small pocket on her breast.

“Do you take it off often? Ace has never mentioned you without it on.”

GhOsT. MoNsTeR. FrEaK

His words unintentionally brought forth flashes of those she once knew. Their voices had long since faded into nothingness, but their words remained, carved into the core of her mind with serrated fingernails.

“NO!” She shouted with an abruptness that startled the man beside her.

“No… only in private.” She said in a nervous whisper, trying her best to defuse the awkward situation she had created.

I’ve ruined things again. Of course, I have. “Ok, I’ll let the other know, so they don’t bother you about it. Some of them can be nosy when it comes to new people.”

His words caught her by surprise, and when she turned to face him, she didn’t see a look of judge or rejection that had become commonplace to her. There was only an accepting smile.

“Thank you, that is incredibly kind,” her happiness coming through with every word she spoke.

He shook his head “Nonsense, it’s decent and not helping the sister of my crewmates is an absurd thought. Changing the topic to your brother, Ace is currently with Pops. Saw him get called in on his way back from his cabin, so I decided to find you. I was going to anyway since I thought you might appreciate some food.”

“Ace did warn me we might bump into each other.”

Thatch let out a light chuckle.

“I figured he would’ve, and I don’t blame him. When he first joined Hartua and me were the biggest flirts on the ship. Since he was placed in my Division at the time, he got a first-hand look at our antics. Every island we’d visit was another opportunity to find new people to spend a night with. But then…”

He looked down fondly at the easel mark on his wrist.

“You found your soulmate?”

He nodded.

“His name is Aisuru. We met when the Moby traveled to Fishman Island after a few pirate crews started a ruckus. I’d gone into a bookstore to look for new cooking books when we bumped into each other. He got such a shock from finally seeing colour he tripped over and whacked me in the face with his tail.”

As Thatch finished, he burst into laughter, and Lily followed suit. His energy was infectious, and she noticed it was easy to get caught up in the positive energy he extruded.

“I’ve taken him up to the surface a few times so he can see things with his own eyes. He loves seeing everything he’d only been able to see in painting and books. Shame we can’t travel together, but he has no desire to be a pirate and its safer for merfolk to stay on Fishman Island.” Thatch turned to face her. “Have you found your soulmate yet?”

Lily shook her head. “Not yet. The mark on my wrist hasn’t changed at all.”

“Ahh, so you’ve got a mark then?”

“Yes, it has been a black dot my entire life, I doubt that will change.”

And it shouldn’t.

Thatch gave her a reassuring pat on the back, “I know you haven’t asked, but don’t overthink it. No point worrying about this stuff, it's too all-consuming. Instead, why don’t we go check the ship?” Thatch said as he hopped off the railing, landing gracefully then smoothly tucking the now empty platter under his left arm.

Ace’s warning flickered into her mind. “A tour? I’m not so sure…”

“Please, it would be an honor to show you around.”

And so, with a nod from Lily the tour began.

    ~  

For the next hour, Thatch and Lily journeyed around the Moby Dick, exploring the ship’s prominent locations. As promised, their impromptu tour started with the galley.

Lily hadn’t doubted Thatch when he said it was massive, but her mind had still failed to picture the actual size of the room and everything in it.

The room was split down the middle by fridges, countertops, ovens, stoves and other equipment she didn’t recognise, as were the walls. There were fewer people than she expected, with most of those present were preparing ingredients for the next round of dishes. She could see potatoes being peeled, carrots sliced, and from somewhere unknown came the scent of cooking beef.

There was pride on Thatch’s face as he viewed the galley that she thought was reserved for master artisans who had spent years mastering their craft, learning every aspect they could from the mundane to the wonderful.

“Given my love of cooking, I doubt you’d be surprised to hear this is my favourite part of the ship. But I’m not one of those cooks who’d keep this place locked up tighter than a Marine Base. If you ever want a snack or to make something, you’re always welcome.”

The smile that formed on Thatch’s face was like a beam of sincerity, making it obvious he wanted her to take him up on the offer.

Their next stop was the main dining area of the ship. It was substantially smaller than the galley which perplexed Lily, given the size of the crew. The tables and chair were placed haphazardly, a clear sign that the crew would move them about as needed.

“We often feast on the deck. Even if we don’t, the crew are all on differing shifts, so we’ve never had to worry about this place filling up. Of course, you’re free to eat here anytime and just between us.”

He leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear, “The best stuff comes out late at night. That’s when we drink a little and focus on making the food more interesting.”

Unsure if she should trust food that the head chef himself labelled ‘interesting’, Lily simply nodded, which seemed to satisfied the cook.

“Alright, off to our final stop.”

~

The final leg of the tour was the longest as their destination was on the other side of the ship.

The infirmary sat toward the back of the boat, away from the where most of the crew’s activity, no doubt to give the sick and injured some much needed quiet time as they recovered.

“And this is our final stop, the infirmary. “ Thatch stopped in front of the door that precisely matched every door Lily had seen so far, excluding the red cross that sat toward the top.

Its always the doors shipwrights seem to cheap out on. No doubt this habit of theirs is going to haunt me later.

Not noticing his companion’s distraction, Thatch gripped the handle but hesitated for a moment.

“Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you don’t see the inside of this place after this visit.” As he spoke, Lily felt a protectiveness in the man’s voice.

Did I make a friend? Lily wondered.

As soon as she entered the room, Lily got the impression it was the very definition of sterile. Every surface had been cleaned to perfection. It was as if anything unclean lived in fear of entering the room, and, she thought, if this fear were to have a source, it would have to be the room’s only current occupant, excluding her and Thatch.

Marco was seated at a desk with his back to them, the sound of pen hitting paper reverberating from his direction. He hadn't acknowledged their presence, but she had no doubt he knew he now had company.

“Thatch, why am I not surprised you managed to sneak Lily away from Ace?”

“Not my fault Pops wanted to talk to Ace before he could get back from his cabin. Besides, I couldn’t leave our guest hungry, could I?” Thatch said with a chuckle.

“So, this has nothing to do with irritating Ace after he drank your sake last week?”

“Not entirely, especially now I’ve gotten to know Lily, she’s great!”

While no audible groan came from Marco, it was easy to imagine one. She felt that situations like these were a common occurrence, much to the dismay, and likely amusement of those watching.

“Good to see you currently lack patients. We all prefer it when this place is empty.” “We might have a few once we join back up with Jozu and Izu, depends how their much resistance they encounter,” Marco replied, continuing to scribble away on whatever lay in front of him.

“Might not be much, depends how much the Marines care about us laying our claim to that island. They can’t pay the Tribute, but it's close to one of their main patrol routes. S’pose it depends who is nearby when they get there.”

“Commander Thatch!”

The conversation was halted by the arrival of a scrawny man who’d burst through the door. Sweat glistened on his face and neck and his brown hair stuck to his head like it was drenched in glue.

“Pops wants to see you urgently.”

Despite his breathlessness, the man disappeared as soon as he finished speaking with Thatch moving to follow.

“Take care of Lily for me, Marco! And don’t fight her this time,” Thatch said as he closed the door behind him.

And so, with a gentle creak, her tour guide left leaving her alone with Marco. With its closing, she braced herself for the expected loneliness and anxiety to surge forward and consume her like a storm front pushed by a great wind into the path of a tiny fishing boat.

She waited. Then waited a little longer, but nothing came.

It was perplexing, but pleasantly so. An escape from the depressing normal she had long been accustom to.

“Are you feeling, ok? No cuts or other injuries from your fight with Mozo?”

Lost in her thoughts, she overlooked Marco rising from his chair and coming to stand in front of her. Now able to fully take him in, she saw he wore a long-sleeved, unbuttoned white shirt that served to displayed his muscular chest and the jolly roger tattooed across it. A few faded scars were also visible, marks earned from his decades of piracy.

He was observing her with a keen eye, looking for signs of injury or sickness, but with only her hair exposed, even his expertise was struggling to find any obvious clues.

“None, I got out without a scratch.”

A small, relieved smile appeared on his face. “Good, but if anything starts hurting you, come find me, ok? We might’ve not had the most friendly start, but I’ll look after you so long as you’re on this ship. Speaking of last night...”

He paused for a moment, considering his words before continuing.

“Lily, I need to apologies to you for what I did last night. I shouldn’t have assumed so hastily that you were a part of the attack. I deeply regret that I almost hurt you”. The sincerity of his words flowed off him and seemed to fill even the furthest reaches of the room.

She answered him without hesitation. “I accept, and please don’t feel horrible. You had good reason to act as you did.”

The grin that plastered his face was as sincere as his apology. “Alright. Maybe as a way to make up for the mistake, I could show you my favourite place on the ship? If you want to, of course.”

“Sure, lead the way.”

So, she followed, all the while bemused by why she felt comfortable with a man who had tried to fight here just hours before.

    ~  

Marco took her to the stern of the ship. It had been a silent journey, though Lily noted that her companion would often glance behind him as if checking she was still following, adjusting his pace if she was more then two steps behind him. It wasn’t an act of caution, but instead of care. He wanted to make sure he didn’t abandon her.

Maybe he’s a fast walker and doesn’t want me to lose him?

With a skill only gained from years of practice, Marco placed his hand on the railing and hoisted himself up before spinning himself around, so he faced the sea. Comfortable, he turned his head to face Lily.

“Let me help,” he held out his hand toward her, a lazy but friendly smile overtaking his face, and she felt no hesitation from within herself as she lifted her hand to take his.

The ease with which Marco lifted her made her realise just how strong he was. Given his position, it would’ve been more surprising for him to be weaker. He would need more than a powerful devil fruit to be a Commander on the crew of an Emperor.

Firmly seating herself on the railing, she let go of Marco’s hand and took in the view.

Belle Island was now in the distance. The ship hadn’t been sailing for long, as she could still make out many of the details, including the town’s harbour. But these were fading, and the sea and sky were starting the blend into one as they often did when things were calm.

There were no words shared between the two as they watched the island before them fade, but she felt they were unneeded. At this moment, merely sitting together and staring into the distance was enough to make them both content. She didn’t know how long they’d sat their together, as the only gauge was a slowly shrinking island. Eventually, though, something encouraged Marco to speak.

“Lily, I hope you’ll come to love being on this ship as much as I do.”

The comfort his words brought her warmed her chest. It was a pleasant feeling, and so she decided to embrace it and ignore the oddness of that sensation coming from someone so new.

She went to reply but paused when she heard an odd sound coming from behind them.

Lily compared the sound to a ferocious beast stampeding across an open plain as it chased its prey. But as it grew louder, she realised it wasn’t many sets of footsteps but rather just one. It didn’t take much thought to realise who it was.

“Hello you two!” Ace shouted out, blissfully unaware that his thunderous footstep had already announced his arrival.

“Hey, Ace,” Marco replied, while Lily gave Ace a small wave.

Ace gave the pair a curious look that he swiftly covered with a wide grin.

“What you guys look at up there?”

“Watching the ship set sail,” Marco said nonchalantly.

Ace craned his neck to see the view but seemed to lose interest quickly.

Suddenly, and with the grace of a drunken Sea King, Ace climbed onto the railing, squeezing his body between Lily and Marco. Lily noticed she had to put up little resistance to keep her place, but the sounds of a scuffle from beside her told her there was a miniature war for space occurring between her two companions.

Eventually, the scuffling ceased as Ace sat fully upon the railing, signalling his victory. He turned to face her with an enormous grin, his pleasure at having won evident.

“Oi Ace, you almost pushed me over the side! Marco said with an irritated tone.

“If you moved over you wouldn’t be in danger of falling, would you?”

“Me? You’re the one trying to push in. Why do you want to sit in the middle anyway? You can sit on either side of us.”

“Why does it matter Marco? I wanted to sit in the middle!”

It was a light-hearted fight, one between close friends that had no malice or hatred. If they were children, she would call it play-fighting, but as adults with two powerful devil fruit abilities, it had become what Lily would describe as a play argument.

An unseen smile graced her lips as she watched them.

It is good to see Ace has made close friends here.

She looked out into the distance once more. Belle Island was turning into a speck and was soon to fade altogether. Some seagulls had followed the ship, but even they seemed to be getting further away, their circling expanding as they became discouraged by the growing distance between the boat and the island.

The bickering beside her had simmered, replaced by the start of a plot by Ace to get back at Thatch for his ‘shenanigans’, with Marco offering suggestions on the best ways to exact revenge.

It looks like this might be fun.

[what-the-floofin]

Deal’s a deal I guess.

 (me: *trips. words spill from my pockets. There’s 2127 of them*)

 Lance had dealt long enough with living around that damn coat, his every attempt to have Keith just let him fix it turned down time and time again. Once he even managed to make the offer with no weirdness, no fumbling, no antagonising bites about it at all. Total stallion to stallion. Heart to heart. Or… something. It was damn cool, anyway.

(He’d deny having practiced a dozen times to the audience of his own reflection.)

Yet still Keith refused.

(And Lance did not sulk about it. Absolutely not.)

 But he figured it out, after weeks of peripheral listening and observation and sheer determination to see it through. Keith wouldn’t accept reasons of ‘just because’ – not even from Shiro – but he would accept trades. So, Lance targeted the easiest one he could think of and caught Keith down one of many endless halls.

He’d spar with him for a full session – no complaints! – and in turn Keith would let him put a brush to his sides. Also with no complaints, though that part had been more or less implied since Lance was abiding by a strict no-button-pushing rule at the time.

Keith had pulled an odd face as he considered the proposal - finally mumbling something like an agreement after the longest, most agonising minute Lance ever had to wait in his life - and all while refusing to look any higher than Lance’s chin.

Lance only cared about that fact that he accepted and bolted at once to collect his things.

 By the time they were making languid cool-down laps of the training deck, their sides lathered and legs shaking in the result of their sparring efforts, the giddiness of anticipation began to rise beyond the threshold of his control. It skipped his pace and littered his strides with prancing steps, kicking up waves of delight that manifested in half-restrained grins and more than once caused Keith to scowl obvious queries of why.

The instant they turned in towards the platform of the spectator stands, the single level they’d raised decked out with a box of water pouches and their discarded articles, Lance raced to his little bag and snatched it from atop his folded jacket, turning on a dime towards Keith and barely able to contain his eagerness to begin.

He was dismayed to find Keith had instead busied himself in removing the red binds from his legs, pointedly keeping his back to him and thin tail swishing quietly. Right, right, of course they wouldn’t jump straight into transition. That’s cool. At least Keith hadn’t just beelined for the exit. And they were still a little sweaty anyway, the wait would do them good.

Setting the pack on the floor Lance opted to follow suit. For it was, damn him, a good idea.

He thought himself incredibly patient as he watched Keith from the corner of his eye, strategically busying himself in removing his own blue wraps and guard pads to roll up the set, all while trying not to spend every other second tracking Keith’s languid progress. Lance found it impossible to match him he moved that slow, and yet Keith didn’t really seem to care much for winding the lengths of bind properly at all. Each looked more wadded up than decently coiled, and were dropped in a messy pile atop the half open duffel bag rather than in it. Which, if he was deliberately stalling, wasn’t what Lance expected.

Finally, Keith heaved a short sigh and tossed the last one amongst the rest, empty hands now tugging the hem of his shirt as he shifted weight across his legs, flexing them out one by one. He dallied a moment longer to take a water pouch, fiddling the straw between his fingers as his tongue flicked to wet his lips.

He was officially out of things to do. He had to be.

“Okay, fine. Get on with it,” Keith conceded, ducking at his own voice.

Lance dropped the wrap he’d wound up twice already and zipped beside Keith in a heartbeat, impatiently pacing on the spot when the mullet-head veered sideways in surprise.

“It’s about time this got handled! You’re in the hands of a professional now.” Lance beamed, immediately latching onto the fur of those scruffy withers as if he could possibly pull Keith back towards him.

“Uh… okay?”

Keith didn’t sound convinced but boy was Lance gonna prove it.

He sized up the full scope of his task, finger combing through pale hairs and flipping a hand over to find it covered in a fine dust, quickly concluding Keith had likely not seen proper care in yonks. Which was gross. And mildly horrifying. Jiminy crickets just the thought of letting himself get like that put a shiver down Lance’s spine.

He really, really wanted to tackle the remains of that old winter coat first now that he got a good look at it, for it was the clear culprit to all of his suffering. It just made the guy look so damn unkempt!

That is, until he realised the shaggy patches along his top line were as sleek and summer-fine as the rest. It certainly didn’t tuft and pull away when he clamped onto the strands and determinedly dragged them through. Lance had seen this coat uniformly short before – back in their Garrison days – so he was certain this was something new and it raised a whole plethora of questions that simplified to what the bloody hell. He stopped pulling when sturdy muscle flickered irritation beneath his attention. Keith gave a terse little grunt, turning just enough to glare from the corner of his eye.

“Pinching wasn’t the deal.”

“Hydration test,” Lance covered smoothly, straightening as he set both hands against the small cape of weirdly shaggy coat with a quick yes-all-good-here pat.

Keith just looked outright puzzled then, swerving his softly knitted frown from the water pouch in hand and back again.

“But I’m drinking. Right now.”

Shit, he was. Uh.

“Yeah- but uh, maybe it wouldn’t be enough! Those capri-suns are ridiculously tiny. Sheesh, whatever, okay, stay still.” Hands still braced over Keith’s spine Lance backpedalled the short step to reach his small pack. He hooked it with a back hoof, dragging it forward with enough force to flick it up and keep the strap over his foot. Despite the pendulum swinging it stayed put, allowing Lance the smug satisfaction of success as he twisted to meet his outstretched leg. Cradling the bag in the crook of his arm he dug through its contents, setting at least three different brushes atop the width of golden hindquarters before letting it thud back by his feet and pushing it aside. He cracked his knuckles and plucked up the round comb first.

The desire to chatter was a consistent tremble on his tongue as he worked the quick tight circles, but he wanted to play this cautiously. Safe-like. It had taken long enough to even get to this stage, and Keith… like, hated talk. And if he really hated it, he’d probably leave, deal or no deal, no hesitation about it. They agreed to grooming, nothing more nothing less. So! Lance was fully capable of not talking. Absolutely. For sure. Wouldn’t say a word. Easy peasy.

Instead he worked studiously to raise every bit of loose hair out of the light coat until Keith looked like a fuzzy dust bunny from withers to tail, every inch of fur rumpled up in every conceivable direction. The sheer volume he dislodged was appalling, really. Stars, how could the guy not be itching out of his skin running around like this.

Well, at least Keith wasn’t too much of a squirmer. He was tense and kind of twitchy, rocking away from the occasional sweep (ticklish, maybe?) and only once reflexively tail whipping him in the face, but otherwise Keith remained in reach. By comparison, trying to get this much work done with his niece and nephew was a riot. Lance missed this though, achingly so, for it had been such an integral part to his family routine. A deep-chested sigh suddenly rumbled beneath his hands and Keith shifted just enough to drop a third empty water pouch atop the raised seating. Third. Had that much time gone by in dead silence?

Surprisingly, Lance hadn’t found it all that unsettling. Huh.

He took up the broader brush then, running his palm against the stiff bristles and humming his satisfaction before setting into round two. He spent his time mulling over the relative silence, curious of the weird taste it carried and his uncertainty in what to make of it, and fastidiously focused on sentencing every discarded strand to flutter to the floor or tangle in the brush, every long sweep carefully following the grain. Glancing down as he crossed his hooves and side-stepped away from one very (and proudly, he could say) tidy looking shoulder, he could’ve smirked at the pale cloud collecting around the mullet-head’s feet.

It wasn’t until he’d worked down half the count of Keith’s ribs – still too prominent, did he even eat – that Lance noticed, and could only wonder when it changed. Keith had settled back, hip tilted and hind leg loosely bent, resting the tip of his hoof on the ground. Lance followed the dark line of his back then, careful to maintain all nonchalance as he noted how Keith’s forelegs compensated and his upper shoulders had taken on the gentle slope of a dozing lean.

Lance couldn’t see his face, but he was pretty sure Keith wasn’t looking anywhere but the back of his eyelids.

It filled him with a warmth that began in his belly and rapidly swelled up in his chest.

Hell yeah, he was great at pampering, and if he could get Keith of all people to relax like this then clearly he was a pamper god. It was all the proof Lance needed.

The feeling followed him the rest of the way through, chasing his palms and tingling in his wrists through every flick until Keith was – successfully and completely – brushed down. Truly, a marvel of his efforts. Lance was particularly proud of the delicate shine he managed to buff into the sandy gold, and could only imagine how much more it might show with a proper conditioned scrub.

He didn’t want to finish though. Not quite yet. So, sizing up his chances… he started over, running the soft brush in continuous gentle sweeps, too aware that any one of them could stir Keith and break the airy spell settled over them. Now and then Keith’s head drooped, the dark curls still drawn back in a ponytail bobbing on the return.

Lance saw the eventual dip too far that woke him – running a tiny jolt down the lean back that finished in an abrupt flick of tail – and guiltily whipped his hands away from their prolonged attentions. He stepped back as Keith twisted to study his work with a long, unreadable silence.  

“Huh.”

That was it? Huh? Lance’s scowl vanished the moment Keith turned to him though, the smile on that face small and meagre but more than something fleeting. Lance found himself mirroring it right back in a heartbeat, staring as Keith finally moved off to pull on his jacket, and watching still while he fixed both cuffs and tugged the collar straight.

“Um, thanks.” Keith added, rushed and clumsy as if he’d just clicked to what Lance was waiting for. Lance huffed his amusement, hurrying at once to pack his things and stuff both arms into his own jacket, intending a quick exit himself now he’d gotten all he wanted. He didn’t put it past the mullet to suddenly decide locking him in here would be adequate payback.

Yet Keith remained a statue in his peripheral, duffel bag clutched in hand but held low between his forelegs. He swayed only once as if undecided in his departure.

“You should talk next time.”

“Next time?” Lance swung around, a bold smirk covering the simultaneous surprise and excitement of the prospect. He had expected a lot more than that to get here again.

Keith flushed at once, visibly scrambling.

“I mean, if that’s okay? After tr- the same deal. If you want- because you don’t uh… have.. to.” He scrunched his face and almost hid behind a hand, fingers curling against the air as he paused just long enough to suck down a breath and let it go again.

“Ugh,” he continued elegantly, hand dropping with a thwap against his side, “what I’m saying is- this was nice. But you should talk. It’s weird when you just… don’t.”

Lance was positively beaming, even brighter than the solar flare they once passed near Sh'gal.

“Sure. Next time.”

[butterfly-winx]

its probably the helia stan in me but id love to read an origin story! idk if youre planning one for all of them but i really like your worldbuilding so id read them! and i know others would too! 💞 (also that fairy sketch was beautiful and if youre planning on it id love to hear more about him 👀)

Aahh ugh, I don’t actually have a lot fleshed out for Cyanox, except that he is the Guardian of Prometia and neutral to a fault. And also unintentionally the reason for why/how Layla  gained the ability to modify Sirenix into Crystal Sirenix to adapt to cold and high pressure environments. 

I am far too disorganised to make one collection post for the backgrounds of all characters I messed with, so I guess, here goes nothing. *cracks knuckles* Buckle in for the ride! (content warning for death and lethal illnesses)

Helia was born on Lynphea in a middle sized settlement in the moderate-warm Eastern Forests of Lynphea. I talk about the zones, culture and dangers of Lynphea here, so I don’t want to repeat myself too much, but Helia’s village was much closer to the borders of the Death Zone the virus has claimed for itself than what would have been advisable. Back then, they thought  Viaj would exhaust the surrounding natural resources and its people would move on long before the spread of the virus would become a danger to them. Oh how wrong they were. All it took was the change of the wind one summer.

Helia had been only five and then some and the world was still too vivid in his eyes, lights filtering through leaves a spectacle every day he accompanied one of his caretakers on a simple errand. He was the one who found the earliest warning sign, a fungal growth on a long leaf of gras that was the manifestation of the plague befalling its plant hosts. Not quite comprehending what that meant in his young age, Helia struggled for a long time with guilt about the terror his discovery brought, wishing he would have never played in the prairie. Like that would have avoided anything.

The inhabitants of Viaj actually gained a head start through his discovery though that potentially spared other communities, however it couldn’t help theirs. They quarantined immediately, drew up a magic barrier to protect everyone from the airborne spores that carry the virus from plants to humans. But doing so they gave up hunting and gathering and were entirely reliant on the rations the other communities would send with the quarantine workers. Though even those trickled to a stop when the first person fell sick with the cough and the tell-tale black spots formed on their mucous membrane. People saw no use in wasting resources on people who were damned to die. The best they could do now was limit travel to the edge of the Eastern Forest and set more scientists on recalculating the projected spread of the virus.

Lynpheans practice a philosophy of “live and let die” not hanging onto things beyond their lifespan, so this was seen as neither cruel or unusual, but show me one person who is truly prepared to die such a horrific, slow death in order to upkeep the natural order. The people of Viaj didn’t want to die, and they certainly didn’t deserve to die. But people fell like flies, until about three months later only Helia, Naoqi, the last adult, and Tsilla, the very last baby born in midst of all that, were alive. Naoqi cared for Helia and the baby as best as he could and in doing so became a replacement parental figure in Helia’s eyes. He did everything he could to make the horrible experience slightly lighter to bear for the children, but when the magic barrier keeping the wind away fell, there was little he could have done to stave off the inevitable. 

Helia was left alone, with a not even five moth old baby and no way of feeding himself or the baby. With nothing else left, he braved the forest and looked for the quarantine workers who were no doubt overseeing the area, which marked the last time Helia ever walked in the forests of his home. The quarantine workers were more than surprised by the tenacious boy with a baby in his arms and finding out he was still alive after what they thought was final exhaustion has set in. 

The next thing after that that Helia actually remembers is waking up on Magics with Saladin greeting him, introducing himself as a distant relative. The truth was a lot more complicated than that. The quarantine workers have taken Helia to the nearest hospital to treat him for the effects of starvation, because miraculously, the disease had still not taken hold of him after five months of exposure. Hermetically locked in a wing of the hospital, he was the most prised and most dangerous person and study artefact on the whole planet. His comatose slumber was watched from behind plexi glas and every then available humoral test was run on him to find out why he of all people had proved to be immune. If he was immune at all.

Meanwhile Saladin arrived on planet as he heard the news of the demise of his hometown, of his family. Even back then he had not been the pride of the planet and his relationship with his family had been strained because of the wars he had chosen to be involved in. All of that didn’t matter the instant lives were on the line and Saladin wanted nothing more than one last exchange of letters he would never get to make everything alright again. No power in the world would ever grant him that, but having powerful friends in the right circles granted him something else. Information, that a young Viaj boy was still alive in the Epidemiology Research Centre. He may be the future, the solution to all of their problems with a  DNA hiding the secrets to immunity. Saladin immediately inquired, dug deeper demanding to see the boy, but the Council denied him visitation rights. He had to strike an underhanded deal with the co-leader of the research project under a false name to find out Helia wasn’t even awake, but held in a magically induced coma for observational purposes. The scientist talked on and on about the possibilities and what they would do after they go the genes needed but Saladin blew up at that point. How dare they treat this boy like an object, like his loss wouldn’t be felt by anyone, should one of the procedures go wrong. Like all his life could hold from now on was an ultimate sacrifice for the benefit of the many. He wouldn’t even be able to comprehend that if told. With Saladin blowing a fuse, the research centre blew up too and he fled the planet that night with an unconscious Helia in his arms. 

So what felt like a night of knocked-in-the-head-by-a-horse sleep to Helia was actually close to four weeks in real world time. He has no concrete memory of what Saladin saved him from, but enough peripheral perception of what transpired planetside to make sense of the ramifications. Technically, Helia’s DNA is public property of the Lynphea Council, and technically both him and Saladin have an arrest warrant hanging over their head for the destruction and property damage caused. If Helia were to ever set foot on Lynphea again (or even go to a country that has an extradition treaty with them) he would be taken back to the Research Centre to be dissected to the smallest molecules until he yielded answers. 

While Helia was able to grow up in Magics in relative safety, the virus was still wreaking damage on Lynphea. Saladin (and to a lesser extent Helia) made the incredibly difficult decision to reject the experimentation on Helia and thus deny the population of their home a potential treatment to an otherwise lethal infection. It is an incredibly heavy burden and no day passes that they don’t question the rightness of their choice.

Helia can certainly appreciate the moral conflict now, but as a child he was much more difficult to manage. The switch from a huge nurturing family to one primary carer to rely on was harsh on Helia, who was already traumatised and needing  love and affection. Saladin did the best he could, but running a school and otherwise being a Universe-wide known hero didn’t help. After they grew close on the tail end of Helia’s childhood, they explosively drew apart during his tweens, Helia not able or reluctant to understand the restrictions Saladin placed on his life.

First, he was unwilling to share as much about Lynphean culture and way of life as Helia wished to know, saying that he wouldn’t be able to apply it there on Magics anyway. The deeper reason for that is more likely buried in his resentment for Lynphea rejecting him as harshly as they did after he helped save the Universe from the Ancestresses, but Helia of course knew nothing of that. Then when he moved over to adapting to life on Magics “in the Magics” way, he begged to be taught magic for which he had developed a budding talent. Saladin refused again for related trauma reasons. He didn’t want Helia to wield a power that could potentially make him a weapon in someone else’s crusade. Being his only personal student would only paint a target on Helia’s back. 

Helia was having none of that, fiercely objecting to the treatment. He had his own trauma to deal with. Like death by illness. (People falling ill was a lasting trigger he has been continuously working to overcome, but the first time Saladin came home with a cough Helia immediately worked himself into a panic attack so severe he couldn’t stop vomiting and had to be taken into a hospital himself. ) He shouldn’t have to shoulder the repercussions of Saladin’s problems too! 

People who say old teens and their wilfulness are hard to deal with, haven’t met twelve year old Helia yet. To think he actually mellowed out by the time he hit Red Fountain. In any case, Helia and Saladin weren’t really speaking civilly with each other anymore by the time Helia met Krystal. (More on her side of things here) Krystal, ten and absolutely blind to seeing obstacles, offered Helia her books on basic witchcraft and with that the opportunity to take his magic learning into his own hands. After all, sorcery required a lot of detailed instruction, but witchcraft was available to any odd fool who could set up a passable reaction equation. It took half a year of trials and encouragement for his efforts to yield a result and for Krystal and Helia’s friendship to bloom. It took Saladin much longer than that to catch on to Helia’s secret tinkering. The old man should have suspected something to be up after their disagreements magically disappeared after Helia and Krystal met twice. The aftermath was ugly and lead to Helia and Krystal reluctantly parting ways. 

Helia was inconsolable an dedicated a large part of his life to making it as difficult for Saladin as possible. His grades dropped, his art got angry and choppy and he had to be escorted home by peace keepers for having snuck into places he shouldn’t have been in. Year fourteen and fifteen of Helia’s life have been by far the most difficult to deal with with no improvement in sight. Under pressure from his school and Saladin to choose a path for higher education after his year nine exams, Helia thought it would be most spiteful to chose...nothing. He would simply stop going to school at 15 years of age and just become whatever. Maybe a full-time artist or a busker. “Hah, that’ll show Saladin!”- he thought, but he severely miscalculated.

Saladin had often threatened with making Helia enrol in his school if he didn’t behave and Helia never though he would make good on his words until he was dropped off at the main entrance with all his bags like the other freshmen filtering in through the gates. Being the headmaster, Saladin allowed Helia some liberties, trying to demonstrate to him that he shouldn’t see this as a punishment, but as an opportunity to further his life. Cue Helia’s biggest pièce de resistance, showing just how much he didn’t think so. As mentioned a few asks ago, he was given the liberty to chose where he lived and which team he chose, but not like that goddamit! He took shameless advantage of the loose wording Saladin used and hopped between rooms and teams completely ignoring conventions. He was the bane of the school, found on the roof, in supply closets and in the middle of hallways. Teams feared him, because they knew if Helia was assigned to them they might as well have been one person short, his flaky nature making it hard for them to work with him. Codatorta wrote as many warnings for Helia in that one year as he did in his whole career before that. Students at Red Fountain tended to be disciplined and dedicated to becoming Specialists, but Helia was the absolute antithesis to them. At the end of the year no amount of Saladin’s half-hearted excuses could save Helia from the overwhelming force of the teaching staff getting him sacked. Not that Helia minded, though. It was exactly what he wanted.

Saladin more or less gave up on him then. If he wanted to be on his own then fine. Saladin would help him with finding an own apartment and give him his first moth of rent, but after that Helia could go and find himself a purpose in the world alone. Fine. Fine. Alright! 

It was not alright at all, but it was buried under a very thick layer of “I’ll show ya” which made Helia want to live his best liberal artist life. He enjoyed creating as much art as he wanted, but he craved social contact and being engaged in something with a common goal, so he started getting involved with local pacifist groups. He had always preached a path of non-violence, which was about the only thing that had been ingrained in him from his Lynphean upbringing. There he started to expand his horizon beyond what his gut feeling taught him about pacifism and got into reading theory seriously. He was surprised how many of those books shared around had originally belonged to the Red Fountain library and even more so that they have ben written by the founders of the Red Fountain Cavalry. And that was when Helia bust down Saladin’s office door.

“All of this theory was in the school’s library the whole time!!?? And all everyone was ever talking about was warfare!! Why was I never told the best pacifist philosophers of the century were all Red Fountain members???” “You never showed up to any of the philosophy lectures! How am I to blame?” A deep breath from Helia, re-evaluating all of his 17 years of life choices. “Dada Saladin, you have to let me back into your school please.” 

And Saladin refused. To let him back without repercussions that is. Helia had to prove that he took his education seriously and was ready to commit by taking the entrance exam like everybody else to earn his place at the institute. He scraped the bottom of the scoreboard with his first results, but took the first year foundation course with a mile long stride. He was allowed to skip quite a few modules and ended up in the same year as the protag specialist boys with quite a reputation to his name. In the process of reacquainting himself with the school and its philosophy, he learned humility, respect, and when to keep his head down and mouth shut. The upperclassmen from his original year group barely believed he was supposedly the same person they got to know as an absolute menace . There are many rumours about twin brothers, brainwashing and Saladin’s terrifying magic might turning him into this new person.

Helia has come an extremely long way becoming the well-tempered and balanced person known from the show’s timeline. It is almost as if he compressed a lifetime of angst into three years, thus min-maxing his character development coming out more adult in the end at 18 years old than many people at 30. He lived through a lot of things and it shows in how he behaves and what he cares about. He is a passable fighter, but his main aim is always to protect and to avoid conflict if possible. He is a trained negotiator for that purpose and prefers to act as tactical support for his team. It all changes however once Riven and Sky both decide to quit the team leaving Helia, Brandon and Timmy with a very difficult decision on how to go on after that.

(Aand we have arrived at present day for my AU timeline with this. I hope you made it this far, I‘ve never written this much for a tumblr post before)

[mrslittletall]

Title: Dragonkin Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein/Nameless King Word Count: 2.436 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20710400

Summary: Anor Londo's dragon slayer has a rather big secret. A secret that he has to hide every night where there is no moon in the sky. But what would happen if one day someone would see him?

Ornstein hurried to the usual place.

It was almost sundown. And today was the moonless night. Ornstein had intended to head out two hours ago, but this day his silver knights had been very demanding and bombarded him with questions until it was almost too late.

...Maybe they had started to ask themselves why their captain always vanished in the night where there was no moon in the sky.

Ornstein usually told the others, his silver knights, the other knights of Gwyn, even his master, that it was for meditation purposes. And that he wished to not be distracted while meditating.

In fact, Ornstein just feared to be seen by anyone when it happened.

He had finally reached the outer skirts of Anor Londo and with a quick glance he determined that nobody was around like usual. Ornstein worked quickly on removing his armour, neatly stacking it together. He then removed his clothes and put them alongside the armour into a bag he had brought along.

As soon as he had finished undressed, which wasn't a moment to soon, the process began.

By the gods, this did HURT every single time he experienced it. He groaned as bones shifted and muscles stretched into a form that was much larger than his usual one. A nuzzle resembling a beak formed, filled with razor sharp teeth, his arms changed into feathered wings, his nails grew longer and longer until they were claws, a tail grew and spiral horns broke through his skull.

The moment he was finished, there wasn't a knight standing there anymore, but a mighty drake from a blue colour, quietly shrieking, trying to shake off the pain from the transformation.

Ornstein picked up the bag with his clothes and armour in it with his right foot and spread the wings to fly away for the night, waiting it out on some mountaintop as usual, as he heard a voice and froze in place.

“Ornstein?”

He had been seen. And while this was bad already, what made it even worse, this was the voice of the master.

One of the most renowned dragon slayers of Anor Londo had seen him, one of the most famous dragon slayers and his student change in the very being they hunted.

Ornstein shrieked in terror and jumped off the cliff, staggering in the air before remembering to flap his wings to gain height.

“Ornstein, wait.”, the master called and before Ornstein could put a distance between them, he jumped on his back.

Oh damn, this wasn't good. Without thinking Ornstein rolled over in an attempt to shake the master off his back, but when he easily grabbed on his scales and climbed back up Ornstein realized, that the master knew all the tricks of a dragon trying to get rid of a rider on his back. He was done for. The master would be easily able to slay him.

He screeched desperately and flew faster, trying to pitch the master off his back with an erratic flight pattern, something he only could consider a fruitless attempt.

“Ornstein, calm down! I am not here to hurt you!”, the master screamed against the rustle of the wind.

...What? Ornstein's draconic eyes moved to look at the master on his back and...

...he hadn't brought his weapon with him.

Instead, he desperately tried to hold on to Ornstein.

Ornstein took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down and nearly spit fire instead. As he swallowed the embers that already had reached his throat, he could spot the forest around Anor Londo underneath them. The only person they would probably find there at this time of night was Artorias and Ornstein was pretty sure the wolf knight had stayed in the cathedral for today.

Ornstein headed for a clearing and landed with a loud thud where the master finally slid off him, looking rather shaken.

“...You put me through quite a wild ride.”, he grinned, observing Ornstein, walking around him, taking in the whole view. Ornstein felt like curling himself in and he unwittingly complied by tucking his wings in and curling his tail around his feet.

“Why are you hiding yourself? You are... beautiful.”, the master said. “So this is why you never were around on the nights of the new moon? Can you talk in this form?”

Ornstein opened his mouth: ”I can.”, he screeched. ”In the dragon tongue.”

“I can barely understand a thing you say.”, the master laughed. “I guess questions have to wait for later.”

Ornstein had to admit he was confused. He had never let someone see this form. He had hid himself as a dragon slayer, because who in their right mind would expect a dragonkin to be a dragon slayer? As long as he would vanish at the moonless nights and let nobody see him, he was safe.

And now, the master had seen him. One of the best dragon slayers in Anor Londo, his idol and also... his crush. Ornstein had never expected to ever enter a relationship with him. He was a prince, he was a mere knight. And a drake for twelve nights of the year. Ornstein had been content with watching the master at a distance, only being able to dream about them being together, but now...

...now the master was here, having seen his most intimate secret and he even had said that he was beautiful.

Unconfidently Ornstein folded out his wings, bowing down for the master to take a closer look.

“Are these feathers at your wings?”, the master asked, stroking through them. Ornstein gasped. It had been the first time that someone had touched his wings and that had felt incredible.

“...Have I hurt you?”, the master asked, concern in his voice, but a sense of wonder in his eyes.

”No.”, Ornstein answered with a coo, remembering that the master wouldn't understand him and shook his large head.

“I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. May I touch you?”, the master asked.

Ornstein answered by lowering his head, giving the master a huff of approval. The master raised a hand to trail it around one of Ornstein's horns first, a sensation that he could barely feel, his horns were like fingernails, but then his hand settled on Ornstein's forehead, gently stroking the spot between his eyes. Ornstein involuntarily started to purr at this motion and closed his eyes.

“You feel like a big cat.”, the master teased. “No wonder that you chose a lion for your armour.”

The both of them stayed silent like this for a while until the master stopped stroking him and asked: “Ornstein... would you let me ride on you? Without trying to pitch me off?”

Ornstein squeaked at this words. He only had done this because he had thought he had been done for. Never had the thought the master would be so fascinated about his drake form, that he would jump on it without even taking his weapon with him.

Ornstein bent down, lying his long neck on the ground to let the master mount him.

”Hold tight.”, he growled as she spread his wings and flew up in the air, much more gracefully than before. He couldn't feel it, but he was aware that the master was holding onto his horns.

Ornstein, as a dragon slayer himself, knew perfectly which locations to avoid being seen and so the two of them glided over the forest away from Anor Londo to a mountain that was known as Arch Dragon Peak. A place were dragon worship was still actually practised. Ornstein sometimes landed there in his drake form, knowing that the people there wouldn't harm him, but with the rider on his back, who was by poor coincidence not only the heir of sunlight but a dragon slayer himself, he didn't dare to land. Instead, he soared around the mountain.

“How long did it take you to be able to fly like that?”, the master said. From the corner of his eyes Ornstein could see how fascinated he was, he grinned like a little boy who just got the best birthday present of all time.

Ornstein flew farther and quicker as he realized that the master was perfectly holding himself onto him. He sometimes growled or shrieked to turn the attention of the master at some of his favourite views and one time the master asked him if he could spit fire which Ornstein happily demonstrated, earning some applause from the master.

The both of them soared through the sky almost the whole night until Ornstein could see how the morning sun glistened. Gasping, he quickly headed back to the forest, to the clearing where they had landed. He hadn't even noticed how the hours had passed as Ornstein had shown the master all the places he loved to look at from up there.

As they landed, the master hopped off his back at the transformation took place. Just like turning into a drake, turning back into his divine form hurt just as much and was accompanied by the cracks of shifting bones and muscles. After he finished, Ornstein stood there, heavily panting, his legs giving out under him.

Two strong arms caught him and Ornstein's green eyes stared in two hazel ones and a face that had a slight blush on it.

“...Is this normal?”, the master asked and Ornstein realized that he was butt naked at the moment. His own face turned red as his hair and he jumped out off the master's arms and stammered: “...I.. I just don't.. don't want to buy new clothes every time.. I.., uh, ...transform.”

“How about you get dressed?”, the master had picked up Ornstein's back and tossed it to him, which the knight caught.

“Yes..., thank you.”, Ornstein said and went behind a tree to put on some clothes, which probably had been unnecessary, because the master had already seen him in his naked glory.

As he came back, the master sat on a tree stump, looking at Ornstein with a stern look: “We need to talk.”

Ornstein winced, simply murmuring a tiny: “...sorry...”

“We were agreeing to not have secrets from each other. This... is a pretty big secret.”

Ornstein averted his gaze and stared at a particular interesting leaf on the ground.

“I was afraid.”, he admitted. “I thought if this would be known I wouldn't be able to continue living in Anor Londo anymore. Or... worse.”

“You were thinking that I wouldn't think twice to slay you, right?”

Ornstein nodded, face flushing red, even redder than before. How could he have even assumed from his master to be such kind of monster? He, who even showed compassion and respect for the slain dragons?

“It's fine. I probably would have reacted just like you in your place. And I have to admit, I haven't been honest to you too.”

“What?”, Ornstein looked up. The master obviously wasn't a dragonkin or he would have been forced to transform in the night, so... what could this secret of his be?

“Later. For now, let me ask a few questions.”, the master came closer to Ornstein, gently led him to the stump he was sitting on and seated him down before sitting down next to him.

“How long have you been able to turn into a drake?”

“I was 11 when it first happened.”, Ornstein replied. “I was probably the most confused about it. And I was a lot smaller back then. I think I was hiding in a cave in the forest until I turned back... without my clothes. To be honest, the matron of the orphanage knows about my secret. I had to eventually tell her to explain why I was gone every moonless knight. She promised to never tell anyone.”

“You must have looked adorable as a little drake.”, the master said, a dreamy look at his face. “Now, for the more burning question... Why did you decide to join my father's army when you are a dragonkin yourself?”

Ornstein's face felt like burning, being so close to the master. “...Because who would search a dragonkin in an army of dragon slayers...”, he said. “I did it to protect myself... and also...” Ornstein took a deep breath. “Seeing what some dragons did to innocent villages made me feel ashamed to be a part of them...”

“You shouldn't. What they did doesn't have anything to do with who you are.”, the master laid an arm on Ornstein's shoulder which made the dragon slayer flinch from the sudden touch. The master pulled his hand away like if he had burnt himself.

“Oh sorry, I should have asked for your consent first.”

“...It's fine...”, Ornstein replied. “I was just not... expecting this.” Ornstein took a few deep breathes as the master laid his hand back on his shoulder, clearly it had been meant in a reassuring matter.

“...But why haven't you tried to kill me?”, Ornstein asked. “You saw me transform. After all, it could have been that I had been a spy for them all along.”

“Ornstein, if that would have been the case, you wouldn't have tried to fly away but would have tried to roast me on sight.”, the master answered with a chuckle. “Besides, I trust you. There wasn't any reason for me to not trust you after all you have done for Anor Londo. I promise you, your secret is safe with me.”

He rubbed a few circles in Ornstein's shoulder. “And to be honest, I would like to join you on your transformation nights, if you allow. Riding on a drake that didn't try to kill me has been one of the most awesome feelings in the world.”

Ornstein couldn't help but grin about the master's words. It felt truly good. Having someone to share this secret with. Someone who was so excited about it. Who truly accepted his true self.

Ornstein suddenly remembered what the master had said earlier. That Ornstein hadn't been the only one who had his secrets.

“Master... now that you know my secret, what is yours?”

The master came closer and bowed down to whisper in Ornstein's ear.

And what he heard, nearly made him faint.

“Even before I knew that you could turn into a drake... I was head over heels for you.”

And as the master's face came closer to pull him into a kiss Ornstein didn't flinch anymore. (Author's note: So, I had this idea for Ornstein being some kind of werdragon and that spawned this oneshot. Ornstein turns into the King of Storms, if it isn't obvious. I hope you enjoyed the story and if you liked it, consider leaving me a comment. Thank you very much!)

[skylanders-after-the-end]

True Self

Several months have passed since Cynder’s critical wing injury and the dragon has spent them all at the Academy hospital. Now, she was finally allowed to leave, but without the ability to fly anymore. The door to her room was open and she was free to go whenever she wanted, but the Skylander couldn’t get herself out of bed. A life without flying, unimaginable. She asked for every possible option, but all of them had a risk of failing her wings during flight. Cynder looked outside of the window, birds glided elegantly through the sky. The Undead Skylander sighed before turning her head to the door again, where she spotted Whirlwind passing by. She thought about the unicorn dragon for a moment, until it sparked an idea.

“Whirlwind!” Cynder called after the head of the hospital.

Whirlwind stopped and looked inside. She entered and stood in the middle of her patient’s room. “Do you need anything, Cynder?” The Air Skylander was normally quite friendly and open, but as soon as she faced Cynder she looked like any doctor that doesn’t truly care for their patient’s well-being.

After seeing the look on her face, Cynder wasn’t sure anymore if talking to Whirlwind was a good idea, but it was her last hope. “I know you told me that there is nothing you can do about my wing, and I don’t want to bother you anymore.” Whirlwind didn’t blink an eye and neutrally stared at Cynder who hesitated to continue. “But I know what your horn is capable of. Maybe you could-”

“I’m sorry Cynder, but you know very well that I only use my powers in lethal emergencies.” Whirlwind was known for her healing abilities that she could perform with the rainbow magic from her horn, but she didn’t use them for any simple trifle. “I am sorry that you won’t be able to fly anymore, but I can’t help you. You will have to learn to live with it.”

Without giving her another look, the feathered dragon turned around and was about to visit her next client. Cynder couldn’t let her leave just like that, she knew the true reason behind her behavior. “This is about what I did, isn’t it?”

Whirlwind halted. She took a deep breath and remembered what the dragoness was talking about. “I’m treating you like I would treat any other patient.” Even though that wasn’t entirely true, Whirlwind wanted to move on. “It’s nothing personal.”

The dragon finally left and Cynder was alone again. There were many things that the Undead Skylander regrets, but none of them got close to what she did to Whirlwind all those years ago.

Many hundred years ago, before Eon has even funded the current Skylanders, Cynder still served under Malefor. As the Black Dragon, she spread terror and destruction across the entire Skylands and it wasn’t until Malefor was defeated and Spyro freed her that she could be herself and become a Skylander. But there was a time when the dragon grew curious and asked Malefor for a favor.

Cynder just entered the cold fog that covered the top of the underworld. Even though the world knew her as the Black Dragon, her real name has always been Cynder, but the only one to ever call her that was the Undead King Malefor. She flew in between the dangerous rocks and caves that were present throughout the entire underworld, until she finally reached her home. The dark energy that covered her body looked like black smoke, fading as it moved upwards with sharp motions. That look made her almost invisible in the dark area, only her striking white eyes could always be seen. Malefor has been waiting for his most dangerous ally. The giant dragon wore no armor back then, everyone could see the pale purple scales on his body and the several scars he has gained over centuries of trying to take over Skylands.

“You’re late.” Malefor’s first words after his servant returned from another day of terrorizing innocent people. “What took you so long?”

“They fought back.” Cynder’s voice was raspy, almost distorted. She practically hissed the words with such a dark tone that you could feel it running down your spine.

“It looks like they are finally foolish enough to defend themselves.” Malefor chuckled, no one in Skylands could match his powers so far, and he didn’t think anyone ever would. “If they value their lives, they will surrender to me. It’s just a matter of time.”

Cynder didn’t want to admit it, but she always wanted to know why she had to attack and torture people in order for Malefor to be happy. She didn’t understand why he barely gets out of his cave to face them himself. Even though she’s had years behind her, deep inside the dragoness did feel guilt. She could never tell Malefor that though. After all, he did raise her like his own daughter.

“Master.” The Black Dragon started to speak. “Why do I always have to hurt people?”

“What kind of question is that?” The king was displeased with the behavior of the dragon that he took under his wing for so many years. “That’s what your powers are for. Once they realize that they stand no chance they will give in.”

“What if I don’t want to keep terrorizing them?” Cynder was full of confidence but lost it as soon as she saw the look on Malefor’s face.

“Are you denying me?” The villain towered himself over the relatively small dragon and threatened her in case she thought of betraying him.

“No, of course not! I just want to know what those beings are like, maybe there’s an easier way to convince them.” Cynder gulped and moved backwards, afraid that she would get punished for her disobedience.

Malefor looked at his intimidated minion for a few more moments before smiling sinisterly. “You’re right.”

“I am?” Cynder was surprised and raised her head up to hear more.

“Yes, maybe you should look for another way.” Malefor was a master of manipulating others to achieve his goals, and Cynder was no exception. “It’s time for you to see what this world is truly like.”

Malefor inhaled and gathered his undead energy before spewing an enormous purple flame right at Cynder. The dragon shielded herself with her wings and thought that this would be her end, but after Malefor stopped, she was still alive. Cynder opened her eyes and saw that her wings were no longer pitch black but shades of purple. She looked at her claws and tail, purple scales all over her body. Her eyes had icy blue pupils and the undead energy that she emitted was gone, this was her true self.

“What did you do?” Cynder still observed herself and couldn’t believe her eyes.

“I removed the undead aura that you possessed for all those years. This is your pure body.” Malefor felt pity for his daughter figure looking so pathetically weak, but he wanted to grant her the wish of seeing the Skylands from a different perspective. “Now go, see for yourself what it’s like to be one of them. And do not disappoint me.”

“I won’t master, I promise.” Cynder smiled with genuine joy before ascending into the air and swirling upwards, exiting the underworld.

Malefor was certain that his plan would succeed and that this would eliminate any doubts Cynder had. She would see the Skylands that despises the undead ever since he could remember.

Cynder was soaring through the sky with a feeling she never felt before. For the first time in her life she could do whatever she wanted, not listening to any orders. No one recognized the Black Dragon and didn’t look twice when they saw the cheerful dragon fly by. She inhaled the fresh air that she felt across her face and that allowed her to gently glide in between the clouds. She looked up to see something strange. It was a circular bow spanning across the sky in every imaginable color. Cynder has never seen something this beautiful before. Suddenly, she felt herself colliding with something. The dragon was crashing down before she caught herself and spread her wings to keep herself from falling. When she looked up, she saw a creature with pale blue feathers approach her.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” The worried dragon was in front of the reformed Cynder and felt embarrassed for her clumsiness.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Cynder shook her head as she stared into the other dragon’s dark blue eyes with light blue irises bolting from side to side nervously. “I was just so mesmerized by that… thing.” Cynder looked up to gaze at the fascinating appearance once more and get lost in its colors.

“You mean the rainbow?” The creature was humored by the fact that she didn’t know what it was and smiled. “It’s actually mine.”

“You own it?” Cynder made big eyes after hearing that the stranger owned something like that.

The feathered dragon laughed. “No, I made it.” She then proceeded to light up the horn on top of her forehead and shoot a colorful beam, creating another rainbow across the sky.

“Wow.” Cynder was fascinated and couldn’t keep her eyes off the incredible sight. She looked over to her newfound friend and realized that they didn’t know each other’s names yet. “I’m Cynder, by the way.”

“Whirlwind.” The dragon hybrid smiled and was glad to have found a companion that was so amazed by her powers. “Nice to meet you.”

The two dragons decided to spend the rest of the day together. Cynder told Whirlwind that she’s not familiar with many parts of Skylands and Whirlwind was happy to give her a tour of her homeland. High up in the clouds, there were the Dragon Isles. A collection of islands featuring many ancient buildings and sculptures. It was the home of many dragons, who all greeted Cynder as she flew by. Down below, there was the Valley of the Unicorns. Islands, all connected so that the flightless creatures could cross and visit each other. They were delighted to see Whirlwind leave a rainbow trail behind her as she passed by.

Whirlwind was the daughter of one of the mightiest dragon warriors on the isles and one of the most beautiful unicorns of the valley. Her father showed her how to maneuver herself through the skies while her mother taught her how to handle her powers. They were a happy family. However, the others of their kind weren’t as fond of the hybrid. For many years she was shunned by both races and excluded, making her feel miserable. But after showing them how amazing a combination between two different species can be, everyone had a change of heart and finally accepted the unicorn dragon.

The two friends flew some more together, laughing and sight seeing everything that Whirlwind could show Cynder. They soon reached a foggy area, making it hard for the dragons to see.

“Where are we now, Whirlwind?” As the Black Dragon, Cynder would usually use the fog to her advantage, but she could barely see anything with her regular eyes.

“I’m not sure.” Whirlwind squinted her eyes as well to see, until she finally recognized the place. The dragon slowed down as her pupils shrunk and her eyes opened wide. Cynder looked over to her friend and wasn’t sure what was happening, until they finally exited the fog and arrived at islands covered with ruins. “No…” Whirlwind landed on top of the biggest island and looked around herself.

“Where are we exactly?” Cynder observed the place as well and was slightly disturbed by all the destruction surrounding them, it was a dark turn from the cheerful landscapes they just visited.

Whirlwind didn’t say a word and only walked forward, pure horror in her eyes. Cynder could tell that she wasn’t afraid, but rather sad. They finally arrived at a spot where Whirlwind stopped and sat down. It was a large ruin, which seemed to be the remains of a house. The roof crumbled down onto the floor and the shards of the glass window was scattered across the debris, it was a gruesome sight. “This was my home.” Whirlwind finally answered with tears forming in her eyes.

Cynder was in shock. She looked at her friend whose tears were now running down her face and dripped to the ground. “What happened?” Cynder asked in a curious, but gentle tone.

“It was a day like every other.” Whirlwind’s voice was shaking from the crying, but she tried her best to tell the tragic story. “Me and my parents were at home spending time together, when suddenly we heard thunder.”

Cynder experienced many storms throughout her life, but she remembered one which was unlike any other. Something about this place reminded her of it.

“We thought it was just a regular storm, but then we heard screaming.” Whirlwind inhaled abruptly as even more tears appeared in her eyes. “I rushed over to the door to see what was going on and as soon as I opened it…”

The dragon broke down while sobbing and Cynder immediately put her claw on her friend’s shoulder to comfort her. “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it.”

Whirlwind shook her head and insisted to finish. “I turned around and all I saw were those dark flames.”

Cynder slowly moved her claw away and started to remember something, but she didn’t know why.

“It was an attack on our peaceful village. Unicorns and dragons alike were killed, dozens.” Whirlwind built herself back up and stopped her sobbing. The tears in her eyes decreased and her expression suddenly became furious, clenching her teeth and arching her eyebrows. “It was the Black Dragon.”

Cynder was paralyzed. With that name, she finally remembered. Years ago, Malefor ordered her to destroy the village of the dragons and unicorns. This was that same village. She killed dozens of innocent creatures, including Whirlwind’s parents, but the survivor didn’t know that. Whirlwind has spent the day with the murderer of her parents, showing her what she has done and sharing everything with her. Cynder felt beyond terrible, she couldn’t bear being close to the hybrid. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

Whirlwind looked up and before she could say a word the dragoness was gone. Cynder now realized why Malefor allowed her to go on this trip. He wanted her to see what a monster she truly was and how much damage she has caused. The dragon wiped the tears out of her eyes as she speeded back to her home, the underworld.

In Malefor’s lair, the disturbed Cynder finally returned. Furiously she landed on the cold ground and approached her father figure who has patiently been waiting for her.

“And, how did it go?” Malefor already knew that Cynder would be upset, but he didn’t expect it to this extent.

“How could you!?” The dragoness yelled at the top of her lungs. “How could you make me do all those terrible things?”

“Cynder, calm down.” Malefor wasn’t concerned in the slightest and wanted to hear about his minion’s latest experience. “What did you see?”

“Destruction, chaos, death!” Cynder was in rage. She wasn’t only angry at the king, but also at herself for allowing him to use her like that. “You raised me to be a weapon, a messenger of death. They didn’t deserve to die!”

“I knew you’d manage to fail at the simplest mission.” Malefor was rather annoyed than angered after seeing how resistant his most deadly assistant has become. “And besides, I never forced you to do anything, you willingly followed my orders.”

“Because I had no choice!” Cynder looked around herself and finally saw the truth. She saw all the skulls and bones around the area and realized that the scars on Malefor’s body were not scars from brave battles, but scars created by innocent creatures that tried to defend themselves. And she was just as bad as him. “You saved me before I even hatched just to do this to me?”

Malefor laughed after hearing that sentence. He always told Cynder that he saved her from a deadly fate in her homeland, but he actually kidnapped her after slaughtering most of her kind. “I never saved you, foolish child. I stole you.”

“What?” Cynder was confused about that statement. She thought about it and suddenly it all made sense. She was just like Whirlwind, her real parents were killed and she was left alone and defenseless, the perfect opportunity for Malefor to gain an ally. “You never wanted to save me?” She asked that question with disbelief, but deep inside she always knew that it was the truth.

“Of course not.” Malefor finally told the truth for once. “You stem from a rare kind of dragons and your powers were too great to pass out on.”

Cynder couldn’t believe it. Her entire life was a lie. She didn’t grow up with her real parents, but instead became one of the most feared creatures in all of Skylands. The dragon clenched her teeth and closed her eyes as tears ran down her face. She took a deep breath before looking up and into Malefor’s wicked eyes. “I hate you.”

“Good.” Malefor’s final word before he charged up his flame breath and once again unleashed it towards Cynder.

The Undead King transformed her back into the Black Dragon, this time suppressing her free will completely and making her nothing more than a hate driven puppet of dark energy that only lived to kill.

In the present, after Cynder was freed from Malefor’s wicked curse and found her true self, she was still laying in her bed, staring at the door leading into her room. Whirlwind was her last chance to fix her wing, but she couldn’t expect such a favor from her after what she’s done, and she knew that. To her surprise however, the feathered hybrid returned to her room. Cynder looked at her. They didn’t exchange a word. She was about to ask why she returned, but then Whirlwind spoke up.

“Did you want to do it?” Whirlwind lost her cold attitude and was as vulnerable as the day the dragons met. “Did you want to kill my parents?”

“No, Whirlwind of course not.” Cynder was baffled that she would even think that, but she didn’t blame her. She did unspeakable things as the Black Dragon, things she could never make up for. “I regret everything I’ve done as the Black Dragon, everything.”

“But you did it anyway.” Whirlwind was angry, but it was overwhelmed by the sadness in her voice. “You took countless innocent lives.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” Cynder wasn’t trying to justify her actions, but she wanted to explain her side of the story. “Malefor kidnapped me. He raised me to be a weapon, a killer. I never knew what was wrong and what was right until the day I met you and saw what I did, then I finally realized.”

“Then why did you go back to him?” Whirlwind used her claws to wipe the tears out of her eyes and calmed down. “Why didn’t you just leave?”

“He would’ve found me.” Cynder thought about running away, but that could have lured Malefor out and he would’ve killed even more. “And I wanted to confront him, but he had full control over me. There was nothing I could do, I’m sorry.”

Whirlwind inhaled and closed her eyes before opening them again and looking at Cynder without anger or sadness, but more so relief. “When Spyro told us that the Black Dragon would join the Skylanders, I was furious. I wanted to confront whoever they were and…”

Cynder sensed by the tone of her voice what she wanted to do, but Whirlwind couldn’t get the words through her lips.

“When I saw that it was you, I was confused. Then I became angry, I felt betrayed.” Whirlwind looked at the window next to Cynder to see the sun shining through the glass. “I didn’t want anything to do with you, but I watched you. I was afraid that you had evil intentions, but I was wrong.”

Cynder felt relieved after hearing that the dragon didn’t believe that she was truly evil after all, but she also didn’t understand why.

“You worked so hard to prove to everyone that you’re not the Black Dragon anymore and that this is who you truly are.” Whirlwind could form her mouth into a slight smile as she looked at the friend she lost over the years. “I believe you that the Black Dragon was just Malefor’s creation, not the dragon who’s sacrificed her wings to protect her allies.”

They both looked at the broken wing. It was upsetting to see it so limp and lifeless, constantly reminding the Undead Skylander that she could never use it again. Before Cynder looked back at the unicorn, who moved closer to the injured wing. Her horn started to glow, and she lowered her head to touch Cynder’s wing with it. The Skylander’s eyes opened wide as she witnessed Whirlwind using her powers to magically undo the damage and heal the wing.

Whirlwind raised her head and moved away to give Cynder some space. The dragoness tried to move her wing, and after months of failed attempts, it finally worked. She could move it in every possible direction, and she didn’t feel any pain while doing so. Whirlwind smiled while watching the overjoyed dragon flap her wings, nearly hitting the ceiling in the process. “You deserve this, you’ve proven that.”

Cynder stopped her movements and looked over to Whirlwind with a happy smile. She knew that she could never fix the damage she’s done, but she wanted to try her best to prevent anything like that from happening again. “Thank you.”

With a nod, Whirlwind excused herself and left the room, going on to fulfill her other duties in the hospital. Meanwhile Cynder finally threw the sheets on top her body aside and sprinted out of bed. Right away, she used her wings to dash through the hallway and out into the open. She flew high up into the sky and inhaled the air. She has never been this happy to fly again, and she would never forget Whirlwind’s gesture.

Deep down below even the lowest of islands was the underworld. As gloomy and cold as always, it was covered with fog protecting it from unwanted visitors. Deep in the heart of the unsettling place, was the Creepy Citadel, one of the underworld’s most prominent structures. Malefor has spent the last few months there, unwillingly. The dragon was sitting on the edge of one of the many bridges leading to the castle and looked upwards. With a swift flap of his wings, the Undead King rose up into the air and flew at an immense speed. He kept his eyes on the dark surroundings and focused on an opening in the distance. Moments before he could reach it, something hit him right in the spine. The dragon roared in pain as his wings were bombarded with undead magic, until he could no longer keep himself in the air and crashed down onto a nearby decaying island.

“You’re not going anywhere on my watch.” A haunting voice appeared behind him.

The dragon turned his head to see Hex, who held a skull engulfed with purple energy in her hand to threaten him. “You can’t keep me here forever. I will find a way to escape!”

Hex responded to that by using her magic to pull Malefor’s head right in front of her. Even though she was just the size of his muzzle, the witch had the dragon fully under her control. “If you ever try that again I will tear your wings off your body and bury you alive.” She released him before she floated back to the citadel that she resides in during her stay in the underworld. “You may have tricked me with the immortal bond that you forged, but now you will pay the price for it.”

Malefor looked after the sorceress as she entered the building and retreated to her chamber. She was able to keep him from escaping for months now, but the dragon started to come up with another idea to escape the underworld and finally wreak havock across Skylands.

[bitchcakegreen]

A View from Behind the Camera - GoT Episode 6 x 9 - Tent scene

Hi everyone! First let me start by saying I’m so sorry for not posting in such a long time. It’s been crazy busy in Bitchcake land and I am just now able to take a bit of time for myself. A quick reminder for those that are new to the blog, I write posts/metas from a director’s standpoint. I analyze camera angles and actor choices that lead to the overall subtext of the scene. I have over 25 years of experience as a theatrical professional. So without further adieu let’s just jump into the directorial analysis of the tent scene from The Battle of the Bastard episode. I know some of you have been waiting for this one.

We actually open scene with Jon’s VO (voiceover) at the tail end of the previous scene. We have Ramsey and his crew riding back to Winterfell with the Castle in the distance. We hear Jon say “If he was smart he would stay inside the walls of Winterfell and wait us out..” This happens before we ever see the war council. It’s edited this way to really underscore significance of Ramsey’s hold on Winterfell and The North at this time. Immediately after the line and the final swell of music we smash cut to the war council hovered over a map on a table. Sansa is screen left, seated, but never out of view. Jon is screen right, standing. They are bookending the scene. A random Northern, likely house Mormont, is next Sansa and Davos is next to Jon. The scene is light via ‘candlelight’ which allows Sapochnik to play with shadows when he’s building his shots. 

The shot holds steady for the next bit of dialogue until we get to Jon’s line about Ramsey’s weakness. On that we get a medium close-up of Sansa. She lowers her head away from the occupants of the table on Jon’s line “It’s his weakness too” But not before we see that she is displeased with the comment. Sophie has been directed to play disappointment and frustration in this spot. It showcases that Sansa is annoyed that Jon doesn’t ask her about Ramsey - something she will bring up later in the scene. We see Sophie directed to play a lot of her emotions close to the vest, never really letting people see what she’s thinking or how she truly feels - except for Jon. With him she doesn’t hide. That is honestly an incredibly telling bit of direction. With him she doesn’t have to hold back. 

Now we go back to the War Council around the map but this time we are in the POV of Sansa. This gives us a different perspective of the men around the table and it also informs the audience that Tormund is there. This is the first time we see him in the scene. 

Next we move to a shot of Tormund, at table level, between Jon and Davos’s arms. 

Next we get a bit of humor, as much humor as GoT will allow us, with the men discussing strategy and Tormund not understanding military terms. This a series of shots back and forth between Jon and Davos and a confused Tormund. 

After this interchange we once again have a single shot of Jon and Davos this morphs into a traveling shot as Jon straightens up and moves toward Tormund, examining the map as he goes. This sets us up for another close up of Sansa. The way the actors are now blocked around the space we have an a coupling of Jon and Sansa although it happens off screen. Sansa is to one side of Tormund when Jon crosses he effectively ‘moves’ Tormund out of the direct line up with Sansa. Davos speaks and we get a close up of Sansa once more. This time she is focused on Davos who is offscreen. It’s a relatively fast closeup and likely used to give the viewers a split second idea of what Sansa is feeling at this moment. 

This is followed by a shot between Jon and Tormund’s shoulders as Davos continues to talk strategy. Tormund leans in and asks Jon if he actually thought Rasmey would fight him. Jon’s line is ‘No, but I wanted to make him angry.” On angry we get another medium closeup of Sansa. She raises her eyes to Jon, but sits stock still. It’s a great acting choice. 

Next we move to a shot off of what would be the random extra House Mormont guardsman’s elbow to Jon and Tormund. It’s important to point out that the director has given everyone the note to not notice anything about Sansa at this point. She is effectively invisible to the men at this point. This will come into play later on in the scene and also later on in the seasons. Her visibility shifts but we will discuss that as we come to it. We have a bit more back and forth before the men exit the scene leaving Jon and Sansa alone. 

Jon sits, ale in hand, and has been directed to be weary and rub his brow for some relief. Sansa is still in her place on the opposite side of the tent. Now what is interesting to point out is that the map of Winterfell and the battlefield is between them. Essentially Ramsey separates them. We get an extreme closeup of Jon’s profile as Sansa walks into the shot. She is in full light and he is only partially visible and only partially lit. She is in command in this shot. 

Kit’s delivery of ‘For what they’re worth’ tells the audience that he has been directed to not realize that Sansa is about to question his decisions in terms of Ramsey. We have a medium shot of Sansa as she says ‘You sit around making plans to defeat a man you don’t now...” Halfway through we get a closeup of Jon, from the angle of the table, stopping in surprise from drinking his mead by her comment and the forceful tone in her voice. Sophie is not yelling yet, she is sharp and to the point. She is trying to make him see things from a different angle. 

We cut back to Sansa as she continue her lines. When she gets to “I know how he likes to hurt people” we have a quick cut back to Jon, this time from table level from the angle of Sansa’s palm most likely. He visibly responses to this, most likely calling back to the things he knows she’s endured. It’s a split second shot much like Sansa’s earlier one at the top of the scene. Once more back to Sansa as she goes on. “Did it ever once occur to you I might have some insight?” On the word insight we cut back to Jon. Kit has been directed to realize she is right. He could use her knowledge of the enemy and he didn’t think of it earlier.

Now we come to the real meat of the scene. This is a series of back and forth shots between Jon and Sansa as the tension builds. That’s the very reason  Sapochnik utilizes the ‘tennis match’ style of shots inside of simply giving us a wide shot of the couple as the fight. A wide shot would be static, uninteresting to watch even as the fight builds. But the back and forth adds tension to the view. The audience is placed in the other characters shoes as the gauge their scene partner’s reaction. 

Somethings to note about the interplay. Sansa’s line ‘He plays with people. He’s been doing it all his life. He’s far better at it then you” frustrates Jon. Because it’s true and he knows it. Jon is a great fighter and swordsman. Ramsey is cunning and conniving. Sansa knows this. She tells Jon that he doesn’t know Ramsey. Jon’s line ‘Alright tell me. How should we get Rickon back?” is his way of saying he knows what she is saying is true. 

The next shot of Sophie we get is a medium close up with a hold. She has been directed to pause and compose herself before she continues. What she has to say next is not easy. They will never get Rickon back. 

As the scene builds so does the tension we start to get even more extreme with the close-ups. We are given some great reactionary lines that the actors really use to perfection. On “He wants you to make a mistake” Kit is directed to cross to Sophie on his answering line. This puts them face to face and only inches apart.

 Not the best screencap but it gives you an idea of how close they are together at this point. 

At this point they are yelling at each other. Sansa is no longer the silent observer she was at the top of the scene. Jon is not used to people talking to him like this least of all Sansa. I have seen some metas that say Sansa is frightened of Jon in this scene and frankly I don’t see that. Sophie never once plays fear. The huffing and puffing between them is anger and frustration and frankly sexual tension. They aren’t really listening to each other and that is what leads each building line. In addition to that we do have the underlying sexual tension between them. I said it. I meant it. And now I’ll tell you how the direction and the acting prove it. Most likely Kit and Sophie have been directed push sexual tension into the scene as the anger builds. You can see it in the movements of their bodies and how they focus their attention on each other on the back and forth. There is a difference between arguing with someone and wanting to angry fuck someone. Each type of portrayal needs different acting choices. There is a split second at the end of the fighting where Sophie is attempting to compose herself, heavy breathing and sighs, where she actually focuses downward. It’s quick but it’s there. She may be focusing on his chest or she may be focusing on his lips. This is pure acting choice. It is unlikely that the director would give her this note. This is most likely an organic acting reaction.

What’s really powerful about the scene is not the visuals. It is the direction to the acting choices. The ‘fight’ is all on the acting ability of Sophie and Kit. 

Finally there is a moment of silence where we only hear their ragging breathing. That’s how passionate the fight got. The silence lasts five seconds. Remember from earlier blogs that five seconds is an eternity in film time. A pause this long is significant and would have been a specific directorial note. Jon composes himself and says his line. We stay with Jon for a moment but we can see that Sophie has turned and is heading out of the scene. We have a POV switch to an extreme close up of Sophie at the tent entrance. She meets Kit’s eyes (Or where his eyes would be if he was standing in the shot) and delivers the “I’m not going back there” line. There is a brief pause to emphasize the “Do you understand me?” We have a switch to a medium shot of Jon as he answers her. “I promise” 

POV switch back to Sansa for a closeup on “No one can protect me. No one can protect anyone” She has been directed to deliver these lines so straightforward and almost glib. It’s telling to have these lines said to Jon here. In Sansa’s scene with Brienne from earlier in the season she says “Jon will protect me” Here she no longer believes those words, if she ever believed that at all. Sansa exits the scene and we have a close up of Jon. He has been directed to be so torn and terrified by her statement. He believes he can protect and he knows that she is all he has left (that he knows of) and he doesn’t want to lose her.  This reaction is what lead him into his scene with Melisandre...which we will talk about next time.

You can pinpoint the minute his heart breaks. Jon turns and rests his hands on the table, we pan back to a shot of map. The shot of the stones gives the audience just another glimpse of how outmatched Jon is manpower-wise. Cut to next scene. 

Well there you have it. The tent scene. I’m sorry it was such a long one and once again I’m sorry it took so long for me to post. 

Next up is a quickie. The scene between Jon and Melisandre. See you all next time! 

[wingsofanillyrian]

When the Cold Creeps In (Jurdan)

This one comes from @spegetty : “The only thing cold here is my heart.” I may have gotten a little out of hand... :)

TFOTA Masterlist

ACOTAR & TOG Masterlists

Snow fell in flurries from the dreary gray sky. Flakes stuck to my eyelashes, and I blinked them away. Travelling with royalty through the densely wooded forests of Insmire meant that I had to remain alert. I scanned the path ahead for any anomalies, my ears attuned to any sound. My focus is broken, however, when the King sidles next to me.

“Its freezing,” Cardan complains, teeth chattering as he rubs his arms. I pointedly look at the numerous furs he is bundled up in before rolling my eyes. No way in hell can he possibly be cold.

“The only thing cold here is my heart,” I say, and spur my stallion ahead. I would not fall for his Kingly ‘s tricks. We had to stay on task if we wanted to reach the Court of Termites by midday. We couldn’t afford to stop because someone got a bit chilly.

“Jude! How can you expect me to appear put-together and royal if I’m shivering? You’ve got to have an extra cloak or something in those saddlebags.”

I sigh, pulling back on the reigns until we are even. I glare at him, only because he is right. “I do, in fact, have an extra cloak. But I’m not letting you ruin it.”

“Come on,” he says, turning his wicked smile on me. “Not even if I ask nicely?”

“Nope.” He wouldn’t get his grimy, greedy Fair hands on my ocean blue velvet cloak. It was the one thing I had allowed myself to splurge on recently. The clasp was forged in brass, and was trimmed with lush, white fur. And it certainly wasn’t cheap.

“I promise not to get mud on it.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

“I swear!”

“Not happening, your Highness.”

“Fine then. I guess this council might be cut short due to my frostbitten fingers and toes.” He wiggles his hands in my face for emphasis. Fed up with his spoiled attitude, I sling the cloak from my shoulders and hold it out to him.

His smile fades. “Oh, no. you keep it, or you’ll be cold. I was only joking-“

“Just take the damn cloak,” I growl, beginning to regret my decision to be nice. I avoid Cardan’s eyes as his fingers brush mine as they close around the fabric. I snap out my treasured blue cloak and wrap it over my shoulders.

As fate would have it, my mare chose that very moment to splash through a puddle, splattering thick clumps of mud onto the long fur hem. I let out an exasperated sound and glare at Cardan.

We don’t speak a word the rest of the way to the Roach’s palace.

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

The silver-haired king greets us at the front gates, all kind smiles and warm words. Our horses are whisked away to be brushed and fed by human servants, and I hope my face does not betray my distaste at the sight.

Cardan and I, along with the rest of the Royal guard, are led into the massive dining hall. Torches light the giant space from floor to ceiling, which arches high above our heads. The walls are intricately carved marble, and I admire the craftsmanship from afar as the monarchs take their seats at the long wooden table.

Talks with King Robien go smoothly, judging by what I observe from my spot at the edge of the dining hall. After all, as his Royal Highness’ bodyguard, it would be uncouth for me to join them. I clench my jaw at the harsh reality. As a mortal, I could never hold any real power here in Faerie. Not outright, at least. No one knows the true power of the throne lies in my hands, and I intend to keep it that way, for all our sakes.

So I stand stoically as Cardan and the King talk and laugh, content to let him fill me in later.

After the meal is finished, Cardan purposely raises his voice loud enough that I can hear him. “While I do enjoy your company good sir, I must insist that I return home tonight.”

“Won’t you stay the night? I’ve prepared guest chambers for you and yours. Certainly you must be tired after a day’s journey.”

“While I appreciate your kind offer, I must insist on returning to my homestead. I have an appointment tomorrow that I cannot miss.”

“Very well.” The Roach King tips his goblet respectfully in Cardan’s direction as he rises to his feet, giving a curt bow.

If there’s one thing Cardan can be counted on for, its civility when needed most. But not when it comes to me, apparently. The incident earlier in the forest proved that.

I bark orders at the palace guard to retrieve the horses and prepare to depart. Cardan tries to catch my eye as we wait to mount our steeds, but I stare straight ahead. My chestnut mare is brought to me, and I swing onto her without a second thought.

“Jude-“

“Save it, Cardan.” I signal to the others to move out.

I ride through the winter storm in only my simple uniform, my stained cloak balled up in my saddlebags.

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

By the time we reach the estate, I cannot feel my nose. My fingers are nearly frozen around the reigns, and I have to blow on them to warm them enough to pry them free. Thankfully, I made it back first and am able to avoid Cardan’s selfishness for a few more hours. I stumble to my chambers and collapse under the thick, down-filled covers without even removing my muddied boots. The fire is burning in the hearth, a fact that I am incredibly grateful for. Exhausted, I close my eyes and let my mind wander.

As usual, my thoughts swirl around the King. My still numb hands curl into loose fists as I recall his earlier whining. Must he be such an entitled brat? Did he ever stop and think how his actions and words might affect others?

I sigh deeply. Of course he does. I’ve peeked behind the mask he wears. I’ve gotten a glimpse, no matter how small, of his heart and the tenderness of it. I’m one of the few that knows he feels more deeply than he lets on. I almost pity him for the way he has to hide his true self.

Almost.

I’m nearly asleep when the door creaks open, causing me to bolt upright.

Cardan stops in his tracks, the flames of the fireplace dancing in his black eyes. “I hoped you’d be sleeping.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, slinging off the covers and stalking toward him.

“I came to talk,” he says quietly, shifting on his feet. “And to give you this.” He holds out my borrowed cloak, which smells sweet and soapy, like its been freshly washed. I stare at it, completely dumbfounded. I hadn’t realized until that moment that I hadn’t expected that I’d ever get it back.

“Thank you.” I hang it on a hook behind the door. “But we can discuss the Roach King in the morning. Right now, I just want to sleep.”

“Actually…” Cardan starts, his expression softening. His tail makes a rare appearance, flicking across the floor. “That’s not what I came here to talk about.”

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m in no mood to discuss the lack of your favorite late-night snacks in the kitchens-“

“Please, Jude.”

It’s the rawness of those two syllables that cause me to still. Never once have I heard him say please, besides when begging for his life. I take in the slight inward curve of his shoulders, the dullness of his eyes. It doesn’t take much to see that he’s just as exhausted as I am.

I take pity on him and motion for him to sit beside me on the bed. He does, sinking into the mattress silently. For awhile, the only sound is the crackle of the burning logs.

“Well?” I ask, patience wearing thin. “Are you going to sit there and sulk all night? I recall you mentioning talking. Which involves, you know, speaking. Like a conversation-“

“I can’t keep doing this forever, Jude,” he says, brows knitting together. I wait for him to elaborate, and when he doesn’t, a stone settles in my gut. This could be bad. I school my features into a neutral expression and prepare for the worst.

“Can’t keep doing what, your Highness?” I cannot help myself from rubbing the title in his face; reminding him of our deal. But his flinch does not provide me the satisfaction I was hoping for.

“This,” he repeats, motioning between us. “Pretending that there’s nothing there, acting like you mean nothing to me.” He turns his hollow eyes up to my face, and my heart clenches. “I can’t keep pretending to be some cruel, heartless being and treat you as if you’re beneath me.”

“What are you saying, Cardan?” My voice is barely a whisper. My heart pounds so loud I’m afraid he’ll hear it. His gaze dip to my lips, his mouth twisting with remorse.

“I’m saying that… You mean something to me, Jude. And I don’t know exactly what yet, but I’m drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stay away. And… I hope you’ll forgive me for this.”

My brows draw together. “Forgive you for-“

I am cut off by the unexpected feeling of Cardan’s wind-chapped lips on mine. This kiss isn’t like the first time, which had been fueled by spite. It doesn’t feel like running over knives; its softer. Sweeter, like the memory of the chocolate chip cookies mom made for my sisters and I when we were younger.

His mouth and tongue are gentle against mine, and this time its clear he isn’t trying to hold back. He’s stopped trying to resist temptation, instead had given into it wholly. I follow his lead, tangling my fingers in his dark locks above his thorny crown, tugging him closer. His hands slip under my shirt, and its only then that I pull away.

He’s gone too far.

Drawing a deep breath, we’re still close enough that I can smell him. I can smell the pine and the stables, scents from our journey which cling to his unwashed skin. Suddenly, I’m reminded of the throne room, and how we could never be equals.

Some may call me the Queen, but I could never actually be one.

“Leave,” I whisper, cheeks burning with shame as I turn from him.

“Jude?” There is sorrow in his voice, along with a million questions. I have a million questions of my own, too, but none that I want answers to right now.

“We can’t,” I say simply.

From the corner of my eye, I see Cardan’s shoulders slump. His footfalls are silent as he strides for the door and pauses with one pale hand on the knob. I can feel his eyes searching, like hot pinpricks on my skin.

“We could, if we dared.”

I stare at the carpet as the door clicks shut behind him and everything I thought I knew crumbles to dust.

@spegetty @maddieimhot @dragonbound135 @highlady-brittney @amren-tiny-ancient-one @silenceofthe-angel @lovedrxg @rapunzel1523 @jjellybean @alicethelonerabbit @saltwatergurl @my-year-in-japan @spjib @shadowsingersxks @esrahiba @i-d-k-at-this-point @fangirling-for-everythingg @deannaslover @entangledhearts @book-confessions @same-white-light @sofiachronicles @goldenblinds @stars-wholisten @tntwme @lorcanswife @lanakaythings @anothergenericmuseacc1 @raraoaawr @immortalchurch-tid @selrys @bsmr261 @wonderland--memories @dreamilyzealousbird @staywiththesuriel @awesomethreedragons @nofantasynolife

[magicallibary]

Opposites Attract (Part 1)

A/N: Hello! I’m going to say this now: I’m sorry if this week’s stories come out late or don’t come out at all. I’m starting exams this week and I’m getting very busy, though I’m trying to work in advance both on stories and studying but, we’ll see how it goes! Also, sorry if you don’t like stories in parts but, right now, it’s easier for me to do them in parts. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this first part (despite being only an introduction to this story) and have a great rest of your day! 

Word Count: 1783 Words Warnings: Nothing :D

Summary: The ocean and space are two different worlds but, what happens when they find each other. 

You know the saying ‘opposites attract?’ Well, I bet there isn’t a better example of that being true than this tale. You see, the universe is strange and the Earth is strange.

If you really think about it, you could see humans as a middle ground. Humans live between two worlds, making humans the middle. With a deep, unknown ocean below and a dark, unknown galaxy above. Perhaps, a human being won’t see their kind as the middle but, the beings above and below them will see it like that and would be fascinated by that.

Before we begin this tale, you need to know about these two unknown worlds.

Let’s start with the ocean, shall we?

The deep blue, what most believe to be just that: a deep blue, empty pool of water only filled with marine plants and various sea animals. But, to see what’s really there, you need to look closer and deeper. Humanoid creatures call this place home. You’ve probably heard of these creatures under the name ‘mermaids’ in some pirate or children story. You see, males and females born without legs, the limbs being replaced with colorful fish-like tails. Different colored gills grow by their cheeks giving them the ability to breath underwater as well as talk underwater. Their hair and skin never gets wet, always looking dry and perfect. But, don’t think these creatures can only stay underwater with their fins. No, if they so wish, they can swim towards the nearest shore and as their skin feels the sand, the large tail would banish being replaced by legs and fashionable clothes. And, when they were done on the shore, as their legs felt the salty water, they would banish, welcoming the half-fish trait back. Most of these underwater humanoids, didn’t exit the ocean though. It almost felt like an unwritten law; no one from the deep sea would be welcomed into the soil and sand and no one from the soil and land would be welcomed into the community of the deep sea. Similarly to humans, they had their markets, their restaurants, their houses… So, really, there was no real reason to leave the ocean when everything was the same, if not better, to what was waiting for them on the shore. All of them thought this, well, all of them but one.

Meet Rivalyn. She came from a prestigious family and, of course, her family would disagree with her aspirations related to the soiled land but, being supportive, they never stopped her from chasing what she wanted. A lot of the civilians had found themselves slowly falling for her with her sparkling green eyes that always shone with curiosity. Her long blonde strands were perfectly curled, framing her pale face gently. Her red gills extended in swirls along her cheeks matching both her bright lips and tail that faded from red to white. Sadly for those townsfolk, she wasn’t interested in anyone nor anything the ocean handed her, on the other hand, she was interested in the world above her. She would seat on rocks that came above the water and stare at all the possibilities in front of her but, at the end of the day, she was too scared to step into the shore and walk around in legs. So, there’s where she stayed: watching and imagining.

Now, that you know of the sea, it’s time to look at the other side of the spectrum; what there’s above.

The emptiness of space is again another speculation that is simply incorrect. More planets and worlds to count are found among stars and meteors. An example of these millions upon millions of planets is the world of Cuatania. Known for its wonderful sky, Cuatania is surrounded by the Strion Nebula; a large thin and twisten line-shaped nebula filled with bright stars coloring Cuatania’s naturally black sky with the brightest tones of blue, purple and pink. The grass was colored a dark purple and special flowers grew around the planet’s surface. These flowers would glow different colors when nightime arrived, blinking their brightness and working as the world’s street lights. Truly an amazing sight for any visitor but, for the locals, this was the normal sight. Of course, they had other amazing things: their incredible advances in technology were due to the general high intelligence of the planet’s inhabitants. Similarly to human beings, the humanoids that live in this planet mostly believe that they’re the only living being in their part of the universe, so, they never found a reason to leave, despite their natural ability to teleport. Yet, similarly to the ocean’s population, one individual thought differently to everyone else.

Celeste was known for being highly excitable despite the usually calm townsfolk. She was a huge bookworm, her orbs were always scanning a written page. Then, she was quickly off, running around, her dark hair threatening to fall from its messy bun position. On one of these busy, nonstop days she made a telescope; not a normal telescope, though. This telescope had more than fifty different lenses within its structure, making any image bigger and easier to see. With her new machine, she found something she wouldn’t forget: she had found the Earth. Upon her discovery, she spent the following days trying to explain to everyone around her. Her tan-skin hands would wave around as words flowed quickly from between lips. Sadly, no one supported her ideas, some would even call it ridiculous. The lack of confidence in her, pushed her back making have second thoughts on teleporting to the new world she had found. So, her dark purple eyes would look up at the nebula-filled sky, imagining what would happen if she could go further from it. Until, one day, she did just that.

She swallowed her fears and looked up before closing her eyes as she focused on her banishing body while she teleported away. When her orbs finally opened, she found herself standing in a busy sidewalk. The sun shone on her skin and her eyes seemed brighter while she began walking around the streets. Weeks began to pass but, Celeste couldn’t find a reason to leave the wonderful new planet she had found. As the months flown by, she had found a job, bought a flat, tried a variety of foods and found her own strange clothing style. And soon, she realized she had spent a year there and, she couldn’t find it in her to feel even slightly sorry. Little did she know, she was going to be the reason the world from below and the world from above would find each other.

The summer season was soon slowly making its way back and Celeste had heard her fellow coworkers talk about the ‘beach.’ So, she did some research, finding a beach nearby from where she lived and decided to go there on one of her days off work. Since this was quite a small beach and the warm weather was only started, she was the only one resting her feet on the sand. Yet, still, she was amazed by the sight. The pale sand moved slightly with the soft breeze as waves crashed on the shore, leaving trails of seashells on the soggy surface. The salty smell of the sea drifted through the air while the shining sun made the water shiny as well as a turquoise color. Rocks came out of the water contrasting the tones of blue that formed the ocean. But, then, something caught her attention.

On one of the rocks, the silhouette of a human could be seen. Questions began flooding Celeste’s mind as she decided what she would due. After a few minutes of standing thoughtfully, she decided she would swim towards the figure. Sure, this wasn't the brightest idea but, she couldn’t scream at them and she wasn’t going to leave them there; she couldn't do that. Fully clothed, only with removed boots and socks, she felt her feet make contact with the chilly water but, she pressed on despite never swimming before. She swirled her arms and legs around, trying to stay afloat which worked for a while but, as she got closer to her destination, the water felt colder, numbing her limbs and tiredness soon began taking over her. Right as she reached the rock, she felt her body give in to the fatigue and felt herself begin to sink. She trashed around, hearing the sound of her own splashes, not knowing it had caught someone’s attention. As she sunk further, suddenly, she felt something caress her exposed arm. A warm and smooth surface rubbed along her arm, getting a grip and trying to pull her up but, the object wasn’t able to. Then, she heard a splash coming from behind her as she felt herself losing consciousness. The next thing she felt was two arms wrapping around her middle and pulling her above the water and to the rock. Celeste’s desperate coughs filled the silent atmosphere of the beach, her eyes locking shut as she regained control over her breathing.

When she opened her eyes, she was met with the brightest pair of blue eyes she had ever seen.

“Hello,” said the owner of the bright eyes, shyly “wha-?” Rivalyn’s words were cut off when she spotted the dark purple eyes of the individual she rescued. The blonde swore she could see the night sky’s stars shining within her eyes. She followed her orbs to find her observing her red fin.

“I’m sorry if this is rude, miss,” began the stranger with galaxy eyes “but, is this normal on this planet? I just, I had never seen anyone like you, miss.”

Rivalyn laughed quietly at her stuttering kindness and curiosity before answering. “It’s not very normal, you could say. But, I’m guessing you’re not from around here then?”

“What gave me away?” Celeste laughed, her inicial nerves calming down.

“Firstly, your eyes then, you asked about how normal humans with fins were on ‘this planet,’” she made quotations with her fingers as she laughed along with Celeste “so, if you’re not from here, where are you from?”

“Well, that’s a long story…” Celeste released a sigh as she pulled her brown, soggy hair behind her ears. She noticed the other girl laying down on the rock with a smile tugging at her lips.

“Well,” she smiled fully “I have all day.”

Celeste thought for a second before laying beside her and turning her head to catch her eyes. “Then, I have all day too.”

“Rivalyn,” she introduced “and you are?”

“Celeste. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Trust me, the pleasure’s all mine.” They both laughed along.

And that’s how it began.

[justaramblingromantic]

superheroes need childcare benefits too

Characters/Pairing: Kobayashi Rindou, Tsukasa Eishi, Tsukasa Hi’en (OC)/EiRin

Type: Superhero!Family!AU, Freestyle

Word Count: 3071

A/N: Inspired by this post. 

This drabble has been sitting in my draft pile for a couple of months already, I think? I was fooling around with the random super power generator and decided to write out something with the results I got, just for fun. Was also in the mood to write cute baby things...so there was that, too, lol. 

The thing about being a superhero was that the benefits suck.

There were no such thing as paid leave or annual bonuses and the nature of the work was akin to voluntary military service to the country so it wasn’t exactly very high paying in the first place, either. In fact, it was something like an anonymous, part time obligation to society on top of juggling a ‘normal’ day job and whatever life issues and familial commitments the ‘normal’ population had to deal with…only maybe with a bit more explosions and dangerous, life-threatening events randomly thrown into the mix.

You get to meet all sorts of interesting people with interesting abilities too, and then, depending on their intentions and alignments, you try your hardest to incapacitate, or outright kill, each other. Fun times.

Rindou quite enjoyed it, actually. The thrill of living a secret double life. The excitement and unpredictability that came with every mission. And who would not enjoy being a superhero? Her partner was something amazing too, and they worked together seamlessly. Their abilities complemented each other extremely well, and after all the years of being paired together, their teamwork was one of the best in the country, for their rank and specialty type, even.

That was just as well, since they were partners in every meaning of the word. They had known each other from a young age and had only grown closer over the years, from teammates to best friends to lovers.

Recently, they had also become parents. And with parenthood, came responsibilities that both were suddenly acutely conscious of, towards the tiny young life that they had made together. Being reckless for the sake of having fun was no longer acceptable. They had to be more careful during assignments now, and for the moment at least, they had also agreed that both should not be going on call at the same time – one would remain at home on baby watch while the other was out performing their civic duty.

“Rindou.” Eishi’s calm, smooth voice spoke over the comm earpiece that she was wearing. “Are you heading home soon?”

“Mm,” she replied distractedly, concentrating on focusing her powers and directing them to work as she intended. Her abilities had always been a bit on the wild side and not very easy to control, and she constantly had to work on them so that they would not get the better of her.

It was a simple rescue mission this time. There was a serious collision between two freight vessels off the shores of Tokyo, just sitting on one of the major shipping routes. She had been activated by the agency because her powers were probably the most useful to deal with an incident of this scale involving huge mobile constructs. The crews of both vessels had already been evacuated and airlifted out of the scene so now it was her turn to flex her muscles and get down to business.

“Can you swing by the store for some milk and eggs on the way back? We ran out.”

“’Kay~” Slit gold eyes grew unnaturally bright as she concentrated, willing all her energy into intense mental focus. Visualizing the bright, glowing rope of power in her mind’s eye, she proceeded to grab firmly onto it and give it a mighty heave.

Just like that, the atmospheric pressure dropped, and the energy around her shifted.

Hovering midair over the vast ocean, a mere fifty feet above where the partially submerged cargo ships were rapidly taking in water and about to sink right in the middle of the high sea traffic zone, the redhead watched musingly as a couple hundred thousand tonnage of steel and freight creaked and groaned ominously as the absolute laws of physics were exerted on them…in an entirely unnatural way.

“Is there anything else that you want me to pick up, dear husband?” she asked cheerfully. She was in a good mood today, and for obvious reasons. The sun was shining overhead, the weather was great. All in all, it was a really nice day to be out and about, even if she had to help haul back to the bay two huge ass ships.

There was a pause, and then her significant other remarked. “You’re just really happy to be finally out of the house, aren’t you?”

Before Rindou could respond, a loud, unintelligible squawk transmitted through the earpiece, followed by what sounded like awkward, unsteady flapping. Both parents winced at the ringing, pitched cry.

“Is that En-chan? What’s he doin’? He sounds energetic.”

“Our son is sitting on my shoulder.” Was Eishi’s reply. “I think he’s screaming for you.”

She could not help but grin at the mental imagery of her somewhat ruffled mate having to stay at home wrestling with their quirky and unruly offspring. The baby was barely six months old but the rapid manifestation of his unique abilities meant that his parents never quite knew what to expect next when it came to him. Regardless, Rindou still thought that her son was the best thing since sliced bread. Eishi more or less rolled with the lofty opinion because he largely felt the same way ever since they handed him the squalling newborn straight out of the delivery suite.

“Geeze, he’s probably just hungry again. Feed him well, Tsukasa~!”

The semi-submerged vessels were no longer sinking. If anything, they were expelling water at an incredible, exponential rate, and starting to recover miraculously from their previous, badly listing conditions. Rindou kept a halfhearted eye on the ships, but her attention was caught more by the slight commotion coming from the other end of the line.

Eishi muttered. “He doesn’t want his bottle. I don’t think he’s even interested in milk right now.”

More indignant chirruping and belligerent rustling could be heard from the other end of the line. The older of the two also seemed to be having quite a time of it pacifying the younger one. “En, settle down. I know you hear her voice, but your mother’s not here.”

There was a querying, unhappy cry of what sounded like a young eaglet. By then, Rindou could not contain her curiosity any longer. Her son had been a normal human baby (a super cute, chubby cheeked one) when she had left the house, but apparently that was no longer the case. She would have been more worried as a mother if not for the fact that this peculiar occurrence happened too often for her to be alarmed anymore. In their household, this type of situation was only normal, when one’s offspring possessed the rare ability to randomly shapeshift.

“Eh? What did En-chan become this time? How come all the interesting things happen only when you’re home alone with him? That’s hardly fair at all!”

There was a brief pause as her husband struggled not to share his actual thoughts on the matter, which more or less amounted to how he would rather have preferred not to have anything interesting happen at all when he was left in charge of watching their only child. Because Hi’en was still very, very young and had no control whatsoever over his powers, the infant often randomly shifted into supernatural creatures that had only been heard of and read about in myths and legends. The first time it happened, the boy was only a couple of months old when he abruptly turned into a phoenix chick, and when the panicked parents found the young creature floundering about in their son’s cot, they had initially thought that someone had stolen their precious offspring only to replace it with this strange looking…scraggly, angry baby bird of unidentified origins…and that which could also random burst into fire.

The problem with their child being able to shapeshift into random mythical creatures was that when he was in those forms, feeding and caring for his needs became a unique challenge. Sometimes Hi’en would stay in one creature form for an hour at most before popping back to his sleepy human baby self, other times, he stuck with whatever form he was most comfortable with for days on end and that was when his parents abruptly realized that (mythical) animal husbandry had also became an important prerequisite when it came to parenthood. This time was no different.

Eishi observed his awkwardly flailing son, all wings, talons, feathers…paws, claws and tail. The wings on the back were still small and not yet fully developed, the feathers all fluffy brownish-bronze baby down and not even molting anytime soon. The body was that of a very young lion cub; soft russet gold fur still speckled with camouflaging spots and clumsy, tapering tail fat and stubby from infancy. The front limbs ended in raptorial, razor talons and the back limbs in feline paws and equally sharp pinprick claws. A fuzzy, aquiline face with beady golden eyes and a sharp hooked beak paid rapt attention to his male parent, who was squinting at the youngster just as discerningly.

Hi’en let loose a series of demanding chirrups and clumsily headbutted his father for attention. Eishi plucked the youngling who had insisted on climbing precariously onto his shoulder when he heard his mother’s voice earlier and cradled his cat-sized child against his chest, barely even flinching when the baby dug his tiny claws into his forearms for stability. The white-haired man balanced the cellphone between his ear and shoulder, distractedly replying Rindou even as he padded into the kitchen with the fussing cub in tow.

“I think he turned into a griffin this time.”

“…Huh. What do those eat?”

That was a very good question, and one which the young parents found themselves asking almost every other week these days.

In the background, the massive constructs that were the damaged shipping vessels were now floating lightly on the shimmering ocean surface, delicate as a pair of drifting feathers. Thanks to her abilities to manipulate gravity and air, sending the ships back to the shipyard for repair would be a breeze. Pun intended.

“Think the packet of raw chicken sitting in the freezer will work?” Rindou asked as she started to gather and shape the climate to obey her will. Her gaze turned upwards, watching the gigantic nimbuses roll in and dim the skies overhead. The barometric pressure quickly dropped further, and the ambient wind speed started to pick up. The previously calm, tranquil waters became more restless, choppy, though not turbulent enough to send the ships back down to the bottom of the ocean. Rindou exerted her will and steadily pushed.

The two vessels slowly started to move, the howling gale and reduced inertia enough to set them both limping in the direction of port. Rindou trailed her responsibilities closely, making sure that they would reach their destination with no unforeseen accidents along the way.

Back home, Eishi obligingly popped open the door of the freezer compartment and pulled out the cellophane wrapped tray of chicken. He presented it to Hi’en, who nudged at the Styrofoam curiously with his beak before recoiling from it with disdain.

“No?” he asked the little griffin. His son peered at him briefly with his slit gold eyes before deciding that his father’s shirt buttons were much more interesting. He started to peck at one of them, trying to pry it off.

“I’ll defrost and cut the meat into smaller strips to see if he wants it,” Eishi spoke into the phone, shutting the freezer door and setting the packet of chicken on the counter to thaw. “I think we should find that anthropology professor at the university again and seek his opinion, just in case.”

Rindou grimaced at the thought of meeting the suspicious, twitchy man once more. She was pretty sure that the man was starting to suspect that something weird was going on with the overly insistent couple who kept asking him overly specific questions regarding the diets and behavioral patterns of legendary creatures that should not exist.

“Alright, if you feel that’s gonna help.” An excellent idea struck her. “Maybe En-chan would want fresh seafood instead. I can rustle up a waterspout and bring some catch of the day home!”

“…Please don’t do that.” Eishi was quick to shoot down the idea before his mate could run wild with it. The last time she did something similar in a misguided attempt at domesticity while harboring delusions of a homemade dinner, it rained fish intermittently over the city for an entire day. “The agency frowns upon that sort of power misuse and we don’t have enough fridge space.”

Rindou grumbled. What use were her powers even if she couldn’t apply them for little things like that?

“Come home soon,” Eishi continued. Their child lifted his head from where he had been gnawing at his father’s shirt and chimed in with an accompanying series of inquisitive peeps and chirps. “We’re looking forward to your safe return.”

Despite her disgruntlement, Rindou’s cheeks warmed happily. “Then I shall, since you asked so nicely.”

When two beings with the recessive mutated genome that gave them unique abilities produce an offspring, it is virtually guaranteed that their progeny would inherit the same metamorphosed DNA sequence as well. However, just because that peculiar gene had been passed down from parents to child did not mean that the latter would end up with the same type of ultra-abilities that either parental units had. As such, having children when one possessed superpowers was very much like entering a lucky draw.

There is an implicit understanding that there will be a special prize, but what it is exactly or how useful it will be is something entirely up in the air until the child’s powers finally chooses to establish themselves.

Even before the birth of their son, Eishi and Rindou had already decided on his name out of two reasons.

The first was for bond. Both parents were distinct air types and spent so much of their time in the skies that they might as well have been born birds themselves. They had flown together, fought together, courted, loved. Their mutual joy, their steadfast devotion to each other… Hi’en was the precious culmination of all this happiness.

The second was for blessing. It was the parents’ sincerest wish for their firstborn that he would always be able to fly as far and as freely as he wanted to, just like a brave and lithe swallow, unfazed and unhindered by all the challenges that he would ever meet in life.

When Hi’en’s powers initially manifested in an unexpected way that turned him into a firebird, his parents wondered if they had perhaps named him a bit too aptly. Even though the kanji ‘Hi’ in his name translated to ‘flight,’ it also shared the same pronunciation for the kanji that denoted ‘fire.’  

Regardless of the fact that their child’s abilities bore no similarities whatsoever with theirs, his parents remained endlessly delighted and fascinated with their strange little chick. All of his little milestones and progresses Eishi noted down meticulously and Rindou cheered for with pride and glee. Hi’en was developing physically and mentally faster than the average infant, though in all likelihood it was because he was switching forms so often. However, all that growing was exhausting for the young baby, and so he ate a lot, and then he slept a lot.

When Rindou returned that evening, it was to a quiet apartment with the lights dimmed. There was a flickering glow emanating from the living room, and when she exchanged her shoes for indoor ones at the genkan and went down the hallway, she discovered that the source of light was from the television, the volume muted so that only the images were playing across the screen. Eishi was sprawled out in the middle of the couch strewn all over with toys, his eyes closed, faintly, halfheartedly humming a lulling song. Curled against his chest was a little ball of fur and feathers, and the little thing must have tuckered himself out after running his father ragged all day, for he barely stirred even when his female parent approached and sank onto the adjacent cushions.

Eishi cracked opened one eye, sleepy lavender meeting quietly amused gold.

“…Okaeri,” he greeted his mate softly. He wasn’t exactly his usual neat, immaculate self. It appeared that even possessing the ability of accelerated thought process was no match to counter the sheer unpredictability of a small but determined infant. Eishi’s hair looked like he had run his hands through it several times that evening alone, his shirt was missing some buttons and partially untucked, and there were unidentifiable stains on his jeans and also on his collar. She thought that he looked manly and attractive all the same, exuding responsible daddy vibes, very irresistible.

“Tadaima,” she mouthed back. Her hand came up, fingers brushing over his crown, trying to help arrange the unrulier locks into some semblance of order. “Looks like you had a nice time with En-chan,” she drawled innocuously, trying not to grin at his visibly disheveled expression. She petted his hair affectionately, at the same time leaning in to brush her lips against his jaw. “You’ve worked hard today, papa~”

He silently tilted his head against hers, his arms already occupied cradling their child. Rindou’s gaze lowered onto where Hi’en was quietly sleeping. His fuzzy little face was barely visible, tucked under one downy front limb as he continued to doze, his little torso gently rising and falling with the cadence of his deep, steady breathing. Just looking at her son made her very happy, regardless of what form he chose to take. He was safe and protected, he was perfectly healthy, and he was growing up well. That was all that mattered.

“…Ah. I forgot the milk and eggs.”

Eishi’s eyes had closed again, and he leaned just a little more into her before she could move away.

“Let’s do that tomorrow… Stay.”

…So maybe she wasn’t the only one who felt a bit lonely now that they wouldn’t be able to take missions together, at least not in the immediate future.

She snuggled down beside him, this boy she loved first long before he gave her another to dote on and adore. Their family might be small and there were also times when it felt like they had no idea what they were doing, but to her, this was perfect.

“’Kay.”

Eishi: Accelerated Thought Process, Mid-Air Combat

Rindou: Gravity Manipulation, Primordial Air Manipulation

Hi’en: Mythical Bestiary, Electric-Fire Manipulation

Chouko: Faithifery, Existence Sense