#Exotic Foliage Plants | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freesia-writes · 29 days

Text

Ch 42: Dancing

Master List ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ WC: 2.4k

FANART by @perfectlywingedart and @raevulsix and @the-little-moment 😍

Realizing that the scents and sounds of the Farmer’s Market had become a familiar, welcome experience, Hunter wove his way through the crowds as his eyes flitted from stand to stand. He was looking for something specific, but was beginning to panic that this was the one week a certain vendor might not have attended. Lyra usually visited the Market each week, but he’d asked her to avoid this one, insisting that she trust him and not ask questions when she started to poke at his mischievous secrecy. She’d relented, however, on the condition that he explain himself over dinner that night, and he’d agreed with a smug grin. It was all coming together perfectly.

Ah, there it was. Displaced from the typical stall near a fountain, he found the florist, where exotic plants and blooms of every color wafted their delicate fragrance through the air. It was mercifully empty, giving him ample space to inspect every single flower to try to find the perfect bunch. After a few minutes, the owner approached from behind the table, a knowing smile on her elderly face.

“Trouble choosing, dear?” Her voice was laced with such warmth that he immediately felt his tumult begin to quiet, a mildly bemused expression betraying the accuracy of her assessment.

“Yeah,” he admitted, gesturing to the numerous choices. “Nice spread you’ve got.”

“Tell me about her,” the woman invited, shuffling around to stand by his side, gazing at the wall of blooms before them.

“She’s…” he faltered, mind racing with so many things that he didn’t even know where to begin. A tiny touch on his forearm pulled his attention from the swirling cloud of possible descriptions in his mind, and he looked down at the florist.

“I know that look,” she giggled, a twinkle in her eye. She tapped the side of her nose and gave him an affectionate wink, then turned to her bouquets. “How big are we thinking?”

“Eh…” He was baffled, wanting to convey so much with a simple gift and yet aware of the fact that Lyra was not really a “big” sort of person… something he loved about her. “Not big, but…”

“Beautiful in its simplicity?”

“Exactly.” An unsuccessful attempt to hide his surprise at the woman’s uncanny knack for precision brought another delighted chuckle to her lips, and she turned to the table behind them, crooked fingers wiggling over the tops of the assortment as she searched. They landed on a textured brown pot that held a plant with long leaves that arched gracefully around some thick stems. Hanging from each stalk were some brightly-colored buds shaped like hearts, each one having a delicate design that made them look as though they were painted. They were small yet mesmerizing with their elegant curves, and the way they were tucked in among the foliage gave them an endearing sense of playfulness.

“They might seem cheesy at first,” the woman explained, holding up the pot and turning it slowly. “But they open up more when they bloom and are adorably unique. Trust me… They bring a smile every time.”

Hunter wasn’t sure, but as he scanned the rest of the table, he didn’t see any other options that stood out, and the woman’s guess was probably far more reliable than his own, so he gave her a nod and was on his way. He’d made it a few steps toward the road when an intimidating figure stepped into his way, and his grip tightened around the plant as he recognized the parasite from Lyra’s office.

“Hey, skullface,” Mullet Hanker began, running a hand through his neatly-styled hair. “Couple things for you…”

No reply came from the clone, who was already calculating a series of blows, some of which included the flowerpot and others without.

“Alright,” Hanker continued, unfazed. “First of all, cute.” He nodded at the flowerpot with a condescending smirk. “Second of all, I was a little too drunk at the Festival this year, so tell Vetana she doesn’t have to be all scared anymore. I’m still gonna need those admissions reports though.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes, chin lowering as he regarded the man with venomous intensity. “If you ever bother her again, you’re not gonna like what happens.”

“Hmm.” Hanker’s voice dropped while his back straightened, and there was no trace of remorse in his unmoving stare. “I’m sure it feels good to say that, short stack… But uh… I’m not someone who likes being told what to do, you see?” He shifted positions, pulling up the waistband of his pants a little and casting a seemingly casual glance around the area before leaning in for one last barb. “So… don’t waste your time threatening me.”

He sniffed, turning and strolling away as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Hunter stared after him, pursing his lips thoughtfully before continuing on the path out of town.

* * *

Fun Fact: @raevulsix was the first friend to EVER draw fanart for me (an undercover casino scene from Tech and Vel), and it's been so fun to see her style evolve over the last year and a half! Hunter's face is SO SOFT in this one, I'm deceased! 🥹

“Hi,” Lyra said warmly as she opened her door, a wide grin on her face as she saw Hunter hiding something behind his back. He’d spent the rest of the day preparing for his plans that night, and now that it was dinnertime, he felt jittery with anticipation. “Whatcha got there?”

“You’ll see,” he grinned, producing nothing but a large sackcloth carefully tented around whatever was beneath it.

“What about the ‘no secrets’ rule?” she teased, squinting suspiciously at him as they made their way to the back of the cottage.

“It’s not a secret, it’s a surprise. Completely different.”

“Getting by on a technicality, hmm? Alright…” She slipped her arms around his waist, brushing the backs of her fingers across his cheek before turning her head and enveloping him in a hug. When she released him and stepped back, he noticed her appearance. Even more so than the other night, she’d dressed up as best she could. Her long brown hair fell in soft waves behind a deep teal dress with flutter sleeves. On her upper arm was a delicate design of small chains that wove in an intricate pattern around her bicep, and she was proudly sporting the sea glass necklace he’d made for her. Her features were enhanced with makeup, something he hadn’t yet seen aside from the heavy disguise she’d worn to Keytoll, and she brought a hand to her cheek self-consciously as she noticed his study of her face.

“That’s new,” he commented, a fond smile on his face. “It looks–”

“Like Pa’lowick paint, I know,” she deflected, brushing her eyebrows into place. He laughed.

“No, it’s… fancy.”

“Well you said to be fancy,” she answered with a grin.

“Indeed I did.”

“You look pretty handsome yourself,” she effused, taking in the smooth red shirt he was wearing, a contrast to the usual earth tones and textures he gravitated toward. “Pants are a little tighter than usual.”

“Yeah,” he groaned, looking down with his own flicker of embarrassment. “I thought they were–”

“A nice treat,” she finished, beaming at the snort it earned from him.

“You’re ridiculous,” he purred, deeply content. She gave him a playful salute, then began clearing the last few things from her table.

“So… What’s the plan?”

A half hour later found the two of them meandering through the restaurants in the center of town, Hunter’s fingers entwined with hers as he led the way. They rounded a corner, one of the local eateries coming into view, but it was completely dark inside, front doors closed and locked. A chain hung between two poles at the base of a flight of stairs that led up the side of the building, and he deftly freed it from one of the posts, inviting her up the steps before replacing it once they were past.

“Breaking and entering isn’t usually my style,” she murmured uncertainly.

“I didn’t break anything,” he smirked, taking her hand again as they climbed. The stairs made a sharp turn around the corner of the stucco structure then emerged at the top, which was a flat rooftop garden illuminated by string lights. A small fountain tinkled peacefully in the corner, tucked amid lush vines and bushes, yet the center of the space was noticeably empty.

Lyra shot him an inquisitive look, but he maintained his calm exterior and led her to the center, releasing her hand momentarily to take a few steps away, where he reached between the foliage and pressed a button. Soft music began to play, an old tune he knew she loved, and her eyebrows arched together as she recognized the nostalgic melody. He slowly walked back to her, holding out his hand, and she took it immediately. He pulled her in close, arranging them into a dance position, but she suddenly broke loose.

“Hunter…” she said in trepidation. “I don’t know how to dance.”

“It’s nothing special,” he said quietly, inviting her in again. “Just an excuse for me to hug you for a really long time… while shuffling in a circle so you can enjoy the scenery.”

She chuckled, coming back into his embrace, and tentatively began to follow his gentle sway, unable to resist a smile. Her favorite person, her favorite song, a beautiful place… It was heaven.

The texture! The lights! The sweet tenderness! @perfectlywingedcrusade is a freaking wizard!

“I saw you dancing with Luciana,” she murmured, catching him off guard with such an abrupt change of topic. She lifted her head slightly to regard him honestly. “I’ll never be able to dance like that.” Her admission felt hurtful to him somehow, and he ached for her to see herself as he did.

“I don’t want you to,” he reassured, shifting his arm more snugly around her waist and leaning his forehead against hers. “This is all I want.”

She sighed, assuaged for the time being, and closed her eyes at the intimacy of his closeness. Emotions that he couldn’t begin to name filled his chest, and he stroked the back of her hand with a thumb, taking a deep breath in an attempt to quiet the deep yearning that was growing every second. They turned slowly, a light breeze nudging Lyra closer against him. When the song faded to quiet, she opened her eyes and found his, an adoring smile on her face.

Hunter released her hand, cupping her cheek and brushing the rough pad of his thumb along its curve. It was soft, like her. Gentle, like her. Inviting, like her. She lifted her chin the tiniest bit, enamored with the tenderness in his eyes. He licked his lips, inhaling quietly. When he spoke, his voice was husky and quiet.

“I love you.”

She was delightfully surprised and yet not surprised at all, her smile widening as her eyes glistened with joy. She opened her mouth to respond, hesitating for a beat, but he couldn’t wait a moment longer.

Hunter closed the distance between their faces in a split second, pressing his lips to hers. A sharp inhale through her nose sent a jolt of tension through him, but as she melted against him, he relaxed into the euphoric moment that he’d wanted for so long. Her lips were unbelievably soft, her body surrendered against his, and waves of utter bliss cascaded from his head to his toes. Slipping his hand a little farther around her neck to cradle the back of her head, he pulled away for a breath before bringing his mouth to hers again. Her heart was pounding, mimicking his own, and yet beneath the onslaught of elation and desire, there was a singular, calm tranquility that rose to the surface. His soul had found its home.

He lingered there, regretfully taking a step back only when his mind had slowed its reeling enough for him to have some sense of clarity and he noticed that she had gradually begun to sink lower and lower as though her knees were giving out. A chortle escaped his lips as he steadied her with the arm around her waist, pulling her close against his chest. She slowly opened her eyes, barely able to restrain her exuberant glee. He brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek with worshipful adoration, and after a few seconds, she spoke.

“I told you I’d need to be sitting down for that,” she whispered blissfully, and he laughed freely.

“Sorry,” he murmured, nuzzling against the side of her face before placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. She shivered, basking in his unrestrained affection.

“Second of all…” She tightened her arms around him. “I love you, Hunter. So much.” Her eyes met his with clear admiration, stirring and soothing at the same time. Now it was she who lifted her hand, allowing his arms to rest at her waist, and stroked a few strands of hair away from his face, caressing down the side as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. There was a sense of surrender that he never wanted to let go of, a supreme happiness he’d never imagined he could have. She cupped his face with both hands, leaning in to kiss him on the lips again, and he felt as though his heart could burst.

He never wanted it to end.

“But…” she mumbled, finally tearing herself away and regarding him with a rummy sort of satisfaction. The single word struck him to the core, chilling the radiant warmth he’d been radiating. “We still need to eat dinner.”

He laughed, flushing with fondness at her ridiculous, adorable self, and still found himself rendered speechless by the supreme happiness he felt.

“Let’s grab a pizza,” Lyra suggested, silly with glee.

“I love you so much,” he chuckled, taking her hand to enjoy one of the many evenings he hoped to share with her.

And the SWEETEST moment captured by @the-little-moment, haha, with such tenderness and beauty and heartwarming awe.

Cheesy but perfect: La Vie En Rose by Louis Armstrong ( lyrics ) (youtube.com)

Previous Chapter ~ Master List ~ Next Chapter

Join the tag list by commenting for the discord server link or filling out my form.

@techhasmjolnir @falconfeather23435 @ladylucksrogue @padawancat97 @baddest-batchers

@anxiouspineapple99 @yunggoblin @littlefeatherr @cw80831 @all-mights-babygirl

@totallyunidentified @lightwise @moonstrider9904 @clonemedickix @dangraccoon

@nursekyra @callsign-denmark @heidnspeak @stardusthuntress @lune-de-miel-au-paradis

@ivyyyyy @kashasenpai @followthepurrgil @littlemissmanga @littlemissbshine

@crosshairscrustysock @lamiliani @skellymom @burningnerdchild @galaxyofthoughts99

@sweeticedtea @starrylothcat @mxkyrie @reader6898 @eyecandyeoz

@trixie2023 @vrycurious @youreababboon @photogirl894 @subbing-for-clones

@yve-barr @salaminus @ezras-left-thumb @etod @dhawerdaverd

@techsgalaxy02 @shadowphantomreaper @violatiger8 @flowered-bicycles @nursekyra

47 notes · View notes

saint-ambrosef · 23 days

Text

climate change fatalism is so exhausting. it easily becomes a ecological scapegoat to blame instead of humans taking accountability for how their individual actions affect the environment.

i had a conversation earlier in a fb garden group where a women told me that since desertification was changing her local landscape and making it harder to grow native plants, it was actually okay and even good of her to be planting invasive exotic species that could adapt to the "new normal" climate in her area so that the wildlife would have at least something for shade/shelter/food. in the same message she mentioned trying to eradicate native weeds on their acreage because it had no personal use to her or her non-native livestock.

and i was like. no girl. the desertification in your area has been caused by decades of bad agricultural land management practices, something that is fully reversible. those weeds you are ripping out provide more benefit to wildlife than your nasty exotics, and ranchers removing these "undesirable" natives for decades is why the land has grown barren. planting invasive exotics to replace the artificial loss of biodiversity will only hasten the problem you seek to fix.

but the point of my post isn't this specific woman, it's the general attitude she represents. it's a lot easier to blame the nebulous figure of climate change than to work toward ecological restoration. it's simpler to plant invasive exotics than to reverse decades of poor land management. it's more enjoyable to grow a pretty flowering shrub and pretend it's necessary due to climate change than to allow native ragweed to grow even though the allergies suck because it feeds the birds and pollinators. and it's a helluva lot easier to blame climate change for the worsening of your local environment than to admit that overgrazing your livestock and ripping out native plants just because they have no immediate value to you might have contributed heavily to the decline of your microbiome.

climate change has quickly become this collective responsibility that no one individual is responsible for, because it's so easy to blame the slightest change in environment on it. "we're running out of water because of climate change!" it's because urban landscaping practices channel away water instead of letting it soak into the groundwater wells, and turf lawns use 80% of the city water. "the city is so much hotter now!" yeah because twenty years ago developers planted fast-growing but short-lived/weak trees which have now all died, meaning our roads and neighborhoods have way less shade and foliage to absorb the heat. "the bees are disappearing because of climate change!" sharon it's because there's not a single thing in your yard that a native pollinator would recognize as a food source.

anyways i don't know where exactly i'm going with this. i guess i'm just tired of climate change fatalism because it removes personal incentive to do anything to reverse environmental harm that we could be fixing on an individual level. but "global warming" has become a very convenient excuse for many people, unfortunately.

just makes me wonder how often things blamed on climate change are actually a result of direct human actions that are reversible

35 notes · View notes

madamlaydebug · 1 month

Text

🌺 Exotic Tropical Orchid 🌺

These magnificent blooms are the striking flowers of the tropical Orchid plant. The vibrant, bold petals in shades of deep maroon and speckled cream create a breathtaking, almost surreal display. The lush, architectural foliage provides a dramatic backdrop, enhancing the tropical allure.

Light: Full sun to partial shade.

Water: Keep soil consistently moist, but avoid overwatering.

Soil: Rich, well-draining potting mix.

Temp: 65-85°F (18-29°C).

Humidity: Moderate to high.

Fertilizer: Use a balanced, water-soluble fertilizer every 2-3 weeks during the growing season.

The Orchid is truly captivating, mesmerizing all who behold its magnificent, larger-than-life blooms. Their vibrant colors and intricate, unique petals evoke a sense of lush, tropical splendor. A must-have for any plant enthusiast seeking to add a touch of the tropics to their collection! 🌺✨

#houseplants #Plants #garden #leaf

25 notes · View notes

bharatvarsh22 · 8 months

Text

Create a vibrant summer garden with container gardening. Choose heat-tolerant plants for pots and planters to bring beauty and freshness to your space.

Do Visit: https://bharatvarshnaturefarms.com/container-gardening-for-summer-choosing-heat-tolerant-plants-for-pots-and-planters/

1 note · View note

jillraggett · 5 months

Text

Plant of the Day

Wednesday 8 May 2024

In this exotic foliage garden the Fatsia japonica 'Tsumugi-shibori' (Japanese aralia 'Spider's Web', false castor oil plant) provides interest even in the winter. This evergreen shrub has dark-green leaves heavily-speckled with white, particularly at the edges, but the white variegation can sometimes spread across the whole leaf.

Jill Raggett

#fatsia #Japanese aralia #Spider's Web #false castor oil plant #plants #evergreen #shrub #foliage #variegated #variegation #horticulture #gardens #garden #subtropical #Sussex #Great Dixter

62 notes · View notes

littjara-mirrorlake · 5 months

Text

Stellaris Spec Bio - N'kori Cultivators

(My worldbuilding and concepts for this empire have also been posted on Reddit 2 years ago. A lot of this post repeats it. It is a bit outdated relative to current Stellaris updates, but stands on its own.)

Empire screen lore blurb:

The world of Kori'ka is named for the great tree whose roots dominate its biosphere, with continent-sized branches and foliage that forms the base of a rich, thriving food chain. The plantfolk N'korii are the reproductive structures of the tree, having evolved sapience and intelligence to more effectively spread Kori'ka's seeds across the galaxy. Not all modern N'korii wholly devote themselves to this purpose, believing it is within their capabilities to forge a new path.

The tree known as Kori'ka is in fact a vast population of one species, intertwined enough to be considered a single entity. The system's star Leira produces high amounts of short-wavelength radiation (UV and above), and the leaves of Kori'ka shelter the life below from the harshest of these rays.

Kori'ka works opposite to the Earth trees we're accustomed to, in which the dominant sporophyte stage holds the gametophyte inside itself. Instead, the massive tree-like structure of Kori'ka is the dominant gametophyte, and the asexual sporophytes are N'korii, born of fertilized seeds from the tree itself. (They have no sexes or genders to speak of.) This is the lore reason for their ability to create Gaia Seeders on new worlds.

The empire uses the Syncretic Evolution origin. The syncretic species are fungoids known as the Kor'kiiri, inspired by the intimate mycorrhizal association of fungi with plant roots in our world. They are not members of the same species as Kori'ka and the N'korii, but co-evolved with them in a tight symbiosis.

Their Inorganic Breath trait provides early access to exotic gases, helping create Gaia Seeders. Mycorrhizae help plants uptake nutrients, so they're Agrarian as well. The -2 traits were chosen out of mechanical limitations, but my best lore reason is that they're much more effective at creating organic products than amenities (Repugnant), and there are simply more of them per "pop" unit, increasing the empire size (Unruly).

The sapience of Kor'kiiri has been a big question in my worldbuilding process. My mind changes on this sometimes, but for now I will say that they're not quite sapient in the humanoid sense, more like an intelligent "animal" species that have always been the close companions of N'korii. Comparable to parrots, maybe. Their resource creation stems more from their biological processes than the actual performance of jobs.

Politically, the N'korii are friendly disciples of nature (xenophile spiritualists) who seek to use Kori'ka's rejuvenating seedlings to improve the biodiversity of the galaxy's many worlds, focusing on terraforming technology to rehabilitate even the most inhospitable planets.

Linguistic note: plurals are denoted by double vowels.

#stellaris #speculative biology #worldbuilding #plantoid #fungoid #creature design

38 notes · View notes

scarletst0ries · 1 month

Text

TWST: The EPIC saga p4 Open Arms

Main characters: Jamil Viper(Odysseus) and Kalim Al-Asim(Polites)

Style: Song fic

CW: PTSD?, implied drug use, death threats

Inspired by @werewolfbyknight��s character ideas for the AU

Masterlist A/N: Almost done with the first Saga!!! I’ll make a master post once it’s done. I decided I hated myself when I was writing the Lotus Eater’s part….

The captain and Kalim walk deep into the island’s jungle. Kalim is eagerly looking around at the exotic foliage while the captain is tense, his eyes darting to every shadow. Eventually, the beach becomes hidden by the dense jungle. The cheerful man looks at the captain and slows down to match his pace with a big smile.

“You can relax my friend,” Kalim says and he grabs the captain’s hand. The captain stops walking and looks at him with a slightly annoyed expression.

“Huh?” He asks, not really listening to his companion.

Kalim seems to not notice, “I can tell you’re getting nervous, so do yourself a service,” He places his hand on the captain’s shoulder and flashes him a big, toothy smile, “And try to relax my friend!”

The captain lets out a small grunt and shakes off Kalim’s hand. He begins to walk deeper into the jungle.

“I’m fine Kalim,” The captain wasn’t sure is he believed it himself.

The captain’s companion quickly caught up to him. His saccharine grin was quickly replaced with a sympathetic smile. The war has taken a toll on all of them.

“Think of all that we have been through, we’ll survive what we get into!”

The captain clears out a cluster of vines with a blast of fire as they keep walking.

“I know that you’re tired of the war and bloodshed. Tell me, is this how we’re supposed to live?” He asks, mostly to himself.

Kalim almost skips ahead of his companion. He grabs his own magical pen and gingerly moves some plants out of their way, stopping the captain from burning them. Kalim points at the captain’s hand.

“Look at how you grip your pen in upset. Why should we take when we could give! You can show a person that you trust them when you stop and lower your guard,” He gushed. He grabs both of the captain’s hands, “Here we have a chance for some adjustment, give it a try it’s not that hard!”

He drags the captain into spinning in a circle.

“This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms,” He giggled and spins the captain, “Whatever we face, we’ll be fine if we’re leading from the heart!”

The captain breaks free from Kalim’s one-sided dance, but unforgettable for him gets dragged through the undergrowth on an increasingly visible path.

Kalim runs with the captain, ignoring his various passive-aggressive protests, and they find an entrance to a clearing.

He jumped up and down, rejoicing, “No matter the place, we can light up the world here’s how to start,” He inches closer to the captain, “Greet the world with open arm! Greet the world with open arms-“

“WeLcOmE!” Two voices interrupt. One was from a monochromatic person and the other belongs to a small…cat? The only similarity between them is black, lightless eyes and black ooze dripping from their mouths. The captain gets in front of Kalim and he draws his pen.

“STAY BACK!” He yells at the pair who shrink back terrified.

“STAY back,” The two mutter, the more human of the two getting in front. Kalim nervously looks between the captain and the strangers, trying to think of a way to diffuse the situation.

He places a hand on the captain’s shoulder as a reminder, “My friend, greet the world with open arms.” The captain sighs and lowers his pen. “We’re only here for food,” he states calmly.

“FoOd?” They ask.

“Six hundred friends are waiting for us to show our faces.”

“FoOd!” They rush close to them. He draws his pen again.

“Stay back Im warning you!”

“Food,” The human-like one goes to where the cat is munching on something on the ground, “om nom nom…”

”If we don’t come back safely our men will turn this place into blazes.”

“HERE YOU GO,” The human hands them a mushy black fruit that looks similar to what the cat is eating. They back up with a small smile, black ooze dripping onto their chin.

“See!?” Kalim exclaims and begins dancing with the strangers. “This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms!

The captain notices the black sheen on the fruit’s rind.

“Whatever we face, we’ll be fine if we’re leading from the heart!”

The captain breaks the fruit open and reveals shiny seeds that glow with otherworldly light.

“No matter the place, we can light up the world here’s how to start!”

The captain sniffs it. It smells like death.

“Greet the world with open arms. Greet the world with open arms!”

The captain crushes the fruit beneath his foot. He glares at the two strangers who are innocently dancing with Kalim. He walks up to the sunny man and yanks him away from the pair.

“My friend, I wish that I could say that I agree, but look at how this fruit is shining and filled with glowing seeds. It took me awhile just what kind of fruit they eat; it’s a blotfruit, it controls your mind and never sets you free,” He steps away from the eccentric pair, “That’s what we’d get with open arms.”

Kalim notices that the two blotfruit eaters look upset that the captain rejected their gift. He tries to soften the blow, “Blotfruit eaters, I’d like to show my friend that kindness is brave. Can you tells us where there’s other food to eat?”

Both of their sets of inky eyes light up, “ THE CAVE! scary cave!”

“A cave?! You’re saying there’s a cave where we could feast? And where do we sail to find this food-filled cave?”

“EAST! that way!” The cat like one points in the direction.

Kalim clasps both of their hands one right after the other, “Thank you!”

They grin, showing blackened teeth, “WeLcOmE”

The captain and Kalim begin to walk back to the ship. Kalim stops and gives the captain a soft smile, noticing his tired state.

“This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms, I see in your face there’s so much guilt inside your heart. So why not replace it and light up the world here’s how to start,” He pulls the captain into a warm hug, “Greet the world with opens arms.”

For once, the captain doesn’t shove Kalim off.

“….greet the world with open arms,” He mutters.

“You can relax my friend.”

After a few moments, they stop hugging and walk back to the ship. The captain doesn’t notice the eyes of a lion watching them from the shadows of the bushes…

_________________________________________

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #jamil viper #twst kalim #kalim al asim #twst jamil #twst yuu #yuusona #grim #twst grim #songfic #twst: the epic saga

14 notes · View notes

riptideac · 1 month

Text

"all dragons are obsessed with treasure and hoard wealth" okay. fine. whatever. but have you considered that they are individuals. and they are extremely long lived if not immortal.

I propose that with all the time in the world spent hoarding that which captures their interest, dragons are very prone to developing HYPERFIXATIONS.

Hey so this was supposed to be a joke post but i blacked out and accidentally wrote a nearly 2,000 word emotional short story so uh hang in there i promise it’s worth it

================================================

A dragon takes notice that birds' wings are built differently from their own, wonders why, and spends the next millennia studying birds. Their lair is filled with colorful feathers. A region which has a known problem with trophy hunters and poachers killing exotic birds for their beautiful feathers suddenly sees a change in atmosphere when poachers who go into the woods stop coming back.

================================================

A group of adventurers are hired to confront a dragon that lives nearby a village. The dragon's presence has been known for a long time, and it has never caused issues in the past, but recently multiple farmers have reported large sections of their fields being destroyed in the night. Upon reaching the dragon's lair, they discover that the land outside its laid is filled with rows of fertile soil that look as if they have been tilled with giant claws, with sprouts and flowers growing out of them. They talk to the dragon and discover that it has recently taken up an interest in gardening. A deal is struck to provide the dragon with various plants and farming advice, granted it does not touch the village's food sources. The creature enthusiastically agrees.

================================================

A dragon who lives in the mountains is rumored to be an ancient among ancients, a million years old and more, one who has witnessed all of history with its own eyes and seen it become myth. One brave historian sets out to climb to its home with bags full of gifts in hopes of gaining the opportunity to speak with this living legend, if even only for a moment.

After a long, difficult journey, the historian finds the mouth of a grand cave buried in a crevice between two particularly craggy peaks, hidden from a casual glance by shadows and rough foliage. She creeps inside carefully, wondering if after the dozens of caves she has inspected, THIS may finally be the one she has been searching for. Glints of reflected light catch her eye - scattered around the cavern are various small piles of coins and gems. The woman's heart leaps. This is a dragon's lair!

But, hold on. There is far too little treasure here for it to truly be the home of an ancient great wyrm. Creeping deeper into the belly of the mountain, guided by sunlight filtering into the cave between the crags, she takes notice of more piles. Larger piles. But these piles are not of gold or jewels or treasure. They seem to be mountains comprised of thousands upon thousands of regular rocks. The smallest being mere pebbles, while some reached the size of her or even larger, but they were still just rocks. She hesitates for only a moment before inching towards the nearest of these mounds. The woman selects a stone, about the size of her fist and colored with bands of lighter and darker orangish tints. As she brings the stone up to her eyes, the small amount of light filtering into the space illuminates a less uniform face. Ridges twist and turn across the stone's smooth surface, forming an elegant pattern. No, not a pattern; a shape. An organic form. This stone contains the fossilized remains of some kind of rodent.

The light source which was illuminating this discovery suddenly goes out. The historian starts in surprise and twists towards the entrance. The light of the setting sun illuminates the silhouette of a winged creature in the doorway, staring directly at her with piercing eyes which seemed to breathe their own light, brighter than the sun far behind.

Dragons never stop growing. Their bodies will become larger and larger until they are one day defeated by the laws of the universe. The unknowably ancient, legendary creature standing before her, who had witnessed all of history and more, stood about eight to ten feet tall. This creature couldn't be much more than a century old, perhaps two.

The now curious historian drops to her knees and makes a display of peace. The dragon seems wary of her, but has not attacked yet; she must gain its favor to keep it that way. She proffers the gifts she had brought for the creature - gifts of treasure and knowledge and reverence - and keeps her head held down. The moments that follow stretch into an eternity. Rhythmic clicks echo throughout the expansive cave. With each step the wyrm takes, its claws scrape the ground. With her head held down, the woman struggles to contain her anxiety. A burst of warm air washes over her. Out of the peripherals of her eyes, a flash of movement. A scaled snout enters her view, covered with beautiful scales of a vibrant, shining blue, made to look green in some places by the reflected remnants of light from the setting sun. The mouth opens, revealing a sea of teeth. This is it. She has failed. She is going to be eaten.

But the mouth continues further into her view. Past her head, past her arms holding up her gift. To the ground. To the banded stone, which she had dropped at her feet in her fear. when the creature first arrived.

Gently, the opalescent beast picks up the stone, walks past her, and returns it to its place in the pile. Her stance broken, the historian watches in awe. With its back still to her, a presence pierces the woman's mind. A torrent of thoughts and feelings, images and visions pour into her, threatening to overwhelm her, before coalescing into a single, coherent voice that echoes throughout her skull.

Why have you come here?

The woman is motionless for a moment, and a moment further as she processes what just occurred. "I am a historian and researcher, from the college in the town of Arcturia, a few weeks north of here. My whole life I have heard tales of a legendary dragon, ancient beyond measure, who has witnessed history and seen it become myth. Since I was a child, I have longed to speak to this great being, to learn of what they know, to witness the wisdom of the millennia. I ask, could that story be of you?"

A low rolling noise emits from the wyrm's throat. With a shock, the woman realizes that it is reminiscent of laughter.

I knew that fool would tell others of my existence. When I was last visited by one of your kind a hundred years ago, I took something of a liking to him, and we spent some time exchanging stories. But my, it seems the stories he brought back have grown out of hand.

The great creature turned away from the pile of rocks. As it repositioned itself, the woman had to duck to avoid getting clipped by its tail, a cord of muscle and scale twenty feet long tipped by two large flaps of material similar to that which made up the dragon's wings. It swung its long neck towards her suddenly. She jumped in surprise again, but restrained herself from further reaction. For a moment, the creature regarded her, its brilliant jewels of eyes, wellsprings of deep blue mixed with tinges of green and slitted pupils which narrowed in focus. Then the creature shifted, tension gathering in its legs as its wings spread open, and jumped in a single explosive motion directly over her head. Craning her neck to follow its movement, the woman saw the gigantic wings snap downwards in one powerful stroke, and that single flap carried the creature upwards towards an outcrop of stone that overlooked the rest of the chamber, ten to fifteen feet off the ground. Landing heavily on the ledge, the dragon took a moment to align itself, then settled into a casual laying position with its front feet dangling over the ledge, its tail swaying gently in the air like the pendulum of a grandfather clock, and its head turned towards her. The creature blinked.

It's true that I know many things of many times. I have seen the distant past. I have seen things that have been and things that are, and I can guess things that may be. But the story you know of me is only a half truth. I am not ancient. I am not wise. I know much, but I have experienced little. I hatched less than two hundred years ago.

The historian attempted to calm her heart; the racing in her chest was nearly louder than the dragon's voice, and she couldn't afford to miss a single word. "Then, may I ask... how is it that you know so much? Humans tell many stories, and they are known to exaggerate, but even exaggerated stories whose truth is buried deep to have a truth. If you are so young, how do you know the past?"

The dragon's neck swung in an arc away from her, breaking eye contact. It turned to survey the inside of the cavern, casting its eye over the many piles of seemingly unremarkable rocks that filled it. You seem intelligent, as humans go. I believe you know that answer.

The woman turned her head towards the pile she had been inspecting before the creature's arrival. Her eyes caught the same stone she had picked up minutes before, placed carefully back onto the pile by its owner. A thought crossed her mind.

Her eyes darted throughout the chamber, to pile after pile. It was difficult to make out at a glance, but she began to notice them. They were everywhere. This cave was filled with rolling dunes of perfectly preserved fossils. It was a dragon's hoard.

You humans regard us with awe and wonder. Our existence fills your storybooks. You see us as mysterious and powerful. We are powerful. But that power is indeed a mystery, even to us.

Dragon magic is ancient, tied to the world itself, tied to things that have long been forgotten. From the moment of our birth we hold a flame within us. That flame can be shaped throughout our lives, and manifest in different forms. Every dragon has the ability of flight, and every dragon develops some primal breath of the elements. But every dragon also has something more. We do not understand or control it; many dragons spend centuries without discovering theirs. But it exists in us all.

Living beings do not simply exist without consequence. They are a part of the world. A part of our universe. And a part of time. Though they themselves are often not aware of it, they remember. No matter how much time passes, the imprint of a soul left behind when it dies will remember what it used to be. I do not know or understand it, but I can read these imprints. I can know them. I can see who, what, where, and when they used to be. This is how I know.

*********************

A great beast's shining eyes slowly open. The sun sets over the horizon, casting long shadows into its cave.

Slowly, the dragon stands up and straightens out. Its body stretches, its tail curls, its neck extends. It looks up to the roof of the cave, mere feet away. Straightened in this way, the creature stands over a hundred feet tall; it can hardly fit within its own home anymore.

The beast casts its gaze downwards once more. There, on the floor of the cave, sits a chunk of limestone it had brought back recently. Within the limestone, raised ridges form beautiful organic shapes of something that is not just rock.

A crystalline tear forms in the corner of the dragon's eye. the drop of water clings to its snout before breaking free, falling through the air, and finally hitting the floor of the cavern with a soft, echoing drip. The great dragon reaches down to pick up the chunk of limestone, and gently ferries it up to an outcrop of stone that overlooks the rest of the chamber. This one would not go with the rest. The stone was set down in a place of honor and importance, and the legendary dragon, ancient beyond measure, who has witnessed history and seen it become myth, let loose a roar that shook the earth and echoed across the valleys, one which was heard as far as the city of Arcturia weeks to the north, in mourning for the second human it had ever considered a friend.

16 notes · View notes

kydrogendragon · 9 months

Text

Dec 23 - Twinkling Lights

(Ao3 Link) (Masterpost Link)

The greenhouse is warm inside. It makes sense, given that the plants inside of here require more heat and humidity than the current climate outside can provide. Hob had suggested visiting the greenhouse lights before they closed down for the season. It was after Christmas and the new year was just days away. Because of that, it was significantly less busy and crowded than it would have been if they had gone the week before.

“First impressions - what do you think?” Hob asks to his left, staring at him with a hesitant expression. Morpheus looked around, his eyes trailing across the various exotic plants and greenery, all wrapped and spun with various lights and ornaments. The lights twinkled, the rainbow of colors softly glowing against the green and purple leaves. It truly was a breath-taking sight. Morpheus couldn’t help but be reminded by dreams he had wove for children back when he was Dream.

He gives Hob’s hand a gentle squeeze and turns to look into his warm brown eyes. “It looks magnificent.” Hob smiles, the warmth of the sun shining over Morpheus’s face at it’s sight.

“Good. I thought you might enjoy this.” He pulls them forward along the path. “C’mon. They decorated one of their large trees further in. It’s supposed to be the highlight of the tour.”

“Should we not save such a treat for the end?” Morpheus rebuts with a sly smile.

“Touche.” Hob looks around their immediate sphere and nods to the first grouping of plants. “Well then, my dear. Shall we take the scenic route?”

“Gladly.”

They weave their way through the expansive greenhouse. In truth, it was closer to a zoo, but just for foliage. Or an expansive indoor garden. There were multiple plaques littered across the pre-planned paths, all describing the different types of plants that could be found in the small section in front of it. Morpheus enjoyed reading the details on each one. From the scientific names to the preferred climate to the uses of each plant, he read each one, taking their teachings to heart.

Hob pointed out some that he’d seen on his various journeys to foreign lands in his long life. He promised Morpheus that he’d show him the world one day. And when humanity figured out how to make space travel a constant, he’d take him out among the stars as well.

Morpheus, with his long life as an Endless, has, in theory, seen all of this before. But the human mind was only meant to hold so many memories in it at one time, so many of the details have been lost. But the idea of experiencing the wonders of the Waking world again, with Hob at his side, no less, was a thrilling one. It fills his heart with a joy he is beginning to learn comes whenever he is with Hob. It is a feeling he would not trade for anything.

They continue their journey through different times and regions, different climates and soils, until they finally weave their way to the center of the greenhouse. This dome is the largest of all the others and for good reason. Various trees, taller than those that fit within the other modules they had visited before, are nestled in groups that hug close to the dirt walkways. Each tree is strung with lights, the soft warm glow giving the entire place a sense of otherworldly grace. The moment they cross the threshold, Morpheus gasps at the beauty.

There is a photographer station in front of the large tree in the center. A small line extends out of people waiting for their turn. A vine covered arch, also strung with lights, rests in the background. Looking up at Hob, Morpheus asks, “Could we take a photo together?”

Hob looks down at him, the glimmering lights dancing in his eyes and the soft golden glow highlighting the curves of his face with such beauty that Morpheus can feel himself falling in love with his man all over again. Hob cups his cheek and smiles. “Of course we can, duck.”

And so the pair make their way into the line. There are only a few parties ahead of them, mostly other couples, but there are a few families present as well. Hob releases Morpheus’s hand so he can wrap it around his shoulders, pulling him into his side. Morpheus relaxes into the familiar position.

“Successful date then?” Hob mummers into his inky black hair.

They move forward as the next group is called forward. “Yes. Very successful, I would say.”

The photograph gets hung on the fridge right beside the Polaroids Hob took of Morpheus on Christmas morning, the terrible printed out selfie from their skiing adventure and their night out at the opera from much earlier on. I’m going to need to buy a new photo book, he thinks to himself as he stands back from the fridge. New book for his new life with his best friend, his boyfriend, his old Stranger. He turns around to gaze lovingly at the sight of his boyfriend curled up on their couch, a plethora of blankets piled on top of his form as he pecks away at the keys on his laptop.

“Hey!” He calls out. Morpheus’s head lifts, not unlike a meerkat hearing an unexpected noise. “I love you.”

Morpheus huffs, but can’t hide the smile nor the blush on his cheeks. “I love you as well.”

#dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the sandman #ky writes #december writing list #kydrogen's december drabbles 2023

37 notes · View notes

watcher-with-burned-wings · 7 months

Text

Wake Me Up, Let This Be A Dream

(A twist on session 7 of Secret Life)

Years have passed since the beginning of the end. It had all started with mythical creatures appearing out of thin air. Manticores and griffins appeared in the forests. Selkies, sirens, and sea monsters ruled the seas. Unicorns appeared along with other mythical animals, but these myths were not the downfall of humanity. Among these creatures, giants resided, ruling above every other creature.

The monstrous humanoids started decimating the human population. At first, few people were killed, as not many giants existed. As giants multiplied, whole communities seemed to disappear after a few giants had passed through the area. Anyone's guess was whether they were eaten, crushed, or disappeared. Countries were falling quickly as the populations were decimated. Granted, giants were still few compared to humans by the time the human population was nearly extinct.

The governments of the world had tried to destroy them with military power, but the most powerful creatures were immune to the bullets and bombs. Any attempt failed, only making the mythical beasts more aggressive. Soon all the remaining governments fell into the hands of giants. They were the rulers of the world now.

When the world first ended, many giants were feral, consuming whole cities of people and destroying everything in their path. But this was short-lived, many gained sense and started communicating and talking with humans. Only a few retained the feral mindset. Some even tried to compromise with the world's governments before resorting to destroying them after the attacks. Many giants decided to settle in small groups and built large houses to live with one another. Many of these groups were secluded to only their members but used trained griffins to send messages to other groups. Soon small societies popped up as giants began bartering and trading for essentials with other groups.

With the new species appearing, the natural world changed around as well. All trees now stood as tall as the great redwoods and continued to grow taller. Besides trees, plants became larger as well. Cites were quickly being overgrown by these new exotic plants. New magical rocks also appear to spring up in canyons and bluffs. Fresh water became scarce and hard to come by with the new creatures. Weather patterns have changed as well. Summer has heated up to exceptional levels. Winter temperatures have plummeted deep into the negatives. Fall and Spring can change instantly from warm sunny days to bone-chilling, frostbiting days. With all the odds stacked against them, nearly all humans have gone extinct, with a few exceptions…

=============

A blue-haired human male dashed through the large colorful leaves and bushes, hopping over log-sized twigs that fell from the large tree around him. His blue jacket wrapped tightly around his waist, leaving him in a once-white tee shirt with a blue heart. His jeans were dirty and ripped in several places. In his arms, he carried large bird feathers. An aggravated screech sounded from behind closed him. A creature with an eagle’s head and a lion's body bound through the foliage. Large, feathered wings propelled the creature forward, but the monster was missing several feathers, making it hard to fly. The guy didn’t even look back as he bolted towards his goal.

Anger chirps and caws continued to chase down the human. The human continued dodging and ducking swipes the massive paws of the exotic beast delivered. Leading the creature down towards a seemingly dead end, trapped between a couple of saplings and a large, towering boulder. The human spun around to face the angered lionbird. Slowly, it prowled forward, claws flexing as it backed the blue-haired guy into the rock. Just as the creature pounced, the human dived into a small hole dug between the roots of one of the saplings. The guy shouted as he dove, “Now Grian!”

A red sweater-wearing sandy-blond haired man sprang from the top of the rock, holding a crossbow loaded with purple stone-tipped arrows. Firing the arrow, he hit the beast mid-air in the back leg. The fabled icon cried out in fury and pain as electric poison sunk into its body, causing it to bite at the arrow and favor its back leg.

The new human called out, “Cleo it’s poisoned! You can go for the kill!” He shouted.

A red-haired, green-skinned woman with a black stone sword dropped out of the branches of one of the trees, landing square on the creature's back. She used the momentum of the fall to stab the sword deep into the neck of the griffin. The creature screamed as she pulled the sword through its neck and she slid off the side, pulling the blade down with her. She pulled the sword out of the griffin as the wound bubbled and spread. The griffin fell dead a few seconds later due to the poison and wither coursing through its body and the neck wound.

Cleo sheathed her blade and called out, “Scott! You good?”

Said person pulled himself from the hole, brushing himself off, grumbling, “Next time I’m shooting the shot with my bow and Grian is baiting.” He shoved his feathers he grabbed into his backpack and then pulled out a knife. He started removing the feathers of the griffin’s wing.

Having just slid down from the boulder, Grian squawked in offense. “Hey! I hit it, didn’t I? You should have said something sooner!” He put his hands on his hips. “And you need to be bait Scott, you’re the only one fast enough to outrun those things.” Scott rolled his eyes and grumpily plucked the griffin.

Cleo chimed in as she knelt to assist Scott. “I kinda agree with Scott, Grian.” A smirk played on her lips. “He is a better quick shot than you.” Grian made an offended noise. “But you are right, you are the only one who can outrun them, Scott.” Cleo pointed out.

Scott sighed, “I know but I’m tired of fighting to survive every day.” He gathers up the feathers and turns to his friends' worried expressions. He quickly amends. “I want to live, not just survive. For the last few years, it has been a struggle to stay warm during winter and find food. We were lucky to discover that the new stones made killing these things easy.” He gestures to the dead griffin. He slips on his hoodie and picks up his full pack. Then he began walking towards their home.

Cleo mimicked his actions, throwing on her pack filled with feathers and falling in step with him. “I know we aren’t living a glamorous life like you are used to, but we are alive.” The women comforted him. “After those berries that turned me green, we were glad to be alive. So, let’s be grateful for what we have.” She suggested.

Scott sighed defeated, “You’re right Cleo. Thank you.” He said with a smile.

“Hey! You guys left me!” Grian squawked as he ran up to them, carrying a bunch of fur. The duo looked over at their short friend and giggled a bit.

“Sorry, G. Didn’t mean to, it just got in my head.” Scott apologized as they headed towards their current base.

Together, they walked in relative silence. Occasionally, they will discuss what other preparations they need to get or set up before winter sets in. Taking care to avoid predators, they arrived at their setup at sunset. Even though it would have been an hour’s walk, Scott and Cleo were not taking any chances to be caught by surprise. Whenever they saw something out of place, they hid beneath roots, behind rocks, or under large leaves.

Their camp was built beneath the roots of one of the many large trees. The roots were tightly woven together making a great defense to keep out predators. There were gaps between the roots allowing entrance from all angles. This was perfect whenever they were chased down by something that could kill them. The gaps allowed sunlight to seep in during the days which was a bonus.

Scott slipped into the knitted roots, followed closely by Grian and Cleo. Inside, a fire pit was dug out in the center, and embers glowed faintly from an early morning fire. A cooking pot rested beside them; remains of breakfast were evident in the pot. Encircling the fire pit were their three sleeping bags and a miscellaneous survival bag. Preserved food, water bottles, and first aid supplies filled the bag in case of an emergency. A pile of twigs, the size of logs to them, were gathered in the corner of the heaven. Overall, a safe place to live. But life in an apocalyptical world is never that simple.

After he set his pack down, Scott walked over to the embers, stoking them with a stick, and blew on them to reignite the flames. Mimicking Scott, Cleo sets her bag down and grabs two branches. She brought them over to the fire pit as Scott got a small flame going. While the other two were working with the fire, Grian gathered the material they collected from the griffin and got to work on crafting gear to withstand the winter chill.

The blond started by using the fur he collected. He had enough fur to craft mittens and boots. He used fabled spider thread to stitch it together, and as treads, he used exotic mushroom bits that were comfortable and similar to rubber, so it was waterproof. Next, he moved to creating cloaks. He retrieved the feathers out of Cleo’s and Scott’s bag and laid them out into three groups. Each group is going to be turned into a cloak. He grabbed more spider strings and began stitching them together. Griffin feathers were perfect for cloaks because they were insulating and waterproof.

Once the fire was going, Scott grabbed some ingredients from their food rations and began cooking dinner. He decided to grab some dried boar meat, strange purple peas, green carrots, and light blue leaves that felt frosty to the touch. He grabbed a water bottle after a last-minute thought. He grabbed the pot and poured some of the water in, rubbing the remains of their breakfast into the water to clean it somewhat, and then poured it out. He set the, now clean, pot in the fire, then placed the rest of the water in the pot and tossed in the other ingredients.

While Scott cooked dinner and Grian made the winter gear, Cleo brought up some important topics while taking inventory of their weapons and sharpening them.

She was wiping off her sword with a leaf when she inquired, “We all agree we can’t stay here for the winter, correct?”

Scott hummed as he stirred the stew he was making. “Agreed. The ground will soon freeze here, leaving us vulnerable to hypothermia even with our sleeping bags and gear. It would be better if we could find a tree hole like last year.” Grian piped in.

“Nah, I nearly slipped off the icy bark multiple times.” Pulling his makeshift wooden needle through another stitch, he added, “Though I agree we need to leave. We’re gonna get snowed in here. Plus, there isn’t water for a good two hours from here. We can’t be making that trip constantly.”

Cleo nodded, now sharpening the clean sword. “So what direction are we heading? We can’t go North again. It’s much too dangerous with all the yeti that come from hibernation.” She remembered, causing a shiver to go down the two guys' spines. Both will never forget the near-death encounter with one of their first year.

Grian frowned as he looked up. “We can’t head west either.” The blue-haired male and redhead looked at the blond confused. He explains, “On the news, I remember them saying tar pits have appeared in that direction. I know it’s been ages, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

Scott nodded in agreement. “So southeast it is.” He stated the others agreed with him. “We’ll head out in the morning. We don’t have much time before winter.” He took the soup off the fire, filled three bowls, and passed them out.

They ate in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company. They were quite a rag-tag group of people. An architect, rockstar, and teacher. All very different, but all survivors. After dinner, Scott cleaned up and packed while Cleo prepared their weapons. Grian added the finishing touches to the cloaks. Then all of them settled into their sleeping bags to sleep.

The trio headed southeast early the next morning as the sun rose above the horizon. Scott shouldered his pack, the pot tied onto it as well. His new cloak was tightly wrapped around his shoulders, the morning chill nipping at the bare skin of his face. Grian trailed beside him, heaving along his pack and the emergency bag. His face was half hidden in the collar of his sweater, holding his cloak tightly to his chest to keep it closed. Cleo took charge, leading the way. On her person, she carried her pack along with extra weapons.

They traveled for nearly two days before they found something interesting. As they headed in their chosen direction, the large forestry began to thin out. What was even odder was that more hostile creatures seemed to thin out as well. Realizing this, the group exchanged glances before continuing onwards. With every step they took, everything began to paint a picture. A large imprint in the dirt, crushed bushes, and tree stumps without a tree present. Flattened bushes and grass seemed to become normal the farther south they when.

Scott was getting bad vibes from the area. He admitted his reluctance to continue going forward with the group. Both Grian and Cleo agreed, but Grian pointed out they didn’t have much of a choice. Winter was coming too fast, and they couldn’t backtrack. They were running low on water and food. Going back would only spell trouble for them. Scott agreed with Grian’s assessment of the issue, so they all continued, but with caution.

The feeling didn’t leave Scott if only increased as they traveled.

It was one of the coldest days of the year when the trio stumbled upon a large wooden wall. They all cautiously advanced towards the structure, not sure what to make of it. On closer inspection, the wall was made of large planks, identical to the wooden fence humans had in their backyards. There was a human-sized hole in one of the nearby planks.

Cleo turned to them, “I’m going in.” Grian quickly grabbed her arm.

“Like you are! We don’t even know what's behind there!” He viciously argued. “It blocked off for a reason.” Cleo spit back.

“But what choice do we have? We can’t go back! If only one of us goes in, the other two can escape.” While Cleo and Grian had a heated discussion, Scott snuck over to the hole.

Crouching down, Scott peeked into the crack, not prepared for what he saw. A house. A ginormous house stood looming over him. He stumbled back in awe and shock, falling onto his butt. Finally, Cleo and Grian took notice and rushed over to him.

“Scott! Are you okay!? What happened? What did you see?” Cleo fretted over him, double-checking him for injuries, as he was the youngest of the group. The red sweater-wearing mischief maker nodded in agreement.

“I-I-” Scott stuttered for a moment as he collected himself, “It was a house. A…a very large house…” Cleo raised an eyebrow with confusion.

“A house? What do you mean Scott? Explain.” She demanded him, picking him up from the floor. Grian stood back, giving the younger boy a stern look.

Swallowing hard, Scott tried to explain. “I think could be a giant den, but it looks just like a normal human house!” Scott grabbed both of his companions’ hands and dragged him over to the niche in the fence. “It’s easier to show than explain.”

They all crouched, the blue-haired boy doing it first, his friends mimicking him quickly. Grian gasped and laughed in disbelief. Cleo muttered a quiet, “No way…”

The house itself was more of a cottage. It was quite small, and the siding was wooden but had some technological advances. The roof was constructed out of stone and wood with a chimney coming out of it. The whole house was painted dark, almost black, purple, and grey, giving a sharp contrast to the bright pink and red of the garden that sat nestled in the space between the fence and the house.

A bright pink brick path cut through the garden, with red bricks outlining it. Garden beds were sectioned out, the path acting as a barrier. Many plants had blackened and withered; colored leaves scattered around their bases, branches barren. There were a few exemptions, a still-green pine-like bush, and a few stubborn flowers.

Standing up, Scott crawled through the gap, tossing his bag through first. Cleo and Grian grabbed him by the ankles. “What do you think you're doing!? Are you nuts!?” Cleo shrieked.

“You can’t possibly be thinking of us going in there, do you?” Grian added, a bit frantic.

Scott kicked away their hands and asked, “What choice do we have? We either go through here to continue our journey,” Scott looks back over his shoulder with a grin, “Or we are set for winter, living off the giants.” Cleo and Grian shared a nervous look before letting the younger boy go.

Scott finished climbing through a brushed himself off, glancing back to see Cleo making the trip next. Grian commented, “I hope you are sure about this Scott.” He quickly army crawled through once Cleo got out.

Scott nodded. “I am sure. We can check it out, if we think it's too dangerous, we can grab some food and water then leave.” He explained his logic.

Cleo slowly nodded, “I see. That makes sense. Giants need mountains of food to survive so it’s only inevitable for them to have food lying around.”

Grian added, “And gallons of water somewhere. Which we need desperately.”

Scott grinned, “Plus, think of how warm it will be?” He pulled his cloak tighter around his body. “The giants will have fires or something to keep their house warm, in turn, we will be warm.”

Cleo sighs, defeated. “Fine. We’ll check it out,” She stressed, “But! If there is any sign of danger, we are leaving.”

Both guys silently celebrated, then picked up their packs, heading into the looming shriveled-up dead plants of the flower bed. Cleo sighed and shook her head, following the two numbskulls to prevent them from causing any trouble.

=============================

Traveling through the garden was uneventful except for a close call with a sphinx. The trio hid underneath a few loose leaves and waited for it to pass before continuing onto the house. When they reached the side of the house, they quickly discovered a hole in the siding, leading underneath the house. From there, they managed to shimmy up a pipe, cross a support beam, and avoid live red stone wires using some skilled parkour and teamwork to get into the wall of the house.

Cleo and Scott gave one last tug, helping Grian up through the clean-cut hole where the wires lead into and spread throughout the house. The three of them glance around, pausing momentarily to get their bearings. Before they could leave, the vibration of giant footsteps shook the wall they inhabited. Cleo instinctually crouched down, seeming to be getting ready to spring into action at the drop of a hat. Grian froze like a deer in headlights, looking like he was about to leap back down the hole they just arrived through. Scott felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest, trying to leap out of his chest. He held his breath, stiff as a board till the footsteps faded away. The group collectively breathed a sigh of relief. They quickly gathered their stuff and scurried in the opposite direction of the footsteps.

After traversing the walls, they finally settled into a corridor that seemed to have a lesser giant presence. Grian heavily flopped onto the floor next to his pack, going limp against the board acting as the floor, grumbling, “I hope this was worth it. I’m exhausted and sore.”

Scott looked up at him from digging around in his pack and tried to reassure him. “It’ll get better from here on out. It was just a pain to get in here.” He pulled out his sleeping bag and laid it out on the floor. “We won’t have to move anymore so we can make a proper bed at some point. And once we get a layout of the house, we can find a better space to call home.”

Cleo viciously shushed them, whisper-shouting. “Keep your voice down you two, we don’t want to alert the giants to our position.” She warily eyed the walls around them, like a giant would burst through any second. Scott rolled his eyes but lowered his voice.

“Tomorrow we will explore deeper into the interior of the house, find a water source, and get more food rations. Those are our top priorities.” He pulled out the meager food rations they had left and passed them around to the two. Grian sat up from his sprawled-out position, accepting the food and plan without any comments.

Cleo took the food before hesitantly questioning, “What if one of us gets caught by a giant? Then what?”

The question honestly catches Scott off guard. He always knew it was a possibility in the back of his mind, but he never planned for it to happen to any of them. The blue-haired male pressed his lips together as he contemplated the answer. Logically, it would be best for the others to escape while they had the chance. But Scott knew deep down neither of them would abandon each other.

He sighs heavily, “Look Cleo, we both know the logical answer, but we also know that we won’t follow through with it.” He gives her a tired smile, feeling Grian observing the conversation silently. “It’s been a long day. Let’s sleep on it and we can discuss it in the morning.”

The redhead huffed but gave an equally tired smile. “Fine, okay yeah. We’ll figure this out when were aren’t dead on our feet and our brains are mush.” The rest of the night they spent in heavy silence.

The small red-sweater fiend fell asleep first, snuggled deep into his sleeping bag, snoring softly. Cleo was quick to follow, her arms tucked under her chin as she lay on her stomach, passed out cold, drool dripping down her chin. The only one still awake was Scott. He tossed and turned for hours, Cleo’s question echoing through his mind. With a frustrated sigh, he got up from his sleeping bag.

The ex-rockstar went to his pack, changing his shirt and slipping on his favorite jean jacket. Then he grabbed his bow and quiver, glancing over to the other two frequently in case they get woken up. As he was about to stand up, he decided to grab his knife as a precaution. He stood up, making a silent promise that he was just going to go on a quick walk and then be right back.

With a light bounce in his step, Scott set off down the corridor toward where most of the noise seemed to be coming from. Going on walks or runs always cleared his head if he had trouble sleeping. This would be no different.

The beginning of the corridor was normal, dark, empty, and chilly. He still was alert in case, but it didn’t seem like anything was there. As he went deeper, he noticed there was a soft glow emitting from farther down the hallway, as well as warmth coming from the source. He bit the inside of his cheek, debating if he should check it out or not. Knowing it was stupid, he continued onward.

As he approached the light, the wall warmed up, making Scott melt slightly. The heat felt good against his icy skin. Along with the heat, he could hear faint murmurs getting louder, causing him to slow his pace down and be more careful. The murmurs soon turned into voices, that turned into loud booming voices. Soon he recognized that he was heading toward where the inhabitants of the house were. The closer he got, the lighter his footsteps got. He turned the corner to where the heat and light were the brightest. He was relieved that the way was empty, but he did find a crack in the wall.

Now that he was close enough, he could understand what the giants were saying. Mindful not to make a sound, the blue-haired boy crept closer to the hole in the wall. He crouched down, kneeling beside the opening, preparing himself. He peered out and made an audible gasp at what he saw.

From his position, Scott could tell it was a living room area. A large yellow couch sat in the center of the room in front of the cobblestone fireplace, which had a nice large blazing fire in it, heating the surroundings. The walls were decorated with shelves of pants and paintings. On each end of the couch, lamps powered by red stone sat. A bookshelf filled with books was pressed into one corner of the room. But none of those things caught Scott’s attention.

It was the giants themselves. Two giants sat on the couch, chatting to one another. One seemed to be female and the other male.

The female sat facing towards the wall where Scott was hiding. She had reddish-orange braided hair, with mismatching-colored eyes. One a dark green, the other a bright red. A pair of deer ears and antlers sprung from her head as well. He was wearing a red T-shirt and black overalls. The man sitting beside her laughed at something she said, allowing Scott to see his face.

The guy had a yellow mark, like a scar around one of his reddish-brown eyes. In his brown hair, two yellow demon horns poked out as he moved his head. Glancing at him more, the small human notices a demon tail lazily swaying near the floor. Black spiked bracelets were on both his wrists, as well as a black sleeveless leather jacket resting on him, and a shirt with a yellow “i” underneath it.

Scrambling back, Scott couldn’t believe his eyes. His back hit the other wall harshly, but he couldn’t care less as he tried to get his breathing under control. Tears threatened his eyes as he closed his eyes, his heartbeat deafening in his ears. He grabbed his pants to ground himself. ‘No, no.’ He thinks to himself. ‘Those can’t be them. Gem and Impulse died the day the outbreak happened.’

Covering his mouth, Scott opened his eyes, trying to muffle his sobs, eyes locked to the grainy wooden broad. His body trembled as he remembered it. He wished he could have been there for his bandmates. Movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention. His eyes widened in terror as he noticed Gem look-alike moved slightly to the left…and was certainly looking directly at him.

The teal-haired human scrambled backward, away from the hole, away from the imposters. He clambered to his legs and booked it down the dark corridor. Hot fat tears dripped down his chin as ran, calling himself a coward for not protecting his old friends, practically family. The survivor bumped into several walls; his vision blurred from the water in his eyes. He hardly noticed the chill growing as he ran.

He finally slowed down when the tears slowed down, and his cheeks were icy from the cold in the air. Wiping his eyes and then closing them, he took a very deep breath, to calm his racing heart. Once his heart was beating normally, Scott opened his eyes and headed back to Cleo and Grian, convincing himself that he was just tired and imagining his friends.

When he reached the small camp they had, Scott put his bow gear away then his knife. After putting his gear away, he climbed into his sleeping bag. He glanced at his current friends. Both Grian and Cleo were knocked out cold. Grian was still snoring away, and Cleo had rolled onto her side. He watched his friends sleeping peacefully before relaxing, deciding that he should just focus on the present instead of the past.

With that, Scott got comfortable and drifted off into a deep sleep.

-----------------------------------------------

During a temporary intermission, Scott stepped out from backstage onto the street for a quick breather. Brushing his hand through his hair, stressing over the night’s events. Gem collapsed suddenly during their last song. Impulse had caught her before her head could hit the floor. They called an intermission even though Gem had woken up a few moments after she passed out, claiming she was fine.

Due to Impulse’s and Scott’s insistence, they got a venue nurse to check her out. Impulse noticed Scott was stressing out by pacing around, so he told the guitar player to go take a breather to calm down. Reluctantly, he listened to the drummer but had him promise to tell him what the doctor said. Said drummer grinned, nodded then shoved him out the door, telling him that everything would be alright.

So here he was now, standing outside a backstage door on the unusually warm September night. Sighing, he headed down the street, pulling up the hood of his blue zip-up hoodie to avoid attention. Drunk concertgoers stumbled out of the bar, laughing, and giggling around him as headed down the street. His original plan was to walk around the block and return backstage to check on Gem.

His walk was doing its job as he slowly started to calm down after turning the first corner. He started to think more rationally now that he was calmer and could face the diagnosis. Turning the corner to the street that would lead him back to the concert, he was met by a gaggle of girls, who recognized him. Resigning himself to his fate, he pulled out a pen and started signing autographs.

Once the girls were taken care of, he made his way back to the alleyway. As he was about to enter backstage, the guitar player was startled by the sounds cracking around him. He spotted cracks growing up the side of the monstrous building. He couldn’t get a clear view from where he stood, but a noticeable dent in the domed roof had started to bugle out. He backpedaled away, knowing he was in a dangerous position, Scott ran for the alley exit.

With a loud crash, debris came raining down from the once-pristine concert hall. The cyanette made it out of the alley just in time as the concert hall's walls collapsed. Dust and screams filled the surrounding area. He spun around, trying to see what was happening, shielding his eyes from the cloud of debris threatening to blind him.

Coughing harshly, Scott stumbled out of the dust cloud, using his shirt as a mask as he guided other blinded spectators. Once on a clear street, he glanced back towards the concert hall. A sudden terror stuck through him as he spotted something out of a fairy tale. A monstrous giant was standing in the middle of the venue where he and his friends were just playing minutes ago.

The back was facing Scott, a wave of messy hair trailed down the back and it had something growing from its head. He couldn’t get a good look at the giant before more chaos broke out. The survivors of the building collapse sprinted out of the rubble, covered in dust and dirt.

Realization struck Scott like a lightning bolt. Gem and Impulse. They were still in there. They could be trapped under the rubble. The first instinct he had was to run back to get Gem and Impulse. He started running towards the venue as people ran away from the giant. Before he had a chance to go farther, a female police officer snagged his shoulder dragging him away as he kicked and fought.

Just as Scott was getting desperate, another giant grew from the rubble. This one grew into a sitting position. Taking advantage of the rock star’s momentary shock, the officer dragged him farther away, pulling him toward the subway tunnels. From there, she ushered him towards a group large group of people who were all survivors of the incident.

She then explained that they would be evacuated when the next train came, this being the fastest and safest way to get them all out without issues. The guitar player tuned her out, staring at the stairs, hoping that any minute his friends would be carried or come walking down them. Many people whispered and murmured, clearly anxious about the situation.

Suddenly the whole station shook, and the fluorescent lights swayed from where they were hung. The officer quickly grabbed her radio, pressing it up to her mouth. The station shook again, some dust falling from the ceiling, making the crowd cry out in fear. The cyanette flinched as a thunderous thump came from above them. She informed the crowd that the giants were on the move.

She looked grim and panicked as she shouted over another footstep that the two were heading towards the station. The cries of the terrified people echoed off the walls of the subway station. Scott’s blood felt like ice in his veins as he felt the ground shake harder, all the oxygen was stuck out of his lungs as panic consumed him.

A cheer and the screeching of wheels knocked him out of the all-consuming panic that overcame him. The subway train pulled into the station, opening all its doors. The crowd quickly swarmed into the small tram. The officer tried to do crowd control, but everyone was in a panic. Scott kept looking over to the stairs, and then to the train. Biting the bullet and praying to Aeor, the teal-haired boy slipped up the stairwell, ignoring the call of the officer, leading to the ground level. The ground around him shook with the weight of the giant as it came closer.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he was met with a startling sight. Buildings were toppled and cars were wrecked. In front of him, the giants were walking together, taking off building tops, seeming looking for something. One of the giants spotted him, making him step backward. His foot slipped on a step, making him fall down the stairs partly.

He groaned, pain echoing through his body. Thunderous hurried footsteps pounded toward him, causing him to force himself up. A loud creaking sound caught Scott’s attention as he glanced up. A part of the office building above him broke off and hurled towards him. He covered his head with his arms and then blacked out. But before, he swore he heard Gem call out his name…

--------------------------

Scott jolted up in his sleeping bag with a gasp, looking around frantically before realizing where he was. He grabbed his chest, doing quiet breathing exercises before he relaxed fully. Once calmed down, he noted that Cleo and Grian were already up. They both were looking at him with concern from where they stood.

Cleo was the first to speak, “Scott bud, you good?” Her voice echoed the worry in her body language. All he could do was nod as he stood up stiffly. He moved around robotically. She paused in stuffing her pack.

Grian huffed, “Scott, we all know you are not okay. So what’s wrong?” Scott scowled, hating that Grian could see through him. He packed in silence for a few more minutes while his friends patiently waited for him to respond.

He finally sighed, “It was just a memory.” he said softly. “The day the apocalypse started; my bandmates were in the concert hall when it started.” He viewed Cleo’s and Grian's reactions. Cleo looked sympathetic told him and murmured, “Oh Scott…”

Grian had a similar expression. The ex-rockstar simply shook his head. “It’s in the past, no need for sympathy. We all lost someone so it's water under the bridge.” He hefted the pack onto his shoulder. Grian and Cleo shared a concerned look before looking back at him.

Cleo spoke up, “We are here if you ever need to talk Scott, death isn’t something that can be taken lightly.” She walked over and gently patted his shoulder. “We got your back bud.”

Grian came up onto his other side and nodded. “Yeah, if you wanna talk, we're here to listen.” Scott scoffed at them but smiled slightly at their comfort.

“Thank guys, I appreciate it.” He gives each of them a quick hug before stepping back. “Now let's get going, we need to find water and food.” He turns around before they can respond, heading down the path from the night before.

The others quickly caught up to him. The three of them chatted quietly as they walked through the wooden corridors. The farther they traveled, the quieter they became till they were silent. The sound of creatures moving became clearer as they headed towards the giant's living quarters. As Scott examined the walls around them, he realized that they were closing in on where he was spotted last night.

A pit of dread grew in the cyanette’s stomach as the hole from last night seemed bigger last night. Grian slowly approached and grimaced as he stepped in something sticky. He pulled his foot out easily, making Scott breathe a sigh of relief. The dirty blond walked across the sticky spot without trouble. Cloe followed next, then Scott. He glanced out of the hole but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

Traveling deeper into the house, they soon smelled something delicious. They all perked up as they knew they were getting closer to the kitchen. Grian blushed as his stomach rumbled loudly, making Scott and Cleo silently chuckle. With a pep in their step, they sped up, knowing they were close to their goal.

The voices of the giants became clear and loud, letting them know they were in the right place. The trio slowed their pace. Grian looked nervous and anxious. Cleo looked determined, pressing her lips into a thin line. Scott’s blood rushed through his ears, but he felt an odd calm flood his system. He pressed his ear against the wall, curious what the giants were talking about.

“Are you even sure this is gonna work?” A feminine voice asked, skepticism in her voice. A masculine voice replied, “Of course! I made it, didn’t I?” A smug voice answered. “You say that now.” The female voice countered as she seemingly left the room as her voice got farther away.

Scott felt the tension leave his shoulders as the male voice gets farther away as well. He turns to his found family and whispers, “They left, we’re in the clear.” Cloe nodded but said, “Still we need to find a way in and out quickly because we don’t know how long.” Scott nodded in agreement. Grian frowned a bit but nodded as well.

They explored more of the wall, getting increasingly nervous when they thought they found a loose board, but it was glued over or something was blocking the entrance. It was later in the day when they finally found a perfectly round hole in the wall, looking like it was drilled. Cleo was hesitant to use it, but when Scott’s and Grian’s stomachs groaned, along with her own, she relented.

Grian peeked out first, not seeing anything unusual, he ushered for Cleo and Scott. When Scott stepped out, the breath was knocked out of him. The kitchen around them was so large but beautiful. Flowers were painted along the cabinets; pink trim gave life to the bland wooden counters. A black and white checker floor covered the area below them. But what caught his attention was the paintings hung on the walls. They were landscape paintings, of a beach, a meadow, and a forest. He shook his head, to stop getting distracted.

Looking over, Cleo and Grian seemed to be in awe as well, except they were looking at something else. The guitar player’s jaw dropped as they spotted what they were staring at. On the counter, a large cake sat. Drool pooled in Scott’s mouth as it was decorated with berries and white and pink frosting. Swallowing, Scott also noticed a fruit bowl next to the cake.

Grian took a step towards the cake before Cleo grabbed his shoulder. She whispered to him furiously, “We can’t. It’ll be too noticeable.” Grian whispered back, “Come on, one berry.” He begged. Cleo brazenly shook her head. “No. Too dangerous.” Scott couldn’t help but agree with Cloe’s sentiment.

“The fruit bowl could be good.” He points it out. Cleo looked over to Scott and nodded. “Yeah, that seems more reasonable.” Grian crossed his arms but reluctantly agreed. Scott headed towards the fruit bowl, having to walk around the edge of the cake. Cleo and Grian followed behind him.

They all froze as a quiet click was heard. Scott glanced around trying to find the sort of noise. It was only when he looked down, he realized he had stepped on a mechanical button. He felt the blood drain from his face as he hopped off in a panic, turning to his friends.

“Run! It’s a-“He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as his feet are suddenly pulled out from under him, making him yelp. Two more cries follow as well. He felt himself get pulled unwillingly to a metal circle, his friends joining him shortly after. He looked down at his shoes, his eyes widening in panic. They were coated in metal flakes, making them magnetized.

Realization hit Scott, the sticky stuff. It was glue. And they walked through it. And it was filled with these metal flakes. Cloe was trying to pull herself off the magnet, while Grian struggled violently. Scott began trying to get his shoes off to escape but giant footsteps made his blood go cold.

Scott’s breathing picked up as the Impulse-looking one entered the kitchen and cheered loudly, making all the humans flinch harshly. “Gem! I caught him! And two others.” Scott covered his ears with the loud voice, tears threatening to escape his eyes. It’s not them. It can’t be.

His breathing picked up as the giant came closer to them. His struggles got more desperate to get his shoes off. A scream rang through his ears, and it took him a moment to realize that it came from him as Impulse-look alike reached for him. The horned giant seemed taken aback by his sudden cry, pausing in his advances. His friends were shouting and yelling at the giant to leave him alone.

The Gem-look-alike came into the room. She walked over and frowned then scolded the horned giant. “You idiot, you’re scaring him. Don’t just try to grab him.” She crouched down and in a very soft voice, “Hey there Scott, can you count to five for me?” The ex-guitarist couldn’t help but close his eyes and picture Gem holding his hand, rubbing circles on his back as he calmed down from a panic attack. He quietly counted to five, taking deep breaths as he did.

Opening his eyes again, he was considerably calmer, but his heart rate spiked as he saw the giant smiling down at him. “There you go. It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you.” She reassured them. Cleo spit. “Yeah right! And how do you know Scott? Let him alone!” Cloe struggled hard.

Scott croaked, “You can’t be them. They died the day of the outbreak.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he lay on his back, trapped. Both his friends and giants looked at him. The deer giant frowned, “Oh Scott, no. I am Gem and that still is Impulse. We just look a little different and bigger.” Gem tried soothing Scott by touching him.

He flinched away from the large hand, sobbing, “Let us go then, please.” He begged, adrenaline and fear blocking out the hunger and thirst he felt. “Please Gem.” Both Gem and Impulse shared an uneasy look before Gem sadly shook her head.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t in good conscious.” She said softly, making Scott’s throat close with terror. “You three look like you are about to drop dead in a day. You are all so skinny and it’s scary.” She explained, as Impulse carried in a fish tank-looking thing but built for a human.

Scott didn’t have it in him to shout or yell as she gently pried him off the magnet and placed him into the tank. She did this with Grian and Cleo as well. Grian shrieked and tried to bite her as she picked him up. Cleo glared but didn’t do much, not wanting to cause them to get angry.

Gem looked at them sadly. “This will be only temporary.” She comforted. “We just need to humanify the house and get you guys healthy.” Scott glared at her through tear-filled eyes, through gritted teeth he mutters, “I hate you. I hate both of you. You are not them.” Shock then hurt filled Gem’s eye but she replied, “You know you don’t, you just need to get used to us like this.”

Impulse looked hurt as well as he added, “I’m sorry for scaring you all. But it’s true, this is only temporary. I hope you’ll trust us soon as well.” He carried the enclosure over to a table and placed it down gently. The walking made the humans flinch harshly. Impulse apologized softly then turned away. Impulse and Gem left the room after that, saying that they were giving them space to adjust.

Scott bushed his hand through the plush carpet bottom of the tank, glaring at it like it had wronged him. He immediately took off his shoes and chucked them at the glass around them with a frustrated cry. He watched them bounce off the glass onto the floor. He wiped his eyes and examined their temporary home.

There was a little kitchen area in one corner, it had a fridge, sink, and oven. Another was a walled-off room with a door labeled ‘bathroom’. The room the three of them seemed to be in was a living room of some sort, it had a couch, coffee table, and loveseat. Looking over to the last side of the tank, it was also walled off but with two doors. Both were labeled ‘Bedrooms’ in fancy bold letters.

Grian shrieked, “How did they know that we were here!? We were so careful.” He threw up his arms in frustration as he flopped onto the loveseat. Scott’s stomach churned with guilt because he caused this. Cloe scowled at him. “Get off there, we are not entertaining them with thinking we’re comfortable.” Grian huffed, “What’s the point? We might as well take advantage of this situation.”

Scott walked to the miniature kitchen and looked through the cupboards, to get away from the arguing of the other two and through curiosity. He was pleasantly surprised to find that they were filled with grains and dried fruit. He looked in another and found plates, cups, and silverware. He took three cups hesitantly and walked over to the faucet, filling them will water.

Once all three cups were filled, he walked back to the other two, who had stopped arguing when he turned on the water. He handed each of them a cup and said, “Here, we need it. I don’t care if it’s dosed or poisoned, we will die of dehydration if we don’t.” Grian eagerly down his cup, while Cleo cautiously sniffed it before sipping it. Scott slowly drained his cup. The water felt nice on his dry throat.

Cleo finished her cup and sighed. “That helped clear my head.” She looked at Grian. “I’m sorry, I suppose you’re right. We can rest up and regain our energy for a while then we can escape in due time.” She walked to the kitchen, placed her cup in the sink, and grabbed dried fruit for each of them, passing them to Scott and Grian.

Scott nodded and whispered, “I’m sorry, it’s my fault we’re in this mess.” He took a small bite of his fruit. Grian shook his head, swallowing as he did. “Don’t blame yourself, it was bound to happen eventually. We’re just lucky it was your old friends.” Grian happily munched on his dried fruit. Cloe gently hugged him.

“Don’t blame yourself kiddo, we all agreed to go into the house,” Cleo reassured. “So don’t blame this completely on yourself.” Scott sighed and replied, “Okay…” He still felt guilty for not telling them he was seen last night but decided to change the conversation.

Scott walked to one of the rooms and looked back at them. “I’m gonna take a nap. I’m exhausted. Wake me up if they come back.” He said before opening the door and closing the door behind him. The bedroom was simple, a bed and a wardrobe were the only two thing decorating the room.

The cyan-haired boy climbed into the bed and curled up in the sheets. Tears pooled in his eyes as he buried his face into the pillows, hiccupping softly as he thought of how Gem and Impulse could do this to him. Sobs escaped him as he dragged Cleo and Grian into this mess as well. It was all his fault. He soon cried himself to exhaustion, his unconscious consuming him. His last thoughts before he fell unconscious were “I’m sorry everyone.”

#dangthatsalongname #scott smajor #smajor1995 #smajor #alternate universe #mcyt #geminitay #zombiecleo #life series #secret life #session 7 #giant/tiny #giants #fanfic #long post #long reads

22 notes · View notes

dingbatnix · 11 months

Text

Venture

Chapter 5

Yessss let's gooooo!!!!! Chapter five is a go!

So here, everything starts rolling, and I've got the beginnings of some plot! Yeee!

And thank you @da3dm for proofreading!! <3 u

Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 1

Chapter 6

Dream + Tommy reference

Word count: 6,271

Warnings: Mmmm, blood, gore, injuries, fear of death, cussing, fear of injury, death, ehhhh I think that covers it : D

They traveled through the forest for three days, a few uneventful mob attacks happening here and there. Dream chattered, not quite incessantly, about almost every little thing. The birds, the leaves, what types of plants were good to eat, the possible uses of other foliage, everything. Once Tommy had gotten him started, there was no shutting him up, it seemed. Tommy dimly noticed Dream avoided telling anything about himself, though he was willing to part with all sorts of information on other people.

Dream asked nearly thirty times a day if Tommy wanted out of the cage. The answer was always the same. No. Tommy always refused, flashes of the human’s huge hands clamping harshly down over his body plaguing his mind. No. Dream had smallfolk sized stuff. Tommy—Tommy didn't know where–how he managed to get it, and he maybe didn't want to know, but, one thing was for sure–he couldn’t trust Dream. Not when it was plainly clear to see that the human had held smallfolk captive before, and doubly clear what the man was when it was especially obvious that said smallfolk were no longer here.

Tommy wasn’t stupid. Dream was a trafficker of 'exotic beings,' not unlike the men who had caught him before. But, it was glaringly obvious that Dream was far more experienced than his previous captors. Why he wanted Tommy out of the cage, though, why he was asking if Tommy wanted out of the cage was something Tommy couldn’t fathom.

Maybe it was some sort of manipulation tactic, to try and get Tommy to trust him and not try to escape. He’d read about something like that once, in the library of the human’s house he had lived in. It was something about the functions of the mind, and how it responded to things outside of it. Unfortunately, Tommy had stopped reading it after the first page, because it had been so fucking boring. He was regretting that a little now.

Whether it was some kind of manipulation or not, Dream was being unreasonably nice to him, and Tommy didn’t know why. It left him feeling conflicted, especially after a conversation with the seemingly easy-going human. On the one hand, Dream was a human, and more importantly, he was a human holding Tommy captive. On the other hand, Dream made Tommy laugh harder than anyone else he’d ever met. He gave Tommy more food than he could ever hope to eat on his own, and he freely gave information on most of the things Tommy asked about. Dream talking about himself, apparently, was a no-go. No matter how many times Tommy had tried to direct a conversation towards the man’s life, Dream always somehow distracted the teen with something else.

Dream had set up camp for the night, and had a fresh slab of pork spitted over the merrily crackling fire. The smell was lovely, and Tommy was actually letting himself appreciate it. Dream hadn’t neglected feeding him, not even once, so Tommy was confident that he would get a small portion of food from the human.

Relatively small, anyway. Most of what Dream had given him was nearly as big as Tommy's entire arm, if not bigger. He'd even wheedled Dream into giving him a large scrap of cloth so that he could tie together all of the leftovers and not lose them. It was very considerate of the human.

Tommy tried his best not to get swept up in any conversations with Dream, feeling like it would be best if he stayed as distant as he possibly could. The human was so charismatic (even though he was a total bitch,) that in nearly every conversation the teen had with him, he found himself growing more and more attached.

It wasn’t a good thing, not at all. It would only hurt Tommy more when Dream did whatever he was going to do to him.

On top of everything, Tommy was mostly afraid of the future. He was dreading the day they arrived at wherever Dream was headed to, because that was the day that Tommy would get sold, or killed, or worse. He’d heard horror stories of what the bigfolk would do to inchlings if they got caught. The nightmares after his family explained to him what big people liked to do to smallfolk had been awful, and had persisted for weeks. The night terrors after his family was taken had been worse.

Tommy tried not to dwell much on what would happen to him if he was ever caught, but now, with the reality of it looming ever closer, it was nearly all he could think about. The fear and dread had built up over the past few days, horrible ideas and theories spiraling through his head, until it all became too much that night, and it all burst out.

"Alright, fuck this!" Tommy spat suddenly. Dream glanced over to the teen, startled. "What are you gonna do with me?!" He sprang to his feet, angrily jabbing a finger in the human’s direction and propping his other fist on his hip.

“What?” Dream cocked his head curiously, peering down through the bars of the cage he was settled beside. The dancing of the firelight flickered over Tommy’s small frame, bathing him in shifting shadows. “What am I going to…do? With you?” He shifted, stretching his legs out in front of the fire and leaning against the tree.

“Yes,” Tommy yelled, angrily pacing the length of the cage. “You’re taking me somewhere, obviously, because you haven't let me go. You've obviously dealt with my kind before, cause you’re not loud or grabby, and cause you’re not shocked at all, and all of the things you have that are my size are meant for my people, were made by my people,” he paused, heaving in a shaking breath. “You have too much for just a passing find, you had to have caught tons of us before and since they're not here you had to have sold them or killed them or given them to a witch–” He grabbed at his hair, breathing heavily. “And I don't know what you're gonna do to me and I can't stop thinking about it so just tell me, please, so I can at least know what's gonna happen to me!” Tommy’s chest shuddered with each hitching heave of air as he stared pleadingly up at Dream. His eyes glistened with unshed tears which were rapidly blinked away, and his tiny hands were trembling from his outburst.

Dream winced, pushing himself up straighter. He turned more fully to the miniature teenager, considering. He hadn’t really explained what he was going to do with the teen, had he? He’d kinda just forgotten. And now, because of his negligence, Tommy seemed to be having a mental breakdown over things that wouldn’t transpire.

Dream sighed, reaching down to tap at the bars of the cage. Tommy flinched, scrawny limbs tensing noticeably. “I’m not going to do anything with you, Tommy.” The teen scowled, opening his mouth. Dream held up a finger much larger than he was, cutting him off. “I am heading to Manberg here pretty soon though, so I figured that would be as good a place as any to drop you off at.”

Tommy’s words died in his throat. Manberg! That’s where he was taken from! Maybe he could find Tubbo, or contact Phil, or something! Maybe he’d be able to escape!

But then, the words really sank in. ‘Drop him off.’ The words reminded him of the way someone would talk about a package. Dream was probably taking him to be someone’s exotic pet. Tommy’s temper flared back up, and he snarled.

"Drop me off!? So you’re not even gonna sell me!? You’re just gonna give me to some clueless fuckwad as some sort of pet!?" Tommy balled his fists at his sides, gaze livid.

Dream splayed his hands disarmingly at the teen’s outburst. “I’m not going to–”

“The fuck you aren’t! I know there’s a market for borrowers!” A snarl adorned Tommy’s face, and he was pressed right up against the mesh of the cage, hands trembling around the wires. “Why the fuck do you think I was kidnapped the first time?! I’m not fucking stupid, Dream!”

The smell of burning pork filled the air as they tore into each other, the air thick with a palpable, violent tension. The night critters that had surrounded the camp had long gone silent, the majority of the forest spectating the hot-tempered scene with a detached sort of interest.

"What?! No, you-!" The human's jawline twisted into a scowl as he leaned closer, looming over Tommy.

"You fucking lying bastard, I know your type, don't you try to trick me-" The teen snapped back face red in a combination of fury and indignation. Why the fuck would Dream try to deny it? Tommy knew the truth. He knew what Dream was going to do to him.

"Oh–you dumb fucking child—" Huge fists balled up from the human's sides, fingerless leather gloves literally creaking under the intense pressure.

Dream shot up abruptly, enormous boots absolutely demolishing the forest debris next to the cage. Tommy stumbled backwards until his bony shoulders hit the iron bars with a clang as the towering, light-blocking frame of Dream stood threateningly over him.

Tommy’s heart started to pound as the human just stood there, hands twitching, the gaze of the smiling mask boring into his soul. Suddenly, Dream whirled around and stomped away through the underbrush.

What the hell? Why the hell would he just leave? Tommy was left gaping in a confused fury, anger left to steep as apprehension bubbled up. Why the fuck would Dream just run off like that? Surely Tommy hadn’t said anything too terribly offensive? He didn’t fucking know. He didn’t particularly care, either.

Part of Tommy was cheering victoriously. Ha! Stupid bitch boy human can't deal with the great Tommyinnit! He had just won in a verbal battle with Dream! He’d made the human leave, all through the force of his words. He was quick witted, yeah, but he’d never talked a human into running away!

But the most overpowering part of his brain was terrified. He'd just pissed Dream off. What if he stopped feeding him? What if he stopped being nice? What if Tommy had screwed all of this up?!

…He needed to go. He couldn’t stick around when Dream could come back, at any moment, pissed to all extremes. He didn’t know what the human would do to him, but every single thing his mind conjured up was terrifying. He’d never made someone mad without painful repercussions occurring soon after, and he doubted this time would be any different. Dream would hurt him this time, plain and simple, and Tommy needed to be gone before the human could come back and do so.

His first thought was trying to pick the lock of the cage. He’d nearly gotten it, a few days ago before Dream caught him, and now he had the opportunity to try again, but…no matter how he twisted and turned and angled his body, he just couldn’t reach the inside of the lock. Even with a stick he'd grabbed that was near his cage, he couldn’t angle it right. The stick had snapped off inside of the keyhole, trapping him permanently. He’d checked the corners and seams of the wires, and had even tried to squeeze through the gridded bars, but, like the last thirty attempts, he couldn’t find a way out. He was trapped, waiting until his inevitable punishment came in the form of one whole overly-large human, one that he had foolishly pissed off.

Tommy was very, very terrified. Dream was nice, and soon, that illusion would come crashing down on his head, and he didn’t think he was ready for that. Not at all.

°°°°°°°

Tommy was getting antsy. Dream had been gone for what, four hours now?

And, even though he was relatively safe in the cage, (it wasn't like an animal could bust through it) the dark forest around him was creepy. He could hear things rustling around and the lonely, echoing calls of animals during their nightly hunting. He'd even heard the choked, gurgling rasp of a zombie once or twice. It made him feel edgy.

The night air was cool. Tommy shivered and wrapped his quilt more securely around his shoulders. The fire was still crackling merrily, but its heat didn’t quite reach Tommy’s cage. The pork that Dream had been cooking was a charred husk that smelled awful, but just the thought of it made Tommy’s stomach growl.

Absently, he reached over to his stash of leftovers and broke off a piece of (stale, by now, but Tommy didn't really care) bread to munch on. It wasn't as good as meat cooked straight from the fire, but it would do its job.

He ran his fingers over one of the patterns embroidered on his quilt (some kind of brown-and-white spotted animal with four legs and horns on its head. Tommy didn't know what it was, but he really liked it.) He worried the soft stitches between his fingers, staring at the colorful patterns.

His mind was still circling on the possibilities of what would happen when Dream came back, but the sheer terror had dulled somewhat. It was boring, incredibly so, waiting for anticipated pain that hadn’t come yet. There was some lingering anxiety about what would happen after Dream punished him, about how things would be different, but he tried not to think about that. He’d take one thing at a time, and right now, he was just trying to focus on the details of his quilt. It was…soothing, in more ways than one, no matter how Dream had obtained the thing.

There was a sudden, distinct crunch of leaves behind him, and Tommy’s heart spiked. Oh shit. He was back. He whirled around, quilt clutched to his chest, to see a shadowed figure loom into sight. He squinted at it in slight confusion. He couldn’t see too well in the dark, his night vision had been spoiled by the fire, but something felt…off.

“...Dream…?" His voice was weak and wobbly, even to his own ears, and he cringed. The figure moved, then, without answering, and Tommy realized something awful. The approaching form wasn’t Dream. They were too thin, too short, and suddenly, all Tommy wanted was for Dream to come back. Dream was better than an unknown human.

Dream would probably keep Tommy alive.

The stranger spoke, voice low and smooth and delighted, and Tommy realized that he was completely and utterly fucked.

“I thought I’d never get the chance to grab you." The human drawled, reaching down and plucking Tommy’s cage into the air. The teen lost his balance and nearly fell at the sudden movement, dropping his quilt in shock and stumbling back until his shoulders hit cold metal. He felt his heel strike against something that clattered away and fell outside of the bars of the cage, but Tommy didn't have the presence of mind to care about it, not right now.

The only thing between him and this new human was the thin wire bars and the small, delicate lock on the cage door. Tommy pressed himself against the back of the cage, glaring distrustfully at the almost overwhelmingly large face. The human grinned, bright and triumphant, before reaching for the cage door. He poked curiously at the lock before frowning and deciding to just yank the door open.

The thin metal bars were snapped open with ease, the small hinges not made to withstand the strength of an entire human. Tommy tried to scramble back, away, as far as he could from the encroaching hand, but it was no use.

The fingers pinched painfully around his left shin, grinding the bones together so hard they almost cracked. He was dragged screeching out of the cage despite his desperate hands clinging to anything they could grab and dangled upside-down in front of the human’s face.

“I’ve been looking for one of you for a loooong while,” the man grinned, reaching up with his other hand to tug at Tommy’s hair. Warm breath washed over him as he tried and failed to push away the massive, hurtful fingertips. The fingers rose away from his hair and instead moved to poke his stomach, shoving Tommy back and sending him swaying through the air.

He swung dizzily, the blurred ground far, far below him twisting in and out of focus as more foul breath wafted past him, making him gag.

“Get some breath mints, bitch!” Tommy spat, desperately holding back the queasy roiling of his stomach. His leg pinged painfully, calling forth another wave of nausea.

The human scowled, baring his teeth in an ugly snarl, and Tommy realized that he maybe should not have said that. The man plucked the teen’s right arm in a tight pinch and easily twisted it away from his body.

“Shut it,” the human snarled, holding Tommy's arm stretched below his head. “Unless I say otherwise, you don’t speak.” He tugged slightly at the teen’s arm, making him wince.

Tommy’s temper flared up in spite of the warning. “No! Fuck you, you twat! Put me the fuck down—!”

The man’s glower deepened, and suddenly, he pulled the two limbs in his grasp in opposite directions.

Tommy screamed. Pain lanced up and down the whole of his torso, and then some. He could feel it as both his shoulder and hip were slowly pulled from their sockets. His spine and ribs were gradually being drawn apart, and it hurt.

And then, suddenly it didn’t.

A nasty, meaty craak-krunch! sounded off below him as the fingers slipped from his arm. Something hot and viscous splattered all over Tommy’s aching body, and the human holding him wheezed out a wet, gurgling groan.

Tommy blinked open eyes he didn’t even remember closing and immediately caught sight of the gorey sword-tip that appeared to have sprouted from the man’s chest. He yanked his gaze away, nauseated at the sight of all of the gooey little bits of blood and meat and bone shard glistening wetly in the light of the dying fire.

The fingers crushing his leg suddenly slackened, and Tommy screamed hoarsely when he immediately started to plummet down towards the very much solid ground.

“Oh, shit-” Dream shoved the dying man to the side and dove forward, arms outstretched. He very nearly missed, only just managing to clap his hands around the small teen before tripping and thudding harshly down onto his chest. He wheezed, half in pain, half in embarrassment, because whoops, that was an oversight on his part. Tommy was still belting out ear-piercing shouts and curses and wriggling violently between Dream’s gloved palms.

With another wheeze, Dream pushed himself up with his elbows and settled down onto his knees, bringing his hands up in front of his face. He unfolded them, gently curling his fingers to cup the gore-splattered teen in front of his eyes. He squinted behind his mask, trying to see if Tommy had any injuries with just the dim light of the moon filtering through the trees and the faint light of the campfire.

Tommy scrambled back, as far as he could, until his shoulders were crammed against Dream's curled fingers. Dream could feel the miniscule heart pounding frantically against his fingerpads while the teen’s thin chest heaved, drawing in great, heavy half-breaths.

Dream bit his lip, thinking, before dropping his hands and gently dumping the teen onto the ground maybe a foot from his knees. Tommy tumbled onto the dirt and laid there for barely a second before he shot up and tried to run.

As soon as Tommy tried to put weight on his left leg, he crumpled, a high-pitched yowl of pain escaping his lips. He didn’t manage to get his hands up in front of him in time and ended up skidding facefirst back onto the ground.

Dream winced. “Shit, Tommy, don’t move, okay?” He reached out for the small teen, gently brushing a finger over his thin shoulder blades. Tommy shrieked and flipped himself over, scrambling backwards on his elbows and one good leg. Dream jerked his hands back immediately, splaying them out in an attempt to reassure the boy.

“Hey, hey, hey, Tommy, it’s just me, it’s just me, Dream, okay?” He tried, voice gentle. Moving slowly, he scooted backwards, away from the shaking teen, until he was far enough to lay himself down on his front. He rested his hands on either side of his head, in clear view, and rested his chin on the ground in front of the teenager. From this new perspective, Dream got a closer look at the teen, the closest since he had first found him.

Tommy’s face was scraped up and bleeding, and there were tiny bits of dust and gravel clinging in his hair. A tiny plaster adorned his jawline, and his shirt looked worn, with many patches stitched in a haphazard pattern at nearly every seam. His beige shorts were heavily patched around his knees, and his shoes looked old and like they were about to fall apart. The most concerning of all, though, was how thin he looked. Dream could swear that he could count the boy’s ribs from behind his shirt, and his joints were so knobbly that they looked like legitimate twigs.

Blood was splattered up and down Tommy’s front, and Dream couldn’t help but feel a little guilty over the fact that it was his fault, technically. It was also kind of his fault that Tommy had gotten grabbed in the first place, because he had left the teen unattended, but he wasn’t going to think about that right now. Dwelling on guilt and regret had never gotten him anywhere before, and it wasn’t going to help him now, not when he was trying to calm down a miniature teenager that had just nearly been kidnapped (again) and had just witnessed Dream brutally murder someone.

The teen’s face screwed up in confusion as he watched Dream settle down onto his stomach just shy of two dozen inches away, his chest heaving in an alarmingly staccato rhythm, but the tension in his shoulders did ease up the tiniest bit. Dream had learned, years and years ago, that if he reduced himself in height and wasn’t towering so high over an inchling that was panicking, he would scare them less. It didn’t work all the time, of course, but it usually got the job done.

“Tommy, Tommy, hey, can you try and relax?” Dream asked, voice pushed down to the softest whisper he could manage. His voice could only go so low, though, and Tommy flinched back. Dream frowned, but tried again. “You’re okay, Tommy, you’re safe. That guy is gone, Tommy, he’s not gonna come back, And I won’t hurt you, alright?” The teenager didn’t look like he quite believed Dream, but his breathing had evened out. Dream counted that as a win, and pushed on.

“Can I take a look at you? So I can make sure you’re not hurt?” It took Tommy a long, long moment to reply, but when he did, his answer was a short, jerky nod of his head. Dream thought he heard the slightest whisper of an “okay,” but he couldn’t be sure. It was too breathy, too quiet. It might’ve been the trees.

“Alright,” Dream breathed, glad the teen was responding. That was a good sign, one that told him Tommy wasn’t too far gone into his panic.

"Here, hold on," Dream murmured, reaching back and sticking a hand into one of his many pockets. He dug around for just a moment before pulling out some flint, steel and an unlit torch.

"Let me get some light here, okay?" Tommy didn't say anything as Dream lit the torch with a bright flare of sparks. The teen winced at the sudden light that burst forth, blinking his eyes rapidly to clear the dots that suddenly danced in his vision.

Dream stretched his arm out to the side and planted the end of the torch in the dirt with a firm hand, the action a bit awkward due to the odd position he was laying in, then turned back to Tommy.

In this light, Dream could see the teen much better, but that just made everything look so much worse. The assassin held back a pitying grimace as he scanned over Tommy’s battered, bloody form. The boy’s cradled right arm was a mottled yellowish green, and from what little Dream could see of his legs, they were scraped and bruised as well, the left leg in particular a nasty shade of violet.

The human winced sympathetically. “Can I see your leg? It looks…bad.”

Tommy sent him a scathing glare and shifted to stick his leg out. “Nn–no ff-fucking shit it looks bad, dumbass.” The miniature teen spat vehemently, voice weak and shaking. Dream was glad he decided to speak, though. He had learned, over the past few days, that silence was as natural for Tommy as it was for creepers to fly.

The teen stretched out his leg with a wince, gasping when he caught sight of the huge, deep purple-black bruises spanning the length of his shin and calf. Already his skin was starting to swell, and even the simple movement of moving his knee had his entire leg aching. Against his will, his eyes stung and watered. He scowled, and scrubbed at them with his wrist.

Dream leaned closer, whistling lowly. "That's a hell of a bruise, kid."

“Y-you fucking think?!” Tommy half hissed, half growled. His face was pinched, and his fingers were twitching from where they were hovering around his shin. “I think–I think it’s fucking broken.” The words were a mix of fury, of pain, of fear, and Dream couldn’t help but pity the teen. A broken leg was practically a death sentence for any inchling, let alone one on his own.

“Gimme just a second…” Dream trailed off, turning to dig around in his satchel. He knew he had it somewhere, he had just gotten one a few days ago, where’d… “Aha!” Triumphantly, he pulled out a glittering bottle about halfway full of a vibrant red liquid. He shook it gently, inspecting it as it sloshed against the glass walls. This was one of the potions he had pilfered from the five hunters that had Tommy, so he wasn’t entirely sure how effective it would be. It was the only health potion Dream currently had on him, though, so it would have to do.

He slowly propped himself up on his elbows, wary of spooking the teen, and popped open the cork on the bottle. Tommy was watching him, blue eyes absolutely drowning in suspicion, so Dream explained what he was doing.

“This is just a health potion, alright? It’s gonna fix your injuries, okay?” Dream gave the teen a small smile, even though it couldn’t be seen from behind his mask. “You’ll be as good as new in no time.”

Tommy gaped up at Dream, eyes widening in consternation. Dream was going to use a fucking health potion? On Tommy? Why the hell would he waste such a valuable item on him?

The cool magic of the potion splattered against his skin and absorbed into his bruises almost immediately as Dream poured it over his body, chasing out the spiking ache and leaving behind a cool numbness that Tommy appreciated very, very much. He sighed, the tension in his shoulders loosening as the pain rushing jaggedly through his leg washed away.

He'd only ever had a healing potion used on him once, and that had been when he'd broken his leg so badly that the bone had come out. The feeling was familiar, and Tommy found that he enjoyed the warm prickling that ran through his skin.

The remainder of the potion was whisked away into Dream's pockets, leaving Tommy to stare wistfully after it. If only he had a bottle on him. He could definitely use an emergency health potion.

"Here," Dream reached forward and gently curled his fingers around the teen. Tommy cursed with a violent flinch, shoulders hitting the ground from how far he went backwards. The assassin paused at the teen’s reaction, and thought better of just grabbing him. Instead, he pulled his hand back a couple inches and laid it flat on the ground.

“C’mon,” Dream murmured, voice gentle. He tapped his knuckles against the dirt, indicating towards his hand. “Climb on. I’ve…we need to move the camp, alright?” He sent a meaningful glance towards the bleeding corpse sprawled next to the dim, dying fire and turned his gaze back down to Tommy.

The teen nodded reluctantly, unwilling to come into contact with Dream, much less climb into his hand, but much, much more adverse to spending any more time near a dead body. It would start stinking pretty soon, and Tommy absolutely did not want to be around for that. Dream was the lesser of the two evils, as much as that fact made Tommy's skin crawl.

He pushed himself up on still slightly numb legs and forced himself to walk the few inches over to Dream's splayed palm. There, he balked, body freezing of its own volition.

Dream's hand was massive, the flat of his palm coming up to just a little below Tommy's waist. Each finger was as thick as Tommy himself was wide, and they were all much, much taller than he was, excluding the thumb, which was only a few centimeters or so higher than Tommy stood.

Tommy clenched his hands into fists, breathing deeply, and forced his legs to move. One step after the other, he climbed onto Dream's hand.

The leather of the glove wasn't very pliant, but Tommy still almost lost his balance. He threw his arms out, wobbling as he regained his footing. He crouched down as soon as he was in the center of the wide palm, balanced over a crease in the leather glove. He wasn't going to outright sit in Dream's hand, but god forbid he stay standing and inevitably fall over.

Tommy breathed deeply, scrunching his eyes closed. Rarely did being in a human's hold ever lead to a good thing. Tommy had so much experience to back the fact up, and despite his desperate desire not to, all he could see were the bad things that could happen to him.

He saw himself being thrown, he saw himself being dropped, god, he could see himself being crushed between fingers stronger than any sort of struggle he could muster—

Tommy sucked in several breaths of air, more than a little frantically, and forced himself to calm down. Dream wouldn't hurt him so drastically, wouldn't kill him in such a violent manner. Tommy was too valuable whole and alive, and he was sure that Dream knew that, too.

"Ready?" Dream asked, and Tommy was surprised. Nobody'd ever asked him if he were prepared for a rapid ascent through the air via human hand, and Tommy expected it least of all from Dream. Not even the good humans Tommy knew had ever asked.

He sucked in more air and jerked a curt nod, pressing his hands against the leather surface of the glove to stabilize himself. He hated being carried by humans. It always made him nauseous.

"I'm gonna put you in my pocket for now, okay?" The hand started to raise as the words registered, and Tommy’s heart leaped with an enormous desire to just not.

Tommy's eyes snapped open, and he cut Dream off with a vicious shake of his head. “Fuck no! Don’t you dare, don’t you dare.” He hissed, face twisting into a hot glare as he jabbed a finger up at the human's gleaming white mask.

"It'd be safer for you, though…" Dream offered, pausing the hand's ascent. Tommy scowled, mouth forming a snarl, and spat, "I'm claustrophobic, you ass! You wanna give me a goddamn heart attack!?"

Dream faltered. "...ah. Oh. Okay, okay, alright. I'll just…" He cleared his throat. "Shoulder it is, then." And then Tommy was moving again, up towards Dream's neck.

He was deposited gently onto Dream’s shoulder, underneath the human's hood. The shoulder he stood on was cast in shadow, and despite all of Tommy's reservations, it was…cozy. He could probably even jump down the back, into the pocket the base of the hood made, if he really wanted.

His hands latched onto the black fabric of Dream's raised shirt collar, and his face twisted. Dream was wearing a turtleneck, but his shoulders were bare. What kind of weird outfit was the human wearing?

As Dream kicked out the mostly-dead fire and gathered the few things that had been set out, Tommy’s gaze wandered to the corpse of the human that had attacked him. The corpse was laying on its side, facing away from Tommy, thankfully, but he could see the red, gooey crater in the human’s back, where Dream had stabbed him though.

The image brought a sick twist of nausea to his stomach, and Tommy was suddenly afraid for himself, of what Dream might be willing to do to him. He needed…he needed to convince the human that he didn’t need to punish Tommy. That he’d already…that he’d learned the lesson, or something. Tommy sucked in a steadying breath, fingers tightening in the thick fibers of Dream's shirt.

“I’m…I’m sorry for yelling at you.” Tommy blurted, shoulders hitching up and eyes scrunching shut. His breath shuddered as he exhaled, half convinced that the human would turn violent after being reminded of what had happened.

“Please don’t…don’t…” He trailed off, unable to find the words to beg Dream not to punish him for his (completely justified) anger.

“Tommy.” Dream’s voice was firm, and the tone made the teen flinch. Was he angry…?

Dream continued, unaware of Tommy’s whirling thoughts. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Not now, not ever, and especially not over something as stupid as an argument, alright?” Tommy seemed doubtful about that, but didn’t comment.

“Why’d you leave…?” The teen murmured, hesitant. The only reason Dream even heard him was because the teen was right next to his ear.

“I got mad. I…I needed to go blow off some steam, before I did something stupid." The human admitted, voice low and…seemingly regretful. Tommy was perturbed by the remorse in Dream's tone. Why…why did he sound upset? Was he still angry at Tommy?

Dream sighed, a genuinely tired sound, and then, to Tommy's complete and utter shock, apologized.

"Sorry for leaving you for so long," Tommy saw the human's jawline tense in what seemed to be a grimace. Tommy's eyes widened. What the hell?

Dream's voice came out a little grouchier, a little more strained. "I didn't realize we were being followed, so that's…that's my bad."

Tommy's eyes got wider, if that were at all possible, and his jaw slackened. A human was apologizing!? To him!? What the actual hell was going on!?

If Tommy didn't know any better, he'd say he was having a fever dream.

Even still, he murmured a quick, confused acceptance of the man's apology and fell silent, contemplating as Dream started moving near-silently through the dark, whispering forest.

The human was so goddamn strange. At nearly every turn, he said or did something that contradicted everything Tommy knew about bigfolk, and the more time Tommy spent with the man, the more confused he became. Dream just didn't make any sense, whatsoever.

Eventually, they found a spot that would make a suitable camp for the remainder of the night. Dream didn't build a fire, instead pulling out some rabbit jerky for them to split for dinner.

Silently, Tommy mourned his stash of bread and meat. He understood why Dream hadn't grabbed it, it hadn't been a priority, but…Tommy felt wrong without some store of food. At least he could start over with the (still too large) chunk of rabbit jerky.

Dream had at least retrieved Tommy’s quilt, but made him sleep inside of his pack maybe a foot away from the man's own sleeping space. Tommy really wasn't complaining, though. If he tried sleeping out in the open like Dream did, any number of night critters could come crawling along to snatch him up for a midnight snack.

And God forbid if he actually tried to sleep with Dream. The human was a light sleeper, and he didn't move much, but even the slight chance that he could be crushed made Tommy cringe. Never mind the fact that he'd have to be in close proximity to the human for the whole night.

He’d tried searching for an exit, once he’d waited long enough for Dream to have fallen asleep, but no matter where he looked, no matter how thoroughly he scoured the walls and seams of the bag, Tommy couldn’t find a viable way out. Not even the top flap was an option, as it was sealed much too tightly for the teen to squeeze through. He was stuck in here, just as much as he had been in the cage.

At least in the bag he was shielded from the wind, but the thought was little comfort when compared to the fact that he was still trapped, and still traveling to his uncertain future.

It was slightly easier to sleep at night, though, when he was in a decently warm shelter.

Taglist: @brick-a-doodle-do @i-am-beckyu @da3dm @kayla-crazy-stuffs @local-squishmallow @skullsnbruises @munchkin1156 @jakersdaboss

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #writing #g/t writing #bat's writing #venture #g/t primeboys #primeboys g/t #giant!dream #tiny!tommy #fuck my predilection towards italics #i have to manually go through them all and redo them cause tumblr resets the text t_t

42 notes · View notes