#to be fair she still has Cat Claws so even when separated from all her loose weapons she still has sharp things at hand | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

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Panther Princess; T’Challa x child reader

*Author’s note*

Well this was a LONG time in the making, not only cause of motivation and time schedule wise but I wanted to make sure I GOT THIS FIC RIGHT since this is my first time writing for T'Challa since Chadwick's death last year (MAY HE RIP OUR KING!!!). Hope you guys enjoy this, and I’ve decided that after a few Wattpad requests I’ll open requests up here on Tumblr but there will be some MAJOR adjustments to what fandoms I’ll do. For now just be patient with me and eventually I will open requests here on Tumblr, I just don’t want to be overwhelmed.

Warnings: Malnourishment. abuse, terrorists involved (no action but just the word), some fluff.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@soy-guey

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

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It was in the dead of night when T’Challa received word about some smugglers were traveling with some stolen Vibranium, and word has it that they were working for Klaue. Even though he had been dead, Klaue’s business was still running and forging deals with terrorists groups and anti-government parties.

Him and Okoye were flying over towards the drop-off point where the dealers were gonna be exchanging their latest steal of Vibranium.

“The dealers that Klaus’ second Lt. Rosko Lannister is selling the Vibranium to come from an Iranian terrorist group.”

“As usual we will let them make their business transaction before taking any further action. After dealing with the terrorist group and Lannister is ours, he will be put under the same crimes as we would’ve given Klaue.” T’Challa told Okoye. She nodded as the jet continued to fly towards their destination.

It was just before sunset when at an old, abandoned warehouse Rosko Lannister and some of Klaue’s old men waited for their clients to arrive. Soon enough driving in the black SUV’s and Honda trucks, the Iranian terrorist group came out of their cars. Most of them were soldiers holding their AK-47’s close to their chest while out of the head van, 3 men dressed in full 3 piece suits exited the car.

They looked exactly alike for these three men were actually brothers. Two of them were twins and the other was a year younger than his older twin brothers. Hasim, Sami, and Achmed Israeli were the three leaders of the biggest terrorist group in the world. There was even record shown that they made deals with HYDRA back in the day. Mostly smuggled weapons and potential serums for super soldiers.

After the fall back in 2014 when both SHIELD and HYDRA were exposed, the brothers decided to go underground and disappear under the radar. The US and European governments have been trying to find them ever since but they are too clever and can easily cover their tracks both physically and wirelessly.

“The Israeli brothers. I can’t tell you how honored I am to be doing business with you.” Rosko praised.

“We didn’t come for praises. We came for the Vibranium. Do you have it?” the oldest twin brother Sami demanded.

“Getting down to business. That was one thing my former associate Klaue always appreciated. God rest his soul.” Rosko kissed his finger before raising them upward. “Nah I’m just kidding he was an arsehole, I’m actually glad he’s dead.” He changed his tune.

“The Vibranium. Do you have it or not!?” demanded the younger twin Hasim.

“Patience Hasim. Let the white man talk.” Sami eased his brother. Rosko turned to one of his guys and nodded. His left hand man let out a whistle and soon two men come carrying in a large box that was filled with the stolen Vibranium that Klaue had stowed away for himself.

The men set it down before the brothers and Achmed opened the case up to reveal the Vibranium they were looking for. A small smirk came across Sami’s face and he said.

“Excellent. The most powerful material in the universe.”

“It did come at personal cost from Klaue, better him than me. It’s worth billions. Hope you also kept your end of the deal. This transaction is only fair if both parties agree.” Hasim smirked cunningly and turned to his general.

He nodded and exclaimed in Muslim and before Rosko even knew it. Every single one of his men was shot dead by the Israeli brother’s soldiers, leaving only him alive.

Every gun was now turned on him and Rosko had no choice but to raise his hands slowly.

“True. But when dealing with terrorists you should’ve also realized that there is a price to pay. Especially if you’ve been followed.” Sami said. At this point Rosko was confused.

“What-what-what are you talking about?”

“I’ve been in this game for a long time Mr. Lannister, I’ve seen everything and heard it all. Superheroes, aliens, psychotic androids, even real life wizards. So don’t think for a second that your actions hasn’t risen suspicion to the one who rules the very place where you got this Vibranium from.” Sami closed the case and patted it before his brother Achmed took it and had it put in the truck.

“King T’Challa has no idea of this Vibranium that was stashed away. He’s recovered the traces of Vibranium that Klaue kept public. There’s no way he could know about this.”

“Clearly Klaue had a better game face than you Mr. Lannister. For he wouldn’t have revealed such an important fact to me.” At that moment Rosko knew he had been played by the brothers. Before he knew it, a bullet went straight into his head and he died right there.

“Surround the area. We don’t leave till the King is dead.” Ordered Achmed to his security team. The soldiers exclaimed Arabic commands as they surrounded the warehouse with their guns outward and ready to fire.

One guard in particular heard something move behind him and he quickly turned and fired three shots but didn’t hit anything but some old crates. His paranoia was getting the best of him and that’s what gave him away. He was suddenly grabbed by the back of his robes and lifted up and beaten till he collapsed to the floor unconscious.

2 more guards heard what was going on and went to check on their fallen soldier when a flash of a figure ran behind them. They quickly turned and fired their guns when suddenly T’Challa came down behind them, quickly disarmed them and knocked them unconscious.

As more of the brother’s security came in and they open fired on T’Challa, he merely walked towards the security before sprinting forward and disarming the rest of them. His claws tearing their guns apart, and using his quick ‘cat-like’ agility, he managed to take down the entire fleet.

“Israeli brothers!” he cried out. It was then Sami came out and T’Challa revealed his face to the eldest brother.

“King T’Challa. I must say it is an honor to be in your presence.” Sami mocked.

“Did you really believe we would be unaware of this trade?”

“On the contrary, I expected this all along. It was that witless white monkey Rosko who didn’t expect to see you. But never fear, he’s out of both of our hands.” Sami said nonchalantly as he looked down at his nails.

“If you surrender the stolen Vibranium to me, we can resolve this peacefully. But refuse, and you’ll face justice of Wakanda in Rosko Lannister’s stand. You and your brothers.”

“See my brothers and I made a pact. If we can’t escape the system, we’d be—how you say, judge jury and executioner to ourselves. And rather than rot in a cell separated, we shall join together in a blaze of glory. And we’re not afraid to take you with us, suffering the same fate as your own father did.” Sami raised his arms out like he was flying and waiting for a fiery explosion to happen.

But nothing came.

He opened his eyes to reveal that nothing had happened. It was then coming into the open space were Ayo and Okoye who had Sami’s younger brothers. Both men were bruised and battered up pretty badly. The two Dora Milaje members dropped his brothers down at his feet like trash and T’Challa said.

“I told you. This could’ve been resolved peacefully. But you forced our hand, especially when you had planned to blow up the place with all of us inside.” Sami growled but nonetheless raised his hands in surrender.

As the Dora Milaje were detaining the three brothers, T’Challa retrieved the stolen Vibranium when he heard something nearby. It sounded like chains, they had defeated all of the security, Rosko and his men were all shot by the Israeli brother’s defense, and the brothers were all detained so who else was here?

“My King?” Okoye asked.

“Stay here Okoye, I want to check something out.” He told his general of the Dora Milaje.

“My king, it could be another threat we do not yet know about. Let me come with you.”

“I’m not defenseless Okoye. Now you and Ayo just put the men on the ship and let me handle this. It could be some animal or the chains fell down off of something.” Okoye nodded to her king and soon T’Challa headed deeper into the warehouse.

As he explored every bit of it, he soon noticed that there appeared to be a hidden door within the walls that was very faintly cracked open. He opened the door and could hear the sound of the chains getting louder and louder.

It was almost like they were—pacing? They kept a constant rhythm as they would move about, in a circle pattern or something close to it. T’Challa slowly walked towards the direction of the chains and soon found what appeared to be a cage. A glass cage but it was inside that surprised the Wakandan King.

Inside the glass was a child. She appeared to be around the ages of 8-11 years old. Her hair was extremely long and madded like a lion’s mane. She looked malnourished so much so that you could almost see her bones. But for being malnourished, how could she have the energy to pace so frantically like she was now? He also noticed that there around her neck, wrists and ankles were chains keeping her inside.

T’Challa slowly walked out of the shadows and into the light where the child would be able to see him. She stopped her pacing and just stared at him curiously. T’Challa disengaged his full Black Panther suit so that he was in his normal clothes.

“I am not here to hurt you.” He gently told the child. The child slightly tilted their head like a lost puppy. “My name is T’Challa, what’s yours?” T’Challa slowly and slowly got closer and closer to her cage as he spoke in that soft voice of his. When she didn’t answer him he assured you, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I just want to be sure you’re okay.”

Suddenly in the blink of an eye, her (e/c) soon turned to a deep cat eye yellow. Her body shifted into a fairly young but still decent size panther and she lashed out at the cage, knocking T’Challa off his feet in slight fear. The child now standing before him as a full panther clawed and roared at the cage furiously.

“My King!” Ayo’s voice spoke in Xhosa and soon her and Okoye came in and when they saw the panther, they lifted up their spears in defense.

“Stand down!” T’Challa commanded them.

“But my king—this animal is feral. It was going to kill you.” Okoye reasoned with him but T’Challa told her.

“She is a human child. She shifted into this panther before my eyes. Look.” Soon enough the panther shrunk down and soon turned back into the young girl who was still pacing back and forth in her cage.

“What sorcery is this?” asked Ayo.

“Not magic. Science. Look closer at her arms.” T’Challa said. At the section of the arm on the other side of the elbow, they noticed dozens of needle injection scars.

“This child was experimented on.” Okoye said grimly with a horrified expression.

“What do we do my King?” asked Ayo. T’Challa looked at the child who was growling and trying to act scary even though she was no longer a panther anymore.

“We take her to Shuri. Maybe she can shed more light on the matter. Get her to the ship. But approach her cautiously. Don’t make any sudden movements.” Ayo and Okoye bowed their heads to their king and walked towards the cage.

The girl would hit her skeletal body up against the cage trying to rattle it and actually roared out a panther’s real roar, her teeth slowly growing into the large infamous canines of a real big cat. Okoye and Ayo then placed a hover bead on each end of the cage and soon the cage levitated just a few feet off the ground.

The little girl roared and began clawing at the glass but it hardly did anything as she was now being guided towards the ship.

When they reached Wakanda after dealing with the brothers, Shuri in her lab was going over the girl’s intel scan that she made of the girl from her cage with her kimoyo beads.

“So what is it you can find Shuri?” T’Challa said as he entered his sister’s lab.

“This may come as a surprise to you brother. But—she has no birth record at all. I’ve contacted some of my people in various places around the world to see if there has been any missing child and all of them have said no. My theory is that she may have been created from a test tube to look like this.”

“Any idea who could’ve made her?”

“The same organization that made the White Wolf into the Winter Soldier.”

“Hydra.” T’Challa said gravely. Shuri nodded.

“I hacked into their old files and it only confirms my theory. Seems like they wanted to create their own Cat-god or something.”

“Any records on what her powers are? She can shift into a panther but can she also shift into anything else?”

“I’m still digging through the files, there’s a lot of files that came to creating her. It’ll take time brother.” T’Challa nodded in understandment.

“Keep me updated.”

“Yes brother.” T’Challa walked away but he turned back towards the young girl and saw that she had briefly stopped her pacing to look at him once again.

A week later after finding the child, Shuri managed to dig up that HYDRA’s plan for the Child was for her to become their Agent Battle Cat. The ability to shift into a panther. She also has enhanced agility, speed, and strength.

However when HYDRA fell back in 2014, they were forced to abandon the project and she had been left alone in that warehouse ever since. Thinking about the enhancing experiments she must’ve been forced to endure or whatever genes they gave her, it allowed her to survive even being chained up in a cage for years on end until she felt like she needed to give up.

While being kept under his sister’s supervision, T’Challa also made it apparent to try and communicate with the Child, just to see if she could either understand or (in a rare case) speak in any language. The first time he had tried to talk to her well—let’s just say she ended up with broken nails and chipped teeth after trying to take a bite of T’Challa’s forearm when he activated his suit to protect his arm from her attack.

He had finally finished his royal civic duties for the day when he decided to try and talk to the Child again.

“You sure it’s a good idea brother? You did cause her to lose her nails and chipped some of her teeth.”

“I learned my lesson last time. But you weren’t there before that happened. She had actually dropped her guard and almost looked like she wanted to communicate with me. I think I’m getting through to her.”

“Okay brother. But if she attacks you again, I doubt that’ll sit well with Mother as well as Okoye and Ayo.”

“I will handle mama and the Dora Milaje. For now see to it that no one disturbs us.” Shuri nodded and told her workers to go home for now, leaving T’Challa and the Child alone.

T’Challa slowly approached her cage to see her lying down on her side licking her broken nails. Some of them had broken off by the top, while the rest had the entire nail broken leaving a bloody mess in it’s wake. She was currently licking her blood stained fingertips when she caught T’Challa’s scent.

She growled and hissed angrily at him, her canine fangs extended out and her eyes shifted into the cold, yellow panther eyes.

“Steady, steady. I’m not here to hurt you.” T’Challa sat down a few feet away from the cage and continued, “I am sorry for what happened to you. I was only protecting myself from getting hurt. It was my fault for overstepping my boundaries.” Her hissing ceased and she closed her mouth hiding her fangs but she would occasionally growl lowly, her tail coming out and twitching anxiously.

They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes when T’Challa said to her.

“You know, I’ve been thinking of a name for you. You know something to call you. I’m betting the men who created you never really gave you a real human name. What do you think about—Ariana?” the Child hissed. T’Challa chuckled, “Didn’t think so. Shuri said you might like it but now I can prove to her that I was right. Now for the real options, what about…….Nala?” the child tilted her head confused. “No? What about…..Diana?” she looked down and went back to licking her fingertips. “That won’t really help them heal. Sure it’ll clot the blood but it’s not that good for saliva to heal a wound like that.”

She looked up at T’Challa and growled lowly.

“I’m just trying to help. We have the medicine that’ll help you. I won’t lie it might sting for a brief second but it’ll help. Will you trust me with healing you, please?” the child looked between him and her fingers before slowly extending her arms out and she briefly nodded.

T’Challa then got some antiseptic and band-aids. He opened up a small section of the cage, just enough for her arms to come out.

“Thank you for your trust.” He then began to doctor her fingertips. She let out some painful roars on the stubbed fingertips that no longer had a nail anymore but at least this time she didn’t try to attack him like last time. He soothed her with calming phrases like ‘it’s okay. It’s won’t last long.’ And ‘Just relax, it’s almost over.’ After bandaging up her left pinkie finger he told her, “There, I’m done (Y/n).”

At hearing that name, she looked up at T’Challa curiously. Her tail perked up and the tip curled inward. T’Challa looked at her to see her tail fall limp to the cage floor. “(Y/n)?” her tail lifted up again and her head tilted curiously. “So you like that name eh?” She looked at T’Challa and her nose twitched as she was trying to sniff him through the glass.

Taking a risk, he slowly reached his hand into the cage once more like before. However this time he kept his hand in a downward position, so that his hand formed the shape of another cat’s nose. The Child slowly crept towards his hand and gave it a sniff, when she saw that he wasn’t moving his hand, she rubbed her head against his hand for a brief second before nuzzling underneath his palm so that it sat on top of her head.

He gently began scratching her scalp which caused her to let out soft comforting purrs. T’Challa smiled warmly and continued to gently give the child—well (Y/n) some more scritches and pets.

“Don’t you worry (Y/n). I promise I won’t allow anyone else to harm you in any shape or form.”

The next couple of months after getting her body weight back to normal and healing any other wounds she had maintained, T’Challa allowed (Y/n) to venture outside the palace with him. Thinking the city itself was too much for her right now, he decided to take her out to the Border tribe so that she could see the outside world for the first time in her life.

Needless to say she was overwhelmed but she was happy to feel the grass beneath her feet, see the beautiful landscape, and hear all the sounds of the outside world from the animal calls to some of the Border tribe members talking with each other.

“Seems she’s getting along well.” Okoye observed (Y/n) who was cautiously watching the rhinos from their pins.

“Slowly but surely she is. Walking on two feet is still a bit of a challenge but she’ll get there eventually.” T’Challa told her.

“At least she’s learned to not attack you.”

“It was one time Okoye, be nice.”

“As your General it is my duty—”

“I understand your duty General. But you must also know that there will be times you can’t protect me. And this attack was very minor compared to the fights I’ve been in before.” It was then T’Challa saw (Y/n) now focusing her attention on some birds that had just landed a few feet away from the rhino pins. Her panther instincts kicked in as she got into pouncing position, her pupils were fully blown and her shoulder blades flexed over one another as her butt raised higher and higher in the air.

Finally she raced forward and the birds immediately took off flying. She leaped well over 7ft in the air and managed to capture a bird in her claws and delivered a fatal bite. She then raced over to T’Challa and presented him the dead bird.

She placed it on the ground before his feet and backed away before tilting her head with a happy smile on her face.

“Seems she has a gift for you my King.” Okoye said. T’Challa grimaced at the gift but he quickly smiled down at her and knelt down in front of her.

“I appreciate the gift (Y/n). But—we cannot keep this bird kept within a cage. Like how I freed you, we must also allow this bird to move onto the next life.” He dug into the earth for a small shallow grave, just big enough for the bird and he placed the bird into the makeshift grave. He buried it under the earth and he sent a brief prayer to Bast in Wakandan. “Right, now let’s head back to the palace. I have a meeting with M’Baku about reforging our alliance and allowing the Jabari tribe into the council.”

Okoye and T’Challa walked ahead when they heard something behind them. At first they thought it was one of the goats but it sounded to hoarse to be one of them. They slowly turned around and saw (Y/n) with a hand over the grave of the bird and she was saying.

“Ba……Ba.”

“Is she……?” Okoye started.

“Ba.” (Y/n) was trying to talk! She was trying to say the Cat goddess Bast’s name. She managed to get out the first constant and vowel but she couldn’t figure out how to do her S and T.

“Her first time talking. She’s trying to say Bast’s name.” T’Challa knelt down and he asked her, “(Y/n), are you trying to give a prayer to Bast?”

“Ba!” she exclaimed again. T’Challa was overjoyed on the inside that the girl he had decided to take under his wing and raise was finally trying to talk. Many of the tutors he and Shuri had growing up had given up saying that she was incapable of speaking because all she did was just hiss and growl as well as throw things at them before laughing like a deranged hyena.

“Here I’ll help you say her name.” he adjusted himself so that he sat down and he placed his hand right next to hers and he said slowly so that she could see how his lips did it. “Say Bast.”

“Ba.”

“Bast.”

“Ba.” T’Challa shook his head.

“Watch me carefully. Bast.” He enunciated the t at the end. (Y/n) growled lowly before taking a deep inhale and finally exclaiming.

“BAST!”

“Yes. Yes that’s it! You did it (Y/n) great job!” at seeing T’Challa’s excitement, (Y/n) began to repeat Bast’s name gleefully as she pranced around.

“A little cocky there isn’t she?” Okoye muttered.

“Let her have this moment Okoye. Besides probably hunting and killing, this is her first real big achievement. A normal milestone.”

“I suppose so.” She agreed. Even though she might not have wanted to admit it, she thought it was adorable how little (Y/n) was finally able to speak a human language and become so happy with herself that she would prance around like a yearling antelope.

Over the next couple of years, (Y/n) continued to not only advance in her human speaking skills, but she now began to show signs of aging. She went from that small child to now almost a young adult woman in just 2 years since finding her. Seemed with the animal enhancement, it also increased her human aging with each time she grew stronger and tougher.

T’Challa continued to raise her as his own and pretty soon all of Wakanda looked at her as their young Princess. Shuri loved hanging out with (Y/n) and teaching her everything there was to know about science and technology. She even took her as an apprentice in her lab. Okoye eventually came around and soon saw (Y/n) as a member of the royal family and took it upon herself to train her like a Dora Milaje so that she could defend herself without the need of her animal powers.

For she was the Panther Princess.

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warriorsbutnotreally · 3 years

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Firepaw Joins ShadowClan AU

firstly, hard agree that he's taken as kit

secondly, uh

fair warning

there is heavy amounts of child abuse mentioned here

as this is ShadowClan under Brokenstar's rule.

This starts with Rusty / Firepaw only being 4 moons old and being made an apprentice at a young age

with that said

Rusty is out playing in his yard, having recently been adopted by his twolegs and getting use to his territory.

Even now he's curious about the forest

One day he hears talking near his fence and he sneaks out of his yard. He finds a group of cats making plans [specifically to steal kits]. He doesn't understand what they're talking about, but they spot him.

He's almost attacked by one of the toms [Clawface] in the group when a she-cat - Fernshade - stops her Clanmate. Being a current queen she appears to be sympathetic to the kit.

Clawface isn't impressed, but the other tom in the group, Blackfoot, states that a kit is a kit.

Rusty is confused and immediately becomes frighten when Blackfoot holds and down and roughly pulls off the collar.

He has no clue what's going on and neither tom is answering his questions. Fernshade is sent back to camp with Rusty, since she was supposed to be the first one sent back anyway, and she brings the kit into ShadowClan's camp. Fernshade answers some of his questions, but dodges the ones where he asks why she's doing this [specifically she answers where she's taking him and who the other cats were and his questions about ShadowClan]

He is brought before Brokenstar and is terrified of this tom. Fernshade comforts him, stating that their leader will make him a strong cat.

Fernshade explains where they found Rusty and Brokenstar doesn't seem too impressed. However, he still accepts that Rusty is now one of them.

Fernshade is excused to the nursery.

Blackfoot and Clawface eventually come back with four more kittens; a black she-cat, a tortoiseshell tom, a tricolor she-cat, and a white she-cat. The latter two were littermates stolen from a loner and aren't even a moon old, while the first two were stolen from separate kittypet homes. The black she-cat seems nervous and scared and is about 3 moons old. The tortoiseshell tom is about the same age as Rusty and he has to be held down to prevent him from trying to claw Clawface.

Brokenstar stand tall and makes an announcement; he tells the cats that ShadowClan is becoming stronger and they will continue to grow thanks to these new cats

Rusty, the black she-cat, and the tortoiseshell tom are made apprentices right away and are given the names Firepaw, Nightpaw, and Wildpaw. They are mentored by Blackfoot, Nightpelt, and Brokenstar respectively. Wildpaw does not like this. The kits are named Ivykit and Whitekit and are given to the nursery to be cared for until they're 'ready'.

Firepaw has many questions for Blackfoot and it's clear Blackfoot regrets this arrangement.

Blackfoot, Nightpelt, and Brokenstar take the apprentices out to see the territory and while they're out they encounter a ThunderClan patrol.

A fight breaks out and Firepaw is forced to fight despite having no experience.

ShadowClan loses the fight and the apprentices are punished by now being allowed to eat.

They are also shown how to hunt and spend the rest of the day, until late at night, hunting. They are closely supervised by Blackfoot, Nightpelt, Applefur, and Russetfur.

Firepaw is tired and passes out as soon as they return to camp.

He doesn't get much rest as Brokenstar demands the apprentices wake up and all of them are gathered for battle practice.

Here Firepaw meets the other apprentices - Whitepaw, Quickpaw, Ratpaw [Ratscar], and Snowpaw [Snowbird]

A couple of the other apprentices are nervous while others are excited. Firepaw, Nightpaw, and Wildpaw all watch in horror at the absolutely brutal and bloody fights these apprentices are forced into.

Firepaw is forced to fight Quickpaw, who is a stolen kit like himself. Firepaw has no fighting experience and Quickpaw has been here for at least a couple moons.

Quickpaw ends up tearing off one of Firepaw's ears and slashes him up pretty badly, but running of pure instinct and adrenaline, Firepaw manages to fight back and eventually has Quickpaw pinned.

All the grown warriors cheer and demand that Blazepaw kill them.

Quickpaw doesn't wanna die and begs for their life.

Firepaw can't bring himself to kill them and is removed from the fight. He thinks its over, only for Wildpaw to be shoved forward instead. Brokenstar vaguely threatens Wildpaw and when that doesn't work, he vaguely threatens Ivykit and Whitekit.

Wildpaw hesitates before turning to Quickpaw. He ends up killing them. Immediately he is regretful, even as Brokenstar gives him high praise. Wildpaw goes back to sit with the apprentices and he's staring at his paws the entire time.

Another apprentice, Whitepaw, is told that it's time to prove he's ready to be a warrior. He only appears to be about 7 moons old.

Whitepaw is pitted against another apprentice and is, like Firepaw and Wildpaw, pressured to kill them.

He does and Brokenstar proudly makes him a warrior on the spot, giving him the name Whitethroat.

Whitethroat beams in the moment, but even Firepaw can see that there's regret seeping through him.

Blazepaw is sent to the medicine cat den by Blackfoot and meets Yellowfang and Runningnose. They heal him up and he is thankful towards them. Yellowfang seems heartbroken at him being here and he doesn't understand why.

As soon as he's patched up, even if he isn't healed, Blackfoot takes Firepaw out and the two do battle training. Firepaw is taught basic moves and Blackfoot states after training that now the apprentice couldn't make a fool of him anymore.

Firepaw is a little wounded by the words, but he does want to make him proud.

Firepaw starts training harder, but even still cannot force himself to kill any cats. He notices Nightpaw is struggling with it as well and that Wildpaw has gone quiet since killing Quickpaw.

A moon passes and Firepaw is taken to his first gathering. Littlepaw, Brownpaw, Wetpaw, and Badgerpaw are also now apprentices.

There he sees the other Clans and he's in awe at the amount of cats. Blackfoot warns Firepaw not to talk to them about any of his training and that ThunderClan cannot be trusted.

Firepaw remembers his first encounter with ThunderClan and believes his mentor

Firepaw meets some of the other apprentices; Ravenpaw, Dustpaw, and Sandpaw of ThunderClan [whom he doesn't get along with them well and Dustpaw even tries to pick a fight with him] Webpaw and Runningpaw of WindClan [who Blackfoot tells him are cowardly and weak] Heavypaw, Shadepaw, and Silverpaw [Silverstream] [who he's informed are lazy and self-righteous]

The gathering is fairly tame, but afterwards, Brokenstar gets Tallstar alone and tries to pressure him for territory

Tallstar says no

Brokenstar gives him one more chance

He doesn't take it

Brokenstar isn't thrilled with this and tells Tallstar that he'll regret not taking his offer.

The apprentices return and, despite it being late, are put into another battle practice.

Thankfully no cat dies this time around, but Nightpaw is pretty badly wounded after a fight with Ratpaw.

Ratpaw earns his name Ratscar after their fight

Nightpaw is taken to the medicine cat den.

The next day the apprentices are taken out hunting with the warriors. Brokenstar isn't with them, instead having left with Mintkit and Marigoldkit.

When the cats return, they encounter Yellowfang's exile and she is chased out of the territory. When questions are asked, they learn that Yellowfang killed the two kits.

Everyone is in shock.

Firepaw remembers Ivykit and Whitekit and goes to check on them. He is happy to find the two are okay.

He then also goes to check on Nightpaw and finds she's fast asleep in the medicine cat den. She had no clue what happened, but doesn't believe Yellowfang killed those kits. She honestly thought Yellowfang was nice

Firepaw isn't sure what to believe and he's worried for what this means for the Clan.

After another moon of training and fighting, Firepaw watches as Snowpaw becomes Snowbird. He is close to Nightpaw and Badgerpaw and he tries to be close with Wildpaw, but Wildpaw has been pushing everyone away.

Early one morning, Brokenstar makes the announcement that they're going to be attacking WindClan and taking over their territory.

Many cats are excited. Firepaw has mixed feelings.

Wildpaw is pretending to be enthused when Brokenstar looks at him, but this falls away the moment the leader looks away.

The worry for Wildpaw grows.

Badgerpaw is excited to finally be able to prove himself a good apprentice and Firepaw is happy for him, though he can't deny that Badgerpaw still looks very young and kit-like and he's not sure if this is a good idea.

Firepaw is sent out with the first wave of cats during the attack. He wants to make Blackfoot proud, but when the patrol of cats starts fighting, he realizes that some of the cats are going after the queens and kits.

He doesn't like this.

He's fighting Deadfoot, the deputy, when he sees a full grown WindClan warrior about to attack Badgerpaw He tries to abandon his fight, but Deadfoot won't let him get away and he's a witness of Badgerpaw's death.

Firepaw is horrified now and he kicks Deadfoot away and runs to join Flintfang. The two mourn the loss of the young tom.

WindClan is driven off and Flintfang gets Firepaw alone and tells the apprentice to not allow this injustice to stand. Flintfang specifically refers to Badgerpaw as Badgerfang.

Firepaw promises as he can't shake the thought of Badgerpaw's death. He has nightmares that night of being unable to save the young tom.

The next day Brokenstar takes the apprentices out training. He uses Wildpaw as his training partner, to show the best ways to kill cats, and he pretends to kill Wildpaw

Training continues and Wildpaw drags Firepaw and Nightpaw to the side. He's stressed. He admits Brokenstar was openly threatening him just then because he started challenging his mentor and he informs them that, if he dies Blame Brokenstar.

This is a lot to take in.

The next few days of training are rough and Firepaw ends up having to be sent to the medicine cat den after Brownpaw slashes open his shoulder.

While recovering a couple days later, he learns that Brownpaw died

He's still shocked, despite him hurting him

When he gets sent back to the apprentice's den, he learns Nightpaw has been having some pretty bad nightmares. He and Wildpaw come together to comfort her.

A couple moons pass and at this point a couple more cats had been stolen, only for them to not make it long before either running away or dying. Firepaw is worried about his future and the future of his friends

That gathering, he doesn't go. He stays behind with Wildpaw, but Nightpaw is dragged along by Clawface.

The two fall asleep waiting for her - the three taking to having their nests very close to each other. They are waken up by a shaken Nightpaw, who explains that Brokenstar is demanding territory from ThunderClan and RiverClan. She does add more relieved news that she's sure Yellowfang is alive and well, though she's unsure for how long.

The next day Firepaw and Blackfoot are sent to hunt on WindClan's old territory with a full hunting patrol. While out, Firepaw sees Bluestar of ThunderClan, a couple of her warriors [Tigerclaw and Darkstripe], and an apprentice.

Curious, he sneaks away and watches as Tigerclaw goes to the moonstone with Bluestar while Darkstripe waits outside with the apprentice.

After a minute of dull watching, he's about to leave when he hears the apprentice yowl

He turns to see Darkstripe is trying to kill the apprentice and, without thinking, Firepaw races over and attacks Darkstripe. The fight draws Blackfoot's attention and the warrior manages to stop them before Darkstripe can attempt to kill Firepaw.

Blackfoot warns Darkstripe that if he sees the warrior lay another paw on his apprentice, that he'll personally rip his tail off and tear his pelt apart

Firepaw is surprised to hear this coming from Blackfoot and, when they're alone, Blackfoot warns Firepaw not to tell anyone he stood up for him

Firepaw promises, but he still feels happy

When Blackfoot asks what happened, Firepaw remembers and tries to find the ThunderClan apprentice, but he can't locate him. He tells Blackfoot and he mentions having spotted a young cat running away from the fight, though he hadn't been heading towards Clan territory.

Firepaw asks permission to find this apprentice and Blackfoot reluctantly allows it. He says he's heading back to camp and to return as soon as possible.

He heads off and, after some sniffing around, Firepaw finds the tom.

After some assuring and being patient and gentle, Firepaw introduces himself and learns the apprentice's name is Ravenpaw.

The two talk for a bit and Firepaw ends up learning that Darkstripe was trying to kill him to silence him. Firepaw asks why and but Ravenpaw is afraid to open up.

Firepaw is sympathetic and Ravenpaw admits he's surprised to find a nice ShadowClan cat. Firepaw admits cats in ShadowClan are rough and show affection in a strange way, but he has some good friends there.

Ravenpaw wishes he could feel the same

Firepaw invites Ravenpaw to move to ShadowClan, but Ravenpaw expresses doubt.

He doesn't want Ravenpaw returning to where cats are trying to kill him and Ravenpaw doesn't want to, either, but he isn't sure if he sees ShadowClan as a better option.

Ravenpaw chooses to stay hiding out here for a bit and Firepaw lets him go.

When Firepaw returns to camp, he sees Brokenstar preparing a patrol. They're going to raid ThunderClan camp and Firepaw and Wildpaw are forced to go.

The two toms are tasked with helping Clawface and Blackfoot steal ThunderClan's kits, which shocks Firepaw.

They cats break into ThunderClan and the fight begins while Bluestar, Tigerclaw, and Darkstripe are still away. Blackfoot engages in a fight with Yellowfang and while she's distracted, Firepaw and Wildpaw break into the nursery. The queens are outside fighting warriors and the two apprentices see the kits.

Firepaw doesn't want to do this

Wildpaw doesn't want to do this, either, but he's more afraid of what Brokenstar would do to him - or worse, Firepaw and Nightpaw.

Firepaw is shocked to hear how much Wildpaw worries about the two of them and Wildpaw shuts up and tells Firepaw quietly that they should just grab the kits.

They're about to grab them, when Frostfur comes in and attacks the two. A fight breaks out and the two end up pushing the fight with her outside.

Frostfur manages to pin Wildpaw and, in a panicked reaction to being pinned down, Wildpaw lashes out and ends up cutting Frostfur's throat open.

A retreat is called by ShadowClan and the two stumble out. Wildpaw is celebrated for his killing of the ThunderClan queen, even without the kits, and Wildpaw hates it.

When the two are alone, Firepaw asks what happened and Wildpaw brings up how Brokenstar had threatened him and how he had been pinned down in the same manner with the leader threatening to slice open his belly

Wildpaw starts to have a breakdown and Firepaw tries to comfort him, but Wildpaw is going through a lot

Later that night, Brokenstar calls a meeting and Wildpaw is made a warrior. He is given the name Wildfur. During the same ceremony, Ivykit and Whitekit are made apprentices. Whitepaw is given to Wildfur and Ivypaw is given to Snowbird.

Everyone but Firepaw and Nightpaw congratulate him.

Wildfur is moved into the warriors den but Nightpaw and Firepaw keep their nests close.

The next day, ShadowClan is preparing for another attack. They make plans and are leaning towards a more stealthy approach.

Clawface and Firepaw are sent in to steal the kits.

While the two are sneaking into the nursery, they are confronted by Spottedleaf. Firepaw is about to try to reason with her when Clawface kills her right there.

He says ShadowClan doesn't reason with ThunderClan and tells Firepaw that if he shuts up, he'll tell Brokenstar that it's time to make him and Nightpaw warriors.

Firepaw doesn't like this idea, but is more afraid of Clawface killing him to argue.

He helps steal Brightkit, Cinderkit, Brackenkit, and Thornkit. Firepaw, since they have the extra paws, also manages to snag Lynxkit while they're there.

The five kits are brought back to ShadowClan and ShadowClan is excited for the kits. Brokenstar holds a ceremony right then and makes Firepaw and Nightpaw into warriors named Fireheart and Nightwing.

Fireheart is given Lynxkit - now Lynxpaw - as an apprentice while the other four are placed into the nursery for a moon.

Lynxpaw is resentful towards Fireheart.

Fireheart promises it's nothing personal, but this does little to help how angry Lynxpaw is.

It's later that day that a ThunderClan patrol and the ShadowClan elders raid ShadowClan's camp. Bluestar and Yellowfang are leading them and the fight gets confusing quickly.

Lynxpaw tries to join his Clanmates - his ThunderClan Clanmates - in the fight, but is snagged by Brokenstar. He kills the apprentice right in front of Bluestar, who growls and lashes out at the ShadowClan leader.

Fireheart is in shock.

Brokenstar is, eventually, chased away with Tangleburr, Blackfoot, Clawface, Applefur, and Stumpytail.

Nightpelt steps up to lead the Clan and names Cinderfur as his deputy.

Fireheart aids Nightpelt in helping those in need, though his focus is turned on ThunderClan, as he noticed some odd things going on.

Though he knows he should be focusing on his own Clan, he noticed during the rescue that this one cat was staring at his own leader with a look that reminded him of Brokenstar

sometime between here and then, ThunderClan sends their oldest apprentices and Whitestorm to save WindClan. The apprentices are made warriors when they return - Sandstorm, Dustpelt, and Graystripe. Ravenpaw is still 'missing'

One day he just happens to be near the thunderpath when he sees a sickly molly near the thunderpath and realizes it's ThunderClan's leader.

She's about to be hit by a monster when he comes out of hiding and rescues her.

Bluestar is shocked and confused and Fireheart apologizes for the sudden rescue, he just didn't want to see any needless death.

Tigerclaw 'stumbles' across them and attacks Fireheart. Bluestar stops him and Tigerclaw states, simply, that he was just trying to protect Bluestar, as he had assumed this ShadowClan warrior was attacking her

Fireheart sees them off, earning a silent glare from Tigerclaw

Fireheart then realizes this cat has darker motives

He tells himself not to get involved, that he's a loyal ShadowClan warrior, but he's stuck thinking about these cats.

Fireheart spends some time visiting Ravenpaw, who has been wandering around for some time. He offers Ravenpaw a home in ShadowClan again and Ravenpaw is still unsure.

Fireheart promises Brokenstar is gone, but Ravenpaw isn't worried about Brokenstar anymore.

He asks what he's so afraid of and Ravenpaw finally tells him about what happened between ThunderClan and RiverClan and how Tigerclaw killed Redtail, who had once been deputy.

Fireheart has vague memories of who Redtail is and is surprised to hear he was murdered by his own Clanmate.

He offers to protect the tom personally and he can see that Ravenpaw is tempted by the offer.

He heads home and talks with Nightstar, mentioning how he's worried for this cat. Nightstar isn't sure how well ShadowClan can offer safety but Fireheart assures he'll personally protect this cat if he joins.

Nightstar agrees only on those conditions.

Fireheart then spends time waiting for Ravenpaw's answer, staying close with Wildfur and Nightwing as he waits.

The three still stick close and have been helping each other the best they can with the trauma.

When Fireheart brings up wanting to bring Ravenpaw to ShadowClan, Wildfur is a little on edge. Fireheart is confused on why and Wildfur admits he doesn't trust anyone but Fireheart and Nightwing. That and the younger cats.

Fireheart is understanding towards this, but assures Ravenpaw is a good cat who is going through something similar to them.

Wildfur is confused, admitting he doesn't think ThunderClan has a single cat who'd be able to hurt others like Brokenstar and his group hurt them

Fireheart brings up Tigerclaw and repeats what Ravenpaw had told him.

Nightwing says that she had seen the tabby on a border patrol and he seemed nice enough. Fireheart doesn't believe Ravenpaw has any reason to lie, especially since a Clanmate was trying to kill him when he first met him.

After time, Ravenpaw finally gives Fireheart his answer

He's joining ShadowClan.

Nightstar gives Ravenpaw to Cinderfur and assures it'll only be for a couple moons to assure loyalty

Ravenpaw is soon brought into the friend group, though Wildfur still has his concerns.

However, when a warrior begins harassing Ravenpaw, Wildfur is quick to stand up for the nervous tom and becomes a protective force of nature.

[at this point my brain went blank and I might skip over some things cause I'm having a lot of bad health days back to back; also Fireheart mentors Oakpaw / Oakfur, I forgot to mention that]

Ravenpaw earns the warrior name Ravenheart around the time that ShadowClan learns that Brokenstar is still alive.

Wildfur is the angriest when ShadowClan learns ThunderClan is sheltering Brokenstar / Brokentail. He swears to break into their camp and kill the foxheart himself.

When Brokentail and his rogues attack ThunderClan, Fireheart and a ShadowClan patrol overhear. He convinces Nightwing and Wildfur to come with him, but no one else wants to. He is warned by Wetfoot, who is with them, to be careful and remember they're ShadowClan cats.

Fireheart assures he knows, but something is calling him to help these cats.

Wetfoot ends up telling no one and just waiting for them.

Fireheart ends up saving Bluestar from Tigerclaw and Wildfur is stopped from killing Brokenstar by Yellowfang, but is witness as she kills him herself. He is the only one who knows her secret and he promises to keep it, though he doesn't forgive her for sheltering him.

She understands.

It should also be noted that her apprentice is Brackenpaw [since Bracken and Cinder weren't apprenticed early since they had no reason to be]

Tigerclaw is chased out and ShadowClan falls sick

Nightwing and Ravenheart are two of the cats that have fallen sick and Fireheart is desperate for help

Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw secretly help ShadowClan and Fireheart is thankful, though he doesn't want the two getting in trouble

Brackenpaw assures he won't

During this point of weakness, Tigerclaw tries to join ShadowClan and Fireheart recognizes him right away

Tigerclaw is trying to smooth-talk the sick leader but Fireheart counters and even brings in Ravenheart [with his permission]

When Tigerclaw realizes who he is, the dark tabby tries to sow seeds of doubt towards the ginger tabby. Nightstar chooses to trust Fireheart, which is a relief.

Nightstar also doesn't allow the traitors to return.

When Nightstar and Cinderfur die, Fireheart is named the new leader and becomes Firestar. Meanwhile, over in ThunderClan, their deputy is Whitestorm. He'll become Whitestar and his deputy will be his mate, Willowpelt. [much later, when she decides to step down, Sandstorm becomes his new deputy.]

ShadowClan is a little on edge on having an outside leader, though they are reminded that a lot of their cats are former outsiders. Especially the generation Brokenstar brought in.

[speedpointing cause i'm still feeling terrible, not even better and this has been a WIP for a while]

Ravenheart, Wildfur, Nightwing, and Firestar become mates. They are a polycule. Ivypaw and Whitepaw become Ivytail and Whitewater.

Tigerclaw and his cats had joined BloodClan, but Scourge killed him before going to the forest and being like "we own this now"

The cats are shocked

BloodClan starts doing targeted attacks on patrols

This leads up to the big fight

A couple days before the big fight, Scourge gets Firestar alone and gives him one chance to join BloodClan.

Firestar refuses.

Scourge is disappointed.

It turns out Scourge has gone to the other leaders, too. Leopardstar and Tallstar are actually considering it.

Firestar and Whitestar convince them not to. It takes a lot of convincing.

The four Clans come together and fight BloodClan.

Firestar loses one life to Scourge. Whitestar loses one to Bone and one to Scourge.

Firestar kills Scourge.

And

some random 'after fact' notes

Firestar is approached by Tawnypaw and Bramblepaw and want to join ShadowClan. He allows this and he and his polycule become backup parents and are the first 'kits' of them.

They later on have two other litters; Redtuft, Maplepool, Smokepaw, and Talonpaw [aka Squirrelfight, Leafpool, Smokepaw, and Talonpaw] sired by Firestar [Redtuft is a mostly red tortoiseshell while Maplepool is also a tortoiseshell, but her pattern is more evenly distributed; Talonpaw is a ginger tom] and Emberfur and Tinykit sired by Wildfur

Bramblepaw and Tawnypaw becomes Bramblefang and Tawnypelt. Bramblefang ends up moving to RiverClan to be with Stormfur as they two become mates on the great journey.

When Wildfur becomes paralyzed, Littlecloud and Maplepool fight tooth and claw to keep him alive. He is thankful.

Maplepool ends up in a relationship with Sorreltail of ThunderClan and [however you wanna headcanon how] the two end up having three kits; Badgerkit, a black and white tom Wildkit, a dark ginger tom Honeykit, a calico she-cat who looks a lot like her mother They grow up to become Badgerheart, Wildclaw, and Honeypool. [they take the place of Jayfeather, Lionblaze, and Hollyleaf]

sorry this took so long and i'm doing my best to fight through my lung problems to get some stuff out here to you all

i hope you all enjoyed

#au #firestar #fireheart #nightstar #nightpelt #blackfoot #brokenstar #wildfur #nightwing #ravenpaw #warriors #warrior cats #i had fun #it just #took forever #cause trying to have motivation #is hard rn #i'm at a constant low energy state

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spideychelleforever · 3 years

Text

Somehow, MJ had found herself in a multiverse spanning adventure with her boyfriend and what she assumed was the most powerful sorcerer in the world. To be honest, as smart as she was, the staggering enormity of the fact she was traveling through other universes, and the fact that her own - one where she had lived a happy childhood, where she watched VHS’s with her mom and dad all day, where her biggest concern was not getting more applesauce, where the scariest thing was her room before she got Christmas lights hung over her bed - was just ONE universe out of countless others?

It was more than she wanted to really process. So she was doing her best to roll with it.

Peter, ever the eternal spring of happiness and light, even if it was his own coping mechanism, was unbothered, and all he did was smile at her and keep holding her hand and staying close to her wherever she, him, and Strange went. She wasn’t religious, but God bless him? He had a way of trying to make her feel safe, even if he didn’t succeed in it, and it just reminded her all over again how she’d been in love with him since he was a curly haired, baby fat-carrying dork who was friendly to her on her first day of school with him.

But, nonetheless, through the multiverse they went. Seeing all kinds of terrible things, some of them mundane things. She got to meet other versions of herself. One Michelle Jones was a successful, rich artist, who provided her husband with a lot of financial backing for his superheroics. One Michelle Jones was a cat-themed vigilante who had a particularly fiery, passionate relationship with Peter. One Michelle Jones was super fat. One Michelle Jones was Spider-Woman, and Peter was her small, meek sidekick. Another had taken the super soldier serum out of desperation and was now Captain America. Another had been with the Avengers throughout the Snap and the Blip while Peter had still died and came back. MJ lost track of how many Michelle Jones’ she met.

But the one thing they all had in common, which started having a profound effect on the temperature in her chest, was that they all were with their Peter Parker. His exact appearance and personality differed a bit in each universe, but it was still recognizably the same Peter Parker who told her he really liked her on the bridge in London. The same smile, the same hair, the same sweetness. And in every single universe, he loved his respective Michelle Jones.

It started doing things to her head, you know? Seeing the same thing play out in all these different universes. Yes, they had already met a Peter Parker who was with a Mary Jane Watson, and a Peter Parker who was with a Gwen Stacy, both of whom were older than her Peter. But seeing this? That in countless universes, Peter Parker and Michelle Jones were still very much in love despite everything, despite everything she had done in the years prior to the Europe trip that had been done seemingly to sabotage her own happiness?

It was unreal.

And it made her soft.

Inevitably, something went wrong, however. Some enemy from the multiverse attacked and she and Peter were separated from Strange. Their instincts told them to stay put, knowing Strange was the most qualified to find them and not the other way around. At this point, they were in the empty apartment of… themselves? MJ could see pictures framed or on the wall of their variants. It was still recognizably them, but again, there were minor differences.

They were eating some ramen noodle cups when they heard a knock at the door. Eying each other warily, the pair slowly went to the peephole - MJ took point since she was taller, ha - and MJ slowly turned back to him, startled.

“Who is it?” Peter asked.

“… it’s you,” MJ mumbled.

They opened the door, and another Peter Parker variant was standing there.

And another.

Soon the apartment was filled with far more than just one Peter Parker. Thankfully, her Peter had a distinctive scar on his cheek from a recent fight with Doc Ock, so she wouldn’t lose track. But being in a room with much, much more Peter than she was used to? That was a lot.

They all talked over each other, trying to figure out what was going on. Talk of portals and villains and where their Michelle Jones was. Soon talk shifted to how long they’d been with their respective Michelle. What she liked to do, what she liked to eat, their favorite memories. So then they all turned their attention to Michelle herself, and asked if she was okay.

This was-a fucking lot. Michelle stared wide-eyed. Attention was never something she was great at. And she still had… issues over the fact that she was getting it from the boy she’d pined after for so many years. And now she was getting attention from all these Peter’s?!?

“No, I’m NOT!” MJ shouted. And soon it was all out in the open. She couldn’t even process how heartbreaking it was to see the pain in each Peter’s face, least of all her own, at seeing her angrily rant and stress about the situation. About how she wanted to forget there was a multiverse, about how she just wanted to go home and live a safe life with her Peter again. It just wasn’t fair, and soon she was sniffling.

No Peter made a move except for her own. The one who had been nice to her on their first day of school. “Can I touch you?”

Through her tears, MJ stiffly nodded, and melted into his embrace, smiling weakly when she felt a peck on her cheek.

“What can I do, to make you feel better?”

MJ didn’t answer.

That is, until he said something that changed her.

“We could have sex?”

MJ stared at him blankly.

Yes, they’d been active before this all started. But… actually, that sounded better than she had expected. Much, much better.

MJ eventually slowly nodded. And she betrayed herself by glancing around the room of Peter’s.

Peter slightly raised an eyebrow, his smile turning a little smug. “Did you have a crazy idea?”

MJ couldn’t answer as she looked back at him.

Peter shrugged. “Well, they’re all me.”

MJ didn’t respond.

****

Nine hours.

Nine hours passed after Peter affirmed the other Peter Parker’s were all him.

And Michelle Jones had seemingly lost track of everything since then.

Never in her life had she expected to see not one, but at least a dozen nearly identical set of naked Peter Parker’s all ready to pleasure her. To take care of her. To caress her, to tease her, to do things to her that made her feel like a goddess. A goddess of gluttony and lust who was pleasured by all she wanted.

She hadn’t expected to become nearly hysterical. Okay, well, her and Peter’s first time she did get pretty worked up - she’d been wanting her boy for years, of COURSE she got loud, okay?! - but this was different. She’d been hoarse after her nights with Peter, but she could barely speak. She had never expected to be pleasured by twelve times the “old webshooter” than she was used to. And she never expected so many of his toned arms, his thick and muscular calves, his washboard abs, his rock solid chest, to be on her. And she couldn’t get enough.

She was so greedy she surprised herself. She kept reaching and clawing for more, and more, and more. If this was cake she was desperately clawing for more of, she’d be the fattest Michelle Jones variant in the universe - or multiverse, or Omni-fucking verse, whatever. She couldn’t get enough Peter, and even as horrendously exhausting as it was to be in bed with twelve Peter’s, it wasn’t enough. She wanted Peter Parker. She’d wanted him all her life. And she couldn’t be satisfied.

That was, until after four hours of having multiple Peter’s on her - or in her, haha - her original Peter took leadership. How he cooed that he was here to take over, to take care of her, to please her, to love her.

Michelle had lost count of how many times she’d exploded that night, but she wanted to say it paled in comparison to when she got a hold of her original Peter alone.

After nine hours of Peter, MJ was limp. Only her heartbeat suggested she was alive. She’d seemingly lost any motor functions of her limbs, her hair was a massive, wild, huge mess obscuring her eyes. She was sweaty. Her voice failed her.

And despite all this, she wanted more.

But she couldn’t even be active herself if she wanted. She was just that far gone, she couldn’t even cuddle her Peter back, when that was one of her favorite parts of being in bed with him.

She was barely awake when she felt a light kiss, and heard a soft “I love you” from her Peter.

This was right.

There could be countless other multiverses out there, with countless other possibilities, but this was right.

This is for @machiavelien and their recent drabbles 🥰😜💘 hope I did the idea some justice

#spideychelle #michelle jones #zendaya #mj #peter parker #tom holland #tomdaya #spideychelle headcanon #zendaya coleman #peter parker x michelle jones #spideychelle is canon #spideychelle college au #michelle jones x peter parker

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marmolady · 3 years

Text

Homecoming: Part Two

Continued from PART ONE

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC, Graleister, Variego

Summary: Endless Ending. Back on La Huerta for the first time since the world's resurrection, there are some heart-to-hearts with old friends in order.

Word Count: 4680

Chronology: After 'The New Taylor' and 'A Ride to Remember', sort of midway through 'Inheritance'.

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic

Thanks for reading!

“Howdy there, pilot. Have you thought of a name for her yet?” Taylor asked as she stepped into the cockpit, squinting as she adjusted to the bright light that shone through the large windows as they soared over the Caribbean.

“You comin’ in here to annoy me is just part and parcel of my La Huerta jobs now, ain’t it?”

“Oh, Top Gun, so sentimental,” she teased-- but really, like she could talk.

Jake rested his hands behind his head and looked out over a familiar green spot in the blue expanse, now fast approaching. “Well, she’s no ‘Delilah’, that’s for sure. If something comes to me, it comes to me. But like I say, it ain’t the same. It’s not as if you people are about to let me hide from the world with this baby as my only friend.”

“Damn straight.”

“Thought as much. Well, everything’s reading as normal; think we might make it, sans freaky storms this time.” Jake turned to his visitor with a smirk. “I’m still gonna want you to get your ass in a seat. A landing’s a landing.”

Safely in her seat-- Estela by her side, and little Fenix in a pet carrier tucked against the seat in the next aisle-- Taylor felt her stomach doing violent flip-flops as the green spot in the ocean came closer, beginning to take on detail. Rivers she’d bathed in snaking out to the sea, Atropo looming, and the now-abandoned Celestial-- still standing by all appearances unchanged-- in its shadow.

Estela was calm and quiet, contemplative as the small plane descended. So much about this journey was familiar, and yet, everything had changed. This time, marching towards her destiny wasn’t a lonely trail to a foregone violent conclusion; this time, the future was all a big unknown other than the fact that it would be anything but lonely. She wove her fingers with Taylor’s, feeling nerves flowing through, and gently squeezed.

“Almost there, querida.”

With a gentle bump, the plane was on the ground, and Taylor gave a small sigh of relief. She didn’t want to be rude about Jake’s flying ability, but until that point, she’d finished every ride with him in either a crash, a near crash… or plummeting into the sea. That she was something of a nervous flyer was, she thought, pretty damn reasonable.

In no time at all, the cabin door had been swung open, and the warm Caribbean air welcomed the small group home.

“And here I was worried I’d need to replace another plane. It seems the pilot can fly one of these things after all; that’s a fiver I owe you, Grace.”

“He of little faith,” Grace laughed, though it was quite clear she was at least somewhat giddy with relief. “Jake knows what he’s doing.”

No sooner had Taylor set her feet on La Huerta soil than a familiar figure was running towards her, streaking out of the cover of the foliage at the side of the runway.

“Diego! Ohmygod!”

Diego flung his arms around his friend and held her tight. Last he’d seen her, she’d only just clawed herself back from death’s door; Taylor was going to get hugged, and she was going to get hugged hard.

Estela set out into the humid air, immediately aware of the sounds of the jungle; insects and birds, rustling of leaves. Even the smell of the soil was distinctly La Huerta. She hadn’t expected to feel like this, but… she was home.

_____________________________

An almost comically deep miaow made Estela jump. Engrossed in what she’d been writing-- and the frustrated doodles she’d been swirling on a separate piece of paper-- she hadn’t noticed Taylor’s cat, Madam, joining her on the wooden bench outside their home.

“I must be making myself crazy, hey Mierdita? I guess you’re here to make sure my senses stay sharp… or you’ve come to complain to me about Nixie.”

“Mow.”

Estela giggled and scooped the little cat, presently bright orange in colour, though that was subject to change, and hugged her to her chest. It was nice to have the company. Taylor was down on the beach, catching up with Diego for the first time in far too long. And what Estela was doing… for the most part, she needed to be left in her own space to do it. The little cat might have been a distraction, but from the number of doodles Estela had scribbled, it looked as though her productivity had already peaked for the time being.

“You’ll just have to learn to forgive Taylor. You know she likes to surround herself with lots of friends.”

Madam nimbly climbed her way up onto Estela’s shoulder, and enthusiastically rubbed against her face.

“I’m glad I can make you feel better. I guess I wasn’t getting anywhere with writing this anyway….”

With a little sigh, she tucked the unfinished letter in her hoodie. She’d written so many letters to her mother-- one for every week she’d been working here on the island-- but to find the words to say goodbye, to get some kind of closure, did not come easy. Maybe with a little more time to think….

“Hello?”

Estela looked up to see Varyyn outside the front of the house. “Haalta, Varyyn. I’m round the side.”

With a low growl, Madam ducked down into Estela’s hood and pressed herself against her neck. She eyed their visitor with great suspicion from her perch.

“It looks like your little friend is happy to have you back,” Varyyn said as he approached, “--and less pleased to see me.”

“Don’t worry; she has a lot to say, but it’s all talk. She won’t bite.”

Varyyn, rather daringly in Estela’s view-- though he did regularly hang around with a hulking smilodon, so maybe he was just good with cats-- reached and tickled Madam under her chin.

“I have been wanting to find you,” he said. “Diego had told me you were preparing a memorial for your mother.”

‘’S a long time coming,” Estela grunted. “And maybe it’ll be a long time still; I don’t want to do anything extravagant, but it’s got to be right.”

“That is fair. I hope I am not disturbing you.”

“No, no. I don’t mind,” she said, gentler. “So long as it’s in progress. Finally. I couldn’t exactly get any kind of closure until I’d dealt with Rourke, and then… I needed to go home. I dunno… maybe it was easier to feel it as anger, because the sadness was too much to bear if I let it take its place. When I let myself really feel it….” A tear rolled down her face, and she brushed it away. “I don’t know if I can say I’m at peace with it all… I don’t think I ever really can be. But I’m better. I brought over the letters Mom sent me when she was here on the island, to bury. And I then thought of writing again… to say goodbye. All I’ve gotta do now is find the words. Anyway,” she finished hurriedly, “you wanted me for something?”

Varyyn nodded sagely. It wasn’t lost on him the intimacy of what was being shared. Perhaps the violent death of his own mother had given Estela a sense of tragic kinship with him?

“Seraxa and I talked at great length. It had… troubled me that there had been no acknowledgement of your mother’s sacrifice. She must have felt very alone standing against the Hydra, but we will not see that bravery forgotten now.”

He reached into his satchel, and brought out a neatly folded set of clothes.

“To wear the traditional uniform of our warriors is the greatest of honours. We wish to pay tribute to your mother as a hero to the Vaanti, if you will accept this gift.”

Estela’s eyes grew wide, and her bottom lip wobbled. “I--- um, thank you.” That’s the best you can manage? “I… don’t know what to say. Thank you.” In Varyyn’s nod of understanding, the look in his eyes, it was plain to see he felt the depth of her gratitude.

A gentle smile came to Varyyn’s face, as though he was relieved. “It is your choice whether you would like to wear this in her honour, or simply keep it as part of your memorial.”

Her cheeks flushed, Estela hugged the folded uniform to her chest. There were just… no words to adequately say what the gesture meant. For Estela’s own protection, any trace of Olivia Montoya’s connection to Everett Rourke had been wiped from record; and with it, all evidence of the courageous last stand taken. But here she was remembered.

“I don’t think I’ve told you…,” Estela choked out after a little while. “I mean, it’s not as if I’m the best conversationalist… I don’t know what to say to people half the time.” She shook her head. “But, anyway, I always found you impressive. When your mother died… it was sudden, and brutal, and somehow you had the strength to honour her by taking up her mantle. Immediately. And you always seemed so together, however much you were crumbling on the inside. You had to be.”

“I had good friends to lean on. And I had Diego.” Varyyn chucked darkly. “It is terrible, but when you all came back through the gate, as much I was very sad for you all, and for Diego, that everything you knew and loved was gone… there was a very selfish part of me….” He stalled.

“Fair enough,” Estela said, not about to force him to finish a clearly uncomfortable sentence. “It had only been a couple of days. How’s anyone supposed to bear that much loss? While carrying the expectations and fears of your people? Diego gave you comfort when you needed it most. And… then you gave him the same.”

“Yes.”

Having that shoulder; it made all the difference. It made living through the worst of horrors bearable, and then, somehow… it made the act of living on, in hope, possible. Varyyn had Diego. She, Estela, had her Taylor. And they all had one another.

“We’re lucky we found the right people.”

___________________________

As she slogged through the soft white sand, Taylor wasn’t sure what was going to give out first, her legs or her lungs. Using her best friend’s hand as an anchor, she kept on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Hey, Taylor, you know, it might be easier to have a real conversation if we sat down for a bit.”

Diego was polite and tactful, but what he meant was clearly; ‘You are an absolute wreck; sit down before you put yourself in an early grave’.

Taking the hint, Taylor flopped down heavily, squinting against the bright sun as she tried to get herself comfortable. While she struggled to get her breath back, Diego sat himself down close by, patiently letting her recover.

“I swear the beaches in San Trobida aren’t so much of a work-out,” Taylor said apologetically. “Not as soft. I have actually gotten a lot fitter, if you can believe it.”

Diego put a hand on her shoulder. “I can actually. You did a pretty good job of covering up how much you were struggling those last few days you were here, but I really don’t think you were fooling anyone. You do look better. Last time I saw you, it was hard not to get the impression that one stiff wind could have you over.”

Taylor snorted with laughter. “Damn, and I thought I put up a good front.”

“Not remotely. You are incredible, my friend, but a talented actor you are not.”

This was wonderful. The warmth of the sun of her body, and the easiest of company. Taylor reclined back, her arms propping her up in the sand from behind.

“Well, now that I’m not having to focus on not falling over… how’ve you really been?”

Diego stared wistfully out to sea, all the while playing with a little lock of his hair that Varyyn had braided for him. “’How have I really been’ as in not the brush-off, ‘oh, I’m good’ answer?”

“Yep. And I promise I’ll keep my own bullshit in check as fair trade.”

“Okay. If that’s how we’re doing this.” Diego fiddled with his hair for a little while longer as he contemplated his answer… and where to start. “I’m good.” As Taylor rolled her eyes, he added quickly; “ I am good.”

“Yeah?”

“Going back home was the best thing I could have done; it made me realise just how much I actually belong here. I’ve found my people. And Varyyn. I don’t have to tell you how cut up I was to be away from him; you could see it. Heck, even Grandma Bhandarkar saw it-- I have never been force-fed so much in my life, and I grew up with my abuela!”

Taylor chuckled. She was eternally grateful that the extended Catalyst family had been there for Diego when she couldn’t be, through one of the most pivotal periods in his life. “Did you… did you manage to talk to your parents at all?” she ventured gently.

With a sad smile, Diego shook his head. “I called from Raj’s place. I did speak to my dad, and honestly it was better than I expected. But he said Mom’s not ready.”

“Oh, Diego….”

“No, I knew she wouldn’t be ready.” He gave a little sigh. “That big, scary conversation’s done now, though, and I feel kind of… lighter. Like… I can start to accept how things are. If Mom and Dad were ever going to accept who I am, you’d think the year and a half I’d disappeared off the face of the earth would have done the trick.”

Taylor put an arm around Diego as he sniffed. “You know it’s all them, yeah? None of this is on you.”

“Yeah… I know. I came back here and… Varyyn just looked at me like I was the most beautiful person in the world. I could not have felt more loved. So, yeah-- I’m good.”

“So,” Taylor said gently, “what happens next? Do you still want to come back to Hartfeld with us in September?”

Diego huffed out a long exhale. Now, that was a question.

“The only really honest answer I can give you is… I don’t know. Could not be more conflicted.”

“That’s… that’s fair.”

“I keep thinking about that vision we saw when I took my action figures from Vaanu. I didn’t think it was possible for me to be that comfortable in my own skin, but it wasn’t like I was just seeing it-- I could feel it.”

“Yeah. It was kind of, just… radiating off you. You were just one-hundred percent genuine Diego, no holes barred… and everyone just loved you for it.”

“Look, I know that whole thing was just Vaanu trying to manipulate you into sacrificing youself--”

“Diego--”

“No, it’s okay. Because even if that’s all it was, it doesn’t matter. The more time I’m here with Varyyn… and people are respecting me as me-- you should see the queues of kids that form when I re-tell the original Star Wars trilogy….”

Taylor chuckled fondly.

“...The more I realise that, actually, that could be me. If I wanted it.”

“That really could be you. Without a shadow of a doubt. It would just mean…”

“Leaving Varyyn? Shattering both our hearts into a million pieces? Yeah, that’s the sticking point.”

Putting her head on Diego’s shoulder, Taylor offered what support she could. “What… what does he think?”

“He really loves me, so he’s unhelpfully understanding about the whole thing. It would be so much easier to know what I should do if he’d just say he’d rather I stay here!”

“So inconsiderate.”

“But, well, he said how much I light up when I talk about what I saw in that vision. And he lights up when he talks about that,” Diego said with a resigned laugh. “He says if I stay here, I shouldn’t be giving up every part of me.”

“He’s right,” Taylor said. “It’s you he fell in love with, and it’s you the hordes of Vaanti children seek out whenever they need smiles put on their faces. One way or another, I think you should always feed the real you. ‘Cause that guy’s pretty great.”

Diego glanced away, bashful, but unable to hide his smile. Again, he started playing with his hair.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, Taylor. How about it’s your turn. Do you have a plan? I guess Vaanu didn’t bother showing you what a future on Earth could look like, hey?”

Taylor gave a soft humph. “No, they certainly did not. That’s something I’m just going to have to figure out myself.” She frowned. “They just showed me enough to put the pressure of ensuring the happiness of everyone I love on my shoulders,” she said bitterly.

Catching her tone, Diego raised an eyebrow. “That’s really getting to you.”

“Yeah,” she heaved. For a moment, she considered what she wanted to share. “Look, I haven’t exactly talked about this before…. All those visions I saw, just about all of them showed you guys rocking your dream careers. Except for, well….” She trailed off, sadly.

“Except for Estela and Aleister, right? Now you mention it, that does kinda say a lot about the impact Rourke had.”

“Exactly. It makes me so… so angry,” she said, than added with a dry laugh, “I don’t have the energy to be angry. Seeing you all die in my dreams doesn’t help either; all I can think is that he did all that. ”

“So, you’ve put it out there now. Maybe that’ll help you move past it?”

“I sure hope so. Letting that fester isn’t going to be healthy for me, and it sure as hell won’t do Estela any favours. She’s been amazing. There’s been so much she’s had to move through. I think I’ve been so focused on her that it only just recently sank in how much I’m simmering in hate for that bastard. And I don’t want to let it out and feed into her own feelings. Does… that make sense?”

“That sounds pretty natural,” Diego assured. “Being protective of your family is pretty much wired into you; kinda makes sense that it would get you all fired up-- and that you want to shield Estela from even more hurt and anger. I’m here, you know. If ever you need a best friend to off-load on; I’m your man.”

“Thanks,” Taylor said softly, and boy, did she mean it. A little smile came to her face at the sound of Furball yipping as he chased a euphoric Fenix up and down the shoreline. Bad feelings passed quickly, for there was just too much beauty in the world she had fought for and won. “All things considered, I’m doing really well. Since I ramped up the self-care, I’m getting less nightmares-- I know they’re not proper nightmares, it’s just my brain replaying memories that aren’t even all mine. But they’ve gotten better.”

Diego shook his head, incredulous. “Honestly, I don’t know how you managed to sleep with that going on at all.”

“With great difficulty is how,” Taylor laughed. “Poor Estela is now pretty used to me waking her up, screaming and crying.” She smiled softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without her; she has this magic way of just… chasing away all the horrors. I guess it’s because I feel safe when she’s holding me.”

“N’aww!” Diego’s eye twinkled. “I really am the best wingman around. I’ll happily accept tips for match-making services given.”

Taylor snorted. “I feel like we can take some of the credit, but fine, thanks for the help. I’ve seen hundreds of different versions of me and Estela falling in love… and it’s surprising how many times it was you who gave me the push.”

“So, you really do owe me one.”

“I really do.”

Fenix ran over, panting heavily, and flopped down into Taylor’s lap. A little way behind, Furball trotted after.

“Hey, Diego?”

“You’re missing your buff wife?”

“That, and I’m absolutely starving. You wanna head back to Catalyst Village?”

Diego looked out at the darkening sky. This day had flown. No doubt, the days to come would fly too, and in no time at all he’d be faced with leaving Varyyn… again. Then his stomach growled loudly.

“Apparently, you’re not the only one. Come on-- d’you need a piggy-back?”

Indignant, Taylor plopped Fenix down in the sand and got to her feet. “I certainly do not.”

“Okay… reframing that. Would you like a piggy-back?”

Ooh, that smirk. “Oh, all right,” she relented. “In the time it would’ve taken me to walk back, I’d have already died of hunger.”

So, they made their way back up the beach; Diego giving a more-weary-than-she’d-care-to-let-on Taylor… and their two furry companions leading the charge, drawn home by the scent on the wind of food being cooked over an open fire.

___________________________

“A toast!” Aleister pronounced loudly, holding aloft a glass of Breath of the Moon. As his friends and family around the fire raised their matching cocktails, he thrust his own glass ever-higher with slightly-tipsy gusto. “To new beginnings! To reuniting with comrades! To bringing about justice!”

Estela leaned over and whispered in Taylor’s ear. “You see why I thought you should only take a little sip of this stuff?”

Taylor sniggered. “I’d make a toast to the fact that we have a whole house to ourselves again.It’s gonna be a lot easier to get our sex on when your brother and sister-in-law aren’t in the next room.”

Giving her wife an exaggerated wink, Estela huddled closer, delighting in the giggle she stirred. Somehow, everything felt easier here. It was is if just to be in this place brought her back to the best of herself, to the sense of peace within herself that had once felt like an impossibility. Now, with Taylor, in their home and surrounded by people they loved, it was an inevitability. This time would refresh her-- it would them both-- and ready them for the greater steps that lay ahead.

It seemed the feeling was catching,for everyone was relaxed and laughing as they cooked skewers over the crackling fire and sipped their cocktails. In the firelight, Varyyn’s face seemed to glow with affection for his beloved husband beside him-- who himself was bubbling over with the simple pleasure of being surrounded by friends. Estela wondered about the two of them… what the future might hold. A year could go by so quickly-- she learned that the had way when she’d been counting down to Taylor’s self-sacrifice-- but away from the one you loved, time would stretch agonisingly. She did not envy the choice Diego was faced with; that they were now with him to offer support though that… that mattered.

Opposite them, Jake was back to ribbing Aleister, something even more fun now that the target was a little sozzled. No amount of back-and-forth teasing could hide the genuine --rather unlikely-- friendship that had formed; Aleister, blessed with both wealth and contacts in high places, had made himself a pivotal force in the fight to clear Jake’s name. The more Estela had gotten to know her unexpected sibling, the more it became obvious to her that at his heart, Aleister was driven by the same protectiveness of those dear to him that powered her. It was something, she’d come to realise, that Rourke had cemented into them both-- not through any passing of genes, but by fierce resistance to the poison he’d inflicted. It had taken time… and it had been painful, but in their budding kinship, Estela had found undeniable comfort.

Taylor took Estela’s hand, and laid a weary head on her shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you,” Estela laughed softly. She could feel the smile on Taylor’s face; so open and radiant, full of tenderness for the people surrounding her, and it spoke wonders.

With her free hand, Taylor gently chinked her glass to Estela’s.

“Cheers. To being home.”

“To being home.”

#endless summer #playchoices #estela montoya #estela x mc #diego soto #varyyn #variego #aleister rourke #jake mckenzie

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lindwyrmrelinquished · 3 years

Note

So....what are some of your headcanons for Ranbutler?

OHHHHHHHHHH BUDDY, YOU ARE OPENING YOURSELF TO A WHOLE NEW CAN'O'BEANS HERE

OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL-

(everything else under the cut because there is a L O T )

Butler's human form is predominant(which unfortunately means he does not have a tail :(), but he can make Ender noises/speak Galactic. He's got a bunch of stims and tics, and making the Ender noises is one of them! He often makes them to fill the silence, or in times of high emotion(positive or negative. just imagine a Butler bouncing on his toes while excited Ender chirps keep coming out of his mouth, or he's rambling about something and half of it is layered with Galactic). Following from that, Butler has something that Billiam calls the "monochrome form". If he's under high levels of stress, whatever dark tint of color is in his right side will start spiking into the left side, making his skin darker(and, if he has enough color in his skin from NOT FUCKING OVERWORKING HIMSELF, it can get dark enough to blend into shadows) and spreading from the little black scales on his neck and cheeks and hands(which are already claws, that's why he wears gloves), and if he's really stressed/pissed, little horns are gonna start poking out of his skull and he's gonna be completely gray/black, his teeth are already deadly but they're gonna get sharper and if you look him in the eyes he will s c r e a m and very likely tear you apart if Billiam isn't there to hold him back/calm him down.

Speaking of! Butler very much dislikes eye contact. It makes them extremely uncomfortable and the Ender part is gonna start screaming to attack attack attack and the pupil-slit thing is gonna happen. Unfortunately, he's frozen by the eye contact and cannot move of his own free will, it's all going to be instinct to either get away or attack, if he moves at all. And the moment the eye contact is broken, he starts to calm down and all the screaming in his head starts to dissipate, so he doesn't really get the chance to consciously act on the Ender side's instinct.

NEXT OF ALL, throwing canon out the window and saying BILLIAM AND BUTLER ARE FOUND-FAMILY. The way they acted in the episode is just that, an act. In reality, they actually Care each other Very Very Much and have adopted each other into their respective hybrid groups(i.e Endermen have their hauntings, Piglins have their sounders{that part's not canon to mc but i yoinked it from a fic}). Hubert jokes about how Billiam accidentally adopted Bu as his son, but both Bu and Bi deny this. Hubert also got Liaria and James in on the joke and now these two are being constantly triple-teamed.

ON THAT NOTE Liaria and James know about the Egg. It happened at the tail end of Bu's first masquerade when they started accusing Billiam of committing all the murders, and Bu kind of panicked and outed himself as the killer, he pulled out the knife and everything. Billiam admitted that he knew about this, and showed them the Egg as explanation. Now Liaria and James willingly give up their bought lives to the Egg on the regular(we might get into the lives thing later{it was also something i yoinked from a fic, and then I gave it more explanation}) to keep Billiam and his family alive, but they're not all that affected by it due to not even being near it half the time.

AND ON THAT NOTE, let's talk about Butler's relationship with the Egg! Bad. It's bad. Absolutely terrible, the two despise each other immensely. I like to say they're the closest thing to caliginous that a teenaged hybrid that lived off spite and an ancient crimson demon can be. The Egg's hurt Bu a lot, and honestly that's part of the reason his contempt and fear for it is so high. But that's also part of the reason why Billiam was pulled out of its influence despite living right above it. Because he cares for Bu, a literal child that's suffered severe mental and physical trauma at the hands(well, vines) of the Egg. Honestly? Billiam wouldn't be the way he is now if he didn't have to take trips to the Nether. Short explanation, too much time away from their home realm gets hybrids really really sick. So, about a few months or so after Bu arrived, he had to yeet back there for a week and just told Butler and Hubert to take care of the mansion. And you know what Hubert did, that bitch? He took advantage of both Billiam's absence and Butler's skill and pampered himself while throwing the entire load onto the child. And then like halfway through the week, he got the idea to introduce said child to the Egg, who before then has had no idea it ever existed aside from the crimson red aura around the mansion(it's a whole thing about Endermen and magic but again, another thing I might get into later). He hadn't even attended a party before then. So, yeah, Hubert just left him down in one of the old cells for three days. Didn't even check on him, that bitch. And then when Billiam game back, suffice to say he was PISSED. He may be a rich bastard who causes murders biweekly, but even he has standards, and hurting a damn 7-8 year old child that bad was not one of them. he can't be held responsible for child labor, bu followed him home by his own choice. again, another whole backstory thing

Bu's genderfluid! He usually switches between he/him and they/them, and the direction he nods is a little indicator of which one(up for gender, down for no), but sometimes he uses she/her. Adding on that, due to Weird Enderman Genetics, he can manipulate his hair to grow real fast and likes to experiment with it in the mornings for Maximum Gender Euphoria This means that one day his hair could be barely touching his neck, and the next it's all the way down to his waist. It's a fun little anomaly and sometimes Billiam likes to play with it when it gets longer :3 travelling on the lgbt train, Bu is also ace/aro! This doesn't have much impact story-wise(usually), but it's just a fun little tidbit :3 On other, more Ender notes, he has pretty much all the traits an Enderman does, even if he looks fully human aside from being 6 inches taller than Sir Billiam himself. With the eye-contact thing, I've got a headcanon that Endermen can kind of read minds to an extent if they look into another entity's eyes, but it gets loud and borderline painful if anything but another Enderman does the same. Meanwhile, Bu's about the perfect mix of an Enderman and a Human(later called Players and Villagers depending on their capabilities) to be able to take at least a few seconds of eye contact. He can also teleport! To about the same extent as Endermen, if not a little less. Unfortunately, spending too much time in the void between teleportations(i.e a few hours for him, though an hour in the void is a minute in reality. It's why teleporting happens in the blink of an eye to anyone but the user) has some adverse effects. Bu's either glitched, gotten some sort of void-sickness like a flu but worse, and/or lost large chunks of memory each of the separate times he stuck himself in there for too long. Pure-blooded Endermen have a longer tolerance, but even they can succumb to the void with enough time.

Bu's also hurt by water, and the first time Billiam really figured this out is when he dragged him to the roof because it was raining and for some reason, Bi really likes the rain. Bu, on the other hand, was hospitalized for a day once Billiam actually realized, "oh, he's burning" Unfortunately, Bu can still produce tears, so he's got some scars on his cheeks and hands from those, Luckily, though! Billiam got him some gloves and a facemask reminiscent of cc!Ranboo to hide those scars because bu's. really self-conscious about them :,D

But also he's got TOE BEANS,

[ahem] So Endermen are basically giant block-holding teleporting cats and no one can convince me very much otherwise. So on the one hand, they have giant hands shaped for holding blocks. On the other hand, T O E B E A N S

So Bu's got beans on the pads of his fingers and feet(which also end in claws with a black gradient because Peak Character Design <3). Billiam likes to hold his hands on the rare occasion he doesn't wear his gloves because mans likes to stim with those toe beans. Meanwhile Billiam himself has nicely-textured hands because of his Piglin hooves and Bu also likes to stim with them, so just. them holding each others hands for mutual stimmage

[ahem] anyway

Bu stims!! He flaps his hands and does thing really rapidly and harshly when he's really high-strung, which doesn't happen often, at least in front of people. Boy's got anxiety so he's had his fair share of panic attacks :,D he just knows how to disguise them so people don't see, but Billiam knows the signs at this point. But he also has a lot of vocal stims/tics, mainly lots of Enderman noises, some popping and a little screechy thing here and there. Sometimes he picks up a sound and then repeats it a whole bunch because it feels nice on the tongue :] there's also these poofs of particles that happen when he's happy, they look like mini purple fireworks and they're like an expulsion of magic, he can feel when they happen and it feels nice :]

(cw for self-harm in this paragraph and the followed copy-pasted convo)

[ahemhemhem] So y'know how Butler's an Ender-hybrid? His hands and feet reflect that(along with the ears, the eyes, the height, the abilities, but we're talking about about the hands here). Part of why he keeps those gloves on almost 24/7 is to dull his claws, which are not so much an intentional danger to others rather than an unintentional danger to himself. He's got tics and stims and is very neurodivergent and has anxiety(me projecting? noooo /hj), so he gets very nervous very easily. And one of his nervous habits rather than wringing his hands, fidgeting, and (if really bad)a heightened amount of tics, he tends to scratch at his arms. His claws can tear through the fabric easily, and more than one or two suits have been sent back to the tailors for repairs to the sleeves. However, having both padded sleeves and padded gloves nullifies that, so he always wears them special-made. If he didn't have that habit, he likely wouldn't have the gloves on as often as he does.

Friend Hey good headcanons 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 Also ohhhh my god Billiam fussing over him and his gloves until he gets them to be the right amount of padded where Bu can still do things but also not hurt himself

Me gbfhdgbhgsfhbgsfdhdf He keeps examining them every time the tailors try but it doesn't feel right until That Specific Try so he just plops the gloves back on the counter and says "Do it again"

Friend They spend an entire day doing nothing but making gloves while Billiam & Hubert take turns watching Butler to make sure he stays safe

Me Absolutely Problem is Butler can feel eyes on him. And eyes make him nervous :,) so when he gets nervous. he starts to scratch at his arms again and anxiety is too much for him to ask them to stop watching him

Friend It ends up with them just having to hold his hands, looking at random things (they can go sit on the balcony or something so they have something pretty to look at)

Me That hold on actually that's adorable-

Friend Fhhdjdjdjsjsj they're friends your honor

Me Absolutely Even Hubert contributes to keeping him safe. And Hubert's afraid of even being near Butler

Friend And then we get bonding via the oh no Billiam is busy and Hubert has to take care of Bu for the next 3 hours

Me GHDSFGSHFGS THAT IS A GREAT IDEA Butler insists he can do everything himself, nothing's different about the routine, and then he has a mental breakdown when he tries to make food without anyone else in the kitchen- Cause usually Hubert's there, even if he's making something else. There's at least another presence, and that's the sort of thing that's calming for Bu. But Hubert's off setting up the table for lunch/dinner or something and Butler makes One minor slip-up and spirals from there until he's struggling even handling spice mixing The same thing happened with cookies one time, and both times Hubert found him borderline unable to function because he panicked too much and helped him out of it.

Friend Butler is just curled up in the kitchen, trying to have a quiet panic attack because he can't cause the others any more trouble than he already is, and Hubert is very quietly upset about helping him because he was doing so good at avoiding Bu but here he is again being the only thing that's letting this kid breathe

Me Absolutely

Friend Do you think Bu passes out on him? Like Hubert (probably reluctantly) gives Butler a hug cause those help, and Bu was just supposed to stay there until he felt better, but panic attacks are exhausting and he fell asleep at some point-

Me Oh my gods he would though, especially with the amount of sleep he gets He'd have to try so hard to even stay conscious, much less do things in the manner he usually does, and Hubert just quietly tells him that it's okay to sleep; he'll take care of everything. Hu never forgets that of course Bu's always in danger around him - he has fleeting thoughts and quite often knows how to act on them - but he stands up holding an exhausted child and takes him to his room so he can rest. Butler may want him to stay; Endermen usually want someone around when sleeping. It's the security of having someone watch for nightmares, but Hubert doesn't stay. He has to go back to the kitchen and finish that meal Bu was making. But if he's still asleep by the time Hu's done with everything, he might linger outside his door, listening in for anything bad.

(Okay the cw is over now, you may now go back to your regularly scheduled content :,D)

Also, one last thing: Billiam gives Butler a bunch of gold things(including the masquerade mask) because that's what Piglins do with their sounders, they cover them in gold to show they care. And after Bu finding out the reason why Billiam's been handing off a bunch of gold things to him he does not cry, because that would hurt his face, but he does feel quite a lot of things that make him want to because holy shit Billiam feels the same

Butler is Billiam's sounder and Billiam is Butler's haunting, they are family your honor

#mod note #mod post #ask #anon #tftsmp billiam #tftsmp butler #tftsmp hubert #this is a. R E A L L Y . long post #THANK GOD FOR POST CUTS HUH #good god there is SO MUCH content in here #i just copy-pasted all my rambles from my dms-#my friends must suffer and now you will too <3

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beclynn-herondale · 3 years

Text

Inside TMI Gang's diaries part 5 2/3

Clary: Dear diary, I ran away with Jace, mom won't be happy, but I have to save my Jace. Simon is covering for me, although that won't last long and mom may go mama bear on him, I do love him though and I'll owe him one. So far things have been weird, seeing Jace get along with Sebastian is strange and I don't like it, and Sebastian is as evil as ever, i miss Jace so much, this Jace isn't my Jace. And Sebastian doesn't trust me I know this for a fact, but I don't trust him either and you better watch your back Sebastian.

*Later*

So Jace's room is the same as it always is, so clean not a mess, everything is neat, but he isn't Jace. We went on a date, Sebastian let us cause Jace would be with me, Jace cam speak italian and hates ducks, I'll have to mention this stuff when he is my Jace again, we stole a boat but that's nothing new from what we usually do, the date was nice but I felt guilty for enjoying it, when we came back Sebastian was occupied and creepy, anyway, we had a talk when I woke up later and he is starting to confuse me, but that's what he wants. I went back to bed and got up again, also Jace can make eggs, I don't like them but can't tell him that, also I wonder if he can cook other things, need to make a list of things to ask him when he's back to normal Jace. We also read a copy of his ancestor's book.

*Later later*

Me, Jace and Sebastian, went on a mission kind of thing, Simon calls us team Evil, we fought a demon, and I actually kicked a demons butt, Sebastian took us to a kinda night club, me and Jace got high, Sebastian told me I have a dark heart and like bitch whatever. Me and Jace made out in the club and uh things kinda got outta control, I am not proud, ok, I thought I saw dead people and passed out, I woke up to Sebastian leaving and followed him, demons almost killed me and he saved me, what is he doing? I lost my ring and can't get in contact with Simon, everything is bad and maybe this is all hopeless, no, I just need coffee, sweet sweet coffee, I need a coffee high *coffee/knife/serious emoji*

Possessed Jace: Dear diary, things are good, Sebastian keeps giving me weird looks when I am with Clary though, Sebastian we are still cool though don't worry. Clary is here and it's nice, I want her to be happy and her to have whatever she wants, I am gonna be so romantic but cool about *sunglasses emoji* I am Jace Lightwood, and extremely smooth and she loves me.

*Later*

I took Clary on a date and I nailed it *sunglasses emoji* we went back home after that and I read to her and we went to sleep, after that we went on a mission, my fire goddess kicked ass, and Sebastian took us to a night club place to take care of evil stuff, me and Clary got high and we did some things at the night club. In the morning I made her eggs, I'll make her eggs all the time, Sebastian wants to discuss evil plans now.

Trapped Jace: *sharpening knives* just wait you little shit, keep looking at Clary like that and I'll stab you, I am gonna beat you up, you shall know my wrath, and I will bring it upon you. *Knife/murderous emoji*

Sebastian: Dear evil diary, what can I say, the fruit of evil is ripe, I have evil plans, I have Jace under my finger, I have Clary now too, and soon she'll understand. Jace will do anything I say and Clary will do anything for him, love truly does make one weak. And I wi burn shit. Also maybe I'll play with stuff as well. *Devil emoji*

*Later*

We got into a fight and Clary can kick ass, maybe I underestimated her a tiny little bit. We went to a night club and I talk to Meliorn and I do believe the fair folk will stand with me, and after all I do have something with the queen, and I know what you are going to say what about Jace? Well you see Jace is my backup plan he has no idea ;)

Alec: Dear diary, still sneaking around, Jace is still gone, Clary is gone now too, Jocelyn is angry and I know why she scares Jace now, Izzy and Simon are something, Idk but my big brother instincts are kicking in. Jocelyn and Izzy went to the Iron Sisters and found out there isn't a weapon to separate Jace from Sebastian, unless it is of heaven itself or something. *Shrug emoji*

*Later* so we summoned a demon, and then a greater demon, what have we become? I'll do whatever it takes to save Jace, but like when did we start summoning demons and greater demons like it's not a big deal? I think we've lost our minds, and we are also now apparently going to summon Raziel, what are we doing, but it's for Jace. Also Magnus does look good in his outfit today but there is stuff between us. When did life get so complicated? *shrug emoji*

Magnus: Dear diary, welcome back to the crazy chaotic would of Shadowhunters, I may have lost Clary, but it's not my fault she can make portals, I see an angry Jocelyn in my future. Alec is kinda weird lately but it's probably nothing, Isabelle and Jocelyn were going to the Iron Sisters to see if there is a weapon that can separate Jace and Sebastian, blondie needs to come back so all this Shadowhunter drama will calm down.

*Later*

We summoned a demon and after that we summoned the greater demon Azazel, the little shit almost told Alec who my father is, and I swear what have I gotten myself into? Oh! Also apparently we are gonna summon an Angel now, I have a feeling we'll all be dead by the end of this, it's a miracle we haven't died already, I have to do research and stuff, also Sheldon saved my cat so I am thankful for that, Isabelle and Simon have something going on, Jocelyn is gone, and I want to drink and drink, cause Magnus is done bitches. But also Alec is looking beautiful today. *throws glitter* *sunglasses emoji*

Izzy: Dear diary, Simon came to me like I asked him to, and he told me about starwars or something, I don't remember the plot exactly but I think they had something called lifesavers???? Or something, also they are apparently in space which is cool, and the good guys win. Also me and Jocelyn went to the Iron Sisters and they said I would make a good one but like bish ya girl needs her heels, idk what has gotten into me lately, but when I think about Simon I feel happy and I get this feeling and I want to spend time with him and hear him talk endlessly about starwars cause he is so passionate about it. *Confused emoji*

*Later*

We may have kinda summoned a demon, and then a greater demon, and now we may kinda be getting ready to summon an angel we are on our way to Luke's farm so yeah. . . But yeah, Simon may die and idk what to do... *Blank emoji*

Simon: Dear diary, life just doesn't seem to be letting up, first Clary ran off to do reckless shit, Jace is literally possessed by her evil Brother and is like a puppet, Jocelyn is mad I didn't stop Clary, but honestly who can stop Clary?!?! — Izzy went off to the Iron sister earlier with Jocelyn before she found out Clary was gone and apparently they can't make a weapon to separate Jace and Sebastian without killing them both, this is the part where that intense action yet hopeless music would start playing. *Nerd emoji*

*Later* I told Izzy the plot of Starwars and she listened and laughed and said it was neat, she said It was neat and even though it is so much more than neat for some reason her just listening to me talk about it made me so happy, she may become a fan *Shooketh emoji* but also we summoned a demon, and then a greater demon and now we are going to summon an angel to try and get the angel Michael's sword called glorious cause it's apparently the only weapon that will work, but I may die so rip, but also please let everything be alright but also I do have the mark of cain it's just a matter of if it works. *Worried emoji*

Church: Dear Cat diary, I come to you with the heavy weight of the most fucking done I have ever been, Jem is still hasn't come and saved me, Herondale is still possessed and honestly I am done, fire ball ran away, archer boy is off doing shit, Izzy is falling in love now too and I thought she would be the one who wouldn't like girl love drama? And Simon is probably contributing to whatever chaotic plan fire ball has. evil shit is probably off doing evil shit, where's that sweet little boy? Gone! Because an ass had to be an ass. Sorry I need to control my emotions, I just miss Jem so much, and these kids are driving me crazy, also Magnus you are contributing as well now,Jem Jem Jem pls. Anyway I am gonna go sharpen my claws and eat tuna and drown my sorrows in tuna. *Cat/tuna/murderous emoji*

Tag list: @khaleesiofalicante @chibi-tsukiko @megs-readstoomuch @spotsandclawsthings @magnus-the-maqnificent @replayfootsteps @sarcasticmalecfan @simply-ellas-stuff @my-archerboy

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lo-55 · 3 years

Text

Shattered Chains of Fate Ch.11

Silver and Steel

Ichigo holds his sword firmly, his eyes narrowed at the man in front of him. They’d separated. Ukitake stays behind, but Ichigo has no doubt that he’s just as powerful as the man in front of him.

Ichigo knows good and well that he can’t beat the both of them, but that won’t stop him from trying. Rukia still stands behind him, uncertain.

“I can see you’re determined,” hatman says. He changes his stance. “It’s unfortunate, but today my zanpakuto is feeling playful. She’s a bit picky, you understand, but you’ve gotten her interest.”

“Lucky me,” Ichigo says dryly.

That get’s the man to laugh.

“I’m Shunsui Kyoraku, the captain of squad eight, and you won’t find me so easy to pin as these young bucks here.”

“...are you aware that that sounds suspiciously like an innuendo,” Ichigo narrows his eyes at the man, Kyoraku, who looks startled but laughs a moment later.

“We’re going to have fun with you,” he predicts. There’s an undercurrent in his easy voice, something that is not quite malice but still not nice. Ichigo cocks his head.

“We’ll see.”

Kyoraku crosses his swords at the blade and changes his stance. The world seems to shift, just enough to set Ichigo’s teeth on edge. It’s a familiar sensation, one he’s missed in the past few months. He knows, as soon as this Katen Kyokotsu is released, what has been done.

They’re in a reality marble, or something akin to it.

Ichigo narrows his eyes. This is a man strong enough to warp reality itself to his whims.

“You have to know you can’t win,” Ukitake actually sounds gentle. “If you give up now, you and your friends won’t be hurt.”

“Until you execute us, you mean,” Ichigo shoots him a dark glare. He has the decency to wince.

Ichigo looks to the other man. Kyoraku, captain of the eighth. He’s a whole different kind of monster to Kenpachi. Not a claw in the throat but the shadows that lurked just out of reach.

“So. Shall we begin?”

“I suppose. However, I should explain now what it means for my Zanpakutou to want to play with you,” Kyoraku’s smile turns just a little bit sharper. “Katen Kyokotsu makes childrens games real.”

“... you’ve got to be fucking with me,” Ichigo can feel a twitch develop over his eye brow.

“Excuse me?” Kyoraku asks, cocking his head just so.

“No, no. See, I met a little girl who makes nursery rhymes real, and now you’re going to make a kids game real. That just. Yeah. That’s my life. Why the fuck not.” Ichigo shakes his head. “What game are we playing?”

Kyoraku looks intrigued by his admittance, but tells him all the same.

“Have you ever played Kagome Kagome?”

Ichigo was exasperated. “Which of us is the demon?”

Kyoraku started walking, clock wise, leaving a trail of copies behind him while shadows slithered up and locked around Ichigo’s eyes. He stiffened, but he knew how powers like these worked. Kyoraku was just as bound by the rules as he was.

The question was, now, what happened if he guess wrong? What damage would it do?

Kyoraku’s voice echoed around him. It circled him on all sides, front and back, left and right.

Kagome kagome

Kago no naka no tori wa

Itsu itsu deyaru

Yoake no ban ni

Tsuru to kame ga subetta.

Ushiro no shoumen daare

Kagome kagome, The bird is in the cage,

Ichigo tilts his head. The voice will be no help. This game is hardly fair.

When, oh when will it come out

In the night of dawn

On top of that, all of the space around them now feels distinctly like Kyoraku. The laugh on the wind, the shadow at his back, the scent of sake and, now, some type of bun. He can’t feel where Kyoraku is, and the song is coming to a close.

The crane and turtle slipped

Who is behind you now?

Ichigo swallows thickly. His instincts hum under his skin. He’s always trusted them. They’ve guided and protected him well for years.

And, according to the prickling along his arms, the greatest source of danger is to his right.

“A shadow,” Ichigo says with sudden certainty. “It’s one of the copies of you.”

He swings to the right, fast and hard, and feels flesh cave to the bite of Zangetsu.

It’s the last good blow he makes in the fight.

“So. What do you think is wrong with him?”

“Karin!” Yuzu frowns minutely at her sister from where she stands before the stove, a ladle in one hand. Sauce bubbles cheerfully in the pot in front of her,

“What? We both know there’s something weird about Ichigo. There’s been something weird about him since he got home. And now he’s even weirder. Does he really think we believe he’s our brother?”

“Karin!”

“What?” Karin is unrepentant. They both know. Ever since Ichigo came back he’s been weird. He’s up at all hours, he barely sleeps and he’s skittish as all hell. Karin has started walking louder to make sure he jumps less when she shows up in the room. Even their dad has started acting different and distant from Ichigo. On top of all that, Ichigo is more physically affectionate that she’s ever seen him in their lives.

“I’m pretty sure that the guy upstairs now isn’t even Ichigo. He’s a clone or something.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say!”

“But’s it’s true!” Karin insists. Yuzu falters, the irritated furrow in her brow easing. The spatula in her hand is brandished like a weapon until she sets it on the spoon holder beside the stove.

“But he looks just like Ichigo…”

“The one that came back from his trip is definitely Ichigo.” Traumatized, and Karin isn't’ an expert but is he supposed to be so traumatized from an explosion? Did he hit his head? Was it worse than he said? That sounds like Ichigo. “But the one we have now is definitely not our brother.”

“Karin… How is that possible?”

“Ghosts are possible,” Karin reminds her, ignoring the fact that Yuzu can’t see them. Still, Yuzu believes in them, more than Karin herself does. If she doesn’t acknowledge that they’re there they won’t bother her like they do her brother.

Yuzu bites her lip.

“Still… What do we say?”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything yet,” Karin admits. It’s too soon, and there’s too much weird stuff going on right now. She doesn’t trust that they’ll get the truth if they go after it without more facts to shuffle through whatever crap the adults try to feed them. They’re young, but they aren’t stupid, and Karin knows that they’re going to have to pull answers out like they pull teeth.

“Good,” Yuzu says with finality. Quieter, with a glance at the ceiling, she adds, “That Ichigo, even if he isn’t our Ichigo, he seems… lonely, Karin.”

Karin knows the look in her sisters eye. The one she gets with stray cats and the cast off friends that Ichigo brings home sometimes. It’s the look that lead to the entire year they’d spent devoted to guarding a single caterpillar in a jar until it was a butterfly. Yuzu is not the temperamental one, she isn’t the scraper, but there’s not doubt in Karin’s mind that she’s the real power in the household. When Yuzu puts her foot down that’s all there is to it.

“Then we just make him our,” she says with a roll of her shoulders. Simple as that.”

“Yeah!” Yuzu grins. “Oh! Did I tell you my doll is haunted?”

“... huh?”

* *

Shunsui Kyoraku is a dutiful man.

He does what is required of him, to serve his home and protect his friends. He always has, since he’d first felt the weight of the heavy black kosado on his shoulders. He is the second son of nobility, he was born to know duty . Even if he prefers to be lackadaisy, even if he bends the rules until they’re twisted knots, and lets events take their course, he will follow the orders Yamamoto gives directly.

He and Juushiro were some of his first students, and they are the only ones left from their class for a reason. He is perhaps one of only five who remain to remember the wolf that Yamamoto truly is, for all he falls to heel at the call of the Central 46 now under the guise of a loyal dog.

He has seen the fight it had been for Yamamoto to establish the shinigami in the first days of their existence, when the foundations of the world had been shaky and the throne had been empty. He had been there for the first quincy war, one thousand years ago, and then again for the second only two hundred prior.

That one had hardly been a war. It had been a slaughter, and he had raised his sword to it just as he had been told.

Now a child stands before him, desperate to save a girl who he can’t have known longer than a summer. She is one of Juushiro’s, one of his favorites in fact. He knows he’s been grooming her to be his next lieutenant for the last forty years, since even before Kaien’s death.

(Privately he thinks it should be the two of them trying to protect her, but they have seen Yamamoto incinerate men, they have witnessed his bankai first hand. If he presses the issue, what chance do they have? They have gone to the Central 46 as captains and nobles and been turned away both times, in spite of the ancient laws.)

This child, Shunsui thinks while he bleeds from his shoulder down to his sternum, is frightening.

He is young. He is human, he cannot be more than two decades old. But it is his eyes that are the most unnerving.

They are not the eyes of someone who knows defeat. They are the eyes of someone who knows that defeat means death. The eyes of someone who has not been beaten by the merits of his simple being alive right now. The fact that he stands before him, with Shunsui’s blood on his sword, is a testament to that fact.

It’s been a long time since someone had done so well in one of his games. They’re never in anyone else's favor, but now Kyokotsu laughs somewhere in the back of his mind, his swords thrum in his hands.

Truthfully, Shunsui would rather not kill this child. He would rather not kill any of the children in front of him.

He knows Juushiro feels the same way. Killing Rukia would be like killing a part of him, too.

They’ve both sent petitions to the Central 46. Both as captains and as noblemen, but none have been answered. It’s a violation of their own laws, but then the Ryoka had come and their investigation had been cut short.

According to Nanao, little Hitsugaya has taken over for them.

Kyokotsu switches games, and Shunsui sinks into the shadows.

The boy is good, for all he is young. He’s been well trained, he thinks on his feet. He fights like there’s something missing.

And that red ribbon on Rukia’s wrist. Her new clothes. It’s interesting.

Shunsui has never seen anything like it. It’s almost like a pseudo bankai, forcibly unlocked by the child in front of him.

Yes, frightening is really the right word for it.

The games change. Ichigo catches on quickly to each one, to the rules and the ways they are both bound by them.

He’s also accumulating more injuries. Cuts on his arms, his back, his chest. Kyokotsu is fond of the boy. It’s rather unfortunate, really.

Shunsui feels bad when he goes in for a hard attack, an emotion he ruthlessly crushes down. He can’t afford to be worried about an opponent in a battle.

Ichigo barely moves back. He’s not fast enough to completely dodge the blade the cuts into his shoulder, just shy of his throat.

Rukia screams, so does the boy from the forth and kid that looks like a shinigami but probably isn’t.

Blood erupts from the split in his skin, a deadly strike if a slow one. It won’t be a quick death. It might not be a death at all if he can, say, get seen by the fourth division member that’s not twenty feet away in the next ten minutes.

Shunsui is broken out of that idea when white overtakes red and it is no long blood that splatters out of the child's body, but a paste that looks awfully familiar.

What in the hell?

A half an answer comes a minute later, when a hand grasps Katen by the blade and yanks Shunsui forwards so Ichigo can try to cleave him in half.

Shunsui blocks with Kyokotsu. The boys reitsu has changed. It was once light and brilliant, a small sun in his young chest. Now it lashes out darkly, black and tinged with red. The eye that turns upon him doesn’t match the other.

One brown. One yellow, rimmed first in black and then in white.

A hollow eye.

It’s only the fact that rules of their current game mean that Shunsui can’t be cut anywhere where his clothes aren’t white, and the fact that his haori and kimono are already off to the side that save him from the brutal counter slash. The boy is fast, his movements vicious and harsh.

Shunsui separates from the attack. He can feel the wind and the faint crackle of lightning that gives away the presence of the oncoming storm that is Shihoin Yoruichi.

She crashes into the platform and knocks Ichigo unconscious with something that looks suspiciously like a very large baseball bat.

She stands before them, two of the old guard, surrounded by children. She cannot take them all, and Ichigo’s reiatsu is still dark and dank, an ocean of shadows that even Shunsui is weary to tread into.

Kyokotsu laughs softly. She wants to play with this boy. Katen inches forwards, her true nature flickering at the edge of his soul. Pure and holy, she wants to split the boy’s darkness with light.

Shunsui cannot allow it. He smothers her in the darkness of Kyokotsu and bids her sink further into his soul, a burden he still bears with grace and secrecy.

“The lost lady of the Shihoin,” Shunsui greets with a smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your return?”

Yoruichi doesn’t answer immediately, and her playful smile is tight around the edges. Shunsui remembers when she and her brother were still just children at their fathers knee. Yukihira hadn’t even been going grey in the temples when he’d died. It seems all Shihoin lived short, fast lives. They are quick shadows that burn away in the light. Disowned or not Yoruichi is now one of the oldest Shihoin on record.

“You certainly did a number on the boy,” she says instead of answering. Kisuke is involved with this, somehow, the mask is proof enough. Just what do they want with Rukia?

This changes things.

The banishment of half the upper echelons of the gotei 13 had never sat right with Shunsui. It was too much too fast, and Kisuke had never struck him as the type. Not to say Kisuke was a good man, but he certainly was not a good enough liar to fool someone like Shunsui for so long, or Shinji for that matter.

If there weren’t strict orders against it, he might have hunted them down in the living world and demanded answers himself. But Yamamoto had made it clear. No one was to launch any further investigations into the hollowfication incident.

(Now he wonders again ; why?)

“He did trounce little Bakuya over there pretty badly,” Shunsui points out.

“So he did. I’ll be taking him now,” she warns. Her body tenses, ready to flee. Shunsui steps forwards and swings lazily at her head.

He slices through open air and a few stray purple strands of hair.

She’s slower now than she was before, he notes, but still fast enough to flee his field of influence before he can cut her down.

Now all that’s left to do is see to the wounded, figure out what to do with their little turncoats, figure out what’s possessed their central government, find out why a child has been hollowfied, unlock the strange mysteries of Rukia’s new powers, and possibly get drunk.

Easy breezy.

An explosion sounds from where Yoruichi has run off to, and Shunsui figures his plans may have to change.

* * *

Kon paces the basement of Ichigo’s strange house in his borrowed body, wearing a trail in the cement floor.

He’s surrounded on all sides by the strange things that Ichigo keeps in here, the magical artifacts and tools that he’s accumulated.

Amongst all of them is the plain brown box that Kon had found on a table upstairs.

The weirdo from the dreams, Merlin , swears he gave it to Ichigo. Kon would normally call Bullshit but honestly? It’s Ichigo.

There’s just something about that kid that makes him feel like anything is possible. Even gifts from dream men who smell like too many flowers and don’t give straight answers.

Kon arranges the thick crystals on the markings carved carefully into the floor. He’d tried to make it look exactly like the picture in the book, but he wasn’t an artist. It didn’t matter. Ichigo’s body seemed to know what they were doing without him having to tell it. He could feel a strange power thrumming through his borrowed skin.

It sunk in from the world around him, filling up the empty spaces in the bone marrow, in the muscles, in the very pores of his body.

This vessel knows what to do, even if Kon doesn’t.

He sets one of the other items in the middle of the circle. There’s six crystals that shine incandescently on each corner of the design.

“Use the stones first,” Merlin had said, his lilac eyes curved with some hidden joke, “ You’ll need Ichigo to use the last bit.”

The last bit being a scrap of cloth that he’d left in the box. It was same shade as his hair, and tattered at the ends. Kon left it where it was and set in the center of the circle two more stones. One was a red crystal. The other was dull grey, and shaped like the head of a small serpent.

Everytime he touches them Kon feels his fingertips tingle with something .

Kon picks up a paring knife.

On Ichigo’s palm is a long scar, one that’s been opened over and over again. Now, Kon presses the blade to the same thin white line until it splits neatly under the sharp edge.

Red wells up. He barely feels it. Ichigo’s pain tolerance is insane.

He holds his fist out over the circle and let’s Ichigo’s body do as it apparently knows to. Blood drips into the careful lines he’s made and it spreads with a vermillion glow that crackles faintly.

“Let Silver and Steel be the Essence…”

* * * *

“Again,” Ichigo touches his forehead. It throbs horribly. “Why the hell does this keep happening to me?”

His groan of pain is met with silence. He can touch his forehead so he’s not tied up. And he can feel pain so presumably he’s not dead. That’s good. If he dies he can’t keep his promises.

On the other hand, if he was dead he probably wouldn’t feel like he was chewed up and spit out again.

When he finally peels his eyes open, he finds himself in the ‘inside’ again. Vertical buildings, and pieces of himself in the form of places he’s gone. The water at the street is a bit deeper.

Ichigo rubs his head and squints around him.

“Zangetsu?” he calls, looking around. The old man is nowhere to be seen. There’s something familiar about this entire situation. He can taste chalk and blood. His chest aches. What the hell is going on here?

“Zangetsu!” he yells louder. No response.

Fine then. Maybe if he focused on his zanpakuto? Zangetsu was the manifestation of it right? Or something.

Ichigo closed his eyes and reached out, taking a deep breath.

He focused on the feeling of his sword in his hand. The cool metal until sturdy wrappings. The wicked blade. The weight of the weapon. The comfort of Zangetsu against his back.

He closed his hands around something and opened his eyes.

And nearly had a heart attack.

“What the fuck!?”

Standing in front of him, no holding his hand, was him . If he’d been sent through a bottle of bleach. His eyes, the other him’s eyes (fuck this was confusing) were bright, luminescent gold. Where there should be white was instead black. When the other him grinned his teeth weren’t as sharp as Ichigo felt they should be.

“Hey there, Partner.”

Ichigo extracted his hand warily. “Who the fuck are you?” He asked bluntly.

A flicker in the corner of his eyes came from the side. His head snapped to the side to see Zangetsu, the old man.

“Zangetsu.”

Ichigo looked back at the other him. The one who spoke. His head throbbed. His chest ached.

“Huh?”

“Ichigo.”

“Yes, yes. Ichigo, Zangetsu, whatever,” he waved his hands impatiently. “What the ever loving fuck is going on here? Why am I here? I was just fighting and- Did I get stabbed?” Ichigo patted down his chest. There was no blood, and it didn’t hurt.

The other him scoffed. “Damn you’re dumb. Yeah ya got stabbed!”

“Don’t be rude,” Ichigo said absently. He lifted his shirt. There wasn’t even a scar on his chest. Just the same red circle that had rested on his chest since he’d been speared through. It felt like an eternity ago. The longer the wars went on the harder it was to keep track of everything and everyone. Sometimes he felt like he mixed up the order of operations. Did he go to London first? Or Oceanus? Fuck.

“ I’m rude!”

Ichigo has to jump to avoid being stabbed by the sword Zangetsu. Now wielded by the other him, and also reversed in color.

“You’re the one that made us wait that long before you heard us, asshole!”

“Huh?!” Ichigo ducked and dodged each slash. Finally, Zangetsu (the man) blocked Zangetsu (the sword (except they were technically both swords (and this was making Ichigo’s head ache))) to stop the fight.

“Ichigo,” Zangetsu intoned. “You were being beaten. Badly. We cannot allow this to continue.”

“Okay,” Ichigo says slowly. “So you suck me out of consciousness and throw me here while everyone else is back there? What about Rukia and Hanataro and Ganju!”

“What about them?” the Other Him. White Ichigo maybe? Shirogo? Espejo? Nieve? Speaks up. He leans on his sword, looping his arm casually over the bite under the curve of the blade. “Why do you think we give a shit about your friends?”

Ichigo scowls. “If I go down we all do.”

“Exactly,” says Zangetsu. “We all die if you do. If you lose. We cannot lose, it cannot be an option. So you must become stronger. You can hear my voice now. You can wield my blade. But there is power inside of you that you do not know. Prepare yourself, Ichigo. We will make you stronger now.”

“To gain that strength, you must fight. Take your sword back from yourself.”

“Huh?!”

He only has a second to duck a sword strike at his head. Neive (he’s going with that for now. Snow) comes at him with a wild grin and vicious intent. A berserker who swings Zangetsu by the ribbon like a demented yo yo.

There’s something weird going on here. Ichigo knows it. He knows there’s something not right about this. The whole thing feels too familiar.

He doesn’t have time to contemplate it before he comes back at Neive with the best counters he can manage whilst unarmed.

Zangetsu is calm and methodical. Ichigo can see in him the commander, the strategist and the pragmatist that he has had to be when war clawed at his throat and shadowed his footsteps.

Neive is wild and vicious. Ichigo sees in him the desperate strength he’s drawn out at the last seconds, the hail mary victories that he's ripped from the claws of defeat time and time again.

The careful planning of Zangetsu, the intricate steps of a dance of strategy, falls away in the face of Neive’s brute forced, deadly strikes. He aims to win, even if he has to cut himself-who-is-Ichigo down to do it. Ichigo’s blood sings with it.

Even though he steps away from death, even though if he’s just a hair too slow he’ll lose his head, Ichigo has to stop himself from tipping his head back and laughing. Fighting like this, he feels almost free.

Almost.

He steps in close, suddenly, regardless of the fact that Zangetsu-the-sword cuts into his shoulder from the sharp curved heel. Blood dots the blue beneath their feet and Ichigo catch’s Neive’s arm between his hands. With a vicious twist that threatens to break his arm he’s forced to let lose the sword. The ribbon keeps it stuck to his wrist, and Ichigo twists his body until he’s back to front to Neive. He grabs the swords hand and swings it around until it’s a hair breadth away from both of their throats.

“What the fuck?” Neive asks, too loud in his ear.

Ichigo shoots him a crooked smile. “You only said I had to take it back.”

Neive stares at him, the angle awkward and painful to his neck. Finally, his doppleganger relaxes and legs the ribbon slip free. He steps back, letting Ichigo hold the sword on his own.

“Well I’ll be damned. Not bad, boss.”

“Why are you so surprised,” Ichigo hoists the blade onto his bleeding shoulder. “Aren’t we all part of the same person? Me?”

“So we are,” something in Zangetsu’s voice doesn’t sound entirely pleased about that. “You’ve done well.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Ichigo scowls at him. “There’s something wrong with the both of you, I want you to know.”

“By your own logic, there’s something wrong with you too,” Neive pointed out, far too cheerfully.

“Uh huh.” Ichigo rolls his eyes. “How was that supposed to make me stronger? It was a fight, I’ve been a million of them. “

Maybe more than that.

Zangetsu doesn’t answer right away.

Ichigo sits on the sideways building and motions the other him to do the same. Neive drops to his side, both of them criss cross and the blade long enough it covered both of their laps.

“Well?” he presses.

Zangetsu is not quite stoic enough for Ichigo to miss the way his mouth turns down and his shoulders draw together. He’s bracing himself for something.

“We are both… facets, of your power Ichigo. I needed to introduce you to him as well.”

“A simple hand shake wouldn’t do?” Ichigo scowled at him.

“We did shake hands,” Neive points out cheerfully.

“Not the point. Why the song and dance? Or are you all the drama in my soul too?”

Neive crows with laughter and slaps Ichigo hard on the back. Ichigo rocks with the force, hissing. His shoulder burns.

Zangetsu comes to crouch before him. He lays his hand on top of Ichigo’s shoulder and the pain eases minutely. The blood stops staining his shirt.

“What…?”

“I can stop your bleeding,” Zangetsu explains.

Ichigo nods, slowly. He remembers, faintly, injuries that weren’t as bad as they should have been, blood stains that were too small. Roman had commented on it once or twice.

“You’ve done it before, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Ichigo looks between the two of them. Their words ring through his head.

“How long have you been with me?”

Neive grins. Zangetsu looks at him solemnly.

“ Always , Ichigo.”

* * * * *

It’s over.

It’s over and they’ve won. The price was high (it’s higher every time and Ichigo dreads the day that one of them does not return to Chaldeas) but they snatched victory away with bloody hands and desperation.

They’ve won. Nero is not there to celebrate their victory. Karna has faded away. Arjuna had never really been one of them but Ichigo knows they owe him. Billy the Kid. Geronimo. Scathach herself. All gone.

And how many yet to go, before this bloody conflict is ended? This is one war won, and three yet to go. They’ve come more than halfway, but done so by the skin of their teeth.

What else can they do?

Run?

Hide?

Chaldeas is the only safe place and even that can’t last forever. Even if it could, Ichigo would never stand by, safe within the walls.

Ichigo looks down at the cracked tile of the Whitehouse and finds the tips of his shoes glittering. The war is over. It’s time to go.

“Ichigo?”

He looks to Kyo. His impassiveness is finally gone. His expression is open and horrified.

“It’s time for us to leave,” Ichigo says solemnly. It’s time for you to forget .

“No!” Kyo lunges for him, grabbing his hand, and for the first time Ichigo can see it clearly. His brown eyes, wide and open, his hand grasping desperately at Ichigo’s sleeve. One feeling sings through the touch.

Loneliness.

The lion that stalks in Kyo(in Sousuke) ’s shadow. The yawning the maw of solitude.

He’d broken past it, Ichigo realizes. Had dragged him off of that isolated pillar that Sousuke stood so precariously upon and brought him to stand on solid ground surrounded by heroes and rebels, emperors and goddesses. And Ichigo, just a human.

His throat tightens. What kind of place is seireitei that someone like Sousuke is so utterly alone?

“I don’t have a choice,” he says. He’s gone up to his knees and the light is rushing swiftly to his midsection. Eating him up. He can feel the familiar pull of ray shifting.

“Find me!” Sousuke grips his hand all the tighter. “Promise me. Find me in the future! Make me remember!”

Ichigo feels his hand start to dissolve in his grasp and does his best to hold on for a few seconds longer

“I’ll find you.” He vows

Light glitters, air rushes, and the last thing he sees is the crushing sorrow on Kyos face.

(Ichigo will not break his promise)

* * * * * *

#Ichigo Kurosaki #bleach fanfiction #BAMF!Ichigo Kurosaki #Ichigo Kurosaki is Ritsuka Fujimaru #gin ichimaru #bleach #bleach/fate grand order #Merlin Fate/Grand Order #kyo (SCoF)#sosuke aizen #shunsui kyoraku #juushiro ukitake #rukia kuchiki

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not-a-crow-i-swear · 3 years

Text

I don’t really believe in God, or a higher power. It’s really difficult for me to do that.

The reason is, ironically enough, my old church and religious family.

There’s mentions of animal abuse, child abuse, and things that are generally not fun. It is a very long post.

So, we begin with my aunt, who we’ll call Claire for simplicity. Claire was a short, round woman with the voice and attitude of a raging buffalo. She pit children against each other and played favorites. Claire took sick enjoyment out of hitting animals in front of her car. If they were trying to cross the street, she’d either speed up, or swerve, sometimes both, just to hit it before it reached the other curb. They reached the other side alright... Cats, dogs, squirrels, anything that walked across was fair game to her, because it was just an animal. She also left out cups of antifreeze for the stray cats in her neighborhood to drink and die, so they’d stay out of her trashy little flower garden. She claimed to believe in God. she took us (My cousins and I) to church every Sunday. On our way there, she would regale us with tales of the latest animal she’d hit on the road, or how she whipped her children and grandchildren into submission, telling us that she would do the same to us if we slipped up. She would constantly criticize us, and believed that if something was wrong with a child, you could beat it out of them. People with depression just needed to know that God loved them. I was diagnosed at 14, and she never treated me any different than she used to. She still treated me as a small machine who had taken the form of a child, a little worker drone for her to order around as she pleased because there was no harm in making the younger generation work until they dropped and then some. I was never good enough for Claire. She nitpicked everything I did. I talked too much, I didn’t smile genuinely enough, I paced around, I would never sit still, I never paid attention. These were probably symptoms of undiagnosed neurodivergence, which was something she believed could also be beaten out of a child. She called it “beating the stupid out of them.” She was particularly fond of shaming children in public. I hated Claire, but now I only see her as a pitiful old woman who took pleasure in harming other creatures because she never truly found joy. I forgive her for what she’s done, and hope she finds happiness in what should be her golden years.

Onto the church we were a part of. There were many groups and activities for children there that could have constituted as child labor. If we were ushers, tasked with letting people in and out of the sanctuary at the appointed times if they wanted to enter or leave, we were expected to clean the sanctuary. Nothing too gross, except the discarded candies that were left on the pews and floor. Just things that had been in the mouths of elderly folks or young children. We were not allowed to speak, and were expected to remember every instruction that was given to us, verbally, before the beginning of service. Now, if I may, I, as a child, and even to-day, cannot remember verbal instruction for long unless I repeat it to myself several times, and speaking was something I was not allowed to do. I wasn’t allowed to ask someone for the instructions, and god forbid I nick the sheet off of the leader to see for myself, I would’ve been told to ask first. But I digress. The church had a janitor, two actually, that got paid to do what we children did for free. Other free work we did was serving food during events where the multipurpose room was used. We then had to clean up the entire room after the event was finished. Sure, the adults helped here and there, but we had to bus tables, clean them, and all the while, stay silent. Clean the floor, remove half empty drink cups, clear tablecloths, decorations, put away chairs, all that stuff, when they had people that received money for the same things we were doing for completely free. The church ran off of child labor, that’s what I’m getting at. Claire, being hyper-involved in said church, of course had me involved in everything I could be, and guilt tripped me when I wasn’t interested in participating.

Next up, very surprisingly, is my very own mother. I find that she is at the root of most, if not all of my issues. My aversion to religion, my self-esteem issues, my inability to communicate properly, my lack of friends, my inability to make friends in the first place, my crippling separation anxiety, and also, my rejection of authority. My mom's called me a "curse from God" several times in the past while I was a child, still learning things. Understandably, I took this as her say calling me something to fear, regret, loathe, and avoid, as curses in the bible are not benign things. My mom would fall to her knees, look up at the ceiling and cry "God, what did I do to be cursed with children like this?" when she wanted to be extra dramatic. She said that if she wished I had a kid 10 times worse than me, that child would be the actual devil, so she wouldn't.

Let us not forget the favorite phrase of abusive Christians: Proverbs 13:24 King James Version24 “He that spareth his rod hateth his son: but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes.” Which has been interpreted to mean “If you do not beat your children, you do not love them”

In every corner of religion, I’ve noticed an abuser. Someone out for their own gain with no care for the person they benefit from. With Claire, she got bragging points, and small people to drag around and unload her problems onto, influencing them with her own toxic mindset. A disregard for any life that she considered lower than that of an adult, homophobia, and a disdain for anyone other than those who were part of the religion. Someone who demanded perfection from all she saw, and when she saw that which was not, punishment was to be bestowed. The church, who did not want to leave children idle, but overworked them to the point of exhaustion almost every day. There was no help or comfort in the words of the religious, only lip service provided to a congregation of hypocrites. The mother, my conceiver and birthed me, the one who I was supposed to trust and grow to love and cherish as I came into my own became a personal torment for me, making me feel inadequate at every turn, like a burden and a curse to be hated unless I shone in academics, I felt as if I was nothing but a failure. She forced me to pursue, hunger after, and to seek out knowledge, and only saw me when I did as such. She did not look at me as a child, she saw me as naught but a trophy to be bragged about and touted as an extension of herself, something that she had accomplished through me. I was crumbling from a young age, and breaking down, but she only saw my disobedience, my deceit, and my academic dishonesty as proof that I was to become nothing but a street waif.

Where was God during this? Was He biding His time until the right time to act? I was close to suicide, did God help me? Did God get me out of the situation? Did He appear to the people who abused me to help me? No, He did not. I clawed myself out of situations with emotional scars. I was not allowed rest or respite, and yet, prayed endlessly to God for him to save me.

And after all I’ve said, I leave you with a simple question. After all of that, why would I have an inclination to believe in God?

#atheism #personal experience #family #abuse tw #animal abuse tw #child abuse tw #homophobia tw #god #religion #parenting #biblequotes #bible verse

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gerbiloftriumph · 4 years

Photo

The Three Adventurers: To Comfort a King

(also on ao3)

Based on The Three Adventurers crossover webcomic by @captmickey: More specifically, based on this picture.

When Link and Guybrush come to Daventry to throw Graham a surprise birthday party, they themselves are surprised by events that occurred when they were separated. But they won't be kept apart no matter what. Fluffy, friendly, sickfic, comfort fic with mild hijinks ensue.

1/1, 6k

~*~*~

Something felt wrong.

The weather wasn’t helping: Daventry’s castle town was saturated. Rain skimmed off rooftops and splashed in puddles beneath drains. Dark clouds weighed down the sky, making it gloomy even in the middle of the afternoon. It would make sense for everyone to be inside, staying dry and safe and happy. But something felt wrong. Tense.

Some deep knight’s instinct made Link reach for his sword hilt. This didn’t feel like people were waiting out a monsoon. This felt lonely, completely still and silent but for the rain dashing against window panes. No candlelight in the windows, no murmured conversation behind doors. The baker’s shop especially drew his attention. Some sort of accident had befallen it since Link’s last visit several months ago: there was a big wooden board nailed across the front windows, like they had been broken. The glass must have already been swept up, and very well at that since he couldn’t see any glittering fragments nestled in the cracks between the cobblestones.

Unless it had been broken into and the glass was all inside.

Don’t jump to conclusions, he scolded himself. Still. He warily stepped around the tree growing in the courtyard, searching the shadows, trying to pin down what was sparking the unease in his chest.

“Aaaah,” Guybrush yelled. Link instantly sprang forward, sword half drawn, before realizing it was a cry of disappointment and not a warning of attack. “Aaah, those alchemists aren’t here!” Guybrush walked out of the empty shop, leaning his elbows on the railing in front of the door. “I wanted to talk to that old guy. He’s got the only rubber chicken supply for miles.”

“No one’s here,” Link said, knocking gingerly on Amaya’s door, not expecting an answer: the forge was clearly cold. No smoke rose from the blacksmith’s chimney. “Where do you suppose they are?”

“Probably the castle. I bet they’re afraid of flooding. This rain is no joke; that river we passed was looking pretty sketchy. Summer in Daventry, eh?”

"Monsoon season is only in July, Graham said. And only for a week or two at that, normally.”

“July in Daventry, eh?” Guybrush swung himself down the shop stairs, boots sloshing up a wave. “Shall we go on to the castle, give him the shock of his week?” He grinned.

No one in Daventry was expecting the pair of adventurers. They’d been coming to throw Graham a surprise birthday party. He was turning twenty-two, and that seemed like an important marker. Double identical digits and all. But they’d missed his birthday by several days at this point. They had been inescapably delayed.

By a side quest involving a cat stuck up a tree.

Link had insisted they dig up bait, use it to catch fish, trade the fish to a traveler for an empty bottle, find a farmer with a cow to fill the bottle with milk (the farmer first requested they clear his field of wolves, a dangerous task that took some more scheming), and then use the milk to tempt the cat down. The cat hadn’t been appreciative. It had nearly taken Link’s finger off with a swipe of its claws. Once they’d left, both with a healthy amount of scratches and bites and a half empty bottle of milk, Guybrush had asked why they hadn’t just tempted the cat down with the fish in the first place.

Anyway, the delay had taken a few days. Travelers with empty bottles were scarce on the road, apparently. So, now they were late.

It would definitely be a surprise, then.

Link patted his pouch to make sure their chosen birthday present was safe. He hoped Graham would like it. It was possibly sentimental gooey nonsense, but it was their sentimental gooey nonsense. “You’re right. I’m sure they’re at the castle. Let’s go.” He squeezed the end of his hat to clear some rainwater, but it didn’t help.

~*~*~

The castle gates were shut tight, the drawbridge high. The rain fell endlessly, rivulets pouring down the battlements and rushing into the moat. The water was swollen, pressing against the banks. It looked like it was going to spill onto the road if this kept up for too much longer. The moat monster eyed them with curiosity, nosing just above the waterline. Link wondered if it would sweep out on the road with the overflow, too, and what merry hell it could raise if it got into the main river.

“Don’t suppose there’s a doorbell on this side of the moat,” Guybrush said, holding his hand over his eyes to shield them.

“Generally, castles don’t have those.”

“Neither do ships, to be fair. We’ve got a voice activated alert system on my ship, though.”

“Do you really?” Link was impressed—it sounded high tech.

“Yeah. Bet Graham does, too. It works like this.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and roared so loudly that Link jumped half an inch off the ground, “OI, ANYONE HOME?”

“Oh. Is that all?”

“All you need.” He drew in a huge gulp of air and yelled again, “WE’RE HERE...” he paused and glanced at Link, whispering hastily, “what’s the polite lingo for a king, again?”

“Seeking an audience,” Link whispered back. That usually was what people said when they wanted to talk to Zelda.

“HERE TO SEEK AN AUDIENCE. WITH THE KING. WHO IS GRAHAM. CAN GRAHAM COME OUT TO PLAY?”

They waited. For a long time, there didn’t seem to be any movement from across the moat, though the monster playfully flicked its tail beneath the water and sent a little wave skimming over the edge to douse their boots. Finally, a shaken sounding voice called back, “Who goes there?”

“I go where I like,” Guybrush yelled.

“No, I mean. Uh. Who are you, exactly?” The voice was flustered.

“Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Pirate.™”

“And Link of Hyrule.”

“Not a pirate,” Guybrush added helpfully.

“Oh, it’s you two. Right. You were here for the coronation. Back again already? Um. Now...now isn’t a good time.”

“’Course not. It’s raining. But if you let us in, it would be a better time.”

“How did you even find out?” the guard asked distractedly. “They’ve only been back two days. We haven’t even told anyone yet.”

Link glanced at Guybrush, that little nervous thrill at the back of his neck rousing, a twitch in his fingers begging him to go for his sword. Some sense that something was wrong. “Told anyone what?” he asked.

“And Bramble’s pregnant, and this has all been very hard on her, and she doesn’t want to go back to the bakery right now, and who could possibly blame her after what happened to everyone?”

“Look, it’s raining very hard—”

“And the Hobblepots are absolutely destroying the kitchens. Number One is going to have a fit when he realizes, even if Muriel is helping King Graham.”

“Can we just—”

“And Muriel probably wouldn’t even allow you to see him, you know. He’s probably too drugged to even talk.”

“I’m sorry, repeat that?”

The guard hesitated. “Um.” They could see his helmet bobbing over the crenellations as he paced. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to tell anyone.”

“We’re not just anyone,” Link pointed out.

“Um. I mean.”

“Look, anyone could hear us from out here, right?” Guybrush said.

“Sure.”

“And you don’t want anyone to know whatever happened, right?” Guybrush continued, pacing a little to match the guard’s movements.

“That’s what Number One says, at least for now.”

“But if you let us in, then we’ll be inside, right? And then when you tell us, anyone won’t also hear. Because we’ll be inside, and anyone won’t be able to hear us in there.”

“I suppose?”

“And we’re not anyone. We’re Graham’s friends. We’re supposed to know. Whatever it is.”

“Um. I think that makes sense.” The guard seemed all the more uncertain. Whatever had happened must have been very serious to make him this befuddled. Or maybe he was always like this and Graham should hire better security. “I think that’s right.”

“Yes, it is. Now, let us in.”

“Of course, Mr. Threepwood, right away.”

While they waited for the guard to scurry around to the drawbridge crank, Guybrush muttered, “Also, I’m really sick of being wet.”

“You’re always on the ocean.”

“Not in it, though. Come on, he’s dropped the bridge. Hurry up.”

They scurried across, bubbles from the moat monster pursuing them. Unease nagged at Link, but he dared not speak until they had more of an idea about what was happening. The guard met them in the courtyard. He looked even more rattled up close. His armor wasn’t just damp with rain, but properly disheveled. It even looked like pieces were on backward. He smelled like wet pancakes, syrupy and pathetic.

“I mean, you’re his friends,” the guard babbled, wringing his hands. “It might help if he can see you.”

“Might help?” The apprehension was growing and growing. “Inside, now. And tell us what’s happening.”

“Hang on, I need to close the gate. The goblins might come again. He says it’s safe, at least I think he did, it’s all so jumbled, but…no one wants to leave it to chance, you know?”

“I don’t know.” Link was starting to get angry. “Can you just please tell us already?”

“Graham was kidnapped. With the villagers. A week and a half ago. By goblins. He just got back with everyone not two nights past. He’s really sick—he fainted almost as soon as he got to the castle, and he keeps screaming—nightmares, I guess—so Muriel drugged him to make him sleep. I really need to close the gate. Wait here.” And he vanished into the rain, leaving the two adventurers standing stunned and still and silent.

~*~*~

People had been tracking water into the castle, probably from running around in a panic. The plush carpet just beyond the doors was soggy under their feet. They wandered forward in a daze, damp carpet squishing behind them for a few paces until it dried out.

“I can’t believe it,” Link said, voice hoarse. “We’ve got to see him. Can you imagine? Goblins. I can’t imagine getting taken by bokoblins.”

“That’s because they’re about as smart as rocks,” Guybrush said. “I don’t know the goblins around here. They must be clever. Or Graham was daydreaming again. Easy to drop a sack over his head if he’s thinking about candy.”

Link elbowed him. “Be nice. This is serious.”

“I know,” he said. There was a glint in his eye, and his shoulders and jaw were tense. He had a sharpness to him, like a cutlass half drawn and ready to slice if someone looked at him wrong. “Come on.”

The hall was quiet. Candles flickered against the monsoon gray light, barely holding the darkness away despite it technically being the afternoon. A royal guard hurried past, clutching a tray. A teapot and cup were precariously balanced on top, and he was fiercely muttering under his breath about the state of the kitchen. He glanced at the visitors dripping rainwater on this once-dry section of carpet and frowned. “Dare I ask what you’re doing here?”

“We seek an audience with the king.”

He laughed bitterly and started reciting: “The king has been a little tied up lately. I’m afraid he’s indisposed to see anyone—the recent unexpected demands on his attention have been slightly overwhelming, so we’re feverishly requesting a safe delay in all visitations. Perhaps you can leave your contact information at the gate and we shall attend to you whenever we’re available again.”

“Yeah? The audience with the goblins was a bit rough?” Guybrush said.

The guard froze, teapot rattling on the tray. “Who told you.”

“Well. For starters, your speech wasn’t that subtle. Also the guard on the gate told us.”

“I’m going to kick Number Two out of the castle.”

Link stepped forward. “Sir, if I may. You might remember me. I’m Link, of Hyrule. The royal family there has had all sorts of trouble in its history, so I have some experience in matters like this. Also, I know Graham—uh, sorry—King Graham well. We used to travel together. He’ll want to see us as soon as he knows we’re here.”

“Did Number Two tell you how sick he is?” the guard asked suspiciously. “He might not even be awake to see you right now. You should probably just go away.”

Guybrush leaned forward, plucked the lid off the teapot, and inhaled deeply. “Steeping chamomile? And based on the temperature, it’ll be just perfect to drink by the time you get upstairs with it. He’s awake, or you’re hoping he will be. May as well let us come find out.” He glanced airily around the hall. “I seem to recall enough of the layout of this place from when we were here for the coronation. It wouldn’t be hard to find the way on our own.”

“I could probably have you escorted to the dungeon,” No1 said uneasily, “for…uh….”

“For obstructing tea, yes. But that would put a delay in your delivery. It’s getting colder as we stand here, you know. I’m sure if he’s sick he’ll want it hot and good. And the sooner he gets it, the happier he’ll be. If I know royalty, you want to keep them happy. It would be easier to go up together, wouldn’t you say?” That sharpness in his grin was starting to look like a shark’s—someone he loved was being threatened, and he wasn't going to stand back and let it happen, not if he had any say. He practically vibrated with urgency. “Also, there’s too much lavender in there.”

“Now, see here, you…” the guard hesitated again, sensing that sharp desperation, looked at his tray, looked at them, thought a moment, then said, “If you happen to follow me, I’m not going to stop you.” He started walking, muttering, “And lavender’s our main export anyway, I can’t help the amount they put in.”

~*~*~

There was another guard standing watch over the bedroom door. It looked like no one was taking chances. Bit late for all the caution, Link thought, but they’re doing their best.

As it turned out, though, the guard on the door wasn’t even going to be their last opposition.

No1 pushed past, bumping the royal bedchamber door open. Through it, the adventurers could just make out a shape huddled in the bed, and then they heard the most horrible, aching, sharp cough from Graham—it was the sort of ripping cough that made them flinch, that you could feel in your own throat. They started forward, anxious, but an arm shot across their path, blocking them. The door swung shut behind the guard, Graham’s agonized cough muffled.

“Oh! Lady Alchemist!” Guybrush swept an exaggerated bow. “Been a while. Love to chat. Bit busy right now. Got things to do, people to see. Could you just—”

She glared. “You can’t go in there.”

“You can’t stop us.” The joking edge vanished from Guybrush’s voice again.

“Do you wanna get sick? This is inappropriate anyway, seeing a king like this.”

“We demand to see him,” Link said.

“Yeah? And why should I let you do that?” It was amazing how a little old woman could threaten when she wanted. She bustled her way forward, puffing herself up. She was almost of a height with Link when she stood up on her toes.

From behind her another voice said: “Muriel. It’s okay. They’re his friends, remember?”

“Chester, you have the worst memory of all time, but you remember these two?”

“I remember anyone who tries to buy my whole rubber chicken supply out in one go with a lousy brass coin that doesn’t even have any value in Daventry.” Chester stuck out his hand for Guybrush to shake. “Nice to see you again, even in these circumstances. No, I still don’t have any inflatable cutlasses for sale.”

A friendly response at last. A memory stirred: kidnapped with the villagers. “We heard a little bit of what happened. Are you okay? Were you part of it?” Link asked.

“That we were, that we were. Nasty little things, those goblins. If it hadn’t been for him,” Chester thumbed at the closed door, and they could just make out another hacking cough, “we would have been in a lot more trouble. I’m not sure anyone would have come back.” He glanced down the hall, and whispered, “I think there was something intentional going on. Someone had it in for him.”

“Do you think they’ll try again?” Link wasn’t a stranger to assassination attempts. Keeping Zelda safe was a full-time prospect sometimes. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the stress of having another royal friend at risk.

“Not in the same way,” Chester said. “These guards,” he gestured at the one standing nearby, “are all puffed up since they got caught flatfoot, but they’ll smooth out. It won’t happen twice like it did, I can promise that. If I know who did it, and I think I do, repetition isn’t really his style, not if he can go bigger and better. Creativity’s the word. Besides, I think Graham’s got some ideas about opening up diplomacy talks with the goblins to prevent anything like this happening again. But I think there’s someone you’d rather hear all this from instead of me.”

“No,” Muriel said sharply. “I don’t care that they’re friends. That’s not a good idea for him, or them, and you know it.” She looked to the guard, like she was going to ask for help with chasing these two off. “Clear off. Maybe later you can see him. Right now is not appropriate, and I will have you chased out of this castle if I must.”

Guybrush opened his mouth to start arguing again, but Link gently touched his shoulder. She had precedence over them in this situation. That guard would listen to her, and chase them out, and then they would be much further from their goal.

“You’re right,” Link told Muriel. “We shouldn’t go through that door.”

“Just so,” she said, eyeing him a bit suspiciously, more than surprised that he was giving in. “So, shoo.”

“Oh, Muriel,” Chester sighed. “It wouldn’t hurt.”

“It would hurt them after I was through with them,” she snapped. “Go on, shoo.”

Link dragged Guybrush down the hall by the hand, steering him into one of the bedrooms down the corridor once Muriel had turned her back.

“Come on, I could have turned on the charm and gotten us in there,” Guybrush complained. “Now we probably won’t get to see him for days and I’m not willing to wait that long.”

“Look, I promised we wouldn’t go through the door,” Link said. He reached into his bag and withdrew his grappling hook. “Didn’t say anything about a window.”

“Aaahhh.”

~*~*~

On reflection, Link realized, this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe they should have tried to persuade Muriel after all. Or maybe if they’d started screaming, Graham would have heard them and ordered them in (unless the tea had been drugged to make him sleep, or he didn’t actually want them to see him like this after all). Now, Link and Guybrush were dangling off the side of the castle, clinging to the grappling hook rope, rain making everything slippery and hard to navigate.

“Are you sure this is the right window?”

“Got to be,” Link said. He used his elbow to swipe some of the rainwater out of his eyes. “I did the calculations. It’s gotta be it. This time.” (They’d already tried two other windows, both of which had led to empty bedrooms. One of them might have been where the Hobblepots were staying, based on the array of random junk everywhere that seemed to belong to Chester, but luckily the two alchemists were out doing something else. Probably still standing guard in front of Graham’s door. Presumably the Feys and Miss Blackstone were staying elsewhere in the castle, because no one screamed when the adventurers poked their noses over the windowsills and swatted them down.)

They could make out the warm flickering glow of a lit fireplace in the window above them, which at least matched what they had glimpsed through the door of Graham’s room. They just had to get there without sliding down the rope and falling fifty feet to the treetops. Guybrush was dangling near the bottom of the rope, finding it difficult to get purchase on the slick castle walls with his boots. “They’re going to think we’re invaders and shoot us down,” he muttered. “They’re going to think we’re goblins back to finish the job we started.”

“Be quiet and climb,” Link said, glancing nervously side to side in case there were a few royal guards taking aim at them from the balconies or parapets. No one was.

Except…Royal Guard Number One was looking down at them.

He had opened the window and was leaning against the sill, staring down. His chin was propped on his hands, but with his helmet on, there was no way to tell if he was enjoying this or furious.

Link slid down the rope a few feet in his frozen panic, knocking into Guybrush, who yelped and locked the rope tighter around his leg so they wouldn’t fall, and the two of them grinned guiltily up at the royal guard.

He sighed heavily (they could hear it over the rain, he was so loud and flustered), gripped the rope, and started to heave them up.

~*~*~

The room beyond was cozy, the large array of candles keeping the gloom (and perhaps those nightmares the guard had spoken of) at bay. Graham, eyes closed, was propped up against a pile of pillows in bed, slipping slowly at the delivered cup of tea and wincing at every swallow. No1 hoisted the two embarrassed adventurers over the windowsill and they fell to the ground, sloppy and squishy with rainwater. Graham looked up when he heard them, and his face—drawn, pale—lit up with a huge smile. He put the teacup down on the bedside table amongst a dizzying array of cups and pots and vials and bandages and tissues and ingredients brought by the Hobblepots.

“Number One said you were here,” he said, nodding toward the royal guard. His voice was raspy. “I kind of expected you to come in the door instead of the window, though.”

No1 took off his helmet and shook the rainwater off it, fluffing the uniform’s feather back up and putting it in front of the fireplace to dry. He bristled his moustache, but it looked more like he was hiding a smile instead of annoyance. He helped the two adventurers to their feet, insisted they wait for a second so they wouldn’t drip water everywhere, pulled some towels from a pile neatly folded by a large copper tub shoved in the corner, wrapped them up, and then let them go. Immediately, they rushed to their friend’s side. Link grabbed Graham’s hand out of some desperate instinct, squeezing hard. Graham squeezed back as hard as he could—which wasn’t particularly hard.

“I’m so sorry we weren’t here,” Link said. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? What happened? We don’t have the details. Oh, Graham....”

He looked absolutely awful. His bedhair, usually pretty hilarious anyway, was a tangled mess from tossing and turning in his sleep. His eyes were ringed with dark exhaustion, making it look like he’d been punched, but they were bright with a lingering fever, too. Link could feel the weakness in his friend’s trembling fingers. Graham was swimming in some ridiculously oversized nightshirt that more or less swallowed him up. It gaped here and there on his thin frame, and they could see the edges of bruises beneath it on his arms: bruises that, even partially glimpsed, looked uncomfortably like fingerprints.

“A kidnapping,” Guybrush said, shaking his head. He grinned mischievously, “Or was it a kingnapping?”

Link’s ears flattened, and the sheer look he shot Guybrush could have knocked a moblin over. “You’re going to end up right next to him nursing a black eye instead of nursing the flu,” he hissed. But Graham was laughing, and Link subsided, though he was still too annoyed to perk his ears up again. He was wary of pushing it if Graham wasn’t ready to talk yet, but he was desperate to know, to help in any way he could. “Are you...is it...are you up to telling us what happened?”

“No, I don’t have the energy to get up. But I can be down for telling it.”

Link dropped his head into his hands and moaned, “I can’t stand being around you two.”

“I can’t stand either, so it’s okay,” Graham said, patting Link gently on the shoulder.

“Aaaargh!”

“You can’t be mad at him,” Guybrush said. “He outranks you now—his hat’s shinier than yours.”

“Yes, my crowning achievement,” Graham agreed. “But that doesn’t make you beanie-th me.”

“Ahh, you’re fedorable when you’re being humble,” Guybrush said, “but you don’t need to downplay your escapades.”

“I’m not that far ahead, really,” Graham said.

“You’re going to make me sick,” Link sighed.

“If you hang around me much longer, you will be,” Graham said, and the laughter faded from his scratchy voice. “I heard Muriel. I’m glad you’re here, absolutely, but...she’s right, you know. You shouldn’t be in here. I’m not safe to be around, I think. I might give you this.” He gestured vaguely at his throat. “You don’t want it, believe me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not going anywhere.” Guybrush sat down so hard on the bed that Graham bounced. “Now. It’s time for you to tell us one of those stories you like to tell. But only If you’re ready.”

And so, after a pause and a sip of lukewarm tea, Graham began. The day had begun in frustration in the throne room and had ended in fear in a goblin cell. He kept rubbing his wrists, remembering the bite of ropes, until Link held his hands again.

He told of huge caverns, of stalactites dripping water into secret pools, of glowing salamanders scampering through the shadows, of mushrooms in every color casting off glittering spores. He told of sharp spears and heavy padlocks, of giant rats and whispered escape plans. There were costumes and stories: Cinderella and Rumplestiltskin. Porridge, sweetycakes, and frogs. Friends and enemies, and some people that might have been both in equal measure. Shrouds of stone armor, unbending bars and sharp bolt cutters, stolen beds, stolen people. The goblin king, his courtiers, and the book written by a former friend that had incited the goblins and started it all.

He talked for a long time, his voice wavering in and out. Sometimes he had to stop and take a breath, drink tea, rub his aching throat. He sank lower into the pillows, looking more worn out, but he stubbornly refused to sleep no matter how often they suggested it. Whenever these breaks happened, Link and Guybrush sat a little closer together and waited with him in comforting silence. They offered to at least give him a proper long break and finish the rest later, but he wanted to tell the story. Wanted to explain it from start to finish. “It helps,” he said. “Even if it hurts a bit.” He choked down another cough and sipped at a fresh cup of tea No1 had brought. No1 had also silently brought Guybrush and Link their own mugs, unasked and unexpected. They had crowns painted on them. The lavender tickled their noses, and the trio drank in quiet but good company.

At some point, Muriel and Chester came in to prep medicine doses. She saw the adventurers huddled together and took a step back, startled and angry, and she opened her mouth start yelling, but Graham cut her off, hastily saying, “Ahh, Muriel, you remember my best friends, right? I’m so glad they’ve come to visit. Link, Guybrush, meet Muriel and Chester Hobblepot, the greatest alchemists in the country.” He gave her a pleading, sopping kitten sort of look, breath held in nervous anticipation.

She deflated with a weary sigh—the look she gave them told Link and Guybrush they were destined for a sickbed next. “He should be sleeping right now,” she warned them.

“That’s what we told him,” Link replied, relief tinging his words now that he knew his position on this bed was secure. “He says no.”

“We’ve been over this,” Muriel said. She reached for a cup that Graham had been especially careful to avoid and tried to offer it to him. “You were supposed to drink this an hour ago. You can’t avoid your dreams forever.”

“I can definitely put them off,” Graham said, crossing his arms so she couldn’t force it on him. “Muriel, please. Just a little longer. I don’t want to sleep. It’s not...it’s not the nightmares this time, honestly. I’m just trying to explain things. I think straightening everything out, talking through it...it’s going to help the nightmares stop. Please.”

She pursed her lips, then sighed and stepped back. “Fine. This once, fine. But I’m going to swap those bandages out now anyway.”

Guybrush half stood. “Oh. Should we leave?”

Graham grabbed his sleeve. “N-no, please don’t. I’d like...please don’t go. I didn’t tell you this part, but...um. To make sure I wasn’t smuggling anything, the goblins would...literally shake me down. Upside down. And they’ve got hard hands.” Graham slipped up his nightshirt sleeve, and showed off some of the half-glimpsed fingerprint-shaped bruises. “These are mostly faded. It’s my legs that are...badly bruised. My own weight against their hands. That’s all.”

“This makes them heal faster,” Muriel said, plucking a jar from the tray. Link reached for it automatically, as curious about healing potions as ever. The jar felt icy cold in his hands, almost frosted over despite the warmth of the room. “Green ice scale,” she told him. “Good for deep soothing.”

Guybrush let Graham lean against him while they reapplied the icy goop and rewrapped the bandages so the bedsheets wouldn’t stain green. Graham shuddered, his shoulder pressed hard against Guybrush’s as he flinched away from Muriel’s touch. “It’s so much colder than it was last time,” he muttered.

“I think you just weren’t paying attention the first time,” Muriel replied.

Link stuck a finger in the jar and studied the gel. “Good for burns?” he asked.

“Plan on fighting a dragon soon?” Chester said.

“Fire arrows can have interesting consequences.”

“I’ll get some together for you. It’s a good snack on a hot day, too.”

“I’ll, ah, keep that in mind next time I’m in in the Gerudo Desert, thanks.”

Guybrush was staring at Graham’s bruises. It was almost possible to make out individual handprints in the colorful marks on his shins. “Those are nasty.”

“Just don’t poke them,” Graham said. “They were worse, if you can believe it. How much longer, Muriel?”

“Oh, a week, maybe. This knocks the heal time down, but doesn’t erase ‘em. I could go global if I had something that just erased ‘em.” She picked up yet another little pot from the hoard she had gathered, whisked off the lid, and offered the contents to Link and Guybrush. There were tiny little white leaves in it, crisscrossed with green veins. They smelled like extreme mint, like you could flavor an entire moat’s worth of lemonade with one leaf. It made Link feel a little nauseous. “You’re going to want this. Put it under your tongue and it’ll melt. One an hour. I’ll give you both your own bags of it, but start with this for now.”

After she left, the story picked up where it had left off, details untangling like knotted ropes, until Graham started to reach a rough conclusion.

“As for me getting sick. It’s probably not hard to guess. Muriel thinks...I mean, the stress alone was hard, but my cell was always wet. The rainwater kept finding channels down. It was one big puddle most of the time. And there wasn’t a lot of food to go around after the porridge ran out, and I couldn’t let Bramble go hungry, or the Hobblepots, or Amaya. It…it wasn’t….” He coughed, a hacking wheeze that rattled his chest. “I’m lucky. It could have been worse. I could have gotten like this before escaping. But...but I couldn’t let that happen. I think I didn’t let myself get sick until we were free. Everyone was depending on me, you know.

“But...but it was hard. To be alone for so long. In the end, Bramble and I found the goblin king together. I told him a story about what it means to be afraid. What it means to get too much responsibility too fast, to not know what you’re doing, and how friends are the only way to push forward and keep going. And that, a story about friends, was a story he liked, and in that place where stories hold more sway than kings, it was enough, and he let me, let all my friends, go.”

Link and Guybrush glanced at each other. Link breathed deeply: “Graham. The reason we’re here. It’s not because of what happened...we didn’t even know until today. We were here for a different reason at first. This...this isn’t the way we would have wanted to do this, but...” He and Guybrush leaned cheek to cheek together and shrieked “Happy birthday!” so loudly that No1, who had actually not been listening at all, almost fell out of the rocking chair. Link shoved his hand into his bag and withdrew a small wrapped box with a crumpled bow pasted on top.

“It isn’t much,” Link said apologetically. “It’s late. You had your birthday...” his voice faded.

“In that cell, yeah,” Graham agreed. His eyes were sparkling with excitement, though, and he spoke lightly. “It wasn’t that bad. I sang to the salamanders, and Wente made me a special sweetycake, somehow. But, guys, you didn’t need to do this.” He took the proffered gift all the same and slipped off the rumbled ribbon.

“It’s an engraving we had done,” Guybrush leaned forward, watching as Graham extricated a charm and chain. “I think it’s kinda cheesy, but Elaine and Zelda thought it was clever. They helped with the design.”

The charm itself was styled like a piece of eight, with two crossed swords and a bow and arrow printed on top—clearly tiny little renditions of their weapons of choice. Graham ran his fingers along the edge, finding a little latch and flipping it open like a locket. It contained an image of the three of them, arms flung over shoulders, apparently mid-joke and laughing together.

Link said, “We thought...well, it’s your first birthday as a king, and we were worried you might, y’know, get too busy and distracted and...maybe forgetful. Zelda said that’s normal, for a newly responsible royal. But we thought that together we did so much, and even if we can’t be here in person all the time for you as a king, we...well, I guess it’s sort of silly after all that happened, when you really did need us and we weren’t there for you then to help protect you and Daventry and all, but—”

“But you’re here. Now. And that’s all that matters to me. It’s perfect. I love it.” He pulled the chain over his head, and the charm rested against his chest. Graham bit his lip. “It’s probably too late, but...I mean, I’m definitely contagious, but...”

He didn’t have to finish saying it. His friends launched themselves at him and grabbed him in a tight hug. They stayed together like that for a long time, regret and gratitude and everything held in silence. They could handle anything when they were apart, but they were stronger together, and they reveled in it.

(Later, Link’s throat started to ache and Guybrush started coughing, but they both agreed it was worth it. Muriel just sighed and ordered more soup.)

#captmickey #King's Quest #kings quest #King Graham #the three adventurers #chester hobblepot #Muriel Hobblepot #this post is protected by the royal guards #monkey island #legend of zelda #ch2 #fic'ing #tcak

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elleonmybeloved · 4 years

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Field Day

Title: Field Day Author: PinkPerfume Fandom: Shall We Date? Obey me! Pairing: Asmodeus/MC Rating: Teen & Up Chapter: 1/? Tags: Demon & Angel Blood AU, Demons are slightly larger than in cannon by about a foot or two each, Secret Crush, Awkward pining, Asmodeus is hoe-rny as usual, Flirting, Leading up to that explicit rating in the second chapter cause you know me Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25145122/chapters/60926767

Summary:

Once a week, the human exchange students, accompanied by the seven demon brothers as well as Lord Diavolo and a few of his subordinates make a trip to a rocky place out in the wilderness of the Devildom to conduct physical testing on the humans’ developing abilities. Mary-Catherine and her fellow once-humans aren't sure why Lord Diavolo injected them with the demon and angel blood that gave them their abilities, but participation in the testing is mandatory. But if you forget the part where they're being tested like lab rats, it feels a lot like a fun school field day! Complete with packed lunches and a friendly sense of competition.

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

“I hope you’re ready to eat my dust this time. I’ve grown two inches since last week.”

“Don’t get a big head. You got dog demon blood, not speed demon. Besides, not being able to spit acid at obstacles in your way is gonna slow you down.”

“I’d really appreciate it if you stopped doing that. Just because you look a lot more like a snake now doesn’t mean you need to act like one.”

“- Demon cobra. Not just a snake.”

“I know you’re proud of that, but honestly, I’m more jealous of the girl who got hawk demon blood. You know she has wings now, right?”

“What?! They shouldn’t let her participate in the race, it’s totally not fair.”

“It’s not actually a race, you guys.”

“Just because they’re testing us doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun with it. Lord Diavolo encouraged us to be competitive.”

Excited chattering and the rumble of the vehicle’s engine made for a charged atmosphere that Mary-Catherine was enjoying listening to, leaning her head against the glass of the window to hide her amused smile at the antics. Choosing to survey the odd shapes of plants and pigmented rock passing by outside as she listened, she angled her head so that the small tightly curled horns at her forehead weren’t scraping against the glass.

Once a week, the human exchange students, accompanied by the seven demon brothers as well as Lord Diavolo and a few of his subordinates made the trip to a rocky place out in the wilderness of the Devildom to conduct physical testing on the humans’ developing abilities.

Piled into some kind of all-terrain vehicle with such ridiculous ground clearance that Mary-Catherine had needed assistance to haul herself up into it, they were shuttled to the testing site. The vehicle was huge and had several rows of seats, so everybody just called it “The Bus.” Before them on the long straight road, the Demon lord’s sleek black limo - driven by Barbatos - led the way down the path.

Turning off on the dirt path, they pulled up to the site. As the passengers - twenty-five strong, counting the brothers - filed out of the vehicle, they cordoned off into groups like a separation of oil and water.

Mary-Catherine confidently placed herself next to the people she knew best. Donte - a young man with horned-toad demon blood who she’d never seen not dressed up in attractive punk outfits that suited his dark brown curls and yellow-green striped horns perfectly. Despite all the purple dust out here, she had yet to see any of it attach itself to his outfit.

Meanwhile, both her thick cargo pants and her usual red tank top already had a few purple smudges.

To his left, Emma, a curvy young woman in all black whose sharp feline teeth glinted against her dark lipstick, and though the pair of furry black ears at the top of head twitched invitingly, you’d have to be stupid to touch them - or any part of her - without her explicit say so. Her claws were just as sharp as her eyeliner and stung quite badly.

Mary-Catherine had never heard her give anyone that say so. Only repeated threats to anybody who would listen about just exactly the kind of dark apocalypse she would continuously rain on Diavolo and the demon brothers & co. until they returned her cat Lucy to her, or vice versa.

Standing aloof with a familiar thoughtful expression to her right, a picture of elegance and maturity that M-C only hoped she’d one day achieve, was Annika. The blonde witch had a silent strength and seemed the least phased about her residency in the devildom of all the humans Mary-Catherine knew. She even stood up to Lucifer on a regular basis.

Mary had to avoid flinching like a startled lamb every time he looked in her mere direction. In her defense, she was part sheep now, and she had no reason to believe demon sheep were any braver than those in the overworld. Though as recent months had attested, they had the same urge for salt and were about 5 times faster than a regular one running at full tilt.

Once given their instructions, and oddly-shaped “evaluators” to attach to their D.D.D.s, the four of them plus a few she was less familiar with made off for the climbing ground. As usual, the groups moved around three areas in a rotation. A rock-littered circuit of road for testing speed, agility, and endurance, a level field of purple grass and several small, dead-looking trees with painted orange Xs on them that served as a combat ground for testing offensive abilities, and a large outcropping of porous green rock to test their ability to scale rough vertical terrain.

Something of a makeshift security team, the demon brothers spread out to stand their usual guard over the three groups. Considering their powers and how each demon towered at least a foot over any regular human even in their “human” forms, on their very first outing Mary-Catherine had foolishly assumed none of the other occupants of this realm would dare try to attack the group.

Grimacing as she tied up her hair and prepared to climb, she tried to blink away the image of the explosion of goop and gore and the charred remains that had been left of the few dissenting demons who’d scarcely touched her human companions before Satan had reduced them to pulp. Though unsure of how Lucifer had torched the ones who’d gone after his group, she was pretty sure she’d never get the image of their blackened skulls out of her mind.

“What’s with the long face? You’re still the reigning champion of this rock, goat-girl.”

Looking up, she recognized the self-proclaimed “cobra” guy from earlier on the bus. Despite his competitive statement, the grin on his face was friendly. His curly black hair and olive skin tone made for a vivid contrast against his vertical pupiled green eyes. She’d seen him a few times at breakfast and wasn’t certain but she thought his name was Kevin?

“Oh nothing. I was just wondering if they were going to make me lick more rocks today. Kind of reminds me of when I used to chaperone church summer camp and all the kids would collect rocks and dare each other to hold it in their mouth for twenty seconds or eat a worm.”

Mary-Catherine paused, “-But my horns alone would’ve been even more scandalous than the time one of the adults caught someone with a Harry Potter book sooo I guess it’s not really that similar!��

“Oh trust me I doubt my mamá would be happy to see what I look like now, but that doesn’t mean I would say no to a chance to become spiderman.”

“Hey, if anybody is becoming spiderman, I think it might be me.” Donte spoke up from behind them, looking incredulously at his hand which was pressed against the wall of rock. “Check this out.”

He then demonstrated how with an odd suction noise, his hands clung to the rock of their own accord. Prying them off and then repeating the motion, he got better at the detachment process with each press.

“Maybe poisonous demon frogs can stick to things?” Mary-Catherine mused. “I watched this discovery channel episode on tree frogs once that explained how their secretion of toe pad mucous-”

“-Mucous?!?” Donte scrutinized his hands in dismay, but after finding no such secretions he breathed a sigh of relief. “The only thing getting on my hands is this rock while I climb it’s ass. See you at the top!”

Pressing the start button on her evaluator, she climbed up after him, hearing Kevin start his descent as well. She’d gotten a bit of experience with this sort of outdoors stuff at previously said church-camp, but that was nowhere near her current condition, as she easily overtook both of her human companions with no regard for the steepness of her path. Back then, she’d needed a hardness and ropes. Now, she sought out each handhold instinctively like the top of the rock was calling her.

“At least I’m not bleating.” She sighed, and from below her Kevin barked out a laugh.

“I imagine it would come out sounding more like a warbled growl.” He said. “I’ve seen the pictures you know.”

“Hey- don’t go looking at a girl’s demon pictures!” A girl lower down on the rock called up to them.

Mary-Catherine blushed and hastily pulled herself up the remaining few feet of the rock and rolled to the side as she clicked stop on her evaluator.

“Not her pictures, the pictures of whatever they injected her with!” Kevin complained, but M-C could hear the mirth in his voice.

Walking over to a smoother patch of rock, she sat down to wait for the rest of them to finish their climb. Gazing at the ground far below her, she noticed Emma and Beelzebub talking next to a couple of camp-chairs.

She had noticed before that as an act of cat-less mutiny, Emma often refused to take part in the tests, but as M-C watched her speaking amicably with the demon beside her, who was eating… something round and dripping a brightly colored liquid she could make out from here, Emma gestured towards the rock several times with a wistful expression.

Rising to get a better look, Mary-Catherine began absent mindedly stretching, catching her ankle and bending her leg with a gentle pull.

It was a bit too far for her to make out exactly what they were saying - though some of her genetically enhanced fellow humans probably could - but M-C imagined that Emma was saying something along the lines of how much she wanted to climb the ‘actual shit outta that rock’ but wouldn’t budge an inch until they gave her back her precious Lucy. Beel seemed to nod sympathetically and despite not halting in his eating process, continue the conversation.

And then he moved to grab another of whatever it was he was eating, revealing the other demon who had come to watch over the climbing group. Having used the absolute swole unit of his demon brother’s body to provide him with shade, the Avatar of Lust reclined elegantly in - well it wasn’t really a camping chair, but it looked like it could be collapsed and relocated - his seat, meticulously painting his nails.

Freezing awkwardly midstretch, both arms clasped high above her head, she was for the hundredth? thousandth? time struck by just how gorgeous of a man Asmodeus was. Not a man, she reminded herself, a demon. Good Lord in Heaven, those arms… he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows to avoid getting nail polish on his shirt, and it exposed the beautiful lean muscle of his forearms. Burnt amber eyes focused intensely on his handiwork, his pale perfectly shaped lips pursed in concentration… he had an angular face that made him look like both like the dangerous being he was, and a sculpture of an angel at the same time.

As if aware he was being ogled, he paused his preening and turned his head, looking up her way at the top of the rock. Panicking, she hastily looked elsewhere, pretending to continue her stretches as if she hadn’t been meaning to glance in his direction…

Nothing to see here!

Soon the others joined her at the top of the rock, and with the protection of anonymity, Mary-Catherine risked another gaze his way.

Oh good, he’s back to working on his nails.

Getting caught looking at people was so awkward, hopefully he hadn’t thought anything of what he saw of her brief gaze. She was pretty sure she was safe, it was unlikely he was that interested in any measly humans anyways.

“So what was your score?”

Mary-Catherine spooked so hard she jumped, turning to give Kevin a wounded look.

“You’re a jumpy one, huh? Must be those prey instincts. Well, what was it?”

“A minute and forty three seconds.” Mary-Catherine said, wondering what kind of predator hunted sheep demons. Probably had lots of teeth.

“Guess I just need to be a minute and fifteen seconds faster next time.”

“I’m sure you can do it.” She said, giving him an encouraging smile. “If they ever decide to hand out a prize, you’ve got it in the bag.”

“Now there’s an idea.” Donte piped up, moving into step beside them as the group began to descend the smooth sloped side of the rock. “I already know what I want as a prize.”

“What do you want?” She couldn’t really think of anything a demon would have to give as a good present. She’d seen their food. And the mall. They had weird taste.

“Not telling.” Donte said in a cheeky tone that even she could read as being… salacious in nature. Annika gave him one of her disapproving mother looks and it just made him sprout a mischievous little grin.

“I’ve had my eye on a spellbook in Satan’s library I would very much like to have.” Annika said, as if trying to steer the conversation off the downhill path it was otherwise going. It was a good thing Emma wasn’t here or that’d be a moot effort.

“Uhhh, boring!” Kevin crossed his arms. “Come on guys, we’re practically in hell. I want a weapon or something with strong dark magic powers.”

One of the other girls agreed with him, and began a very enthusiastic conversation about swords and axes and other sharp pointy things. Mary-Catherine considered the question herself for a few moments, but the only thing she could think of was for Lucifer to give her her Bible back. He’d taken it away a couple weeks ago after she’d done something he hadn’t approved of and used it as an excuse to confiscate the book. She wasn’t even sure how he’d known she had it, but maybe he’d been under the false impression that she was religious?

Normally she wouldn’t have been upset about such a thing, but even though she was no longer the good devout Catholic girl her parents had raised her to be, her grandmother had given her that Bible. They’d been quite close before she passed away five years ago to lung cancer. She was much too terrified of the fallen angel to even try to get it back though. Regardless, as far as prizes go that was a bit more personal than she was comfortable with sharing.

“I think a week off school would be nice!” She said instead, and was met with a resounding murmur of agreement from the crowd.

“How about a whole month?”

---

Under the protection of Belphegor and Leviathan this time, Mary-Catherine and her group took turns sprinting on the track. Unsurprisingly, Kevin’s dog demon-blooded friend blew all competition out the water. Once that guy got started he was like Usain Bolt on steroids. Though she put in the effort expected of her to avoid getting chided, M-C didn’t bother to run full tilt. She didn’t really like this part anyways. It was the most like a test, grueling and repetitive instead of fun, and reminded her of how she was here against her will.

She was grateful when they broke for lunch, gathering around a few hastily erected plastic tables. Taking the brown bag and two water bottles, she found a somewhat shady spot to sit under a scary looking tree and redid her sagging ponytail, lamenting the state of her side braid. She downed a whole bottle of water before getting into her food.

It was kind of funny, it was the same typical sandwich chips and apple combo she was used to on outdoor events like these, but the meat was purple and the lettuce that poked out at the sides was bright red. The fruit looked like an apple, but tasted like an orange and was the color of a banana.

She’d learned to just trust Lord Diavolo to know what humans could eat, and didn’t ask what everything was anymore. One of the transfer students had been curious at breakfast and as a result she had become aware of the fact that on several occasions she had ingested eggs from a reptilian demon species called an angiphore which looked like a cross between a platypus and one of those monstrous looking fish that lived really deep in the ocean.

The thought made her choke on her mouthful of water and most of it escaped out her lips down her throat to soak into the fabric of her top above her breast.

“Oh, gosh darn it.” Of course she had nothing to dab at it with. Well, at least the cool water felt kind of nice dripping down her neck, as hot as she was after such rigorous exercise.

“Oh my, looks like someone overestimated how much they could swallow~”

Mary-Catherine scarcely had time to process that someone had managed to approach her so silently before, bending elegantly at the waist, Asmodeus himself was already pressing a handkerchief against her neck with a chiding tut.

At her stiff reaction, he smiled, looking very much like the cat that ate the canary. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of sweetie, you’re not the first one to do such a thing.”

Mary-Catherine flushed and searched for a sufficiently indignant reply, realizing he was making fun of her. But before she could come up with something, he moved in closer, dragging the cloth against her bottom lip. It was such a shamelessly demanding motion, silencing her with ease.

“You must’ve been thirsty, poor thing.” He crooned, and M-C decided to swallow her pride and just enjoy the opportunity to get such a close up look at his gorgeous face. At this angle, she could see how long his strawberry-blonde eyelashes were as they brushed the smooth, immaculate skin of his cheeks.

“It’s… pretty hot.” The words were already on her mind, so unfortunately that’s what came out of her mouth instead of denying such an obvious trap.

It was worth it for the delighted, full-teeth grin he made. “I agree.”

His fingers skirted the hem of her tank top, and with a gentle pluck, he lifted the fabric to dab a few times at the wet top of her breast. But instead of lingering, with a simple wink, he retracted the handkerchief and stood up before she could even begin freaking out about it.

“Thanks.” She said when her brain caught up, as he started to leave.

“Any time, honey.~” He replied without turning back, and was soon out of sight.

Mary-Catherine gave a dry swallow and reached for her water bottle.

~~~

The rest of the afternoon proved uneventful. Oviumalum, or the certain species of demon sheep blood she’d been injected with, apparently had the ability to rapidly elongate and thrust out their 4 sets of horns in front of them like some kind of projectile impaler. Their horns were also a key ingredient in a certain type of hallucinogenic drug, when ground to a powder.

The meager set of horns on Mary-Catherine’s forehead was sharp, and made of the same components, but so far showed no signs of developing any projectile abilities. As such, she simply had to hold still while they took a sample of her horns, ears, and tail and then was free to sit on the sidelines for most of the hour.

Lucifer had handed her a textbook about the properties of various demonic plants and encouraged her to study during the downtime.

“Like many here, you would do well to improve your academics. Here.” He’d said in that aloof tone, like she was some filthy human bug under his boot.

“Oh…” She’d said. “Well, actually, that’s-”

“You’re welcome.” He’d cut off her attempt to decline with a glare. “I hope I see an improvement in your grade reports soon.”

Mary-Catherine couldn’t help but shut up after that and bitterly open the book in obedience. His crimson stare, like the blood she was sure he was not hesitant to shed, was just too frightening. But, more interested in watching the increasingly bizarre developing abilities of her fellow humans, she’d just skimmed the pages and pretended to read.

Beside Lord Diavolo’s delight at Donte’s newfound ability, nothing else of note happened. It was amusing to watch Emma claw several inch deep scores into a variety of materials she’d never assume could even be scratched, so that’s what she’d done until they’d blown their whistle to announce that it was time to return to the House of Lamentation.

Now, she was trailing after the gaggle of tired, test-tried students, thinking about whether she was going to bathe, sleep, or eat first when they got home.

“Heeyyy, M-C!”

Looking up from where she’d been zoning out staring at her D.D.D, she glanced around. Had somebody called her name?

“Mary-Catheriiiine!!” A girl was jogging towards her, waving a hand to get her attention. It took her a moment, since it wasn’t someone she was very familiar with, but she connected the face to a name before the girl reached her.

“Yes? - Um, Hoya, right?”

“Yeah.” The girl said, smiling with a - ah. Shark demon blood. - large set of teeth. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course! What is it?”

“I lost my ring up on the rocks.” Hoya said, pointing to the climbing wall. “I can see where it is but I can’t reach it myself. Can you get it for me?”

“Sure!” May-Catherine chirped, but then bit her lip. “Uh, did you tell Lucifer? It’s time to go and I’ll be fast but we’re going to make them wait…”

“Don’t worry, I told him. He said it’s fine as long as I hurry.”

“Oh. Okay!” M-C said, but couldn’t help squinting a little skeptically.

“...He said they’re leaving in ten minutes with or without us.” Hoya admitted. “But it won’t take us that long!”

Mary-Catherine was already moving. “Oh gosh, well I hope you didn’t mention my name…”

Hoya jogged next to her, long smooth grey tail wagging oddly like a dog. “Uh, I did. Sorry!"

Mary-Catherine groaned and high-tailed it to the rock.

#obey me!#shall we date? obey me!#asmodeus #asmodeus x mc

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pandawritespoorly · 4 years

Text

With Time: Chapter 21 - A Cat and A Bug

Author’s Note: Sorry the update is a little late today! I had plans I'd forgotten about in the morning and didn't have the chance to post the chapter beforehand. Without further ado, chapter 21: (Heh. I'm posting chapter 21 on the 21st).

Chapter Summary: Adrien and Marinette continue to hang out at her house, dealing with the aftermath of a reveal.

First | Previous | Next

“Plagg, Claws In.”

Adrien sits in Chat’s place, watching Marinette vigilantly, as though he can stop what has already happened.

“How are you doin’ kid?” Plagg sits next to Tikki on the cat pillow.

“I don’t know Plagg… she’s been right here this whole time. Shouldn’t I have realized? I was - am - so worried and I wanted to be there, and I didn’t even realize I already was there,” he looks to the Kwami, “Shouldn’t I have recognized her?”

“Adrien, the miraculous keeps you from recognizing each other. You still saw that they were similar people. Heck, you called her an ‘everyday Ladybug’. You recognized her as best you could without knowing they were one and the same.”

“Do you think she’ll be okay?”

“I think she’s getting better, and it will help now that you know and are in her everyday life. She’s not entirely better, I mean, sheesh, that paper she wrote…”

“Ladybug wrote that paper. About herself,” he covers his mouth at the realization, glancing down at the sleeping girl, “Oh, Mari…”

He notices the fallen notebook, picking it up. He’s about to put it back, but, well, curiosity killed the cat. It’s not like it’s her diary.

He opens it up.

Things to Accept:

You messed up.

Everyone Most people at Françoise Dupont hate you

You don’t know how to do friendship properly.

People want to believe you’re a bad person

You’re a terrible hero, and Paris deserves better.

You’re an obsessive stalker-ish creep.

No one actually likes you.

You shouldn’t be trusted with responsibility

It just keeps going. He turns the page, hoping for an end, and instead is met with another list.

Rules To Be Better:

Don’t cry

Smile

Be nice to people

Apologize when you mess up (again)

If someone needs a favor, do it

If asked, you’re doing good

Laugh at jokes, even when tired/sick

When tired/sick, do not show it

Take care of akumas as quickly as possible

Only lie if absolutely necessary - honesty is important

Adrien, Claude, Allegra, Allan, and Felix have been nice enough to put up with you, don’t make them regret it.

Don’t do anything that could attract an akuma to you

He feels the tears prick at his eyes and shuts the book, ignoring the rest of the content. He’s seen enough.

“Kid?” Plagg has noticed his distress, “Adrien, what happened?”

Adrien hands him the book wordlessly. The God flips through it, frowning, “She must have kept this from Tikki too. When did she make this?” “How long has that been there?!”

Marinette shuffles in the bed, but shows no other sign of waking.

He looks to her again, he wants nothing more than to scoop her up and take her somewhere safe where those people can’t get to her.

He puts the notebook on the shelf, but at the front, where he can see it. No way he’s leaving without addressing that.

As if he’d be able to forget it.

“Kitten, you should rest.” Plagg, looks at him sincerely.

“But Mari-” “Pigtails is sleeping. It’s winter, she won’t wake up before you. Take a nap.”

“I don’t want to leave her…”

“So don’t! You’re a cat! Flop on top of her. You’re basically a heated blanket, she won’t mind, you’ve done it during patrol before anyways.”

Plagg has a point. Adrien sighs, falling across his friend and blinking at her slowly before he falls asleep too.

---

As usual, it doesn’t take much for him to wake up. He hears some shuffling, and shoots up, glancing around him to be sure nothing is wrong.

He notices Marinette first - she’ll always be the one he’s drawn to. She’s almost awake. Now that he knows she’s Ladybug, he knows how to read her even easier. Her room is warm enough now, and with him right there, she’s about as awake as she ever is in the winter.

Well, she will be in a moment.

“Kitten, you should transform, you don’t want to stress her out too much.”

“Plagg’s right. It’s been quite the day, let her know if you’re going to detransform.” Tikki is awake too.

Adrien nods, transforming as she comes to. She doesn’t notice him as she props herself up on an elbow, but he sees the moment everything catches up to her and the tears that come to her anguished face break his heart.

“Mari?” He speaks softly, so as to not startle her.

“Chat?”

“How much do you remember of what happened?” If she doesn’t remember much he’ll try and spare her of the worst bits.

She’s silent, and he can see every expression as she relives what happened. It would seem she remembers quite a bit then. She pauses, frowning in confusion.

“I- Did I- Do you… do you know who I am now?” She sounds almost horrified, and he guesses she’s being too harsh on herself. He wants to tell her this isn’t a bad thing - shout it until it gets through, but that would only turn out badly.

He settles for smiling softly, ”I do. You’re amazing, Princess.”

“A-are you sure?”

“I am absolutely certain. You are my fa-fur-ite purr-son.” He sneaks some puns in, hoping to draw her away from what must be a negative train of thought.

She scowls at him half-heartedly. She hesitates, looking uncertain, “So, you’re not...you’re not disappointed?” she gets quieter as she speaks, looking away and unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, Bug. Never.”

She smiles, but she doesn’t seem entirely convinced.

“Do you want to detransform?” “Do you want me to? It’s alright if you don’t want to know.”

She shakes her head, ”No, it’s only fair.”

He nods, willing the transformation away silently.

Adrien sits in front of her, and Plagg flies off to be near Tikki, who has been watching silently. This isn’t for them, it’s between their chosens.

Marinette sees him, and sits shocked for a moment as she processes this.

Something seems to occur to her, and a smile slips onto her face. She covers it with her hand, but the grin only grows, turning into soft giggles, before she’s fully laughing.

It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

“What? Adrien Agreste running around in a cat costume too much for you?”

She shakes her head, still trying to muffle her laughter and hiding her smile behind her hand, “No- no! It’s, it’s- It was a square! The whole time! It was a love square!”

He doesn’t quite get what she’s getting at, cocking his head at her, eyes shining in merriment, “What now?”

“Okay- okay. So-” She’s really trying her best to explain between her fits of laughter, “So. You, liked Ladybug, and Marinette was ‘just a friend’-” she held off the laughter too long and it spills out again.

He waits patiently.

“Ladybug wouldn’t date Chat Noir because she liked Adrien, and we were just-” She speaks through her continued laughter, “Stuck in a love square! We liked the opposite sides of each other- well I liked both -but it’s funny because it’s just so stupid!” she breaks into laughter again.

He takes a moment to process what she said, and he doesn’t ask for confirmation, because it feels right - fitting - that they both liked both sides of each other - and he’d hate to interrupt Marinette’s joyousness. It’s contagious, and soon he’s laughing too.

“I guess the square is a line now.” he says after they’ve begun recovering.

She seems surprised, almost as if she’d assumed he no longer cared for her, “Y-yeah, I guess it is.”

They sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, then her eyes land on the notebook, immediately noting its incorrect position. She turns to him - panicked.

“D-did you s-see that?”

“I did. It fell when I came in.”

“I-I-I’m sorry. I-” Her hands are shaking with her voice, he can see the horror on her face.

He cups her hands carefully.

“Marinette. You shouldn’t be apologizing. Not everything is your fault.”

“B-but-”

“Marinette. Trust me. You’re trying to take all this blame and it’s not for you. You haven’t been able to move forward because you’re still dwelling on it - you’re trying to figure out ‘where you went wrong’ but you haven’t been able to figure it out because you didn’t.”

She shakes her head.

He grabs the notebook, opening it up. He points at the first point.

You messed up.

“We’re going to go through each of them okay? You’ll explain why it’s there, and I’ll correct it. Can you do that?”

She nods hesitantly, “That one’s obvious. They all turned on me because- because I did something wrong, They’re good people, so I must have done something bad to earn it.”

Oh, he hopes his heart will make it through this.

“Or. They messed up. Good people can make mistakes too.” Not that some of them deserve that title anymore, but if he’s trying to correct her, he can’t shove a bunch of opposites at her, “They made the mistake of believing Lila, because they got so hooked on her stories that they forgot that you matter just as much.”

She looks doubtful, but nods, pointing to the next one.

Everyone Most people at Françoise Dupont hate you

“Lila turned everyone there against me. They hate me now.” She says it like it’s just as obvious as the last one.

“Not ‘everyone’. You crossed that out.”

“Well, except for you.”

“Okay, but not even most people there like Lila. It’s only Bustier’s class. The rest of the school is completely indifferent to her. Even most of the class doesn’t hate you.”

“Alya hates me. So does Lila.”

“So that’s, what? Two out of 15?”

“14.”

“15. Markov counts. As for the rest of the school, most people like you! I’ve heard several people still talking about you, they miss you. Everyone thinks my class is completely insane.”

She smiles a little at that, moving to the next one.

You don’t know how to do friendship properly.

“I messed up the only close friendship I had. In a single day.”

“It wasn’t in a single day. It was months of Lila weaseling her way in between you and Alya so that your friendship was weak. She knew she had to separate you two so that she could get to you more easily. If you need more proof that you are capable of being a good friend, I can always text the group chat. Claude would probably find a way to teleport here.”

She smiles, “They probably would. Allegra would start a mob.”

People want to believe you’re a bad person

“Lila said she only tells people what they want to hear, and when she told them I bullied her, they believed it.” “That’s how she starts. Frog-in-a-pot style. She says little things that’ll get her attention and sympathy. Once she’s in people’s good graces, she begins dropping small things that are harder to believe. By that point she’s trusted, and she starts small enough that she can build up to bigger things. She had months, Marinette. Months to do all that.”

You’re a terrible hero, and Paris deserves better.

“I messed up a bunch. I’ve gotten hit by a bunch of akumas, and I fell off the Eiffel Tower. I keep attracting akumas - that’s the opposite of what I’m supposed to do.”

“I’ve gotten hit even more than you. Does that make me a bad hero?”

“No! Never!” She sounds both horrified and furious, but he continues.

“Exactly. As for the akumas, you’ve fought off every single one. That’s heroic, and as sad as I am that you had to do those things, I’m so proud and impressed. I knew you were amazing.”

She blushes, moving hurriedly to the next one.

You’re an obsessive stalker-ish creep.

“I had gifts for you for years. Like, for years into the future. I had your schedule memorized and on a chart, and I had all those pictures…”

“Marinette. You made gifts, and I’m certain they were based around things I liked, not what you wanted me to like. You got rid of them though, so it doesn’t matter right now. You had my schedule memorized, I don’t even have it memorized. You weren’t using it to stalk me, to my knowledge-”

“No! I only used it to figure out when we could hang out! All of us! Since you were always so busy! I only used it to steal your phone once-”

“You what?”

“Moving on-” “That was you?!”

“Moving on!”

No one actually likes you.

“People wouldn’t actually want to hang out with-” She cuts herself off.

“What?”

“I think that one is phrased wrong?”

“I think that one is wrong. I told you, people at school miss you. You made an impact - a positive one. Claude, Allegra, Allan, and Felix love you. I love you! All of Paris loves you!”

She blushes.

You shouldn’t be trusted with responsibility

“I’m a bad hero, and I was a bad class president.”

“We’ve already been over the fact that you’re a fantastic hero, and you were a great class president. You listened to what people wanted and tried to fulfill requests. You planned events well.” She nods. Then nods again, slower. He takes in the way she’s slumping slightly, and smiles at her, “Do you want to leave your bed? You can be closer to the heaters if you’re on the floor.

They climb down, and lean against her chaise lounge, he grabs a blanket and their phones, settling it over them. Tikki and Plagg stay on the bed, catching up.

Once he sits again, Marinette leans into him, cuddling as close as she can to his warmth and holding the blanket tightly.

He could look at his phone, but for now, he just wants to sit with her and appreciate the fact that he finally knows who she is.

He loves her so much.

The snow is really coming down now, fully blizzarding. Marinette’s breathing has evened out and her grip on the blanket has loosened.

Their phones ding.

Checking his, he sees an ongoing conversation in the group chat.

The Mom Friend: is evryone safe inside? theres gunna be a blizzard

The Mom Friend: how r u holding up mari

Kid Mime: i’m at home!!! im watching a bunch of disney and i have hot chocolate and popcorn!!!!

Kid Mime: ariel could have tried miming

Kid Mime: it realy could hav helpd her

Melodie: I’m home. Just made hot chocolate for my brothers. I’ve got some too.

Felix: I am also at home.

The Mom Friend: same here

The Mom Friend: mari? u sleeping?

The Mom Friend: adrien u still at her place?

A is for Awesome: Yep!

A is for Awesome: She fell asleep on me while we were doing homework.

The Mom Friend: ok im glad shes not outside

Melodie: How long did she last once the snow started?

A is for Awesome: She fell asleep immediately, then she woke up and we talked for a while, and she fell asleep again.

Kid Mime: when she wakes up tell her i said hi

Kid Mime: and i love her

Kid Mime: and that shes gud desiner

A is for Awesome: I will!

The Mom Friend: remind her 2 eat

The Mom Friend: an everythin claude said

A is for Awesome: So, um. It may or may not be the case that neither of us have eaten at all today? We may or may not have both completely forgotten.

The Mom Friend: …

The Mom Friend: wat wud u guys do without me?

Felix: Die. You and I are the only reasonable ones in this group, but while you intervene, I am content to simply watch them make poor choices.

Melodie: HEY! I’m reasonable!

The Mom Friend: u 2 need to eat. same goes to any1 else in this chat that need a reminder

Kid Mime: wat about /u/ allan????

Kid Mime: have /u/ eatn recntly?????

The Mom Friend: i am eating a sandwich rite now

A is for Awesome: I’ll have Mari and I eat something.

Before he does so, there’s something else he has to do. He separates himself from Marinette carefully. It’s difficult because being a superhero has made her strong and she doesn't want to give up her heat source, but he manages to escape.

She lies on the floor, frowning. He’ll make this quick. He climbs up to her bed, grabbing the notebook, and rips out the pages she’s written on. He carefully writes his own version of the things she’s put in, before putting it back where it belongs.

“Plagg, I’m gonna’ transform quick.” He warns the Kwami, who nods in understanding.

“Claws out!” Chat Noir grips the torn pages and moves to the balcony. The air whips around him violently, his black suit a stark contrast to the white flakes all around him. The city is coated in snow, and he can see his breath when he exhales heavily.

He looks at the revolting papers in his ringed hand.

“Cataclysm.”

He watches the dust blow away with the wind, then turns back to the trapdoor, letting himself inside.

He releases the transformation before his ring even beeps, and hands Plagg some cheese as he returns to his Lady. She’s still on the floor, laying on her side, seemingly working on waking up, but only squinting and frowning at the ground.

He lays down on his stomach, looking at her.

“Hi Princess.”

She looks up to see he’s returned and her face lights up, though the exhaustion is still clear, “Kitty!”

“Are you hungry? Neither of us have eaten.”

“Don’ need t’ eat.” Maybe the blizzard has gotten to her. She’s on the edge of her ladybug-mindset, thinking she doesn’t need to eat if she’s in hibernation.

“I doubt that. Would you like to get something to eat with me?”

She shakes her head, “‘ugs?” She reaches one hand toward him weakly.

He holds her offered hand in his own, “What if I give you a hug, and then you eat. You can sit next to me.”

She finds this to be an acceptable compromise and nods.

He scoops her up and carries her down the stairs. On the way he comments, “Claude wanted me to say hi to you for him, and that he loves you, and that you’re a good designer Allan agreed, though he also wanted me to remind you to eat.”

“‘re nice.”

He sets her down gently at the table extracting himself from her arms. He sets water in front of her while he makes a sandwich for himself. There’s a variety of fruit in the fridge.

Ha! Winter brings out the ladybug in Marinette, and now that he knows she’s a ladybug, he can play into that. The superhero duo know each other’s tendencies well, and he spent a lot of last year bringing fruit to patrol in case she’d forgotten to eat. It was one of the few foods that the ladybug in her would accept without much fuss.

He gets a small bowl and mixes a variety of fruit together for her, being sure to give her lots of grapes. He gives her the bowl and grabs his sandwich and water to sit next to her.

She’s resting her head against the table, already asleep again. The kitchen isn’t as warm as her room.

“Hey, it’s time to eat.” He nudges her carefully, and she glances over to him drowsily. He points out the bowl to her and when she registers its contents she flashes him a stunning smile, eating slowly.

He eats too, finishing well before her. She’s eaten maybe a quarter of the small bowl before she slows more, tipping towards the table. He moves the dishes out of the way to avoid her face-planting onto them.

He grabs her hand, leading her up to her room again so that the heat can wake her up. For now, he settles for wrapping her up in the blanket again. The Marinette-burrito flops onto his lap.

A is for Awesome: We ate.

The Mom Friend: good

He finishes the rest of his math homework. That’s all he’s got. It’s winter break now (thank goodness, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to keep from doing something to Alya) so he’s free. At least for the next few hours that is, then he’s back to his jam-packed schedule. He should give himself another assignment…

Adrien thinks for a moment, trying to think of something for him to do while he’s stuck at Marinette’s.

He thinks back to her laughter following his reveal. That’ll be his goal.

Maybe he can record her this time. He loves her laugh.

She’s laughed at puns before, it just takes a lot. He’ll start there.

Poking her a few times until she blinks up at him, he says, “Do you want a brief explanation of what an acorn is? In a nutshell, it’s an oak tree.”

“...okay.”

She’s too serious for this. She missed his pun!

“Mariiiiii!”

She blinks more, “...hi?”

“Here. Sit up.” He gets her to lean against his shoulder. Close enough.

“Why?” She sounds confused, probably because he just woke her up. She’d have woken up soon anyways. Otherwise it wouldn’t have been so easy to get her to look at and talk to him.

“You’ve been sleeping for a while. I want to talk to you.” She moves to sit across from him, squinting at him suspiciously.

“You were bored, weren’t you?”

“Purr-haps.”

She groans, “You woke me up for puns.”

“Actually, I wanted to tell you that I just got over my addiction to marshmallows, chocolate, and peanuts. I’m not gonna lie, it was a rocky road.” She looks out at the blizzard desperately, “Winter take me.”

“I’m a big fan of whiteboards. I find them quite re-markable.

“I asked my friend if she likes to play video games. She said, ‘Wii.’”

“Oh dear Kwami.”

“The machine at the coin factory just suddenly stopped working, with no explanation. It doesn’t make any cents!”

She shakes her head, but she’s too tired to keep the facade up for long. He knows she likes his puns.

He leans forward, grinning, “I’m only friends with 25 letters of the alphabet. I don’t know Y.”

“Neither do I. Why are you like this?”

She’d added on, he’s certain he’ll catch her soon. He readies his phone out of sight.

“Why can’t you run through a campground?”

She only raises an eyebrow.

“You can only ran, because it’s past tents!” He beams at her innocently, “A man sued an airline company after it lost his luggage. Sadly, he lost his case.”

“Poor guy.” She’s looking away, focusing elsewhere.

“So what if I can’t spell Armageddon? It’s not the end of the world.”

She can’t hold out forever.

“How about bird puns, they’re very egg-citing.”

He’s got plenty of material.

“You don’t seem very emused.”

“Trying to annoy me with bird puns? Well, toucan play at that game!” She retorts.

He gasps delightedly, “You punned at me!”

As expected, the dam soon breaks and she starts snickering, covering her mouth. It evolves further until she’s fully laughing again. He’s been recording her, and encouraging her with dumb faces and jokes too quiet for the camera.

He wants to tell her to stop covering her face, but pointing out the habit will only embarrass her, and then she’d stop laughing. She drops it as the laughs die down, smiling at him.

Noticing his smug face, she shakes her head,“Was that your goal? Really?”

He holds up his phone, “I wanted to be able to hear your laugh whenever. It’s been saved.”

“Oh you did not.”

“I did. And now… it’s been sent to the group chat!”

“We will get no peace.”

As soon as she says it, their phones go off. Checking it, they see Claude has been the first to view the video.

Kid Mime: MARINETTE U SOUND ADORABLE Kid Mime: DID ADRIEN ALREADY TELL U THAT I LOVE U Kid Mime: I LOVE UR LAUGH Kid Mime: ADRIEN TEACH ME UR WAYS

A is for Awesome: Puns.

Kid Mime: IM ALREADY ON GOOGLE Kid Mime: I NEED EVERY PUN

Kid Mime: E V E R Y P U N

Melodie: We’ll never get a break now.

Melodie: It’s nice to see you laugh, Marinette.

Patisserie Princess: im never leaving the house

Patisserie Princess: i laughed at a pun

Patisserie Princess: i /made/ a pun

Felix: Understandable. I will try to visit often.

Felix: I suspect you have been spending too much time with Claude and Adrien.

The Mom Friend: aw mari

The Mom Friend: u gotta leave the house eventually

Patisserie Princess: do I?

Kid Mime: I WILL COME TO U Kid Mime: ADRIEN HOW MANY PUNS DOES IT TAKE TO MAKE HER LAUGH

A is for Awesome: Depends on how tired she is.

A is for Awesome: Just don’t stop. Don’t give her a chance to recover.

Kid Mime: ALRIGHT I WILL KEEP THAT IN MIND

Melodie: The floodgates have been opened.

Felix: Indeed.

Kid Mime: IM GONNA RESEARCH PUNS Kid Mime: BYE

Kid Mime: LUV U GUYS

The Mom Friend: bye

Melodie: Bye.

Patisserie Princess: bye!

Felix: Goodbye.

A is for Awesome: Bye!

---

Author’s Note: These babies are cute. I love them so much.

The next chapter will be Wednesday, for Christmas. Just fluff, the purpose of the chapter is really just for the sake of all of them interacting in an angst-free way. So you get a bonus chapter. That's not all though! I really want to write a interlude of Tikki and Plagg's conversation in this chapter. It wouldn't really fit in here, and adding it as a chapter feels weird seeing as it would be sort of out-of-order. I'll post it as a separate one-shot, and leave a link here when it's up.

Hey! You all remember Honey Bee? Well a lovely little angel drew her! She looks so great, and I love it so much, link is here!

I haven't been writing much this month (apologies to those wanting chapter 2 of A Shy 'Sparrow'), this week in particular has been stressful. With my being on break now, I think I'll be able to write more. I had a few things that really struck me and I wanted to write them so we'll see how things go!

I feel like I'm forgetting something. If I remember it I'll edit this note.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any thoughts, theories, constructive criticism, or anything really in my ask box, in replies or through reblogs. I love seeing what you think!

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#miraculous ladybug #transfer #with time #fanfic #chameleon salt #miraculous tendencies #miraculous side effects #winter #reveal #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #plagg #quantic kids #ml Felix #text interactions #low self esteem

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ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

DARING DO and THE GRYPHON’S QUEST! : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 17 of 19

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

DARING DO

and

THE GRYPHON’S QUEST!

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

and

Carmen Pondiego

Cover art by Aranel the Cyborg, now Wind the Mama Cat

29584 words

Writing begun 03/29/16

This is a Fan Fiction based on My Little Pony. Canterlot, Princess Luna and the name Daring Do are owned by Hasboro Inc.

//////////////

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

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

///////////////////////

Chapter 17. The Coward’s Weapon!

Daring Do was pleasantly surprised at just how good her half brother Blendin was at specimen preparation. There was another surprise for her too.

Friend spent much of her time crooning to her Eagle eggs. She did frequently leave her nest and lend her green magic to the task, usually greatly simplifying the work. It was the greatest assistance at particularly difficult or delicate times in the preparation of the failed nymphs that she had loved so dearly and watched over for so many centuries.

Almost any time that they took a break from the arduous task before them, Friend would leave the eggs and nest protected by a nearly invisible glow of green magic. She would take a place beside Daring Do and purr/croon softly. Daring Do found real rest and comfort in the love that Friend shared with her. She often rested her head against the changeling’s horn and shared thought and memory.

It was from that sharing that she learned something surprising about Friend. When her hive was attacked by war equipped and battle ready unicorns, Friend defended the hive’s precious eggs.

She slaughtered ten of the enemy, literally tearing them to pieces in the defense of those eggs. When her shared hive mind felt the Queen die, she went briefly berserk. Four of the ten attacking unicorns that she killed fell in those few moments.

It was duty and love for the eggs that she tended that brought her back to something resembling sanity. Taking all of the eggs that she could carry, she fled into the night.

The world outside of the hive was a strange and confusing place at first. By luck alone, she found a long disused road that led to the mountains. She did the best that she could but it was not enough. One by one, she felt the spark of returned love die out of each of the eggs. Her heart was torn asunder by the loss.

Daring Do knew the rest of the story. What she did not know was the sheer depth of feeling that Friend had developed for her. She meant it when she said that Daring Do was Matunen, Hive Queen, in the ancient tongue of Early Middle Equestrian.

Friend was totally contented for the first time in ages. That in no way interfered with any whit of her egg tending.

Blendin saw his half sister’s serene relaxation around Friend and was glad. The Apprentice Librarian of the Great Library in him was glad too. He was learning things about conservation of irreplaceable delicate artifacts and relics that would apply to his work in the Great Library.

Once everything was ready, he stared at the results of their work in wonder. He had not only helped to prepare the whole foundation for the creation of an entire intelligent species, he had it and all of his half sister’s notes cataloged for the Great Library!

Together, they sent a note of their progress to the Empress.

The door, upon opening, showed the Empress, Grata, and Hisst, the Right Wing of the Imperial Throne. The hallway was blocked by heavily armed Imperial Guards in full battle armor.

Daring Do was about to ask if such precautions were necessary when a loud, harsh voice from up the hallway demanded, “This is all Blasphemous! Even if it were the truth and showed our ancient roots, it would still be blasphemy! The Holy Legends declare that Faith alone is sufficient and seeking truth beyond its holy pages undermines Faith!

“Whatever is here must be destroyed!”

The Empress responded, “What is about to be destroyed is YOU, Krapper! You have fifteen seconds to be around the curve and out of OUR sight before I order my troops to open fire!”

“You would not dare!”

“Nine seconds left, Krapper.”

There was a clatter of claws on stone as the speaker retreated!

The Empress drew a deep breath, her crest showing disgust. “The entire lot of First Creation Idiots want to destroy the only real history that our kind has.��

Friend spoke up, “Your Majesty, they are wrong. This I/we know. Before I/we loved the eggs that became the nymphs of your kind, I/we saw changelings. I/we saw unicorns. I/we saw Eagles. I/we saw pegassi.

“I/we helped matunen Daring Do and brother Blendin to be sure that these failed nymphs truly show how I/we loved the eggs that became the nymphs that are your kind.”

The Empress, crest showing deep thought, began tracing the development of her kind. She was reading the placards set by each step of the way. Looking over to the true mother of her whole species, she asked, “Why did you go from pony to big cat for our hindquarters?”

Friend crowded over to point as she spoke. “Not all big cat. See how these bones go? That is from the pegassus. The head was carnivore, Eagle. The hindquarters had to eat meat too or fail. I/we did see a lion in mountains once, close enough to feel its insides by loving it. I/we used what I/we knew.”

Grata, crest rippling in laughter, exclaimed, “We are so lucky that she didn’t see a bear!”

After the fit of laughter passed around the room, the Empress asked, “How will this all be presented, Doctor Do?”

Daring Do sketched rapidly. “The case, to be portable must be of stout woodwork. The front viewing window should be made of glass that has been spell strengthened like a Magic Net mirror.”

The Empress nodded, crest showing some concern. “You mentioned not risking the real relics and that is a good idea.

“We have General Iron Hooves here with some of his munitions experts. The team that they are consulting with is known to you, though we know that you do not like them much.

“V.I.L.E. Is here. They have sent Carmen Pondiego, Baron Von Nighthoof, Marehem Skadefryd, and Kiros Asbhy. I understand that they have also got a number of Agents here too.”

Crest smiling, the Empress went on, “I was warned to be sure that I still have both mandibles of my beak after dealing with them. However, they will be absolutely honest with family.

“They have several missions. One is being worked on now with General Ironhooves and his aides. Another is to be the agency for creating your cases and making the copies for display. I will be ordering twenty sets.”

Daring Do, looking doubtful, did agree, “I have to admit that when it comes to museum quality duplication, Mom’s company is unexcelled.”

An all too familiar voice caroled from the doorway, “So sweet to hear you actually say something nice about my company! Of course we are honest! V.I.L.E. has never been caught or proved to be guilty of ANY crime at all!

“Suspicions? Poof! Suspicion and a cup of tea will get you anything from a nice Bergamont to bag of Lupton’s Worst!

Carmen Pondiego strutted into the room in her trademark porkpie hat and fire engine red dress. She called over her shoulder, “General, Dear, would you please come in and see for yourself what my daughter found that is causing all this mess?”

General Ironhooves entered the door. He was in his simple field uniform.

He tipped his Campaign Hat to the Empress and her Wings. He approached the study tables, examining the relics with care. He picked up Daring Do’s voluminous field notes and sketches, seeming to leaf through them, except that once in a while he stopped long enough to separate pages that stuck together.

He put down the books and turned to the Empress. “Ma'am, you have chosen your battlefield perfectly. Better, you have the enemy in the sights of your artillery.

“I hope that it does not come to armed conflict, but if it does, after consulting with Carmen here, I think that you will have a LOT of surprises for them!”

Daring Do managed to look skeptical. “Only them?”

Before Carmen could snark back, Marehem wandered in, right past the security detail. He grinned. “Helps to be a misfortune changel …”

His eyes bugged out. It was the first time that Daring Do could remember that her uncle Marehem was caught totally off guard!

“An Egg-tender, HERE? How did that happen? How can she live without a hive?”

Friend looked up from serenely turning the eggs in the nest. She smiled as she said, “Matunen Daring Do.”

Uncle M stopped like he’d hit a brick wall headfirst. “Adora, Matunen? A queen?”

The Empress nodded, crest rippling amusement. “It hit us like that too, when we realized that Friend is OVER two thousand years old. She was the sole survivor of a destroyed hive.

“Tending eggs kept her sane. She is the Mother who loved an unstable and fatal hybridization into becoming our strong race. I gather that for her, loving means something other than a simple feeling.”

Marehem got it together to say, “It sure does. The eggs a queen lays are sort of neutral. They will develop as random kinds of changelings. Give them to an Egg-tender and tell her how many of which sort, worker, other egg-tenders, drones, even a queen, and that is what you will get. Their love is a very complex magic that no other kind can do.”

Daring Do, eyes twinkling, suggested, “Make the order for V.I.L.E. twenty one copies. We will donate one to the Nightmare Wars Collection of the Royal Museum!”

General Ironhooves grinned hugely. “You really want to shaft those First Creationists, don’t you?”

Daring Do simply said, “Yes. They defile and deny the history that I have devoted my life to.”

Carmen pointed to the work tables and said, “Will you take a real compliment from your mother, Adora? This, notes, restorations, preparation and all is a fantastic piece of work.

V.I.L.E. will duplicate it with the greatest of care. With your permission, we will keep a copy for our own private museum.”

Mutely, Daring Do nodded.

She saw Uncle M talking to a Magic Net mirror and turning it to show everything.

Carmen pointed to an especially fragile relic and said, “Be especially careful of this one, Baron.”

One by one, the laboriously prepared relics, notes and all quietly vanished. General Ironhooves simply noted, “Handy trick, that!”

Daring Do, Friend, with her nest, and Blendin were brought to a large suite with an open airy feeling. One Gryphon port was open enough for the Eagles to get in and out but not Gryphons. The rooms were swarmed with Eagles.

Friend immediately shared that soft green magic of hers to include all of the waiting Eagles. The way that they crowded close about the nest, it was clear that they had been waiting for Friend’s loving magic. Several shuffled aside and one reached out a beak and snagged Daring Do’s tunic, making her join or get a torn tunic. She joined the Eagles in luxuriating in the literal glow of Friend’s shared love.

After a few days of resting up, Rahak came by. Crest at attention, he requested, “Doctor Do, master Blendin, would you come please? The display copies are ready for examination.”

They followed the Wing Commander back down to the workroom. There were twenty one large cases of fine solid woodwork, each faced by stout glass armored by a spell to the toughness of steel. The contents were beautifully displayed to make the whole progression from hippogriff to Gryphon utterly clear. Each item of the display had its explanatory placard.

Neatly done on each placard was an exact copy of a reference to the actual original Legend Document, with translation. After that part was a clear, simple note explaining the item.

Central to the whole display was Daring Do’s detailed sketch of the remains of the failed nymphs in place, as they were found.

The whole thing had such an impact that Daring Do’s breath drew in, in a way that she had heard so many times as a child riding her mother’s back in a knapsack, when her mother saw some beautiful thing that she was about to steal.

Turning to an equally awestruck Blendin, Daring Do said, “Tell Carmen that this is the best display preparation that I have ever seen.”

“Thank you, dear,” said a familiar voice. A khaki colored unicorn mare in a form fitting fire engine red dress stepped out of the shadows. Daring Do was shocked to see bags under her eyes.

Carmen Pondiego told her, “The General is sleeping now. I have been working along with every agent that I have available. I cannot tell you what we have been doing. Imperial Security is involved. I only hope that it has been enough to prevent the war.”

Rahak suggested, “Let us all prepare for this evening’s banquet. That is when you will make your presentation, Doctor Do.”

Daring Do was looking around the Imperial Banquet Hall, at the many war banners that fluttered in the light breeze. There were also the banners of the provinces of the Empire. The wood and stonework was outstanding for its solidity and rich carving.

Perched on every place that they could find claw room were hundreds of Eagles, looking expectantly at Friend. Her nest had been placed conveniently close to Daring Do’s place.

The dining tables were all set so that every diner could see the big glass fronted case with its display. There were two small books by each place.

One was a copy of the original document of the Legends, written some time shortly before 54 Post Nightmare Wars. It had an exact copy of the document itself, a line by line literal translation and a third line in modern Gryphon with notes to explain the meaning of idioms used when the original was written. No commentaries. No editing. Only a foreword explaining that this was a true copy of the Legends that they all revered and tried to follow. Commentaries were dispensed with in the hope that the reader could understand what the words said and form their own opinions based on solid fact.

It was signed and sealed by the Empress herself.

The other small book contained copies of Daring Do’s expedition notes and sketches that were relevant to the display showing the origin of their species.

The First Created believers started to scream, “Blasphemy!”

The Empress herself cut them off. “Silence, Krapper! These are the Legends that you CLAIM to revere!”

“You have left out the rich and ancient commentaries!”

Her crest rippling with laughter, the Empress exclaimed, “Ancient? Krapper, the FIRST commentary was inserted into a small book like this only thirty five years ago! It had a note that it WAS NOT HOLY WRIT, only opinion. That note was removed and further commentaries added. More than half of the mass of your book has been added in just the last five years!

“It must be wonderful to be able to write up whatever you please, insert it into the next edition of your book and have it called HOLY WRIT!”

“Our Book is the true Law! Holy Word is higher than mere secular law!”

“NO, Krapper! That is direct sedition! Guards! Stand behind Krapper! If he utters one more word of sedition, cut his wing tendons at once. He will be given the LONG DROP at sunrise for the crime.”

The Empress paused for effect and added, “Now, we have a banquet laid before us. Let not Krapper’s ill manners spoil your appetite. After we have eaten, we will hear from Doctor Daring Do, whose actual facts, well documented and proven may provide you with much food for thought.”

The server placed a plate in front of Daring Do, commenting, “I hope that we got it to your taste. It is a sauced alfalfa steak. We don’t eat such fare, so we are not much used to cooking it.”

Daring Do replied with a smile, “I am sure that it will be fine. You have been doing well the last few days.”

She cut a bite and began to chew. Numbness spread from her mouth. She gasped and could draw no air. Her vision was fading slowly.

She heard, “The Blasphemer has been struck down! Any means to strike at blasphemy is honorable, the Holy Writ is clear!”

The voice of the Empress cried, “Poison is the Coward’s Weapon! Seize them! Do not wait for the Long Drop! Kill them now!”

The voice of Friend cut across the fading din, “No! Matunen still has love. I/we need them! They will wish for your long drop! I/we promise …”

Then no sight. No sound. No touch. No taste. Nothing …

<==PREVIOUS NEXT==>

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#DARING DO AND THE GRYPHON'S QUEST!#Part 17 of 19 #MLP Fan Fiction #Written by De Writer and Carmen Pondiego

7 notes · View notes

angelofthequeers · 5 years

Text

Ladybug and Reine Nuit: Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

THERE IS FAN ART. @vitaliciouscreations drew Reine Nuit's head and I LOVE how it's just how I imagined her looking! Go and check it out and support this awesome artist!

Part 3 | Part 5

“So, wait, why exactly is her Lucky Charm so…weird?” Alya says from where she’s sitting cross-legged on her bed and finishing off the last of her homework, while Plagg stuffs himself with Camembert cheese nearby.

“Tikki’s the kwami of creation,” Plagg says. “Creation does weird shit. At least we’re pretty straightforward – wham, bam, take it down.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

“And that’s why you weren’t picked to be Ladybug.” Plagg’s shit-eating grin makes Alya’s eye twitch, but she chooses to ignore it for the sake of her newfound superhero status. Who knows if annoying the tiny god creature will screw with her powers? “Ladybugs have to be quick on their feet and be able to make plans out of the weirdest circumstances. Adapt to the situation.”

“I’m quick on my feet!” Alya protests.

“They also have to be imaginative and creative,” Plagg says loudly. Alya rolls her eyes at him. “You’re impulsive and charge without thinking, even if you’ll get flattened for it. That’s why you got me. We protect the Ladybugs, so they can fix the crap that the akumas cause.”

“So, what, like brains and brawn?” Alya says. “Both equally as important for different reasons?”

“Exactly!” Plagg gulps down more cheese. “And we both know which one you are.”

“Alya?” There’s a knock on Alya’s door before she can strangle Plagg, powers be damned. Plagg dives out of sight just in time; Otis opens the door, then wrinkles his nose. “Phew! Since when d’you like that stuff?”

“…Acquired taste?” Alya says. She picks up a crumb of Camembert and pops it into her mouth, struggling not to gag and grimace at the disgusting taste that explodes across her tongue. “Mmm!”

Otis just blinks. “…Okay. Well, Nora’s plans got cancelled, so she’s staying home with you and the twins. Just thought I’d let you know. Your mother and I will be back later tonight.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Alya says. Otis shoots her one more suspicious look before retreating from her room, and Plagg emerges as soon as it’s safe.

“I expect compensation for that cheese,” he says, diving back into his stink nest as Alya coughs and spits out the gooey bit of cheese in her mouth.

“It was one crumb to cover for you in the future!” Alya says, downing half her water bottle in one go.

“Doesn’t matter. Camembert is sacred.”

Alya rolls her eyes. Then she grabs Plagg, ignoring his squawked protests, and stuffs him in her shirt pocket before scooping up her phone and heading out into the living room.

“I’m going for a walk,” she says. Nora, who’s stretching while Ella and Etta watch TV, just grunts, so Alya makes her escape before she’s roped into doing chores or helping Nora “practice” for her next match, aka fulfil her sisterly duties of being a punching bag. Once outside, she walks around to the next block over and then ducks into the first alley she finds.

“Why would you separate me and my beautiful cheese?” Plagg moans.

“Because I’m gonna take a bit of time to practice without having to fight for my life,” Alya says. “Plus, I don’t have to listen to you if you’re stuck in the ring. Plagg, claws out!”

The transformation once again washes over her with its cold green power. It’s just as thrilling as the first time turning into Reine Nuit, and she can’t help her giggle when she looks down at her black leather suit, the green bits almost glowing in the evening dimness. She spots a nearby building, takes a deep breath to psyche herself up, then takes a running start and tries to leap to the roof without the aid of her baton. No knowing when she’ll be left weaponless, right?

As it turns out, her super abilities also extend to strengthening her leg muscles, because she’s easily able to make half the jump, then bound off the brick to reach the top. She whoops and punches the air and spins on the spot giddily, shrieking, “I’m a superhero!”

A ringing sound suddenly emanates from her baton, and she looks down to see the green cat’s paw on the end of it flashing. With a frown, she presses the paw with her thumb, and she gasps when a small rectangular screen pops out, then flickers to life to reveal Ladybug’s face.

“Ladybug?” she exclaims. Ladybug waves.

“Hi! Uh…I was just testing out my yo-yo. I take it you’re out practicing with your powers as well?”

“You know it!” Reine Nuit says. “Wait, so our weapons are also phones? How cool is this?”

Ladybug grins. “Since we’re both out, maybe we should meet up and talk in person? How about the Eiffel Tower?”

“Sure thing! See you there!” Reine Nuit presses the cat paw to hang up, causing the screen to retract back into her baton, and then she starts to leap and vault her way in the direction of the Eiffel Tower. Just like last time, the wind whistles through her hair, making her ponytail stream out behind her in a brown bush, and she can’t help the laughter that escapes her as she flips off a building, extends her staff as far as it’ll go, then vaults herself through the air and uses her staff to catch in one of the gaps in the Tower’s interlacing metal structure.

“This is like a dream come true!” she whoops, bounding up the Tower with a combination of her enhanced abilities and her staff. When she finally flips herself onto the same platform at the top where she and her partner had fought Stoneheart, she realises that she’s not alone; Ladybug has gotten here first, watching her with a small grin.

“From the sounds of it, you’re having a lot of fun,” Ladybug comments when Reine Nuit stops next to her, panting.

“Are you kidding?” Reine Nuit says. “This is – like – oh my god, all my life I’ve wanted to be a superhero! And now not only do I learn that this stuff is real, but I actually get to be one!”

Ladybug laughs and sits down, crossing her legs neatly. Reine Nuit follows suit, hugging her knees to her chest.

“I’m sorry I was late to Stoneheart the second time,” Ladybug says. “I…well, I nearly gave up. I didn’t purify the akuma, and everything was worse, and…I was convinced that whoever’s behind these earrings made a horrible mistake. I was going to give them to a friend, until I realised that I had to step up and do the right thing.”

“You nearly –?” Reine Nuit shakes her head. “Are you kidding? I’ve only fought with you twice and I can already tell you that I don’t want anyone else as a partner! The way you told Hawkmoth off like that? And how you talked to Paris? Oh my god, you’re, like, my idol.”

“Stop that!” Ladybug nudges Reine Nuit. “Don’t idolise me. We’re partners – we’re equals. I meant it when I said that we did it.”

“Well, that Lucky Charm just proves that you’re Ladybug,” Reine Nuit says. “I asked my kwami why you get weird stuff and he said that part of being Ladybug is being creative and imaginative and adaptable. If you weren’t any good as Ladybug, there’s no way you’d have made that whole plan in the stadium out of a wetsuit! Or up here with the parachute!”

“Really?” Ladybug tilts her head. Her blue eyes are dark in the evening light, and Reine Nuit once again finds herself questioning just how straight she really is. Not that she’s thought of herself as straight since she was ten and first heard of Majestia, to be fair. “My kwami never told me that.”

“Oh, mine was super rude about it,” Reine Nuit says. “He’s a bit of a douche. But apparently, I’m the brawn and you’re the brains. My power’s meant to work with yours to make sure that you pull your Lucky Charm off.”

“So, we balance each other out, then,” Ladybug says with a small smile. “That makes sense.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence, gazing out at the sea of lights that is Paris at night. The sight is nearly as mesmerising as her partner’s Miraculous Ladybug, although she’s not sure anything could come close to that beauty.

“I think we should talk about our identities,” Ladybug says. “It’s bound to come up.”

“I know you said that we have to keep them a secret,” Reine Nuit says. “And as much as I’d love to know who my partner is, I agree. The more people know who you are, the more chance there is of villains finding out, so the more danger your friends and family are in.” God, if anything happened to her parents or her sisters – or her new best friend Marinette…

“Not just that,” Ladybug says. “We’re partners. I get the feeling that we’re gonna become pretty close, since we’ll be working together to take down this Hawkmoth. And if I know who you are, it’ll make it harder for me to put my feelings aside and focus on the job when you’re in danger. At least by seeing you like this, it’s easier to tell myself that you can take care of yourself.”

“That’s…actually a good point,” Reine Nuit admits. “I didn’t even think of that, but you’re totally right.”

“Of course I am,” Ladybug says with a mischievous little smile. She sobers and looks back out at Paris. “I still can’t believe someone thinks I’m the best one for this job. It feels like…”

“A dream?” Reine Nuit says.

“Yeah. A dream. I keep expecting to wake up and find that it’s the first day of school and I was just having a really vivid dream.”

“Mood,” Reine Nuit says. She hums when a thought occurs to her. “Should we – I dunno – patrol the city every so often or something?”

“Patrol?” Judging by the way her forehead creases, the thought probably hadn’t even crossed Ladybug’s mind. “What for? We’ll know when an akuma pops up.”

“Who says we have to fight just akumas?” Reine Nuit says. “We’re superheroes. Our job is to fight crime. We can totally practice our skills on normal bad guys.”

“Huh. That’s not a bad idea. We do need to make sure that we can hold our own against akumas. And it would let us develop a working relationship with the public and the police.”

Reine Nuit snorts. “I still say you shoulda let me go that one for what he said to you. Honestly, like he’s never made a mistake before, especially when he was new!”

“He was scared and facing something totally new,” Ladybug says. “Just let it slide, okay?”

“Fine. Only ‘cause it’s you. So…what nights should we patrol? Obviously not every night, since I’ve got schoolwork and all…”

“Same here,” Ladybug says. “Every second or third night?”

“Should we really be that predictable?”

“Only at first. Just until we find our feet. Then we can organise a more random schedule.”

“True.” Reine Nuit sighs and then jumps to her feet. “I should get going. I told my family I was just taking a walk. The last thing I need is for them to think I’ve been kidnapped or something.”

“Yeah, my mum will probably be up to check on me soon,” Ladybug says. She tosses her yo-yo out into the city until it latches onto something that Reine Nuit can’t see, then smiles and waves at Reine Nuit. “See you next time, partner.”

“Later, angel bug,” Reine Nuit blurts out. She can’t help it; against the blanket of Parisian lights, Ladybug really does look like a softly glowing angel. Ladybug blinks. “Uh – sorry, that was probably inappropriate.”

“I don’t mind it,” Ladybug says. The corner of her mouth turns up, and she says, “Bye, pretty kitty,” and swings off. Reine Nuit stares after her, transfixed, until she shakes her head to snap out of it.

“Right. Home.” She starts to leap down the Tower, praying that she can get home before Nora gets too worried and starts asking questions.

#miraculous ladybug #aotq fic #aotq: reine nuit au #chat!alya #alya cesaire #plagg #ladybug #plagg you little shit #alya you need to take a chill pill #also your gay is showing

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ryqoshay · 5 years

Text

Heavenly Life: Cursed Blood

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Words: ~5.8k Rating: T Warning: Fanciful Depictions of Violence Fanfic Fandom: Love Live! Sunshine!! AU: Angelic Time Frame: ??? Story Arc: Stand Alone Event: Fictober19 Prompts: 1, 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 13, 17, 22, 25, 30

Author’s Note: So I guess I’m writing a third fic now...

This chapter serves a dual purpose. First and foremost, it is a proof of concept for an idea that has been brewing in the back of my mind since I first starting writing Happy Life. And second, it is my entry for the Fictober19 event.

Worth mentioning that readers need not have read Happy Life or watched Love Live to understand what is going on in this fic. However, those who have watched or read may find the occasional Easter egg.

Links to Happy Life, the Fictober19 list, and the like will be in the Followup Post.

Edit: It was brought to my attention over on AO3 that I may have been overly cautious with my warnings and rating. Thus, after consulting a few other readers, I decided to downgrade things a bit. I don’t believe the violence depicted in this work will exceed the likes of what was shown in the Harry Potter movies, which retained PG and PG-13 ratings. Also, I do not intend the violence to ever truly be the focus of the story, merely a framing device and a consequence of the setting. The characters and their interactions should always take center stage as far as I’m concerned. As such, I shall try modifying the warning to “Fanciful Depictions of Violence” and the rating to T, and see if that works.

“So, they’ve made it this far…” The blue-haired girl observed from her perch above the chaos.

She hadn’t been summoned to battle, though she hadn’t expected to be, but there had been no ignoring the pillars of smoke rising or the sounds of battle coming from the direction of the gates. Upon arrival to her current position, it was immediately apparent that this was one of the more aggressive invasions in quite a while. Below, countless combatants fought to the death with all manner of sword and sorcery. Blades flashed. Magicks shimmered. Yet another chapter in the story of their eternal war was being written as she watched.

“Are we to join them?” A voice asked.

“Of course.” The girl replied to black kitten that had materialized on her shoulder. “This is our home as well, so I’ll be damned if I don’t help defend it.”

“You will likely be damned anyway.”

“You know what I mean!” She protested before gently swatting her familiar atop his head. “Anyway,” Her hand slid down to scratch under his chin “if nothing else, it will be fun. Trust me.”

“Always. I’m with you, you know that.” He replied before dematerializing. “See you on the battlefield, Master.” His voice emanated from the æther.

With a shrug of her shoulders, wings as dark as the Void sprouted from them and with a single flap, she was borne aloft. Then, with only a thought, her body was rendered invisible to all but all but the most powerful of entities. Finally, she descended into the fray.

Her first target was selected with ease, a single demon that had pushed a bit too far and was now separated from the rest of his line. Despite being alone, he stood pridefully over the broken bodies of several angels she did not readily recognize. Not that she cared much for their identities, and the angles would be reborn soon enough anyway, but the assault still required a response.

“Welcome to Hell Zone!” The blue-haired girl sneered as she became visible to the demon.

“Hell wha?” He baulked in confusion before a black dagger embedded itself in his chest. He grunted and reached to remove it, but before he could touch the hilt, the dagger dissolved, filling the wound with dark energies.

“Here, have another on me.” The girl said as a second dagger appeared near her hand. With a flick of her wrist, she sent it hurling toward her foe.

This time, the demon made no attempt to remove the summoned blade and instead raised one of his own, a giant axe almost as big as the girl herself. With a roar of anger, the demon charged. For her part, the blue-haired girl merely put a finger to her eye, pulled down its lid and stuck out her tongue. A mighty swing cleaved her from shoulder to hip, but her taunting smirk never faltered, even as her body dissolved.

“Wrong one.” The girl cooed into the demon’s ear from behind.

Before he could react, the toe of an ebon scythe protruded from his belly. “H-how…?” was all he managed to get out before the girl heaved upward to repay the favor bestowed on the duplicate she had left when teleporting.

“One down.” The girl cheered, twirling her scythe in triumph a few times before it disappeared.

“And hundreds, if not thousands more to go.” Her familiar stated from wherever he was. “We should find more, it has been far too long since I last tasted demon.”

“There’s one right here.” The girl gestured to the slain demon at her feet.

“Weakling.” Her familiar grumbled. “One defeated by you alone is not worthy of my fangs.”

“Hey!” She protested. “He faced off against all of these guys before we got here, surly they did some damage before going down.”

“A fair point.” The familiar conceded. “But I sense a more powerful foe in the next passage over. Shall we?”

A groan caught the blue-haired girl’s attention before she could reply. “Ah, still alive, are we?” She asked of one of the angels on the ground.

The angel’s eyes focused on the girl standing over her. “Cursed Blood?” She growled in recognition.

The girl rolled her eyes.

“Begone! Remove thy foul aura from my presence!”

“Tch…” The girl shook her head. “Yeah, yeah. I know you didn’t ask for it, but you’re welcome for the save anyway.” With that, she turned and headed toward the gates and the heart of the battle. “Ingrate.” She tossed over her shoulder.

The blue-haired girl took to the air and disappeared from view. Upon clearing the building between the passages, she immediately realized her familiar was wrong. There wasn’t a powerful foe over here, rather there were several. However, that did not stop her familiar from materializing, in his monstrous battle form, beside one of the demons and clamping his jaws down on its legs, nearly hewing it off in one bite.

Not one to be left out of the fun, the blue-haired girl made a sweeping motion with her arm, summoning half a dozen daggers along its arc. The act of casting dispersed her invisibility, but the demons below barely noticed as their attention was focused on the giant cat attacking them. Of course, when the daggers rained down upon them, along with a bout of laughter, she was harder to ignore.

With each foe felled, the blue-haired girl became more excited. With each injury incurred, she became angrier. The manic mix of emotions drove her deeper into the invading forces. Her daggers flew in all directions, piercing all in their path. Her summoned scythe separated souls and limbs alike. And her decoys distracted the demons to allow her every dirty and demoralizing trick she could think of to destroy them.

At her side, her familiar fought as well. His claws shredded lesser foes while his fangs ripped sizable chunks out of the bigger ones. She was vaguely aware that he had likely swallowed at least thrice his own weight in demon, even with his larger form, but she cared little, so long as he was able to keep up with her.

This was her life. This was what she lived for. Life in this place was only interesting when the enemy invaded, which had been less frequent as of late. No doubt they had been building up their forces for this attack, so there was a chance that once repelled, they might stay away for a while. All the more reason to make the best of this assault and get in as many kills as possible.

Of course, there were plenty of angels around also engaged in battle. And while some were grateful for her assistance, if put off by her tactics, most treated her as had the one she had saved from the first demon. But their jeers and sneers went ignored as the blue-haired girl focused solely on the fight.

All was going well, or at least well enough. She and her familiar had just repelled an attempted ambush and were ready to move on when…

“Wait!” The blue-haired girl was halted by a hand grabbing her wrist.

She wheeled around. “What are you…” Her snarl was cut short as her gaze fell upon a redheaded girl and she immediately stopped trying to break free from the surprisingly strong hold.

Holy hell…

She was beautiful. A true angel.

Auburn tresses flowed down past her shoulders. A small, pink flower adorned a clip that held aside her bangs, but only on the right side for some reason. A few other highlights of pink stood out against the otherwise expected shades of blue and purple of the standard battle armor. Golden caps imbued her wings with a sapphire hue of angelic magic.

Golden…

By the gods… The girl’s golden gaze made the blue-haired girl’s heart want to sprout its own wings and take flight.

“Are you alright?” Her voice… “You look like you need healing.”

“I’m…” The blue-haired girl’s voice cracked, forcing her to clear her throat before trying again. “I’m fine.”

“You have a spear sticking through you.” The redhead stated firmly. “You are not fine.” She reached for the weapon in question but recoiled as though touching a hot stove.

“Careful with that.” The blue-haired girl warned.

“How is it not burning you?”

“Perks of the Curse, I suppose.” She shrugged.

The redhead’s eyes never left the spear, and after a moment of silence, her expression became one of determination. She took a deep breath and reached for it again.

“Hey, what are you…?” The blue-haired girl protested, turning in an attempt to keep the spear out of reach.

However, the redhead was too quick and was able to grab hold. “I’m sorry, but this might hurt a bit.” She explained before hauling back. Hard.

The blue-haired girl’s face twisted in pain as the spear was pulled free, but no more than half a second later, a warm, soothing sensation began spreading from the wound. She looked down to see the redhead’s hands glowing with a gentle pink aura as they fed healing magicks into her.

“There, that should do for now.” The redhead patted the area she had just healed.

“Thank you…” the blue-haired girl said after a moment. “But… why?”

The redhead blinked. “What do you mean, why?”

“Why did you heal me?”

“I’m a healer?”

“Yes, I know, but…”

“I mean, you’re an angel, right?”

“Technically…”

“But you’re at least on our side, right?”

“You mean you didn’t know before you…?”

“I assumed as much after watching you kill those demons, including the one who ran you through with that spear.” The other girl tilted her head with an expression of both confusion and concern. “Would you have preferred I not have healed you?”

“That’s not what I meant, I… uhm…” The blue-haired girl’s shoulders slumped. “I guess I’m just not used to it.”

“Not used to being healed?”

“Not around here, no.”

The redhead furrowed her brow as her concern grew. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“Perhaps it isn’t” The blue-haired girl admitted. “But such is the case for one of a cursed bloodline like me.”

“Cursed blood…” The redhead repeated. “Is that why your wings are…”

“Black? Yeah. They kinda stand out, don’t they.”

“They’re unique.” The hint of a smile tugged at the other girl’s lips. “And they suit you. I think they’re quite lovely.”

Lovely…? The blue-haired girl felt heat rise to her cheeks.

“A-a-anyway, I… should get back to the battle.” The blue-haired girl tried to get her composure back together. “Those demons aren’t going to defeat themselves.” She forced a chuckle. “Oh, but before I go, might I ask of you a favor?”

“Certainly.”

“Would you be willing to heal my familiar as well?”

“Absolutely.”

As if on cue, the air between them shimmered for a second before a black cat popped into existence. The redhead’s smile grew as she held out her hands, upon which the cat alighted.

“You have my thanks, m’lady.” The familiar offered his gratitude.

“And with that…” The blue-haired girl turned.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” The redhead reached out to touch her shoulder.

“Hm?” She turned back.

“I actually have a favor to ask of you as well, if you don’t mind.”

Mind? Did she mind? Certainly, part of her wanted to hasten her return to the fray, knowing full well it would take a few kills to ramp herself back up into her frenzy. But a different part of her wanted to do just about anything the redhead might ask.

“… Perhaps…” was the answer she heard come out of her mouth.

“I need help locating our captain.”

“Our captain?”

“Of the defense force?”

“Not my captain.”

“Oh…”

“No, sorry.” The blue-haired girl shook her head. “I know who you mean, I just… never mind.” She paused for a moment to think. “You know, I haven’t seen her out here yet, so she’s probably still back in the cathedral. Probably planning her counter strike.”

“Where is the cathedral?”

The blue-haired girl raised an eyebrow. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“I was just transferred.”

“You picked a hell of a time to arrive.” She couldn’t help scoffing.

“So it would seem.”

“Anyway, I’d say follow me as I know the area, but…” She glanced at her familiar. “How does the path look?”

The cat turned in the direction of cathedral and concentrated for a moment. “Not good.” He stated.

“Right, so teleporting it is.”

“Teleporting?” The redhead inquired.

“Yup. It’s going to take me a few jumps, but just hold on and trust me.”

“Alrii~aaah!?” The redhead panicked as she was suddenly several meters in the air, holding on to… nothing?

“Sorry, sorry.” The blue-haired girl apologized. “Force of habit with the invisibility, but I got you, you won’t fa… never mind.”

Of course she wouldn’t fall. She’s an angel. She’s got her own wings. The blue-haired girl mentally chastised herself.

Despite this observation, the redhead still clung tightly to her as though she was actually afraid of falling. And while the behavior struck the blue-haired girl as odd, she had to admit she didn’t particularly mind it. In fact, the redhead’s anxious expression was rather… cute.

A couple jumps later, the two landed in the courtyard of the cathedral.

“Ah, you’re here!” A blonde girl in front of a couple dozen angelic troops exclaimed happily as she stared directly at the blue-haired girl.

Gods damn it… She should have remembered that there was no hiding from one as powerful as her.

“<Now, now.>” The blonde said in an ancient tongue as she sauntered past the redhead and over to her. “<You should know better than to blaspheme in front of me.>” She wrapped her arms tightly around the blue-haired girl and with a single spoken syllable, forced her to dismiss her invisibility.

“<As if you actually care. Hey, let go!>” The blue-haired girl struggled vainly against the strong embrace. “Oh for the love of…”

“Hmmm?”

The blue-haired girl growled. “Here, hug him.” She reached over and snatched her familiar out of the æther. “You two always get along so well anyway.”

“<Pretty kitty!>” The blonde cried, releasing the blue-haired girl in favor of her cat.

“Hmph… I should just transfer his contract over to you one of these days.” The blue-haired girl grumbled as she watched her familiar snuggle against the blonde and start purring.

“Captain?” One of the other angels attempted to get his leader’s attention.

“Yes?” The blonde responded as she began to scratch the cat behind his ears.

“Our battle plan?”

“Oh yes, of course. Well, with our new arrivals, the plans have changed.” She gestured to the two girls beside her, flatly ignoring the looks of disapproval from many of her troops. “Give me a moment to debrief them.”

“Hey, I just came to deliver her.” The blue-haired girl said jutting her chin toward the redhead. “And now I’ll get out of your hair and back to doing what I do best.”

“The demons’ general is Jhank” The blonde stated, her entire demeanor becoming more somber as she dropped the name like a hammer.

The blue-haired girl cursed in the ancient tongue, ignoring the twitch of the blonde’s eye. “You know I’m not powerful enough to take him down, right?” She said after a moment. “I mean I suppose I can help, but on my own, his regeneration can overcome anything I can dish out. Hell, I don’t think your little squad here could take him on.” She glanced at the gathered troops, making a rude gesture in response to several leers. “You on the other hand.” She pointed to the blonde. “If you did your thing, we could have a chance. But you’d need the right window of opportunity. And for that you’d need a good…” It clicked in her mind. She closed her eyes, tilted back her head and released a sigh. “Distraction.”

“I knew I could count on you.” The blonde nodded.

The blue-haired girl gritted her teeth. “I haven’t agreed yet.”

“I know you will do what is right, eventually.”

“You know you’re going to owe me big for this, right?”

“Anything. Whatever your little heart desires.” There was no teasing in the blonde’s tone, she was dead serious. And that managed to bother the blue-haired girl more.

“I’d ask for that in writing, but I doubt we have time.”

“You know I never break my word.”

“Yes, but… oh never mind. Let’s just… get this over with.” The blue-haired girl flapped her wings once to take her up half a meter. “C’mon.” She said to her familiar. “I don’t think I’ll need you to show me the way, even I can sense that power.” She began to drift listlessly in the direction of the city gate.

“Uhm…” The redhead spoke up.

“Yes, I’ll be needing you to help protect my troops.” The blonde stated, finally acknowledging the other girl’s presence.

“Alright…” The redhead’s gaze drifted toward the departing blue-haired girl.

“She’s not one of my troops.”

“But…”

“She’ll be fine.”

“You guys coming or are you just going to stay here and chat?” The blue-haired girl tossed over her shoulder.

She didn’t wait for a response before she cast her invisibility and took flight. She avoided teleporting so as not to leave the others too far behind and ensuring the distraction she was expected to make would not be unnecessarily extended. Still, she made pretty good time in traveling to the gate, as she wasn’t stopping to fight every single demon along the way.

There he was, the lumbering behemoth of a demonic general. Jhank. The blue-haired girl wasn’t quite sure, but he seemed bigger than the last time she had seen him. His aura had changed as well. He was stronger now than she remembered.

For the briefest of moments, the blue-haired girl wondered if the blonde would be able to succeed in taking him down, even with perfect timing and aim. But she immediately dismissed the thought. She would have to have faith in the blonde, because if she failed… she didn’t want to think about that.

She approached the general from behind as he engaged a handful of angelic guards. She knew the latter didn’t stand a chance but would probably last long enough for her to make a quick analysis of the area to finalize her part of the plan. Landing near the entrance of a sizable stone structure and leaning against a stone pillar, she summoned a dagger.

Here goes nothing… She sent the summoned blade forth to strike the general squarely between the shoulders.

Jhank barely seemed to notice and finished off the last two angels with a single swing. He then reached behind himself to where the dagger had hit and scratched as though itching a insect bite. Finally, he turned toward his attacker.

“You.” The general pointed at the girl. “You’re a Tsushima.”

“Yes. I’m aware.” She crossed her arms defiantly as he approached. “Your point?”

The general leaned down until his face was barely a centimeter from hers. The two stared, unblinking at each other for what seemed like an eternity. The intense aura between them spread out, catching the attention of nearby combatants until an eye of uneasy calm had formed amidst the storm of battle.

Finally, he opened his mouth to speak. “Are you sure you’re fighting on the right side?”

“You asked me that last time and my answer hasn’t changed.” The girl replied defiantly.

“I see.” He stood back up to full height. “It’s been a while since I fought a Tsushima.”

“I know.”

Jhank’s laugh was like a landslide bearing down on a small village. “Ah yes, remind me, little one, how that fight went.”

“It didn’t end well.”

“For you.”

“Or anyone.”

“On your side.”

“Sure…” The blue-haired girl decided not to point out the losses on his side because she was well aware the general cared little for those below him, so long as he achieved victory.

“So, are you expecting a different outcome this time?”

“Of course.”

“Very well.” With speed that belied his size, he brought his sword down upon the girl, carving through her and the pillar as though they were little more than sea foam.

From her new position, the blue-haired girl watched her decoy disappear under the collapsing stone and prepared another shot. However, no sooner had the blade manifested than a red glow appeared around the general’s off hand. A hand that was pointing directly at her.

Two spells narrowly missed colliding in the middle as they both sped toward their targets.

“Tch…” The blue-haired girl barely dodged the fiery ball of energy, but when it exploded against the wall behind her, she was still peppered with shrapnel. The burning scent of brimstone filled her nose. Hellfire.

“You think I don’t remember your tricks?”

Not good. Not good. Very much not good! The girl thought as she sought a new vantage point. Not only did Jhank remember her abilities, he had gained new ones of his own. She cursed as she dodged another blast that set ablaze a statue that by all rights should not have been flammable. By the gods, how long was the blonde going to take?

A fierce roar caught her attention and she looked in time to see her familiar materialize and clamp his jaws down on the general’s leg.

“Blasted cat!” The general growled, swinging his sword.

Fortunately for the familiar, in battle form, his fur was as strong as any shield and the blade bounced off his side. Unfortunately, the sheer force of the blow still managed to deal damage.

Seeing an opening, the blue-haired girl teleported directly behind the general and summoned her scythe. However, the general, true to his point about knowing her tricks, swung his sword, seemingly blindly, behind him. Thus, instead of getting in a strike, she was forced to block.

The girl chastised herself for being predictable. Then how about…

She teleported into a position hovering just in front of Jhank who raised a curious eyebrow. She made quick eye contact with her familiar, who seemed to understand, before raising her scythe. The general wielded his blade around from the other direction, making it obvious he had no intent to block. But halfway through his swing, the familiar planted his feet and pulled, throwing the general off balance just enough for the blue-haired girl to dodge. She immediately used the opportunity to drive her blade into his chest.

“Not bad.” Jhank admitted. “I actually feel that.”

“Good, now feel this.” She heaved up to… do nothing. “Geh?”

The general chuckled as the girl quickly dismissed her blade and prepared to flee.

“<Lock on!>” A distant shout could be heard over the din of battle.

The blue-haired girl groaned as the tone the blonde chose was far too cheerful for what the situation warranted. Not that she was typically any better, but…

From on high, pure white energy radiated down like a sunbeam. A deadly laser that pounded down on the general, melting his armor almost immediately. For the first time since the blue-haired girl had arrived, his expression became one of pain. He tried to move out of the way of the attack, but found himself hindered by a sizable cat still attached to his leg.

Hindered, but not completely immobile, and he managed about half a meter with effort. However, black tendrils suddenly sprang up from the ground and wrapped themselves around his limbs.

“What the hell?” He bellowed.

“You’re not the only one who learned new spells.” The blue-haired girl said from nearby.

She clenched her fist and made a gesture as though pulling something down. Obeying the command, the tendrils began dragging the general back under the beam. For his part, the familiar redoubled his own efforts in the brutal tug-of-war.

This is it. The blue-haired girl allowed herself a smile as the general was set ablaze by the holy light. She was, however, a bit disappointed that he was not screaming in agony, despite having collapsed to his hands and knees. In fact, she was rather surprised as to how calm he had suddenly become.

“Vignari.” Jhank intoned.

“What?”

“Vignari.”

“Wait, no!”

“Yth shio wielg vhira!”

“Oh gods…”

“Tsushi

“Still here, are you?”

The redhead looked up to see the blonde enter the room and offered her a smile in greeting.

“Yeah…”

“You can’t leave her alone, can you?”

“I am a healer, you know.”

“I also know that I ordered you to protect my troops, not her.”

The redhead felt her smile fade. “But, I…”

“May I ask why?” The blonde cut her off. “Why did you disobey my order? Why did you risk yourself to protect her?”

“I… don’t know.” The redhead admitted as she turned her gaze to the blue-haired girl on the bed. “There’s just… There is just something about her…”

“Something?”

“Something that makes me want to protect her.”

The blonde snorted and the redhead looked up to see her making a poor effort to hold back a smile before eventually laughing.

“<It’s fine. It’s fine.>” The blonde waved off her previous seriousness as she approached the bed. “I had others who were able to make barriers to protect us. Not as strong as yours, but…”

“…”

“And I’m not mad.” The blonde continued. “In fact, I’m quite grateful. You know, she could use more friends like you. Honestly, she could use more friends in general, but I think someone like you in her life would do her a world of good. Might keep her out of trouble.” Her smile turned into a smirk as she gave the redhead a visual inspection that seemed to linger far too long in certain places, making the redhead shift uncomfortably. “Or maybe get her into some trouble.”

“Get her into…?”

“Yes, I know what you’re thinking. You’re reputation precedes you, Rikocchi; you’re a rule follower. But you don’t always have to break rules to get into trouble.”

“I’m… not sure I get it.”

“And who knows, perhaps I can use you to finally convince her to join me.”

“Join you?”

“I said earlier she isn’t one of my troops, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to have her under my command.” The captain explained. “As I’m sure you’ve seen, her skills would be invaluable to the defense of this area. And I’d prefer to have more control over them.”

“In other words, you want to put a leash on her?”

“Mmm… I think I’ll leave that up to you.”

Riko felt her cheeks heat up. “C-Captain Ohara!”

“Just Mari is fine. I’ve never been one to care much about all the formalities of rank and whatever.”

“But your other troops…”

“Yeah, I know, it bugs me, but I’ve pretty much given up on them. But you’re new, so maybe…” Mari considered before shrugging. “Anyway, I need to go make a report to Her.” The captain’s tone shifted strangely when she mentioned Her. “But there is one more thing.”

“Oh?”

“When she wakes up, tell that you have an idea about my debt.”

“I do?”

“She’ll know what you mean.” She winked, spun and was out the door before Riko could inquire further.

“Is she gone?”

Riko jolted at the unexpected question coming from the blue-haired girl. “Y-You’re awake?”

“I am.”

“How much did you hear?”

“Pretty much everything.” The blue-haired girl opened her eyes and smiled when her gaze fell on the small cat sleeping on her chest. “Hey, boy.” She cooed gently, running a hand from head to tail a few times, causing him to start purring. “So it was you I heard calling my name at the end there.” She stated, turning back to the redhead.

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

“Though I am curious if you actually needed it.” The cat interjected.

“Phobetor!” The blue-haired girl swatted him gently. “Even if I didn’t, it was still a kind gesture.”

“You didn’t need my shield?” Riko inquired, confused.

“My master is practically indestructible.” Phobetor stated.

“Practically?”

“Practically.” The blue-haired girl confirmed. “Jhank’s self-destruction spell was extremely powerful and your shield is the main reason I’m still here…” A thought occurred to her. “Say, why aren’t you over there?” She pointed to the other bed in the room. “Weren’t you right next to me when your shield broke?”

“I’m sorry.” Riko turned her gaze down and to the side. “I only had time to throw up an emergency barrier. I couldn’t cast all of the other personal protections on you that I already had on me.”

“Anyway, without your protection, that blast probably would have killed me.”

“Killed? But I thought you just said…”

“I’d’ve come back.” The blue-haired girl shrugged.

“You would be reborn?”

“No, I go through a bit of a different process. It’s…” She paused and put her fingers to her mouth in thought. “Listen, I can’t explain it, just trust me, it’s different. Less time consuming, but more painful.”

“Painful?”

“Extremely. And you saved me from that…” She winced as she tried to sit up and instead clutched at her side. “Or, maybe just most of it.” She barely noticed her familiar rolling off her chest before settling back down on her lap.

“I’m sorry!” Riko rushed forward to put her hand where the other girl was holding and cast a healing spell.

The blue-haired girl chuckled. “I’m fine.”

“You also think you’re fine when you’re impaled on a spear.”

“You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?”

“No, I’m not.” Riko shook her head. “For all I knew, that could have killed you.”

“And I just told you that I’d’ve come back.”

“And you just told me that doing so would be extremely painful.”

The blue-haired girl opened her mouth to counter but was cutoff as the redhead continued.

“As a healer and protector, it is my duty to ward against such things.” Riko crossed her arms decisively. “You seem like the type who is bad at taking care of yourself, so I intend to keep an eye on you. And as Mari said, you could use someone in your corner.”

“I’ve got Phobetor. I’m fine.”

“As fine as…”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” The blue-haired girl held up her hands. “I’m sorry, I just… I guess I’m not used to anyone caring so much, or at all really; they’re always so turned off by the whole cursed blood thing.” She sighed. “Mari cares, but sometimes I think it’s only because she sees me as another tool to used, another weapon to be wielded.”

“I get the feeling she cares more than she lets on.”

“Maybe…” The blue-haired girl shrugged. “But you know it’s not always like this.”

“Like what?”

“This.” She gestured widely to everything and nothing in particular. “This whole waking up in a bed thing after falling in battle. Usually I wake up where I fell. Or somewhere else; don’t ask. But never in a comfortable, clean bed with a friendly face smiling at me. I never knew it could be this way, but I think I could get used to it.”

“Or maybe you could get used to not pushing so hard and fighting to the point where you fall in battle?”

“Hrm…” The girl in the bed considered. “I don’t think that’s going to happen… although… Perhaps with your shields and wards and whatnot.”

“They can only do so much, as you’ve seen.”

“You came out of that blast unscathed, did you not?”

“I had some healing I needed to do on myself afterward.”

“But not as much as on me.”

“No, not as much as… why do you seem happy about that?”

“Because I survived.” The blue-haired girl proclaimed with a grin. “Another notch on the belt. Another achievement I can claim that ordinary angels would be incapable of.”

Riko observed the other girl warily for a moment before asking. “Is this war just a game to you?”

“Well…” The blue-haired girl rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, as though realizing her faux pas.

“Yes.” Phobetor stated in her stead, earning another swat.

“I mean, what else is there in life?”

“There are plenty of…” Riko started.

“What else is there in my life?” The blue-haired girl quickly corrected. “I mean here I am caught between two side at war, neither of whom really want me for me, but both are willing to use my power… so…”

The room fell into silence, an awkward silence that felt like it was lasting far too long.

“Perhaps,” Riko was the first to speak “maybe I can help change that?”

“You’d be willing to do that for me?” The blue-haired girl seemed like she wanted to believe, but her life experience warned her otherwise.

“I would.” The redhead stated definitively. “And not just out any sort of sense of duty either, in case you’re worried about that.”

The blue-haired girl stared at the redhead, gears spinning in her mind. Finally, a smile pulled at her lips. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” Riko nodded. “So, Tsushima, that’s your family name, right?”

“It is.”

“What is your given name?”

“You may call me Yohane.” A prideful declaration.

“Johannes?”

“Her name is Yoshiko.” Phobetor said.

“Curse you!” Yoshiko scolded her familiar.

“I’m no more cursed than you.” The cat seemed to shrug. “Because of you, I might add.”

“Because of…?” Riko tilted her head.

“As her familiar, my soul is bound to hers, and through said bond, the curse of her bloodline afflicts me as well.” He explained in a matter-of-fact tone. “However, be it labelled a curse, it has allowed me access to powers I would have lacked had I been summoned by a normal angel. To that end, I am grateful to serve Yoshiko as my master.”

“It’s Yohane!” Yoshiko insisted. “And of course you should be grateful to be my most elite familiar.”

“You’re only familiar.”

Yoshiko growled in frustration as Riko chuckled at the interaction as she got the feeling this was a fairly common thing between the two.

“So, Yochanan was it?” Riko asked after a moment.

“Yohane.”

“How about Yocchan?”

The blue-haired girl’s expression changed, and pink began to dust her cheeks. “A-alright…” She stuttered out. “B-b-but only Riri can call me by such a cute name.”

“Riri?”

“It’s only fair that I get to call you by a cute nickname as well.”

Well, it wasn’t exactly a name she would have chosen for herself, Riko couldn’t deny that the name was kind of cute. Kind of… maybe…

“You know, now that I’m awake,” Yoshiko continued, “I could really eat something.” As if on cue, her stomach grumbled.

Riko laughed as she stood up. “Alright, I’ll go see what I can find.”

“Oh, and whatever you find, bring some for Phobetor as well.”

“Alright.”

As the redhead made her exit, the blue-haired girl settled back down on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling, she thought this moment might mark the start of a new life. A more… heavenly life.

Author’s Notes Continued in Followup Post

#fictober19 #YohaRiko #YoshiRiko #Sakurauchi Riko #Tsushima Yohane #Love Live Sunshine #Heavenly Life #fanfic #Tsushima Yoshiko

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