Jacques Crevette

It should be acknowledged up front that part of Rajah recognized Jacques as both prey and predator. It was a small blip in his brain, like trying to remember something you’d forgotten. It was a tug in his stomach. It was a flare of his nostrils as Jacques came forward, his smell warm and rich and full of meat. 

But more than Jacques was prey, he was family. His tiger’s hunger was nothing compared to the instinct to defend. He had felt something similar when he’d ripped the gryphon off of Copper and planted his massive paws over him. Right now, his ears flicked from side to side, sussing out what creatures were near, what danger might lurk, just so he could be ready to protect. 

He also wanted to hunt– drag back a deer for Jacques and present it proudly.

Rajah was not going to do that, thanks. 

Instead, he purred. The sound rumbled low in his throat and could sound dangerous but he knew that Jacques would understand. He was looking into Jacques’ delighted eyes and for once, Rajah felt seen. He blinked his own wide amber eyes as Jacques stroked his fur, then let them close like he might nap.

The next second though, he’d nudged forward and pressed his furry cheek against Jacques’ face. He nuzzled, purring louder, and then took a step forward–

Annnnd knocked Jacques all the way back onto the ground. 

Rajah flopped down on top of him, one of his paws stretching across Jacques’s chest as he continued to nuzzle him. His tail lashed on the ground, scattering leaves like a broom. 

I love you, he thought as he purred and nuzzled him. He couldn’t say anything or answer any of his questions but– he hoped Jacques would hear this anyway. 

It was overwhelming but in the best kind of way. The way in which Jacques just wanted to memorize everything he saw and be able to tell Raj how absolutely beautiful he was, as a tiger and as a person. Not that he felt it would be much of a surprise for him to say so. Jacques was utterly in love with Rajah.

And before he knew it he was on the ground, flat on his back as he stared up at his tiger boyfriend. He was magnificent. Jacques was so proud of him that he was sure a part of him wouldn’t mind just crying right there he was so happy. But, seeing as his boyfriend was in tiger form now, he wasn’t sure explaining himself if he started to cry would be very helpful.

Instead he grinned, pinned to the ground without a care in the world. He knew Raj wouldn’t hurt him. This was a special day, and Jacques wished he could kiss him. Since that option wasn’t really open for him, he was petting his tiger, scratching around the ears as he knew small cats liked. Maybe Raj would like that as well.

Melaenis had been attracted by the smell of grief. It had a pervasive smell, thick and foul. It could rise over households like fogs, shrouded all other potential reagents inside– sometimes it hid even a person’s magic no matter how powerful that magic could be. Grief, it turned out, was the equalizer of all great men and women. Kings cowered underneath its weight. Empires froze. Even time, ceaseless and unforgiving, held its breath when grief took up its post.

What Mel found quite interesting about grief was the way to collect it. Grief was impossible to use unless a sorcerer understood its origin. Otherwise you could grab for it in the air and your fingers would pass right through it. It stuck just so particularly to its parent, like a splinter wedged deep within the thumb. The rewards for collecting grief were endless though, if one could just get a jar-ful.

It could be essential, for example, to help a witch fool time.

So Mel had followed grief’s path and ended up at the graveyard of a pet shrimp of all things. The fishy smell must have fooled her. Now this was annoying and quite frankly disappointing and Mel tilted her head at the lad knelt on the dirt, whimpering pathetically over the hole in the ground. He wore his grief like a blanket around his shoulders which meant it was warm and comfortable and easily shed. She needed true grief, real grief– the splinter kind.

The benefit of this grief, she supposed, was she would be able to collect it easily enough especially from this apparent fool (and it could be used in a few different poultices and lotions, true). So Mel made herself look very sorry indeed, or at least– as best as she was able.

“Oh– I’m so sorry– I didn’t realize I was interrupting a funeral,” said Mel, shaking her head. “My deepest condolences for your loss.”

Jacques had really meant to only stay out there for a little while. But he also felt that Claude deserved a good funeral. He wanted to devote the time to it, regardless of what he needed to do. And honestly, Jacques didn’t have much to do. He had so few clients. He needed to do better, so that he wasn’t relying on Gil for support all the time. Gil or Raj, he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t so damn dependent. But that was a worry for another time. Right now it was about Claude.

Claude who had been Jacques’ first ever pet. His spectacular little pet who had been his company for a good three years. It was tough to lose him now when he was so happy. Maybe that was it. Had he neglected his pet in that time? Guilt twisted in his stomach mingling with his grief. It took him a good minute to really focus on the person who had interrupted his moment.

Roger was walking Skipper and Sally by the woods, whistling to himself. It was rather warm today and Roger wasn’t too fond of warm weather, primarily because he hated wearing shorts (have you ever seen a proper musician who wore shorts?). 

He liked taking the route by the forest, because the tall trees offered nice shade, and he often found himself daydreaming. He heard a voice and peered ahead, spying a man crouched on the ground. Roger squinted, trying to get a better look and then realized it was Jacques, the bloke he’d met at St. Paddy’s who bought him and Paul drinks. He grinned, about to raise his hand in greeting, when he noticed that Jacques looked rather upset. So he lowered his half-raised hand and walked over, the bells on the collars of the dogs jingling. 

“Er–sorry! What’s the, uh, situation?”

He squinted at the hole Jacques was digging. “Do you need any help?”

It took Jacques a minute to recognize the man who was speaking to him. His voice was familiar, but Jacques wasn’t the best at placing voices to names. Still, as he looked up and caught a glimpse of the other he remembered. Oh yes, it was the nice man he met at the St. Patrick’s Day event. He had been a lot of fun to hang out with, along with..the other one. Paul was it?

Jacques attempted to smile, though it was wobbly and haphazard, his hurt still quite clear on his face. Oh well. He had never been ashamed of expressing his feelings. He wasn’t going to start now, even if it would make the other judge him. He loved his pets. He didn’t care what other people thought of his pet choice. Some people chose mice or hamsters. Jacques chose shrimp.

Rajah chuckled at Jacques, resisting the urge to shake his head and roll his eyes fondly at his boyfriend (!!) Only Jacques would be excited to see his magic for the chance to hug a tiger. Here Rajah was, about to reveal an ancient secret that very few people outside the Vaagh got to see– and Jacques just wanted to hug him.

Classic.

But Rajah wasn’t upset. He was delighted, warm and fuzzy inside like he could nuzzle up against Jacques and start purring. Maybe that was his tiger after all, which felt so close to the surface here in the forest, Rajah was pretty sure he could close his eyes and shift without thinking about it. But he got up to do it properly, wiping his hands on his trousers first before turning round to face Jacques. His lips cracked into a shy smile, gaze falling to the leaves and Jacques’ trainers. He bit at his own lip.

“Er, I just have to– I’ll uh, I’ll ruin my clothes. You–uh. Don’t have to, uh, look,” he said shyly, shedding his light jacket and laying it on the log. He began to unbutton his shirt, realizing how– odd this was, how easy it would be to misconstrue all this. Still, Rajah just kept going, slipping his shirt off his shoulders. The air tickled his skin, the fine, dark hairs on his stomach and arms. He kicked off his shoes and unbuckled his trousers.

(This whole thing was so awkward that he was glad when he’d shifted for Copper, he didn’t blink, just did it, just ripped through the uniform.)

He stayed in his pants because, uh– yeah. He had spare clothes out here anyway. Then he looked up at the sky, eyes closed, rolling his head once, feeling the magic tingling behind his ears, spreading down his muscle.

His first transformations had always been violent, as violent as his beast was rumoured to be. But as Rajah grew, he learned how to slip into that skin like putting on a pair of shoes. He let the world around him wake up the tiger. The cool soil on the bottoms of his feet. The air, full of scent. The sounds: birds chirping, leaves rustling, twigs snapping, foxes chortling.

It happened quickly. To Jacques, it looked like Rajah blurred out of focus and then the next second the leaves shifted as Rajah’s four paws fell lightly onto the ground. He breathed out through his nostrils, blinking open his round orange eyes at Jacques.

And then he sat down, tail flicking behind him, looking calmly at Jacques, a purr rumbling in his throat.

Jacques looked surprised for a moment and then a smile spread across his face. “I’m not going to miss a moment. Unless you feel uncomfortable and want me to look away...personally it’s just me being allowed to see everything that’s wonderful about you.” He enthused, and really this was all he could have asked for. If he were a cartoon he would probably have heart eyes at that moment. How could he not with his boyfriend being so amazing?

He watched with avid focus, for the first time since they met staying completely still, even his breathing slowed down so he could capture everything in the moment. He wanted to be steady, and he was as steady as...well as Jacques was capable of being as his boyfriend turned into a beautiful orange and black tiger. Jacques’ eyes were wide, and he was in complete awe, taking in his beautiful fur, the ears, the tail, even the impressive paws of the tiger. Of Raj really. He was the most stunning creature he had ever come across.

“Beautiful,” Jacques murmured, a smile spreading across his face again as he moved closer, getting down onto his knees so he was now face to face with the tiger...with Raj. Wow, this was the most incredible thing he had ever seen. And it was something that Raj had chosen to share with him. He had chosen this, and Jacques had never been happier. “Is your fur...” He stopped questioning and leaned in, a hand reaching out to stroke the soft fur at his shoulder. “It is...wow. I wonder how that must feel. Is it powerful? I would imagine so...”

He’d been nervous in a good way, knowing that after this there would be no secrets between he and Jacques– well, besides top secret cases but that didn’t count. He’d be himself. He wouldn’t have to hold his tongue or make up terrible excuses for why he disappeared sometimes. He could use his powers more openly in front of Jacques, even if Jacques didn’t realize. It just meant freedom. He’d have freedom. 

So all of Jacques’ questions just made him grin wider, made him more excited. The last of his nerves left him entirely. He knew there was barely a chance that Jacques would react negatively and now it was clear that he accepted Raj. He wanted to understand.

That was everything Raj had dreamed of. 

“Well–” he started, adjusting a bit on the log, his smile growing on his face. He felt as giddy as a school kid. “The tiger and I, we’re one, so yeah– it uh, it ages with me. I turned for the first time when I was somethin’ like 12, and I was real small then– basically a cub,” he chuckled. And there were some memories he had of being even smaller, the cub entirely in control of him the first few years of his life. That was part of being a vaagh– the wild first years of childhood, which for Rajah remained in his memory only as dreams. 

“And if I shift…yeah, you can touch me.” His smile turned fond. It was such a Jacques’ question to ask. “I have control of my tiger completely. I’d never hurt you, Jacques. Or anyone else. It’d…it’d be me, just…in a different skin.” 

He swallowed, glanced down at his knee for a second, a split-second, and then back up at Jacques. “If you…want. I can shift now. I can show you.” 

Please say yes.  

Raj was smiling so brightly, so it just made the warmth in Jacques’ chest grow, his own smile mirroring his boyfriend’s. This was a moment that had been worth waiting for, just to see the pure joy on Raj’s face, to be able to learn about the vaagh, everything about this. Jacques was incredibly lucky to be able to get to have this moment with Raj, and he would remind himself to tell Raj that it was an honor later. Right now he knew the important thing was to find out what Raj would let him find out...and to see. To see Raj’s magic.

“Wow. That must have been adorable when you were little,” Jacques blurted with a big grin. “Of course, not like you and your tiger aren’t adorable now. I mean I know you are, haven’t seen Mr. Tiger yet. That sounds weird actually, please forget I said it like that. I haven’t seen your tiger,” he rambled, which wasn’t surprising. He had contained his thoughts for so long, now they had to burst forward to the present. Jacques laughed, unable to contain his own excitement, his own joy here as they sat in the forest together.

Jacques looked surprised by the statement, but then he supposed he had asked for that by being unsure about touching him. But really that was more of a concern for Raj’s comfort than his own. Because Jacques rarely thought of himself in those situations. He leaned in close to press a feather light kiss to his nose. “I trust you. I have since day one when you told me I was imagining tiger claws,” he commented with amusement. “It’s kind of nice knowing that was real.” He admitted, remembering how utterly confused he had been.