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the-pouncing-puppy · 2 months

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The Adventures of Bruno the Golden Dog Episode 1

Once upon a time there was a golden retriever pup named Bruno. He had a natural born talent for welcoming people home. Ever since he was little, he was always running to the doors and windows to see if he could spot anyone who needed a welcoming. When people did come in, he wagged his golden tail as fast as he could, stirring up a big friendly wind. He sniffed everyone in order to remember them forever, and he gave as many kisses as he could manage.

When Bruno was old enough, he was adopted to his forever home. This happened to be a big monastery. Everyone who lived there were brothers, although none of them looked alike, as with Bruno and his littermates, but humans were unusual in their appearance to begin with so he did not question this much.

Bruno proudly continued his vocation of welcome services at the monastery, but he had a lot of questions. Who was the leader of the pack here? Why did the brothers pray so much? What was a prayer anyways?

Bruno thought about these mysteries quite a bit, but they were much like his tail… no matter how much he chased it, he could never catch up to the darn thing. One day, he decided to ask around.

He found a couple of church mice collecting crumbs. Bruno barked a greeting and offered them some kisses, which they politely declined. “All woofs aside” he said, “Do you guys know about the prayer? What is it anyways?”

The church mice dropped all their crumbs and all tried to explain at once. They knew a lot about prayer due to their position, apparently. “You have to read from books,” squeaked one. “But you have to sing,” said another. Still another insisted that it had something to do with folding yourself up, the knees and hands and so on, like an exercise. They argued back and forth about it until they noticed a big squirrel eyeing their crumbs, and then they quickly gathered everything up and scampered away. Poor Bruno was left feeling melancholy– he could not read or sing, and he had neither knees nor hands. His ears were drooping terribly but he couldn’t get them to perk up. He decided to hide in the forest for awhile.

Moping around in the trees and brush, Bruno found a rock that smelled really interesting and sat down with it to clear his mind. He was hardly paying attention as the sun set away, and the moon rose overhead. Until suddenly–

“Who!!!!”

Bruno jumped to his paws and perked his ears to find the source of the exclamation.

“Who!!!! Who!!!! Who!!!!”

“Who me?” He barked. “It’s me, Bruno!!”

“Who is Bruno?” said the voice, which was coming from a big shadow in the canopy. “Who?”

“I’m Bruno the dog,” explained Bruno, feeling confused. Who was this guy?

There was a great flapping of wings, and a big bird flew out of the trees and landed on a branch near Bruno. Bruno didn’t want to be rude, but this bird was pretty strange looking. His face had an odd shape and an odder expression.

“I see,” said the bird. “I am the barn owl, Barnaby. I just woke up and was going to find some breakfast, but then I noticed you. Are you a new neighbor?”

Bruno shook his head. “I’m from the monastery outside the forest. I just came here to think.”

The owl seemed excited by this. “Thinking is excellent,” he declared. “My kind highly encourage it. What sort of things have you been thinking of?”

Bruno hesitated, then decided to see if the owl might know more than the mice. “Say,” he said. “D’you know about the prayer? What is it, and is there a way I can do it too?”

Barnaby let out a great, “Who!!!!”, spread open his wings, and took off for a short glide around the area. His wingspan was pretty wide and he soared very impressively. He landed again in front of Bruno and said, “There you have it.”

“Ruff!!!” exclaimed Bruno. He must have missed it. “Did you do it?”

“I did.”

“When?”

“Just then!”

Bruno was getting very frustrated now. “But all you did was hoot and flap around…”

The owl settled down to provide the lecture portion of his demonstration. He was very pleased to have such an opportunity, as most of the forest animals were not interested in higher learning.

“As an owl,” he began loftily, “I do owl things. Why do I do owl things? I do them because I am an owl. By the same token, please tell me what you are, what you do, and why you do them.”

“I’m a dog,” said Bruno hesitantly. “I do dog things… because I am a dog!”

“Who! Who taught you to do dog things?”

Bruno considered this. He had mostly known how to do dog things from the day he was born. But he was no prodigy… his brothers and sisters had also known too. How to bark, how to smell stuff… it wasn’t rocket science after all. “It’s just instinct,” said Bruno. “Everyone knows that.”

Barnaby indicated the forest around him. “It’s the same for all of us in the forest. We just know what to do. There is no need to write it down, because it is written inside of us. That writing inside of us is from the Maker, who the brothers at your monastery serve.”

Bruno’s mouth fell open. “The pack leader? I knew it… I knew there was a leader somewhere!”

The owl nodded wisely. “Dear Bruno, when you do what you are designed to do, that is how you can read the words of your prayer. It’s very simple you see– why don’t you give it a try now?”

Feeling both excited and nervous, Bruno sat down and looked up at the night sky. The moon, which he had noticed many times before, always seemed to be winking at him in a way that said, “Chase me! Catch me!”

At times like this, there was only one thing to do.

“Awooooo…” he began quietly. But then louder and louder… “Awooooo!!! AWOOOOO!!!!!”

Bruno’s howling contained all his feelings about how much he wished he could find out more about that mysterious and playful moon, but knew he could not, and was still just happy it was there. The feeling was one of his instincts that he shared with other dogs. Somewhere in the distance, he heard another awooo to answer his own… it sounded a bit more polished than Bruno’s– probably the hound dog who also lived in the neighborhood.

“There,” said Barnaby. “Now you see you knew how all along, silly dog. Hadn’t you better run home? Who is waiting for you?”

Bruno realized with a pang of guilt that everyone would be waiting for him. There weren’t any other dogs at the monastery– it was up to him to make sure everyone got a warm welcome when they returned home.

He ran home, howling all the way, and made a big commotion in the kitchen where all the brothers were gathering for dinner. They always said a prayer before they ate, and now Bruno knew how to join in. After getting many pats on his golden head, Bruno went to eat his own crunchies. The church mice were peeking out at him from their little hole in the wall, and Bruno made sure to leave some crumbs for them.

#creative writing #animal stories #him name bruno #children's stories

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indigobackfire · 3 years

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May I ask you a question: why do you like Diego and Ismelda? I'm not their hater, just neutural on them, but I can't get why some people like them.

Oh that's okay, nice of you to ask (some people would just attack). (Please excuse the length and any misspellings).

For starters, I have a tendency to like unlikable characters, yes as simple as that. No, no characters like Merula who you're supposed to hate or be enemies with, but characters supposed to annoy or make the person interacting/reading roll their eyes. That's how I made some of my best friendships in school.

I won't go in depth why I chose them to ship with my ocs (I encourage you to go through my shipping tags if you'd like) also because it's a whole other topic and I'll end up writing a bible here. I'll try as much as I can not use headcanons cause those will mean nothing to you, but I think is worth to say what I, Bee, think of them is not what my MC thinks of them and I would say she has a rocky start with these two as anyone.

First Ismelda.

I guess my liking if Ismelda gets a bit deeper than just liking a character I find nice, I actually see some of my school experiences on her. I wasn't emo doing grusome comments at all, but I was this outcast who thought of herself as this unappealing, unattractive, and uninteresting person who almost everyday wished she could be homeschooled because I just didn't have the patience to witness other people's bullshit. I wrote sad poetry for people just like her! I took 6 years in the same school to finally find a real friend because the others kept leaving me.

So in some points I can't help but sympathize with what she's going through. Being alone, seeing the only friend you have slip away to someone you can't possibly compete with - I was not an MC in school, I was Ismelda! -, being unattractive in a place where everyone looks at least cute, getting the side-eye for going against the grain. I have no sister, no negligent family, but as human I can empathize with her troubles.

Besides points I can sympathize with, I like some of her attitude of screw everyone and what everyone thinks, which is a perspective I sort of took after years of being laughed at. On the gruesomeness aspect, my last fandom, that I'm still in, is Hannibal, so I'm not unfamiliar to gruesome and cannibal jokes, characters being terrible to each other and we still shipping them and joking about them, and idk stabbing people? In media ofc xD

Also HER BARK IS MUCH HARSHER THAN HER BITE. People often comment negatively about her on the things she says, but it's obviously for shock value, when threat appears she's pissing her pants and it's not fooling anyone. It's hilarious to me like watching a lil baby puppy trying to seem threatening, sometimes we even place a finger on their mouth so they can bite us softly.

The 'haha I wish Voldemort was back' is her being at the same time an idiot, a product of her house (let's not forget at this period in time Slytherin is full of straight up DE kids with DE ideals), and unknowledgeable about what it all means. She hasn't been, as far as I know, directly affected by the 1st Wizarding War like Barnaby or Merula - those two literally had their stupid ass parents taken away.

I also like to watch JC try poorly to build her an arc. The placing of Crushed for example is off, happening after many dating SQs, but is there her arc begins - she has a stiff moral compass that gets a lil loose after that -, then we have the Sphinx club where she's way less hostile, the Quibbler SQ where they do all sorts of weird stuff to her but I wanna talk about it another time, and the Great Cook Off where she actually apologizes for overreacting. She's not a fully baked character, she's a caricature of the emo girl and I like to watch her development, and even when there's no visible development, I find humor.

I don't like everything she does or everything she says - but I don't even like Barnaby a 100% of the time - but I know it's fertile ground where a great character can grow.

As for Diego this might be shorter because I've known him for less time in the game.

Diego is extroverted, he's confident, and he's always eager to help. People's problem with him comes mostly from he's flashy, he has a grandiose sense of self, and that he s flirty. And none of those things are aspects I take trouble with.

I've said before, this talking in third person, calling himself 'great', 'the best' is a way of asserting himself to himself and others. And there's nothing wrong with that as there's nothing wrong with being a shy introvert. So far, he has placed himself high without ever placing someone down and he gives praise where praise is due.

As being flirty, which people really seem to hate and I really see no harm. Is not like he tried to kiss MC or said something inappropriate. I find it quite endearing actually. I'm gonna guess JC wanted to make him a Don Juan but landed on Johnny Bravo and I'm here having a laugh about it.

The 'omg he thinks he's the best but but MC never lost a duel to him' argument is so stupid to me, because the duels we do value nothing, if we lose a duel the game makes you pay to do another one as many times as we need. The value is in things known and said, Diego is literally a dueling instructor - probably placed as such by Flitwick. Unfortunately when we duel him is not like the game allows us to lose, is different from Penny's potion making, where she makes it while we sit and watch and even before we see her doing a potion, we're told she's the best at it and she's knows she is.

Diego has shown to be, besides his more prominent characteristics, to be thoughtful, always willing to help, and enthusiastic. He never shies away from the blame, he encourages others, and he's eager to listen to others. But like Ismelda he's really underdeveloped and underused.

One point to make would be his personality vibes with my MC's personality. She's an extrovert, she likes to think she's desired, she takes pride in the abilities she acquired along her curse breaking.

To conclude, do I think you should like them? It'd be nice for me to have someone to talk about them with, but it's not about what I want. You don't have to like them, all I ask from people is respected, specially on other people's content. I have characters I don't like in the game (I didn't max out Tulip on purpose, and Andre who was starting to grow on me had a big reset lately), so I won't try to force them down your throat, but you won't see me dragging them down.

Your ask was why I like them and if all said wasn't enough, the simple answer is they're both ridiculous and the make me laugh and smile. I'd like to have them as friends.

#they are underwritten #underused #but they're so funny #and i just find them so intriguing #my ocs deserve happiness so I gave them these idiots #ask #hphm #hogwarts mystery #ismelda murk #diego caplan #sorry i went on a tangent many times #it took me like an hour to write this xD

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thingswhatareawesome · 3 years

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the father you never were

title: the father you never were fandom: Tiger and Bunny pairing: Barnaby/Kotetsu word count: 2398 summary: After Kotetsu reveals how his father treated him after his NEXT abilities manifested, Barnaby reassures him about what sort of parent he’s been to Kaede

For the March Flash fiction thirteenth prompt: Inheritance and fourteenth prompt: "Take my hand”

His beer bottle clinked softly as he set it down on the bar’s marble countertop next to his hat and Kotetsu sighed. Antonio had just left, and while he’d mustered up a smile as he’d said goodnight to his friend, Antonio paused as he’d turned to leave, frowning slightly.

“You’re okay?” he’d asked, but Kotetsu waved him off, saying he was fine. The other hero finally turned to go, shaking his head slightly, calling over his shoulder for Kotetsu to call if he needed anything.

Antonio probably knew what was up, truth be told. He’d been around Kotetsu a significant portion of his life, and had seen those times, even when they were still teenagers, where he’d get quiet and subdued. And he’d definitely been like that today, distant, a bit lost in his own head, a bit serious and occasionally short with the others. Kotetsu had to apologize more than once for being a downer, shrugging it off when the others tried to pry that he just had a lot on his mind—and no, it was nothing to do with Barnaby, they were totally fine.

And speaking of…. A hand grasped his shoulder as Barnaby slid onto the chair next to Kotetsu. “Heavy thoughts?” he asked. Signaling the bartender for his preferred glass of wine, his partner looked him up and down. “Or a bad day?”

“How was the photoshoot?” Kotetsu asked, not even subtle about avoiding the question, but Barnaby didn’t take the hint—or more likely, wasn’t going put up with Kotetsu’s usual routine of bottling things up.

“Antonio said you were unusually solemn tonight,” He sipped at his wine and gave Kotetsu a pointed look. “And he said you’ve been off all day. Just like you were this morning before we left the apartment.”

Kotetsu raised his beer to his lips, then swirled the bottle, watching the lights above reflect off the dark glass onto the countertop below. Finally he gave it up as a lost cause. Now that they were together, Barnaby was even less inclined to let him hide instead of talking about his emotions. With a short, sharp sigh, he muttered, “It’s my dad’s birthday today. And tomorrow is the date when Mom divorced him.”

The wine glass made a delicate clink as Barnaby set it down, tilting his head to peer at Kotetsu thoughtfully. “You’ve never spoken about your father before. Was he…were, or are you not close?”

Kotetsu was going to need more beer for this. He finished off the dregs from his bottle, then nodded at the bartender for another. “Long story short,” he finally said, “I don’t know whether he’s even alive anymore. But Dad was an asshole. When I told that one kid, what was his name, Tony? The one who moved the giant statues? When I told him about being called creepy and stuff when I first got my powers?” Kotetsu’s lips gave a bitter twist. “The kids at school weren’t the first ones who did that.”

That got Barnaby’s full attention, and he turned on his chair to fully face him. “Kotetsu….”

But now that Kotetsu had started, he didn’t feel inclined to stop. “He told me I was a freak. Called me a lot of names, yelled at me whenever I’d use my powers. He never hit me, but he made me feel like shit. Sent me to my room whenever he caught me powered up, and he was livid if I ever used them when I was near Muramasa or other kids. He made me swear to never touch people when they were active. Ever. Said that all my powers were good for was hurting people.” Taking a long drink from the bottle, Kotetsu scowled at the coaster on the bar top in front of him. “Screamed at at home, bullied at school, it was great.”

Barnaby’s hand settled on his wrist and gently squeezed it. “No wonder Mr. Legend became such an inspiration to you.”

The younger man’s hand was warm against his skin, and Kotetsu took a deep breath, letting it out in a gust. “Yeah. I mean, Mom always supported me, always told me I was good, but to have someone out and out say that I could save people, not hurt them, that was…everything.” He gave a rough bark of laughter and rubbed a hand over his face. “So when Dad yelled at me I started yelling back. I’d scream at him that I was gonna be a hero and prove him wrong.”

Kotetsu shrugged, rolling his neck and leaning against the back of the chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Mom finally had enough. They’d already argued a lot when Dad first started saying those things to me, then one night their yelling got so loud you could hear it outside. Mom gave him an ultimatum, he said no, so she kicked him out. After the divorce, we never saw him again.” The chair creaked as Kotetsu sagged back against the seat. “He must’ve had to send money or something, I think Mom got some sort of support. But he never came back, not even to visit my brother. Muramasa did nothing wrong—and he was a normal human. But dad didn’t want anything to do with him any more than he did me.”

Barnaby rubbed a comforting hand carefully across Kotetsu’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, That’s terrible, I had no idea.” He’d always been so stand-offish when they first met, but after their years as partners and as more, he’d picked up some of Kotetsu’s tendency to be more tactile, especially when offering support.

Kotetsu shrugged sharply, but he still sank into the feel of Barnaby’s touch, eventually leaning back far enough the front chair legs raised slightly. “We just eventually stopped talking about him. But sometimes I remember, and things like his birthday and stuff get me dwelling on it. It just pisses me off that like, not only does Kaede not get one of her grandfathers but I didn’t even have good stories I could tell her about him. Sorry honey, your grandad was a massive bag of crap of a person, that’s all I’ve got.”

Abruptly he tilted forward, the chairs legs thumping hollowly against the brick floor, and Kotetsu smacked the bar top with one hand. “Okay, but this is what really pisses me off. Bad enough that he treated me like shit when I was a kid, but you know what?” At Barnaby’s look, he leaned in. “Do you know how many nights I couldn’t sleep, even when Tomoe was only still pregnant and Kaede hadn’t even been born yet, how many nights I was awake all night worrying, what if I turned out like him?”

“There’s no way,” Barnaby interrupted, “absolutely no way. Kotetsu, I don’t know your father, but I know you, and you’re an amazing person and an amazing father.”

“But what if i wasn’t!” Kotetsu threw his arms into the air, nearly swatting the bar patron sitting to his left. At their cross look, he pulled into himself, slouching forward with his elbows on the bar, arms held tightly against his sides. He began peeling the label from the bottle of beer. “And anyway, whatever good I’m doing as a father, it’s only because I try to do the opposite of whatever my dad did. It’s always on my mind, how he treated me, the stuff he’d say, and I’m always thinking, don’t do that. Ever. It’s always in the back of my head, don’t be like Dad.”

He let go of the bottle, stretched out his hands, spreading his fingers wide, then turning them over. “It’s just…you don’t know what you inherit from your parents, right? You’ve got their genetics. What did you inherit from them? And what did you learn from them when they’re raising you?” Kotetsu went quiet, rested his hands on the marble, stared down at them. “Let’s be real, though. We both know I haven’t been the best dad. I’ve screwed up a lot. I’ve broken promises, I haven’t been there for her when I should have.”

“You were doing the best you could.” Barnaby’s hand was once more a solid warmth against Kotetsu’s back, and he shifted closer to him, his knees pressing against Kotetsu’s leg. “You did what you could for her, to make sure she was safe and taken care of when you couldn’t be there. She understands now, why you made the decisions you did, and why you had to be away.”

“Just because she knows my reasons now doesn’t mean it didn’t still hurt her,” Kotetsu sighed. “And doesn’t keep her from getting upset when I overcompensate and act too over the top. She called me a try-hard once.”

Barnaby rested his elbow on the bar, setting his chin in his hand and regarding Kotetsu. He smoothed his other hand up Kotetsu’s spine, stroking the back of his neck gently with his thumb. “If you’re trying too hard or going overboard, that definitely means you’re not being your father. Whatever you inherited him through nature or learned from nurture, you’re always choosing to not be like him. Kotetsu,” Barnaby shook him gently, “you’re a good father.”

“But I’ve fucked up, Bunny. So often.”

“You’ve made mistakes. And you’ve learned from them, and you try to do better.” Barnaby’s gaze at him was level and resolute. “I’ve seen you.”

“And what if i slip?” Kotetsu swallowed. “Even just once? What if I’m not careful enough and I do or say something like him?”

“You won’t. I know you,” Barnaby’s belief and faith in him was as massive and unmovable as mountains, and Kotetsu felt his throat go tight as the younger man continued, “You care for Kaede, intensely. You love her, and you constantly put her before yourself. Every. Single. Day. You’re a good dad, because of you. Not because you needed a good father to make you be that way—but because you chose to be one. Because you choose to be a good father every moment of your life.”

Barnaby straightened in his seat suddenly, blond curls bouncing with the motion, and he reached out to Kotetsu. “Take my hand.”

“Eh?”

“Come on.” He waited, palm outstretched, until Kotetsu finally placed his hand on Barnaby’s. He grasped Kotetsu’s hand firmly. “Now repeat after me: I, Kaburagi T. Kotetsu, am a good father.”

“Bunny—“

“Say it,” Barnaby demanded.

Kotetsu sighed. “I, Kaburagi T. Kotetsu, am a good father.”

“Now repeat it.”

“I, Kaburagi T. Kotetsu, am a good father.”

“Again. Say it like you really believe it. Because it’s true,” Barnaby was a force of nature, unyielding, and his eyes practically blazed.

“I, Kaburagi T. Kotetsu, am a good father.”

“Again.” Each syllable was sharp, deliberate, emphatic.

Kotetsu’s breath had gone ragged, and it felt like he was being swept away by a giant wave, only keeping his feet because of Barnaby’s tight grip on his hand. “I, Kaburagi T. Kotetsu,” his voice cracked, “am a good father.” He covered his mouth with his left hand, took a shuddering inhale.

Barnaby’s voice came softer this time, gentle. “Say it once more. Please.”

“I’m. I’m a good dad,” Kotetsu finally managed. He mumbled a curse below his breath, scrubbing at his eyes. “Bunny…”

Barnaby ran his fingers through Kotetsu’s thick hair, still holding Kotetsu’s other hand, steadying him in more ways than just the physical. “Do you know why I’m so sure you’re a good father?” he asked, quietly. Then, at Kotetsu’s glance, “Because of what Kaede’s inherited from you. Your big heart. Your goodness, your kindness. Your drive to help others and to protect them.” Leaning in, he kissed Kotetsu’s temple. “You hate the thought of being like your father, but she wants to be like you.”

Curling his arm over Kotetsu’s shoulders, Barnaby pulled him into a hug, and Kotetsu let him, allowed himself to be held until he calmed, the emotional upheaval subsiding. “Thanks,” he said when they eventually pulled apart, though he could feel Barnaby’s arm still tucked behind him.

“You’ve been holding that in for awhile.”

“I guess so. I didn’t realize it still bothered me that much.” Kotetsu reached for his beer, but then only ended up toying with the bottle again. He didn’t really feel like drinking more. “There’ll probably still be times I’ll worry about it though.”

“I understand.” And of anyone, he knew Barnaby did. “But talk to Kaede or to me about it. Let us support you and remind you of what you’re doing things right. And remember,” he continued, catching Kotetsu’s eye, “Love, any type of love, happens even if we don’t think we deserve it. Even if we don’t think we want it or feel we’re good enough for it. Even if we do screw up.” His lips curved up just slightly into that small, almost hidden smile Kotetsu prized because it felt like it was just meant for the two of them. “I wonder who I learned that from?”

Kotetsu ducked and laughed quietly, feeling just a touch sheepish.

After Barnaby finished the last of his wine, he gave Kotetsu a questioning look, but Kotetsu shook his head. “Nah, i’m ready to be home.” And Barnaby did that smile again, and for the first time that day, Kotetsu found his own coming easily to his face. With a salute to the bartender, he slid from his chair and Barnaby followed suit, Kotetsu’s arm slipping into place around Barnaby’s waist and Barnaby’s settling over Kotetsu’s shoulders once more.

Maybe, HeroTV willing, he’d call Kaede tomorrow. Or even HeroTV unwilling. He’d make time.

#tiger and bunny #taibani #fanfiction #March Flash Fiction #touches briefly on the topic of an emotionally abusive parent

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diddlesanddoodles · 4 years

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DUMPLING ch 43

Still feeling the heat and sting of her pride, Nenani decided to take a walk towards the guards courtyard and see if she might watch them sparring. The thought occurred to her as she exited the nearest tunnel that they might not spar everyday and she was on a fool’s errand when the sound of shouting and swords meeting struck her ears. And then Rheil’s voice snapping at someone to keep their elbows in.

It took her a moment to work out where the door to the walkway was from the corridor, but was pleased to find a door near the end of the hall where the sounds of guards sparring was loudest. Peaking around the frame, she saw the wooden pathway that edged high along the square courtyard, the battlements above creating a sort of canopy overhead. Rheil stood in a spot kitty-corner to where Nenani was, looking down and giving encouragements or criticism to his men below.

She went to the wooden railing. The topmost rail was far above her head, but the supporting beam below that was just at the proper height for her to rest her arms on and peer down. It’s actual purpose, aside from additional support, also seemed to be a place for giants to prop their feet up. As Rheil was doing. It was several minutes of watching the guards below before Rheil noticed her and left his spot to approach her.

“Back again?” he asked, the corner of his mouth curling in a teasing smirk. Placing his arms on the railing, he leaned forward until he could see her.

“Yeah,” she said with a little trepidation. She hoped he wasn’t irked at her from before. She’s ignored his orders outright and he had sounded properly angry. But looking at his expression, it did not appear to be so.

“You trying to pick up a few things for the next time you meet that mage?”

“...couldn’t hurt,” Nenani replied with a shrug. “Maybe.”

He chuckled at that. “I don’t suppose her grace approves of this venture?”

“No,” she admitted with a frown, turning to look back down at the giants below. “But only because...I think she’s just scared. More of him than me hurting myself. She can barely say his name sometimes.”

“Well,” he said with a conceding tilt of his head. “As I understand it, she was at his mercy for many years. That does things to a person, Nenani. Terrible things. Even if all my men and these thick walls and Maevis’s magic could keep him out of the castle for good, he’s always going to be there in her mind.”

“But if he were dead, she wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore...”

The mild amusement of his expression died and he studied her for a moment. “And you plan to kill him? Is that it?”

She couldn’t answer for several moments. “...when Nonna gave me my dagger, Mama didn’t want me to have it. She wants me to learn how to control my magic, but only because it could kill me if I don’t. I’m sure if she knew how to, she’d seal it again. She’s scared. That he’d hurt me. And...I think it might be also because she thinks that if that if I knew how to fight that I’d be more likely to try and fight him.”

Rheil raised an eyebrow at her inquisitively. “Well...is she wrong?”

With narrowed eyes, she starred down as a giant lifted his sparring sword and brought it down with a loud bang. After a pause, she said, “...not entirely.”

Rheil surprised her by barking a loud laugh. Looking up at him in confusion, he grinned down at her and said, “You know how funny is it to hear such a tone of conviction from a such a small and young person?”

She frowned at him. “Just so you know, even squirrels can bite.”

He let another loud loud and then tilted his head at her in amusement. “Looking to add warrior to your list of titles, are you?”

“No,” she said. “I just...I’m tired of feeling so...helpless. Like I have to wait for someone to do things for me.”

Rheil shrugged. “That might be more to do with your age than your size, Nenani. Even us big folk felt that way when we were your age. I know I did.”

She didn’t reply at first, but after several moments, she said, “...I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”

The captains face grew thoughtful and he nodded. “I understand. But take it from someone who knows, lass. Don’t place that burden on yourself. People will be hurt. Some may even die. Our best defense against it is to be ready and to be smart. This mage...he’s different from anyone or anything I’ve ever faced. Nothing like those sorcerers a few years back. He commands an army of beast through forced coercion with a magic that not even the greatest arcane scholar in Vhasshal can decipher. He turns into bloody smoke for fuck’s sake. He’s more demon than man. As I’m sure you can attest to that better than most.”

“He is a demon,” she agreed.

“So a word a caution, lass,” he said, bending down into a crouch to be more on her level. “As I can see it in your eyes what’s going on in your head and you need to reign that in before you go on and do something stupid. I tell you this in all seriousness: no one is a mountain.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, looking at him with furrowed brows.

“If the time comes where you meet the mage again. Don’t act a fool and go at it on your own,” he reached out and gently poked her shoulder with a finger. “Rely on those around you. It’ll take the lot of us all to bring him down, mark my word. No matter how powerful your magic may be, remember: you’re not a mountain.”

She slowly nodded and let his words sink in.

“Now, all that aside,” he said with a smirk as he rose back to his feet. “If Nonna went on and gave you a dagger, it was for a purpose. Most folks think she’s a perfectly harmless little old lady, but believe me. I’ve been dealing with her since she arrived. That lady is a lot more devious and cunning than folks give her credit for. Warrick may lead the tribe now in name, but everyone knows Nonna is the real power there. So it seems an awful waste for you to not know how to use it properly.” He winked at her. “Even just a little bit.”

……………………………………………….

“See how they’re standing? You want your body angled to present as small a target as possible. Keep your weapon in front of you and your other hand up, it’s no use to you behind your back or at your side. Go on then, lads.”

Rheil stepped back from the two guards to give them room. Each held their own daggers clenched in their fists and raised up close to their chests. The other guards stood to the sides of the courtyard, watching the lesson with a sense of boredom.

Clint seemed to be the better of the guards when it came to close combat as he easily caught the other guards wrist with his own as their dagger plunged down and he twisted the wrist and the dagger up and away from his body which then afforded him a clean shot to his opponent’s vitals. He pressed the wooden blade of the sparring dagger against the other man’s throat and grinned. “And yer dead. Sorry, Jon.”

The other guard grunted and pushed the wooden dagger away. “All right then. One more time.”

They took their positions again, angled their bodies towards one another and at Rheil’s command, Jon thrust straight for Clint’s heart and just as before, Clint caught his wrist with his own and spun the arm away, his own dagger coming in to strike, but Jon’s other hand reached for his wrist and grabbed it. He turned his body as the inertia of Clint’s forward movement brought him closer and flipped the man over his shoulder and slammed him to the ground. The eyes of the other guards who had been finding the exercise rather boring were much more alert and several began to laugh. As soon as Clint was on the floor, Jon jumped onto him and held his dagger to his throat, grinning. “And yer dead. Sorry, Clint.”

Around them, the other guards yelled and laughed and clapped. From her seat on a crate nearby, Nenani’s eyes were wide. “That was amazing.”

“A dagger is a close combat weapon,” Rheil explained after dismissing his men. “It’s small size is deceiving and can easily do just as much damage as a broad sword if handled correctly. Now, I don’t claim to know much about the Thorn clans ways, but I have seen them use their daggers. The first time I ever saw it, it confused the hell outta me.”

“Why?” Nenani asked. “What were they doing?”

He tilted his head to regard with a small grin. “Dancing.”

She squinted at him in confusion. “...dancing?”

“Aye. Two little’uns with their daggers. Little younger than you. They were proper fighting forms, but they’d been blended into a dance. Had a guy banging away on a drum and everything so they kept in time. Kind of brilliant if you think about it.”

“I wonder if they’d teach me the dance,” Nenani said with a grin.

“You’ve never been to the Hill Tribes have you?”

“Nope.”

“Maybe next time I go, you can tag along,” he offered, leaning an arm against the crate. “I’m sure Nonna would be pleased to pieces to see you. She’s you’re...grandma?”

“Great aunt. Her brother was my grandpa.”

Rheil whistled. “Your a right proper wonder, lass. Never wouldn’ve guess the day I took you to the King you were actually a high born lady. Or a mage. Or a member of the Thorn clan.”

She snorted sardonically. “...it sounds so dramatic when you say it like that.”

“Don’t think so, eh?”

“I’ve never done anything to...earn all this. Or asked for it. It’s all been there,” she said. “I just didn’t know it. Kind of feels like people are just throwing it all at me...”

“Heard you’re asking folks to not address you as Princess too.”

She nodded, hunching her shoulders and making a face. “I don’t like it...”

“Oh?” he asked. “And why’s that?”

“I’m not a Princess.”

“Says who? Barnaby showed us the official record he’s kept all these years. He never took your mothers name out like he was supposed to. She’s still in the line of succession. The heir apparent. Till she’s officially crowned, that is and then she’d be Queen. Which makes you a Princess. Not sure how much Silvaaran succession laws are still applicable now. But that potentially makes you her heir.”

There was a sinking feeling in her belly and she pulled her knees up to her chest. “...what if I don’t want to be though?”

“I wouldn’t be so hasty to throw away that part of you, lass. A royal title does comes with a lot of hardships. But the trade off is you have the power to make changes. You could do some good with a title of Princess. Even just by being alive, you and your Mum and even your little brother, you’ve given a lot of folks in the tribes real hope.”

“Hope? For what?”

“A future. For them. The King took them in and gave them a safe place to call home. But he can’t give them back their Kingdom. They live and farm on granted land in a country not their own. If given the chance, I know a good many of them would go back to Silvaara. Try to rebuild. You and your family are a little sign to them that perhaps such a dream might be possible. Hope’s a powerful thing, Nenani. It can move mountains.”

She squinted at him. “What happened to no man being a mountain?”

He grinned at her. “Aye, still true. But you get three hundred or so folks behind you and give them the right inspiration, I promise you. That mountain will move.”

………………………………….

“Lift your arm just a bit more...there. Just like that.” A large finger gently nudged her bend arm into position. Her body was twisted at the hip with one foot forward and one arm up, clenched tight with an imaginary dagger. Rheil tapped her back leg. “Too far back. Scooch up a tad. That’s it.”

He stood back a step. “That’s your basic stance. No need to get any fancier than that as everything else is just a branch off from that. Like I said before, daggers are close quarter weapons. You have to get up into into your opponent’s face and look him in the eye as you gut him. Quite personal too. Most folks prefer a sword not just because it’s flashier, but yer a bit further away. Little less bloody.”

“What was that thing Jon did? Where he threw Clint over his shoulder?”

Rheil laughed at the gleeful way she spoke. “You’d need to be fighting someone a lot closer to your size to manage that one, I’m afraid.”

“And tell me captain,” said an all too familiar voice as they stepped through the doorway just behind them. “Just who do you imagine she’s going to be fighting?”

Rheil and Nenani both turned around and met the incensed eyes of Lolly, arms akimbo, and glaring at them both.

“I was just showing her some stances,” Rheil quickly assured the Matron. “Nothing ludicrous.”

But Lolly did not seem to calm any at his assurances.

“She...is...a lady, Rheil!” Lolly snapped as she closed the distance between them. “This is not an appropriate thing for her to be learning!”

“It was just stances,” Rheil repeated, though his tone was more gentle. “Basic form, Lolly.”

“The only thing she should be practicing is her magic and if not that, learning to do something more aligned to her station. Something safer. Like embroidery or water painting or...flower arranging!”

Nenani made a face. “Flower arranging?”

“Yes! Flower arranging,” Lolly told her with a deep frown. “You mother would have an apoplexy if she knew what you were getting up to.”

“I wasn’t hurting anything,” Nenani protested weakly.

“That’s not the point, Nenani,” Lolly said with an admonishing tone. “Do you not understand what it is we’re trying to do? What your mother and I are trying to prepare you for?”

The girl furrowed her brow at Lolly in confusion. “Prepare me for what?”

“Your debut at court,” she said firmly. “Your mother is already known to the Lords from before the war. This won’t be her official debut. It will be yours.”

“But why does that matter so much?” Nenani asked, her voice becoming heated. “It’s just a dinner!”

In that moment, Lolly looked very much like Farris as the ire built up in her expression. “Just a dinner? Nenani, it is a very big deal for someone to make their debut at court. For you and your future, it’s instrumental. Should rumors get around that the heir apparent of Silvaara is...learning battle techniques it could spoil the King’s whole endeavor!”

“What endeavor?” Nenani demanded, exasperated. She threw her hands up. “You haven’t told me anything! Just that I have to wear a really heavy dress and sit there and look pretty!”

Lolly put a hand to her face, appearing as though she’d been struck with a sudden headache. “We need the support of the Lords. And to do that, we must ensure we present to them a carefully crafted picture. Which mean, no combat lessons.”

Nenani let her arms drop to her sides and mumbled something uncharitable.

“I heard that,” Lolly warned before reaching out to her and plucking her up from the crate. Leveling an unimpressed glare towards Rheil, she said, “I trust I can depend on you not to encourage her, Rheil.”

The captain nodded and tossed an apologetic look to Nenani. “Sorry Princess. Looks like you’re going to have to settle for one less title to your name, after all.”

Lolly snorted. “Indeed.”

Nenani had fully expected Lolly to take her back to her room and follow through with the assertion the only things she should be doing is her daily magic lessons and...flower arranging. But much to her surprise, she walked passed the staircase that would have taken them up to the royal apartments and instead headed towards the servants’ corridor. Towards the kitchens.

She could hear the hustle and bustle of everyone at work long before Lolly stepped down into the kitchen. She was forced to dodge a scurrying footman as he ran back up the stairs carrying a tray loaded with food. As he passed, Nenani noticed the human portioned foods as well.

And plenty of it.

Her mother had been spending a large portion of her days with the King, but whatever they had been discussing was a mystery to her and for the most part, she had held no interest in it. But now she was beginning to have a nagging suspicion her person may be playing a significant role in those talks, but without the courtesy of being privy to them.

Abruptly, Yale jogged passed them with a quick, “Hey, Dumplin’, hey Lolly,” before joining Quinn near one of the work tables and helped him load finished raw pastries onto the peels and shoved them into the hot interior chambers of the ovens. Kol was at one of the other ovens, pulling finished ones out.

Lolly walked further into the kitchen and stood just outside the spice pantry’s green door, her free hand on her hip, toe tapping impatiently on the stop floor. Avery and Gjerk, who were at the hearth, looked on in confusion. When the door finally did open, Farris froze mid-step, a collection of parchment in one hand and a folded note in the other.

“Farris,” Lolly greeted the spice master in a deceptively calm voice.

“Lolly,” Farris replied, returning the greeting with a confused one as he eased passed her into the kitchen. He sat his papers down onto the table and began to add a few notes to the bottom of one.

Lolly walked alongside him and regarded him with a curt look. “Do you know where I found your ward just now, sir?”

“Not ‘a clue,” he said without pulling his attention from his current task. “But I’ll be bettin’ yer about to tell me, ain’t ye lass?”

“In the guards’ courtyard,” Lolly huffed. “With Rheil. He was teaching her fighting stances.”

“Oh?” he said with a laugh. “What ever th’ fuck fer?”

“Gods persevere me if I know.”

The kitchen master turned his head slightly to peer at Nenani, lips curled into an amused smile. “Lil’un?”

For her part, Nenani just shrugged. “...I was just curious.”

“Uh-huh. Curious,” Farris echoed dubiously. “Well, did ye learn anythin’ useful at least?”

“Farris! It’s entirely inappropriate!”

“Ah, yer over reactin’, lass,” he said, straightening his posture. “Rheil showin’ her where to stick her feet ain’t gonna make her suddenly wanna become a soldier and run off t’war. That’s just how lil’uns are when they’re her age. ‘Specially that one. Sticks her nose into everythin’.”

“It’s because of that dagger,” Lolly said flatly. “The one Nonna gave her.”

Farris regarded Lolly for a moment, seeming to only realize the degree of irritated that Lolly had worked herself into.

“That dagger also happens t’be part of her heritage,” Farris added pointedly.

Lolly paused and the muttered a low, “Well. Yes, I realize that, but...”

“Ye can’t blame her for wantin’ to know more about it, lass,” Farris said, turning to lean against the table’s edge and crossing his arms. “Remember, not but a few weeks ago we all thought she was an orphan. Now suddenly she has family she never knew she had and an entire new culture. Or what’s left of it. Might chafe yer sensibilities, but fer her, playin’ with knives is in her blood. Better she know how to do it so she don’t lob her damn fingers off, eh?”

Lolly glared at him. “You are far too comfortable with this, Farris.”

“Lolly,” Farris said with a sigh and eyeing her sternly. “If the worst that one gets up to is learning how to gut a fella with that dagger ‘a hers, I call that a success. And a whole lot less dangerous than the shit she’s been caught up in recently.”

“That’s not the point,” Lolly asserted. “She needs to start acting like a lady.”

Farris raised an eyebrow at her, then looked down at Nenani before returning his eye back to Lolly. “Just what do ye think she’s been all this time? A goat?”

“Don’t be dim, Farris,” she said. “You know what I mean.”

“She’s a lil’ girl. Just let her be.”

“She’ll be twelve in a few weeks,” Lolly said sternly, setting Nenani down onto the table. “And will have made her debut at court. Her title, status, and rank will be confirmed. And then she will have obligations and responsibilities and expectations. And then there’s the whole bloody matter of possible suitors...”

“Wait. What?” Farris growled. Throughout their conversation thus far, Farris had maintained a muted irritation with the occasional slip into amusement regarding the whole affair. But now he looked perfectly enraged. He glared at Lolly. “What in the seven hells do ye mean suitors? The lot of ye plannin’ to marry her off now? She’s a child fer fuck sake! I’ve got tea towels older than she is.”

To her credit, Lolly appeared as though she knew she had said too much was immediately began an attempt at backtracking. “No, we’re not. Nothing like that. It’s only...I just…” She sighed. “What I mean to say that…ugh. Never mind. I have things to do.”

With a twirl of her skirts, Lolly scampered back up the stairs, leaving a very confused Nenani and a very irritated Farris.

“The closer this dinner gets,” Nenani said to Farris with a look of apprehension. “The less I want to go...”

“Fuck, I don’t think I want ye to be goin’ neither,” he admitted.

“Can I hide down here?”

“I’ll clean out a cupboard fer ye t’ live in,” he said with a wry grin. From across the room, Quinn, Kol, and Yale were looking towards Farris.

“Did I just hear that right?” Quinn demanded.

“Are they really tryin’ to marry the Dumplin’ off?” Yale demanded incredulously. “What the fuck for?”

“She’s a babe!” Kol added.

“Besides,” Avery added. “Who’s there for her to even marry? All the Silvaaran nobles are dead or poor as mice.”

“Back to it, ye lot. Ain’t no one marryin’ no one off,” Farris growled and then scooped Nenani up. As he headed back into the spice pantry, he muttered angrily under his breath. “And the first bloody fucker they try and shove at ye, I’m breakin’ his damn legs.”

Nenani was not entirely sure if Farris was being facetious or he really would follow through with the threat.

#DUMPLING #g/t #g/t story #Giant/tiny #g/t fantasy story #Nenani #Rheil #Lolly #Farris

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elefseija · 4 years

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.Rós Fiáin.

A/N: First kiss anyone? I kinda love self-indulgent pieces, soooo have these two adorable dorks being lovey-dovey with all the propet turmoil 8D just an hint of angst! I guess I actually wrote not so much about them and it’s time to bring ALL THE CUTENESS. To the careful reader this could provide quite an insight into Aisling’s mind (eh). Thanks sis @thereluctantherosrose for helping me editing!!! ;; Uuh, the title means “wild rose” in Irish! First draft was Wilde Rose, a Faun song (German version of Irish folk song Siúil a Rún). Enjoy ☘️

. . ☘️ ☘️ ☘️ . .

The first snow was to fall soon, Aisling thought as she peeked from beneath her elbow covering her eyes. Clouds would hide the sun, a chilling breeze made the leaves whisper softly in the forest and fall on the dark green, damp musk. Her free hand was dipping in the crystalline, cold water, fingertips lazily grazing the surface, the sound of water lulling her as she hummed in tempo. That glen was her hidden place; that dry, big rock in the middle of the creek was her secret shelter. Thoughts and worries would not follow her in the forest, where the smell of musk and clear waters and dirt filled her lungs and cleared her mind. Sometimes, she just needed it. To forget what was filling her troubled mind, even just for a little while. To flee from all the stares (pity) people would cast at her, and the sweet words (morbid curiosity) everyone had for her, as if she were made of glass. (“How do you feel, Aisling?” “We want to help you, Aisling!” “What happened in the Vault, Aisling?” “Someone else will take care of this, Aisling!”)

A stick broke – a distorted note in her silent world. She wrinkled up her nose, as she softly groan, lifting her arm from its resting position on her forehead. Still, emerald eyes lingered in darkness, refusing to break this peaceful moment. «I said I did not w-» «Aisling…» She instantly opened her eyes at the sound of that voice; she sat, quickly, little droplets of water splashing on her skirt as she retreated her hand from the water. Very much in the flesh, he was right there, standing on the other side of the bank. She blinked a few times, before adjusting her messed collar and smoothing her shirt, eyes in a panic to where her shoes and stockings were (again, on the other side of the bank). «Ah, I’m so sorry, Barnaby! I... I thought you were someone else…» «Merula told me you could be hiding here.» The lightest, most annoyed huff from her nose, she averted her gaze from his questioning eyes. (Like a sting, but she felt no pain, just… uncomfortable under his stare.) «Of course she did.» A shade of harshness in her voice she was not used to. A huff she could not restrain herself as she swung her legs, bare feet in cold water. (She ignored the shivers.) «I suppose she didn’t tell you I almost struck her with a spell.» «That she said too.» A softer tone, an uncertain hint of a chuckle from his throat: his voice had Aisling bite her lips and clench her fists in frustration – she lowered her gaze. She fought the urge to chest run to him, hide in his arms, just hold him tightly. And fought the inner instinct of barking a “leave me alone” – not to him, she just couldn’t do it. (He clearly deserved a better girlfriend, didn’t he?) «I’m worried, Aisling.» Her chest heaved in a deep sigh, filling her nose with fresh cold air. (First Bill, then Barnaby.) She could not help but bite her lower lip. (How many people was she going to hurt and disappoint?) «Don’t need to do that, Barnaby.» She could not hide it behind her cold façade: the slightest tremble in her voice had Barnaby step closer to the riverbank. (Perhaps she had to just end it as soon as possible.)

Aisling heard his steps and her heart… … Just started beating faster. «Ash.» Sweet Barnaby. «Please.» Gentle Barnaby. «I…» Air pushed forcefully from her lungs, she inspired again. «I just need...» Weakly, she lied again on that lonely rock in the middle of the streaming water. «… to be alone for some time. Clear my mind.» «You know I would never force you to speak…» His eyes. His wonderful eyes – Aisling could feel them on her, could perfectly picture the fond look, the painful sadness, scorching like fire. It hurt her, as she whispered a soft «I know.» «And you know I’ll wait for as long as you need.» A meaning too deep and terrifying to face and understand: was he really going to stay? Would she allow it? Was she going to push him away, as she had done with Bill? «I know.» And her mind screamed “yes, stay”. Her eyes were pleading, as her gaze mirrored in his. Her hands ready to push her on her feet and go to him.

But he was faster. He had always been faster than her. (Most precious Barnaby.) Ready to step in the water, with no care for his shoes or clothes. «No, Barnaby, don’t! It’s freezing cold!» (The one who talked – her feet bare, as her legs. She frantically rushed, almost jumped in the creek, reached for the bank as quickly as she could.) «Wait!»

At first, he gripped her forearm: Aisling almost lost her balance, a yelp stuck in her throat – a bunch of poor, forgotten clovers fell from her loosened braid into the water, she lowered her gaze as she frowned, following them flowing far from her feet with a displeased “ow”, her hand stretched out as she tried to reach for them, in vain. Barnaby was quick to pull her against him: he cupped her face, gently yet firmly – he smelled like rain and forest and the usual hint of sandalwood, thought the Irish girl unconsciously, as she just looked into his eyes once again. Yet, Aisling did not have time to understand if she was now feeling so warm because of his skin or because of her blushing cheeks. She was not allowed to think. Barnaby was a creature of instinct and emotions – he could not lie to his heart. His lips claimed hers so softly, and they felt pleasantly warm against hers. They muffled her sudden gasp. There was uncertainty, and yet there was impatience Barnaby hid deep within, as if he had waited far too long for this moment. Still, his hold on her was as light as feathers, willing to let her go against his own desire. (Caring, selfless Barnaby.) Her hands gripped his arms, as a natural reaction, trying to pull him closer. (Just a word, and he would pull away from her, with a sad smile – she could not let him go, for his impatience was her own.) She followed her instinct too, Barnaby’s lead. No need to rush, no desire to end it, as Aisling sighed, her lips parting – she tried to stand on her tiptoes. (He smiled – she could feel his lips moving against hers, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.) Oh, it was not her first kiss but… it felt entirely different. Like everything and nothing at the same time: confusing, painful, heartbreaking yet so addicting and delicate and sweet and loving. Closer, closer, could they even be closer? She softly whimpered as her grip on his arm grew tighter. All she could feel was Barnaby, trapping her and giving her no escape, holding her with such sweetness she was so sure she was going to melt under his touch, the slow rhythm of his thumbs pressing her colder skin in longing caresses. She held onto him desperately, pleading him to not go, to keep holding her like that. (Oh, how weak she was feeling now. And that fluttering feeling in her stomach.) It was oh-so-soothing, that feeling: head so light with dizziness, warmth spreading on her cheeks, her trembling fingers impatiently grasping at the fabric of Barnaby’s sweater, and Barnaby’s hands snaking through her messy corvine locks, pulling her so lightly against him once again. They were there. He was there. Holding her so tightly yet with such tenderness. She was there. Grasping with such greed and need. She felt… alive. Not floating on a cloud or high up in the sky, but there, in that glen, the freezing water still flowing silently and making her shiver, the wind gently whispering through the leaves – and the frenzied pounding of her heart in her ribcage as the kiss grew more intense (left her breathless), and her hands gripped his shoulders (otherwise, she knew she was going to fall).

His thumbs were still lovingly caressing her cheeks, when the need of oxygen pulled them apart. Lids still closed, Aisling lingered in the warmth and the ever so light scent of Barnaby. He rested his forehead against her, softly, basking in each other’s embrace, their heavy breathing. The ghost of a smile on her still parted lips: Barnaby’s fingertips could not help but touch them with utmost care. (He leaned in just a little, searching for her shy, elusive gaze.) And then their stares just met.

«Don’t... don’t let me go.» Aisling broke the silence: his hands were now on her shoulders, as hers were now resting on his chest. (His heart was beating as fast as hers – and it felt wonderful, feeling it under her fingertips. Knowing this was all for her.)

A thunderous rumble in the distance had her jolt in his arms – Barnaby pressed his lips against hers once again before she could even glance back. (“I’m here.” She heard in her mind.)

#barnaby lee #aisling baskerville #jacob's sibling #barnaby lee x mc #barnaby lee x aisling baskerville #‹ elef writes ›

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carewyncromwell · 4 years

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Hi, everybody! So the Adventures in Curse-breaking side quest was...absolutely wonderful. The prize is fantastic -- the animation of the dragons is awesome -- the new preserve location and the interior of the tent have the most wonderful ambient music -- and it features love for Charlie and Bill, who as most of you know are two of my favorites! I might’ve switched out Penny with Liz (given that, like Barnaby, she’s so into magical creatures and we could use more material for her in the game), but even with that nitpick, I think this quest may be one of my favorites so far, right up there with Chiara and Talbott’s friendship quests.

It is, however, a very dialogue-heavy quest with a good chunk of filler in between the awesome stuff, and writing full roleplaying posts for the entire thing would take up a LOT of time. So just like with my Meet the Malfoys quest post, I’ll be writing this in a more condensed, fic-like format. Because there’s so much more material to work with compared to the Malfoy quest, however, this post will be broken up into four parts all tagged “Adventures in Curse-Breaking”, complete with screenshots and gifs from the game, as we follow my MC Carewyn Cromwell, her honorary brothers Bill and Charlie, Barnaby, Merula, and Penny to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary!

Hope you enjoy! xoxo

Bill’s second meet-up with the sixth years ended up being more of a question-and-answer session about Cursebreaking and Defense Against the Dark Arts in general rather than a set lesson. Charlie had half-jokingly whispered in Carewyn’s ear that it was likely Bill was still in the process of drawing up lesson plans, and although Carewyn thought there was a good chance of it, she didn’t think Bill opening the floor for questions was a bad idea. After all, Merula had expressed interest in being a Cursebreaker, and any anti-Dark Arts information would be helpful to a future Auror like Tonks. (Carewyn once again thought of trying to coax Talbott to join Bill’s sessions too. She knew he preferred to “fly solo,” but she wanted him to become an Auror just as much as he himself wanted it!)

It was only toward the end of their session that Bill -- mostly to poke at Charlie for getting distracted whispering to Carewyn -- brought up his next mission, which his boss Griphook had said would involve dragons.

Of course Charlie’s ears had perked up like a puppy’s at the mention of dragons, and he immediately was interested in accompanying Bill on his mission. The eldest Weasley son, however, turned Charlie down, clearly regretting that he’d brought it up at all. He quickly dismissed the sixth years and excused himself from the classroom, but Charlie wasn’t having it. Agreeing that Bill could use some help if he had to deal with a bunch of dragons, Carewyn quickly changed clothes and accompanied her unofficial twin to Diagon Alley.

Carewyn hadn’t ever been to Gringotts without her mother before. The wizarding bank had always felt so massive to her, not just for its mile-high, vaulted ceilings, but in how the voices of the goblin tellers and witches and wizards in front of the counters echoed seemingly endlessly up toward the ceiling. Despite the ethereal light emanating off the lanterns on every desk and the sparkling diamond chandeliers overheard, the chamber still never felt completely lit. Shadows clung to every pillar and window frame, and the light of the lanterns pooled off the dark, patterned marble pillars, making them resemble rippling, murky green water as you walked past them.

Bill was very surprised to see the two gingers there. He’d tried to reproach them for ambushing him at work, which made Carewyn feel a bit guilty -- Charlie, however, felt no shame at all.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have run off in the middle of a conversation like that,” he’d said dryly. “Then we wouldn’t have had to chase after you.”

Carewyn offered Bill a kinder look. “I know you’re working, Bill -- but if your next assignment involves dragons, you know we can help.”

Bill’s boss, Griphook, took in the exchange with dry interest. Keeping a beady eye on both Carewyn and Charlie, he explained the mission more clearly to Bill. The goal was to recover a golden egg created by the goblin Urguff the Unwary and stolen by a dragon that mistook it for one of her own and was now suspected to have settled in the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. The goblin then encouraged Bill that if “these two humans” could assist him in researching dragons, then it might be wise to accept their offer of help. Bill agreed, and the three gingers met at the Hog’s Head to research the various breeds of dragons one might encounter at the Romanian Sanctuary. Bill was stubborn, however, in keeping their meeting focused solely on research.

“I appreciate you helping me study up on dragons,” he’d said firmly, “but I’m sorry, I’m not taking you on my mission.”

Carewyn would’ve respected Bill’s feelings on the matter, given that this was his job and he deserved to do it his own way...but she knew how much Charlie wanted to go with him, and admittedly she was worried for Bill’s safety, going to a preserve full of dragons all by himself. Charlie himself was just as bullheaded as Bill was, but in the opposite direction.

“If you’re going to that sanctuary, then I’m going with you -- no arguments,” he’d shot back.

Seeing the impasse the two brothers were at, Carewyn immediately moved into “compromise” mode. Bill had already said that he’d have to cancel one of his sessions at Hogwarts in order to complete this mission, and facing so many dragons alone would be way too dangerous, even for a full-grown wizard...so why not kill two birds with one stone by having Charlie, her, and a few other sixth-year students come with Bill to help him find the egg? That way, if Bill needed to stun a dragon at any point, there would be at least two other people shooting Stunning Spells with him.

“Dragons can only be taken down with multiple Stunning spells,” Carewyn reminded him. “You wouldn’t be able to take one down on your own, if you got cornered. I only got lucky with the one in the Vault -- that one was already in bad shape before I faced it. These dragons...they’re in a preserve. They’ll have been treated well. And because they’re protected by Wizarding Law, you probably wouldn’t be allowed to use any spells that could really hurt them, like the Conjunctivitis Curse. Half the reason the dragon in the Vault didn’t kill me was because it couldn’t see me.”

Bill clearly hated how much sense Carewyn was making. His protective big brother instincts fought with his interest in completing his mission, but at long last, he relented.

Carewyn and Charlie got Barnaby, Penny, and Merula on board, and the group visited Hagrid to borrow his camping tent and get some general camping advice and Kettleburn to get some instruction on dragon safety. That Friday, the five sixth-years gathered at the Training Grounds to meet Bill.

It had been so eerie to meet Bill, Charlie, and Merula at the Training Grounds so they could leave Hogwarts via Portkey. For a second, Carewyn felt her shoulders tensing up and her blood freezing as if she was going back into the Portrait Vault. It was only seeing Barnaby and Penny’s faces instead of Rakepick and Ben’s that made her feel the least bit grounded again, even as she took hold of the Portkey and the six of them were flung off their feet and spun around faster and faster and faster --

When they arrived at their destination, Carewyn felt her breath still in her throat.

There were massive trees as far as the eye could see -- dramatic cliffs and mountains dotted the horizon -- the air was so fresh and light, dusted with the scent of pine and burnt oak -- and then overhead, soaring with their wings wide right over them, were dozens of massive, majestic dragons.

It was beautiful.

Carewyn grinned from ear to ear seeing how happy Charlie was. She’d always thought dragons were cool, but her admiration of the creatures had nothing on what her fellow Fireball thought of them. Carewyn had always loved listening to her friends talk about their greatest passions, and Charlie was no exception.

It was quickly decided that it would be best to set up camp and start searching for the golden egg the next morning. As safe as Carewyn thought they’d be with the defensive magical wards she’d put up, she and Bill both thought that searching a dragon preserve at night was still riskier than it was probably worth. Soon the group had set up camp and -- on Barnaby’s suggestion -- started roasting marshmallows over a roaring campfire.

Barnaby immediately proposed sharing scary stories. Penny was reluctant; Carewyn herself didn’t love being scared herself and she didn’t want to upset Penny, but she reassured the blond Hufflepuff all the same.

“Sometimes it’s fun to be a little scared -- especially when you know those things aren’t real and can’t hurt you,” Carewyn had told her. “I mean, you’re with your friends. You know we wouldn’t let anything hurt you.”

Merula gave a sharp bark of a laugh.

Her voice was noticeably softer than normal, which startled Carewyn. The Slytherin Prefect hadn’t really included Merula in her mind when she’d said that, but...the look on Merula’s face made Carewyn feel almost guilty that she hadn’t. She was very glad that Barnaby started right into his scary story about the Bloody Broom.

Carewyn was actually getting really into Barnaby’s story before the roar of a dragon flying a mere four feet over their heads made the entire group duck, even as the defensive wards around the camp effectively kept the dragon’s tail or claws from touching them.

“Let’s go inside,” Carewyn said quickly, trying to will down her own heart rate as she looked over her companions’ identical white faces.

To Be Continued...

#adventures in cursebreaking #carewyn cromwell #jacob's sibling #hphm #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley #bill weasley #merula snyde #barnaby lee #penny haywood #griphook #dragons #gifs #gameplay #roleplaying #my writing

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queenofmoons67 · 4 years

Text

something wild (calls you home)

Fandom: Tiger and Bunny

Summary: When Kotetsu goes missing, the other heroes lose themselves searching for him, while Kotetsu himself tries to tell them he’s the dog Bunny took in.

Relationships: Kotetsu & Barnaby; Kotetsu & Everyone

Word Count: 2689

Hey everyone! I've been working on this fic for months now, and I'm proud to say that I finally finished it! It comes in at over 13k words, and five chapters. I'll be posting one every Wednesday!

Each chapter is told from the point of view of Kotetsu and one other person, who will be named in the chapter title.

Kotetsu is turned into a kai-ken, which is a dog breed famous for their tiger stripes!

Thanks as always to my beta @bookdancerfics, for their encouragement and editing, and for getting me into Tiger and Bunny in the first place.

I do not own Tiger and Bunny, and the fic title comes from Lindsey Stirling’s song “Something Wild.”

Chapter 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5: Kotetsu and Barnaby

Kotetsu woke up with a splitting headache, wondering what on earth Antonio had let him drink the night before. Except… Kotetsu furrowed his brow in thought. He hadn’t been drinking. He had gone for a walk and heard—screaming? Or something similar. Either way, he definitely remembered the spandex of his mask under his fingers, the soft press of it against his face. He had put it on for something, and then… Kotetsu groaned. A giant, aching blank.

At least he was relatively safe, though. Light pierced his head even through his closed eyelids, so he was outside somewhere, not held captive in a warehouse. The main question was where, and was he injured enough that he would need to call a taxi. All of his bones ached, and his muscles felt like someone had treated them like a rubber band.

Opening his eyes, Kotetsu stared up the brick wall of an alley into a clear gray-blue sky. Someone’s white-leafed plant waved gently on a breeze, and—

Kotetsu blinked. Still white-leafed. He blinked again. Still white-leafed, and even for an alley in the city, this area was remarkably void of almost any colors. Kotetsu slammed his eyes closed tightly enough that he saw sparks, held them like that for a solid thirty seconds, and opened them again.

The plant still had white leaves. Why did the plant have white leaves?! Determined to figure out what was going on, Kotetsu tried to stand up, only to stumble back down when his legs didn’t move quite right. They were shorter than he was used to, bending in a way they weren’t supposed to, and—and there were four of them?

Kotetsu started whining in panic, a high-pitched noise that should not be coming out of his throat and turned into a bark of disbelief.

Kotetsu decided to blame that panic for the fact it took him a minute to realize he had just barked. Like a dog.

Kotetsu twisted where he sat, not trusting his legs at the moment, but determined to get a full picture of what his body looked like.

His body twisted a lot more than he was used to. He was able to scramble around enough that his eyes faced his back—his fur-covered, hotdog-shaped, tail-attached back. Kotetsu whined again, and the tail tucked itself into his side, whip-thin and shivering.

What was he supposed to do now?

Barnaby wandered the streets staring at his phone. He had texted Kotetsu two hours before, wondering if the older man wanted to meet up for a movie or something, only to get nothing in return. If it was any other person, he wouldn’t worry, but this was Kotetsu. As a hero and a father, the man was religious in always having his phone on his person, volume on the ringer turned all the way up. And every text got an immediate response. Always. Even if it was just a thumbs up. Barnaby had asked why once, because it bordered on excessive, and Kotetsu had rubbed his head sheepishly.

“I can’t be there for Kaede in person most of the time,” he explained. “But I can be there virtually. If my daughter at least knows that I listen to her, that I hear her—I hope that she’ll come to me when she really needs that. But it kind of carried over into my texting with other people, too.”

Barnaby had snorted a “kind of?” He had grinned to ease the blow, and tucked the little piece of Kotetsu into his head. Now, he kind of wished he hadn’t.

“It’s just two hours,” he muttered, glancing at the clock on his phone, down at the lack of new texts, and then up at the building before him—Kotetsu’s apartment.

“It’s just two hours,” he told himself, climbing the stairs. “Everyone else would tell you not to worry. And they’d be right.”

“It’s just two hours,” he muttered, fishing the extra key Kotetsu had given him out of his pocket.

“It’s just two hours,” he thought to himself, staring around at an empty apartment. Dirty dishes were stacked in the sink, and examining them showed traces of an old dinner—but not that old. Probably from that night. And Kotetsu’s favorite shoes and jacket weren’t at the door, and there had been no sign of a break in.

“He probably went for a walk,” Barnaby said aloud. His voice echoed in the quiet, and with Kotetsu’s phone gone with the shoes and jacket, it did nothing to convince him his partner was alright. Barnaby settled on the couch. When Kotetsu came in, he would be waiting.

Barnaby jerked awake to the sound of the neighbors yelling next door. Momentarily confused as to why his glasses were still on, he glanced around and stilled as his memory came back—but Kotetsu obviously hadn’t. The tv he’d turned on after an hour was still on, the doorway shut and empty. And most telling was his glasses. He didn’t know why Kotetsu had picked the habit up, but the man tended to take them off and put them on the nearest flat surface for him when he fell asleep first.

Barnaby rubbed sleep from his eyes, then rushed for the door. There was no need for coffee; he was wide awake already.

Barnaby didn’t return to his own home till late that night. He and the other heroes, officially given permission to worry after Kotetsu didn’t show up and Barnaby told them about the previous night, had spent the day split between combing the streets, contacting anyone who might know where their coworker was, and taking care of regular hero work. When it neared midnight, and almost sixteen full hours of work, Agnes had charged in and barked that they would start separating the search for Wild Tiger into shifts. She would take shift one. Everyone else was sent home.

Staring up at his own building and remembering how he had done the same at Kotetsu’s the night before, Barnaby wondered why he had even bothered coming this far. He was going to spend the night on the streets, no matter what Agnes said—though he supposed he could use some fuel first. With that in mind, Barnaby took the elevator up, and came to a sudden halt at his own front door. Curled up, sound asleep and firmly blocking his way, was a medium-sized orange and black dog.

Kotetsu woke to a hand nudging his shoulder, first softly, then harder. “Mmm,” he groaned. “Okaa-san, just a bit longer…”

“Dog,” a familiar voice ordered. “You have to get up.”

“Buuuny-chan,” Kotetsu whined. “‘M not a dog… ‘m a Wild Tiger… and what are you… doing here?” He trailed off as he opened his eyes to a black, white, and yellow Bunny staring down at him. “You look horrible!” He exclaimed. “Huge bags, Bunny, huge, and, and why do you look like you’re in an old movie? What have you been doing?!”

He tried to scramble up, needing to poke and prod his partner for any hidden injuries, only for his legs to slip out from under him. He fell to the floor with a yelp, and only a quick hand from Bunny kept his head from smacking into the floor.

“Careful, dog!” Bunny cried. “Honestly, I have enough going on without worrying about you, too.”

Kotetsu didn’t answer him. The fall from too many legs, the repeated “dog” calls from Bunny, and his own sudden colorblindness had all combined into one huge reminder that, oh yeah, the Tiger had been turned into a dog.

The panic startled another whine out of him, and he stared up at his partner with wide eyes, tail softly slapping the ground behind him. He had barely managed to figure out his legs enough to drag himself to Bunny’s, only for his partner to not show up for hours and hours. But he was here now. Bunny was here now, and they would figure something out together.

Kotetsu whined, then tried to get his legs to work again. They had gotten him here, right? They could work again, and then—

“Whoa, there, dog!” Bunny warned. The man laid a hand on his shoulder, pressing down gently but firmly. “Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

Kotetsu barked. Of course he did, but—

“Then take it slow.” Bunny stared down at him sternly, and Kotetsu huffed. Well. He supposed he could do that much.

Barnaby watched for a second, eyes narrowed, as the dog tried to struggle to his feet before caving and reaching to help. One arm around the dog’s chest, the other under his butt, lift, and—

“Come on,” he coaxed, bending his wrist awkwardly to pat the dog’s shoulder the best he could. “Put your legs down. I can’t hold you forever. That’s it, there we go.”

When he was sure the dog was holding his own weight, Barnaby took his arms away and crouched down on his heels.

“Are you injured?” He muttered, peering at the dog’s legs and petting him. “I don’t feel any hot spots… Sore, maybe?” He looked to the dog’s head, and found him staring back with wide eyes. “Though I don’t know why I expect you to know… or answer me,” he realized with a sigh. The heroes had split up to cover as much ground as possible, only really talking when necessary they were so distracted with Kotetsu’s disappearance. Considering Barnaby had grown used to the man’s constant chatter…

Something cold nudged his arm, and Barnaby looked up to find the dog looking up at him. The dog barked.

Barnaby let his hand come up to rub at the dog’s ears, closing his eyes. “You’re not Kotetsu,” he murmured. “No matter how much I wish you were.”

The dog barked again.

“But I am,” Kotetsu barked. “Bunny! Bunny it’s me!” He wagged his tail as fast as he could, till he had worked up the full body wiggles he had seen real dogs do, trying to create a giant “look at me” sign. “Bunny! Bunny! Bunnnnny!”

Bunny managed to crack a small smile. “At least you’re feeling better,” he noted. “And probably not injured after all, moving like that. Are you ready to come inside?”

“I’d feel a lot better if you realized the dog with tiger stripes was Wild Tiger,” Kotetsu replied.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bunny stood, back cracking—seriously, what had his partner been doing all day—and opened his apartment door before standing to the side.

Instead of moving, though, Kotetsu eyed the suddenly long way between himself and the door. “Uh… Bunny-chan? I don’t think I can walk that.”

“Come on, dog.” Bunny made clicking noises with his tongue, and waved a hand.

“Seriously, Bunny?” Kotetsu muttered. Though he supposed he had to try walking again sometime… He took a step forward, then quickly took another one when the first threatened to send him to the ground. And then another, because that was his paw almost right out from under him, and by the time Kotetsu passed through the door he was running full speed ahead for Bunny’s arm chair.

In hindsight, maybe Kotetsu should have realized that barely being able to walk also meant jumping was out of the question. As it was, Kotetsu tried to gather his legs under him, failed, and scrabbled at the floor till he finally managed to turn and slide, heavy and fast, into the side of the chair. Panting, Kotetsu flopped to the floor and prepared for Bunny’s laughter.

None came.

After taking a minute to regain his proper breathing skills, Kotetsu lifted his head and peered across the room. He almost lost those skills again. Bunny stared back at him, leaning against a closed door, with tears in his eyes. Sniffing, the man took off his glasses to wipe his eyes before replacing them and moving toward Kotetsu.

“Kotetsu would love you,” Bunny sighed.

“Eh?” Kotetsu blinked.

Bunny slumped into the chair, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. His eyes stared right into Kotetsu’s, green and piercing. Kotetsu couldn’t help but sit up straight, forcing his front legs to hold his weight and bring his head closer to Bunny’s level.

“Bunny?”

“We couldn’t find him,” Bunny whispered. “We spent the entire day looking for Kotetsu, and we couldn’t find him. I should still be out there, but—” Bunny’s hand curled into a fist “—but I need sleep and a break. And now you. I can’t just leave you here when you need help. He wouldn’t want that. Even when you’re just a dog.” Bunny bowed his head into his clenched fist, his voice breaking on the last word, and Kotetsu’s heart broke with it.

Oh. That was—of course they had looked for him. He had been exhausted by the time he made it to the apartment, who knew how long it took him to get there, let alone how long he had slept undisturbed on the doorstep. And his coworkers—his friends—his family had spent that time looking for him, stressed out of their minds.

Kotetsu whined, horrified he hadn’t tried to find them. Nevermind that his legs still didn’t work properly, or that Bunny hadn’t even recognized him yet—he should have done something.

“Bunny,” he whined, and nosed at his partner’s hands. “Bunny, look at me. It’s not your fault.”

Bunny raised his head, and Kotetsu rested his head on his partner’s hands, gazing up at him with eyes that, he hoped, expressed how much he cared for Bunny.

Bunny smiled softly—achingly—just one corner of his mouth lifted, the other frozen stiff. “You have to belong to someone, dog,” he said, shifting his hands so Kotetsu’s head rested on just one, the other lifting to a spot just behind his ear and scratching. “You’re too well-behaved otherwise—well, minus the attack on my chair.” He snorted, but his hand kept scratching, and Kotetsu kept his head there. It was a little weird, but if it was what his partner needed at the moment… if it was what he needed, Bunny could pet him all he wanted.

And ok, Kotetsu could see why real dogs liked it.

As much as Barnaby thought the dog probably needed to rest, he also wasn’t about to leave the dog in his home unattended. It was as much about the health of the dog as it was the safety of his home. He still wasn’t completely convinced the dog wasn’t injured, so he’d rather have him where Barnaby could keep an eye on him.

Though of course that was easier said than done. After granting himself a half hour to cleaning up, a half hour to food, and another half hour to sleep, Barnaby tried to coax the dog to the door. Instead, the dog rolled over on the floor and pointedly closed his eyes.

“Dog,” Barnaby called, toe tapping a bit in annoyance. “Now isn’t the time for sleep.”

The dog’s tail thumped once, and Barnaby couldn’t help but imagine a stern “yes it is.”

Barnaby’s toe tapping intensified. “I need to look for Kotetsu, dog. And I’m not about to wait till morning.”

The dog rolled over again, looking up at him with wide brown eyes, and Barnaby’s shoulders released tension he hadn’t realized they’d had. Walking over, he knelt next to the dog and rested a hand on its side.

Lowering his head to make eye contact again, he whispered, “It’s important, dog.”

The dog’s eyebrows shuttered together before relaxing again, and Barnaby sighed. Somehow, it felt like he was having an argument with an actual person.

“I’ll call a friend to join me, and you can get dinner,” he promised.

The dog barked, jowls open and smiling, before fighting to get his legs under him again. Smiling back, Barnaby steadied his shoulders before climbing to his own feet.

“Still a bit wobbly, huh, dog?” he asked. The dog’s shoulder leaned against his upper calf as they walked together, step by step, out the door to the elevator.

Next Up: Kotetsu and Nathan. Bunny betrays Kotetsu by sticking one of Kotetsu’s own stinky socks in his nose. Ew, Bunny!

Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! If you did, please leave a comment!

And if you missed it up top: This will be updated every Wednesday!

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hphm-etched-engraved-everlasting · 4 years

Text

3. Clara

Author’s Note/Table of Contents

"No one followed you here, did they?"

Those were the first words he spoke to me the minute I sat at his table in the Hog's Head Inn, early the next morning. No hello, no I'm surprised you're still here--just a raised eyebrow and scowl that was hard to decipher.

Ever since Alastor Moody Disapparated me from the surprise graduation party we held for Bill in the Three Broomsticks a few months back, I always thought he was a little paranoid. I figured it came with the fact that he was a celebrated Auror, as Tonks had mentioned the night before--he always had to be on the lookout for any dark wizards, and there were more of them now with Rakepick's betrayal. Still, to have them stroll around the wizarding world undetected? Was that really possible?

No wonder he'd wanted me to meet with him the minute he managed to lose another enemy's trail. He could only stay for so long before something else happened.

"No, I don't think so." I glanced around uncertainly around the Inn, fists clenching at the mere thought of a known enemy bursting through the door.

"And you didn't tell anyone you were coming to meet me...?" Moody asked me then.

"Only Rowan," I said stiffly.

"Rowan!" Moody's jaw dropped when he heard of it, his eyes widening--er, rather, his normal eye widened while his other brilliant blue eyeball whizzed in his makeshift socket. "Who's Rowan?"

"Rowan Khanna. A friend at Hogwarts," I responded.

That, at least, was true. After Dumbledore's speech, Rowan and I couldn't help but wonder what Dumbledore meant when he said he wanted to let the authorities handle Rakepick and the Cursed Vaults. It had to mean that word about my disappearance had leaked out somehow.

"I'm sure it got back to Dumbledore that Mad-Eye Moody sought me out."

"Mr. Moody, you Disapparated me out of a party in front of all my friends," I told him carefully, placing my trembling hands on the table. "It wasn't exactly a secret."

"Fair enough," Moody said with a shrug. "And call me Mad-Eye. Enough others do."

Not like I didn't know that Mad-Eye didn't have a nickname beforehand, but if he wanted me to address him as such, why not? After all, he did notice that I was wearing a similar outfit to his today--a tan overcoat with a navy blue zip-up sweater inside, belts criss-crossing every which way near my waist, and a pair of navy blue pants and boots to match. Perhaps it was out of respect for those little details. Or it was so he could move the conversation along a lot faster.

"The information I told you, though--you kept that a secret, I hope?" Moody asked me then.

"Yes. You swore me to it," I responded. "That doesn't mean my friends haven't been asking questions, though. In fact, I have some questions, too."

"Really?" Moody didn't seem surprised at that at all. He nodded and took a long sip from a flask attached to his hip, wiping his mouth with his sleeve after. "We've got time for one."

One question? Just one? I've got enough inquiries in mind to last me an entire lifetime--inquiries that not even my most trusted friends could help me figure out. But then again, I didn't know what Mad-Eye Moody already knew in regards to my history, my family's history, my adversaries, and anything that had to do with the Cursed Vaults. I didn't even know if I could trust him yet, either.

"I'd like to know...who do we have in common?" I eventually asked him.

"Well, your Headmaster is one of my closest friends," Moody replied gruffly. "Albus Dumbledore and I fought many battles together during the Wizarding War. And I know the Weasley family, of course--I suppose Arthur didn't mention it."

I figured that he'd work with anyone who'd help further his own cause--anyone trustworthy for that matter. Everyone would.

"And I also worked with your parents," Moody told me as well. "Nice people they are, your mum and dad. Sometimes a little too high-strung--even more than me."

That sounded like my parents, alright.

"So why had you come looking for me?" I questioned. I know he only said one question only, but I had to satisfy my curiosity if it meant reaching the end goal sooner--even if it came with haunting consequences.

"That's a second question," Moody barked. "Just told you we only had time for one. Besides, you never know who around us is listening in."

"Who would be listening, though? Why are you so paranoid?"

"That's a third and fourth question now, lass! Has anyone ever told you that you don't listen?"

Countless times, really. If only Mad-Eye really knew about my history at Hogwarts, he'd know that I was probably more a rebel than I was a star pupil. I automatically braced myself for a possible probe into my brain--what if he was a Legilimens?--but that never came.

"I better go over again what I told you about 'R' before the summer holidays," Moody finally decided. "Then I'll tell you my plans for you."

My stomach was grumbling now in protest, and that was when I knew that there was really no getting out of this meeting in hopes of getting breakfast on time before my first set of classes. The sun was already rising beyond the glaring crimson rays of light over the black horizon--with the glorious oranges and yellows adding onto the canvas of the morning came uncertainty at its sheerest, plaguing the minds of many. Typical students would wonder what interesting things today would bring--between classes, friendships, and anything else that they'd worry about.

Meanwhile, I'd wonder how far into a trap I was walking into.

As Mad-Eye pulled up his chair, we began our intensive review into what he knew about 'R'--and what he told me before the summer. It was information I couldn't tell my friends, and I also couldn't find it in me to tell my sister about 'R', either. Though she asked many questions about 'R', I could only shake my head. It wasn't out of fear that she'd betray me. She's still so young, so innocent. I couldn't let her fall into Rakepick's hands and leave her scarred for life. She already had so much to worry about, any more information could potentially break her.

"One thing's for certain," Moody eventually said. "The race to the final Cursed Vault is on. Whatever's inside the vault is powerful--a cabal as villainous and dangerous as 'R' can't get to it first. And while Patricia Rakepick is only a minor player in 'R', she's still a major threat. She may not have unlocked the secrets of the Buried Vault, but she has the resources of 'R' behind her." He took another swig from his hip flask. "There's a good chance Rakepick could be the first to find the final vault."

What leads did she even have, though? I had a Merperson Trident and a coral key. If 'R' had more leads that proved more useful, then I'd have to be prepared for the ultimate showdown. It would be almost like I've gotten half the map she had a full image of, and she'd have the better chance of getting the glory while I'd be left in the shadows. Even if these resources were not anywhere close to helpful, I couldn't let myself slack off and hope that something in their plan goes horribly wrong. Fate wouldn't always stay on my side for long.

"For so long, I thought 'R' was an actual person, not a group of evil wizards and witches," I mused. "I suppose there were clues..."

"And my understanding is you have clues...to the vault's location."

Ah, so Moody definitely wanted to check into my progress. How much could I bring myself to tell, though?

"Yes, a trident and a coral key," I told him with a nod. "So the vault could be underwater."

Moody grunted in understanding. "I see. While I travel the world trying to take down 'R', I'll be counting on you, Curse-Breaker, to keep searching for it."

"Search for the vault?" I faltered. "But I have to search for my brother...who is searching for Rakepick..."

"All roads lead to the Cursed Vault," Moody said. "Find the vault, and I bet you'll find your brother, too. You, me, Rakepick, Jacob...we're all after the same thing: getting to the Cursed Vault first."

To think that I was in a separate party from my own brother was enough for me to feel doubt's whip sting my heart, but I nodded again.

"I'll come to you whenever I'm able, to keep you posted on my findings...and to prepare you with the knowledge and lessons you'll need to protect yourself and your friends," Moody eventually told me with a final nod.

"Good. I'll need help to protect my friends," I accepted, fists clenching once more. "Especially Ben and Merula, after that last vault. I still haven't seen them. I need to get back to Hogwarts and find them."

With a final wave to Moody and Aberforth Dumbledore, who looked genuinely disappointed I did not stay behind to at least consider purchasing one of his drinks, I departed from the goat-stenched inn and trudged back to Hogwarts.

As I walked through the streets and up the hill, I felt the hollow pang resonate through my heart again, threatening to make me collapse. Regardless of how we were divided, everyone was working towards the same goal, and all for different reasons--find the last Cursed Vault and use whatever was in there to fulfill our deepest desires. It was almost like I had been singled out now, without any allies behind me. What did everyone else think about my supposedly endless quest to find all the Cursed Vaults now?

Would they still care about my endeavours now that I was working alone, almost as a free agent without Rakepick lording over me, or would they wish that they could just move on with their lives and not worry about me anymore?

They wouldn't think of leaving me alone, would they, now that the finale was so close? After all, this last moment was the most crucial one. I had already lost one ally because he was working now as a professional Curse-Breaker at Gringotts in Egypt, and he would probably not be around much to help me. What about everyone else, though? I thought about Rowan--poor Rowan who just wanted to be a good scholar and the youngest professor at Hogwarts--then Penny, Tonks, Barnaby, Badeea, Tulip, Liz...all my friends who just wanted to be normal students, but couldn't because of me. Everyone was swept in the current that was finding the Cursed Vaults.

No. They wouldn't think of leaving me alone to fend for myself. Commitment from friends and people I trusted had to go to the last step. Rakepick already broke this protocol; I just hoped that no one else would.

I steeled myself as I entered the school now, racing towards my dorm to change for class. There was no way I would go to my first class of the day looking like I had just come out of a certain moody wizard's closet.

#chapter 3 is here yippee #mad-eye moody #alastor moody #hphm clara lin #year 6 #etched engraved everlasting #hogwarts mystery #hphm spoilers #hphm #hogs head inn #here we goooooooo

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catherinestark-hphm · 4 years

Text

Of Chirps and Snakes

Author’s note: This happens in an AU.

In this Universe (Ollie’s) Catherine is an only child and very different from her original universe.

For: @ryollie (Ness thank you for being a good friend and sharing the same exciting about letting these two become friends. Love ya, and I hope you enjoy this!)

Catherine Stark saw Ollie Potter for the time on Platform 9¾. She didn’t mean to stare, perhaps it was his hair, similar to hers, that made her fixate on his fathers biding him goodbye with proud smiles on her faces.

Catherine wondered if they also had high expectations for Ollie.

When she was sorted into Slytherin, Catherine’s invisibility began.

She decided to take matters into her own hands and have self vengeance on her betrayal by shunning away from her housemates, making herself crave for friendship would be enough punishment by disappointing and scaring her family full of Hufflepuffs. Her parents showed their last pang of love by making her promise to never befriend a sneaky Slytherin—that perhaps, that could help their daughter to avoid wickedness.

Catherine was cunning on her own. And keen, as well.

By the time she reached her third year, friendless and face sunken with a permanent frown, Catherine managed to become an Animagi by herself.

One a rare optimistic thought, Catherine surprised herself when she was able to properly make the potion—she didn’t have anyone to talk to, to distract her during classes. And keeping a Mandrake leaf under her tongue for a month was relatively easy.

When no one talked with you.

She wondered if it was worth it. Who was she trying to impress?

But then again, watching the students mingle together on the courtyard as she stood on a small branch of a low tree brought a peaceful feeling to the sparrowhawk that no one suspected was a third-year witch.

She’s been doing this for three weeks.

And Catherin saw Ollie Potter for the second time when he looked up at her, smiling softly. She watched him try to beckon her to come closer, but Catherine didn’t move from the branch. She didn’t dare to.

“Ollie! What are you doing, we’re gonna be late for potions and you know how Snape gets!” Laurent King was one of Ollie’s closest friends.

Ollie had a lot of friends.

He was Jacob’s brother. Harry Potter’s son. A Curse-Breaker.

Catherine knew about Ollie, but she didn’t know him.

Well, she now knew that he probably liked birds.

But Catherine didn’t dwell much on it, or at least she tried.

The Potter boy returned the next day, prepared with bird seeds this time.

Olli smiled gently at the bird—he didn't know it was a sparrowhawk, it looked like a hawk but... smaller. And with feminine features. But what made Ollie stare, in awe and wonder, was this bird's bright, golden eyes that looked back at him. Curiously and wary, as if it was hesitant but longing at the same time.

What is he thinking?

He made a sound, beckoning her. And Catherine decided to humour him, because why not? After all, there was a first time for everything. And her parents didn’t know about her abilities so what harm would this bring upon her?

When she flew and landed on his extended arm, Catherine was started at how brightly he beamed at her—surprised that she actually trusted him.

For three more months, Catherine’s home became Ollie’s shoulders whenever he visited that branch. He never failed, always after lunch and after their last class before he retreated to his Common Room with Laurent King or any of his many close friends—it always amazed Catherine how much everyone wanted to befriend Ollie.

They never interacted as classmates or housemates.

Catherine held no reputation as Ollie Potter did—she was invisible.

Her only company was Gizmo, her loyal and calming Niffler.

Tired of being left in the dark, Catherine decided to try and approach Ollie as herself. She planned to ask him a random question during Potions, but first, she needed to try and get paired with him.

That never happened. Rowan Khanna and Laurent quickly approached Ollie and Catherine was left with Merula Snyde and Barnaby Lee.

Her second attempt was to sit next to him during lunch—which proved to be impossible when she noticed Ollie and his circle of friends sitting together at one table. She sat on her usual table, alone and without appetite.

Maybe it was the damn birdseed.

Her third and final attempt was the one she had succeeded—in the worst way possible.

Ironically, she hadn’t even been trying to approach him, it just happened. Catherine was walking towards Charms, looking at the ground as she dragged her feet towards her favourite class. Then she collided with him. And their parchments and books fell on the stone floor, each belongings blending in together in a senseless mess before the two quickly got on their knees and tried to retrieve what was theirs as fast as possible.

Then Catherine grabbed a piece of paper that was not hers—it was a sketch of a bird and not any bird, that was her.

Ollie quickly snatched it from her hands with a neutral expression—and the two made eye contact for the first time.

She panicked when he stared too long, his emerald eyes flashing with slow recognition.

Stay away from Slytherins Stay away from Slytherins Stay away—

Catherine panicked at her mother’s voice, echoing sharply inside her head as if she had been caught, as if her mother was right behind her, ready to punish her disobedient child.

Ollie opened his mouth to speak.

Catherine ran.

She ran to where home was for her, so it wasn’t a surprise when she found herself hugging the tree where the small branch was, where she had the perfect spot to watch students creating memories for themselves, making friends and bonding with the ones they had—Catherine couldn’t even approach students of other houses.

Her parents had scared her so much.

She was still punishing herself.

No friends allowed you dirty snake. You don’t deserve it. Penny Haywood asked if you wanted to be Potions partner—you ignore her. Merula Snyde asked your name once, you turned your back. Barnaby Lee complimented your hair, and you scowled at him. Laurent King laughed when you rolled your eyes at Snape, you pretended you didn’t notice. Chiara Lobosca smiled at you—you looked away.

Ollie Potter was about to talk to you, something you planned for. And you ran.

You’re not a Hufflepuff, you ruined everything for everyone.

Catherine felt like she belonged nowhere in this school.

With all the panicking, she remained human and hid her face on the tree’s bark—as if it was shielding her from the steps approaching from behind.

Ollie had followed her.

Catherine didn’t dare to turn around, she was too embarrassed and scared to see him. Did he realize it? Was he going to be upset? Was Ollie going to think she was tricking him?

“I can’t believe you ate all those seeds… I could’ve brought you a sandwich.”

That statement shook Catherine to the core—he sounded calm, his tone was even gentle. Just like it always has been when she slept on his fluffy hair as if it was her nest and when she stood on his shoulder, hearing him talk to her as he tried feeding her those nasty bird seeds.

She turned to look at him and his smile widened, he was beaming.

“You really are something… three months and you never thought about introducing yourself as… well, yourself?”

His tone wasn’t accusatory, or snarky—Ollie was amused. Stunned even. It was like he couldn’t believe the situation.

Catherine felt as if she could cry. He was speaking to her, and she didn’t feel like ignoring someone’s attempt of approaching her this time.

She was tired.

Lonely.

Invisible.

No. Not anymore.

Ollie Potter was staring at her. Extending his arms.

Do you want to befriend this Slytherin?

Don’t befriend any Slytherins!

Catherine smiled back, finally, and took his hand—tearing up as she awkwardly shook it.

I am a Slytherin!

And maybe Slytherins aren’t that bad.

#catherine stark #ollie potter #ollie and catherine friendship #hphm #hphm au #loner cath #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery mc #harry potter: hogwarts mystery #laurent king #lau king #i'm sorry if it's not good aakened

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luckyspike · 5 years

Text

The Trouble with Nocturnal Ambush Predators - A Good Omens Fanfiction

when I went to post this on AO3 (found here), turns out Crowley’s weird statue has its own tag

shit’s wild guys

anyway crowley and aziraphale make a bet about how shitty crowley’s vision is

nobody but also everybody wins, in a way

count the parks and rec references. also of course i had to make someone a doctor because i live at work i guess idk

Everyone was rather surprised when Brian announced that he would be going to school with plans to become a doctor. Brian, who reveled in dirt and grime, Brian that even at twenty would wear clothes more than once if he thought he could get away with it, Brian that ate food out of takeaway boxes and still left them in the sink. It was startling, the image of Brian, that Brian, standing in a sterile operating theater, scrubbed and gowned and as anti-septic as possible. And yet, this was also Brian that was always there for the Them, who would come the moment he was called if help was needed, who swallowed his pride and rebuked his filthy habits if only for a few minutes, to help his friends and save the world.

It was surprising but, the Them and friends reflected, not entirely shocking. It did make sense, in a sort of way. “I’d really like to study infectious diseases,” he said one night over dinner at the Pulsifer’s, while everyone was still gathered around the table for drinks. It was late, and Anathema had gone an hour or so ago to put her little daughter to bed, even over the child’s protests and desperate clinging to Crowley, who objected much less firmly than any self-respecting demon should have. Well enough then, he told Aziraphale, when the angel had pointed it out, that he was only still a demon in technicalities only.

Pepper looked amused. “You should see him in classes,” she said, for she was in the same class as Brian, with her sights set on psychiatry as a specialty once she’d graduated. “He sits right up front, a real gunner, and every time they ask about some weird bacteria, boom! He’s right there with the answer.” She rolled her eyes, but she was laughing, too. “I think it was all the dirt he always had on him when we were kids - he communed with the germs and they accepted him as one of their own.”

Brian flushed. “I don’t talk to germs. I just think they’re jolly interesting, is all.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Adam Young said, leaned back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head. “Someone ought to, right? Otherwise we’d all die of cholera or something.”

Aziraphale frowned into his wineglass. “Nasty illness, cholera. I remember the pump outbreak …” He shook his head, putting an end to that reverie, and smiled at Brian instead. “It is fortunate you have such an interest, Brian - the world needs doctors, certainly.”

“So what’s medical school like these days?” Crowley asked, a mirror of Adam, leaned back in his chair with his feet on the table, idly swirling the scotch in his glass. “Last time I tried was, oh, the sixteenth century I think. Thereabouts.” He winced. “Pretty sure it’s got on since then. Hopefully.”

“Oh, yes,” Brian nodded. “Yes, I’d imagine it is. Very structured now, and there’s labs and independent study and practicing skills and all kinds of things, not to mention all the lectures and exams.”

“So many,” Pepper agreed mournfully. “Endless exams.”

“D’you practice on mannequins then?” Crowley looked thoughtful. “I’d imagine they do a good bit with mannequins.”

“Some yeah. And then some - the safer stuff - we practice on each other. Y’know …” Brian thought, waving his hands vaguely. “Listening to lungs and hearts, eye tests, that kind of stuff.”

Aziraphale looked up at that. “Eye tests, you say?” He looked across the table to Crowley, a grin slowly spreading over his lips. “Crowley, dear, we could finally settle the debate -”

“No. No, we can’t.”

Newt, who had been washing up in the kitchen, returned, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Debate? What are we debating, then?”

“Nothing,” Crowley griped. “Angel has been insisting for the past decade or whatever - since you kids were eleven, however long ago that was -”

“A decade,” Wensley confirmed.

“Right, so that long, I’ve had to hear about how I really shouldn’t be driving because snakes don’t have good visual acuity.” Crowley spread his hands. “To which I make my point: if I really couldn’t see, you think I would’ve gone this long with the Bentley without crashing it? Armageddon notwithstanding, that was extenuating circumstances.”

Aziraphale muttered into his wine, “Only thanks to occasionally-gratuitous use of miracles.”

“Occasionally, angel! Occasionally doesn’t count. Not like it’s a daily occurrence.

“And anyway, my vision’s better than a human’s at a distance and in the dark,” Crowley said authoritatively. “Horizontal planes an’ light refraction and all that. Saw a film about it.”

“Listened to a film about it,” Aziraphale mumbled. Adam snorted.

“Wasn’t very nice,” the boy said, although he was grinning.

Pepper laughed a little too, while Crowley presumably glared at Aziraphale - the sunglasses, as ever, made it difficult to tell for sure. “It’d be easy enough to test, if you really wanted to.”

“I don’t.”

“Not even for a wager?” Crowley looked at Aziraphale at that, and a long silence stretched out. The Them and Newt watched, rapt, because they’d only ever seen the two supernatural entities bet on something once before, and that was whether or not either of them could, after two bottles of wine, climb to the top of the biggest tree in Hogback wood without using miracles, wings, or shapeshifting*. They had, if memory served, wagered an entire years’ worth of song-selection privileges. It was, perhaps, fortunate that neither had won the bet, because in retrospect Adam considered it a distinct possibility that an ultimatum like that could only have ended in some kind of argument**.

[* They couldn’t, but no one had paid attention to that, because the entire spectacle was so hilarious that the end result was fairly irrelevant, and Crowley turned into a snake when he thought no one was watching and cheated anyway. ]

[** Crowley and Aziraphale, after the Nahpocalypse, argued very seldom, but being that neither liked to do anything by halves, arguments were usually intensely dramatic, if short-lived. The last argument had resulted in Crowley living in the garden at Jasmine Cottage as a snake for a weekend, and only ended because Newt threatened to call animal control on him if the two didn’t reach some kind of agreement about whether or not Tom or John Barnaby was the better detective .]

The demon was tempted. “What are the stakes?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Something.” Aziraphale shrugged. “Let’s say … oh, alright. You win, and I turn a blind eye to whatever you want to do to your plants for a month before the flower show next year.”

The Them and Newt, like spectators at a chess match, breathed out. “Oh, that’s a good one,” Brian mumbled.

“But if I win, which I will, of course, then …” Aziraphale considered it. “Then …” He thought harder, and then beamed. “Then next time the neighbors want to take a week holiday, you have to take care of their smallholding by yourself .” There were assorted gasps from around the table.

Crowley barked a laugh. “Absolutely not.”

“Because you know you’d lose.”

“No, because I always end up taking care of the smallholding by myself anyway, bloody goats.” Crowley leaned his elbows onto the table and tapped his chin with steepled fingers. “Right, when I win, I’ll … or you …” He brightened. “I get to yell at my plants, and you have to let me move the statue into the living room for an entire year.”

Aziraphale groaned. “Not the statue. No, just the plants.”

“No, the statue is a part of this.”

“When I win,” Aziraphale soldiered on, pretending they were not arguing about Crowley’s infamous Angel Statue that served as a crucial part of every argument and poorly-concealed threat in their relationship, “you have to put the blasted statue in a storage unit somewhere, and you take the speakers off that abhorrent vacuum cleaner."

Crowley looked appalled. “You’d cut out DJ Roomba’s tongue for a bet?”

“I’m hardly -” He looked to Crowley, and then relented, with a sigh. “Alright. No speaker on DJ Roomba for three months. Then you can put the speakers back on.” He seized Crowley’s hand the moment the other extended it, and they shook on it, both with equal enthusiasm and smugness. “I look forward to my three months of peace.”

“Can’t wait to put my statue in the living room and kill those bloody fittonias at last.”

Pepper and Brian exchanged a look, while Adam, Newt, and Wensley were trying to hide their laughter behind their hands. “We should print a Snellen chart,” Pepper said solemnly.

“Definitely need a Snellen chart.”

Newt nodded and stood from the table. “The printer is has bluetooth. Wait for me to be outside before you connect to it.”

Once Newt had vacated the building briefly, it was easy enough to print the eye chart. Adam found a measuring tape in a cookie tin full of sewing supplies***, and they solemnly marked out the ascribed distance. “Never done one of these before,” Crowley said, sobered-up for the endeavor. “What, you’re just supposed to read it?” Aziraphale was standing over his shoulder, arms crossed, looking so smug he might as well have already won. Perhaps he had.

[*** “ Why do you need it?” Anathema had asked him as she rocked Millie to sleep on her shoulder. Adam had explained, and she had nodded. “Oh, definitely,” she’d said. “The sewing kit is still in the linen closet in the bathroom - there should be a tape measure in there. Wait until I put Millie down to bed. I want to be there.” ]

“Yeah, you cover one eye,” Pepper instructed. “Right, and then you read the smallest line you can see. Ready?”

“Easiest bet I’ve ever won,” Crowley said, motioning to Brian to flip the corkboard he’d pinned the chart to. “Right, go for it.” The board flipped, and Crowley blinked. “Well, there’s the big ‘E’ at the top.”

“Everyone knows the big E,” Anathema said, dismissive. “He said read the smallest line you can.”

“Right. Ah …” There was an uncomfortable pause. “Can I try the other eye?”

“I knew it,” Aziraphale hissed triumphantly.

Brian swallowed. “Uh. In a minute. Um. Which … which direction is the ‘E’ pointing, then?”

Crowley frowned. “Whatever way ‘E’s usually point. What kind of stupid question is that?”

The assembled humans and one angel looked at the ‘E’ which was, very clearly, printed backwards. Aziraphale raised his hands to his mouth. “Crowley, you drove us here.”

“So? Didn’t crash, did I?” He switched eyes. “Oh, yeah, the other one’s better.”

“You’re serious?” Brian asked, craning his neck around to stare at the chart. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, so what’s that mean, then?” Crowley stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back onto his heels.

Pepper grimaced. “You’re legally blind?”

“No, that can’t be right.” He shrugged. “I drove us here, didn’t I?”

“He drove us here at 100 miles per hour,” Aziraphale added, in a mix of astonishment and terror.

“Right, and didn’t hit anything -”

“This time,” Anathema muttered under her breath.

“And made great time, all here, safe as houses.” He smirked. “Could a legally blind guy do that?”

“Maybe Daredevil,” said Newt, unhelpfully.

“Anyway,” Crowley went on, turning away to stalk across the room, past his horrified angel, and flick off the light switch, instantly plunging the room into darkness, “you’re not looking at this the right way. Move the chart around a bit, med student,” he instructed, the last part said with some disdain.

“You’re not at the line,” Brian protested.

“Just move it.” There was a whisper in the dark as the corkboard started moving in irregular figure-of-eights, Brian waving it around. Had it been light enough to see, his confusion would have been plainly evident on his face. “Right, so you got the ‘E’, which is backwards, then F, P, ah … T, O, Z, er … right, faster, okay, L, P, E, D, and then … Hm. Yeah, not sure after that.” The lights flipped back on, and Crowley put his sunglasses on. “So there.”

All the others looked from Crowley, to the eye chart, and back. “How?” Adam demanded. “You didn’t mess around -”

“Nocturnal ambush predator,” Crowley replied, as if it were obvious. “Plus, the ink’s still a bit warm from the printer. So even easier, really - I’ve got a whole extra sense, even, unless humans can see infra-red.”

“We can’t,” Wensley assured him.

“Right, so what’s that make me, then? I win, obviously.”

Aziraphale jumped in then. “Oh, no, no you don’t. Under human standards -”

“That was never specified.” Crowley grinned, and showed his teeth. Nocturnal ambush predator indeed. “Don’t try that with me, angel, remember which one of us is the demon, here.”

“It was inferred.”

“No such thing in a bet. Has to be expressly specified.” Crowley made a fist. “The fittonias die tonight.”

Since the lights had come back on, Anathema had been frowning, her lips moving occasionally as she clearly puzzled something over. She spoke, finally, slowly, and said, “But … but when you hit me with your car … it was night. And I was moving. And you were moving.” She looked at him, frowning. “You should have seen me, then.”

Crowley shrugged. “Wasn’t paying attention. No harm done, anyway.”

“Not after Aziraphale fixed me!”

Crowley scoffed. “Right. Like I said.” He pointed to Aziraphale. “I’m making an entire pop playlist for DJ Roomba just for this, angel.” He grinned even wider. “And I’m moving the statue as soon as we get home.”

“Really, dear boy, I don’t think this is as clear-cut as you say.”

“Oh, isn’t it?” Crowley pointed to Brian and Pepper. “Med students, stop me if I’m wrong -” they wouldn’t “- but the definition of visual acuity does allow for corrective devices, yes?”

“Yes,” said Pepper, while Aziraphale groused, “A moving chart and total darkness do not count as corrective devices, you know they mean glasses -”

“So there you go.” Crowley crossed the room and tore the chart from the board. “With corrective devices I’m … 20/50. So there. Not perfect but I still win.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were narrowed. “That’s cheating.”

“Again, if it’s not specified in the terms then technically it is not cheating. I’ve got books about this somewhere^, Aziraphale.” He spread his hands. “I’ve made a few bets and bargains in my life, believe it or not.”

[^ Books that were, he would not add, written in blood and bound in human skin.]

Aziraphale scowled. “You’re not putting that statue out.”

“Oh, but I am. I won the privilege.”

“You didn’t win anything.”

“Oh, but I did.” Crowley rubbed his hands together. “I definitely did. By the laws of betting.” He clapped Brian on the shoulder. “Thanks for moving the chart, kid.”

“And not letting the ink dry all the way,” Adam added under his breath with a poorly-stifled laugh.

Aziraphale was still scowling at Crowley, arms crossed over his chest. “We’ll discuss this further in the car.”

Crowley made a noise that might have been a chuckle, if there wasn’t just so much infernal glee instilled in it. “You sure you want me to drive home?” The angel’s wine glass miraculously filled itself. “Oh, so you’re going to be like that?"

“That statue is going out over my discorporated body.”

“It’s a very expensive statue.” He wilted a little under the blue fire in Aziraphale’s eyes. “Alright, we can talk about it in the car.”

The angel swallowed the wine in one gulp. “Capital.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #the them #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much #crowley is a snake in a human suit #you will never change my mind

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booksviolinsandembroidery-moved · 5 years

Text

Dear Diego,

Okay, so I wrote more Caphart (Diego x Sam) because these two make me weak. Lau belongs to @slytherin-puffskein!

“Come on Sam, nothing is going to change if you don’t say something to him.”

The sound of his friend’s voice snaps him out of his daydreaming. “Huh?”

Lau rolls his eyes. “Go ask him out already Sam. It’s really not that hard. Just a few words.” Sam heaves a heavy sigh. “Yes, I know. But I can’t talk to him if all that comes out of my mouth is gibberish. It’s not like I can help it…” He puts his elbow on his knee and plops his chin down in his palm then sticks his bottom lip out in a childish pout. His eyes have a faraway look to them as he gazes in the direction of the subject of their conversation. “He’s just so pretty. My brain turns to mush around him.” An idea pops in Sam’s head and a mischievous grin finds its way on his face. “And I don’t really think you have any room to talk, Mr. Oh-no-I-like-pretty-boys-in-slytherin-with-prominent-cheekbones.”

The look on Lau’s face makes Sam laugh. “See, you’re just as bad as I am.”

They sit in silence for a few moments until Lau speaks up again. “Why don’t you write to him? You’re always telling me that I should put my feelings down on paper.”

Sam’s breath catches in his throat. “I… I guess I could… But what if he hates it? What if he hates me? What if someone else gets ahold of it and they blackmail me with it? Oh Merlin, Lau, I don’t think I would be able to survive the embarrassment.” His brain continues to throw outlandish scenarios at him at a hundred miles per minute. “You are impossible, you know that? You never know until you try.”

He furrows his eyebrows and worries his lip. “I know… But what would I even write? ‘Hey, I like your butt and your fancy hair’? I can’t.” That earns him a look that turns into something thoughtful after a moment. “You could give him flowers. I could help you choose which flowers to give. He seems like the type of person that would know the language of flowers.”

Sam could feel the heat of a blush spreading across his face at the mere thought of handing Diego a bouquet of flowers in order to confess. “I-I don’t know about that one Lau…” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a piece of parchment and his quill and ink. “I think I’ll just stick to trying to write something out. That way I don’t have to be there when he rejects me.” “Saaaam!”

“Sorry Athena, not this letter,” he says fondly, giving his owl a scratch on the head. He takes another look at the final draft of his letter and anxiety twists in his gut. “Are you just going to stare at it, or are you going to send it?” Sam nearly jumps out of his skin and whips around to see who else was in the owlery with him. “Talbott!” He sighs, trying to get his pounding heart to slow. “I didn’t see you in here…” Talbott rolls his eyes. “Well that was obvious.” He grins at Sam, chuckling lightly. “You should have seen your face. That was priceless.”

Sam huffs. “Thanks. Glad I could make you laugh.”

“… You look like you did when I found you in the courtyard in fourth year after Snape read your note to me.” Sam blinks. “It’s that obvious?” Talbott smirks at him and it’s Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. “Okay, yeah, I guess it is…”

Talbott walks over to stand next to Sam. “You wrote Diego a letter then?” Sam sputters. “How did you know?” That earns him a laugh and Talbott nudges Sam. “Oh, look at me, I’m Sam, and I ignore people that I’m talking to when the guy I like is around! Oh, he’s so dreamy, I could stare at him all day! But Merlin forbid I actually talk to him, I might faint!” Sam groans.

“I do not sound like that Talbott. You’re just mean.” Talbott laughs again. “No, you’re just a coward.” Sam visibly deflates, thinking back to the last time he tried to talk to Diego.

‘Hello again, Sammy. You’re looking radiant as ever.’ Heat rushes to Sam’s face and in a moment of panic, he barks out a laugh. “You.. you’re… haha.. hm.” He looks to the ground in horror.

‘Oh Diego! Over here!’

Sam looks over to where the voice originated. It’s some Gryffindor girl, batting her clumped together eyelashes at him.

“Didn’t you say you’d give me some dancing lessons if I joined your dancing club? What are you waiting for?”

“Ah, until next time, Sam. Unfortunately, there is only one Diego Caplan to go around.” Disappointment sets in and Sam’s shoulders drop. “Y-yeah… See… See you ar-…” By the time he gets to the end of his sentence, Diego has already walked over to the girl and taken her hand, saying something to her that makes her giggle and blush.

“I wish I wasn’t. I’m just not good with words…” Talbott eyes the parchment in Sam’s hands. “Seems like you had enough though…” Sam had almost forgotten about the letter in his hands. He lifts it up to glance at it again and sighs. “Probably all the wrong ones…”

“… I’m not an expert on romance, but if you’re looking for reassurance… I could look at it for you. I did tell you that I write poetry sometimes…” Sam shyly looks at Talbott through his eyelashes. “Do you mind?”

Talbott holds out his hand. “I mean, I have managed to keep a boyfriend around for a little while. I think that counts for something.” Sam reluctantly laughs and places the note in Talbott’s waiting palm and the animagus immediately stars reading.

“It’s probably way too sappy… I think I should just rewrite it again.” Talbott pauses in reading to raise an eyebrow at Sam. “How many times have you written it…? You know what, never mind.” Sam anxiously waits for Talbott to finish.

While Sam had declined Lau’s suggestion to give Diego flowers, he decided to at least draw a flower, specifically a gardenia, on the bottom corner of the note in place of signing it.

A single moment is all it takes to fall in love. A breath, a smile, a word.

I watch from a distance, your elegance, your grace. Potrei guardarti tutto

il giorno. Ho un debole per te. Yet, you are always looking at another,

whispering in their ear, giving them your attention. I wonder what it would

feel like, to be the one to receive your undivided affection. The thought

alone seems too much to bear for my soft heart. Sei l’uomo dei miei sogni.

I long for the day I can gather the courage to express my feelings for you,

to be able to feel your embrace, to be able to call you mine.

Until then, amore mio.

“… You didn’t sign it.” Sam groans. “Yeah? So?” Talbott holds his hands up in surrender. “Nothing… It’s just hard to ask someone out if they have no idea who the hell is confessing to them.”

Sam snatches the letter away. “You…! Are of no help!” Sam receives another laugh from Talbott.

Knots had been twisting in his gut for the better part of the time between giving the letter to the owl to deliver and now. Sam opted to sit next to Lau for breakfast, since he wasn’t sure if he could handle sitting with anyone else when he saw Diego’s reaction to the letter.

“Lau, what if he hates it? No, don’t look at me like that, I’m serious! I shouldn’t have sent it ugh…”

Sam goes to continue his panicked rant but is interrupted when his dread reaches a high point. He hears them before many of the other students. The flap-flap-flap of owl wings coming to deliver the post. “Oh Merlin, what have I done?” Sam subconsciously hears Lau’s response, but his entire world has shrunken to the single owl with his owl. It feels like everything is in slow motion as the owl swoops down over the Hufflepuff table. His eyes chase the image of the owl, watching with bated breath as the owl plants itself proudly in front of Diego.

Sammy gasps quietly and reaches out to tightly grasp the sleeve of his friend’s robes. Diego smiles at the owl as he pets it and takes the letter from it. Sam shakes the sleeve in his hand lightly, but his knuckles are white from how tightly he’s holding on.

Barnaby is looking at him weirdly, but Sam doesn’t notice. All he can see is the way Diego’s eyes slowly widen the farther into the letter he gets, and ‘oh dear, why is it so hot in here today?’ He can see the other boy’s ears slowly turn red and the way his hands tighten around the letter and Sam’s heart is a jackhammer against his chest. ‘It shouldn’t take that long to read it…’

Suddenly, Diego’s head shoots up to scan the Great Hall and Sam panics once more. He grabs a bite of whatever that’s on his plate— Lau probably put it there, he’s always making sure Sam eats— and shoves it in his mouth as fast as he can, trying his best to look inconspicuous.

Lau snorts at Sam’s reaction while Barnaby is left confused.

#hphm #hphm mc #caphart #Samuel Gabehart #lau king #diego caplan #diego caplan x mc #okay I definitely don’t speak Italian but I tried #but tumblr is satan’s asshole #and it deleted the fucking text #my writing

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rosapeachhogwartsmystery · 6 years

Text

Meet the Family and the Dog (Hogwarts Mystery Imagine - fem!reader x Barnaby Lee)

Masterlist (To view my Masterlist, visit my Tumblr page)

Request: Could I request a reader x Barnaby reader where the reader is a half-blood or something and has a dog (or another animal) and when Barnaby comes home with them one day he is ecstatic because he’s never gotten the chance to meet one. idk it was just an idea I had. Thanks! <3 :)

A/N: I thought this would be a good imagine to let MC introduce Barnaby to her family. The dog might seem to have a minor part in the story, but I hope you will enjoy it.

Y/M/N = Your mother’s name

Y/F/N = Your father’s name

Words: 2045

Pairing: fem!reader x Barnaby Lee

_________________________________________________

Barnaby and you have been dating for almost three years. Your parents were dying to finally meet him. It wasn’t like Barnaby didn’t want to meet your parents, but you just were a little embarrassed. Besides, you were finally seventeen, which meant you were an adult in the Wizarding World. That meant your parents shouldn’t be too strict with you, right? Anyways, you have taken Barnaby over to your house. He was excited and a bit nervous to meet your parents, after all they were your parents! If he wanted to become more serious with you then he definitely needed to meet them. He had been thinking about the future with you and he thought about perhaps living with you after you two graduate from Hogwarts. You two had been talking a little about it, but no plans were made yet. It definitely depended on what you both wanted to do in the future. He knew he wanted to become a Magizoolist, but you didn’t know what you wanted yet. You thought about becoming a healer or perhaps a Curse-breaker, but you weren’t sure yet.

You held Barnaby’s hand when you walked over to the front door. “Are you sure you want to meet them?” You asked, feeling nervous. You hoped your parents would approve of him and you didn’t know what you would do if they didn’t. “Of course. Besides, it would a little late to go back now.” He said honestly. “That’s true.” You said, slightly squeezing his hand. “I guess we should just go inside then.” You said before you opened the front door. Your nerves definitely got worse when you got inside with Barnaby. You closed the door behind you and sighed. “I’m home!” You called, knowing you should tell them you have returned. Barking was heard. Barnaby tilted his head, looking at you. Before you could say something, you heard something running towards you.

A large black dog was barking a bit, welcoming you home. Barnaby blinked. You never told him you had a dog at home. You began petting the dog with a smile. “Well, hello Hercules. Did you miss me?” You said. The dog, Hercules barked again, like he replied to you. Hercules began sniffing Barnaby, being curious about the new guest. Of course, Barnaby wasn’t afraid and began petting Hercules. “That is a really nice dog.” He said with a smile. “I’m surprised he lets you pet him so easily. He usually has to get used to new people.” You said. “Then again, you are really good with creatures, so a dog should be no problem.” You said with a laugh. “You never told me you have a dog, I would have brought a treat or something if I knew.” He said. “Well, I don’t really talk much about home, do I? Except for talking about Jacob.” You said. Last year, Jacob was found and he was currently living with your parents.

A woman came into the hallway with a smile. Your mom definitely was excited to me your boyfriend, you could just see it. “You must be Barnaby Lee, right?” She asked when she walked over to Barnaby. He nodded. “Yes, I am. Nice to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N.” He said. Your mom simply gave him a hug and then she studied him for a moment. “Please, call me Y/M/N.” She said and then she looked at you. “You took so long, I thought you would have convinced him not to come.” She said, amused. You rolled your eyes. “Well, I might have considered it…” You joked. Your mother shook your head and then he looked at Barnaby. “Well, come on in. Y/N, you can lead him to the living room, right?” She said. “Of course.” You said and then you led him to the living room. Of course, Hercules followed you.

Your father was sitting in his usual chair, reading the Daily Prophet. He immediately put it down and stood up. He looked so serious when he walked over to Barnaby. “So, you are the boy that is dating my daughter…?” He asked. Barnaby wondered if your father already didn’t like him. “Yes, I am. I’m Barnaby Lee, nice to meet you, Mr. Y/L/N.” He said, holding out his hand to shake hands with your father. He suddenly broke out grinning and shook his hand. “So formal, but you have a firm handshake, I like that!” He said amused. You just shook your head in annoyance. Your father just was messing with your boyfriend. “Also, you can call me Y/F/N.” He said and then he pointed to the couch. “Please, take a seat.” He said. Barnaby and you sat down next to each other on the couch. You just hoped Barnaby didn’t think your parents were weird people. Your mom began asking if you two wanted tea. After that she sat down on a chair as well.

Jacob entered the room, still wearing his pajamas. Your mother frowned. “Jacob! Get dressed already. It’s almost noon!” Your mother scolded. You face palmed, wondering why this kind of things happened now. Jacob blinked and then he looked at you and Barnaby. “Oh, I thought you were joking that Y/N would bring Barnaby home.” He said with a smirk. He looked at you amused and you shot him a glare. “Well, the next time I’m downstairs, I promise I will be dressed.” He said with a chuckle, quickly getting out of the living room. Your whole family was just crazy, you were sure of it. You could blame your madness on them. You looked at Barnaby. He didn’t seem to be disturbed by anything he saw, so that was good. You sighed softly, wondering what kind of questions your parents would ask him.

Hercules began walking over to Barnaby, basically asking to be petted again. Barnaby just petted the dog and your dad was surprised. “My, Hercules never let new people pet him that easily. You must be really good with animals.” He said. “Oh, I’m good with handling pets and creatures.” Barnaby said. “His best subject is Care of Magical Creatures.” You said with a smile. “Interesting. It definitely wasn’t my best subject during my Hogwarts days. Everything was still very new back then.” He said. “Y/F/N is a Muggleborn.” Your mother explained. “That is probably one of the reasons why we have a dog in the house.” She said with a grin. “Hey, you like dogs as well, Y/M/N.” Your father said. “But yes, I wanted to have a dog in the house. My parents used to have a dog after all. It just feels right to have Hercules around. Besides, he is a pretty big dog and can scare unwanted visitors away.” He said with a grin.

“I think dogs are great pets. It’s a shame they don’t allow them at Hogwarts.” Barnaby said. “Yeah, I was disappointed in that as well. I did have an owl back at my Hogwarts days, but it definitely wasn’t the same as a dog.” Your father said. Your father seemed to like Barnaby. That was definitely a relief. You wanted your parents to get along with your boyfriend after all. It would make things so much better if they just approved of him, especially because you two were pretty serious about each other. You both matured over the year and you knew you could trust him. There was mutual trust, which was a sign of a healthy relationship, right? Being here with him was nerve wrecking, even though it was looking good so far.

“Is it true your father was a Death Eater?” Your father asked. Barnaby froze a little. He didn’t expect such a question. “Father…! You can’t just ask that.” You said, frowning a little. “I just want to get to know him and I want to know a little about his family, what is wrong with that?” Your father said. Barnaby looked at you and gave you a smile. “It’s all right.” He said and then he looked at your father. “It is true, my father was a Death Eater and he is currently in Azkaban.” He said. “I see…” Your father said. “Just one more question. Do you wish to follow the same path as your father and join You-Know-Who?” He asked. You gave your father a weird look. “Of course not.” Barnaby said. “I mean, I do not believe in the ideas You-Know-Who has. Even if my father would want me to, I won’t do it.” He said honestly. “All right, that is all I wanted to know.” Your father said.

“You are a good boy, Barnaby.” Your father said. “I’m sure you have taken good care of Y/N so far. She is definitely very fond of you.” He said. You blushed slightly. Barnaby was slightly amused when he glanced at you. He could tell you were embarrassed by the questions your father asked him. He didn’t mind it. He kind of expected your parents to ask some questions. He might not completely saw the question about his father coming, but he could manage it. He had been thinking about that question quite often. Did he want to turn out like his father or become someone else? He figured it out not too long ago. He might see some good qualities in his father, but he didn’t want to turn out completely the same. He wanted to be strong, so he would be able to face all kind of Magical Creatures as a Magizoolist.

Your mother also asked Barnaby questions. Mostly about his future. She could understand he wanted to become a Magizoolist. Barnaby was passionate about it, she could tell. Perhaps it would help you figure out what you wanted to do in the future as well. You only have one year left and then you would have to choose something. She knew you were still struggling with that, but at least you were trying to figure something out. You had many options with your N.E.W.T. results. You could become a Healer or an Auror. Perhaps a Curse-breaker, but perhaps it would be better to stay away from cursed things after the Cursed Vaults, your mother thought. She knew she couldn’t stop Jacob though.

After a long day you led Barnaby up to your room. You had convinced your parents to let Barnaby stay in your room when he would stay over. You couldn’t imagine what kind of things Jacob would do when Barnaby would have to share a room with your brother. The guestroom already was ruined by Jacob, who was experimenting with something. He was smart enough to not experiment in his own room, but you knew how pissed your parents were when they found out what Jacob did. Besides that, Jacob was your brother. He would definitely ask Barnaby all kind of things and tells him embarrassing stories or something. He would do everything to tease you. He wouldn’t go too far, but you would still end up being embarrassed.

“This is my room. As you can see, the bed is big enough for both of us.” You said with a grin. “Ah, you want to share your bed with me.” Barnaby said amused, only blushing slightly. “Of course, I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor. Besides, this is way more comfortable than sneaking into each other’s dormitory at Hogwarts, right?” You whispered the last part in his ear. “Well, if you didn’t come up with the idea I probably wouldn’t have thought of it. But, it is always so nice to sleep next to you.” He whispered back, grinning slightly. “The only thing that is hard is sneaking out. We are lucky Snape or another professor haven’t caught us yet.” He said honestly. “Well, I’m pretty sure no other student would snitch on us. I know some other couples that are doing the same things.” You said amused.

Suddenly Hercules walked into your room. Your father smirked slightly. “I thought you two would like the company of the dog, right?” He said. “Have a good night you two.” He said before he passed your room. You groaned, knowing why your father did that. You really were considering to move out as soon as you graduated.

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mobile game #harry potter imagine #hogwarts mystery imagine #imagine #jacob's sibling #jacob hogwarts mystery #mc #fem!reader #female reader #barnaby lee #reader x barnaby lee #muggleborn #half-blood

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multiverseanimecrossover · 5 years

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A detective name Kogoro Akechi turns to Kotetsu, Barnaby, Doug and Kirill for help in finding a 15-year-old boy name Yoshio Kobayashi. But Akechi is not only a detective however he runs a detectives club where he is the boss of a bunch of schoolboys who strive to become detectives. One of them was Yoshio as he was outgoing, reckless and some of the boys and girls referred to him as an adrenaline junkie. One day, things changed when Yoshio was reunited with his foster brother, Alexi, is alive who is with a woman by the name of Fujiko however Fujiko turned to be a scam artist who was a pawn from Heikichi Endo! Alexi was almost killed by Fujiko’s betrayal however he’s recovering in the hospital. Yoshio was devastated to find out that Akechi had withheld information about Alexi all this time and he ran off but he never came back since so he needs to find him because Yoshio’s adoptive father Kiritsubo. “And you’re asking us?” Kotetsu asked. “Yeah, but don’t you know a kid around in his teens and in peril. An adrenaline junkie like him always turns up you know.” Akechi said. “For all we know, he could be dead.” Doug remarked. “Don’t say that!” protested Kirill. “He does have a point. I mean, sometimes missing persons can be dead or alive.” Barnaby stated. “Well, my hunch is telling me he’s still out there. I just don’t know where.” Akechi said. “Good point, a gut feeling could tell you something.” Kotetsu stated. Just then, a recorded message is sent to Akechi: It’s from Heichiki Endo who claims he has Yoshio as a hostage and wants Akechi to rescue the boy. The location was Kobayashi Inc! At Kobayashi Inc; it was vacant and no one in sight when Anthem users leaped out and attacked Kotetsu and the other three. Then, a bunch of people attacked. “See? This is Endo’s work!” Akechi said. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” Kotetsu remarked. Soon, the people were going crazy while smiling maniacally however Akechi took them out while he faced the huge screen and glared up at the tower next to the screen. “How much are you going to be a puppet…Yoshio?” Akechi hollered. There was an eerie silence and the large projection screen display the image of 15 year old Yoshio: He looked tired, red around his eyes and his face was pale. Barnaby gasped. “Whoaaa…didn’t see that coming.” Kotetsu remarked. “WHAT?!” Kirill exclaimed. “You…you knew?” Yoshio asked. “Wasn’t hard to figure out. Endo used you and he exploited you of untruths while turning me against you…You can’t listen to him, he’ll hurt you like he did with many others…” Akechi explained. “SHUT UP! Stop lying to me!!!” screamed Yoshio. Reaching up to the control tower, Akechi managed to talk to Yoshio as they both reconciled. Just then, Yoshio was kicked down by Heikichi who verbally torments Yoshio, much to Akechi’s dismay. Wild Tiger, Barnaby, Veteran and Okappa watch intensely as Endo leads Yoshio and Akechi outside at gun point. “Come now Yoshio, you know you caused all this pain. All this is your fault, your father is sacrificing everything to save you and you did this to Akechi.” Endo mocked pitilessly. Yoshio shakes his head, “No…I…” He started to say. “That’s enough Heikichi! Stop this now! Let him go!” Akechi barked. Endo sneers at his arch nemesis, “I want him to see the pain he caused, and the expression on your face Akechi.” He stated. Yoshio steps forward, grabs Akechi. “Captain…please, end it. I beg of you.” Yoshio pleaded. “No…I’m not going to.” Akechi said, looking away with a pained expression. “I DESERVE IT!!!” Yoshio shouted. Akechi gets him away, Yoshio falls back as Heikichi caught him as he toys Yoshio, much to Akechi’s tortured turmoil. “Yes, that’s the look I want to see.” Endo said. “Crap, this is bad.” Kotetsu said. “Damn, how can we save these people when Heikichi Endo has a hostage?” Barnaby wondered. “This is not good.” Kirill mumbled. “Gotta get them both out of there.” Doug thought. Glass broke; Yoshio took one of the shards and held it to his throat. “Yoshio…don’t do it!” Kirill hollered. “DON’T COME UP HERE!!!” Yoshio shouted. Just then, the sprinklers turned on as there was some anesthetic gas knocks out Wild Tiger, Barnaby, Veteran and Okappa and Yoshio…except Endo who escapes with a gas mask on. “Heikichi Endo…what have you done?!” A girl demanded. Endo turned to see a woman in a hood and wearing a gas mask too. “Who are you?” He asked. “I’ll make sure she hears about this.” The girl warned. As Seven O managed to awaken the other four and Yoshio as well as Akechi. Yoshio is sitting there shaken with a blanket wrapped around her. “How are you feeling?” asked Akechi. Yoshio looked at him with sad eyes, “Akechi…I’m sorry…” He said weakly. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” Akechi reassured him. Yoshio tears up again, “Please forgive me…” He sobbed. “Relax kid, just take some time off all right?” Akechi suggested. “…Yeah, OK.” Yoshio said with a weak nod. Just then, Yoshio’s father came up to him followed by his assistant. One week later; Yoshio was having sessions with the guidance counselor, he was acting normal as if nothing happened. However, he was alone after as he would suffer from emotional stress as well as survivor’s guilt. His father would check up on him. Doug watches from afar, he couldn’t believe this was happening Yoshio. It seems Yoshio’s emotional scars are much deeper. Later, he told his partner what was going on while driving. “Survivor’s guilt?” Kirill asked. “Yeah, he feels bad for what happened. The whole thing with Heikichi really screwed him up.” Doug stated. Kirill sighed, “Damn, that’s rough.” He commented.

#double decker doug and kirill #tiger and bunny #dark chapter #tragedy #emotional #manipulation #tragic

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diddlesanddoodles · 4 years

Text

Dumpling ch. 18

Maevis busied himself for the next hour by returning the books to their proper homes while Barnaby gathered Jae and Nenani over to one side of the table. Under a green cloak, was an old wooden trunk. The wood was worn and dark with age. The metal was unpolished, but strong. With difficulty and a bit of help from Jae, Barnaby lifted away the lid to reveal the treasure inside.

Books. Human sized and bound in black leather.

He ran his finger along the spines of the top layer, scouring the gilded letters.

“A small miracle these survived,” he said. “But I believe the one I want is...ah, yes this one. My boy, would you mind to clear some room here? Those paint pots are dried so no worry about them spilling.”

Jae obediently made room on the small work table as the older man pulled one book out slowly and with great care before placing it open upon the table. He gestured for Nenani to come look. She had a little learning of letters, but had not been very studious and the years of disuse after her parent’s deaths had left her reading comprehension sorely lacking. “I’m not very good with letters.”

“Oh, well we will have to sort that out in the future. But for now, I will read them to you. These pages list the names of men who were all apart of the Thorn Guard. Listed by family. This page here is where the Family Daelg begins. And as you can see...” he flipped through several pages. “...there are many of them. Your forefathers were all in the guard for many many year. One of the oldest serving families. Protecting the King and kin.”

“Papa guarded the King? Really?” She drew up an image of her father in her mind and had no diffuculties reconciling with image. In her eyes, her father had always held all the qualities of a knight from stories he read her. Brave, selfless, and loyal. It warmed her heart to know she had been right, but it fueled her need to know more.

“No, he was not high enough in rank to be so close to the King himself. Your grandfather would have, yes. Often. In fact I do believe that was his last official post. But here, look.”

The archivist ran his finger along bottom of the page. “This your father’s entry. Hayron. Born to Hayier Daelg by his wife Maudre on the fourth of September in ninth year of King Haeral’s rule. Your Uncle, Halden was born little over a year later in the winter.”

There was not much more about her father or uncle in the book and very little revealed itself in the other tomes. But Barnaby was gracious enough to tell her stories her remembered about them when he was still the archivist for Silvaara. However, she was able to get a better picture of her Grandfather, Hayier. As captain of the Thorn guard, his name repeatably popped up throughout the pages.

“They use to call him Old Ironwood, because he was so straight and unyielding,” he told her. “He was a fierce fighter, your grandfather.”

“You should come to open call and see Rheil break in the new recruits,” Jae suggested. “It’s in a few days, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Seeing as she’s got Thorn Guard blood,” Jae grinned at Nenani and poked her with his elbow. “Maybe she’ll pick up a few things.”

Barnaby looked as though he were about to protest, but was cut off by Maevis. “Oh dear. My friends, we may have a problem.”

The three humans looked to see the magician standing near one of the windows with a small stack of books in his arms, one arm still holding one out as he was slipping it into an empty spot on the shelf. He was looking down at something below.

“What’s wrong?” Jae asked.

“Just now, I noticed Hev leave the west side corridor.”

Jae’s face fell. “Oh….oh, that’s bad.”

Nenanmi turned to Jae and asked, “Why is that bad?”

He sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair before giving her a sympathetic glance. “Because that means he’s coming back from the kitchens.”

Nenani felt her insides turn as understanding settled in. “Maybe he was just getting a snack?”

Barnaby placed a hand on Nenani’s shoulders. “I am afraid my dear that the proverbial cat, as they say, is out of the bag.”

“So that means...” She trailed off with a groan.

“Yep,” Jae replied. “Farris knows you lost your marker.”

………………………

They had left the library, saying their goodbyes to Maevis and Barnaby, and made the slow trek back through the tunnels towards the kitchens. Jae tried to reassure her that they could still potentially come upon the marker somewhere along the tunnels in a fortuitous turn of luck. Grateful as she was for his continued optimism, she knew without giving it concrete consideration that it would be a fruitless venture. It was gone forever. Plain and simple. And she felt sure that facing Farris was a much better direction to take. How could she ever explain to Jae or to anyone what she had seen? How could she ever find her way back, even if she wanted to prove that she had not been making the whole thing up?

The moment they stepped into the dark, she had expected to hear the voices again, to feel dizzy, or to feel anything beyond the norm. But it was as it had been before. Just a tunnel illuminated by Maevis’s orbs. Nothing strange about it. As they moved along the path, she kept a close eye on the light, worried that any second they were disappear and the heat-less flames would come back, beckoning them both towards the catacombs. But they did not. She decided in that moment that it had never happened and she never needed to waste another thought on what lay deep inside the walls of Vhasshal.

Jae sensed her anxiety and gave her a cheeky smirk.

“If he’s that mad, you could always stay here in the tunnels with me,” he offered. But his grin faded when he received no reply. “It’ll be OK, y’know. I promise. Farris will yell for a while and maybe make you sweep the kitchen by yourself or something like that. Make a tiny broom for you or something.”

“Yeah,” she replied lowly as they rounded the last corner and could see the door to the kitchen. A faint string of light outlining its shape in the dark. “Maybe.”

Drawing nearer, they could hear Farris hollering nearly twenty feet from the door.

“Oh,” Jae said with a frown. “He’s pissed, alright.”

Nenani grimaced and groaned, not looking forwards to what was to come. She hoped she wouldn’t go deaf. As they approached the tunnel door, Farris’s words became that much more audible. “...COULD YA BE THAT STUPID?! ONE SIMPLE THING!”

“Well, old Hev did mention the request came from Keral,” Yale’s voice, much softer and muffled by the stone, replied. His words were barely heard. “Wouldn’t be shocked if he’s also the reason why.”

Jae glanced over his shoulder and motioned for Nenani to stand behind him and then slowly eased the door open a few inches. It was quite heavy, however and despite his best efforts to make a quite and inconspicuous entry, the hinges creaked. A high pitched shriek of old and oil thirsty metal.

“I COULDN’T GIVE A..” Farris’s voice abruptly cut off at the sound and Jae froze, eyes wide and mouth grimacing. They both stood silently behind the ajar door, waiting for something to happen. Perhaps the two giants would continue on speaking and not notice anything. However, when Farris’s voice struck up again, it had lost almost all of its previous volume and was replaced by an irritated snark. “Well? Ya just gonna skulk behind the fucking door or ya what?”

With a resigned groan, Jae pushed the door open the remainder of the way. Hesitantly and with an uneasy smile, he stepped through and onto the mantel’s surface. Nenani was on his heals, pressing herself behind him as if to shield her from the sight of the giants. Farris loomed over the pair, a severe scowl plaster upon his face. One hand was clenched at his side while the other was planted firmly on his him.

“Farris, I can explain-” Jae began, but he was completely ignored and without even allowing him to finish, the giant reached out and slammed the door to the tunnel shut. The same hand then turned to grab up the young man and plucked him from the spot where he stood. “WHOA-hey!”

“Yale!” Farris barked while holding Jae out away from his person, never averting his eyes from Nenani. Behind gritted teeth, he hissed, “Find somewhere more fitin’ fer this one to be that ain’t in m’face.”

Yale started, hastily lowering the crock he has been holding onto the table before moving to Farris’s side with alacrity and reaching out for Jae just as Farris’s fingers released their grip. Jae cried out in alarm as he dropped the three feet before landing in Yale’s outreached palms.

“As ya say, Boss!” Yale replied, giving Jae no time to recover or add his own commentary, and promptly sprinted out the archway and into the courtyard.

“Saen!” Farris barked, his eyes still not wavering from Nenani. On the other side of the kitchen, Saen was elbows deep in flour. Upon hearing his name, the young giant jumped, sending a small plume of flour up into the air.

“Uh, yeah?” He asked tentatively.

“Leave it be fer th’moment and go see Bart.”

“Aye, will do.” Same as Yale, Saen quickly made his exit through the archway, leaving Farris and Nenani alone. In that moment of silence, she was reminded of just how imposing a figure Farris was and being the focus of his ire was truly a terrifying experience. It was not wholly dissimilar to their first meeting and though she was absolute in her confidence he would not harm her, she could help but shrink away.

“Don’t suppose ya have some shit of a’reason fer not having yer marker, eh?” he began sternly. His voice strained as he struggled to maintain his tone. He waved a hand at her before crossing both arms and staring at her expectantly. “Well then, let’s have it.”

Her tongue felt twice its normal size and all she managed was a few false starts and stutters.

“Yer gonna just gap at me like a fucking lipper or is that all ya got?”

“N-no...” she managed to mumble out quietly.

“Gonna have t’be doin’ better than that, Dumplin,” said the spice master. He opened one palm to reveal a small scrap of leather at the end of which dangled a piece of struck metal. Her new maker. “You remember at all why these are important?”

“So...so other Vhasshalans leave me alone,” she replied, swallowing thickly against the growing tightness in her throat.

“NO!” Farris roared. “ITS SO THEY DONT FUCKIN’ EAT YA!”

Nenani jumped, stumbling back until her shoulders hit the wall and she stared wide eyed up at the giant. Hot tears fell rolled down her cheeks. Farris was red in the face and snarling, his anger open and on show. It was too hard to meet his gaze and she averted her eyes to stare at her feet.

“Thrist aint’ th’only fucker that would try t’gut n’ roast ya if he thought he could get away with it. Are ya soft in the brain t’ave forgotten that?”

“No, I-I just...I’m sorry...” Nenani whimpered.

“And ya’d be even sorrier if...”

“Farris,” said a voice from the archway, cutting his words short. Farris turned to glance over his shoulder, giving Nenani a clear view of the doorway. Captain Rheil, dressed in his red boiled leather armor stood under the entryway, and wearing a somber and serious expression. “Forgive my interruption, but I need to speak with you.”

“Can’t ya see I’m busy?” Farris growled in annoyance, but the gray haired giant’s steel gaze never wavered.

“Believe me, you will want to make time for this,” he replied. “This matter concerns the humans.”

Farris turned fully face Rheil, head tilted in interest. “Alright, on with ya then. What other trouble have these wee brats managed?”

“Nothing like that,” the captain replied, taking Farris’s affirmative response as invitation to enter, and he stepped into the kitchen proper. “This matter involves all the humans on castle grounds, I am afriad. There have been several troubling reports.”

“Reports? What reports?”

“You’re familiar with Queen Rosanna’s personal guard, Creag, correct?” Rheil asked. When Farris grunted an affirmation, he continued. “I’ve also been fielding complaints about him since the Ibronian procession arrived last month. Harassing wait staff and some of my men for the most part, but he has also made several threats against both Sawyer and Connar. There has been a sharp uptake in his behavior and the Ibronian has been outright violent since the wedding, but today both Maevis and Keral came to me about him explicitly trying to kill Jae near the Royal apartments. Your ward was reportedly with him at the time of the incident.”

Though she could not see his face, Nenani watched the muscles of Faris’s back pull taught and his fits ball up.

“That fish nosed fuck tried t’murder two children right under the King nose?” Farris’s demanded. It was a tone Nenani had not heard him use and it felt much more dangerous than his normal level of anger. A deep, guttural growl with real vehemence behind it. He fixed the captain with a razor edged glare. “Rheil, yer lot better be doin’ somethin’ ‘bout this fucker. ‘Cause I can’t be promisin’ ya that me and my boys won’t.”

The captain seemed to have anticipated this reaction and held up a placating hand. “My men are escorting him to an audience with the King as we speak and I have plenty of witnesses to attest to the event. My main mission in coming to you was to let you know to keep a short leash on the lil’un for a while. Keep her down here and out of sight while things are taken care of upstairs.”

“Aye.”

“And since the brat’s already down here as well, that makes my task all the simpler. The King requests the same of Jae. Don’t allow him to squirrel away some place of his own choosing. The King has ordered him to remain down here and under your supervision until his Majesty comes to collect him in person.”

Farris cursed and shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Gods piss on it all. It’s fuckin’ Baynor all over again.”

“Luckily for us, the Ibronian does not posses nearly the political currency as my predecessor,” Rheil replied. “However, the Queen has an ample supply and my observations have been that she is heavily reliant on him.”

“Ya expectin’ any trouble?”

“No,” Rheil replied. “Nothing so bad as when Baynor was ousted. But I would rather be prepared in any case and his Majesty was very clear. Jae is to remain here.”

For a long moment, no one said anything and Nenani wondered if she had been forgotten entirely.

“Aye,” Farris said finally and nodded. “They’ll be watched well and good.”

Rheil hummed in approval and tilted his head to the side to look passed Farris to fix Nenani with a warm smile. “Haven’t see ya in a good long while, lass. Hope that walking boulder didn’t hurt ya none.”

Nenani shook her head. “No. He wasn’t really going after me.”

“So I’ve been told,” Rheil said. “Jae does seemed to have been th’ main target, but I have no doubt he’d have just as well treated ya to the same had he caught ya. Keral mentioned he found ya wanderin’ ‘round by yerself. Lost in the halls without yer marker.”

There was a teasing nature to Rheil’s words.

“S’that how ya lost it then, eh?” Farris asked, pinning her with one green eye.

She shrugged meekly. “I don’t remember it falling off. I had it and then I didn’t. I was running a lot.”

Farris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, before turning to her and walking up to the mantel. He held her new marker aloft between two fingers and as she reached out to take it, he told her firmly, “Best be learnin’ to take better care of it, Dumplin’. ‘Cause if yer ever needin’ another anytime in the next ten years, I’ll be tying one end of a short lead to ya and th’ other to a lipper barrel and ya can live in the yard.”

She stared and then nodded fervently before quickly clipped the leather around her neck. The metal was almost hot from being clenched in Farris’s fist for so long, but there was a measure of comfort with the now familiar weight being back along her collar bone. She peeked up at the kitchen master, cautiously optimistic.

“So...does this mean I’m not in trouble anymore?”

#g/t writing #dumpling #Giant/tiny #Fantasy Story #Nenani #Jae #Barnaby #Maevis #Kera #giants #humans #Vhasshal #Rheil

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batgirl-87 · 6 years

Text

HPHM MC’s Relationship with the Gang: Rowan Khanna

Fast Friends

Rowan was their first friend which was of a great relief to MC who was concerned about being an outcast and a loner with rumors constantly swarming about them and their family causing other students to avoid them because everyone already knew about their brother. (My MC is a member of the Black family which leads to more talk/rumors and was living in a different country prior to going to Hogwarts so coming there without knowing anyone while everyone seemed to know her/her family, or at least think they do, was anxiety provoking). Fortunately Rowan was put into their House so they would have a friend not only school but also in their House and as a roommate. Even more fortunate was that Rowan didn’t think they were crazy like their brother and actually agreed to help them find the Cursed Vaults and more importantly, Jacob.

Rowan’s intellect and thirst for knowledge is a great asset to MC, for finding out more about the Vaults but also when it came to studying for school (oh yeah, still have to do homework and pass classes). Although Rowan is a bit socially awkward and a dork, MC finds that endearing and actually enjoys the puns. They were surprised when Rowan stood up to Merula with MC and showed a brave, strong, and loyal side even though they just met. MC was very surprised but happy to learn they found, what they believed to be, a true and loyal friend especially so soon at their time at Hogwarts (hello our Ron Weasley =p)

That’s What Friends Are For

Although Rowan may be a stickler for studying and doing homework, waking MC up if they fall asleep while studying, it is good for MC since they clearly still have to do well in school. Sometimes, most of the time, their focus is honed in solely on the Cursed Vaults and Jacob that they forget about actual school and self-care which is where Rowan comes in. Rowan makes sure they do their homework and study for exams - which MC does love learning all these spells and charms etc. at Hogwarts but they also need to find their brother! When Rowan reminds them that learning these lessons will help them find Jacob it helps MC focus on their school work which they do eventually get into, if it’s a class they actually enjoy and want to learn from.

MC also can become so focused on finding the Vaults, Jacob, and strengthening their magical skills to do so they can easily neglect their own health such as by not eating, sleeping, or even bathing. Rowan again steps in to make sure they get something to eat, either by bringing them food to dragging them to the Great Hall for a meal. Rowan will try to kindly tell MC they need to eat, get some sleep, etc. out of concern but if that is not enough they can get a bit more forceful, taking books away, even taking MC’s wand away, dragging/shoving them to the bath, bed, or Great Hall, tucking them in tightly so they cannot escape, etc. If magic needs to be used against MC to do so then so be it! Will let MC sleep as much as they need to on weekends and make sure no one disturbs them because they need their sleep!

Rowan is one of the very few people who know how much MC is struggling and have seen them have breakdowns over Jacob and everything they’re going through (helps being their roommate). Rowan has woken up to MC having nightmares, where they try to gently wake them up and comfort them afterwards - MC normally says they’re fine but sitting up and talking to Rowan does help calm them down, usually some warm soothing drink is included courtesy of Rowan, and at times they have both fallen asleep either in MC’s bed or on the Common Room couch - or being up, unable to sleep. During those times MC can be found sitting up in their bed or a window seat in their dorm looking at Jacob’s journal, old photos, or hugging something of Jacob’s they have (e.g. sweatshirt, my MC has an old Golden Snitch from Jacob after winning a game and talking to some Professional Quidditch scouts) probably crying, or out in the Common Room doing more research on the Vaults, spells, etc., looking at old photos out there, sitting and staring into the fire lost in their thoughts, or sitting in a Common Room window seat looking out the window, again possibly silently crying.

A couple times Rowan has found them pacing back and forth in the Common Room muttering to themselves as they think out loud trying to figure out the Vaults and where Jacob is, who R is, etc. (MC does their best to hide more emotional breakdowns). Rowan has also seen them turn more angry and violent instead of a sobbing, depressed mess and have witnessed MC slamming doors, throwing things, and breaking things and even sometimes punching things but fortunately it’s normally a pillow and not something they would seriously hurt them, while yelling and cursing angrily. Rowan normally leaves them alone during that time, since it normally happens in their bedroom, and waits for them to calm down before seeing how they’re doing, normally bringing a warm, soothing drink with them.

MC is admittedly embarrassed that Rowan has to see them at their worst and times despite trying to hide it, but they are roommates and sometimes they can’t hold it in any longer. Fortunately, Rowan is understanding and compassionate and better yet, protective. During those moment for MC, Rowan ensure Merula, Ismelda, and anyone else stay away from MC so they can have their moment. Rowan also usually keeps most of this to herself although she will occasionally share some things with the rest of their group, or those who are also very close with MC such as Penny, Bill, Charlie, Barnaby, and Tonks, such as MC had a bad night last night, didn’t sleep or had another nightmare, or was found having another breakdown over Jacob and is really struggling right now so they know to be a bit softer with MC, don’t ask too much of them right now because they are so stressed, try to lighten the mood and make MC laugh or offer to help them with something to lessen their stress, bring them food to make sure they eat, etc. Primarily, though, it is to ensure no one else (e.g. Merula, Ismelda...even Snape) upsets MC right now and sets them off and be a bit more protective over MC.

MC does what they can to help Rowan as well when they need it. For instance, Rowan often feels homesick so MC will ask them about their home life, walk with them outside and sit under or climb trees, and has managed to get a little Wiggentree for Rowan’s nightstand to remind them of home (plus Penny gets to use the bark for potions). When Rowan gets stressed out or overwhelmed with school work or researching too many things at one time MC is able to calm them down, usually brings them a warm, soothing drink like Rowan normally does for them when they’re upset, and helps them to relax, de-stress, and organize their priorities so they can focus on one thing at a time. MC will also be encouraging to Rowan who can be a perfectionist and hard on themselves, worried they will not ever become a great Professor - MC learns more from Rowan than most Professors at Hogwarts now! There’s no way they cannot achieve their goal. And if they ever need anything, even just to talk, MC is there for them. MC was very worried when they were working towards becoming Prefect because Rowan wanted it as well but it was something MC always wanted! When MC became Prefect over Rowan they were very worried this was hurt their friendship but Rowan was a true supportive friend through and through and MC was sure Rowan would become Head Girl/Boy - they deserve it! And they would do what they could to make sure it happened!

MC will also ensure Rowan eats when they get too wrapped up in their research, finding them usually in the Library and bringing them food, much to Madam Pince’s dismay but they clean up after themselves and keep the books clean! When Rowan falls asleep over their books, either in the library or Common Room, MC will put Rowan to bed. If anyone harasses Rowan for any reason MC will definitely stand up for them and if things need to get physical they are fine with that! They can also enlist Tulip and Tonk’s help to extract revenge (really this is done for any friend that gets hurt by someone else). As mentioned previously, MC does actually enjoy Rowan’s puns, even makes their own puns with them, will sit and listen them to go on and on about whatever they just learned about/researched even if it doesn’t really interest MC because Rowan is so passionate about it, and truly learns more from Rowan helping them with homework than most Professors and lets Rowan know it, constantly praising their intelligence and teaching skills.

Obstacle to Overcome

While MC does feel very fortunate to have met Rowan and have them in their lives, Rowan can sometimes appear maybe a little jealous when MC gets new friends.The growing tension between Rowan and Ben causes problems for MC. On one hand, Ben did attack her and has this strange connection/relationship with R and claims to not remember anything - conveniently - even though everyone else trapped in the Cursed Ice, for example, have not forgotten anything and have perfect memories still! But MC has a hard time believing this scared, helpless thing is an act and does believe Ben was being controlled to attack them and may actually be a victim and unwilling participant instead of a traitor? But maybe it is all a very good act and MC shouldn’t trust them... But Rowan turning against Ben almost instantly and this almost hatred and resentment Rowan seems to have towards Ben, again almost instantly, rubs MC the wrong way like Rowan was waiting for the opportune moment to turn against Ben - is it because they just don’t like Ben, want MC’s friendship to themselves, or because they were looking for someone to cast suspicion on and Ben provided that the quickest. What if this loyal, eager to help friend is really using them and can’t be trusted? Or it’s two friends who have issues with each other/don’t get along. Whatever it is, it puts MC in an awkward situation they don’t like and honestly makes them feel distrustful of both - the whole situation with R makes MC suspicious of most people - and causes them to pull away from them both. Despite this, Rowan is still someone MC turns to for help and someone MC really cares about. Once things with R and the Vaults are cleared up they will be back to being close friends.

(assuming Rowan isn’t R or involved of course - more on R and Rowan later)

#rowan khanna #hphm rowan #hphm #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery squad #hphm mc #jacob's sibling #long post #read more #headcanons #cursed vaults crew #cursed vaults gang #more to come #personal #I'm having a lot of hphm feelings lately

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