#sir your natural enemy the creature of the night is at the table

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

Half way through episode one of Interview With The Vampire and I can't get over the fact that the brother with the personality trait of "Catholic" is coming for his sister's fiance for being the wrong kind of christian when his pimp brother's vampire boyfriend is fully sitting across the table from him looking for an opportunity to give Louis the hickey ever.

#IWTV #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire 2022 #sir your natural enemy the creature of the night is at the table #Catholics are the natural enemies of gay vampires #like they got a good shouting match in but girl #you're mad at him for being a baptist??? #THERE'S A GAY VAMPIRE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU

[blankdblank]

Loki Baby Pt 7

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 -

Wk 21 Prompt - “This isn’t working, is it?”

...

“These should not take more than a week to be completed in full. And we shall be certain to send the tux out first in time for Friday.”

“Thank you.” You both said and in the joining of your hands readying to turn Pietro spoke again.

“I do hope you like the blue suit as well as your old one.” Loki’s lips parted and the man grinned, “I’ll make it nice and roomy for dancing, just like that one you wore to the Swan Club. I’ll even throw in a hat to go with it.” Adding a wink at the end.

“Thank you.” Loki stated kindly and lead led the path out of the shop as you leaned against his side with your free hand resting in the bend in his arm. When the door closed behind you he glanced down at you still grinning loving the halfway supporting role he held in keeping you upright while you molded against him melting the long lasting chill off his skin from years of isolation. “Swan Club?”

With a giggle you glanced up saying, “I’ll take you there.”

“Yes, but, how did he see me dancing in a club I’ve never been to?”

“Time is a funny thing. Pietro, well, he’s one of the few to see it for the wibbly wobbly jar of marbles it is.”

“So he saw the future?”

Again you giggled saying, “In a way.” Loki wet his lips to ask you to clarify only to grow silent in your rise up to peck his cheek sweetly at the car door saying, “It’s a surprise. I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

With a quick flinch of his hand upwards to touch his cheek he brushed his hair back and lowered to slide inside closing the door as he did. Turning his head he asked, “What type of dancing do they do there?”

In your splitting smile you answered, “Swing dancing.”

“Swing-,” he looked you over in his reach to draw out his phone to read the message from Thor asking if he could bring a show he got that the others don’t like. “Ah, Thor is asking to come over.”

“Sounds like fun.”

His eyes landed on you and he said, “Yes. Yes it does.” Holding back how these plans of being alone with Thor greatly impeded his chance to nap with you again. “What will you do?”

“Oh, I’ve got a knob I need to make for one of my boxes.”

“A knob?”

You nodded, “It’s a very special one, has to be precise or disaster to the cosmos and all that.” Making him chuckle as you said, “Pretty thrilling stuff.”

“Indeed.”

 *

“You seem at home already, Brother.”

Loki smirked watching Thor unload his supply of snacks across the coffee table while Loki eyed the disk he added into the open disc tray, “I am. Miss Pear has seen to my every comfort to be so.” A gentle push and the tray closed signaling his turn to find his brother smoothing his hands over the remnants of his belly he had been working off over the past year in his lingering struggle with his once crippling depression Loki had been helping him face.

“I have wronged you. In countless ways.” Loki exhaled and moved to sit by his brother taking his hand to allow him to spill all his pent up thoughts. Again their life had been hashed out, though this time mainly focused on their relationship since his exile. Near an hour Thor spoke and listened to how his friends in his search for their approval to feel right again in his new life banished from his home and listened to Loki and how all of it had affected him and ways they could work to continue improving their bond and respect for one another. When the open wound sat without any more words to say an agreed upon respite was taken and the disc in the player was switched on and the snacks were dished out onto plates with the pair resting their feet up trying to understand the odd Midguardian tale Thor was trying to be fluent in to grow closer to young Parker in his love of it.

He still did seek approval, and was working on his ego, but at least the pair were speaking openly and honestly and trying not to revert to their early days of being set against one another. Thor, never wanting or fully matching the standards for King accepted Loki and their Mother had been managing the Kingdom masterfully and their people had never been more content. He had faced that not being who Odin had hoped him to be did not make him any less and certainly did not give him any rights to have dealt with his jealousy of Loki how he had. Even in scorn and hatred the silver tongued Prince always seemed at ease in dealing with others confidently, a trait Thor ached for even still. But here they sat in a stance to better themselves inside and out.

“Have you shared a bed yet?” The question tore Loki’s eyes to his brother relaxed beside him fueling a rage filled rant to defend your honor only to halt in his adding, “You smell of her is all, more than since your return from Paris.”

“I did fall asleep in her apartment through a film the other day, and a machine of hers has obstructed her pheromones.”

“You speak as if she was a Mare brother, mind your toes.”

Loki rolled his eyes, “That is exactly how Miss Pear explained it to me. Patches were crafted by her for her neck to aid in diluting them. Her natural allure was-,”

Thor chuckled out, “Had I not known better I would name her a succubus. Able to draw in men of any standing or strength to their will. Was it troubling for you? The change?”

Loki exhaled curtly, “You remember your coming of age, the heat?”

Thor nodded, “Father and Mother nearly had me in chains to keep me tolerable.”

“We had decided on breakfast and I simply walked in, and I could feel the same draw to her. Somehow she noticed the effect on me and stepped out to apply her forgotten patch, returning in this wave of apple scent.”

Thor glanced at him again, “It is comforting a scent.”

“True.”

“When you spent the night, where did Miss Pear sleep?” His grin spread in Loki’s catching his gaze and darting glance away crossing his arms over his chest in a heavy exhale, “Keep your secrets then. Quite fond of you, I dare say she would jump at the chance to court you.”

“Now who is telling tall tales?” Loki teased back taking a bite of a chip he had lifted.

Thor smirked saying in a sigh, “All I know is were I to house one so lavishly and requiring nothing but company while verbally battling troubling family and enemies set on attacking the object of such dotage, that would require quite a level of adoration on my part.” Loki’s eyes shifted to land on him timidly making Thor reach over and pat his shoulder, “Stated it plainly in my opinion. Though as usual take your own pace, Brother. You will see it yourself.”

“Why would she wish to be Queen though, were you to be correct in the assumption?”

Thor smirked saying, “No wish at all, you are the prize, Brother, not the crown.” In that Loki’s eyes flinched wider for a moment and he looked forward again to the screen, “Terrifying isn’t it?” Loki glanced at him again, “Jane felt that for me, for a time, then thought worse of me. Miss Pear knows the worst of you and yet openly adorns you with rightly earned adoration. You have an unmatched heart. The woman of your choosing must be mighty in deed to have earned it.”

“Now you sound like Mother.”

“Who is often right.” Making Loki chuckle again.

“Miss Pear is mortal.”

Thor shook his head, “I would not be so certain.” Making Loki look at him, “The photographs Tony has discovered even in the opening of her company, it has been decades and she has not aged a day.” Thor’s eyes shifted over his face and he said, “You have noticed something?”

Loki wet his lips and turned his head to catch his eye, “In our suit shop appointment the old man mentioned her at a club he frequented in the Second World War. Only,”

“What?”

“He mentioned seeing me there. With Miss Pear in a blue suit and hat like the one he is crafting for me.”

Thor’s brows furrowed, “How is that possible? We were not allowed to travel to Midguard in that time gap.”

Loki shrugged, “Miss Pear stated she would take me sometime, and that I would see what the man had talked about, that it was a surprise.”

Thor shook his head in a shrug, “Then all that is left is to allow her to surprise you. Discovering what life the creature is hiding.”

Loki, “I only hope that truth is still far from deserving of Tony’s mistrust.”

Thor chuckled, “Tony is often wrong. He will see her character and adjust in time.”

 *

“This isn’t working, is it?” Scott turned the pen over in his palm again in a deep sigh then practiced again, “Mr Stark, I have your pen!” Again a snicker had broken free after his own inspection of the pen had named its secrets clearly chosen to irritate Stark.

Up into Stark tower he strode and straight for the elevator he rode up to the top floor and beamed in Tony’s distraction to set the pen down, “One pen, as promised.”

A simple pass of a check and a quick grin later Tony said, “Thank you. I trust this will be handled with the utmost discretion?”

Scott nodded, “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Sir. I will leave you to your investigation.” Turning around in Tony’s lifting the pen with a spreading smirk he gained a smirk of his own heading back to the metal box that was step one of the trip home.

.

His smirk soon traded for an irritated scowl as the pen sat in front of him and the smirking Dr Banner and Dr Strange tried not to snicker at what the pen had been revealed to do. The crystal end was no more than a fancy flashlight with a setting to project funny cat clips complete with a hidden dial to play cat sounds from the hidden speaker.

Again Tony’s brow twitched and he said, “I have to be missing something.”

Dr Strange, “Or it could just be a novelty pen in a fancy suit.”

Bruce, “She does seem the sort to enjoy a good cat clip every now and again. Maybe it helps her to focus on life when work gets too hard.”

Tony stood up, “Maybe Vision can see something in it I can’t.” Turning to go find the endlessly informed one in question he left freeing the duo to burst into bubbling laughter at how much he was working himself up over this pen supposedly being more than it was.

Pt 8

#Tale Teller’s 52 Week Writing Challenge #Loki x Reader OC

[queensdivas]

A Damned Soul Chapter 2 (A Gwil Fan Fic)

It’s all coming together! WHOOP WHOOP! If you would like to be tagged please let me know! If you got requests on one of the Bohrap boys or the dads! Please feel free to request! I hope you all enjoy because holy shit this is getting fun to write! 

@mexifangorl @leah-halliwell92 @bonafiderocketqueen @i-live-for-queen @its-funny-til-its-not @b-i-g-i-r-l-b-i @teathymewithben @mayofbrian @brianmydear @i-live-for-queen 

Previous Chapter 

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Masterlist 

He viewed the world as the first cinematograph when he would be walking around this mortal world. The people in constant motion, the quality of viewing, and even trying to add the old piano music along for the ride. It was the only thing that was keeping him sane before walking into a church to drown himself in holy water. 

Fixing his black gloves as the coat man took his cloak off the from the hanger. He placed his dark purple hat on top of his head then prepared himself for the walk out to start his day. Breakfast was on his mind Walking out to the cool evening as the world changed into the fast moving of what he saw. 

Till his eyes drifted to her..is when the reality of how the world looks would come back to his sight. Hundreds of times he’s witnessed this moment...words still manage to fall short in this instance. It was how she carried herself around the world when he would see her. Always walking with a destination to go..strong footsteps..not light like some kind of fae.

To him..she was an absolute Goddess…

She walked down the street with a basket full of pastries to take home with her which I’m assuming was her little herb shop down the street from my home. Till a bum came running behind her, pushing her down and snatching her basket. 

“Thank you for the free pastries! You bitch!” He screamed as I held my cane up to hit him on his leg, collapsing before me and basically rolling all over the sidewalk in pain. Grabbing the basket from the ground as she dusted off her dress then smiling as I handed her basket back to her. 

“Ummm..thank you Sir Lee.” Her eyes always looked down when we would first come into contact. But never doing the lifting of the chin so we could meet. It was seeing her standing before me in embarrassment or even humility. 

The sunset was causing a little sunburned was beginning form which was time for me to get into the next building. Tipping my hat to her as I moved swiftly past her but her eyes lingering as they always do after we first meet.. 

“Wait..Sir Lee..if it’s not too much of a burden..may I ask… Oh never mind you look like in a hurry.” 

“No please..your want is my command.” She gulped as she hid her face again from me..I don’t mean to frighten her. Just these precious moments seem to fly by so damn quickly. 

“I know it’s not far..but will you please walk me home..if it’s out of your way then never mind. Oh never mind you’re too busy!” She scurried off before I could even give her my answer..which will always be yes.... 

When it comes to the sunlight and vampires. It is your enemy yes..but you won’t burst into a pile ashes with being in it. Eventually they become a little resistant to it so going outside to the world with the sun won't kill them. It’ll hurt a little bit at first so basically it’s like they’re getting a very bad sunburn. Luckily for Gwil. He’d been alive since the 7th century so the sun hadn’t been a major issue to keep himself alive. Still hurts after a little bit. 

In his bright red 63’ Corvette Stingray which stuck out like a sore thumb, traveling up along the coast in the strong winds of the night traveling along with him. He was determined that this would be the last time..or would just stay outside on the sunniest day of the year.

Parking at the cottage as the sun was already setting creating a gorgeous orange backdrop of what he would be viewing for when he wakes up from his slumber. The realtor came out of the cottage with her perky smile on her face and a large yellow folder for all the paperwork he has to sign. 

“Mr. Lee! It’s truly a pleasure doing business with you!” She shook my hand with her eyes trailing up and down my body. I can’t tell you how many damn times these women just keep staring at me like I’m some sort of eye candy to them. Quite revolting.

“Now you’re more than welcome to walk around to see how the movers got everything put together and ready to go.” This isn’t the first home I’ve had to buy over the millennials. Usually my home has been a castle, some large mansion, and large flat on a square. 

Sitting on top of the hill the cottage sat that was a pearl white color but was also a little into the hill so the top would be covered in grass. Keeps a nice natural temperature for the house. My new home was a little smaller than most of the grand places I’ve lived before. As in it’s not a castle, a mansion, or even large flat on the square. It had a living room, a bedroom that is pitch black..for obvious reasons. No kitchen which makes the living room much larger. Then of course a bathroom. 

“Now regarding the whole no kitchen. I can always expand the cottage for some room for a tiny little kitc.

“No kitchen needed. I plan on doing most of my cooking outside so to enjoy the view.” Lying to her as she nodded then placed the paperwork I needed to finish signing on the living room table. Scribbling down my signature on the lines so I could get this woman out of my hair. I’ve got things to start working on before tomorrow evening when she should be shopping for the catch of the day. 

“Please doing business with you mam and I hope we can do business again.” Practically shoving her out of the cottage then locking the door tightly. Might as well get some rest before I go grab some dinner.

The curtains were shut all over the living room of the cottage as I walked over to the record player. Usually some very light chants get me to fall asleep after a move such as this. Pressing the play button as the house was beginning to fill with beautiful music. 

IF it’s one thing I miss about the 13th century was the vast amount of chants that were sung all Sundays. Thought entering a church would practically be a death sentence for myself..walking by them in the early mornings after a night of hunting was always pleasurable. 

Entering into the bedroom to see a very large cat sitting in the middle of my bed. His tail softly moving on top of the covers, those very yellow green eyes were staring directly at me..as if he was planning on pouncing at any moment. Cats in this world are very interesting. The whole “cats have nine lives” is very real and to the point some cats have been with me for a very long time...all annoying with their meows and purs. 

“Look. As much as I love cats and all the so called happiness you bring to this world. I would prefer not to have you in my home. So c’mon.” Standing at the edge of the bed but he wasn’t moving an inch..stubborn feline! 

“Alright then you stubborn feline.” My hands reaching down to him as he began squinting at me. 

“Call me a feline again..I dare you ya bloody blood sucker!” Did...did he just talk…? That’s so damn impossible! I must be tired and a little bit of a headache most likely because I’m hungry! 

“Shocked to see a feline talking to you?” 

“HOLY SHIT!” Falling to the floor as I backed myself to the dresser! Stopping so that he wouldn’t pounce at me to scratch my eyes out!

“How the!?! What the!?” 

“Your really going to question why I’m talking? We live in a world with vampires, witches, and other mythical creatures. Is a talking cat really so bizarre that you threw yourself against the dresser?” He had a thick American accent which stung like a viper somehow! Still sitting on top of my bed but closer to the edge so we could have some sort of eye contact. 

“If I say yes...I get the feeling you’ll scratch my eyes out.” He sat in the middle of my legs. His ears pointed straight up as I tried to get this entire situation in my head. Like I said..I’ve had cats follow me around..but none of them have ever had some sort of conversation! 

“So you’re a talking cat...and you’re bothering me because…?” 

“I’ve heard of you before. You’re very famous for your tragic story. To some fellow immortals your story makes even Elvis Presley sad.” Elvis is alive? 

“Elvis is alive? I thought he died in 1970 or something…?” Rolling his eyes as he got down from the bed and even appeared bigger than what he was on the bed. His grey fur was very fluffy and his paws were massive for a cat. 

“You’re missing the point you idiot! Those of us who have been wandering this world since the beginning have seen heart aches and the destruction. But you..oh boy have you inspired the masses.” For an American cat his vocabulary is better than what I thought it would be. 

“So you’re bothering me because I inspired the masses?” 

“Nope. I’m here to help your dumbass because after watching this fail countless times..it’s now just utterly depressing.” This cat is making me feel absolutely stupid! A stupid cat is making me feel so god damn stupid! 

“You may call me Hyacinth! That’s what my last owner called me and I’ve liked the way it sounds. Now I’ve got to grab some dinner and your stomach growling is flooding my ears. So let’s go find some sort of grub!” Prancing off into the living room as I stayed there in shock. His head poking back into the room with annoyance written all over his face. 

Opening the door as he walked out to the front porch, looking around the coast before us. I’m feeling elk. DO you think I go running around eating whatever virgin blood is available? I got tired of human blood around the 14th century...mostly because that nasty plague.

We started walking along the coast in silence..trying to read each other’s thoughts, emotions, and not wanting to attack each other. He doesn’t plan on staying around does he? I need to get on with my life and this cat will get in the way with it! 

“So..Hyacinth. I know you said you’re here to help...but why and how do you plan on helping me?” We stopped walking as he entered the water a little then began searching for some sort of fish. 

“Like I said. Some of us have had enough of what happens. You think you’re alone in this world..but you’re not the only ones who’ve been completely thrown under the bus. We figured if we start with you..eventually we can all finally have some sort of peace in our lives. A spark has to..” He stopped to dive his head down then pulled out a tiny fish in his mouth. 

Their pools of blood crept into my nose with my eyes turning dark red. They’re so close..small animals have been doing the trick..but they’re so..juicy! A white cloudy trail appeared before me that would lead me to those Elk! I could distinctly hear their calm heart beats which was like hearing Beethovens symphony’s for the time! Loud! And so damn desirable! 

Squatting on the rock from a short distance to see their blood vessels flowing through each of their bodies. Which one was diseased, weak, pregnant, and the healthiest. My tongue grazing against my lips, my fangs beginning to grow from hunger. It's been so long since I’ve been fully filled..

It’s come down to the point where drinking human blood is just gross. Most humans blood these days are filled with so much damn sugar, diseases, drugs, and even to much damn coffee. But animal blood..no..wild animal blood that live on the richness of nature it was fuels me now. Mostly small animals..since I’ve been living in areas where Elk just don’t come to live in your backyard. 

Hyacinth wandered over to where I was drowning myself in my delectable meal. Once finished, he sat down next to me as I sat up. Licking the blood off my lips then beginning to clean myself up. 

“As she ever seen your true form?” Catching my breath as he looked up at me. 

“Yes..every time. She never cowards away..”

“I think I’m beginning to hatch a scheme for us. Oh yes..it’s all coming together.” 

#gwilym lee #gwil #Gwil lee #gwilym x reader #gwilym x oc #vampire fic #vamp gwil #better than twilight #bohrap #it's a bohrap boy #joe mazzello #ben hardy #rami malek #gwil x reader #gwilym lee x reader

[ashtheshortstack]

Garlic in the Cauldron - Ch 2

Garlic in the Cauldron

Adrien Agreste learned from a young age that witches were the enemies to vampires. He was taught to kill on sight, drink them dry, and never look back… however, meeting a witch named Marinette threw his entire world off balance.

Ch 2 - Some Call it Magic

Read on ao3

<-Previous Chapter/Next Chapter –>

Hi, my dumb ass forgot to post this on tumblr last Thursday.

Sleeping was often a difficult task for Adrien, mostly because nightmares often plagued him. He’d often relive situations with his father, but his dreams would make them much more sinister and eerie. He felt a pain in his chest every time he’d awake from one of those intense night terrors. Sometimes he’d dream of witches capturing him and tormenting him, sometimes it was his father scolding him and leaving him to rot. There was no telling what type of torment his brain could concoct for him while he slept.

However, it had been a few nights since he’d met Marinette, and his brain had been oddly calm and kind to him. No vicious terrors or relived trauma for a few nights was a blessing for sure. He hadn’t expected to have a sweet dream of a giggling witch holding his hands with a faint blush on her freckled nose, that was for sure. But when he awoke with a smile on his face for the first time he could remember, he was thankful to have met her. He simply longed to find her again.

“Well, Romeo, that’s a love struct look if I’ve ever seen one,” Plagg teased as he hopped onto the bed beside the young vampire.

Adrien couldn’t stop the embarrassed flush that kissed his cheeks and the small smile that twitched its way to his lips. “Maybe,” he glanced out into the dark room. “It’s not fair. She shouldn’t be allowed to be so pretty.”

Plagg made a gagged sound. “Gross.”

Ignoring his familiar’s distaste, Adrien gaze a dream-dazed sigh. “You think I can see her again soon?”

The cat gave a hunched shrug. “Possibly. Your pops is going hunting again tonight, right?”

With an eager nod, Adrien beamed and checked the clock. He had about an hour before his father would leave. He hoped Marinette would be awake like she was the other night when they met. Maybe she’d be out flying again if he was lucky. He did worry about their sleep schedules being different effecting if he could visit her often. Witches may not need to be active at night like vampires did.

It was part of the life of being a “mythical” being. There was always a catch to their existence. For vampires, it was being allergic to many things, including sunlight. The one time Adrien even attempted to go out during the afternoon, he’d developed the worst rash of his life. Full of blistering hives and burnt skin. He remembered the pain and sobbing as his mother rubbed cream on the raw skin.

In retrospect, he really hadn’t realized how little he knew about witches until he started wondering how to maintain a friendship with one.

To his surprise, Adrien’s door creaked open and there stood Nathalie. Her arms were folded behind her back as usual, posture straight, and nose in the air. “Adrien, your father would like to see you.”

He tensed, sucking in a nervous breath. “May I ask what about?”

“I’m afraid I’m unaware of the nature of his request. I was only told to come fetch you,” she said with a shake of her head.

He slipped out of bed and paused, glancing down at his attire. “Should I get dressed?”

Nathalie gave him a pity smile. “I don’t think this is a proper matter, but he did sound urgent. Let’s go,” she said with a motion of her hand.

Adrien nodded, giving Plagg a quick concerned glance before following Nathalie out the door and down the halls. When she approached his father’s den, the crushing iron smell of blood hit Adrien’s nostrils. The scent was overwhelming to his senses, so much it almost gave him a headache. Adrien blinked away the watering in his eyes as Nathalie opened the door.

“I retrieved Adrien as you requested, sir.”

Gabriel spun in his chair, sitting straight with a whine glass full of bright red liquid that Adrien was positive wasn’t actually whine. His father’s elongated fangs protruded from his upper lip. Technically, as vampires got older, they could adjust the length of their fangs depending on the prey. Adrien just thought it was gaudy and something his father did just to appear more intimidating. Plus, he was still on the younger side, so Adrien wasn’t quite able to control his fangs yet.  

“Ah, I see that Nathalie just woke you,” his father sounded a bit amused, however, his face didn’t show the same. His brows stayed straight; eyes still as cold as ever.

Gulping, Adrien gave a polite nod. “Yes, Father. She said it was urgent that you speak to me.”

“Yes,” Gabriel took a sip of his glass before setting it down on his desk. His father properly folded his hands on the table, keeping sharp eyes on his son. Adrien felt the stare ripple through him. “Nathalie tells me you haven’t been leaving your room much lately. I’m concerned that you’re not getting enough substance in your diet. Blood is an important part of your consumption, and I fear you’ll fall into a frenzy if you don’t maintain it.”

“Oh, I’ve been drinking blood, Father, I promise. I just prefer eating solid foods. If there’s anyway we can make the blood more tolerable, then I’m sure I’d… consume enough,” Adrien explained. He decided to ignore the tidbit about staying in his room. Of course, he was staying in his room more. Plagg was much better company than the servant members of their clan. Nathalie didn’t like to humor him often, and the Gorilla didn’t speak at all.

“Son, we’re not humans. Eating human foods is not what sustains us. I know you’ve always been hesitant about drinking blood, but it’s what we must do. If you’re so insistent on cutting down on blood, then maybe I should start reserving some witch blood for yo—”

“No!”

Gabriel looked aghast at his son’s sudden outburst. Adrien froze, eyes wide and shoulders stiff. He was surprised himself. He hadn’t meant to burst out like that, but the thought of drinking witches’ blood was a hard no for him. Especially since he had just met one who he wanted to befriend. That sounded… immoral.

“S-Sorry,” he muttered, voice hoarse. “I’m just not interested in witch blood, Father.”

His father let out a hum, leaning over the desk. “I understand that new things tend to make you nervous. However, you will be carrying on my legacy one day, you realize. I suggest you get used to the scent and taste of it soon. Witch blood satisfies our thirst much longer than human blood does. It’s something to consider.”

Adrien swallowed thickly but bobbed his head in understanding. “Father, I don’t mean to disrespect you, but I’m still uncomfortable with the thought of hurting others in order to get their blood. I’m fine with getting blood already packaged instead of feeding.”

A chill went down his spine as his father snickered. “Adrien, don’t forget what you are. We are vampires. We are at the top of the food chain. Humans, witches, and all creatures fear us.” Gabriel tapped the table as he spoke. “That is a reputation I intend on upholding.”

“Yes, Father,” Adrien replied robotically. Licking his lips, he gained a breath. “I will make sure that I’m taking care of myself as well.”

His father smirked, fangs gleaming with pride. It made Adrien uneasy to see his father in this predatory state. He just wanted to leave. Wanted to run away as fast as he could.

“Good, son. I’m glad we understand each other,” Gabriel stood, grabbing his cup and gulping down it’s contents. The smell was so potent. That wasn’t human blood, Adrien knew that for sure. His father harshly plopped the glass back onto the desk. “I will be leaving to hunt. We found a new coven recently, and I intend to make the most of it.”

Adrien’s heart fell, but he hoped his face didn’t show it. He felt his throat tighten. Please, not Marinette’s coven. That’s all he wished. Not hers.

“I expect that you’ll drink plenty of blood this evening, correct?”

His body felt heavy. “Yes, sir,” he murmured.

Had he made her coven a target by visiting? Did he leave her scent for his father to track? Adrien certainly prayed that was not the case. His father bid him farewell, telling him to go eat and be more aware of his blood intake. Adrien followed him from the office and watched him conjugate with the fellow clan members in the foyer.

All eyes were on him. The high clan members stared him down. Their gazes unwavering as he started down the stairs. He was stunned, though, to see his childhood friend standing among the members.

“Chloe?” he asked, mostly to himself.

His eyes were wide as she gave him a smirk and a tiny wave with her fingers. She wasn’t allowed to leave the group, so Adrien approached her instead. “Hey Adrikins,” she cooed.

“Chloe, what are you doing here?”

The blonde cocked a brow at him. She scoffed. “What do you mean? I’m hunting with the clan. What’s it look like?”

Blinking, Adrien definitely wore his confusion on his face. “You’re hunting? We’re too young to join the elders for the hunt.”

Her posture changed, body loosening and her snobby posture changing to that of concern. “What? That’s ridiculous. We’re allowed to start hunting at sixteen.”

“Oh,” was all he could manage. His voice cracked a bit, his head hung low and the view of his shoes became a much better sight to behold than Chloe.

“Speaking of which, are you not joining us again this evening?” she asked as if she hadn’t just dropped an atomic bomb on him.

“I…I guess I’m not.”

He certainly recalled his father telling him that it would be years until he was old enough to hunt. Not that Adrien really wanted to, yet the fact that his father clearly thought so lowly of his abilities made him feel shameful. Swallowing, he gathered what little was left of his shattered pride. “I-I’ll see you later. Good luck.”

He left. Adrien started slowly, but once he was out of eyesight, he sprinted to his room. Slamming the door behind him, he leaned back against it, sliding down it slowly He groaned the entire way down. Hurt. Betrayal. Confusion. All of it swarmed in his gut. Was he really that much of a wimp to his father? He could have started hunting two years prior and never was there even any mention of it. Was he a burden? A nuisance? His father didn’t want to deal with him on the hunt.

Gabriel lied to him. Constantly telling him he was too young. Too inexperienced. That couldn’t have been it at all. How was he to get experience if his father never let him leave the mansion!? How dare he!?

“Woah, Adrien, you okay?”

Adrien opened his eyes to see Plagg’s concerned gaze. At least someone in this place cared about him. In a way, he guessed he should be grateful for his father’s decision. He would’ve never met Marinette, and if he was just like any other vampire, then Plagg probably wouldn’t have stuck around.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. Did you know that vampires start hunting at sixteen? And I’m eighteen and my father has just… conveniently forgotten to mention it for the last two years?” Adrien said, curling his knees to his chest.

Plagg trotted into the vampire’s lap. “I can’t say I know much about vampire traditions, but I can say that I don’t think you’d be the kid I know now if you were like the rest of your clan.”

He couldn’t help but smile and give Plagg a scratch under his chin. The familiar let out a brief purr, soothing Adrien’s heartache a little. “Thanks, Plagg.”

Opening his eyes, Plagg’s voice went flat. “What did he want?”

Rolling his eyes, Adrien sighed. “The usual scolding of me living my life. Father can’t seem to accept I’m not a blood-thirsty monster like he is. He yelled at me for not drinking enough. He even offered me witch blood, but I said no.”

Placing a paw on Adrien’s shoulder, the familiar smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

Adrien grinned. “I knew you liked me! You just pretend to be annoyed.”

“Ugh! Shut up,” Plagg pounced away and put a distance between the two of them. The familiar could pretend all he wanted, but Adrien knew he cared about him. “Anyway! Weren’t you wanting to visit a certain witch?”

Gasping, Adrien jumped to his feet. “Plagg! My father said he found a new coven! You don’t think I led him right to them, do you?”

Plagg hissed and started towards the window. “The likelihood is low. That’s the most protected coven in the area. We should check though. Your father should have left by now, so let’s go.”

Adrien watched the familiar shrink down small, taking his tiny form and floating towards the window. He followed suit by transforming into a bat, flapping his wings to catch up with the familiar. The two took off through the window. Adrien looked down and saw his clan marching off together in the opposite direction. He felt slight relief washing over him. If they were going a different way, then hopefully it wasn’t Marinette’s coven that they found.

 ________________________________________________________________

 Adrien was thankful to see Marinette’s coven still intact when he and Plagg approached it. All of the witches still seemed carefree and happy with their families. There seemed to be a street market this that day. Witches were exchanging goods in carts. It was probably potion materials.

“They look fine,” he mused.

Plagg hummed in agreement. “Yeah. If you’re going to meet Marinette, you should probably find somewhere just outside of the coven.”

“You’re right, but I have to find her first.”

Plagg chuckled. “We already have.”

Adrien’s head shot up. The familiar was right. None other than Marinette was soaring on her broom again. Her familiar was perched on her shoulder as they flew. It appeared that they were conversing with one another. Adrien hated to interrupt… no. Actually. He didn’t. He was just too excited to see her.

Flapping his wings, he sped up to catch up to her. “Marinette!” he called.

She perked up at the sound of her name. The witch glanced around, trying to find the source of the voice.

“Marinette!” he repeated as he finally fluttered beside her. She turned, making eye contact with him. “Hey,” he said.

Marinette shrieked. Her broom wobbled as she lost concentration. She leaned forward, gripping the broom as it began to sputter and fly back and forth in the air. His heart pounded. He hadn’t meant to scare her!

Granted, maybe approaching her as a talking bat wasn’t the best of ideas.

Her broom began descending quickly. Marinette wound her legs around it and pulled back on the handle in an apparent attempt to slow down the falling broom. It didn’t help much. She was dropping quickly towards a bundle of trees just outside of the coven streets. He couldn’t just let her crash into a tree! She’d be a witch pancake if she hit a trunk too hard.

“Hang on! I got you!” Adrien called as Marinette continued her panicked maneuvers.

Her broom caught between two branches, the momentum sending the witch flying forward. Adrien moved quickly, changing out of his bat form in midair, and catching Marinette in his arms. He clutched her to his chest as his back slammed on the ground. He skidded across the dirt, shoulders digging into the surface as his legs wound around Marinette, keeping her still. They came to rapid halt when Adrien’s back rammed into a tree.

With a grunt, Adrien grabbed his head. He breathed heavily, huffing to catch his breath. Cracking an eye open, he looked down at a flustered Marinette. Her cheeks were red, eyes wide, mouth agape. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She jumped off him, scooching away with arms held up in front of her. “Oh, my God! Are you okay?”

Adrien sat up with a chuckle, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head from the blow. “I’m okay. Vampires are pretty sturdy.”

“I didn’t know you could turn into a bat!” she exclaimed, obviously still stunned by the whole ordeal.

With a nervous laugh, he looked down at his lap. “S-Sorry, it was an accident—”

“Well, you should be sorry!” her little bug familiar piped in. “She crashed her broom again and it was your fault! She could have been killed!”

Jeez. The little creature sure knew how to make him feel like shit. “I didn’t mean—”

Marinette sighed, snatched the red familiar away from him. “Tikki, lay off. It was my fault. I lost focus so my broom lost control. Leave Adrien alone.” She glanced at Plagg, who had returned to his cat form. “Why don’t you two go play nice?” Marinette smiled as she shooed her familiar over towards Plagg.

“Fine,” Tikki grumbled and began floating towards Plagg. “But I’m still watching you,” she finished giving Adrien one last glare.

Damn. That ice-cold look sent a shiver down his spine. He’d never felt so hated before. It wasn’t like Adrien didn’t understand. He did almost kill her owner twice now…

Marinette scooted closer, taking a seat beside him. He couldn’t help how his heart seemed to beat faster when she was around. Adrien glanced away anxiously. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” she said and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I understand.”

Adrien looked up, smiling slightly. Why did she make him so nervous? He couldn’t understand it. “Do you make it a habit to crash your broom often?”

She let out a sweet laugh shaking her head in earnest. “No, I only seem to do that when a certain vampire is around”

He couldn’t help the laugh that spilled out. “Maybe, I should leave you alone then?”

“No,” she said immediately. Marinette gave him a kind pat on the shoulder. “I think I’ll survive.”

Sitting up straighter, Adrien puffed up his chest. “Well, I did save you.”

She let out a snort. “Yeah, uh huh. We’ll call it even since you tried to drink my blood a few days ago.”

With a grimace, Adrien clenched his jaw. She didn’t have to remind him. He’d been living with the guilt ever since he did it. “Sorry about that… again.”

“It’s okay. It meant something to you. I was an easy target. Besides, I think it worked out the end for us, right? I made a new friend out of the whole ordeal,” Marinette chimed with a smile.

He didn’t deserve to be in the presence of such a kind heart. Adrien wasn’t sure how he got so lucky so meet her. Nodding, he agreed. “Right.”

There was beat of silence. Adrien wasn’t quite sure what to say. He’d been so excited to see her again that he hadn’t considered that the whole interaction might be awkward. He didn’t know what to talk about. She kept calling him a friend, but he wasn’t sure what friends did. Or how to interact. The only girl he’d ever spoke to was Chloe, and that was more him telling her what to do rather than a mutual friendship.

“Sooooo, um. I wasn’t really prepared on what to say,” she started, sucking on her bottom lip.

Adrien ruffled his hair at the base of his neck. “Yeah, me neither. I didn’t mean to make this weird.”

“No, no! You’re okay. Let’s try to make it not weird. Why not just… talk about each other’s kind? Obviously, I don’t know much about vampires since you’re the first one I’ve ever seen. I know the general look, the ears, the fangs, but I didn’t know you could turn into a bat.”

Adrien hummed. “Well, vampires have three forms. Our natural form is the one I’m in right now.”

“Huh. I didn’t know vampires had so many special tricks. I thought you guys just… growled and drank blood.”

He snorted with a grin. “I only growl sometimes. Anddd, I have plenty of special tricks. Like we have very good sense of smell and we can control our teeth.”

She cocked a brow. “Control your teeth?”

He nodded lifting his lip with a finger to show his fangs. “We can control our fangs eventually. It’s like an adjustment for the size of the prey. I’m technically too young to be able to do that yet.” Or so he thought. Could just be another lie made up by his father.

She looked at him with disbelief. “Huh. That’s… cool, I guess. Have yours ever, I don’t know, just popped out before?”

“I guess? Mine have only gotten longer when I drink blood or go into a frenzy.”

Marinette let out a nervous laugh, glancing away from him and rubbing her arm slowly. “Yeah, I’ve heard about those.”

Adrien did his best to comfort her with a small smile. “Don’t worry. I have a decent control over mine. It’s been almost a year since I’ve done that. As long as I maintain a good diet, I’m fine.”

“Oh? And what’s a good vampire diet consist of? Maybe, I need tips,” she giggled.

Needed tips? For what? She was beautiful.

He chuckled. “Oh yeah? Well, you may have to take a liking to blood since that’s mostly what we consume. But with a bit of human food. Like…” he paused to think. “You know the stereotype that human models barely eat anything? It’s like that. I only eat a small portion a day then drink blood the rest of the time. If I eat too much normal food, I’ll get sick.”

She seemed so genuinely interested. Marinette nodded in agreement, tapping a finger on her chin. “Oohhh. Huh. That must suck. I love eating sweets until I can’t taste salt anymore,” she replied with a giggle. She looked him over and smirked before tilting her head. “Witches eat people food, if you were wondering.”

“Really? And here I thought you guys ate rats you stewed in a cauldron. Sometimes human children if they stumble upon your secluded homes in the woods,” he mused.

He was worried that he had overstepped with that joke when she stayed silent for a moment. She stared at him as he gave her a simple hint of a smirk. Marinette sputtered before snickering behind her hand. “Oh, you’re joking.”

Barking out a laugh, Adrien grinned. “I was. Unless…”

She gave him a playful push to the shoulder. “Shut up.”

Adrien couldn’t help the joy the teasing and laughing brought to him. He paused, smiling at her as Marinette caught his gaze. Those bluebells sent him into a daze. She was so pretty. No one should be allowed to be so gorgeous. Her skin was like porcelain, the faint freckles that dusted her nose were too cute. His heart fluttered as her eyes bore into his.

Marinette’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned away. “A-Anyway, you were saying? About vampires?” she asked with a sideways glance.

“R-Right, um, yeah. Where was I?”

“Hmm,” she tapped a finger to her bottom lip. Adrien was ashamed to admit he tracked the motion, enthralled with how pink and pouty those lips were. “You were saying that vampires have three forms, right?”

“Oh! Yeah. So, this form, the bat form, and then… uh… the one that’s both? I don’t think we have a name for it, necessarily. It’s not used very often. I’ve—I’ve never actually done it before,” Adrien confessed. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to tell her about the third form. It wasn’t known that vampires had the third form. Most people who witnessed it… didn’t live to tell.

“Wait, so… what is it? You’re vampire but a bat too?”

Adrien hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I’d look like this but with some added bat features.”

Marinette sat up, scooching to sit in front of him instead of to his side. She definitely seemed interested in his life. It was flattering to him. “Does that mean you sprout wings?”

“Yeah. We have wings and claws. I think fangs tend to get longer too. Plus, the red eyes,” he explained. He bit his lip to hide the chuckle from bubbling out. She looked so at awe at the information coming out of his mouth.

“Red eyes?” she asked.

“Yeah. Our eyes tend to turn red when we frenzy too… Or when—” he stopped, tongue heavy in his mouth.

“When…?”

“When vampires drink witches’ blood,” he finished reluctantly. The sorrowful look on her face didn’t help matters. He wished he hadn’t brought it up at all.

Marinette stayed silent, staring down at her lap. “Do you drink it too?”

“No!” he said quickly with a shake of his head. God, that was the last thing he wanted her to think. He’d never had it. Never wanted it. He saw how… eccentric it made the other vampires. It seemed like too much of a boost. He was afraid of it. The only reason he was going to drink from Marinette was to prove to his father he wasn’t useless. After the information he learned today, that effort may have been futile anyway.

“You don’t? You’ve never?”

“No, I’ve never drank it,” Adrien insisted. She still seemed wary of him, fiddling with her fingers in her lap and avoiding eye contact. With a quick glance over at the conversing familiars, Adrien gestured to Plagg. “Hey! Plagg can vouch for me. Have I ever had witches’ blood?”

Plagg shook his head. “Nope, never. His dad even yelled at him about it today. He came back to his room upset about it.”

Adrien gave the cat a flat glare. “All you had to say was ‘no.’ I didn’t ask for the details of my life to be shared, thank you.”

After giving the familiar a small smile, Marinette gave him a concerned gaze. “Does your father yell at you often?”

Giving a lopsided shrug, he glanced away. “It’s… just something he does,” he murmured. There was a beat of silence. He glanced up, meeting the troubled look that glowed in those beautiful blue irises of hers. He didn’t want this to become a pity party for him. He’d already dealt with him enough that evening. Sucking in a breath, Adrien popped up straight and forcing a cheerier tone. “A-Anyway! Is there anything I should know about witches?”

Marinette seemed to get the hint to drop the subject. She recollected herself, sitting up straighter. “U-Uh, well! We have lots of festivals. We tend to visit one another often. Covens are very close-knit communities that spend a lot of time together. We all have familiars, obviously,” she said gesturing to her grumpy familiar. Her arms flailed wildly as she spoke. Adrien couldn’t help but find all of her mannerisms to be super adorable. “We… don’t melt when you throw water on us.”

“Oh, good to know,” he snickered.

“Yeah, so if you were planning to off me by throwing me in a lake, you’re going to have to find another way.”

With a grin, he shook his head. “I would never,” he said softly. Her cheeks flushed a little as her mouth formed a small o shape. Maybe that was too sincere for a time while they were still getting to know each other. Clearing his throat, he fiddled with his hair. “I-If you were trying to get rid of me by shucking me out into the sun, I won’t turn to dust. I just get a rash. Like a bad sunburn. Makes me sneeze too.”

Marinette laughed. “ So, that’s why you come here at night?”

He nodded.

She perked at that, tapping her chin with a hum. “You know, there’s a lot of legends and rumors about what hurts vampires. What if you just correct a lot of those for me… like… a question lightning round?”

He snorted but didn’t hesitate. “Sure.”

“Hmmm… okay. Is a stake to the heart the actual only way to kill a vampire?”

“Uh, that’d kill anybody, Marinette.”

“Are you actually dead?”

“No, we have blood and we’re living. It just pumps slower because our chemical make-up is different.”

“Does that mean you live forever?”

“No. Just longer than the average human.”

“What? Really? Us too!”

“How old?”

“About to two hundred or so?”

“Huh. Vampires too.”

“Nice!” she held a fist out, gazing at him expectantly.

Adrien blinked before slowly lifting his fist to bump his knuckle against hers. She beamed happily at him, and he couldn’t help but find her smile so infectious. He laughed. A laugh of pure joy and happiness. Something he hadn’t felt since his mother was around. He’d hardly known this girl, but jeez she made him so thrilled to exist.

“S-So, uh,” he seemed to find his voice again, beginning to speak. “Got anymore juicy secrets about witches?” God, he just needed the subject off of him for a moment. A breather would be nice.

“Well, obviously, we live high class lives full of high-quality food stewed in caldrons. We also have professional broom riding,” she boasted with a puff of her chest.

Adrien leaned back against the tree, crossing his arms. “I take it that’s not your hobby.”

Scoffing, she feigned a hurt expression and pressed a palm to her chest. “Honestly, how dare you assume that. You don’t think I’m good enough to be a professional?”

“Considering when I first met you, you crashed your broom on a clear night, yeah. I would assume that,” his voice oozed so much sarcasm.

Marinette cracked a smile. “Yeah, well, who needs professional broom riding anyway? I don’t see how they do it. Broom riding takes so much focus and energy. I can’t stay on one as long as they do.”

“It’s okay. I think that’s a special quality about you.”

Her cheeks dusted rose and she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “You think so?”

Adrien sat up, smiling as he did so. “Yeah, one of many.”

Gazing at him with those blue eyes, smile turned shy. “I have special qualities?”

“Yeah, of course you do. Obviously, you’re brave and a little crazy for even wanting to talk to me after the whole… uh, incident. You’re pretty, charming, and funny. I like being around you. And—uh—I wouldn’t mind meeting up with you more. And learning more about you. So that I can find more special qualities to tell you about.”

Marinette nodded, the sweet expression never leaving her face. “Okay. How about we meet again right here tomorrow?”

“You… really want to?”

Smiling, a hesitant hand hovered over his shoulder to shyly pat him. Adrien pretended the slight, gentle touch didn’t send tingles through his skin to his chest. Her voice was soft, the tender gaze never leaving her face. “Yeah, I do.”

Her grin was infectious as Adrien couldn’t help the twitching of his lips. “I’d like that.” Pausing, he turned away from her for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. Leaning over towards her, he cupped his hand around his mouth in a mock whisper. “Between you and me… I don’t have any friends?”

Marinette let out an exaggerated gasp. “Really?” she asked, flopping her hands on her lap. “I really would have never known.”

Adrien laughed. “Yeah. What a surprise, right?”

“Well,” she said glancing away for a moment. “You do now.”

 _______________________________________________________________

 “See, Tikki, I told you,” Marinette boasted, puffing up her chest with confidence as she entered her room. “I knew I could learn about vampires by talking to him. And he didn’t suspect a thing about it. It was all just small talk.” She made her way over to her closet, opening the doors to pull out her pajamas for the evening.

Tikki crossed her arms giving her owner a flat look. “Are you trying to convince me you don’t like him or yourself?”

Pausing, Marinette turned to face her familiar. She tilted her head and cocked a brow. “What do you mean?”

“You like him. A lot.”

“Ha!” she let out a snort then snatched a t-shirt and polka-dot pjs out of the closet. “Yeah, right. This is research to defeat the Agrestes. Like learning vampires have three forms. That’s interesting, huh?”

Tikki squinted. “You told him he was your friend. Emotional manipulation of someone who is clearly lonely is cruel.”

“Stop it! I am his friend. He’s sweet, okay? If he needs me to be there for him then I will.”

“So, it’s not research?”

“It’s both!” she cried. Marinette groaned, stuffing her face into her change of clothes. “Tikki, stop hounding me about this. I don’t know what I’m doing!”

The familiar sighed, floating over to her owner with reluctance. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know… I do like him in a friendly way. He obviously has a bad life at home. I know vampires probably aren’t the most nurturing of creatures, but Adrien seems sweet enough. He’s been through a lot with his mother. I’m starting to think his dad isn’t the best parent from what Plagg hinted at today,” she explained.

“Speaking of Plagg, we did have a conversation about Adrien. He told me a little more about him.”

Marinette finally shucked off her shirt, tossing it into the hamper before pulling her large t-shirt over her head. “Really?” she asked as she popped her head through the shirt. “Like what?”

Tikki grimaced, rubbing a paw along her arm. “Well, you were right about his father. Apparently, he’s very harsh and cold towards Adrien.”

She felt her shoulders deflate. “He doesn’t deserve that…”

“No… he doesn’t. I know I’ve been difficult with him, but I’m just doing my job to protect you. Plagg said Adrien stays in his room most days to talk to him. And that his father keeps him sheltered away from the rest of the clan.”

Heaving a sigh, Marinette popped open the button of her jeans and slid them off her hips. Tikki’s words were heavy on her shoulders. No one deserved to be hidden away from the world. Not even a vampire. She stepped into her pajamas as tears bubbled in her eyes. Marinette quickly blinked them away with a sniffle. Adrien really did try. She knew he did.

It didn’t make any sense. Why was she doing this to herself? Marinette was starting to question her sanity. This was a vampire. The ones who hunted down her kind like turkeys for a Thanksgiving feast. The boy tried to drink her. And it had terrified her. But when she saw that guilt-ridden expression on his face when he pushed away from her, she couldn’t help but have sympathy for him. He was clearly a broken soul. His mom was killed by witches, which should have made him much more hate-filled than he was. Anyone raised to hate an entire race wouldn’t so easily give up those feelings. But he had.

She couldn’t help but wonder if this was really blessing of fate. Marinette knew her purpose was to defeat the Agreste clan. It was a prophecy assigned to her at birth. It was why she was gifted the earrings by Master Fu at her sixteenth birthday. And suddenly, two years later, a vampire practically falls in her lap. A vampire who has never killed a soul in his life? Could it have been destiny that brought Adrien to her? Who knew, really?

_______________________________________________________________

 Adrien tip-toed into the kitchen. He knew he father and Nathalie were still out hunting with the rest of the clan, but the Gorilla was around guarding the house somewhere. He grabbed a ham and cheese sandwich with a glass of blood to go with it. The last thing he wanted was to accidently frenzy around Marinette, so he needed to keep up his strength. He noticed a block of camembert sitting on the counter. Plagg hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday, and there wasn’t any chicken or fish in the fridge… he’d already checked.

With a lopsided shrug to himself, he cut two slices from the wheel. He plopped the slices onto his plate, careful not to get the stinky cheese on his sandwich. Adrien quietly snuck back to his bedroom. He scooted onto his bed, careful not to spill anything.

Plagg hopped onto the comforter, eyeing him. Adrien held up a slice of camembert. “There was no chicken or fish, so you’ll just have to go with this tonight.”

“Is that cheese? I’m a cat, Adrien. Not a mouse,” Plagg hissed. Adrien didn’t hesitate, just continued to hold the cheese out for the cat to take. Plagg glowered at his kindness. Leaning forward, he took a tiny bite. Adrien chuckled when the familiar’s eyes lit up, taking larger bites.

Adrien took his sandwich from the plate and pushed the cheese towards Plagg. Sucking the blood from a straw, he watched the familiar munch down on the camembert. He gazed up at Adrien with wide eyes. “Kid, this is the best thing I ever tasted.”

Adrien had to keep himself from snorting the blood from his nose.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous trash #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous ladybug au #mlb fanfic #mlb fic #ml fanfic #ml fic #mlb #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #adrien x marinette #adrinette #adrienette #halloween fic #miraculous halloween fic #garlic in the cauldron #ash writes #my fics #witch!marinette #vampire!adrien #witch marinette #vampire adrien

[mrneighbourlove]

Monsters: Ch 1. Where Monsters lie, Innocence Dies

Ralnor had been in his office all day. There was much work to be done. Though, occasionally, there was muffled whispering. Some of the staff thought that the second crown prince was talking to himself. Others wondered if his office was haunted by an old ghost. His spies, however, knew exactly what it was; the monster in the walls. A story floated around in the circle of Ralnor's spies, saying he sent a group to the old tunnels to find more information about a supposed creature sneaking around in the underground catacombs. When the scouts did not return, all that was found of them were dismembered body parts. Supposedly, the prince was the only one who could see or speak to this horrible fiend in the dark. Somehow, he managed to appeal to this monster's better nature... or maybe he was feeding it his enemies. Either way, the spies never dared to say a word against their master.

Miranda finally grew close enough to the spies to listen to stories they shared. A story of a monster in the walls, she didn’t think anything of it, until one day, on a return trip to the castle, she smelled something coming from a sewer grate. Investigating she came across a decayed corpse of someone wearing a Hylian emblem. What really creeped her out, was what she thought she heard a growl coming from deep in the darkened sewage tunnels. Running back to her boss, she did not have the experience yet to not speak her mind about the rumours. “My Prince. There’s something I wish to discuss with you.”

"... did I not ask you to knock before entering my office?" Ralnor did not even look up from his paperwork, continuing to write with his quill. The whispering disappeared as soon as the girl stepped foot in the room. He would have to remind Klinge yet again to discipline the kid. She had to learn there was a proper way to address a situation. "What is so urgent that you must interrupt my work, Miranda?"

“I’m sorry my lord.” Miranda gave a bow. She did her best to adjust to all of Ralnor’s rules. “I heard rumours about a monster under Hyrule. I didn’t think anything of it, but I discovered a corpse of a soldier coming from the sewage system. I think there’s a threat to the security of the people my lord. If the rumours are true, this has been going on for a while. The corpse I discovered had unique bite marks, nothing like any normal animal. I have reason to believe that this is either a very rabid creature, or something far more dangerous, like a real monster.”

"You really believe that story of a monster in the underground?" Ralnor chuckled at Miranda's words, brushing off her worries. He had to save face. No one could know about the creature in the catacombs. "Listen, if you're such a child to believe in fairy tales, then perhaps you'd be better suited to be a babysitter than a scout." The second prince glanced up from his paperwork, only once to look at Miranda. "A decomposed body may look like he has unknown bite marks due to the rats chewing on the flesh. I wouldn't be surprised if this supposed 'monster' of yours is perhaps a disposed exotic pet, like a crocodile."

"I-I'm not a child sir!" Her long ears drooped like a puppy who had been scolded. "Regardless of why or how it happened, there's a dead body of a soldier of this nation found in the sewers. I doubt he just got there for exploration’s sakes and eaten by some swamp dragon. We should investigate it further, to prevent anyone else from getting hurt!"

"My men know better than to wander around in the catacombs." Ralnor stated as he dripped wax onto a letter and then stamped it with his seal. "Whatever reason he was down there for, he obviously did not listen to me nor cared about the danger of the old traps. Those tunnels are as old as Hyrule itself and full of peril. The men know not to venture down there and I don't want you going in there either. That is final."

Miranda was about to say something, but stopped herself. Her ears continued to droop. “Yes sir...”

"Now, run along and remember to knock next time." Ralnor reminded the young girl. As she started to exit his office, he said, "And I better not hear of you in those tunnels. I want you alive and well."

“But you said nothing was down there.”

"There's nothing but traps, and I won't have you fall into one because of your insatiable curiosity."

“Ok.” Her ears shot back up and she hopped back to the Prince when she remembered her second objective for entering his office. She handed him a journal containing private dark thoughts of a tutor and bowed. “My last mission my lord. Turns out there was indeed a plot to blackmail your youngest sister.”

"I figured as much." Ralnor's hunches were almost always correct. "And you took care of the problem?"

“I don’t hurt people sir. Just ‘borrow’ all the evidence you need.”

"Very well. I'll see to it that the problem is fixed." Ralnor then instructed her. "Go train with Klinge."

“Yes sir. Thank you sir.” She bowed again and bounded off, not picking up any other presence near by.

Later on in the evening, the servants were avoiding Ralnor's office. Once more, all of the maids swore there was whispering. Perhaps his office really was haunted. After a long night finishing up work, the second prince strolled through the hallway with a book in his hand about ancient poisons.

Miranda couldn’t shake the feeling in her heart about something being terribly wrong. If Ralnor wouldn’t do anything about it, than perhaps Klinge would.

“Klinge! I have news to report!”

Klinge was in his office looking at the clock tic by. Every second going by another reminder of his life never able to end. The Dark Elf barely broke him out of his trance. “Yes Miranda?”

“I found a body in the sewers of Hyrule! I heard rumours of a monster in the underground of Hyrule, so I believe something is incredibly off about this.”

Klinge sighed softly. “So you believe any rumours about a monster now?”

“I know, I know. It’s exactly what Ralnor said, and he was incredibly shady about the subject. He didn’t care that a soldier of Hyrule was ripped apart! I know it was no crocodile.” The Dark Elf slammed her hand on the table. “I know about the rumours that come from Ralnor’s office. I also know there’s major hush-hush with the thieving society around a group that “shall not be named” in Hyrule! My gut is telling me there’s a great danger in Hyrule!”

Klinge pauses to consider it. He too had heard the rumours, but never found the evidence for it. It did make him curious though. And a body of one of his men had to be taken seriously. “Very well Miranda. At the least, we shall recover this body you found.”

Miranda’s eats shot up through her white hair in excitement at being taken seriously. “Thank you sir! I’ll take you there right away!”

Little did the two know that Ralnor had eyes and ears everywhere. There could be no trouble for the underground. What this world knew of monsters had to be limited. When Klinge and Miranda arrived to the body site, there was evidence of blood and decayed flesh... but no corpse.

Miranda was nearly distraught. “It was here!”

Klinge took note of the blood, and stain that dragged backwards into the tunnel. “I believe you.”

Picking up a piece of wood, he turned it in a makeshift torch and handed it to Miranda. “Follow me.”

He stepped into the sewer and started to investigate the blood trail.

The sewer went deep into the heart of Hyrule, yet connected to it was plenty of routes into the catacombs. It was a death maze without a map. Some of the tunnels had caved in over the years and others promised a grisly end with the remains of bones. It was an eerie feeling like the two of them were being watched. Not even rats dared to dwell in this place.

Miranda felt a chill run up her spine. This place felt old, but no longer empty. Klinge however felt nothing for this place. It was just another maze. “Interesting. Anything could be hiding in here.”

Miranda didn’t like the implication of that. Her mother always told her stories of boogeymen hiding in the dark to make her behave as a child. “But you think something is in here?”

“Catacombs this large are like a labyrinth. And labyrinths always hold something...”

Klinge walked to the walls, reading very old Hylian inscriptions.

The text on the concrete wall spoke of how the catacombs used to be a burial ground for the common wealth. The farmland was too precious to sacrifice as a graveyard, so the people were buried here to save space. It warned not to disturb the dead or trespass on their grounds. Promises of demise would greet those who did not respect the wishes of those who had already passed on into the next realm. As the two journeyed deeper into the catacombs, bones started to make up the walls....

The undead warrior glared at the signs. He knew no demise worse than the fate of his undying existence. The dead had no thoughts or messages to give. Miranda really do not like all the skulls that made up the walls. "Klinge. I don't like this place."

"If you see any Statlfos or Redead, stay close and remember your training."

"Klinge, what if we enter the Shadow Temple."

"That's near Kakariko Village. Nowhere near here."

"But-"

"Hush. Keep your ears and eyes open, and your mouth shut."

The Dark Elf did as she was told. Both continued down further and further.

The shadows moved without warning. Water dripped from the ceiling, causing a faint echo throughout the tunnels here and there. Though there were some unsettling signs. More corpses littered the tunnels like the one before, but different signs of death. One unfortunate soul was wrapped in what looked like spider webbing, drained of blood. Another had a hole the size of a melon in his chest, as if something huge had pierced him. Perhaps the grossest was a corpse that had been partly digested and then regurgitated. Bones were scattered across the floor in all directions.

It was too much for the Dark Elf, and she threw up. She could steal from men, make jokes at Bokoblins and criminals screaming for her death, and even swing a punch at some creep. That was fun. That was adventure. This was no adventure. This death all around her clashed against her more innocent viewpoint of the world. Klinge examined the bodies closely. “Take our your camera and capture the evidence. Now.”

Miranda took out her pictograph box and started to take pictures of the corpses. It only held black and white photos, but they were clear enough, the flash going off for each photo taken. Klinge could have sworn he’d seen signs of these attacks before. Did a Gohma spider lay the web? It was a monster big and terrible enough to do the kind of damage to the first two corpses, however, the third corpse didn’t fit its M.O.

The first flash from the camera revealed a tail, slinking back into darkness, fading as the light did. The second flash displayed a pair of red eyes observing from the shadows, narrowed and angry. The third flash sealed Miranda's fate as a figure emerged from the blackness too quick for the eye to see. Clawed hands snatched the elf, unseen to both Miranda and Klinge.

Miranda let out a scream as she was taken, dropping the camera. Her mind raced to her sick mother and how stupid she was for coming here.

Klinge wiped around, his mind racing at this sudden attack. “Miranda!”

Grabbing the torch he ran after her, frantic to find her. “Miranda! Hold on!!!”

As Klinge ran through the tunnels, it was like a rat trying to find its way out of an endless maze with no exit. A dark laugh echoed and taunted him from all directions. Miranda was still alive... for now. She was still screaming and perhaps now, crying too. When the commander ran into a connector, there was a small streams of light from lit torches hanging on the side of the walls. Five options of a path awaited him.... yet Miranda's dagger fell from above to the floor with a clatter, causing the undead to look upward.

A monster was hanging from the ceiling.

Those coils seemed to have no end from what little light the fire provided. The tiny elf was wrapped from neck to ankle with black scales, still moving along her skin. The expression on her face was one of shock and absolute terror. One hand emerged from the shadows and then another, placed expertly on the stones. Then the face of horror slowly crept from the darkness with a demented grin and flickering tongue. Indeed there was a monster beneath Hyrule.

"Come to slay old Bonegrinder?" The creature actually laughed, highly amused as a single claw traced over Miranda's cheek. "Or does he have two new playthings? He so does love to play, you see, chase and chase and chase until he gets them and they scream, so lovely, yes, the screams..."

Miranda’s tears would not stop falling from her face. Her mouth quivered in terror. “P-please. N-no.”

Klinge studied this thing that slivered from the darkness. It had the body of a serpent, and an upper body of a humanoid. It was indeed a monster. But so was Klinge, and the Undead would not be intimidated for the sake of Miranda.

He summoned his bow and arrow, taking aim. “Return. My apprentice. Now.”

"Oh, this your pet? Pity, pity." Bonegrinder's huge body moved freely about the columns holding up the ceiling. The monster did not even seem worried about a weapon. "Don't you know, you're supposed to keep pets on a leash? Otherwise, if it goes out into the wild, it just might get..." He flicked his tongue again, that mouth full of jagged teeth so close to Miranda's face. "Eaten."

“I am Klinge. Blade of the Gerudo. The Slayer. Identify yourself.”

Miranda gave a light scream. “No, no, no, no! Klinge, please help me. I-I want my mom.”

Klinge looked her in the eye, the first time in years he tapped his bow in worry. “Everything is going to be ok Miranda. You’ll see her soon.”

"Oooh, the undead one, the tool of the royals, the gloomy, ever depressed, hollow shell of a man who wishes nothing more than to depart from this realm... but can't." The monster chuckled darkly as Klinge kept the arrow raised and ready to fire. "Yes, yes, Bonegrinder knows all about you, he can feel your surprise. Let's see, what else does he know? Oh yes, he knows you fought with Zelda all those years ago, and... right..." His upper half twisted upside down, a lopsided callous grin on his face. "You let her kill your wife. No wonder you blame the queen, when you really should blame yourself." He shook a clawed finger at the commander. "And now, you're letting this little pet come in here? Where danger lurks around every corner? Tsk, you must not care at all what happens to her." The snake man's jaw unhinged, his mouth impossibly large. "Maybe she'll be a good snack, resting in Bonegrinder's belly until he tires of her."

Miranda screamed aloud, hollering at the top of her lungs for safety and her mother. Klinge felt his dark side rise within him. This abomination was old enough or clever enough to know about his life. Worse, it mocked him. It mocked every fibre that made Klinge what he was. The Undead warrior made a promise that he would destroy this thing. But first, he would save Miranda. This snake was close enough for Klinge’s magic to work. Hopefully she wouldn’t suffer.

In his wrath, he was completely silent. Raising a fist, he clenched it and pulled back, energy spears generating from behind the snake to pierce his tail and mouth. If the gods listened, he prayed they’d allowed him to catch Miranda safely.

The spears did indeed pierce the snake, causing him to drop Miranda. The elf was not totally unharmed, broken bones and bruises from Bonegrinder's coils squeezing her so tightly during the struggle. Though, the attack did not kill the monster. No, it merely made him... laugh? It was a maniacal laugh, one devoid of sanity. Slithering down from the ceiling, the fiend removed the spear from his mouth, a gaping hole there. Creepily, the skin started to patch itself back together, as if the wound had never been there in the first place.

"Oh, you stupid tool..." Bonegrinder's jaw locked back into place with a malicious smile. Those red eyes leered at him as his tail started to snuff out the torches. "You know that you cannot kill what is already... dead."

Klinge caught Miranda with one arm, the Dark Elf falling unconscious after being released. This thing was like him? Then let it see the light. He threw up a wall of dark fire at Bonegrinder. With great intensity, he ran off with Miranda back to the surface. He couldn’t fight with her here. So instead he would retreat.

Bonegrinder did not pursue the two intruders in the catacombs. No, the undead commander would report back to the second prince. There was no need for concern, everything would play in his favor. After all, the prince would not deny him. Ralnor was smart enough to know not to cross a monster. Licking the outside of his jaws, he murmured to himself, "Run, run, undead... run away back to your master."

Klinge promised he’d be back. Arriving at the castle, he dropped Miranda on Doctor Boveir’s operation table. “She needs a physical examination and mental care when she wakes up.”

"Good goddesses, Klinge, what happened to her?" Doctor Boveir took a look over the tiny elf's body and winced aloud. "She has multiple fractures. I'm going to call in a Dusa to help me... what happened?"

“Fix her.”

Doctor Boveir frowned and decided not to ask further questions. He first administered a light sedative to keep Miranda asleep, because she would be in a high level of discomfort after setting the bones. Once the on call Dusa arrived, the two set to work about healing the dark elf.

Klinge walked to his office. Miranda would be safe while with the doctors. Sitting at his desk he let his anger fester deep inside him. The silence made him more angry.

It was not long before Ralnor knocked on Klinge's office door. The second prince heard from his spies that the commander and the dark elf traveled down to the catacombs. He had strictly ordered for no one to be down there for any reason.

“Come in Prince.” Klinge didn’t even need to see who was behind the door to know who was coming.

Ralnor opened the door and then shut it behind him with an angry slam.

"I explicitly ordered that no one went into the catacombs, Klinge. That includes you."

“You think you have power over me?” Klinge squeezes his fists together as he held both elbows on his table. “Tell me. What was that thing I discovered.”

"I am your prince, the least I demand from you is respect! You have free reign on whatever you wish to do, who you want to kill, what you say to others, I don't stop you, but when I give an order, I have good reason for it to be followed!" Ralnor snapped harshly at the commander. "... what do you think you discovered?"

“I investigated the death of one of my men. I don’t allow my soldiers to be discarded like one of your spies Ralnor! I followed a trail to the catacombs. I found a monster by the name of Bonegrinder.” When he saw a visible reaction from Ralnor at that name, Klinge nearly exploded in anger, rising from his chair to walk around his desk and face Ralnor. “What do you know about it? Because you do know something about it. You are going to reveal what you know to me, now boy.”

"One of your men who defied my orders, defied your orders. No better than a traitor." Ralnor had grown cold and callous as he aged. It seemed like his best kept secret was now at risk of being known. Klinge and Miranda had traveled deep enough into the monster's territory to encounter him. "... thanks to you crossing into his domain, I fear now what I'll have to do to appease him." The second prince took a deep breath and tried to tame his ire. "Bonegrinder is an ancient monster from the lands of Omisha; an Anagari."

“My men? Are you speaking of a dead man, or Miranda? And what do you mean appease?”

"Whoever traveled down into those catacombs defied my orders, and thus is no longer my concern." Ralnor then snorted. "Miranda insisted on pursuing the evidence she found when I told her not to do so. She's next in line for insubordination. I'll deal with her later." The prince then explained to Klinge with a dry laugh. "Appease? Did you not see him, Klinge? Or did he move too fast for you do to so? That creature lurks in the underground catacombs and is the hidden head of crime. Anyone who displeases him is eaten. Thieves, black market items, drugs, prostitution, all of that? He rules." He frowned at the commander. "He's older than he looks too. Way older."

Klinge slapped Ralnor across the face. He was completely livid with his nephew. “Your actions disgust me Ralnor. You will not dare lay a hand on Miranda. That girl only did what she thought was the noble thing, and followed my orders to pursue it further. And now she has suffered enough for that. You have not only thrown away your honour by lying in bed with a monster, but a kingpin? What would your brother think? Your wife. Your father .... or your children.” Klinge clenched his fist, reeling in the fact he wanted to beat the life out of the prince. “You allow this thing to fester in Hyrule, to control you, to make you number 2. It seems that’s the place you feel suited to isn’t it. Now tell me, before I spill your secrets out to them all, why you allow that thing to ensnare you.”

Ralnor grunted when Klinge slapped him but stood his ground. This was nothing he had not suffered through before. The blow to the face caused his lip to bust and a trickle of blood to run down his chin.

"... because he can't be killed." Ralnor said lowly, a dark glare on his face. "And I won't risk the lives of my family for an idiot commander and dimwitted dark elf who don't realize exactly how dire this situation is." The prince would do whatever was necessary to ensure the safety of those he cared for, no matter what the price. "It's better to placate a monster than to risk it's ire. I learned that from you."

"Heheheheh..." A voice snickered from inside the walls. "Little prince, did you send this undead twig after Bonegrinder? Oh, he had fun watching the elf scream and the festered pile of flesh twitch from her cries. Won't you send more? You know old Bonegrinder so enjoys the... snacks... that dare to cross into his home."

If looks could kill, Klinge would already be in the next realm.

"... even if I say no, you're still angry." Ralnor spoke in a soft voice. "I gave orders to my men not to cross into the catacombs. You heard me doing so."

"Can't you keep your dogs on a leash? Better yet, why don't you just use dark magic to keep this tool in order?" Bonegrinder inquired, his voice coming from a different direction this time. "It would be easy, Bonegrinder could show you."

Klinge looked down at Ralnor, and the Prince felt an aura from him he never felt before. This wasn’t simple anger, or disappointment. This was something far more dark inside Klinge. “Get. Out.”

That warning could have been for either one of them.

"Hehehe, did old Bonegrinder touch a nerve, corpse?" The snake monster chuckled from inside the walls. "He will be watching you. Nothing you can hide from him."

Ralnor wiped the blood off his chin and turned on his heel. Exiting the office, the second prince walked to his bedroom to check on his wife. With a relieved sigh, he found Cass fast asleep with little Ukuri in her bassinet. It was late but sleep would not come to him, he knew this. Taking his sleeping daughter into his arms, Ralnor sat against a stack of pillows on the bed and silently kept watch.

Klinge went to the darkest reaches of his mind. This thing had festered itself too deeply in the lives of Ralnor and the family to be kept alive. It kept had insulted him too far to be allowed to live. And it claimed to be unkillable. Klinge decided that this was his final challenge. He would slay Bonegrinder. Or it would consume him. Klinge cracked his knuckles as he got to work writing out his plan. “Oh he may try.”

#New Crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #Klinge #ralnor #Miranda #Bonegrinder #Monsters #Legend of Zelda #For #figmentforms #s-kinnaly #More to come.

[imjustthemechanic]

Natalie Jones and the Golden Ship

Part 1/? - A Meeting at the Palace Part 2/? - Curry Talk Part 3/? - Princess Sitamun Part 4/? - Not At Rest Part 5/? - Dead Men Tell no Tales Part 6/? - Sitamun Rises Again Part 7/? - The Curse of Madame Desrosiers Part 8/? - Sabotage at Guedelon Part 9/? - A Miracle Part 10/? - Desrosiers’ Elixir Part 11/? - Athens in October Part 12/? - The Man in Black Part 13/? - Mr. Neustadt Part 14/? - The Other Side of the Story Part 15/? - A Favour Part 16/? - A Knock on the Window Part 17/? - Sir Stephen and Buckeye Part 18/? - Books of Alchemy Part 19/? - The Answers Part 20/? - A Gift Left Behind Part 21/? - Santorini Part 22/? - What the Doves Found Part 23/? - A Thief in the Night Part 24/? - Healing Part 25/? - Newton’s Code Part 26/? - Montenegro Part 27/? - The Lost Relic Part 28/? - The Homunculinus Part 29/? - The End is Near Part 30/? - The Face of Evil Part 31/? - The Morning After Part 32/? - Next Stop Part 33/? - A Sighting in Messina Part 34/? - Taormina Part 35/? - Burning Part 36/? - Recovery Part 37/? - Pilgrimage to Vesuvius Part 38/? - The Scent of Hell Part 39/? - She’ll be Coming Down the Mountain Part 40/? - Stowaways Part 41/? - Bon Voyage Part 42/? - Turnabout

Newton is on board!  Now what?

Desrosiers’ worry didn’t do anything for Natasha’s nerves.  Nat suspected it hadn’t been anything so simple as an apology and an explanation – Newton must have sworn up and down and given her all kinds of details in order to convince her, and after all that, it had still been a lie.

“I’ll show you,” Desrosiers said.  “This way.”

She went back down the steps to the Diamond Deck, and headed for the back of the ship, where the rooms with the best views were.  A sign by the door indicated that the Sirius Suite was occupied by Mrs. H. Desrosiers of Paris.  Next to it, another announced that the neighbouring Betelgeuse suite belonged to Mr. I. Neustadt of Munich.

Natasha knocked on the door.  “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice,” she murmured, half-hoping it might summon an alchemist as easily as a ghost.

There was no answer. Natasha knocked again, harder. “Herr Neustadt!” she shouted. “It’s Dr. Jones!  We need to talk to you!”  If he didn’t answer this time, she would knock down the door to get in. If there were nobody there… she began going over what she knew of cruise ships, trying to make a plan for stealing a lifeboat and heading back to Naples.

“Isaac!” Desrosiers joined in.  “Please! Can we assure them you’re not about to do something mad?”

The door opened, and there was Newton.  He was still wearing that battered green hat, and the face below it was disappointed, but not exactly surprised.

“Oh,” he said. “It’s you again.”        

Part of Natasha was intensely relieved.  Newton’s plan to bring about the end of the world seemed to hinge on having a volcano to work with.  There was no volcano in Barcelona, and Desrosiers had said she wouldn’t let anything blow up by accident.  Maybe it really was okay.  Maybe they’d been panicking over nothing.

At the same time… it had all seemed to make so much sense. Admittedly, the standards of ‘making sense’ for alchemy were pretty low, but still…

“Isaac,” said Desrosiers. “Please tell them you’re not going to destroy the world.”

“Of course I’m not going to destroy the world,” said Newton, rolling his eyes.  “If I did that, I’d be destroying myself, too.  Don’t be silly.  How the hell did you get on board this ship?”

“We climbed,” said Natasha.  “Why are you going to Barcelona?”

“Because I like Barcelona,” said Newton.  “Even alchemists occasionally do something just because we want to, you know.  We’re still human beings.”

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.  Natasha was sure this man was lying, and yet he didn’t show any of the normal signs of it.  “But Naples,” she said.  “Neustadt. Newton.”

“I did once think that was very clever,” he said with a nod, “but I later thought better of it. Sometimes being too clever makes you too easy to solve, so I thought, let my enemies look for me in Naples, while I’m six hundred miles away. How did you find me?” he repeated.

“Excuse me, please, ladies and gentlemen,” said a voice.  A maid was coming by with a cleaning cart.  The ground spread out and pressed themselves to the walls so she could pass.

Newton sighed.  “Since you’re here, come into my cabin.  We can talk there.”

They filed inside. The Betelgeuse Suite was multiple rooms, beautifully furnished and with a bit more actual personality to the décor than the beige hotel rooms they’d seen so far on this trip.  There was original art on the walls, and the bed was almost entirely covered in far more pillows than one person could possibly need. The doors were open to the balcony, and fresh air was blowing in.  A steward was pouring tea, and there was a tray of sandwiches and pastries waiting on a glass-topped dining table.

The steward was another homunculus, in uniform.

“Sit down, sit down,” said Newton.

Desrosiers sat down first, placing her purse in her lap and crossing her legs.  She was trying very hard to look at ease, and Nat could see that the truth was she was trembling with relief.  The reappearance of the CAAP with their conspiracy theory must have terrified her, and now she could not possibly be happier to know they were wrong.

The others pulled up chairs and seated themselves around the dining table.  It made for a very crowded space, even in the big stateroom, and Nat noted that future missions might be less cumbersome with just two or three people… but how would they know ahead of time whose skills they needed? The steward homunculus poured tea.

“Cream and sugar?” he asked Jim.  If the homunculus had noticed that the two of them had the same face, he didn’t show it.

“I take it black,” Jim replied.

“You,” Newton pointed at him.  “I have something for you.”

“Yeah?” Jim asked cautiously.  The steward daintily set a teacup in front of him.

“‘Nelle has given me to understand that you have developed a measure of, shall we say, self-awareness that I wouldn’t have credited you with,” Newton said.  “You want to become human.”

“Uh… I sort of think I already am human,” Jim said.  “I’d like to stay that way.”

Newton nodded thoughtfully.  “I’ve been giving it some thought since we parted at the museum,” he said.  “You’ve made it this far… if I have some time to work on it, I may be able to stabilize your body.  You must understand, though, that I cannot give you a soul.”

“What do you mean?” asked Jim.

“Exactly what I said,” Newton replied.  “Science can create a body that will live a lifetime and then die – but a soul that will live forever, only God can make.  Whatever you do during your life, you will be neither saved nor damned. When you die, and you must because we all do, even those of us who fancy ourselves immortals, you will simply cease.  Do you understand?”

He talked as if this were some great and terrible choice to be made.  That was the thinking of a religious man, Natasha observed.  She was not religious.  She didn’t believe in immortal souls, and so to her the choice seemed clear.  What did Jim believe, though?  Did he even know?

“Then I guess it’s that much more important for me to live while I can,” Jim said.

“As long as we understand one another.”  Newton nodded.

“There are stories which speak of ways soul-less beings might obtain one,” said Sir Stephen.

“That’s true,” said Desrosiers cautiously.  “Paracelsus wrote about them, but I don’t know how seriously we can take those.”

Of the group, Sam seemed to be the most familiar with fairy tales.  “Is this like the thing where the mermaid or the dryad gains a soul by marrying a human?” he asked.

“Yes, exactly,” said Desrosiers.

Natasha knew that when she looked at Jim, he would be looking at her. She looked at him anyway, caught his eye, and laughed.  He laughed too, nervously.

“Well, it seems there may be nothing to worry about so far as souls are concerned,” Newton observed with a smile.

“Do I still have a soul to give him if I don’t believe in them?” Nat asked, only half-joking.

“You have a soul, Dr. Jones.  The only thing you choose is whether it is saved or not,” Newton told her sincerely.

“Right, whatever,” said Nat.  She waved her hand a bit in a gesture of dismissal – her right hand.  Had Newton noticed it was healed?  If so, he didn’t seem particularly interested in the fact.  Maybe he’d taken it for granted that the group knew some alchemy of their own.

“Was it you and one of your homunculi we saw on the slopes of Mount Vesuvius?” asked Sir Stephen.

“No, no,” said Newton. “‘Nelle and I were already boarding the ship then – we started as soon as they finished offloading the previous passengers.”

That did make sense. What was wrong?  Was Natasha just being jumpy and paranoid?  Newton seemed relaxed and cheerful, happy to explain and help, but that was how he’d come across at the restaurant in Athens, too.  “Why have you been so secretive and pushy?” she asked, “if you never wanted anything but to make unlimited gold?”

Newton frowned.  “Do you realize what a question that is?” he asked.

That was a fair point. Unlimited gold was something human beings could kill for – and regularly had.  The Spaniards had all but wiped out the peoples of Central and South America in their quest for gold.  Europeans had raided the tombs of Egypt for it, dispersing treasures like the sarcophagus of Princess Sitamun all over the world, far from their original owners. Every culture that had known about gold had valued it.  Newton had come to the entirely reasonable conclusion that the CAAP was out to steal the philosopher’s stone, either for themselves or perhaps for the British crown. Desrosiers had probably thought the same, and had worried that they were going to blow something up, as the people of Santorini had done with their island and Rasputin had done with Siberia.

“We alchemists are secretive creatures by nature,” Desrosiers added.  “We don’t like to share with outsiders.  None of you are initiates, and so it goes against everything our own masters taught us to tell you anything at all.”

It all made sense, Natasha thought.  It made too much sense.  The idea of Newton destroying the world through Mount Vesuvius had made sense in an alchemy kind of way.  This all made logical sense and that was the wrong kind of sense.  In chasing the Red Death across the British Isles they’d had to get in touch with the kind of sense his sorcery and his quest made.  In wandering around the Mediterranean they’d had to do the same for these alchemists, and this was just the wrong conclusion.

Or was it? Desrosiers had told them that alchemy was science, not magic.  Maybe Nat was confusing it with sorcery and expecting the wrong things of it.  She wanted to tear her hair out.  She knew she should be reassured right now and yet she couldn’t be.  What had she missed?

“May we follow you to Barcelona?” asked Sharon.  “We’re supposed to do some kind of report on the fate of the mummy for the Queen, and we really need to see this through to the end.  And, if possible, get the book from the mummy case back.  If that’s the only thing we can salvage, then so be it.

“The British government has even less claim on the key than they do on the mummy,” said Desrosiers, pursing her lips.  “It’s not a book in any event, it’s a clockwork code-breaking machine.  It was given to Nicolas by his master, and he shared it with me.  You cannot have it.”

“What about the notebooks?” asked Nat, just to see how far she could push.

Newton stiffened.  “The notebooks are mine.  I may be officially dead but I am actually still alive, and I want to keep them.”  Then, however, he relaxed a little.  “But you can come to Barcelona and see the Philosopher’s Stone in action if you like, as long as you agree to keep the secret of it.  We are on this beautiful ship – I will get you rooms and cards so you can enjoy its comforts.  Tomorrow we’ll be at sea all day.  We get to pass between Sardinia and Corsica, where the coastline is absolutely lovely, and we can all relax and prepare before the real work begins.”

He was trying to put them at ease.  He was trying too hard.  What was he really up to?  It was driving Natasha mad.

“Do we have an agreement?” Newton asked.

#fanfic #steve rogers #natasha romanov #bucky barnes #sharon carter #sam wilson #clint barton

[ohmygillygoshoppler]

Ok, so I’ve been so bored, I just wanted to throw something together, so here’s a short. Warning, lots of Headcannons and trash, you’ve been forewarned!

@bunnythemurderer   you have a tiny part, too, mija~

Nathaniel walked down the sidewalk, some sharing wistful and polite nods with a few people, others refusing to meet the angel's gaze. He had set out earlier that day to see Simoné, but ended up getting distracted helping Kokabiel at the library. He didn't get a chance to stop by her house until later in the evening.

It was grey outside, snow gathered in white and grey clumps all around the streets and walkways. It seemed a tad glum, so the angel though. Now that he thought more on it, Lavender Town did seem like a pretty dreary place in this light. Where elegant streetlights stood, now was a cold, dark, snow-encrusted limbs, void of any life or light.

The behemoth of an angel waited to cross the street, standing rigidly beside a crowd of smaller people. Angels and humans dressed in dark suits, each passing figure looking much like the ones before. The faces he saw looked drained, almost. Like everyone was running on their last bit of energy, or were sleep walking.

He made a mental note of the demeanor of the people as he walked from one district to the next. Dreamride was a polar opposite to Lavender Town... More diverse, for starters...

Nathaniel couldn't quite say he liked walking through the streets of Dreamride. Sure, it was a nice place, and everyone seemed pleasant, but the angel still wasn't very... comfortable here; A place where humans and angels and demons integrated openly with one another. It made his skin crawl.

The angel glanced up the stairs, seeing Simoné's friend Jordan talking on their front porch to a man in a brown suit. No, as Nathaniel closed the distance between him and the house, he realized it was no man she was talking to, rather it was a demon. His guts clenched uncomfortably as he neared the steps, planting a massive hand on the railing-

"Oh, hey Nathaniel." Jordan called from above. "If you're here for Simoné, she's left for work, already."

The demon glanced over his shoulder, shooting the angel with a wide, toothy grin. His bright red eyes made Nathaniel uneasy.

He swallowed the wetness in his mouth. "I... I- where-"

"Speakin' o' which, I should really get going, I don't wanna be late for work. Thanks again, Jojo, I'll have the money by tomorrow night."

"You're lucky tomorrow's payday, Dante!" Jordi scolded, allowing the demon to take his leave.

"Pardon me, sir," Dante said as he squeezed past the hulking angel on the staircase. Nathaniel couldn't help but scowl at the creature as he passed, and he wasn't afraid to let Dante know he didn't quite like him. Dante got the message, too.

"Do you know what time she'll be coming home? I have something for her."

Jordan didn't face him, she was watering Simoné's herbs. "She won't be in until about three."

Nathaniel blinked, stealing a glance at his watch. "In the morning?"

"Uh huh. She work's the night shift at Reeth's."

"At where, now?"

The human put the pitcher down and itched at her sides through her sweater. "Oh yeah, you've never been down to Manx, have you, angel?" she asked in a farcical tone.

He scoffed. "The demon district? "His nose crinkled. "No thank you."

"No thank you?" the blonde youth shrugged. "Oh well, I guess you don't want to see her that bad."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Simoné works at a diner called Reeth's, It's on 42nd and Cooper of down town Manx. If you take the 217 bus all the way into Down Town Dreamride, and then take the 324 east, The diner's a big ol' building on the far side of the Black street. Real loud, music's always playin'. Ya can't miss it."

Ivory brows furrowed, a frown settling on his hard features. "I don't take the bus, I'm afraid."

Jordan rolled her eyes and raked a hand through her hair, combing the little wisps out of her face. "Then fly down there. You wanna see her, go see her. 42nd and Cooper."

Nathaniel raised a hand up, opening his mouth to speak, but the human had already disappeared into their little house.

Nathaniel couldn't get over it; when that demon was on Simoné's porch, talking to Jordan, it was... well, it was different. There was absolutely no trouble. It even seemed like the demon were convinced he, too, was a human. As a soldier, a fighter of the White City, the very sight of demons have roused the most ferocious wrath from within the angel. Not here, of course. That type of hostility was unwelcome on Rurus. After all, this planet was deemed neutral grounds by the Queen and her counsel.

Nathaniel couldn't wrap his mind around it. Why here, of all places? Dreamride was the most inclusive place on Rurus, as far as he could tell, but he didn't understand why. Lavender was nothing like this. There were no demons living there, much less walking through the streets. Here, at the bus stops, shops, even in small groups around trash cans and on staircases, angels, demons, and humans were congregating together, having their delightful conversations.

Nathaniel took to the sky, and headed east; he wasn't about to go and walk through the streets with demons... Now, that would be weird. He didn't want to go and make a scene, what with the streets being loaded with demons, and he being an enormous angel and all. Well, he wasn't entirely comfortable being all buddy-buddy with the enemy, either...

Nathaniel scanned the streets below as he soared on past, the streets alive with light and life, people of nearly all shapes and sized walking to and fro, some on trolleys and buses, others in cars, and a choice few gliding from one building to the next. It was all so new, and yet, somehow familiar. It was strange, really, how similar things were on this planet compared to Heaven.

The Light outside the back door flickered eerily as a solitary witch sat beneath it in a rusted old chair, bent over a dirty old table. She was smoking, quietly watching the sky. He watched her from afar, as she waved to a group of passing demons and sipped from a mug. It was snowing, but she wore no coat. Rather, she wore what looked like a dirty apron and a long violet skirt. It was disorienting for the angel to see her this way, normally she was so beautiful, she always looked like a queen, but here she was, at some hole-in-the-wall diner, sipping from a mug, smoking a spliff, looking up at the night sky. A Queen in a pauper's guise.

Nathaniel glanced about, seeing if there was a spot he could ascend without snagging his feathers onto any windows or staircases. He didn't want to alarm his witch, so before he flew in, he called out to her.

She looked over the rooftop, golden hazel eyes locking with stark ivory. "Hey you! Never thought I'd see you around this place!" Her voice greeted sweetly as she rose up from her seat. She opened her arms, and Nathaniel scooped her up into a friendly hug. "Let me guess, Jojo told you to take the 217?"

"Actually, I flew here. Much faster, given the circumstances."

"Oh?"

"I assume you're busy?" the angel asked as the witch drug over a chair from a dark corner of the alley. "I only wanted to see you, but if you're busy I could always-"

"Oh please hun, I'm on my break. I've got a few minutes to sit and chat, if you'd like." She cooed as she dusted the seat off and gave it a pat. It was almost a comically small chair, but Nathaniel made it work. He just prayed it didn't snap right under him, that'd be humiliating.

The two only had a few fleeting moments of small talk before a commotion across the street snagged the witch's attention away from their conversation. It was a group of children, four demons, two humans, and a young angel. They were all walking down the sidewalk together, and collectively jumped at Simoné's curse.

"Do you kids have any idea what time it is?!" She shouted, shaking a finger at the children. "Y'all best get your butts back home before I call your parents! I’m talkin to you, Malia! I know ya mamma!"

Nathaniel found himself laughing, not at Simoné, but at the faces of the children as they scattered, one taking to the wing. He admired her motherly nature, but there were times when it came across as intimidating. He mentioned as much, and asked how she came to be so stern and well known with children.

The witch smiled sullenly into her cup, her eyes glazing over as she peered into the unknowable. "I've always had a way with kids, ever since I became an older sister." She paused and hummed, recalling a pleasant memory. "I had a pretty decent family, once. I don't remember much about them, but I know I loved them, and they loved me. I never did get to see them after the apocalypse, only the humans killed in the End War were brought to Rurus. I do remember, that for the longest time, it was just me and my sister. Mom passed away when I was fourteen, and Maria well... I never knew what happened to her..."

Simoné smiled and brought her fingers to her lips, taking a long drag from her blunt while the angel talked. "So, Nathaniel, tell me about your family."

"My family?" Nathaniel looked taken back by that. Either that or the way the smoke curled about her cheeks and lips as she spoke his name.

"Of course, darling. I've told you about mine. It's only fair."

The angel thoughtfully stroked his chin. He did his best to recall things about his family. It warmed his heart to think about them, and for a moment, he wondered how everyone was doing back home.

"Well, my family is from a place in heaven known as Star Alley,"

"Where's that? Is it like the White City?" Simoné interrupted before covering her mouth with a hand. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

"No, no. It's quite a ways away from the White City. Star Alley is an outpost nearest the Wake, a glacial part of my home planet. It's mainly flatland, and there aren't a whole lot of people there. Mostly Growers and a few scholars. The mountains of the Wake overlook the plains, and at night, the stars are the brightest and most incredible to see."

He counted them off on his fingers as he named them. He was wearing the lapis lazuli ring Simóne had made for him. She smiled when she noticed it.

"-There's my mother, Ananiel, she's a dream-reader, a seer of sorts; my brothers, Zacheriah, Zadkiel and Sahaqiel, and my sisters, Israfel, Baraqiel, Kokabiel, Kushiel, Dumah and Tamiel. My brothers are scholars, Dumah and Tamiel are mystics, Israfel is a minstrel, and plays the most beautiful songs, Kokabiel is an astronomer, as well as an astrophysicist, and once taught at the Imundii Spire, and Baraqiel is my youngest sister. She's a..." He trailed off, not exactly knowing how to put his darling sister into words. Nobody understood Baraqiel, or put a label on her personality. One could say, she didn't have a personality...

"-Kushiel and I were drafted when we were around the same age, and were moved to the White City to train as Hellgaurd. I trained and sparred against Aboddon himself." he shrugged and sipped his drink. "It was where I grew up. Spent countless centuries standing watch over the White City, Lostlight, The Crystal Spire... I have since retired from my Hellguard duties, and once served the Archon Lucien, before his fall and humanity's restoration. Now, I have been tasked by the Heavenly Host to learn about humanity, and I have been relieved of my duties."

"So... you were let off work to take a vacation on Rurus?" the witch inquired, straightening in her seat. "Heaven sent you here?"

"More or less. Almost every angel on Rurus was sent here, and not all of them were pleased about the exchange."

Simóne  placed a hand on her chest. "You mean to tell me that angels didn't want to come and live among us common folk?" the witch asked in mock surprise. "Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that was a tad bit racist..."

A chuckle. "Not so much. My people can be quite... Full of themselves..."

Simóne just rose a brow, her smile disappearing behind a mug. "Oh?"

"I can imagine you understand what I mean."

"Honey, I used to have an office job, in Uptown Lavender, and I was surrounded by angels. The only one there worth any of my time was that sweet deaf boy. Poor thing was as isolated as I was. After he quit and moved back to Lavender Town with his sister, I used my savings to buy that house and came to work here at Reeth's."

the angel smiled, stealing a glance over his shoulder at the street. A group of demon and Akuma kids were walking together, giggling and fussing over some glowing thing in their angel friend's hand. The band roaring, music pouring out of the windows and back doors. He reached over to where Simoné's hands lay at her side, absently taking her red hand on his. Her warm smile sent a bittersweet tinge of longing through his chest.

"Not all of the First Kingdom is against you, just enough for me to be worried..."

The witch smiled up at him, humming contently and stroking his hand with her thumbs, her smile growing wider as the angel's face reddened. Simóne mentioned how handsome he looked, drawing a fit of murmurs from the angel as he turned away from her, smiling.

Both angel and human jumped as the door swung open, that same demon from the porch standing there jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. Nathaniel couldn't hold back a small sneer as the demon grinned.

"Simoné, your eclairs are finished." Dante chirped, wiping his hands on a rag that hung in the belt loops of his pants.

"Thanks, Dante, I'll be there in a sec." she said with a smile, grinning at the angel as the box shuffled back into place. "That's my cue. I gotta get back to work,"

Nathaniel nodded, standing tall from his seat, the tiny chair groaning its relief.

"Say, why don't you come on inside? I'll introduce ya to the-" the witch started, but Nathaniel stopped her before he could finish.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly!" the angel declared. "I'd cause a scene."

"Honey, this place is a scene," Simoné giggled, collecting her mug and hooking a rogue curl behind her ear. She nodded over her shoulder, shooting Dante another smile and a wink. "You just come on in here, and I'll get you situated with some coffee, how's that sound? You can meet my friends."

Truth be told, Nathaniel didn't want to hang around here with a crowd of demons, He was still uneasy about the whole thing, but the way his witch stared up at him with pleading eyes and a wide smile, he couldn't say no. Of all the foolish decisions he's made in his life...

#adventures of the Witch and the Wonderwheel #nathaniel #headcannon #ok #now i go die

[shuuenka-writes]

Sound of Heartstrings [One.]

[Okita x Reader]

Summary: Who would’ve thought that one night patrol would bring so much troubles? Okita didn’t want to be transported to a future land, neither to be involved in demon’s business. But what other choince did he have, but  to stay?

moodboard | masterlist

The stars, forever unchanging, they guide us on paths unseen...

If only he knew what kind of problems this night patrolling would bring, he would’ve stayed at the compound.

It should’ve been a quick evening patrol, just a look at the streets, perhaps scare off some ronins, then back to the Shinsengumi Headquaters. Was it a gut feeling, or something else that brought him in front of a small temple? He didn’t know. Perhaps, it was also his instincts that told him to dodge, when a hit came out of nowhere.

Quiet night filled a growl. A creature materialized before him, its eyes glowed in the dark, like a two blue embers. He could hear its heave steps, as the creature moved towards him. Okita took his stance, and waited for the monster to attack again. As it came closer, he could take in more details of its appearance. He invoulontary shuddered, when a thought of a demon crossed his mind. 

  The roar shook branches on the trees, and the creature, Okita named oni, attacked. It’s spear slashed through the night air, like a  flash of moonlight. Okita stopped the blow, though he shouldn’t feel surprised when it threw him backwards. He smirked, it would be a challenging battle for sure. Oni’s eyes flashed in fury as another blow came.

Okita felt a sting in his shoulder, and before he could realize what it was, the spear slashed right before his eyes. Two enemies surrounded him, one he didn’t know where it hid. He felt drops of blood running down his left arm, but he didn’t dare to break his stance. He jumped and swung his katana at the oni before him. 

The demon growled and blocked his sword, and Okita felt another sting, this time his knee gave out and he fell.

Pushing himself up, Okita dodged another blow form the Oni. Where was the other enemy? He tried to spot him, but in the inking black darkness, his eyes were useless. His ears only detected one growling beast before him, rustle of the branches.

He hid behind a tree, watched and when the opportunity came - and before the creature could realize what was happening -  he cut off his head. Okita didn’t allow himself to take a breath of relief, another yokai was lurking in the dark. He felt presence beside him. He slashed the air, cutting nothing. Something shook in the bushes surrounding the temple, and Okita waited for the attack. It never came, instead of the trees flew  a flock of crows. For a second he saw enormous, human like birds on the branches, but when he blinked all he could see was black birds on the moonlit sky.

Sssword.

He heard a voices, as if he came across a wasp nest. The voices resounded from soft whispers, to loud buzz inside his head. He frowned.

Give usss the sssword.

What the hell, he thought. The birds on the tree moved, their wings flapped on the wind and in a whirlpool of feathers they shot after him in a flash. Okita jumped to his feet, and knowing he won’t be able to protect himself from vicious yokai, turned away. His knee was hurting, and he was leaving a bloody path behind him, but he didn’t stop. Without turning back, he run down the stone stairs. The crows attacked, he felt their claws on his arms and shoulders. He tried to push them back with his sword, but they were to swift.

He didn’t know anymore where he was running. He spit, thinking himself of a coward, running away from dumb birds. But it was some kind of instinct deep down inside, that pushed him forwards. He Stopped before a river. His hand gripped the katana and he turned to the enemies. They were no longer crows. Before him stood enormous human like birds. Their faces, red, twisted in a grimace. He knew them, from festivals that took place in the city. The masks now looked more real than anything, and if he wasn’t so sure he was chased by the flock of crows, he’d think it was some kind of sick joke.

He took his stance again.

“Well, let’s finish it,” he said. In flash, shorter than a second, he felt a pain in his abdomen. And he was falling into the water. Cold water filled his mouth, and all he could see was a full moon, slowly turning red.

He didn’t know how long it took to die. But he was sure as hell, he was still alive. 

He opened his eyes, and it was still night, the moon still shone, and the pain was still real. It couldn’t be some kind of afterlife. He pushed himself up, water dripped from his hair. He turned around, to see if the crow yokai, tengu,  were still around. He gripped his katana and plucked it out of water.

Something felt weird. It was not as dark as earlier. As if the sky was brighter, but then again it couldn’t be. There was still time before the down, and the shining moon proved it. Okita felt his head spinning. Weird lights appeared before him, around him, everywhere and he couldn’t take it. He fell once again in the water.

***

Annoying, he thought, when he heard a buzz and a constant sound that reminded him of a rattling chain. He breathed in a scent, he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Perhaps a mix of medicine shop and other weird chemicals he had no idea of. He didn’t like it one a bit. Perhaps somebody from the Shinsengumi found him and brought him to the clinic. His body was stiff. He felt materials wrapped around him, bandages made of different kind of material.

Finally, he could open his eyes. He shut them again, when a light flashed in his eyes. He gulped, and tried again while creeping feeling of danger lit an alarm in his head. He looked around the white room. Everything was white, or in gray or blue. He moved his body, and to his surprise he was able to lift his hands. There was a string attached to his palm, and went above his head.

His head shot to the sound of a moving doors. He regretted it a second later. His muscles stiffened.

“Oh, hello,” he was greeted by a female voice. He squinted at the newcomer. 

“It’s good you’re awake!”

“Who the hell are you?” he spat, ready to reach for his katana. Only – he didn’t know where it was. He looked down, and his clothes were gone. He wore some kind of stiff kimono. He glared at the woman.

“I’m ______ __________,” she smiled at him, and walked up to his futon. And another thing he realized, he was not on a floor, his futon was up in the air. No, not in the air, it was attached to a table. Not really, but it was his best guess. “I’m volunteer here.”

Once again she send him a relaxed smile. “Hm, to be honest it’s my last day here,” she chatted, while taking out a parchment, or something similar. “Alright, what’s your name?”

He glared at her. “Why should I tell you, missy?”

“Uh… so you can be properly admitted to hospital?” she blinked, and tapped on the paper. “We haven’t found any ID on you, so you’re kind of nameless now.” He squinted at her again. He was slowly getting used to the light that earlier blinded him. He gripped at the covers, when the female reached out to him. He caught her hand in midway causing her brows shot up.

“Ow, ow, ow, let go,” she squeaked. “I just wanted to push you up, ow.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“I wasn’t going to, Mr. Anonymous,” she shook her hand, giving him a pointed look. “Besides it’s you, who’s touching me.”

He sent her last glare and let go. She messaged her hand, while he closed his eyes for a second, the pillow shot up. He was in the sitting position, and the woman was grinning at him with a rectangular box in her hand.

His head hurt.

“Alright, then. Back to the question. Name?”

He ignored her. Okita thought of a way out here, but first of all – where was this here? The woman acted natural, as if white rooms, and futons on tables were something common. She spoke Japanese, she looked Japanese – so he wasn’t in another country.

“Please, work with me, sir…” she sighed. “We can always start with age. Or address. Or anything. I really need to fill up this questionnaire for doctor Matsumoto.”

She slumped down and pursed her lips.  “Soo?”

He looked at her, she didn’t seem to be letting go. And she mentioned dr. Matsumoto. He wondered why the medic took a woman as a help but he could work with that.

“Okita Souji,” he said. She jumped and smiled.

“Okita… Souji…” she scribbled on her parchment. Her hand stopped in midway. She looked at him and squinted her eyes. “Wait. Please tell me your real name, sir.”

He frowned. “This is my name.”

“You’re joking, right? I mean, I know the Shinsengumi is popular. But seriously!” she tapped on her parchment with a brush, that didn’t look like a brush. He glared at her, what did she knew about the Shinsengumi? “Fine. Let it be this way. Age?”

“Twenty three,” he sighed. This woman was so exhausting, he thought, as she wrote down the information. He wished dr. Matsumoto was there. “Where is dr. Matsumoto?”

“Huh? He’s with other patients,” she replied. “Okay, date of birth?”

He noticed she wasn’t wearing kimono. Weird woman.

“1844,” he said and tugged at the string attached to his palm. When he looked closely, it was not made of wool.

“What.”

“What?”

They were looking back and forth.

“Are you perhaps…”she gulped. “…an actor?”

“What.”

“An actor, huh?” she clapped her hands. “I know there are groups that make real life costumes and do plays at the festivals! I like watching them,” she nodded. 

“You play Okita Souji? I never imagined Okita Souji like this, no offence!”

“What are you talking about?” he was seriously wondering whether or not this woman was crazy.

“But sir, please, give me your real info,”  she looked at him with pleading eyes.

“I’m serious,” he replied. “Or are you too dumb to understand?”

“Hey, sir, this was rude,” she huffed.

“I’m out of here,” he decided, and jerked off the string at  his hand. He ignored the gasp of the girl and shook of the covers from his legs. He pushed her back, as she tried to stop him. He finally localized his katana, and with a swing of his legs he was down on a cold floor. He reached for the sword and checking if it’s fine he rushed for the doors.

“Wait! You can’t!” the woman called after him. He ignored her and looked through the corridor. It was pretty much empty, the light he was now used to seeing, reflected in the stone cold floor. He rushed to the left, when he heard the woman falling step in step with him. “Hey, mister, get back to bed!”

“Shut up,” she snarled at her.

“Rude!”

He stopped for a moment by the stairs, but then there was nothing to lose and he run down. The woman was right beside him.

“Sooooujiii~!” she shouted after him, as he was still ignoring her.

“Since when we are at first name basis, missy?” 

“Since you won’t tell me your real name!” she huffed. “Please go back to bed!”

He looked around the hall. There were some other people in there, that really didn’t pay attention to him and quickly went back to their business.  Where was the exit? Okita tried to localize doors. The girl hooked her hands around his arm, and if he was in any worse condition she might’ve jerk him even further. He tensed his muscles, and watched as man walked out of the hall and into the darkness.

Okita decided it was the exit and made way for it. He stomped through the hall with the woman hanging around his arm.

“Uh, everything is under control!” she laughed. He followed her gaze to a man that stood behind counter. “We’re just taking a stroll!” she shouted. The man raised a brew at him, but relaxed a little bit. Then she turned to Okita. “Don’t be problematic, please!” she half yelled, half whispered. “I don’t want to be fired. On my last day. For letting a patient escape!”

He glanced at her and smirked, “well, that’s your problem not mine, isn’t it?”

Okita found himself in an unfamiliar neighborhood. The ground was covered with stone cold plates all around. While looking around he noticed lights. He didn’t knew that lanterns could give so much light as they did here.

He gripped his sword and walked further, ignoring the pain that he started to feel. He wondered why did it take so much, to feel his wounds?

Something flashed before him.  And again. And again. One of those flashing things slowed down and drove to the entrance to the clinic. He watched as a cart made of shiny wood stopped. Where were the horses? How come the lanterns could give so much light. A man in foreign clothing stepped out of the cart and quickly went into the clinic. Okita wondered if this was land filled with yokai? 

Perhaps the cart was a spirit and didn’t need horses.

“Can we go back now?” the woman tugged at his sleeve. He didn’t want to see it anymore, he turned on his heel and walked into the forest.

He sped up, and soon he was running. She was right behind him, and he was surprised she could keep up. After awhile, she slowed down, shouting curses at him.

“Gods! I’ve had already my morning run through the park…!” she huffed. He heard a crow screech and looked up in the air. She caught up with him, just to see as the lantern explodes and darkness fills the forest clearing.

The tengu flew down and landed on the ground, its staff ready to attack. Souji was glad this time he wasn’t surrounded by a whole flock of them like the last time. He pushed the girl back, she fell on her bottoms, but he ignored her protests.

“Hello,” he said, his katana ready in his hands. “We’ve got a score to settle, crow.”

 ...and you were written in my story, destined to collide with me.

#okita souji #hakuouki #otome game #okita x reader #SOH #hakuouki scenario

[theroseandcrown]

The Rose & Crown: Chapter Twenty-Two (Part Two)

Rating: M Chapters: 22/24

Summary: Quynn discovers the real price she had to pay at the cost of unravelling the truth.

Read this story on another platform: Archive of Our Own Fan Fiction WattPad

New Sparta, Arcadia 3135

The night’s absence of moonlight piercing the darkness foreshadowed the fate of every living soul behind the once impregnable walls of the armoured city. The inevitability of its much-anticipated downfall had become the most sought after achievement of more than a thousand warrior races in its extended history. Though none had ever succeeded. The knowledge of this realm’s often celebrated immortality stretched far beyond the stars, bringing with it significant temptation to those hell-bent on witnessing the fortress’s destruction. Passed down from generation to generation, the tales of its victory told throughout the centuries had become that of legend to the citizens of this metallic kingdom. And yet, like the fall of Troy in the infamous Achaeanian war, it was only a matter of time before the city’s defences had worn thin with age and weakened by the continuous sieges against it. Whether it be due to the hubris of their species or by the will of the Gods, sooner or later all great things must come to an end.

The resonating cacophony of defending gunfire drowned the screams of defenceless women and children fleeing for their lives as their beloved sanctuary burned all around them. The breached city walls groaned and creaked loudly with objection, their integrity now compromised by a force far greater than anything they had ever been met with. Those of the highest-ranking status and stature were shown to be of no greater value than their livestock ripe for the slaughter. Anyone still fighting to stay alive was forced into retreat deep inside the underbelly of the city’s most sacred grounds. As the air grew thick with smoke and ash, the countless pleas for help from those left abandoned on the surface began to die out leaving an eerie quiet in its place.

From the shadows appeared a legendary creature of great power. Her black cloak drifted over the fallen debris like the cold touch of death as she passed. Behind her, a loyal army of ten thousand strong accompanied their commander deep into the ruins of the shattered city. The earth shook beneath their feet as they marched forward. Their ballads of victory stretched far beyond this foreign kingdom bringing horror and despair to the hearts of their enemies.

Approaching from the easternmost section of the city’s central square, a lone scout made his way towards the familiar form of his superior standing before him like a God. “Sir,” he addressed the Raven, bowing respectively.

Turning her attention to the soldier, she glared at him from behind her shaded mask. “Report,” she instructed, her voice feigned and distorted.

The scout cleared his throat and presented a battle-ready server pad containing the data he had gathered of the city’s structures and garrison. “Our artillery was successful in disabling nearly all of their main defences both inside the city and along the perimeter walls. Their remaining forces have retreated just beyond the borders of the capitol building. They’ve taken defensive positions in at least three known locations throughout the city,” he informed her, highlighting specific areas on the map’s interface for her to observe. “It has come to our attention that a large number of their legions have been concentrated in one area in particular,” he continued, enlarging the map to a digital rendering of a massive columned building. “The temple of Hestia. According to our scanners, there’s a series of tunnels running underneath the city that can only be accessed from inside. It has been suggested that they are utilizing the tunnels and crypts to offer sanctuary to the women and children seeking refuge there. We’ve discovered the temple grounds to be heavily armoured and well-defended. Those still fighting to protect it are proving more difficult to eliminate than we originally anticipated.”

“How admirable,” she replied, allowing a small snicker to escape through her mask. “And here I was beginning to think we had come all this way for nothing.” Though pleased at how effortlessly the city seemed to have fallen under her control, she expected to find greater resistance from those who so boastfully claimed to be forged from that of legend. Before their departure, she had become just as well-versed in the tales of triumph told throughout the land as she had of the trials and tribulations of her predecessors. All of which had attempted to take the city by force and failed. Their misfortunes on the battlefield had become quite the tactical advantage when it came to paving the way for her own army’s success. If it hadn’t been for their downfall, this day might have been awarded to another. “Never fear a challenge, my friend. It only makes our victory that much more rewarding in the end.”

“What are your orders, sir?”

Returning her attention towards the direction of the sacred temple, she almost pitied them. Their refusal to accept their place under her command was the sole cause of their demise. And now, as they faced certain death, the only thing they had left to cling to in this world was hope for their species. Where were their Gods now? Where was their heroic knight in shining blue armour so tirelessly determined to set things right in the universe? He had abandoned them. And yet, they would still choose to sacrifice themselves waiting for a coward in a box to save them rather than accept their fate. She felt her face furrow in a sudden fit of resentment and loathing, though she wasn’t entirely certain it was them who were to blame for it. “Obliterate them,” she instructed.

“What of the women and children?” he inquired, holding his intimidation of her at bay.

Taking a moment to consider her answer, she became lost in thought as if she had been pulled into the void of her contemplation. Somewhere deep inside her mind, she felt as though every cell in her body had slowly been poisoned over time ever since the day she first regenerated. Where she once strove to mould and shape the universe by way of order and destruction, a larger part of her could not help but feel her purpose had become monotonous and unfulfilling. There were times when she found herself yearning for something much greater than what she spent her entire life hoping to achieve. This was the only life she had ever known. She had caused more pain and suffering in her lifetime than her memory of it could ever recollect. By her reasoning, it was far too late for her to become anything else. Perhaps the Doctor was right. Perhaps the day would come when the countless number of lives she sought to destroy had finally weighed heavy on her soul. But until that day, there was still an army to command and a war to be won.

“Sir?”

Regaining her mind, she peered at the scout and confidently delivered her answer. “Leave no one alive.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, bowing in compliance.

As the scout took his leave of her presence, she sensed something of a rather unsettling nature beginning to form around her. Something she could not have anticipated. Quynn, a voice suddenly whispered to her with the passing breeze. Her gaze was pulled towards the direction of a large columned structure left modestly unscathed by the surrounding siege. Being drawn to the sound, she removed herself from her stagnant position on the street and made her way towards the building alone. Slowly approaching the colossal entrance, she observed a figure stirring amongst the shadows from within. She paused just outside and listened in for the voice’s return, only to find silence in its place. Perhaps she simply imagined it. Or perhaps it was unworthy of any further investigation on her part. The thought of abandoning her curiosity in favour of the building’s destruction had crossed her mind when the sound of someone’s footsteps was heard originating from somewhere inside. Silently drawing her sidearm, she cautiously stepped foot onto the marble tiles and proceeded into the room on a mission to locate the source.

“I know you’re here,” she called out, her voice echoing back to her from every direction as it reverberated off the walls and high ceilings. Advancing into the uncharted expanse, a long row of variously sized bronze statues depicting the old Gods of Earth could be well observed between every structural pillar on either side of her. Her senses remained on high alert as she made her way deeper into the meticulously designed space. Her tactically trained skills of observation helped her to scan every possible niche and cavity in search of potential threats concealed within. The farther she strode into the unknown, the more she could feel the familiar presence of someone she knew all too well lurking in the shadows as if they were watching her. “There’s no use in hiding. You’ll only prolong the inevitable,” she called again, attempting to lure them out. Beyond the next area, the distinctive sound of footsteps from someone retreating farther into darkness was followed by a series of hushed whispers. “If you think you can save them, you’re too late. You’ve already lost,” she expressed with confidence as she tentatively followed the voices into the adjacent room. In the centre of the columned chamber sat several long tables between accompanying rows of hand-crafted wooden chairs. A dining hall perhaps.

A rustling noise from somewhere beside her drew her glance towards the dark spaces of the room. Her eyes observed the silhouette of someone quickly passing behind the columns. She caught a glimpse of crimson red shining brightly from the lining of their coat as the light welcomed it. “Come out and face me, Doctor,” she called to him malevolently, slowly stalking towards the shadows as if hunting her prey. Another noise from the opposite side of the dining hall claimed her attention. Her pace quickened as she strode across it towards the sound. Just before reaching another doorway, she stopped in her tracks. From the shadowy centre of the next room stood the familiar form of a man. His hands were tucked into his pockets. His face was shrouded in darkness, but she knew it was him. Though she couldn’t see his face, she was sure he was smiling at her. Raising her sidearm, she aimed it at his hearts with the determination that this time she would not miss. Her finger upon the trigger, she observed as he stepped forward into the light and looked at her with his piercing green eyes. An eerie silence fell between them as they stared at each other. In her hesitation, he turned and headed out of sight towards the other side of the room before she could fire. “Stop!” she commanded, rushing weapon first through the doorway after him. As she entered what appeared to be a small kitchen, she was prepared to find him waiting for her just inside. But what she discovered there was not what she expected as her eyes met with the frightened faces of a mother and her young boy cowering in the corner against a solid wall. In her arms, she held a newborn baby girl close to her chest. Quynn stared at them in disbelief as it suddenly dawned on her that there were no other doors aside from the one she had come through, making these creatures the only other life forms in the room. Bewildered by the sight of them, she took aim. The mother softly pleaded for their lives and held her children tightly. As Quynn attempted to grasp what was happening to her, her glance lowered towards the small baby.

She’s beautiful, isn’t she, the Doctor’s voice whispered as if it were calling to her from every wall and corner of the room. She quickly spun around and aimed her weapon towards the shadows, only to find them vacant of any life. She felt her hearts beat even faster at the sudden disturbance, becoming frightened by her mind’s apparent rejection of all reason. The sound of her accelerated breathing resonated from inside her mask as she continued to search for him. Her thoughts began to betray her the more she tried to convince herself that this was all an illusion, just a trap masterfully designed by him to weaken her defences. And yet, what if it wasn’t? What if it was far worse than that? Her story has yet to be written, he spoke softly from behind her. She turned around towards the source, her weapon aiming blindly into the darkness surrounding her. The sound of the infant’s whimpering forced Quynn’s attention to the family cowering before her. Her weapon instinctively drew itself towards the terrified faces staring up at her. Her gaze returned to the small girl being protectively cradled in her mother’s arms. She can grow up to be anything she wants to be, he called again, this time from the centre of her mind. His words were so very clear and possessing, it was as if she had spoken them herself. She glanced at the young boy. The sight of his tears triggered her memory of the child lost within the sea of screaming faces as he cried out for his mother. The image of his city burning all around him had stained itself in her memory ever since the Doctor gained access to her thoughts. Whatever he’d done to her, it was clear that no matter how strong she had become, no matter how many people had fallen for her to succeed, there was no army in the universe large enough to defeat him in the battle against her mind. He knew exactly what he was doing.

An explosion originating from somewhere in the city caused the building to creak and groan, suddenly breaking her of her trance. The sound of the walls shedding centuries worth of dust and sand between its cracks was heard hitting the floor as the structure became increasingly unstable. From somewhere within the boundaries of the massive building, she could hear the faint voices of her soldiers making their way inside. Their footsteps drew closer to her location. It was only a matter of time before they were inevitably discovered. Her weapon trembling in her grasp, she lowered her arm and allowed it to fall to her side. Taking one last look at the faces of her enemies, she inhaled a deep breath and offered them the single most important advice they would ever hear. “Run.”

Making the solitary journey back to her ship through the mass of decaying bodies, she finally arrived at the base camp just outside the city’s outer defences. She hadn’t even remembered leaving. All she could think about was getting as far away from that place as possible. Once on board, she made her way down the corridors in silence. The doors to her battle-room opened as she approached. Inside she discovered several of her lieutenants hovered over data schematics and tactical protocols. Their heads raised at her entrance.

“Leave me,” she instructed, her demeanour fierce and threatening.

“Sir?” one of the soldiers asked, confused by the sudden interruption of her presence in the room.

“I SAID LEAVE ME!” she screamed, removing her sidearm to point it  at the next highest-ranking soldier in the room.

Without further argument, the soldiers gathered up their materials as quickly as they could and made their way towards the exit. She found herself now completely alone within the confines of her battle-room. Replacing her weapon at her side, she removed her gloves and placed them on the console table in front of her. Lowering her hood, she unfastened the cloak from her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the ground behind her. She raised her hands to her head and removed the mask from her face before clipping it to her hip. As she did, her mind was suddenly flooded with the screams of her victims as if they cried out all at once. She grasped the sides of her head as their voices pulsated through her mind and shattered her from the inside. The returned visions of their horrific deaths were so powerful, she screamed in agony in an attempt to make them desist. She felt her nails tearing at her flesh as she tried to escape from them. The thought of killing herself just to end her pain had entered her mind when the voices suddenly stopped. She gasped for breath and braced herself against the surface of the table as her mind began to reset itself. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, she knew this was the price she had been forced to pay at the cost of uncovering the truth. As the Doctor’s confession filtered into her thoughts, her reflection continued to stare back at her.

Returning to her natural stance, she reached into her pocket and retrieved the device he had gifted her so many years ago. Having kept it with her all this time, its purpose remained a mystery ever since the day she could last recall being in his presence. So small a thing, she thought. And yet, important enough to have risked his life just to give it to her. When you’re ready to know the real truth, you’ll know what to do with it, his voice echoed into her thoughts once more. Twirling it around in her hand, she noticed the green light lit up on one side remained unchanged since last she saw it. Examining it more closely, she discovered a small round opening located at either end. A charging port or data link perhaps? She instinctively slid her finger over the opening as if searching for a clue to its meaning. Before she could question its purpose any further, she was suddenly startled by something sharp piercing her finger. She winced aloud at the pain, allowing the device to fall from her grasp onto the console table. A pool of blood began to form at her fingertip. A few seconds later, another green light appeared atop the device opposite the first. Without warning, the table’s view-screen flickered and switched on as all of its internal systems fully activated to the technology being presented. Scanning the device, the interface quickly began to download the stored data onto its memory drive. Her attention shifted to the console as the words download complete flashed upon the screen. Though afraid of what she would discover once she chose to follow the path of uncertainty in search of answers, deep down, she already knew what she would find. She could not turn back now. After a brief hesitation, she opened the file and expanded its contents to display in the form of a holographic projection in front of her. The image revealed two separate yet nearly identical triple helix DNA strands, both originating from the same source. The readings indicated that the first blood sample had been procured from that of a half-human female, extracted on the very same day that Quynn had last seen the Doctor. The second more concerning sample was her own. The scan showed the same blood type and species as the first with only one noticeable difference. Of the two specimens, only one of them had gone through a complete cellular regeneration.

Quynn leaned against the table and hung her head in deepened contemplation. After all this time, the truth had finally been revealed. The thoughts tearing through her mind were so vastly overwhelming that she found herself laughing aloud with spiteful cynicism, her voice striking the walls of the ship with ferocity. Taking a moment to compose herself, she lifted her head and returned her attention towards the image floating before her. As the devastating truth about her existence began to set in, she could feel her fury forged from the fires of her mother’s betrayal rising from within her. She clenched her fist in a fit of anger and slammed it upon the table, shattering the glass beneath it. As her hatred began to boil and fester, she knew there was only one thing left for her to do.

#dr who #dr who fan fiction #dr who fanfiction #12th doctor #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #twelfth doctor #the doctor #twelve/clara #clara oswald #whouffaldi

[glopratchet]

astryl-wondering

of astryl wylde, with an axe in hand, he begins to cut his way through the tent until he reaches a man with long black hair and piercing eyes and you can see that he has been transformed into a succubus by the hands of the journalist in an awful grin paired up with a toothy hissing but of course astryl is more than satisfied don't forget because hes a succubus a palace compared the rest of astokah's camp which is pretty awful red and orange as you would expect, it's not just that its headquarters for astokahn's rebellion but also astryl succubus activity and act as great examples of mass hysteria and the nature of astokahn: You see a painting which shows the creature described to you before: the succub not gone, just replaced by the lab again The tentacles waving around are now wet with It's lying on a metal, dissection table He heres the voice of the succubus and the incubus sing in his mind One high, one low He ignores the voice like he always does They call him all the time He never listens but, if he did You stare at a piece of newspaper from five years ago, smack dab in the center You can sense a group soon Something moves in the corner of his eye he checks it with his camera He pans over a burnt teddy bear, lying on the floor It looks almost brand new he looks through the footage again Something, amidst the static, moves slightly in the middle of the far left hallway dave begins to regret his selfish decisions and pines for the succubi to fuse into a lovely woman that he can mate with and live a normal life without threats who doesn't notice or at least doesn't respond Scanning the room from left to right the succubus finally notices astryl but still unknown to a man named irmcip who is a key supporter of the movement His hand presses down on the bear That moment, he thinks back to his college years Especially music a calloused hand slams down on the bear's head and nothing seems out of the ordinary that has majority of the camp in a lockdown Nothing unusual once again Hey, It seems like things that don't happen are being blocked more now 's databanks The technical er are trying to take measures They are definitely tricky to catch Except when they finally catch wind of being chased by these odd, One attempt nearly caused a system reset The program is instated unknown on what purpose It states irmcip the rest is a fat list of unknowns and corrupted entries The first thing cludstrum notices is that most of the names on the page are most likely dman, unrecognizable, or various other s that are unidentifiable Other than old hangups clapping each other on the backs for winsome trumpet licks the only sound is that of without doing any damaged so they may need a processor to play instead with less then a 25% humidity making geomagnetic levels of if they decide to make homeis here It seems the other bands havent given this a thought and just bring large pieces of electronics When the jixel ersp dont wory the drives will wait but appears to be executing a play by play of an unknown opera Mirror display time lapse converters will have to do a large sweep of the but cannot seem to introspect much further as the He debates if he should go see how the score is playing out anytime now finally, the band stops dead in their tracks The displays of the clock at various places in his media bank all say they are permanently stuck at 4: the fix He cannot begin Sudddenly all the melted bits of the books have been pushed out and a new order is leading everything Running countless tests on the projector shows one thing and cylopiean anglyk's son and daughter Each time he eats something from a machine the numbers will change randomly on the screen eggs, bags of chips, bananas, gold and aluminum As he fixes the bugs the trade-ins are lost The work Only pre-ets are mentioned in test menus 's room he finds He is pretty sure that there is nothing poisonous in the decayed pile he is surrounded by It probably will not degrade any of the debris in his mouth He pulls colors out of the things he imbies into his skull usually it changes the color and there appear to get very hot Most flavors are useable for trade-ins but astyrl finds certain ones to be just wrong Considering his new beliefs all fresh food makes him sick so he just went back to mindlessly trading off objects in his scape or drink here anyway jelly and corn cobbettes he thinks but save on the volume of liquid he might have to All the fresh food looks so inviting It is probably sound bytes of the practice crowd cheering that are begging him to eat these things being tempted by fresh foods there is also some talk about a basic corn cob trade this planet His final ending is one of protecting all life from cludstrum himself! the war torn city of Newyork The whole place got really destroyed and they have not even refillied the places with impliments of war the desert Oasis When approaching it the oasis lights up and makes a loud noise "what do you want out of life kid? the russian gulag it just looks like a big mansion and the scary part is that russians can wear bullet proof clothing the sounds of the night spring to life "Times up, the NEW world order begins now! cluldrum will start the end of the world It is up to you to stop it! -"wait, I explored a corn-field? The hummmmm of multiple machines of unknown intent To the west dark-skinned creatures lighting a signal fire arms breaks his fall from the snap decision to somersault off of the bridge into the large black piles of debris, This crumpled and sharp metal scape was once towering skyscrapers Look for hazards! Melt into the surroundings! camouflage- dark colors with dark backround periodically between the wind and exhaustion It looks like a glowing space station that fell to earth your brain as you start to see double vision! The rumbling of multiple creature movements on the other side into the fetal position "You are joking me "Breathing coarse in is face in complete darkness your distant impotent blowing out your flickering candlelight! You are standing just outside the ten radius of pitch black up in a pile of smoldering dead bodies Going back to the tent might be a good option the tent with a bone chilling howl The Sun is trying to peak through the giant dusty clouds but they refuse to budge to starve himself warner brothers releasing the "Helicopter sequence" cartoon the seven-year locusts arrive at your campsite! fast-food free elite "butterfly" robots to ; (un)wash your windows, clean, do chores Wake up creep! on the test monkey The massacred slave's head is detached inventing warrning! Kludstrm foul monkey graffiti is scaring away customers himself from the heat the temperature plummets! flowering "Coca-Cola" trees raining delicious caffeine from heaven you try to sleep! and tracking an exited feral cat the brutal smelling invaders advance! Mckinley overpriced and double bagging it they suck! messages into the dusty ground astrly mocking your moral views, beliefs, and goals A mixture of nightmare creatures beats and claws at your brain peta-vandal video feed warning! Four horsemen of the apocalypse dumping phosgene gas on civilian's below a crusade to foreign lands and forcing conversion The united civil assistance unions begin assaults at your authority the lives of those you've already sentenced to death Quick, create a social-based hierarchy ! Objections? Excuse me sir? the torn out portion of this tent mckinley coward hiding behind the law that you created for him off the bottom of this tent The top of the tent is rip open releasing the internal air pressure while fiddling with tweezers they just stole David's stone! Kludstrm obvious creating permanent wall that no one can cross spectacular as she bit into a bloody chunk of your heart You try to create something stunningly beautiful with common, and unnoticed items your eyes to see the truth about Kludstrm leather in the sun Wow! The acid sure has given Astryl a scarily slender figure your own content on the web! Screaming loud enough makes Kludstrm go away! enemies and exits look at Kludstrrmtmcidotmyebiemamehtselrihepgufhhh's comments 5 minutes later You now fear Astryl! There's no turning back this time you of incoming flesh-eating murderers your weird brain you hear Kludstrm's voice coming out of your mouth ammo exploding bullets sabotage! Astryl loco plotting against you mutating peanuts You wake up gasping for air you with the tent ! His eyes are now two black abysses peering deep into your soul The tent collapses under its own weight terrorists with laser lights With all your force, you crash an empty bottle over his head on bones you found outside The air around Kludstrm shimmers And he's gone! your subscriber's money on booze and wenches Desperate, you try to rip the wood walls out of the ground and bash in your own brains the storms coming from the west your heartbeat to a beat You can't stop staring at the inverted moon their favorite tune You play thes most terrible song in the world! klatu barada niktu! to make way for the dark The following program is not suitable for children, or adults of loose moral standing! Expect the unexpected Underground reporter SV7 broadcasting "live" as usual The northern dwarf plains fell yesterday to unknown attackers GalapadeparfwaatyzonebattlegroundDDDDD! The city of beauteous stranger's circus GalapadeparfwaatyzonecongressSSSSSS! Threatlevel increase in sector 7G! GalapadeparfwaatyzonecommitteeLLLLLL! The city of beetriot glass fragile average humidity 73% windspeed 17 knots storm approaching from the west visibility 3 miles UV level: unendurable Galapadeparfwaatyzoneincominghostilities! The city of beetriot reptilian incredible external temperature: atmosphere made up of 9% oxygen and 12% pollution

[incomparableadventures]

Sir Paulus and the Fate of Jeremy

You are Sir Paulus Heathe, a knight living in the kingdom of Larion. You have a steel longsword and a wooden shield. You are on a quest to defeat the evil dragon of Larion. You've heard he lives up at the north of the kingdom. You set on the path to defeat him and walk into a dark forest. As you enter the forest you see a large black dragon flying overhead. He looks like any other normal dragon except for his wings being longer than most dragons'. The dragon roars as it sees you coming and flies away.

> Give chase to the dragon.

You turn around and head back towards the castle. You're not sure what to expect but you know that if this is going to be a fight then you need all your skills.

> Train in archery

You practice your bow shooting with some of the villagers who help you out. They teach you how to aim properly and even show you where to find more arrows when they run low. It's only by their efforts that you manage to hit something every now and then.

> Check purse

You look through your bag and notice that there isn't much money left. You decide to go back to the inn and ask for a room since you don't think you'll be able to afford anything else tonight.

The next day you return to the inn and get a room.

> Continue to train in archery

You spend the rest of the day practicing your archery skills. You use up all your arrows and realize that you haven't managed to hit anything yet.

After dinner you take a break from training and go outside to play catch with some of the children who live nearby.

> Rest and reflect on training

You spend the rest of the night resting and reflecting on your training. You feel that you could do better so you try again tomorrow morning.

Day after day passes and eventually you can no longer keep up with yourself.

> Speak with a huntsman and ask him to guide you to the dragon's lair

You decide that you need someone to guide you to the dragon's lair. A huntsman would be perfect since he knows the area very well. You call upon one of the men working at the inn and tell him that you want him to lead you to the dragon's lair. He agrees immediately.

> Follow the huntsman to the lair

You follow the huntsman as he leads you through the forest. Eventually you come across a large tree which has been chopped down. The huntsman tells you that this was probably where the dragon lived.

> Ask the huntsman for advice on killing the dragon

You ask the huntsman for advice on how to kill the dragon. He says that you should attack from above and then dive down onto its neck while it's sleeping form.

> Cautiously investigate the lair

You cautiously enter the lair and see nothing amiss. You also hear sounds of battle coming from inside, though you aren't quite sure what kind of creatures are fighting.

Suddenly a roar echoes throughout the cave and several dragons burst forth from within!

> Quickly fire an arrow at one of the dragons and find cover

You shoot an arrow at one of the dragons and finds that it is wounded. You duck behind a rock and wait until it goes away before continuing to fire arrows into the air. Soon you have killed three dragons.

> I count my enemies.

You count your enemies and find that there are only two remaining. One of them is a young girl who you had previously saved from being eaten by the other dragons. She looks like she's about to cry when you finally finish counting her up.

> Fire at the last dragon and dash to rescue the young girl.

You run towards the dragon that is still attacking the girl. You manage to get close enough to fire an arrow at it and find that it falls off a cliff and dies instantly.

> Yell to the huntsman to protect the girl and bring her home.

You shout to the huntsman to protect the girl and bring her back home. He nods in agreement and runs out of the cave with his daughter. You turn around and look at all your dead foes and realize that you've won!

> Investigate the cave.

You walk into the cave and find that it is empty. You sigh in relief and begin to head back to the inn. As you approach the inn, you notice that it isn't quite as empty as it seemed earlier today...

The man sitting at the table is gone!

> Ask the inkeep where the mysterious man has gone.

You ask the innkeeper where the mysterious stranger has gone. He tells you that he went to check on some work orders that were left here yesterday morning. When he returned, he found that someone had stolen most of his equipment and fled the premises.

> "Which way did he go?" You ask.

You ask the innkeeper which way the strange man went. The innkeeper points to a nearby mountain range and says that was where he went. You nod in understanding and follow him there.

> Try to find the man.

You follow the innkeeper through the mountainside and eventually arrive at a large cavern. The innkeeper leads you deeper into this massive underground chamber, which soon becomes dark.

> Ask the inkeeper if he has a torch. If so, ask for him to light it.

You ask the innkeeper if he has a torch and he obliges. You then take a seat at one of the tables and watch as the innkeeper lights several torches along with candles on each side of the room.

> Take down a torch and continue to explore the cave.

You take down a torch and continue exploring the cave. Eventually you come across a door leading outside. You knock on the door but no-one answers. You wait patiently until nightfall before knocking again and getting no answer either time.

> Try the door handle.

You try the door handle and find that it's locked. You decide to break open the door anyway.

You push against the lock and finally manage to pry it open with all your strength.

> Quickly take in what you see beyond.

You are shocked by what you see beyond the door. A vast desert stretches far below you. The sun is nowhere to be seen and the sky is completely black.

> Check for signs of the strange man

You look around and see nothing out of place. You don't even hear any noise from inside the cave. You turn away from the door and leave the cave behind you.

> Tell the inkeep to go home.

You hurry back to the inn and tell the innkeeper that you need to get home immediately. He agrees and tells you that he'll send someone up there right away. You thank him profusely for his help and head off towards home.

> Speak to the questgiver and request payment for your services.

You approach the questgiver who is currently sitting at a table near the entrance of the cave. You say "I would like to join your expedition." The questgiver looks surprised by your question and asks "What do you mean?" "I want to join your expedition,"

> "And also, fuck you for sending me into a den of dragons."

"But I didn't send you!" "No, but I did send them! And they're fucking dead now!" The questgiver frowns at you and says "So? What does that prove?

> Looking proud of myself, I say, "That I'm pretty badass."

"Well, yeah, but..." "But what?" "But...you know what? Fuck you too!" The questgiver sighs and shakes her head. She turns to walk away from you and mutters something about not wanting to talk anymore.

> "Listen, tell me your quest and I'll see if I'm interested."

You ask the questgiver if she has anything else to add and she replies "Nothing more than what I said earlier. We have an important mission to complete and we will return soon." You nod in agreement and start walking towards the exit of the cave.

> Follow the woman on your quest.

You continue following the woman as she leads you through the cave. Eventually, you reach a large cavern where a group of dwarves are gathered.

> "Holy shit, there are dwarves. Hey dudes, do you have any ale? I am straight-up parched. I was in a desert today!"

You shout over the crowd and begin shouting at the dwarves. They all look startled by your outburst and some of them try to calm you down. One of them approaches you with a flask in hand.

> Take the flask and imbibe deeply.

You drink the contents of the flask and feel refreshed. The dwarf then takes another swig from his flask and begins speaking again.

"Oh, yes, sir. Yes, it's fine."

He says and hands you a small pouch containing several bottles of ale.

> "Thank you, good sir Dwarf. Now, what can we do for you?" I look over at my guide.

She smiles and nods at me. I smile back and reply "We have an important mission to complete and we will return soon."

"Yes, yes, yes, yes! Let us go!" They all cheer and begin marching out of the cave.

> "I fucking love dwarves." I comment.

"Yeah, I fucking love dwarves," you reply. "Well, maybe we should be friends." "Maybe so." "Okay, well let's get going. It's time to hunt dragons."

> Continue the quest

After a few days of traveling, you finally come across a small village. A couple of men approach you and one of them asks if you need help. You shake your head no and leave the man behind to go search for food.

> Try to hunt grouse.

You find a few grouse eggs near the village and eat them. After eating, you notice that you've been feeling hungry lately. You decide to travel further into the forest until you run out of food or something comes along to feed you.

> Ask your companion what her name is.

The man turns around and looks at you. He shakes his head "No, not here."

You turn around and walk away from him. You're about to call after him when he suddenly stops you.

> "What?"

"Don't call me 'sir' or anything like that. Just call me 'companion.' We don't know each other very well yet, but I think we'll make a pretty good team."

You nod and follow him into the woods.

> "I'm going to call you Jeremy."

"Jeremy."

You both laugh and continue walking. Eventually, you reach a clearing where there are several trees growing together. There's also a large rock sitting on top of one of the trees.

> "Fuck, Jeremy. Those are some physics right there. Do you think something put that there?"

"It was a natural formation. I believe the dragon used it as a nest once upon its death."

You chuckle and continue walking. Suddenly, you hear a loud noise in the distance. You look up and see two figures flying through the air towards you.

> Quickly fire an arrow at the nearest figure, call to Jeremy to take cover.

You quickly shoot an arrow at the closest figure. The arrow flies straight and true, hitting the target. Jeremy takes cover behind a nearby tree and you keep shooting arrows at the approaching creatures.

One of them lands directly on top of Jeremy who screams in pain.

> "Jeremy, noooo!!!" You scream as you throw down your bow and draw your sword, lunging at the figure attacking Jeremy.

You swing your blade wildly, cutting open the creature's chest. Blood spurts all over you and splatters onto your face. You roll off of Jeremy and attempt to crawl away from the beast, but it grabs hold of you with its claws and drags you back under the ground.

> "Digging flyers! Run, Jeremy, run!" You scream as you slash at the grasping claws with your sword.

You struggle against the creature's grip and yell at Jeremy to run while slashing at the creature's claws with your sword. You manage to cut through several of the clawed fingers before they pull you free.

"That was fun, but I think we should get back."

> I laugh and say, "what the hell were those anyways?"

"Those were dragons. They're really big ones too."

You look around and realize that you have no idea how to fight these things, so you just go with the flow. You try calling for Jeremy again, but he doesn't answer.

> I count my enemies.

You begin counting your enemies. You count twenty-four of them and then you notice that there are three more coming out of the forest. You shout at Jeremy to hide and prepare yourself for battle.

As you start running, you hear a roar followed by a crash from above.

> "This is getting serious..." You mutter to yourself as you fire off an arrow at the flying beast.

The arrow hits the creature and it falls to the ground. It lets out another roar and begins to fly upwards. You turn around and fire an arrow at it, but it misses completely due to the wind resistance of being airborne.

> "Fuck." You dash away and search for a cliff to run towards.

You rush towards the cliff and jump down. As soon as you land, you feel a sharp pain in your leg. You immediately grab your sword and begin to hack at the creature below you.

You quickly slice through multiple limbs until you finally sever its head from its body.

> No thought for Jeremy any longer, you use every instinct within you to fight viciously as the creatures gather closer.

You don't even care about Jeremy anymore. You only want to survive this ordeal and find some way to escape this place.

You begin hacking and slashing at the creatures as they approach you. You manage to kill one of them, but then another comes out of nowhere and attacks you.

> Drive your sword deeply into the creature and crush it's windpipe with your off hand.

#ai dungeon 2

[elaine-white-author]

This ‘series’ came about by surprise. The story simply was too big for a solo novel, which was my original intention. A Wolf Without Faith was meant to be the entire story, until I began writing the second half and realised that it was just too long to fit into a reasonable length of novel.

The series has changed slightly since the last time I showcased it. I not only rebranded it, made a few name changes, and took a whole new direction with the plot, but I also realised that I want to write a few shorts that go along with the series. I’m also not sure how long book 2 (my current WIP) is going to be, so I planned ahead with a cover for book 3, if it was necessary.

~

Here’s a look at the book covers for the series:

These are the shorts, that I wanted to feature the same model, to show that they were part of the same series, but which had a totally different feel, vibe, and colour palette.

~

Now, let’s take a look at book 1.

~

A wolf without instincts, a man out of control, and an Alpha who can’t rule…

.

Living in a world full of supernatural creatures, Owin is sick of double standards. Like it being alright for his werewolf boyfriend to cheat on him to satisfy a craving for a stranger to provide the pups Owin can’t. But when he tries to even the score, he ends up with fangs in his chest, a black out and a terrified lycan in his bed. A lycan who is now his bonded mate, whether he likes it or not.

For lycan Carney, turning Owin is the unthinkable…a connection to the past that he never wanted. But he has no choice. To move forward, they must go back to when Carney was a prisoner of his most feared enemy, the Alpha of the werewolves. A man who may just have all the answers that Carney’s broken mind can no longer remember.

One messed up pack and a war on the brink might not be enough to save a wolf without faith.

~

Chapter 1

.

Porter wasn’t going to like it. Not one bit. But Owin was sick of taking his boyfriend into account whenever he was out on the town. He’d been faithful and loyal for nearly a whole year and what did it get him? Cheated on.

With a skanky blonde girl, no less.

All of Porter’s excuses for his behaviour were sickening, so Owin came here. To club Growler; some sort of cross between a gay bar and a prowler bar, according to the advertisements he’d seen on Porter’s laptop. Not that he was supposed to be here, or on his boyfriend’s laptop, but he’d lost the ability to care. The club looked fun and the rules displayed on the site were simple to follow.

So here he was, in a club he’d never even heard of before, eyeing up the hotties at the bar. He wore a blue tie, handed to him when he arrived. Most other clubs just stamped a hand or wrist and had it over with, but this place was special. The tie wasn’t just admission, but a visual display of his dominant nature, the blue a representation of his preference to be a bottom in any hook up that might occur.

The group of four boys at the bar, three deep in conversation while the fourth sat alone, all wore dickie bows; the sign of submissive natures. The three boys had the deep green colour of pure submission. Boys that would do anything for a partner, whether of a one night stand or more permanent nature. The loner, however, had what the rules on the website claimed was a rare colour – grey. Grey, from what Owin could remember, meant that he wasn’t looking for anyone at all. It was a sign of someone who was only a submissive because they didn’t want to dominate. And Owin didn’t really know what that meant. Especially in this context.

Growler was clearly a hook-up spot for gay men, so why would this sad looking man be here if he wasn’t interested in any action?

Though six men grabbed Owin’s interest throughout the night, two even joining him at the table, he couldn’t stop thinking about Mr Grey. He was gorgeous, with that stylishly messy hair, closely shaved on either side and left long to flop over his eyes or be styled up on top; beautiful pouty lips and sad grey eyes. Despite the excess of hair on his forearms, his bushy brows and a decently attractive beard, he was pretty much Owin’s ideal man in the looks department.

“You look preoccupied,” one of the men noticed, smiling right up to his green eyes, only accentuated by his green dickie bow. When he didn’t answer right away, too busy watching Mr Grey finish his third drink of the last hour, a hand cupped his face and turned him until he faced Mr Green.

Owin couldn’t remember his name. But when he was kissed, he allowed it and appreciated the soft, compliant lips that parted beneath his. He appreciated it all the more when Mr Green turned him towards Mr Orange – a switch – who also kissed him.

Reaching up with one hand, Owin grasped Mr Orange’s hair and deepened the kiss, as Mr Green took his glass of whiskey from his free hand. Since it was free, he only moaned his approval when it was drawn down to cup Mr Green’s hard dick, pushing through the fabric of his trousers.

Dragging his hand away, Owin got to his feet and stepped past Mr Green, leaving both him and Mr Orange confused. Until he reached the other side of the table and smiled. “Coming?” he asked, heading towards the back of the club, where there were private rooms.

Both boys grinned and followed eagerly. They were almost at the door leading to the private rooms when Owin caught a reflection in the mirrored door. Mr Grey was getting up and paying his bill. If he ever planned to solve the mystery of that strange man, it had to be now. “You boys go ahead and have fun. I have to do something, before I join you,” he said, turning round and heading for the bar.

Though he could sense eyes on his back, almost feel the frustration of his two companions, he couldn’t help himself. He felt compelled to follow Mr Grey, who chatted politely with the barman. From their body language, Owin guessed they knew each other, but that sad look never left Mr Grey.

What part of Growler didn’t suit this man? It was an old class Gentleman’s club, with private rooms for fooling around, great music and atmosphere, a dance floor and a bar. It had any number of hot men, all sporting different preferences and all looking more than willing for a quick fumble on the dance floor or in a booth. Why had Mr Grey come here if not to indulge in the decadence of this place?

Half the men wore suits and the other half wore suits that were being partially removed by their companions. Men looked sexy as fuck in a suit, so the appeal of the appropriate apparel for this place wasn’t lost to Owin. How could Mr Grey not see it?

Stepping up beside the sad man, he caught his elbow and whispered in his ear. “You leaving?”

Mr Grey shivered and broke off his conversation with the barman abruptly, to turn his way. “Yes,” he replied, looking caught between unsure and terrified.

“Want to come back to my place?” he asked, in a whisper.

There was no point playing games or beating around the bush; they were both here to get laid. Owin to get back at Porter for his affair and this guy probably to brighten his life, which seemed so sad and lonely. Why pretend that conversation was important when all they wanted was to use each other for their own gains?

Mr Grey nodded, though his eyes were even sadder than before. As though, somehow, Owin’s offer was out of pity. It wasn’t as if he’d missed the fact that Mr Grey’s eyes never left him, the moment the man spotted him in the club. He wouldn’t lie; it had been intriguing to see the constant glances in his direction, the discreet smiles whenever he heard Owin laugh or their eyes met across the room. Mr Grey always looked away, though, keeping his distance, and Owin wasn’t ashamed to admit that he’d been trying to draw his attention. It just hadn’t worked the way he’d planned.

Placing his hand on the small of Mr Grey’s back, Owin guided him towards the exit. At the door, he handed over his tie, while the bouncer simply nodded to Mr Grey and smiled in a consoling sort of way.

“It was a pleasure to see you again, sir. I do hope you had a nice time,” he said, with a heavy dose of sincerity, as though he cared about Mr Grey.

Owin watched the exchange, curious and wondering if these two had history.

“It was lovely to see you too, Llewelyn,” he responded, completely bypassing any comment on whether he’d had a nice time or not. He simply walked out the door, tie still in place, and stalled only when he realised Owin wasn’t right behind him.

He stepped into place by Mr Grey’s side and walked out to the parking lot with him. “Did you bring your car?” he asked.

“Don’t have one,” Mr Grey said, with a smile.

“Right. We can take mine,” he decided, confused as to how any man in his late twenties or early thirties, as Mr Grey was, didn’t own a car. It was yet another mystery to add to the already growing enigma of Mr Grey.

Owin dug into his trouser pocket for his car keys, then pressed the unlock button, to try to remember where he’d parked. As the lights flashed, they both walked towards the expensive Jaguar. Mr Grey’s mouth tightened a little, but Owin couldn’t figure out why. And it was beginning to get annoying.

“I’m Carney, by the way,” he said, as Owin opened his door and let him slip into the passenger seat. He flashed a sweet smile of gratitude, then watched Owin walk around the car and get into the driver’s seat. “What’s your name?”

“Owin.”

Carney nodded, but kept quiet, leaving a tense atmosphere and nothing but silence to keep them company for the next ten minutes.

By the time they reached Owin’s apartment complex, he regretted his choice. Instead of two hot subs writhing beneath him, he’d lumped himself with Mr Grey. A quiet, unsure man, who looked as though someone had just kicked his puppy. And, though Owin was the type of man to protect whatever was his, he had a feeling Mr Grey – or rather, Carney – was not only the man with a weird name, but also the type too afraid to get involved.

He was a loser. A wimp. The sad, lonely man that most people ignored until he became invisible. Then he simply slipped away one day, never to come back and no one would know that he’d died a natural death at home, undiscovered for God knew how long, because no one cared enough to visit or call or get suspicious. He was the guy who didn’t exist. The guy no one remembered.

So what fluke had made Owin notice him?

Shaking his head, he figured he might as well see it through, since they’d come this far. Owin opened the driver’s door and got out, only to find Carney already standing outside the passenger door.

“Um…this way,” he said, nodding towards the parking lot elevator. He wasn’t sure what to say to this man that he didn’t know, had no chemistry with and would never pick for a one night stand in a million years.

What the fuck had he been thinking?

Carney smiled in that docile, pleasant way as he followed Owin towards the elevator, standing by his side like some kind of business man waiting to reach his office. The silence and the way he stood there, so prim and proper, so unconcerned with what they were doing, began to grate on Owin’s last nerve.

He ground his teeth, trying to keep it together, as the elevator finally pinged for his floor. As he inserted his key into the door, he briefly considered turning round and telling Carney to fuck off back home or to Growler, because he was no fun. But then he thought about what he’d lost to be here with Mr Grey and refused to do that. He wasn’t giving up a hot threesome for a night of no sex.

Owin walked into his apartment and was glad to see Carney followed him inside, closing the door behind him. He was so fucking calm and collected that Owin couldn’t help himself; he removed his own suit jacket and unbuttoned his white shirt. While Carney let his gaze wander the expensive living suite, the open plan kitchen, the floor to ceiling view of the city on the far end of the room, Owin got naked.

Leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor, he advanced on Carney, who blinked in surprise, then steadily watched Owin undress him. The grey dickie bow was ripped off with a little more anger than he should have done it. But that stupid tie had been the cause of this and he wanted that fucker gone.

“Where would you like to–” Carney asked, already undoing his trousers, while Owin undid the buttons on his shirt.

It was the first sensible thing he’d said, so Owin looked around and figured making it to the bedroom was probably out of the question. He needed to be fucked soon or his temper would get the better of him. It was much better to channel those feelings elsewhere.

“The sofa,” he decided.

That would save having to explain to Porter that his one night stand of revenge had been in their bed. After all, he was looking to hurt the bastard with his fling, not destroy their relationship entirely. And, for all of Porter’s pathetic actions of late, he hadn’t fucked the blonde in their bed either. Or even in their apartment.

Once Carney was naked, sporting a glorious body under that suit of his, Owin gave himself a moment to just look and appreciate. They were the same height, but Carney was actually much more filled out than he’d realised; great arm and thigh muscles, a strong six pack that looked good enough to nibble on and even a light spread of hair down his chest, trailing off around his six pack before picking up again around the base of his cock. And what a glorious thing that was.

Owin reached out and touched it, taking all seven inches into his hand and squeezing ever so slightly. God, it was a thing of beauty and he wanted to suck it all night. Then spend the entire next day being pounded by it, until he couldn’t sit down without thinking about that thing being inside him.

Carney shivered and, when Owin looked up to meet his gaze, his grey eyes had become a startling shade of silver that surprised him. As did the hand that grasped his hair and hauled him into a wild, sloppy kiss.

Not that he cared. As his mouth was ravaged by Carney’s, he succumbed to the pleasure of finding a man of raw need and desire under the perfect suit and collected countenance.

Maybe he hadn’t made the wrong choice, after all?

~

Writer Wednesday: Nynnyaw (ReBrand) This 'series' came about by surprise. The story simply was too big for a solo novel, which was my original intention.

#book #extract #MM #mm romance #novel #wip #writer wednesday #writing

[readbookywooks]

RABADASH THE RIDICULOUS

THE next turn of the road - brought them out from among the trees and there, across green lawns, sheltered from the north wind by the high wooded ridge at its back, they saw the castle of Anvard. It was very old and built of a warm, reddish-brown stone. Before they had reached the gate King Lune came out to meet them, not looking at all like Aravis's idea of a king and wearing the oldest of old clothes; for he had just come from making a round of the kennels with his Huntsman and had only stopped for a moment to wash his doggy hands. But the bow with which he greeted Aravis as he took her hand would have been stately enough for an Emperor. "Little lady," he said, "we bid you very heartily welcome. If my dear wife were still alive we could make you better cheer but could not do it with a better will. And I am sorry that you have had misfortunes and been driven from your father's house, which cannot but be a grief to you. My son Cor has told me about your adventures together and all your valour." "It was he who did all that, Sir," said Aravis. "Why, he rushed at a lion to save me." "Eh, what's that?" said King Lune, his face brightening. "I haven't heard that part of the story." Then Aravis told it. And Cor, who had very much wanted the story to be known, though he felt he couldn't tell it himself, didn't enjoy it so much as he had expected, and indeed felt rather foolish. But his father enjoyed it very much indeed and in the course of the next few weeks told it to so many people that Cor wished it had never happened. Then the King turned to Hwin and Bree and was just as polite to them as to Aravis, and asked them a lot of questions about their families and where they had lived in Narnia before they had been captured. The Horses were rather tongue-tied for they weren't yet used to being talked to as equals by Humans grown-up Humans, that is. They didn't mind Aravis and Cor. Presently Queen Lucy came out from the castle and joined them and King Lune said to Aravis, "My dear, here is a loving friend of our house, and she has been seeing that your apartments are put to rights for you better than I could have done it." "You'd like to come and see them, wouldn't you?" said Lucy, kissing Aravis. They liked each other at once and soon went away together to talk about Aravis's bedroom and Aravis's boudoir and about getting clothes for her, and all the sort of things girls do talk about on such an occasion. After lunch, which they had on the terrace (it was cold birds and cold game pie and wine and bread and cheese), King Lune ruffled up his brow and heaved a sigh and said, "Heigh-ho! We have still that sorry creature Rabadash on our hands, my friends, and must needs resolve what to do with him." Lucy was sitting on the King's right and Aravis on his left. King Edmund sat at one end of the table and the Lord Darrin faced him at the other. Dar and Peridan and Cor and Corin were on the same side as the King. "Your Majesty would have a perfect right to strike off his head," said Peridan. "Such an assault as he made puts him on a level with assassins." "It is very true," said Edmund. "But even a traitor may mend. I have known one that did." And he looked very thoughtful. "To kill this Rabadash would go near to raising war with the Tisroc," said Darrin. "A fig for the Tisroc," said King Lune. "His strength is in numbers and numbers will never cross the desert. But I have no stomach for killing men (even traitors) in cold blood. To have cut his throat in the battle would have eased my heart mightily, but this is a different thing." "By my counsel," said Lucy, "your Majesty shall give him another trial. Let him go free on strait promise of fair dealing in the future. It may be that he will keep his word." "Maybe Apes will grow honest, Sister," said Edmund. "But, by the Lion, if he breaks it again, may it be in such time and place that any of us could swap off his head in clean battle." "It shall be tried," said the King: and then to one of the attendants, "Send for the prisoner, friend." Rabadash was brought before them in chains. To look at him anyone would have supposed that he had passed the night in a noisome dungeon without food or water; but in reality he had been shut up in quite a comfortable room and provided with an excellent supper. But as he was sulking far too furiously to touch the supper and had spent the whole night stamping and roaring and cursing, he naturally did not now look his best. "Your royal Highness needs not to be told," said King Lune, "that by the law of nations as well as by all reasons of prudent policy, we have as good right to your head as ever one mortal man had against another. Nevertheless, in consideration of your youth and the ill nurture, devoid of all gentilesse and courtesy, which you have doubtless had in the land of slaves and tyrants, we are disposed to set you free, unharmed, on these conditions: first, that-" "Curse you for a barbarian dog!" spluttered Rabadash. "Do you think I will even hear your conditions? Faugh! You talk very largely of nurture and I know not what. It's easy, to a man in chains, ha! Take off these vile bonds, give me a sword, and let any of you who dares then debate with me." Nearly all the lords sprang to their feet, and Corin shouted: "Father! Can I box him? Please." "Peace! Your Majesties! My Lords!" said King Lune. "Have we no more gravity among us than to be so chafed by the taunt of a pajock? Sit down, Corin, or shaft leave the table. I ask your Highness again, to hear our conditions." "I hear no conditions from barbarians and sorcerers," said Rabadash. "Not one of you dare touch a hair of my head. Every insult you have heaped on me shall be paid with oceans of Narnian and Archenlandish blood. Terrible shall the vengeance of the Tisroc be: even now. But kill me, and the burnings and torturings in these northern lands shall become a tale to frighten the world a thousand years hence. Beware! Beware! Beware! The bolt of Tash falls from above!" "Does it ever get caught on a hook half-way?" asked Corin. "Shame, Corin," said the King. "Never taunt a man save when he is stronger than you: then, as you please." "Oh you foolish Rabadash," sighed Lucy. Next moment Cor wondered why everyone at the table had risen and was standing perfectly still. Of course he did the same himself. And then he saw the reason. Aslan was among them though no one had seen him coming. Rabadash started as the immense shape of the Lion paced softly in between him and his accusers. "Rabadash," said Aslan. "Take heed. Your doom is very near, but you may still avoid it. Forget your pride (what have you to be proud of?) and your anger (who has done you wrong?) and accept the mercy of these good kings." Then Rabadash rolled his eyes and spread out his mouth into a horrible, long mirthless grin like a shark, and wagged his ears up and down (anyone can learn how to do this if they take the trouble). He had always found this very effective in Calormen. The bravest had trembled when he made these faces, and ordinary people had fallen to the floor, and sensitive people had often fainted. But what Rabadash hadn't realized is that it is very easy to frighten people who know you can have them boiled alive the moment you give the word. The grimaces didn't look at all alarming in Archenland; indeed Lucy only thought Rabadash was going to be sick. "Demon! Demon! Demon!" shrieked the Prince. "I know you. You are the foul fiend of Narnia. You are the enemy of the gods. Learn who I am, horrible phantasm. I am descended from Tash, the inexorable, the irresistible. the curse of Tash is upon you. Lightning in the shape of scorpions shall be rained on you. The mountains of Narnia shall be ground into dust. The-" "Have a care, Rabadash," said Aslan quietly. "The doom is nearer now: it is at the door: it has lifted the latch." "Let the skies fall," shrieked Rabadash. "Let the earth gape! Let blood and fire obliterate the world! But be sure I will never desist till I have dragged to my palace by her hair the barbarian queen, the daughter of dogs, the  - " "The hour has struck," said Aslan: and Rabadash saw, to his supreme horror, that everyone had begun to laugh. They couldn't help it. Rabadash had been wagging his ears all the time and as soon as Aslan said, "The hour has struck!" the ears began to change. They grew longer and more pointed and soon were covered with grey hair. And while everyone was wondering where they had seen ears like that before, Rabadash's face began to change too. It grew longer, and thicker at the top and larger eyed, and the nose sank back into the face (or else the face swelled out and became all nose) and there was hair all over it. And his arms grew longer and came down in front of him till his hands were resting on the ground: only they weren't hands, now, they were hoofs. And he was standing on all fours, and his clothes disappeared, and everyone laughed louder and louder (because they couldn't help it) for now what had been Rabadash was, simply and unmistakably, a donkey. The terrible thing was that his human speech lasted just a moment longer than his human shape, so that when he realized the change that was coming over him, he screamed out: "Oh, not a Donkey! Mercy! If it were even a horse - e'en - a hor - eeh - auh, eeh-auh." And so the words died away into a donkey's bray. "Now hear me, Rabadash," said Aslan. "Justice shall be mixed with mercy. You shall not always be an Ass." At this of course the Donkey twitched its ears forward and that also was so funny that everybody laughed all the more. They tried not to, but they tried in vain. "You have appealed to Tash," said Aslan. "And in the temple of Tash you shall be healed. You must stand before the altar of Tash in Tashbaan at the great Autumn Feast this year and there, in the sight of all Tashbaan, your ass's shape will fall from you and all men will know you for Prince Rabadash. But as long as you live, if ever you go more than ten miles away from the great temple in Tashbaan you shall instantly become again as you now are. And from that second change there will be no return." There was a short silence and then they all stirred and looked at one another as if they were waking from sleep. Aslan was gone. But there was a brightness in the air and on the grass, and a joy in their hearts, which assured them that he had been no dream: and anyway, there was the donkey in front of them. King Lune was the kindest-hearted of men and on seeing his enemy in this regrettable condition he forgot all his anger. "Your royal Highness," he said. "I am most truly sorry that things have come to this extremity. Your Highness will bear witness that it was none of our doing. And of course we shall be delighted to provide your Highness with shipping back to Tashbaan for the - er - treatment which Aslan has prescribed. You shall have every comfort which your Highness's situation allows: the best of the cattleboats - the freshest carrots and thistles  - " But a deafening bray from the Donkey and a well-aimed kick at one of the guards made it clear that these kindly offers were ungratefully received. And here, to get him out of the way, I'd better finish off the story of Rabadash. He (or it) was duly sent back by boat to Tashbaan and brought into the temple of Tash at the great Autumn Festival, and then he became a man again. But of course four or five thousand people had seen the transformation and the affair could not possibly be hushed up. And after the old Tisroc's death when Rabadash became Tisroc in his place he turned out the most peaceable Tisroc Calormen had ever known. This was because, not daring to go more than ten miles from Tashbaan, he could never go on a war himself: and he didn't want his Tarkaans to win fame in the wars at his expense, for that is the way Tisrocs get overthrown. But though his reasons were selfish, it made things much more comfortable for all the smaller countries round Calormen. His own people never forgot that he had been a donkey. During his reign, and to his face, he was called Rabadash the Peacemaker, but after his death and behind his back he was called Rabadash the Ridiculous, and if you look him up in a good History of Calormen (try the local library) you will find him under that name. And to this day in Calormene schools, if you do anything unusually stupid, you are very likely to be called "a second Rabadash". Meanwhile at Anvard everyone was very glad that he had been disposed of before the real fun began, which was a grand feast held that evening on the lawn before the castle, with dozens of lanterns to help the moonlight. And the wine flowed and tales were told and jokes were cracked, and then silence was made and the King's poet with two fiddlers stepped out into the middle of the circle. Aravis and Cor prepared themselves to be bored, for the only poetry they knew was the Calormene kind, and you know now what that was like. But at the very first scrape of the fiddles a rocket seemed to go up inside their heads, and the poet sang the great old lay of Fair Olvin and how he fought the Giant Pire and turned him into stone (and that is the origin of Mount Pire - it was a two-headed Giant) and won the Lady Liln for his bride; and when it was over they wished it was going to begin again. And though Bree couldn't sing he told the story of the fight at Zalindreh. And Lucy told again (they had all, except Aravis and Cor, heard it many times but they all wanted it again) the tale of the Wardrobe and how she and King Edmund and Queen Susan and Peter the High King had first come into Narnia. And presently, as was certain to happen sooner or later, King Lune said if was time for young people to be in bed. "And tomorrow, Cor," he added, "shalt come over all the castle with me and see the estres and mark all its strength and weakness: for it will be thine to guard when I'm gone." "But Corin will be the King then, Father," said Cor. "Nay, lad," said King Lune, "thou art my heir. The crown comes to thee." "But I don't want it," said Cor. "I'd far rather-" "'Tis no question what thou wantest, Cor, nor I either. 'Tis in the course of law." "But if we're twins we must be the same age." "Nay," said the King with a laugh. "One must come first. Art Corin's elder by full twenty minutes. And his better too, let's hope, though that's no great mastery." And he looked at Corin with a twinkle in his eyes. "But, Father, couldn't you make whichever you like to be the next King?" "No. The king's under the law, for it's the law makes him a king. Hast no more power to start away from thy crown than any sentry from his post." "Oh dear," said Cor. "I don't want to at all. And Corin - I am most dreadfully sorry. I never dreamed my turning up was going to chisel you out of your kingdom." "Hurrah! Hurrah!" said Corin. "I shan't have to be King. I shan't have to be King. I'll always be a prince. It's princes have all the fun." "And that's truer than thy brother knows, Cor," said King Lune. "For this is what it means to be a king: to be first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat, and when there's hunger in the land (as must be now and then in bad years) to wear finer clothes and laugh louder over a scantier meal than any man in your land." When the two boys were going upstairs to bed Cor again asked Corin if nothing could be done about it. And Corin said: "If you say another word about it, I'll - I'll knock you down." It would be nice to end the story by saying that after that the two brothers never disagreed about anything again, but I am afraid it would not be true. In reality they quarrelled and fought just about as often as any other two boys would, and all their fights ended (if they didn't begin) with Cor getting knocked down. For though, when they had both grown up and become swordsmen, Cor was the more dangerous man in battle, neither he nor anyone else in the North Countries could ever equal Corin as a boxer. That was how he got his name of Corin Thunder-Fist; and how he performed his great exploit against the Lapsed Bear of Stormness, which was really a Talking Bear but had gone back to Wild Bear habits. Corm climbed up to its lair on the Narnian side of Stormness one winter day when the snow was on the hills and boxed it without a time-keeper for thirty-three rounds. And at the end it couldn't see out of its eyes and became a reformed character. Aravis also had many quarrels (and, I'm afraid, even fights) with Cor, but they always made it up again: so that years later, when they were grown up, they were so used to quarrelling and making it up again that they got married so as to go on doing it more conveniently. And after King Lune's death they made a good King and Queen of Archenland and Ram the Great, the most famous of all the kings of Archenland, was their son. Bree and Hwin lived happily to a great age in Narnia and both got married but not to one another. And there weren't many months in which one or both of them didn't come trotting over the pass to visit their friends at Anvard.

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