#I would have drawn a fireplace but i like campfires more

[cofrishii]

Shh, he's diapausing

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | six (preview)

Well, this wasn’t exactly what you’d been expecting when Mark had asked you to come camping.

Instead of a campground or maybe just a clearing in the middle of the woods, you’d pulled up in the passenger’s seat of Mark’s car to find an impressive, two story log cabin. Not exactly roughing it.

“I thought we were camping?” you asked, fingers frozen on your seatbelt.

Mark looked over at you, slipping his sunglasses up to the top of his head. “We are. I mean, I guess it isn’t traditional camping…”

That wasn’t to say you were disappointed that you wouldn’t be sleeping in a tent in the woods, considering you had a severe fear of bugs and bears and everything that scurried around at night, but something about it made you nervous.

“Is this okay?” Mark asked, as if he sensed your hesitation.

Cabins were romantic. Your mind was already daydreaming about cozying up under a blanket by the fireplace with Mark, and you hadn’t even seen the inside. This certainly wouldn’t make your life any easier.

“Yeah. Yes, sorry,” you told him, shaking the traitorous thoughts from your head.

After your near-kiss experience last week, you were once again desperately trying to remain friendly with Mark. Strictly friendly. Even though it had really, truly felt like he’d wanted to kiss you. Maybe you were a little more socially awkward than the average, but there was no way you were misreading his signals.

But it was driving you insane, waiting for him to finally cross that line whenever you were alone - if he ever did.

It wasn’t that he was avoiding you, because you were still spending most of your free time together. Whether that was a long walk with Milo or a several hours long Netflix binge, you were seeing more of Mark than ever.

But he kept his distance, and you were reaching your limit.

Behind you, two more cars followed, pulling up to take the spots on either side of Mark’s car. Jackson grinned at you from the driver’s seat of his sleek, shiny black Audi. It made you feel better that he was here; Mark had made it sound like only couples would be in attendance, but today he’d informed you that Jackson had decided to come along at the last minute. Maybe it would relieve some of the tension.

Yugyeom, his girlfriend Soyeon, Dahyun, and Chaeyoung were in the other car, easy to spot by the R&B bumping from the stereo. It wasn’t even noon yet, but this group was obviously hyped for the weekend ahead.

Mark looked over at you, raising his brows.

“Ready?”

With a deep breath, you nodded, somehow feeling like you were about to walk right into the lion’s den.

===

Once everybody rolled their luggage into the cabin, along with eight bags of groceries and three cases of beer, Dahyun suggested an afternoon swim to kick things off while the boys worked on building the campfire. Yugyeom and Mark followed her orders without question, but Jackson lagged behind.

“But I don’t know how to build a fire. Can’t I join you guys?” he asked, removing his sunglasses to wiggle his eyebrows. “I promise I’ll just be another one of the girls.”

“Aht! It is way too early in this trip for you to be creeping,” Chaeyoung told him, flicking his forehead as she passed by him. “Now go outside and maybe you can learn a thing or two from the real men.”

“That’s sexist,” Jackson replied, hand on his heart like he’d been mortally wounded. Chaeyoung had already waved him off, heading up to the second floor with her suitcase that was at least three times the size of yours.

You bit back a smile as you watched Jackson sulk, following Mark and Yugyeom out to the back yard. Why couldn’t you have feelings for him instead? It would make your life a hell of a lot less complicated. He wasn’t much younger than Mark, but he also wasn’t your brother’s former best friend. Or your roommate.

Jackson was the type of guy you would have gone crazy for in high school. You’d always been a sucker for those outgoing, charming, class clown types. Maybe it was because you’d been so quiet and reserved, you were drawn to somebody who could pull you out of your shell.

But now there was a sour taste in your mouth and you found it nearly impossible to trust the guys who could always say the right things and look at you like you were the prettiest thing they had ever seen. You’d fallen for it once, and vowed not to do it again.

You followed Dahyun and Soyeon upstairs with your duffel bag in tow, your eyes taking in the beautiful high ceilings and rustic interior of the cabin. God, this place was like something out of a Hallmark Christmas movie. Except it was the middle of August and there were no twinkling lights to be seen.

The other girls picked out their rooms easily while you lagged behind, biting your lip as you looked, in vain, for a room with two beds. You gulped when you realized there was only a room with one double bed, and another with a queen sized bed. Neither were ideal for your current situation.

“Oh damn, looks like you’ll have to share a bed. Question is, will it be with Jackson or Mark?”

You jumped at the voice behind you, turning to find Dahyun peeking over your shoulder. She was giving you a knowing smile, almost like she’d planned the entire situation - which was crazy and obviously not true. At the very least, she was clearly amused.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, heading through the doorway of the room with the queen bed.

Dahyun laughed, almost evilly, as she leaned against the doorjamb. “I’m kidding. I mean, I don’t think you’d get any complaints from either of them, but…”

Her words didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted Mark, but this back and forth was starting to wear you down. If he didn’t make some kind of move this weekend, you would have no choice but to give up. If you had to share a bed while he refused to come closer than two feet from you, you might just scream.

“I don’t know, Mark might be too much of a gentleman. He’ll probably insist on sleeping on the couch,” you confided, a twinge of disappointment in your voice that would be hard to miss.

You tossed your bag onto the bed before turning to sit on the mattress, the older girl looking down at you with a frown.

“He is a gentleman, but…”

The way Dahyun trailed off had you looking up, feeling hopeful despite yourself.

“But?”

“But,” she said, glancing behind herself to make sure there were no eavesdroppers nearby. “Between you and me, he absolutely wants to share this bed with you. This bed, the couch, any other flat surfaces you might happen upon…”

Immediately, your cheeks felt warm, simply from the hypothetical scenarios your mind was already running wild with. God, you sounded like a horny teenager, desperate for your crush to touch you.

“Are you sure? I feel like I have no idea what he’s thinking, ever. One second we’re sharing a pint of ice cream and playing Battleground and the next, he can’t get far enough away from me.” You couldn’t help but to sigh, your shoulders deflating. “It’s driving me up the wall, Dahyun.”

“First of all,” she said, “no one ever knows what Mark is thinking. He’s gone several eight hour shifts at the shop without saying a word to anyone besides his clients. Second of all, if you ask me, he likes you. That’s glaringly obvious. But he cares about you, and doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s kind of his thing, ya know? Doing the right thing.”

You curled your lip and crossed your arms over your chest. “I don’t care about doing the right thing.”

Dahyun laughed, but you were dead serious. You’d spent your entire life trying to do the right thing and tip toe around authority, never upsetting anyone. It hadn’t ever gotten you anything besides good grades and a social life drier than the Sahara desert.

“Alright, so you wanna shake him up a little?” Dahyun asked, raising an eyebrow diabolically.

You nodded. “More than anything.”

“Then throw on a skimpy bikini and come outside. I’ve got an idea, and you might hate me for it at first, but you just have to trust me.”

Narrowing your eyes, you spared a glance towards your suitcase. While you had packed the only bikini you owned, you weren’t sure it qualified as skimpy. But it would have to do.

“Do I want to know?” you asked. Dahyun knew Mark maybe even better than you did, so you trusted her, but the mischievous grin on her face had you a bit nervous.

“No,” she answered bluntly. “But it will be worth it. It’s go time, meet us downstairs in five!”

With that, Dahyun waved and exited the bedroom, shutting the door on her way out.

At this point, you were desperate enough to agree to whatever might get Mark to actually do something. If that meant prancing around with your tits on display, then you were willing to give it a try.

full chapter 6 coming soon!

[restlessfandoming]

“fever dreams” (chilumi sickfic)

this is in response to a [request] by @tiny-daisy where Lumine gets sick and Childe and co. have to take care of her! 

reverse [campfire in the snow] fic :p (SICKFIC!!!)

i wanted to write this as taking place after [family holiday] so pls read that first! ;_;

thanks for all the lovely responses <3

[Fic Masterlist]

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

“fever dreams” (family holiday pt. 3)

When Lumine woke up, her entire body ached. Why…? She sat up in bed, her head suddenly reeling. Placing a hand on her forehead to steady herself, she felt it burn under her touch. Sweat plastered her hair onto her face. 

Oh no…

Sickness wasn’t something Lumine experienced often. Being otherworldly entities and travelling excessively, she and Aether rarely came down with illnesses. 

I think I’ve been in Teyvat way too long. She and Aether had never stayed on a world for this long. I guess my body finally caught up to me...

She looked around the room for something, anything, to alleviate the pressure building in her head. The curtains were drawn, only letting in a sliver of daylight. She was in Childe’s room; she had taken to crawling into bed with him at night for warmth, and falling asleep in his welcome arms. The Harbinger was currently nowhere to be seen. 

She tried crawling out of bed, but the moment she stood, the room spun, and she found herself collapsed on the floor with a loud THUD. There was a pattering of footsteps coming towards her. 

Anthon opened the door. “I heard something fall—” He looked down to see Lumine, and his eyes widened. “Teucer! Tonia! Go get big brother, NOW!” he shouted down the hallway through the open door. He rushed to Lumine’s side. “What’s wrong?!”

Lumine let out a haggard breath. “I-I think I’m sick,” she croaked. Teucer and Tonia crowded into the room. 

“Lumine!” they cried. All three children huddled around the sick traveler, attempting to help pick her up. Anthon shooed them away, and they dashed out of the room shouting for Childe. 

“You guys shouldn’t get so close,” she said. “I don’t want you guys to get sick too.” 

“But you need help!” 

If they get sick...their time together will be ruined… “It-it’s okay. I can take care of myself…”

They heard another wave of rumbling footsteps and Childe appeared in the doorway, obviously winded. “What-what’s going on?” His eyes fell on Lumine’s slumped figure on the floor and immediately rushed to her side, nearly knocking Anthon over. “Lumine, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice rushed with worry—the most worry Lumine had ever heard from him. 

“She’s sick!” Anthon answered. 

“Sick?!” Tonia and Teucer exclaimed from the doorway. 

“I thought she was invisible!” Teucer said.

“Invincible,” both Tonia and Anthon corrected.  

Childe slipped off one of his gloves, placing his hand gently on her forehead. His fingers were ice cold compared to her burning head, and Lumine also let out a heavy sigh of relief. “You’re definitely sick,” he murmured. He picked her up off the ground—bridal style—and carried her back to bed. 

As he was adjusting the pillows and blankets around her, Tonia scooted close. “Are you going to be okay, Lumine?” Her large blue eyes were full of worry. 

Lumine looked at the children, all their eyes glistening. I’m upsetting all of the children… She gave them all a weak smile. “I’ll be okay…” She raised her arm like she was showing off her muscles. “Just watch, I’ll be up and ready to run around in no time!” 

Childe crossed his arms. “Absolutely not. You are not leaving this room until you are fully recovered.” His expression was dark; it almost scared her. “Anthon, go help your brother and sister make some tea for Lumine.” Anthon nodded, and herded Tonia and Teucer out of the room. 

Lumine let out a sigh, deflating fully now that the children were gone. “I’m sorry for ruining your time with your family…,” she whispered. “Spend time with them. I can get over this on my own.”

His jaw relaxed and he sighed as well. “I’m not going to leave you when you need help.” He sat on the edge of the bed, and brushed some of the hair away from her face. “Try to relax; we’ll take care of you.” 

“No—”

He held up a hand to stop her. “‘No’ is not an answer. I can’t have you dying before our next duel, now can I?” 

She playfully scoffed. “I bet I could still bet you, even like this.”

“I wouldn’t fight you like this,” he said. He brought his face close to hers. “I’m not a fan of unfair fights.” 

Lumine put her hands on his chest, attempting to push him away. “Stay away. You’re going to get sick too.” 

He easily took her hands into his own. “I promise, I won’t.” He pressed his lips to her fingers. “So let me take care of you.” 

It was hard to let outsiders into her life. The only person she could be vulnerable around was Aether, and now, he was gone. 

But here was Childe, slowly making his way into her heart. 

Would it be so bad to let him in?

She looked into his eyes: eyes that were soft, focused only on her. Lumine let herself relax into the pillows, and Childe smiled. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, before kissing her forehead. 

“I should be the one thanking you,” she muttered. 

“Ahem.” Anthon cleared his throat. His cheeks were red (From watching us, no doubt, Lumine thought) and he was holding a steaming cup. Tonia soon joined him with a large bowl, and Teucer held a handful of towels. 

“I brought ice water!” Tonia announced. 

“And I have towels for your head, Lumine!” Teucer said. 

“You guys did that all by yourselves?” Childe asked. 

“Of course!” Tonia answered, going to the bedside table and putting down the bowl. “We remember all the times you’ve taken care of us when we were sick, brother!”

Anthon set down his cup as well. “Here is some herbal tea. It might be bitter. But brother said the more bitter, the more healthy.”

Teucer hopped over, jumping onto the bed between Childe and Lumine, and proudly showing the towels to her. “You just put these in the water, and then on your head, and your head will feel good!” 

Lumine chuckled. “Okay, thank you, Anthon, Tonia, Teucer.” 

“Why are you sick, Lumine?” Teucer asked. 

Tonia raised her hand. “I think I know! It was probably because we were playing outside too long yesterday!” 

Anthon nodded. “And probably because we had that massive snowball fight…”

“Yes, of course,” Chlide agreed. “And poor Lumine isn’t accustomed to our Snezhnayan weather yet.”

Teucer laid down, hugging Lumine through the blanket. “I hope you get better soon,” he said sadly. “Then we can play more!” 

She patted his head hazily. “Of course.” Her eyelids were fluttering, getting heavier with sleep. 

“Okay, everyone. Time to leave Lumine so she can rest. That means no bothering her throughout the day, okay?” Childe said sternly. 

Teucer slid off the bed, rejoining Anthon and Tonia. The three children let out a resounding ‘Aww,’ then left. 

Childe dipped a towel into the ice water, wringing it out, then placing it on Lumine’s forehead. She sighed feeling its cool touch. 

“Sleep,” he told her. “I’ll be right here.” 

She nodded, already closing her eyes, and quickly drifting into a slumber. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Flying. 

Lumine was flying again, no glider necessary. 

She laughed joyfully. She had missed this feeling: this feeling of freedom and endless possibilities. 

Ahead, she saw Aether. She couldn’t believe it. She called out for her brother. 

It had been too long! She would finally be reunited with him!

He turned. 

And Lumine screamed. 

His face wasn’t there. Instead it was a dark mass—the Unknown God’s magic. The mass grew, overtaking Aether’s body. 

“NO!” she screamed, trying to fly as fast as she could to get to him. “I won’t let you disappear! Not again!” 

She was almost there. Her hand was outstretched, her fingertips almost brushing him. 

The dark mass completely took over Aether’s body. Then, it all disappeared in a blink. 

Tears flooded her eyes. “No…”

Lumine started falling, her wings gone. 

“AETHER!”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Lumine sat straight up in bed, breathing heavily. Her heart pounded, loud and fast enough that her ears drummed as well. Her hands went to her eyes, where she wiped away the tears pooling in them. 

“Bad dream?” 

Childe was sitting in an armchair opposite the bed. Lumine could see that it was dark out now, with the crack in the curtain. The fireplace next to him was lit, casting a dim, fiery glow across the room. 

Lumine caught her breath. “I—.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes.”

He regarded her curiously, an underlying...darkness in his eyes again. He stood up, and went to take the towel off of her forehead before checking her temperature. “I think your fever is gone.”

“Good,” she said, relieved. “I do feel a lot better.” Minus that fever dream…

He nodded silently. He paused for a second. Then—

“Who’s Aether?”

Lumine froze. Damn it. She must’ve called out for him in her sleep. 

She hadn’t told Childe about the real reason she was in Teyvat; nothing about her brother had been said, nor anything about who she really was. There was no telling how people would react, especially someone as unpredictable as the Eleventh Harbinger. 

“Aether,” Childe said again, in her silence. “You yelled their name.”

Lumine looked at the fireplace. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She saw Childe’s jaw flex. “You know, as someone who works for the Fatui, I have an easy time telling when someone lies.” His eyes flickered to her, and she felt her blood go ice cold. “But I guess you still don’t trust me.” 

“No, that’s not—”

“It’s okay, I understand, really I do,” he said. His expression became something sadder—softer. “I just thought...I just...Nevermind.” He turned, walking towards the door. “Get some rest.” 

No! Lumine wanted to trust him. 

She was just...afraid. 

But what was more frightening was the fact that she was, yet again, losing someone close to her. 

She stood up quickly out of bed, trying to stop him from leaving. “Childe—” 

Her vision came crashing in on itself, and she started to fall, dizzy, and still sick. 

In a heartbeat, Childe was back at her side, catching her before she collapsed. “Careful! You’re—”

Lumine wrapped her arms tightly around him. “He’s my brother,” she whispered. The tears came back into her eyes, trailing down onto Childe’s shoulder. “Aether is my brother. Someone took him.” Her voice cracked. “I need to get him back.” 

There was a brief moment where Childe was completely still under Lumine’s embrace. Then, he hugged her back, just as tightly—if not even tighter. 

“You didn’t have to tell me,” he said quietly. “But...thank you for trusting me.” 

She pulled back from the hug, and gave him a look of gratitude. He gave her a small smile, and wiped away her tears. “We’ll find your brother. Together.”

Together...I like the sound of that…

Lumine leaned forward and kissed Childe; he joyfully kissed her back. 

After a while, he pulled back. “As much as I enjoy this, you should be in bed, resting.” 

Lumine pouted slightly. “Fine.” She started to get up on her own, but Chlide quickly swept her into a bridal carry once again. He put her gently back on the bed, helping her fix the pillows and blankets. He turned back to the armchair. 

“Wait,” Lumine said, her face filling with heat. Not sickness. Embarrassment. “Can you—Will you—ah—”

Childe raised a brow, the corner of his mouth smirking. “Stay with you?” 

Lumine only nodded once, hoping to curb her embarrassment. The previous nights, when she had crawled into his bed, were all silent exchanges—no questions or comments, just silent understanding. Now to actively ask him? So embarrassing…

Thankfully, he laughed lightly, then slid under the blankets on the other side of the bed, pulling Lumine close, and kissing her forehead. “Your face is hot; is it another fever?” he teased. 

“Shut up,” Lumine grumbled, but snuggled in closer to him. 

She eventually fell asleep again. 

And this time, there weren’t any nightmares.

[werewolfdays]

Touch prompt 1 and 24 ???🥺🥺👉👈

here, have some Christmas time fluff!!! 

1. With love:

I was in the middle of brushing my teeth when I felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around my torso. Nadya leaned heavily into me, resting her head on the back of my shoulder, and I knew without asking that she was still mostly asleep. I was kind of surprised she was awake at all right now. Even planned to let her sleep in for as long as she liked today. 

I chuckled and spit out some toothpaste into the bathroom sink, “Didn’t think I would see you up and around for at least another few hours.” 

“It’s Christmas.” She mumbled drowsily, “I always get up early for Christmas.” 

“That’s good to know.” I mused and continued to brush my teeth while Nadya used my body to keep herself upright. 

Her hands worked their way under my sweater and the heat of my skin made her melt into me further. If she wasn’t careful, Nadya would become a puddle against me, but she kept herself busy with tracing some of the scars across my abdomen. Each gentle touch laced with her silent love. She hummed calmly, pressing her forehead to the back of my neck. I had to admit that her presence was drawing me in even more after each passing heartbeat. It was getting increasingly harder to remember what I was doing. 

“You’re so warm.” She murmured, swaying gently with me.

“So are you.” I said after I finished up and put my toothbrush aside. 

I carefully twisted myself around in her arms so I could face her. Nadya’s perfect brown eyes met mine and I wanted nothing more than to drown in them. She continued to lean against me, her hands wandering up and down my back and sides in lazy caresses. Unable to hold back from touching her too, I reached up to brush some of her messy hair behind her ear and rest my palm against her cheek. I saw, as well as felt, her face flush and she tilted her head into my touch while she looked at me adoringly.   

“Not as warm as you.” 

“There’s more than one way to be warm, my love.” 

We both leaned in at the same time, our lips meeting each other halfway. There wasn’t anything particularly deep about the way we were kissing right now, in fact, our cadence was more reserved than anything else, but the depth of passion I could always feel from her took me off guard every time. Our strokes were as soft as she was, as warm as our skin on skin contact underneath my sweater. Even if I was able to kiss her like this forever, it wouldn’t be enough. Nadya’s arms wrapping around me tighter made me think she felt the same way. 

When we inevitably broke away from each other, I rested my lips on the spot between her eyebrows, holding her to me for just a few moments longer. I felt her breathless sigh against my neck and wondered how I ever went without loving her as much as I do. 

No part of me wanted to, but I pulled away, “You want to go have some coffee by the fire in the Den?”

She nodded, her arms slowly disentangling from me, but not fully breaking contact yet. “Can I have this?” She asked while tugging at the bottom of my sweater. 

I gave her an amused eye roll and nodded with a crooked grin, “Go on, take it.” 

Nadya happily pulled the cozy sweater over my head and put it on with a grin that I never would have been able to refuse. After a grateful peck, she switched places with me at the sink and I went to retrieve something new to wear from the closet. 

The Lodge itself was at its most barren during the holidays as the least desperate wolves tried to be with their own packs, but there were still some permanent residents lingering around the cozy corners of the Den with what little companionship they had. Fresh blankets of snow outside, with frost clinging to the edges of the tall windows, and a big Christmas tree standing next to the fireplace gave the common space that special festive feeling. Nadya lit up when she saw it, which made me smile. 

Skye perked up from her spot on one of the couches when we approached, “Ugh, finally!” 

I watched her jump to her feet and practically skip over to the Christmas tree while Nadya and I got comfortable on our usual couch. Toby brought us fresh cups of coffee and Skye handed out gifts like an excited kid. A huge part of me was glad to see that she still had the same amount of excitement for the holiday as she did when we were little. 

Skye was immediately drawn to the fancy origami paper Nadya got for her and it didn’t take her long to start going wild with it on the coffee table. Soon it was like a mini paper zoo had taken over the table. All sorts of intricately folded animals surrounding her busy hands.

Nadya, on the other hand, was already several pages deep into a novel Toby had gifted her, one that they had talked about a couple weeks earlier. She was lying comfortably against me on the couch, her back resting on my chest, sitting in between my legs. I tried to track the words over her shoulder, but she read too fast for me. Still, I enjoyed her closeness more than anything, though I did eye the campfire cookbook she got for me. Ideas were already brewing in my brain for our next camping trip. 

Toby went straight for the bar when he saw he had some new fancy equipment to work with when making drinks. It was kind of funny to see him handing out cocktails to anyone that would take them this early in the morning. He only took a break to serve us some tamales his family made and delivered to him as a Christmas gift. Another year had gone by and I still couldn’t get the family recipe from his mother, though I refused to give up trying my own spin on the dish with Toby’s help. 

This was starting to be one of the best Christmases I’ve ever had. Definitely the best one I’ve had since before my parents died. I honestly didn’t think I would ever be able to achieve the kind of peace the holiday used to give me again, but having the love of my life happily in my arms, and my pack content, was more than I could have dreamed of. 

My eyes did keep traveling to the last little gift hidden under the tree, wondering if Nadya would eventually notice it. It was small and thin enough to be missed by Skye and her enthusiasm for presents, so I knew that Nadya, being as engrossed in her book as she was, probably wouldn’t realize it was there any time soon. 

I pressed a kiss to the side of her head to get her attention, “What’s that?” I asked into her hair while pointing to where the tiny present was waiting. 

Nadya followed the line of my finger until she finally saw it. Then she glanced back at me over her shoulder, “Is that for me?” 

“Mhm.” I confirmed. 

She hesitated, chewing on her lip as she eyed the gift. I was wondering what she was contemplating when she spoke to my sister, who was the closest to the tree, “Skye?”

“What?” Skye asked, slowly looking up from her work. She turned to where Nadya was pointing and we both realized that Nadya was just too comfortable to get up for her present. I smirked when Skye’s shoulders slumped as she returned her exasperated gaze to my girlfriend, “Seriously?”

“Please?” 

I fixed my little sister with a swift glare when her eyes met mine, urging her to do as Nadya requested. She sighed and stood up to retrieve what Nadya wanted before happily returning to her origami. 

Nadya thanked her and examined the skinny box in her hands that was wrapped in festive paper with a neatly tied bow. I must have wrapped the damn thing half a dozen times to get it to look right. After she took a moment to admire the work I put into it, she carefully unwrapped the gift. Once the sleek box was free of the paper, she flipped it open to reveal the necklace inside.

A small gasp left her lips as she held the chain up to get a better look at the pendant. The casted seal stamp glimmered in the firelight as it lightly swung in the air back and forth. The design had a small wolf standing atop a mountain and howling at the moon, and a small banner curved at the top, showcasing a Latin phrase in letters barely big enough to read. 

The pendant came to rest in her palm and I cradled her hand in mine, brushing my thumb over the words, “‘I Struggle and Emerge.’” I translated quietly, letting my thumb explore the rest of her palm, “This is a symbol of strength.” 

“It’s beautiful.” Nadya marveled. 

“I told you I would get you a necklace that wouldn’t burn me.” 

“You did.” She said with amusement while thumbing the pendant like I had. Then she placed it in my hand, “Will you put it on me?”

I smiled and accepted the pendant, using my other hand to brush her hair out of the way. My arms came around her and then I brought the separated clasps together at the back of her neck, hooking them and letting my hands come to rest on her shoulders. Nadya looked down at the necklace resting on her chest and took a moment to hold it like it was her most prized possession. My heart sang even more when she looked back at me again in gratitude. 

“Thank you, Jay.” She told me softly. 

I let the back of my finger brush her cheek, knowing that there’s no way a single touch or a single gift could ever convey how much I loved her, but I hoped she could sense it anyway, “Merry Christmas, Nadya.” 

“Merry Christmas.” She replied, resting back against me once more when I pressed a kiss to her temple.

24. To say hello:

My boots crunched into the fresh snow as it flurried all around me before coming to rest on the ground, culminating in mounds of pure white powder. All of the pines in sight looked like they had been dusted with sugar and my breath came out in visible puffs before me. There was something so magical about a forest during the winter time, something that even the biting cold couldn’t make me hate. 

I paused too many times to count to take dozens of photographs with all of the new film I received yesterday for Christmas. This was such a peaceful and perfect day. All I missed was Jayde, but she had to go back to her patrol duties today, no matter how hard I tried to convince her to take another day off with me. I would see her later though and that was enough for me. Plus, I wouldn’t bore her by dragging her around to take all of these pictures. 

A particularly cold breeze made me shiver. I adjusted the beanie on my head and wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck in an effort to conserve some body heat. While I was doing that, I heard a snap of a twig somewhere off to my right. My steps faltered as I listened for more, but the forest fell quiet, so my eyes searched for any movement that I couldn’t hear. There didn’t seem to be anything, even with me staring off into the misted woods for several long moments. 

Unsure whether or not I should be nervous, I continued onwards. It was probably only a deer or some small critter. Other werewolves usually stayed far away from me when they were in their wolf forms, not wanting to make me feel unsafe or face Jayde’s over protectiveness. Of course, that didn’t mean I would never accidentally come across someone’s path eventually. I kept my eyes and ears peeled just in case. 

My peaceful surroundings consumed me again, so many beautiful sights ranging from minute details on the side of the trail to grand landscape scenes that broke through some of the trees, showing miles and miles of snow-covered mountains. It made me think of the present Jayde gave me yesterday. I reached for the necklace, smiling when my fingers found it peeking through my scarf. The freezing air made the metal pendant cold to the touch, but I didn’t mind. I just wanted to be reminded of the best gift I’ve ever received. 

Another rustle in the woods behind me made my head snap around. This time, I was positive that whatever or whoever it was had to know I was here, and they weren’t trying to avoid me. I backed away from the sound, trying not to be alarmed by the presence. 

“I can hear you.” I called out, “Do you need something?” 

There wasn’t an answer. And there wasn’t any movement out there. 

I continued to back up while I searched my surroundings for any sign of someone. Just as I was starting to get uneasy, the back of my legs connected with something large and soft. I hopped forward with a startled yelp and flipped myself around to see Jayde in her wolf form standing there with her tail wagging and her tongue lolling out in a wolfish grin. She had been messing with me the whole time. 

“Are you serious?” I yelled at her through a laugh. 

Jayde sat on her haunches, looking proud of herself. The color of her fur blended so perfectly with the snow around her that she probably didn’t even have to try all that hard to be stealthy. There’s no way I would have been able to spot her from a distance. 

“You scared me, you know.” 

She gave me a teasing bark and leapt towards me. Her massive wolf body playfully tackled mine into the built up powder on the ground. I started laughing while her snout poked me in all of my ticklish spots, trying to wrestle her head away. A growl rumbled in her chest when I grabbed her muzzle and clamped it shut with my hands. 

“What are you gonna do now?” I challenged. 

I held on tighter when she tried to shake me off, forcing her to use one of her giant paws to pry my hands off of her. I took advantage of the fact that she had to be gentle with me, shrugging her claws away from my arms. Knowing that she was at a disadvantage, Jayde growled even more menacingly in my face, but I wasn’t deterred in the slightest. I simply raised one of my eyebrows and placed a quick kiss to her forehead. That shut her up fast. 

Once she shook it off, she snorted indignantly and plopped herself down right on top of me, effectively pinning me to the ground and further into the pile of freezing snow. It reminded me of the way large dogs sometimes don’t understand that they aren’t lap dogs. I lied there groaning for a few seconds before her weight was too much. 

“Alright, alright. Truce?” I suggested in a strained voice.

Jayde gave a single nod and stood up at the same time I released her muzzle. I sat up and shook my head at her with an exasperated grin. She stared right back at me with glowing amber eyes, her tail still wagging, and waited. 

“Well, hello.” I giggled and held my arms out. 

The white wolf immediately fell into my embrace, nuzzling against my head and knocking my beanie askew. I ran my hands through her fur, enjoying the softness and the insulated warmth of her wolf form. She was definitely built for this kind of weather. It made me want to find a spot and curl up with her because I could feel the melting snow begin to soak into my clothes. I shivered again, my teeth chattering, and pulled her closer, which resulted in a concerned grumble from her. 

“Maybe we should head home soon. I think I’m in the mood for a hot bath.” I said. 

Jayde leaned back to cock her head curiously at me. Then she stood up and gently bit my sleeve to pull me to my feet. I laughed at her sudden enthusiasm and gladly started to follow her back to the Lodge where we could get nice and cozy together for the rest of the day.

[darksunrising]

Sola Gratia (1/?)

Masterlist

Summary : A tired, fed-up archaeologist takes a spontaneous trip to Romania, hoping the Wallachian mountains, the nature, and the silence, will help her resource herself. She didn’t expect getting caught in a storm, didn’t expect finding shelter in an old castle, and didn’t expect for it to be inhabited.

Rating / Warnings : General Audiences, no warning.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 1/? (1404 words)

Author notes : This is the first part of god knows how many. Ask me if you want to be in the tag list ! Comments, feedback, and sharing are very appreciated, as this is the first thing I’m actually posting :) Hope you enjoy !

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A streak of silver split the sky open, slithering out along the heavy clouds a moment before fading into darkness. Crouched in a small cavity I could barely fit in, I buried my face further into my scarf. The pouring rain had cut through all my layers of clothes. I wondered if I would ever get any sensations back to my toes. Or my fingers. Would it have killed me to check the weather this morning? It would, wouldn't it? My phone still stubbornly refused to give out any signal, and it was a 7 hour trek back to the nearest village. I was, as we like to call it in academia, royally fucked.

According to my map, there were no man-made structures anywhere close-by, which made sense as the Tourist Office map carefully outlined that the entire zone was restricted. Something about wolf attacks. Or was it bears? If you ask me, some sheep got eaten by a local dog, superstition got there and that was the end of it. Then again, if you tempt me with a quiet, people-less trek in the middle of nowhere, well, of course I'll bite. Even if I could get help, I had no idea what kind of trouble I'd be in for going so far into The Forbidden Mountain. It wasn't like I could sit here forever, at least not if I wanted to finish my life in any other way than hypothermia, or lightning-roasted like a crisp chicken wing. I stood up, only banging my head on the rocky overhang a little, and tried to get back to the path. I mean, if there was a path, there had to be at least some kind of lodge. Right now, I'd go with any kind of creepy little cabin, as long as it had a roof.

Raising my head, I suddenly noticed a flickering red light, through the blinding white of the lightnings. A campfire? Unlikely. Maybe the cabin I hoped for, and with company. Maybe an axe murderer. Who knew? At least, that way of dying would be original. Would make for a sexier news title than “dumbass french tourist dies struck by lightning in mountains she was clearly told to keep out from”.

Struggling not to slip onto the muddy, mossy wet stone as I paced forwards, I couldn't help but shiver under the biting cold wind and the pouring rain, stinging my face like so many needles. Considering the deep darkness the heavy clouds cast on the mountain, it would be a minor miracle if I didn't die, tripping on a murderous root before I reached the salutary orange light.

Rather than sinuous path I had followed all along my trek, I noticed a smooth, very worn path, almost straight through the forest, even though the stones were leveled by trees every once in a while. I figured it had to lead to something, and started following it. After a moment, it came to a clearing that led to a more desolate part of the mountain Even the tall pine tress that already had replaced the tortuous oaks seemed to vanish, if you didn’t account from fallen trunks and dead stumps. Raising my head, I used my hands as a visor to ward off the rain. I noticed what I'd been calling a cabin was way too big to be called that. Perched on a rocky outcrop, it didn't need much protection considering the cliffs surrounding it. It almost looked like one of those optical illusions, with impossible stairs and unlikely architecture. The vacillating light was still there, casting an orange glow through the windows. If there was no axe murderer, there had to be a vengeful spirit of some kind. There, knew I should have taken some salt with me, or a giant cross, or a ouija board.

Not deterred by the sinister appearance of the building, I kept on going through the path, sinuously climbing up the mountain ridge. It finally came to a plateau as my legs were about to give out. Out of the cover of the trees, the rain seemed even worse, and I struggled to even walk. All around, ruined houses of wood and stone had crumbled, as if abandoned for centuries. I usually enjoyed ghost towns, but this one made me fairly uneasy. Was this the actual reason the mountain was restricted? Did I walk into some kind of biohazard situation? Just in case, I raised my scarf to cover my nose, as if it would do any good if I were to catch the plague or something. Except for the howling wind and rain, and the occasional deafening thunder, everything was silent. No one lived there, as far as I could see, except for the light, further up, in the castle. I wondered if I should just take shelter in one of the houses, and call it a day, but the possibility of a warm fire was over any kind of haunting this might involve.

I paced down the street. Some of the buildings seemed like they housed a large variety of artisans, before. Glass bottles full of unidentified, mostly rotten things, or dried herbs, some half faded paint on wooden signs hanging above the main entrances. Felt even more uneasy. Some doors, hanging open. Carts with broken wheels, still loaded with crates. Didn't look like anything was pillaged. What the hell happened here? When? Not like the weather would allow for a newspaper to survive, but… On the ground, near one of the shops, a glint of silver caught my eye. Small coin. Squinting a little, I was able to make out the crest. Local, obviously, maybe 14th, 15th century? Well, that would explain the decrepitude of the place. 

At the end of the “main street”, a gigantic hardwood door was the sole opening of the stone wall defending the castle. It was in a surprisingly in good shape, considering the rest of it. It still looked like it hadn't moved in a while, left ajar, barely enough to let me through. It opened on a vast yard, all but the central path invaded by weeds and saplings, the walls overrun with ivy and moss. My heart thumping hard into my chest, I approached the main entrance, two carved wooden doors standing atop a few stairs. Gathering all my courage, I lifted the bronze hand figure, and knocked down three times on the door. I heard the sound resonate on the other side. I waited a moment, and as I was about to knock, the door clattered loudly, before slowly swinging open in a long, ominous creak. Hesitant, I took a deep breath, and slipped into the hall. Seeing no one, I pushed the door back, and it clicked as it closed. Maybe I had just locked myself in. Well, I was raised to be polite and close the doors not to let in drafts, something that still applied to axe murderers and their homes. Apparently.

“Hello ? Is anyone home?”, I asked in a very approximative romanian.

No response. Someone had to have opened the door, right? Right. The hall was eerily quiet, considering the rain hammering at the windows. Surprisingly enough, everything seemed rather clean. No dust, or overwhelming presence of spider webs, no broken windows as far as I could see. I put down my heavy bag on the floor, against the main door. At the end of the hall, a large corridor ran deeper into the castle, softly lit by the same orange glow that led me here in the first place. I decided, despite my howling preservation instinct, to go toward the light, drawn like a moth to a flame.

I tucked my dripping wet hair behind my ears. Being out of the storm made me realise just how cold I was exactly. My clothes were completely soaked, sticking to my skin like a layer of ice. I didn't bother even looking into my bag for a change. The corridor was long, and the windows on the left wall gave a vertiginous view of the valley and the forest, illuminated only by the intermittent lighting strikes. The trees were so far down below I elected to keep my eyes away from the abyss. My every step echoed on the polished stone tiles as I hesitantly made my way forward. So much for being discreet. I felt watched, but put this on the count of my paranoia.

The corridor ended on a large room, a bit bigger than the main hall. At the end of it, a very large fireplace was lit, which explained the whole thing. From the ceiling, chandeliers made of unusually large deer antlers projected twisted, shifting forms on the walls.

“Is anyone here?”, I asked again, still bound on butchering the romanian language.

No response, again. In front of the fireplace, a terrifyingly large bear pelt was laid on the stone floor, along with a couple of armchairs and sofas. The walls were covered in large tapestries. Above the hearth, a large, bigger than life-size portrait of a man, standing proud, a hint of a smile on his lips. The colors were faded, and the paint had started to crack and chip at the corners. Trusting by his clothes, I would date it somewhere at the turn of the 19th century. The way it was painted made me feel like he was looking straight at me, which made me feel even more uneasy than I already was.

“I always thought it was a disputable likeness.”

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Tag list : @carydorse @thewondernanazombie @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @battocar @moony691 @mjlock

[nalgenewhore]

It was almost a year to the day, the anniversary of the day her world had been flipped upside down and the pain was still completely fresh, a new wave of it every single time she saw something that reminded her of him, of them. 

Elide had already told her boss she wouldn’t be in that day and planned to stay at home mending her shattered heart. Just thinking about him had her chest clenching and her throat closing as she fought back tears, wanting nothing more than to curl into a ball and cry. 

The night air was bitingly cold as she at last stumbled out of Blueblood, the local club, and began to make her way home. Her ankle was smarting from the time she had spent dancing with her friends, letting the beat and the tune carry all her woes away even if just for one blissful moment when it was only her and the music. 

Once she was outside, the giddiness and warmth she had felt in the club left her and as she waited for a cab she watched as people spilled out of the building, happy couples hanging off each other and she remembered she was alone. 

Tears pooled in her eyes and she looked down at the sidewalk, eyes tracking over the cigarette butts and gum ground into the. Someone slammed into her back, causing Elide to stumble onto the road, freezing when a car swerved around her and nearly hit her. Hands dragged her back onto the sidewalk and when she turned to thank them, she almost sobbed because for one, tiny second, the stranger had his face but then it was over and she saw he was just an ordinary man, nothing special about his features, nothing remarkable about his black eyes. “Are you okay?” 

Elide nodded, her heart beating hard, “Yes. Thank you.” 

“Don’t worry about it, have a good night!” The man called over his shoulder as he left through the crowd, leaving her mind just as soon as he left her sight it seemed. 

She didn’t know how long it took for her to get home and she didn’t care, not as she closed the door behind her, the sound of the lock sliding into place deafening in the frigid silence of her apartment. She heard paws padding on the dark walnut floors, Hellas’ nails clicking with every step as he walked up to her, his heavy tail wagging. 

“Hey, buddy,” she murmured as she ran her hand through his thick coat, the Husky nudging her thigh with his head, his eyes wide and sad and he let out a soft whine, looking at the door behind her when no one walked through it. She knew exactly who he was missing when his tail dropped and they both walked into the living room, Hellas pressed into her side like he was holding her up. 

Elide settled into the loveseat, eyes on the electric flames dancing behind the glass of her fireplace, her dog curling up beside her and she leaned on him, her head resting on his side, his coat thick and soft, varying shades of black and white. He rested his chin on his paws, staring at the door, even when she whispered, “He’s never coming back, bud.” 

Her phone buzzed and she dug it out of her back pocket, seeing Aelin had texted her. 

>>> hi lovie 

>>> u good?

She breathed out shakily as she typed her answer. 

<<< not in the slightest

>>> :( 

>>> anything i can do? 

<<< no 

<<< i’ll be ok eventually

She saw the three dots and turned her phone on Do Not Disturb before she could read whatever her sister had to say. She loved Aelin but nothing she said, nothing anyone could say would stop her from feeling like there was a hole in her chest. 

She had deleted his number long ago and it didn’t matter, she would know the ten digits that made it up for the rest of her days. 

Before she knew what was happening, she had tapped out his number on the keypad and pressed the phone icon, tapping on speakerphone as it rang, her heart in her throat when he picked up. 

“El?” 

Her voice failed her as she tried to answer him. She hadn’t known how much she had missed his voice, the low, rolling sound that came from deep in his chest. “I don’t know why I called.” 

“I’m happy you did.” 

She sat up straighter, Hellas turning to look at her, “You are?” 

Lorcan chuckled dryly and she could see it so clearly, him standing in his kitchen, only illuminated by the open fridge door, a slight smile on his face as he gently shook his head. “Of course I am. I missed,” he cleared his throat and the image changed to one of him sitting on his couch, elbows braced on his knees as he sat in complete darkness, his dog, Anneith, lying at his feet, his brow furrowed as he struggled to keep the hurt at bay. “I miss you.” 

Elide pressed her hand to her mouth like it could keep the sobs inside her. “I miss you, too. This car, it almost hit me and,” she caught his sharp intake of air, like it still made his heart race in fear when she got hurt. “And I thought the world was ending ‘cause the person who caught me when I fell,” her voice broke because the last time she fell, Lorcan had caught her like he always promised he would. “He looked like you, just for a second, I thought he was you.” 

“Are you okay?” It wasn’t despite himself that he asked her, he would always worry about her, would always break if she got hurt. If they were still as they had been, she would have laughed, chiding him for his protectiveness but they weren’t and it just reminded her of that. 

“If the world was ending, you’d come over, right? You’d come over and you’d spend the night and hold me tight and you would love me for the hell of it. We wouldn’t be scared and we wouldn't even have to say goodbye.” She breathed in deeply, “I know, we weren’t made for each other but if the world was ending, you’d come over, right? Right?”

“The world isn’t ending, Elide.” His voice was hard and she could still detect the strain, like he was trying to convince himself that they were right to break up. 

“But what if we pretended it was?” 

He didn’t say anything and she waited for what felt like an eternity before she heard the unmistakable sound of a call ending. What was left of her heart was demolished and she knew without a doubt, he had moved on and it was time for her to move on as well. 

Tears slipped down her face as her phone fell from her hand to the ground, the screen shattering but she didn’t care, she didn’t care as she stood up, Hellas barking softly and jumping down to walk beside her as she went to her room. 

The dog hopped onto her bed, turning in a circle before flopping down, resting on his side as she dried her tears and undressed, leaving her clothes where they landed. She opened the drawer beneath her wardrobe, feeling like she was mended and torn apart when in opening the heavy blackwood drawer, his scent of clean, midnight rain, wild wild wind and campfires, filled her senses. 

Elide dwelled on every item of clothing she had in the drawer, reaching out a trembling hand as she sat cross-legged to touch each piece of him. She laughed in spite of herself at the memories behind each t-shirt and hoodie and sweatpants, every scrap of them that was woven in the fabric.

Her heart became heavy as she took out one of his hoodies, her favourite one because it felt like his arms were wrapped around her when she wore it. She pulled it over her head, her fingertips barely sticking out of the sleeves only this time, this time it was just a hoodie, the feeling of him holding her tight forgotten. Elide shut the drawer slowly and rose from her spot on the floor before crawling into bed but not beneath the duvet, instead she rested her head on Hellas, her tears dripping onto his fur. 

Hellas shifted, bopping his nose on her forehead, letting out a low whine before bumping her again, prompting a tearful laugh from her, her hands smoothing over his belly, his tail sweeping back and forth. “We don’t need him, do we? No, we’ll be just fine, just fine, Hell.” 

He shot her a look that asked You sure about that? And she wasn’t, she wasn’t sure about anything. 

She was drawn out of her thoughts when someone knocked on her door and quicker than he usually did, Hellas was up, racing through her apartment to the front door. He barked at the door, not sitting like he usually did as Elide made her way to him, leaning down to scratch his ears, “Who is it, bud?” 

Another bark came from the other side of the door and she froze, blood running cold while she opened the door to find Lorcan standing on her doorstep, Anneith on her leash next to him. Hellas tried to squeeze past her to get to the other Husky but she grabbed his collar, holding him in place as she and Lorcan stared at each other, his eyes darkening at the sight of her in his hoodie. “You’re wrong, El.” 

“Wrong about what?” 

“Us. We were made for each other and you know it.” 

The Husky she was restraining struggled and she couldn’t hold him as he broke free, crashing into Anneith, the two of them tumbling to the floor of the hallway. Lorcan let the leash drop, their eyes still locked on the other’s. She hadn’t seen him in over three months, that awkward moment when they bumped into each other on their morning runs before she had gone home and cried over him again. He looked good but then again, he always did except for the circles under his eyes, the slightly flat light of his eyes and she suspected he saw the same things in her. “Then how did we get here? How did we ruin us if we were made for each other?” 

“Because we took it for granted, I took you for granted and it was the right decision, it was right for us to end things at the time because we fucked it up but,” he trailed off, silver brimming in his eyes.

“But what?” She crossed her arms, gripping the cotton fabric to stop herself from reaching out to him. 

“But it’s wrong now. It’s so unbelievably wrong and the world ending shouldn’t be the only reason we’re allowed to see each other, for me to tell you I love you, I always have and I will never stop loving you, Elide Lochan, I will spend the rest of my days on this gods-forsaken earth loving you the way you deserve, if that’s what you want.”

Elide sniffled as she nodded, half-sobbing as Lorcan smiled and she stood on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck and his arms banded around her waist. “That’s all I want.” 

A furry body rammed into them and they broke apart, laughing as they looked down at Anneith and Hellas, the two dogs’ sides pressed together as they shoved Lorcan and Elide out of the way to pad into her apartment, Anneith’s leash dragging on the floor behind her while they made their way to the warm spot in front of Elide’s fireplace, curling around each other. 

“Annie missed you,” Lorcan murmured as she wrapped her arms around his waist and he closed the door. “She would always stare at the door after I walked in, like you would be right there.” 

“Hell did that, too. He’d sometimes wait on the carpet, standing and waiting for you even when I told him you weren’t coming back.” Elide swore under breath when she stepped in a manner that had most of her weight shifting onto her right ankle and he didn’t hesitate to scoop her up, lifting her like she weighed nothing. 

She smiled and nuzzled her face into his neck, sighing contentedly, “I missed that.” I missed you were the words she didn’t speak but the ones he could hear just as clearly. 

“Me too.”

@myfeyrelady @kandasboi @the-regal-warrior @highqueenofelfhame @westofmoon @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @city-of-fae @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tangledraysofsunshine @tswaney17 @ttakeitbacknoww

[captainsassmanes]

I Sleep to Dream

Read here on A03

The first time Alex had a dream, he was fourteen.

It had been a particularly rough night at the Manes house; two of the boys having to stand outside in the rain holding bricks for an hour after not finishing their dinner. Alex had come back inside, shivering and furious, desperate to run away and completely aware that he didn’t have the means to.

He’d grabbed a towel from the bathroom and dried himself off as best he could with shaking hands, throwing on the warmest pajamas he owned. That hadn’t been the worst punishment he’d ever received from his dad, but it felt different tonight. It felt more personal.

And it left him feeling vulnerable.

As he laid in bed, watching red, neon numbers slowly tick the night by, the tears slid out and fell down his cheek. Eventually, exhaustion took him.

But it took him to the most beautiful place he’d ever seen.

He was in what he could only describe as a palace. It was all glass, with gold trim and marble floors. Everything looked regal and grand but warm and somehow welcoming. A loud noise broke through the silence, scaring him into hiding behind a sculpture he had practically knocked over. On his left, a group of soldiers appeared. They didn’t appear to be carrying any weapons, but they dressed in golden armor matching that of the great room. On his right, a door swung open, at least ten stunning people entered, dressed in clothing that seemed to be moving for each person, complimenting their bodies completely.

Two people stood on top of a dais, a tall man with a golden crown and a statuesque woman, blonde hair to her waist and glowing flowers decorating her hair. With a nod of the woman’s head, the army yelled out in unison and split down the middle. Between the two groups, a man appeared who had Alex practically walking out to the middle of the room for a closer look.

He wore a helmet, golden of course, that wrapped around his forehead and down his jaw. His armor was similar to the other soldiers, the exception being the inscriptions on the torso, a language Alex didn’t recognize.

“My brother,” the crowned man announced with open arms. After a quick embrace, the two men separated, allowing the regal woman to step forward. She brought long fingers under the warrior’s chin and lifted his head up. “Did you find what you were looking for, Commander?”

With a quiet laugh, the man removed his helmet, revealing curls and the most remarkable eyes Alex had ever seen. The man’s jaw was sharp, and his mouth held humor despite the power he clearly possessed.

The man smiled and looked directly at Alex who stopped breathing.

“I did.”

*******

A few years later, when Alex meets Michael Guerin and his siblings, he runs away.

Not so much running as walking quickly and trying not to panic.

Later, when Maria and Liz questioned him about what happened, he made up some bullshit story about having a stomachache and going home early.

He had no idea what he was supposed to say.

That’s the man I’ve dreamed of? I saw them in my dreams? I think they’re royalty?

He’d sound like a lunatic.

So, he did the most logical thing he could. He avoided all three of them at all costs.

Until he couldn’t.

“Alex, right?”

He closed his eyes tight and kept walking, praying he wouldn’t walk into anything and that he wouldn’t pass out.

“Alex, wait!”

Trapped, he stopped and took deliberate, deep breaths. He turned slowly, brows furrowed and heart racing.

“Hi. I’m Michael. Guerin. I’m in your chem class.”

Alex nodded with a small smile as he tried to inconspicuously avert his gaze. Every time he caught sight of those hazel eyes and free curls, he pictured a man draped in gold, chest puffed in pride, a look that saw right through him.

“Um, anyway,” Michael cleared his throat and Alex wondered how long his mind had wandered as he stood in front of his literal dream man. “Your friend, Liz, suggested I talk with you about getting some notes for class. I’m a little behind since we came in late.”

With shaking hands, Alex twisted his backpack to his front and dug for the notebook he needed. “Here you go,” Alex said as evenly as he could.

Michael smiled, taking the notebook and Alex’s heart with it. “Thanks, man. I really appreciate it. I hate feeling lost.”

Alex made a sound of agreement. “I get that.”

He looked up through his lashes and found Michael staring at him, head tilted slightly in puzzlement. Quickly shoving his backpack into place, he smiled and said, “see ya around,” and practically jogged out of the school.

****

That night he was brought back into the golden world. This time he found himself in a bedroom, ornate and, he thought boldly, a bit gaudy. A huge bed with soft linens and far too many pillows were the focal point of the room. Large windows looked over what appeared to be a lake but offered waves like the ocean in a stunning teal blue. A fire roared in a marble-like fireplace but, from his quick glance, Alex saw nothing that should make it glow.

The large door opened suddenly, and Alex threw himself behind a curtain, holding his breath. Michael had entered with a sigh, looking tired and worn. Alex was overwhelmed with the desire to take care of him; wash off the day, remove his uniform, rub sore muscles into comfort. He brought his hand to his throat and swallowed, concerned about how dry he suddenly felt.

Michael sat at the end of the bed and removed what appeared to be a gold crown. He held it in his hands for a while, moving it this way than that, before shaking his head and placing it beside him. With a groan he stood and moved to a large mirror hanging on the wall. Slowly, he removed his clothing; a gold and white jacket that seemed to glow wherever Michael touched it and matching pants. His large black boots, something Alex thought looked something like he would wear back in Roswell, looked odd with the outfit but he assumed was mostly practical.

Alex realized, a bit late, that he was watching Michael take his clothes off in the privacy of his bedroom. He closed his eyes, praying to the sleep gods that he’d wake up, when a soft, heartbreaking sound forced his eyes open. Michael had moved to the edge of the bed, beautiful covers thrown to the side as though he’d intended to rest, but he held his head in his hands, fingers curling tightly in his hair, and sobbed.

Without his permission, his feet began to move. He was so drawn to this man, this king, or God, he couldn’t stop himself. Wondering briefly if he was even real in this world, he reached out a shaking hand to place softly on Michael’s damp cheek.

Without looking up, Michael moved his hand to cover Alex’s, leaning into the comfort he brought. After a moment, he twisted his head to place a kiss to Alex’s palm. Michael’s hand felt strong and rough from, what he imagined, were many battles fought, and hopefully won. In this moment, he wanted nothing more than to hold Michael close and whisper reassurances and love.

Michael stood slowly while Alex froze in awe.

Michael was so beautiful.

Hands came to cradle Alex’s face while Michael rested his forehead against Alex’s, his eyes closing in comfort.

“You’re my light. You’ve always been my light.” He lifted his head and smiled sadly at Alex. “Please don’t leave me in the dark.”

******

Alex was most definitely no longer avoiding Michael. He walked around each day with the ghost of Michael’s touch on his face, his breath caressing his cheeks. Michael’s words reverberated around his head day in and day out. He found himself looking for any excuse to be in Michael’s presence, across a room, standing a few people behind him in the cafeteria, timing his exits just right to bump into him in the hallway.

Alex’s fear and confusion over who Michael was and why he had dreamed of him had morphed into an overwhelming need to be near him.

To his frustration, Michael didn’t seem to notice. Outside of a few meager attempts at small talk, Alex had felt unseen.

It was a dreary Wednesday morning following a particularly challenging Tuesday night at home. He had put on some of Liz’s concealer trying to cover the darkening bruise around his eye, his friend tearing up as she kept repeating, “it’s too dark. It doesn’t match.” He gave her a hug and a kiss to the head, providing the reassurance he wished he had.

Standing at his locker, a picture of Brendon Urie staring back at him, he heard Kyle’s voice before he saw him and tensed in preparation. Alex vividly remembered his adventures with Kyle; tree forts and getting lost in the woods, campfires and scary stories. He adored Kyle, looked up to him. His friend had always been so kind. Any animal that was hurt, any tears Alex spilt after his brothers pushed him around, the panic he felt when his mom left, Kyle was there with a soft voice and kind words, always knowing what to do.

Then puberty hit and Kyle’s growing need to be accepted outweighed his friendship with Alex. His gay friend, Alex.

Now, as he closed his eyes and waited for the abuse to begin, he thought of the Michael from his dreams. Strong and brave, he’d keep him safe from the bullshit.

Someone would care about him.

“Nice outfit, Manes. Only one you own?”

He stood up straight, shoulders back and chin raised. His bravado dropped when he found Kyle wasn’t alone. About four of his jock strap buddies were standing behind him, laughing and smirking while they shared their one remaining brain cell.

Today, Alex decided, was not a good day for a fight. A throb in his eye reminded him that he’d seen his fair share of violence over the last twenty-four hours; he could use a break. Silently, he closed his locker and tossed his backpack over his shoulder.

One minute he was walking forward, the next he was being pulled back and thrown onto the floor. As the five assholes stared him down, he realized with horror, that he was on the verge of tears. He couldn’t understand why people couldn’t just leave him alone. For years he longed to be seen, for someone to notice him and care about him. Now, he just wanted to vanish into the scuffed, dirty tile.

“Hey. Hey!”

Alex had shut his eyes as he waited for the first kick to come but, when he opened them, his curly haired angel kneeled next to him with concern on his face. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

Alex looked around, confused but relieved. The group of boys had scattered, Michael was kneeling next to him trying to get him to sit up and Isobel and Max Evans were leaning casually against the nearest set of lockers, watching closely.

Without taking his eyes off Michael, Alex shook his head. “No, I’m okay. Thanks.”

Michael smiled and helped him stand.

Brushing away the crap he’d gotten on his clothes, Alex tried to think of something to say. He hadn’t been this close to Michael in a while and found himself breathing a little easier with the safety he felt.

“I think we should talk. Away from school.”

Alex nodded, falling defenselessly into the stunning hazel staring at him.

With a smile and a nod, Michael said, “meet me at the UFO Emporium at 6, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Before he walked away, Michael took Alex’s hand in his and squeezed gently. Alex watched him go, his siblings taking up the rear like they were used to moving in formation.

Alex’s hand felt warm, a tingling sensation radiating slowly from his fingertips into his wrist and then on to his forearm. When he looked down, he was glowing, a subtle shade of orange. His heart raced as excitement flooded him.

Time for answers.

******

It was 4:30 when Alex arrived at the Emporium. He’d gotten home after school, all nerves and adrenaline, which immediately caught his father’s attention. Before he had to answer any questions or simply annoyed Jesse with his presence, Alex had headed right back out.

He let his mind wander as he sat on the warm pavement, feet in front of him knocking a stone around. What did Michael want to talk to him about? Was he having dreams, too? Were they the same? Or was Alex some kind of king in his dreams? What about the glowing? Had Michael felt that, too?

What the fuck did it all mean?

He grabbed a granola bar from his backpack and started snacking, feeling a little nauseous from the rapid-fire thoughts.

“Hey.”’

Coughing, Alex looked up at an apologetic Michael, haloed by the sun setting behind him. He’d never looked more beautiful.

Once he gained his breath and swallowed the offending bite, he whispered a, “hey” in return and stood up.

Indicating the doors with his head, Michael headed inside the building, hands buried in his jean pockets. Alex took another deep breath, refusing to acknowledge how shaky it was, and followed him in.

They stood together in one of the display rooms, a geo exhibit featuring moon rocks and alien debris. Alex rolled his eyes, banking on the fossils being a bunch of plastic shit behind well lit glass.

He was beginning to feel more nervous and unsure of where this conversation would lead. The doubt was slamming into him in waves; this could have absolutely nothing to do with the dreams or the weird, glowing hand magic. Maybe he was just losing his damn mind.

Before he passed out, Alex cleared his throat and started with the benign. “So, uh, thanks again for earlier. I’m sure I would have—”

“Have you had some odd dreams, Alex?”

With his mouth still open, Alex nodded. Michael sighed and ran his hands through his hair, turning so his back was to Alex.

“You glow.”

With a raised eyebrow, Michael looked over his shoulder. “Excuse me?”

Feeling a spark of confidence, Alex stepped forward. “When you touched me earlier. My skin turned orange. Well, like an orange, yellow type color. But I glowed.”

“Fuck.”

Michael looked disappointed and Alex’s stomach sank. He didn’t want to make Michael upset. He’d felt nothing but an aching desire to make him happy for weeks now even though he stamped it down as best he could.

“I’m sorry, Michael.”

Seemingly confused, Michael asked, “for what?”

Alex shrugged, looking toward the exit and wondering if Liz would let him sleep over tonight so he didn’t have to be alone. “I just didn’t mean to upset you.”

“This is just so complicated, Alex.”

A fluorescent light buzzed, and a clock ticked from another room. Through his doubts and confusion, Alex had accidentally held onto hope; hope that the dreams actually meant something, that he meant something. That hope vanished with the slope of Michael’s shoulders and the way his gaze stayed focused on the floor.

He fished out his phone from his back pocket and headed dejectedly for the exit, pulling up a message for Liz when a hand on his backpack held him in place.

He bit his lip, angry with himself for getting emotional. Alex shook his head and said, “just let me go, Guerin. I clearly misunderstood, okay?”

But when he glanced over his shoulder to try shaking off Michael’s hold, he found that the other boy hadn’t shifted at all; he remained in the exact same spot.

“Wh-what?”

Walking forward with his head held high and shoulders back, Michael radiated a confidence he had never outwardly shown. In this world, anyway.

“Are you afraid of me, Alex?”

Shifting his weight to test if the hold was still in place and discovering its grip gone, he turned and shook his head.

“No.”

“If I told you the dreams are real? Are memories? My memories?”

Alex searched his eyes, looking for a lie but came up with nothing. Feigning calm, he shrugged. “I’d have a lot of questions.”

“And what if,” Michael stepped in so close they were chest to chest, Alex resisting the urge to simply fall into him, “what if I told you that there’s a reason you’ve been having those dreams?”

He thought about it and smiled, feeling nothing but warmth and kindness roll off Michael. The warrior Alex saw in his dreams stood before him, but he wasn’t intimidated. He felt at peace.

A shaking hand reached out and took hold of Michael’s, his thumb moving gently over the rough skin. Together, their hands came to life, a new variety of colors dancing across their skin and spreading up their arms.

Their eyes met and Michael’s smile left Alex weak. He leaned in, resting his forehead against Alex’s. “Where I’m from, this is only possible once in a lifetime. With only one other.”

Alex wrapped his arms around Michael’s waist as Michael’s nails scratched comforting patterns into his scalp.

“I’m your light.”

With a sigh and a mutual feeling of returning home, Michael nodded.

“And I’m yours.”

[confusedhost-archive]

Alright

Ao3 link

Warnings: Fae, knives, blood, gore, descriptions of injury, major character death, death, panic attack, body horror

Summary:  Xe breathed in. Out. "I'm alright." And xe were.

Kyle grinned up at the cottage. It was large, nearly brand new, and the area around was beautiful, with lush green grass and flowery fields. She grinned, grabbing her best friend's hand and pulling xem to the front door.

Alex stumbled, surprised. "Excited, huh?" xe laughed.

Kyle rose her brows, adjusting the pink bracelet around her wrist and grabbing the keys to the house. "You're kidding right?" she asked, inserting the key into the lock. "Of course I'm excited, I get to spend a whole week in this super awesome house, with my bestest best friend, and just- Oh gosh, this is going to be great!"

Alex's lips curled into a soft smile. It really was going to be great. Xe squeezed Kyle's hand, careful not to press xeir nails into her skin. "Yeah," xe whispered.

The two opened the door and moved apart to look over the house. Kyle gasped, jumping up and flapping her arms. "Oh my gosh!" she giggled. "Look at it, Alex!" She spun around, trying to take in the whole house immediately.

Alex moved over to the fireplace, taking in the intricate woodworking. "I'm looking," xe breathed, running a finger along the design. "It's beautiful."

Kyle grinned, bouncing over to the kitchen. "It's beautiful and it's ours!" There was a moment of awed silence between the two.

"I'm checking out the second floor," Alex decided, tracing a finger up the railing as xe walked. Down the hallway, there were two bedrooms (although, with Kyle's fear of the dark, they would probably end up sharing a room), a bathroom, and a closet. Alex peeked into one of the bedrooms, eyes widening when xe saw the start of the sunset. It was nearly 7:30, and the colors of the sky were blending together.

Alex stayed and waited for a couple minutes, ears ringing with the song of the forest and sun. The sky wavered, and the trees came alive, weaving a story of time and light. Xe listened, a calmness settling on xeir shoulders.

"Alex!" Kyle called, making xem shoot up. "I think we should go bring our stuff in!"

"Oh!" Alex gasped. "You're right, we should-" Xe rubbed at xeir ears, trying to get rid of the last notes of the song. "We should grab our bags."

Kyle grinned at Alex, and xe smiled back, teeth shining in the dim lighting. Kyle grabbed Alex' arm and pulled xem up. "Let's go!"

---

Alex grabbed the last three bags from the trunk and closed it with xeir hip. "That's it!" xe hummed, making their way into the house.

Xe dropped the supplies by the door, grabbing their suitcase. "I'm going to put my stuff away." Xe tilted xer head thoughtfully. "Actually, I'm not going to eat today. I'll be lying down to sleep, so don't wait up for me."

Kyle smiled, grabbing Alex' free hand. "Okay! Good night!" He gave xeir hand a squeeze, before letting go, pulling at the blue bracelet around his wrist. "Sweet dreams!"

Alex gave a tired smile in response, waving. "Night." Xe hefted xer bag up easily, carrying it to the room xe had been sitting in before.

Shoving the case into the closet, xe pulled out a pair of pyjamas and frowned. Xe were really tired. Did xe need to change, or could xe just stay in these clothes? Xe sat there for a minute, considering, until xe noticed the way xeir clothes rubbed against skin that wasn't xeir's. Xeir face scrunched up - even that feeling wrong - and rubbed against the body that didn't belong to xem. Disgust pooled in xeir stomach (Not xeir's, not xeir's-) and xe turned xeir head, disliking how xeir neck twisted too far and yet not far enough. A whisper of doubt plagued xeir thoughts, insecurity and fear almost shutting xem down.

Not right, shouldn't be here, need to go, knife, hurt, stab, rip, kill die not safe bad idea imposter not you run away unfair monster leave danger goawaypleasegetoutdon'twanttobeherenotallowednononoNONONONO-

Alex took a deep breath, xeir entire body straightening with it. The following exhale left with a shudder through xeir body, bringing some of the thoughts with it.

Again. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Again. In. Out.

You're alright.

Alex nodded to xemself. "I'm alright." And xe were. And xe would be.

---

Alex woke up the next morning, groggy and chest hurting. Xe didn't move for a minute, only perking up at the smell of eggs. Stumbling down the stairs, xe found Kyle cooking. "Oh!" Alex gasped, breathing in the aroma. The kettle whistled just then, and Kyle rushed to turn it off.

Alex noted absently that Kyle wasn't wearing a bracelet. No pronouns right now.

Kyle grinned up at Alex, gesturing to the breakfast that had been prepared. "Bone apple tea!" Kyle joked, taking one mug and a plate to a spot at the table.

Alex laughed. "Bone apple tea," xe responded, grabbing tea and a plate of xeir own. Xe smiled down at xeir food, then looked up at xeir best friend. "Kyle? Do you know what we're doing today?"

Kyle shrugged. "We could check out the fields, maybe pick some flowers?" Kyle's eyes were drawn to the tattooed crown of flowers that wrapped around Alex' upper arm.

Alex gasped. "Please? I would love that so much actually, thank you!" Xe looked hopefully at their best friend.

Kyle smiled. "It's settled then!" Kyle ate in silence, looking up to see Alex' clean plate. "You wanna put that away?"

Alex nodded, sliding xeir chair back and putting the dish back in the cabinet. "Alex?" Alex paused. "Could you grab the marshmallows? You can reach higher than me," Kyle continued. "Second shelf to the right- yeah, there!"

Alex reached up, snatching the marshmallows from their place on the top shelf. When xe turned around, xe were grinning, eyes wide and bright. "You told me we could have my first campfire soon." Kyle's brows rose, lips twitching into a smile.

"Campfire?"

"Campfire."

---

They had a campfire. They ate dinner, roasted marshmallows, and told each other spooky stories. They stayed out to watch the stars after it got too dark and the fire started to dwindle. It was fun, Alex acknowledged as Kyle's arms wrapped around xeir waist.

"Scared?" Alex asked, wrapping one arm around Kyle in a comforting squeeze.

Kyle nodded into Alex' side, murmuring a muffled, "Pitch black," and, "Don't like."

Alex smiled softly. "That's fair, but I'm right here, and I'll protect you!" Xe carefully didn't promise.

Alex felt Kyle smile and squeeze xem, giving a whispered, "Thanks."

Alex didn't respond, instead frowning as Kyle's grip didn't loosen. "Kyle? Hey Kyle, you can loosen up, I told you that-" Xe choked on xeir breath. "I told you that I'd protect you- Kyle-"

Kyle squeezed tighter, a snake devouring its prey.

"Kyle- Kyle, stop that, Kyle that hurts , Kyle- Kyle please- " Xe gasped, hating how Kyle was restricting xeir ability to breathe.

Xe inhaled quickly as xe felt the edge of a knife press against xeir skin. Bad, bad, bad, sharp, hurts, can't breathe, can't- no, NO, why is Kyle doing this, why is Kyle happy it hurts and it's starting to cut and it's badbecausecan'tdealwithcutslikehumansfragilenotstrongenoughtrytogetoutjustbreathebreathebreatheandliveandgetout-

Alex tried to wiggle out of Kyle's grasp, finding that xe were only succeeding in losing more blood and air. In a split second decision, xe pushed xemself away from Kyle, shrieking when the knife split a hole through xeir stomach. Xe tried to remember everything xe had learned about when xe were losing a lot of blood.

Keep the knife in.

Easier said than done, but- Alex tried to stop wriggling, only pushing away from Kyle, pushing into the knife. Xe gasped in pain, a small whining sound emitting from the back of xeir throat. Apparently Kyle knew what Alex was trying to do, deciding to pull the knife out and stab it back in, opening a new hole in xeir torso.

Alex screamed.

It was a horrible noise, like nails on a chalkboard, or the ringing in one's ears after an explosion. The Souls of the Lost shrieked with xem, grief and pain carrying across miles of area. Rows upon rows of teeth ripped through Alex' jaw, each one sharpened to a needlepoint. Xeir eye's widened, becoming bigger, less human, more predatory. Fingers elongated until it teetered on the edge of unnatural and nails sharpened to claws.

"We're far from any form of life. No one can hear you," Kyle growled, taking in Alex' new appearance.

Alex' eyes focused on Kyle, pupils narrowing into slits. Xeir jaw unhinged and xe dove in, aiming to rip Kyle's windpipe out. With a gasp, Kyle pulled the knife from Alex' stomach, and stabbed it into xeir cheek.

There was a moment of silence. Kyle didn't try anything, and Alex sat there, attempting to not pass out on the spot.

It was gone not a moment later. Alex slumped, tears mixing with blood around xem. Kyle got up and took a step away, looking mildly unsettled. Alex was using xeir last breaths to pray to spirits, ghosts, gods, anyone who could hear.

Kyle's face hardened and Kyle walked closer. "Shut up. The point was to get rid of a fae, not bring more." Kyle squatted down, pressing a hand to Alex' mouth, muffling xeir already troubled breathing.

Alex could hear the blood rushing in xeir ears, feel the burn that touched every inch of xeir body. Xe have no energy, so it's a wonder that xe managed to reach xeir arm up to pull Kyle's away from xeir mouth. Xe saw - barely - the surprised expression that crossed Kyle's face.

"What are you doing?" Kyle asked. Alex couldn't hear. Instead, xe laughed, or, made a sound that was close enough. Words in a language that humans could never hope to understand poured from xeir mouth, twisting into a symphony of pain. There was a rumbled note, and a high one, magic swirling and adding a beat. It was hypnotizing.

Kyle's eyelids drooped.

At the climax of the song, Alex cut off, timing Kyle's scream perfectly. Blood poured from Kyle's arm, both being's eyes drawn to the claws that ripped into the human's skin.

Kyle gasped for air, feeling panic take hold. Alex had stabbed right through the bone, and punctured a vein. The likelihood of Kyle surviving long after Alex pulled xeir claws out was low. "No, no, I can't-" Kyle pressed a hand to the cut, trying to stop the blood from pouring out. "Please, I can't- I can't-" Kyle sobbed.

Alex stared up at the stars, completely unaware of Kyle's dilemma. Xeir functions were shutting down, one by one. Hearing was gone, as was touch. All xe could do now was look up at the stars, and take one last breath. And so there Alex lay, frozen in stone, for a long, long time. 

Kyle wept, pain and fear taking over the human's brain until the end.

---

"Don't go near the campsite, you understand?" A mother would tell her children, years later. "The fae protect the murdered one, and if you disturb xem, you will be punished for your insolence." Her children would nod, glancing nervously at the forest whenever they went out to play.

Far deeper in the forest, fae lurked, surrounding a statue of a child, long dead. The stone was cracking, and the fae would giggle, sure to stay clear of the shell. The chrysalis was opening, and soon the beast would appear.

It would be alright.

For the fae, it would be alright.

[cupofcowboys]

Can I request that while charles is out hunting, he encounters witch/reader who is very lonely and looking for something to live for in life so he takes her back to the gang?

I really loved this concept so much, and I had a ton of fun writing it! I apologise that it took me a long time. I’m a slow writer at the best of times and I had a busy week. I hope it was worth the wait!

I went for a ‘realistic’ rendition of a witch, rather than fantastical. It’s my first time writing this so I’m kinda nervous lol. Enjoy!

TAGS: Minor Spoilers (Ch3), Femme Witch!Reader, SFW, Friendship, Romantic Friendship, Slight Angst, Witchcraft

TW: Depressive thoughts 

2,278 Words

-♥-

Wild rumours ran rampant throughout small towns. Yet Charles had never encountered a rumour quite so prolific as the “cursed woods”. Any traveller shuddered at the mere mention of its name, too afraid to recount the supposed horrors it held. From the little he could gather it was believed a terrible creature roamed the woods, slaughtering anyone who dared tread in its territory.

Pure superstition, he believed. If anything, it would turn out to be a particularly beastly bear or a cougar. Even so, he couldn’t deny that something felt off about these woods.

The air itself seemed to hum with energy. Whether benign or dangerous, he couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it set him on edge. Constantly checking behind his back, half-convinced something was following him, lurking just out of sight. He shook off the feeling. Pure placebo stemming from campfire horror stories.

He had been tracking a small herd of deer for some time now. One of them had a beautiful pelt, but a mutilated leg. Putting it out of its misery would earn him a few dollars and fill bellies at camp. Crouching low, he stalked, pausing only to check if he was still on track. He hardly noticed the deathly silence pressing in around him.

That was until he felt a tug and snap on his navel. Glancing down, he half expected to see a tripwire. Yet there was nothing but air. He hesitated, the skin on his neck crawling as minute hairs stood on end. A distinct feeling of being caught in a trap crept upon him. Just as he considered turning tail and running, an uncharacteristic desire, his attention was diverted again. A door creaked open just beyond a clump of bushes ahead of him. Swallowing, he shifted behind a thick trunk to his left, concealing himself from view.

The soft patter of bare feet on grass grew louder as someone approached. Charles drew an arrow from his quiver, nocking it and tracing the feathers absently as he focused.

A shadow of a figure hit the forest floor beside him, and he leaped out from behind his hiding spot. Aiming straight at the figure, ready to release at a moment’s notice. He almost released the arrow from shock.

A woman unlike any other jumped in surprise at his appearance, clasping a hand to her chest. Her hair was loose and unkempt, her dress several years out of fashion and patched with a myriad of mismatched fabrics.

“Oh my, sir!” She breathed hard, chuckling good-naturedly. “You didn’t half give me a fright, jumpin’ out like that!”

It took Charles a moment to lower his bow slightly, still unnerved by this unusual person.

“You frightened me, too.” He explained, eyeballing her nervously.

“Well, it happens. Not many folks in these parts.”

You gazed at the curious stranger who had disturbed your wards. Many a year it had been since anyone came to visit. You had almost forgotten what other people looked like. Witches were rarely accepted into society. The last time a stranger found you, they had run away in terror at the sight of your powers. Isolation was a natural part of the cards fate had drawn for you. Now that the opportunity presented itself, you weren’t about to reject a guest. Especially not such a handsome one.

“Why don’t you put that away.” You suggested, gesturing to the bow in his grip. “I just brewed a pot of tea and there’s enough for two. I’m (full name), by the way.”

“Charles Smith.”

“A pleasure, Mister Smith.”

With a short incline of your head, you turned heel and made your way to your cabin. After a brief pause, the sound of heavy boots told you he had complied.

The cabin you called home was small. Barely larger than a single room in a normal house, it was easy to miss in the trees. Mostyour domicile was outdoors. An expansive garden was your pride and joy. Full of herbs, vegetables, and flowers. Each one held a use and more value than any could fathom. Your carefully placed wards were a preventative measure on the wildlife, who loved to snack on your hard work. But they were handy for alerting you to intruders too. Pushing the door open, you stepped into the cluttered mess you lived in. A prickling of embarrassment rushed to your face. Years of not expecting company enabled bad habits.

Aside from the roaring fireplace, all had was a single bed, dining table, a few chairs and a kitchen. Most of it was lost under tomes, handmade charms, unfinished projects, and trinkets. Humble and messy, but home.

“Sorry for the mess. You’re my first guest in… years!” You laughed, busying yourself with your aged teapot.

When he did not respond, you glanced over to find his eyes sliding over your domicile. You could practically hear him piecing together what you were. While you made a show of pouring tea into old, chipped cups, you were on the alert. If he turned into a threat, you were ready.

It was only at the sound of your chair scraping that he snapped out of it. Turning around, he stared at your unassuming frame, gesturing at the cup balanced on a book about birds. He reached forward and took it, but did not move to sit. His dark eyes followed your every movement like a bird of prey. Bringing the tea to your lips, you took a small sip and watched as he mirrored it. However, he sniffed the liquid suspiciously.

“It’s chamomile.” You smiled. “I usually add honey but I ran out.”

He took a small sip of the liquid and withdrew his hand. His eyes bored into yours, half-suspicious and half-curious. All you could do was smile back benignly.

“You live out here alone?” He questioned.

“Just me and the wilderness.”

“I see.”

“Are you a dangerous man, Mr Smith?”

“Maybe.”

Together you stared at each other, gauging and judging. A silent game of chess. But you were a better judge. Honing into the aura he possessed; light and darkness danced together, a haze of grey smoke from a burning fire. Hatred turned him into a fighter. Battles fought only when necessary.

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head, smiling. “You’re just the same as I am. Good people hated for what we can’t change.”

His eyes widened at your words, darting across your features in search of lies or malice. All he found was a genuine desire for connection. His shoulders relaxed, and he tugged the vacant chair towards him, dropping into it and lounging backwards.

“I guess so.”

Swirling the tea leaves in the bottom of your cup before taking a hearty gulp, you grinned. Now the tension was gone, you marvelled at the opportunity. How long had it been since you made a friend?

“So, what brings you to my little patch of woods?”

–-

Hours of conversation pass by without alerting either of you. Charles turned out to be a man of few but well-placed and educated words. Admittedly, the conversation consisted primarily of your ramblings and gushing. Years of pent up news, opinions and ideas rushed out with minimal prompting from your guest. At first, you felt nervous of irritating him, but he proved to be a thoughtful and inquisitive listener. Your openness and honesty provided him the courage to open up in turn. So, by the time your tummies began to rumble, you knew each other quite well.

After polishing off several helpings of your stew, Charles rose from his seat. You had forgotten just how tall he was.

“I have to go…” He began to explain, giving you a look that plainly told you he wished he didn’t.

“Of course! It’s nearly nightfall.”

“Thank you for the food and conversation.”

“It’s been a pleasure, Mr Smith.”

You stood and extended your hand out for him to shake. Taking it in his, he shook it gently and exchanged warm smiles. There was a single moment of hesitation before his hand left yours. He moved to the door and was pushing it open when you gasped.

He turned to you curiously, but you were busy rifling through the clutter. Scrabbling through years of untidiness, you finally found what you were looking for. Grinning, you hurried over to the man.

“Here.” You held a closed hand out to him. “Take this. For protection.”

Charles reached forward slowly, and you dropped a small trinket into his hands. A protective charm you’d made some months ago. He looked down at the object, thumbing it around curiously. Then, looking up at you with a smile that sent butterflies to your stomach, he spoke;

“Thank you. I will treasure it.”

You were still staring after him in embarrassed bewilderment when he whistled for his horse. Standing in the door as he mounted, you watched as he cantered off into the trees, a salute in your direction his final goodbye.

Wandering back into your home, you spotted Charles’ empty cup. Smiling, you picked it up. Gazing down into the scattered leaves, you began to read the shapes within. Hints to the future filled your heart with warmth you’d never dared feel or hope for.

–-

The coming months brought return visits from Charles, always staying longer than he intended. More than once he pitched a tent outside and stayed overnight, much to your delight. Loneliness, once an intimate friend, became a foreign entity. A relationship of trust grew as you revealed more of yourselves to each other. He knew the truth of your identity and you knew his. You were unsurprised to hear about his gang. The life of an outlaw had its tells, even to you. Yet if he had a choice, you knew he would never choose it. Just as you wouldn’t have chosen a life of isolation. This simple understanding was the foundation of your friendship. Never judging, always kind.

And yet… there was more. A spark that kindled into a flame. A quiet, subtle sort of shift. In his absences, you spent many hours mulling it over. Before Charles, your life had been empty. Void of any light and purpose. It sounds ridiculous to your own ears. The idea that men gave women purpose angered and frustrated you, it wasn’t an ideology you welcomed or embraced. But if Charles were a woman, it would be the same. Years without human interaction took its toll. Nights spent wondering if it would even matter if you were gone.

There was no one to mourn you. No one to notice. Just the forest. If it wasn’t for your will to live, you may have given up.

So when Charles failed to visit for almost a month, you began to lose hope again. The only person you had to share your life with was absent. Not a word came. Not since he’d promised to “see you again soon” and vanished. Part of you knew that he was prevented from visiting, but there was a darker part. A part that wanted to convince you he just didn’t like you. Or he was dead. You couldn’t decide which was worse.

As time slipped by, each day the same as the last, you found yourself devoid of light. Hope dwindled away and distractions proved ineffective. Too many hours spent staring off into space, wondering at the fate of your friend.

That was where you found yourself now. Sprawled on your back, staring up at the vast blue sky, listening to the sounds of the forest. A book lay by your head, forgotten. Slowly, your eyes began to droop. The summer heat and idleness a blanket pressing down upon you. Darkness fell and you knew no more.

“(Y/N)?”

“Mm?”

“Are you okay?”

You opened your eyes. A pair of dark, muddy boots were inches from your face. With a cry, you recoiled and looked up in shock. There he was. The man you had been dreaming of. Staring down at you with mild concern was Charles. Jumping to your feet, you hugged him tightly.

“Oh, Charles!” You exclaimed, pulling away to beam at him. “I thought you had forgotten about me!”

“Never.” He affirmed, taking your hand in his.

“Wh-Where did you go?”

“We had to move. I was afraid to bring you trouble, so I stayed away.”

“I appreciate it but… I missed you so much. It’s… lonely out here. I never noticed it before, but now… it’s unbearable! I can’t stand it!!” You detached yourself from him. “All this time I’ve been trying to hide it but… I… I just wait for you to visit. It’s the only thing that makes me happy. I’m sorry… I shouldn’t tell you all this.”

You turned away. Shame and embarrassment throbbed in your heart. It was one thing to think it all privately and another to dump it on his shoulders. He had no responsibility to keep your happy. No responsibility even to visit. But as you turned to apologise, he took your hand again.

Pulling you closer to him, he looked into your eyes. Matching his gaze, you could tell he was considering something.

“Come with me.” He muttered.

“What?”

“I said, come with me. It’s not an easy life but… if you joined the gang you would be safer.”

“Y-You mean become an outlaw… like you?”

“No. Not an outlaw… there are women. They help in other ways.”

You stared. Out of all the suggestions you had expected, none of them were this. But now you thought about it, why shouldn’t you join?

After all, the world already hated you.

“I think… I’d like that, Charles.”

-♥-

My Masterlist

AO3

[spookyspaghettisundae]

It Came to the Wrong Town

The smell of meat roasting over the open fire sparked up conflicted feelings in his heart. His stomach growled and felt like a sharp blade made of pure hunger had just gotten rammed right into it—but a sense of guilt twisted the knife.

Something about that smell of burning wood—the stinging smoke in his nostrils, paired with the the scent of the roast—reminded him of his upbringing up north. But the thought of his dead horse being the source of his meal for the night elicited a deep and sorrowful sigh.

He looked up, squinting to see past the dancing flames and rising embers. A dead body rested by the campfire on the side opposite of the marshal, wrapped up in a blood-soaked blanket and tied up with rope so to not reveal his face. Little did the lawman know that he would be getting company soon—the living sort.

U.S. Marshal Ezrah McPherson rolled out a leather pouch on the dusty ground before him, laying it out. He started dismantling his revolver to clean it and distract himself from his depressing situation and current predicament. This way, it was easier to banish the thought of his loyal steed, Lightning, being dead.

He perished the thought of some dim-witted cattle thief by the name of Tobias Lonnie Stowell being responsible for Lightning’s untimely demise. The two-bit criminal had not even aimed at Lightning, he had tried to shoot the marshal.

Worse, McPherson loathed that bringing this outlaw to justice had been his only pursuit since arriving at the town of Dead End. Other things had led him here. Things he had prepared for, unlike petty crooks.

Unnatural things.

Even the circumstance of killing Stowell disappointed McPherson. He would have preferred to bring the man in alive and have him pay for his crimes. His aim had been off ever since a skinwalker claimed his left eye, so the shots had killed the crook, rather than disabling him.

The marshal sighed again and assembled his service weapon once more. Even missing a pinkie finger and some feeling in his left hand from a recent injury, he put the pieces back together with steadfast routine and swift precision. The gunslinger holstered the weapon in a flash and rolled the leather satchel with cleaning utensils back up, putting it into a saddlebag slung over a nearby rock.

He picked the skewer he had carved from the campfire and ate the roasted horse meat in silence.

“Waste not,” he murmured in between bites, chewing, and swallowing. His time with Tsela Hatali yielded such wisdom. He reminisced about his time with the medicine man—the shaman who had taken him in after his encounter with a skinwalker.

Although barely burnt and despite the meat smelling good, the bad feeling in his gut persisted. After the meal, he wiped his hands off on his pants. The night dragged on in silence with him retracing his route to get out here into the hills outside of Dead End, mentally mapping the way back to the trampled path from which he had chased Stowell.

He checked his pocket watch, closed it again, and pressed the secret button combination on it—causing tiny silvered blades to snap out from it. Using a whetstone from his duster’s pouch, he sharpened them to while away the time. The night’s cold set in, enveloping the pocket of comforting heat around the campfire, and the sharp contrast sent shivers down the marshal’s spine.

Without Lightning—or any horse, really—McPherson calculated it to take him three days to get back to the town of Dead End. Finding the way should prove no challenge.

He remembered the face of Miss Brubaker from the train ride over, quite comely and inviting. Then he remembered her sobbing face, twisted by fear and dread after encountering the madman they had killed in the freight wagon. Last he reckoned, she left town immediately the day after they arrived. The marshal pushed those memories back down into some dark recesses of his mind.

Then again, it was not like it was his fault. She had been too nosy for her own good. And she also had the luck to not know what the real threat on that train had been.

A wolf howled in the distance.

Funny, that, McPherson thought. One of the fellow marshals had told him those things had been hunted to extinction in these parts.

Instead of feeling more alarmed or alert from the sound, the monotony of twigs and coal crackling in the fireplace, coupled with the sense of solitude that overcame him, let his thoughts drift and wander aimlessly. Exhaustion finally caught up to him. The marshal slumped against the flat of the rock where he sat.

He fell asleep very quickly. Too quickly.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes as he sat up, alarmed by the silhouette of a figure standing in front of him. He had drawn his six-shooter and aimed it at his unannounced visitor before any thoughts even crossed his mind. With the back of his free hand, he rubbed his nose and snorted to clear his nose, blinking again to clear his vision.

The figure must have been eight feet tall. The marshal thought this giant of a man was wearing furs, but on his second take, he realized that this person was covered in shaggy fur from head to toe. Dark brown or dark red, he could not quite discern, for the glow of his campfire had died down quite a bit.

McPherson swallowed the bad taste in his mouth. He regretted his prayers to find the unnatural things out here.

The silhouette stared at him. Dark eyes glowered, in which the dying embers were reflected, dancing as those eyes stared with a wordless cruelty. The creature studied him. He studied it in turn. It stood upright on freakishly long limbs and had fur all over. Its hands were twice as long as those of a large man, but not nearly wide enough to look natural.

“Howdy,” the marshal growled. He cleared his throat, surprised by how gravelly his greeting had drawled out of his mouth. He had wanted to make that sound a bit friendlier.

The giant stared at him. It offered no response.

McPherson lowered the gun and nodded to the stick upon which he had roasted meat from Lightning without breaking eye contact with the creature before him.

“Got some more if you’re hungry,” he said.

After another awkward stretch of silence but no signs of hostility from the creature, he holstered the gun.

“You ain’t much of a talker, huh?”

McPherson chuckled and wiped over his lips with a thumb and index finger.

“Ain’t much of a looker, either. Well, you’re in good company here, ‘cause I’m neither of those things myself.”

McPherson chuckled again, but this time, it died in his throat after half of what it should have been. The smile faded from his face. The unsettling silence from the shaggy giant continued.

“Well, I hate to be a bad host, but if you ain’t gonna be partakin’ in my meal or sharin’ at least some words of greetin’s, I’m gonna have to kindly ask you to leave. Mister?”

For some reason, the marshal had hoped that the shift to a higher pitch in that questioning tone would prompt the creature to finally respond.

It stared. It never blinked. Its gaze burned.

McPherson made an effort of sitting still, keeping the posture of a relaxed statue. Underneath the surface, his heart raced and his nerves frayed. One wrong move, one twitch, and he would sling his revolver back out and shoot this thing in the skull.

It finally broke eye contact with him. Its gaze swept past the fire and locked onto the dead body of Tobias Stowell. The marshal followed its line of sight and felt even more unsettled by how long the creature stared at the wrapped-up corpse.

The marshal clicked his tongue.

“No funny ideas, Mister. The outlaw over yonder’s comin’ back to town with me. Would hate to have to waste some good bullets tonight, truth be told.”

The creature’s head turned with sudden speed, transfixed on the marshal’s eyes again. That set of eerie black eyes stared into the one steel-blue eye and one milky-white eye of the lawman.

It turned, and left. McPherson expected sounds, but it moved with complete and unnerving silence.

He waited for seconds. Moments. Minutes. Time dragged on with painful slowness. He checked his pocket watch and noted the ungodly hour of night before hiding it away in his pocket again. He shot a nervous glance around him to confirm that the hairy giant was gone.

The marshal wished it was so, but it was not meant to be. He could not see it, but he felt its terrible gaze upon him. It continued to study him. He did not know this for a fact, but he pictured it with vivid imagination.

Time melted away. The darkness of sleep overcame him again. McPherson struggled to stay awake, but his body refused. He sensed his true exhaustion being overtaken by something abnormal—something unnatural. Just like the creature’s presence. Under normal circumstances, he could have stayed awake. The lawman pinched himself regularly, yet fell asleep again.

When he awoke, the fire was out. Smoke rose from it and it stank to the high heavens, as if someone or something had urinated on it. Clouds covered most of the waning moon and dim shapes formed in McPherson’s field of vision.

Strange sounds reached his ears. Slurping, snapping.

A small, shaggy figure stood on the opposite side of the smoking, fireless fireplace. Wrong—it was a giant, like the one from before, but squatting next to Stowell’s body. Rope lay splayed out, frayed where horrendous strength had ripped it apart. The blanket, disheveled, fluttered in a gust of wind where it hung from a bush nearby, rather than being wrapped around the dead man’s body.

The snapping came from the bones that the giant split apart like the skin or shell around some succulent fruit. Sinew tore, flesh ripped, and the creature slurped again, sucking marrow from the insides of the corpse’s opened bones.

With delay, McPherson realized he had gasped once the creature and he locked eyes again. He reached for his gun, but it took forever to draw, for his hand weighed a million tons. His vision blurred and he squeezed his eyes shut to stop seeing double. Raising the gun and aiming at the creature, his arm swayed. He squeezed his eyes shut again, all the while feeling the dreadful gaze of this creature upon him.

Saiduka.

His finger curled around the trigger and squeezed, but all strength had escaped him. Even if he could have taken the shot, he might have missed—or worse, he might have shot himself in the foot.

The creature continued to stare at him. Saiduka, he thought, remembering Tsela Hatali’s lessons about the Manitou and the monsters. “The Paiute wiped them out. That is all you need to know about them, warrior,” Tsela had told him. Would his lips have obeyed him now, the marshal would have uttered profanities this very second, swearing up and down what kind of devil had ridden Tsela to share so little about them.

McPherson also wanted to say something, perhaps to shout and scare it away, but unseen forces continued to rob him of any strength and cognition. His tongue lolled and no sound escaped his lips. The claws of sleep grabbed at him still, dragging him back into a dream realm. For a moment, the marshal even wondered if this was real at all.

But his heart pounded like a drum. This was all very, terribly real.

The creature’s mouth opened, proving to be much larger than he had imagined. Its teeth were sparse and strangely rounded, disappearing again once it bit down on the femur and sucked more marrow out. Slurping, suckling, hungry. The smell of human refuse and feces now hit the marshal’s nose.

And the slurping sounds made McPherson’s stomach knot. Bile started climbing back up his throat, making him feel like vomiting.

But he was powerless—his hand plummeted to the ground, the revolver bounced down into the dust beside him. Some sort of spell must have crippled the lawman. This savage-looking creature wielded unnatural power.

It gingerly laid the femur onto the pile of mangled and dismembered body parts that used to be Stowell’s corpse and rose to full height.

Just blinking, McPherson missed how it had taken silent steps to stand right above him, towering over him. Although no light cast reflections in its eyes now, he felt its stare, piercing into his skull, penetrating his mind and soul.

He blinked again and it had crossed half the distance of squatting down next to McPherson. The rest of its body froze while a hand with impossibly long, lanky fingers, pitch-black and smooth like snakeskin, reached out to him. It crept closer and closer to his neck.

The clouds cleared up, the moonlight rendered the fur framing its silhouette into a bright and bloody crimson.

Before the creature’s gnarled fingernails could pierce the flesh of McPherson’s neck, it howled. A howl unlike any animal out here. A howl unlike anything a human would ever emit. It jolted back into standing, shying away from the small leather satchel hanging from the marshal’s neck.

The Saiduka hissed, and spat onto the ground. The dust and rocks sizzled where the spittle hit, dissolving the earth like acid.

It arched back and its hands curled, trading out any semblance of humanity for monstrous claws. It howled again, this time towards the sky. Hunching over and stumbling away from McPherson, it retreated, staring at him with hate. Its eyes darted back and forth between his face and the satchel from the medicine man that hung from his neck like a talisman.

The marshal managed to grasp the satchel and hold it tight. With every fiber of his being, he knew that something about the charm had warded this creature off. He clung to it like his life depended on it.

The creature retreated farther away, then lunged at him, hissing and snarling and baring its stumpy fangs at him. It then darted to the side, and snatched up a human leg from Stowell’s remains. It stared at the lawman with defiance, as if stealing away any morsels from the corpse was a hard-won victory.

McPherson’s eyelids grew heavy once more and he fought with all his might to keep them open. But the darkness of unwanted sleep overcame him once more.

A piercing cry awoke him. Hawk, he reckoned. McPherson scrambled to get back up on his feet, pawing around till he gripped his trusty revolver and slinging out the second one in his other hand. He swiveled several times, blinking furiously to regain his vision in the blinding daylight.

The creature was nowhere to be seen and flies already buzzed around the mutilated remains of Stowell. McPherson gagged and covered his mouth with the back of a hand, fighting the urge to vomit again. The smell of excrement and decay clung to his nostrils, having crept in there for the past hours as he lay unconscious by the extinguished campfire.

He shouldered the heavy saddlebags and staggered away from the grisly campsite.

After taking a break by the side of a stream, splashing his face with water and counting his blessings, he started looking for tracks. Before long, he found a footprint of something vaguely human but far too large, imprinted in the mud, followed by tufts of reddish hair clinging to branches where the woods began.

The lawman peered into the darkness beyond, where the forest swallowed up all the light. In his mind, the Saiduka stared back at him from there. He shook his head and shot that thought down the moment it started welling up.

McPherson decided to return to Dead End instead. He left the tracks behind him. He needed supplies and he needed to conduct some research. This thing was not going to elude him for long. McPherson thought one more thing as he began his march back to Dead End.

It came to the wrong town.

—Submitted by Wratts

[edward-richtofen-queen]

Beyond The Veil [Part 2 of 2]

Masterlist

Part 1 ← | Part 2 ↓

✼⋅•⋅•⋅⊱•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•∙∘❆༓❆∘∙•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⊰⋅•⋅•⋅✼

After moments of unbearable pain, Julie woke up covered in dried tears and distress—had Susie just betrayed her in the blink of an eye without even letting her explain? The pain eased away into nothing as she numbly stared into the fire, unpleasant memories from her first kill flooding back into her mind.

Muffled cries left Julie's lips as an unfamiliar man grabbed her by the back of her jacket as a hand cupped over her mouth. It had been a dare from Frank that lead them here, and now Julie was being held against her will by what seemed to be the janitor. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she struggled to get free from the man's grasp only to hear the man cry in pain as she was let go and met with cold tile to her face.

"We've got to kill him now—go on," Frank demands, Julie standing up to stare at the now bleeding man on the floor. Joey was the first to react, swiping the blade from Frank's bloodied hand and stabbing the cleaner in his ribs as he let out a pained whine. Joey gestured the knife to Susie, whom only shook her head. "I—I can't do it," She whispered, looking away from the knife and the body. Frank clenched his teeth, his voice raised as he spoke, "We've got to finish what we started, Susie! You can't pussy out now, it's too late."

Julie took the knife from Joey, closing her eyes and sliding the blade into the man's chest as he sobbed out once more—quietly this time. Susie, with eyes wide looked at Julie with scared eyes as Frank took her hands and stabbed the knife into the man's throat to end his suffering. Silence filled the small store as they sat there to admire or grimace, Frank barking orders as Julie and Susie mopped while Joey helped Frank with the body. Murder was never an easy task as they loaded the body into the back of Joey's truck, leaving the crime scene as if nothing ever happened.

Ever since that day, Julie was wasn't very keen of surprises—let alone being hugged or touched from behind or on her back.

Julie hadn't kept track of time, her eyes glistening with tears and reflecting the licking flames of the campfire. Her face had been wiped of all emotions, a hollow shell of a woman. Patting her dried tears from her face, her lips were drawn in a line as she stared blankly up at the sky. Her heart ached and pulsed in pain, having been betrayed by one of her own friends. "Julie?" The sweet southern accent made her internal pain ease—she decided that mute was the way to go, using her eye quite like her mouth was used.

Eyeing the singer, Kate flinched back—her face was blank but her eyes were a wreck of emotions. Sadness pitted with anger and despair pooled in her orbs as she turned away, having looked to long. "You're upset," Kate spoke, sitting close but not too close to Julie for a little comfort. Julie was still an unknown factor—she was never emotional during trials, and everyone acted different when expressing varying emotions. "I understand, Julie. I'm guessing one of your previous friends was in trial?" Kate gave a light frown as she saw Julie flinch—they must've done something to her to make her act this way.

"Anythin' I can do ta' help?" She asked sweetly again, pulling out her guitar to strum some type of ambience to ease the tension laying a blanket over the camp. Julie shook her head as Claudette came to sit next to Kate. "Is she okay?" Her soft sweet voice made Julie glance over at the chocolate colored girl, a sweet little smile painting her face as she waved to Julie. Fixing her glasses with a finger, Kate shook her head. "She's a bit upset so I'm tryin' ta' help," The singer explains as Claudette nods.

Gasping, Claudette disappears for a moment and returns with an object in her hands. Julie stiffened as an the object was placed on her head, a giggle escaping the botanist's lips. "You look adorable in a flower crown, sweetie," She spoke, Julie's fingers feeling up her hair to touch the weaved crown. A small little smile made Kate beam, holding out a hand for Julie to take. "You feel a little better? I want ya' ta' meet the others properly and stay for girl's night—you up for it?"

Feeling a little more confidence, Julie took the hand as both woman led her to a corner of the campsite.

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

Julie had lost count of the trials she went through, going up killers she remembered making friends with. She was sacrificed once or twice for being altruistic, but was still happy to play out of her comfort zone for a little while. Kate, Claudette and Nea became her temporary friends.

Alas, she was being taken back to murder once more.

The small group of girls had been chatting, making conversation about The Shape or Michael after a scare of him having Infinite Tier Three. Trials were done for the day and decided to do something fun as Claudette taught Julie how to weave crowns and Julie learned a couple more songs. When fog crept to Julie's leg, a sense of sadness fell over her. "It looks like it's my time," She announced, fixing her hoodie as they gave her a side hug. "Will you let us go when we see you again?" Nea asks jokingly, fixing the beanie atop her head as Julie laughed. "I'll think about it. I'll see you in trial!"

With glowing orange and black claws, The Entity dropped her back in Ormond—her home. The air was flooded with white, cold bliss spilling on her pale fingertips—how she missed home. Walking into the large resort, the crackling of the old fashioned oven/fireplace brought the only warmth they had in this cold land but she was used to it. Her mask in place over here face, she felt tears rushing down her eyes again—how would she be able to keep her composure now that her best friend had the audacity to kill her in cold blood? Had being around her that long not given her enough time to memorize her features?

Sitting on the couches around the fireplace sat Joey and Frank, whom now noticed their pale friend. "Julia?" Frank's warms voice made Julie break into a sob, throwing herself between both men and removing her mask to place on the table. Joey and Frank gave each other worried glances as her face dived for Joey's neck, sloppy wet tears dripping down his skin. Scooting closer, Frank and Joey comforted Julie as she wept and wept. Whispering words of comfort, her tears eventually ran dry as she grew tired, Joey holding her close as she cuddled him. Wiping her tears from her cheeks, she looked peacefully as she gave a broken kind of smile as she slept.

"She was gone for a full day and came back crying," Frank muttered to Joey as Julie sniffled in her sleep, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Susie said something about an imposter—you think it was Julie but Susie couldn't remember?" Joey asked as Frank shrugged, stroking her hair with cautious fingers. "Probably—you think Susie has Capgras? She knows Julie by her voice but she does tend to forget her face." Joey huffed, holding Julie as she whispered in her sleep.

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

When Julie awoke, her fingers brushed up against leather fabric and the smell of sandalwood filled her nose—she has been cuddling with Joey, hadn't she? "Morning, Sunshine," Joey's voice spoke from above her, legs sprawled and tangled together as she looked up at him. "Hey Joey," She smiled as he hummed, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she blushed. "How long was I out?" Julie asked as Joey flipped his wrist to look at his watch. "A good hour or so—you good?" He asked as she nodded, removing herself from his embrace.

Walking up the steps, Julie completely ignored the pink haired girl as she stopped at the door. Susie immediately went after her as she leaned against the railing, a regretful look on her face. "Julie?" Susie's voice came to her as no response was given a hefty sigh leaving her pink lips. "Julie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't believe you—you were suddenly gone and you didn't look like you to me." Susie explained, fingers twirling her thumbs as she went to speak again only to not have words. A twitch in Julie's eye made Susie flinch slightly, her sudden movements angered and serious.

"You're telling me in all the time that we've been friends, you forgot what I looked like?" Tears dripped down her cheeks as she spoke, fingers holding her arms as she shook. "You said you'd never hurt me, Susie. You broke your promise to me—our friendship promise! How am I supposed to believe you anymore? I even quivered when you touched my back! You know I hate it when people touch my back! Ever since that night, I can't be touched on the back. I thought you knew this, because i thought you knew me!" Sobs racked her frame as she finished venting, fingers covering her eyes as guilt washed over Susie.

Julie hadn't been this emotional in a very long time, anxiety of being judged always a thing to worry about in high school. Multiple steps hurried up the stairs as Susie hugged Julie gently, careful around her back. "I was an idiot, I didn't tell you guys I had Capgras Syndrome—I didn't think it would come back to haunt me. I'm sorry, Jules," Susie sniffled, pressing a friendly kiss to her cheeks as she stifled her sobs. Joey's chocolate hands cupped Julie's cheeks, Julie leaning into his warmth as Frank held her hands.

"I love you—all of you," Julie spoke, blinking away her tears and smiling warmly. Frank chuckled, pecking her lips. "Of course—we're The Legion, loving each other through and through. Isn't that right?" Joey and Susie hummed in agreement as she melted into their combined embraces.

Maybe that back thing didn't matter that much anymore...

[belzinone]

// @halforc-mercenary // cont. // ~<3

The night came early this evening and the nocturnal darkness washed over the sky like spilled ink, dyeing the clouds black and the canopy of leafs above into a deep azure that made the roof of leafs look like the water of a endless deep and endless old ocean that moved like waves in the soft breeze. It was a still evening, the only sounds were the soft breeze stroking through the trees leafs and the hollow clapping of Come-Heres and the Ponys hoofs on the uneven pebbled street that was more a road paved with thick, soft moss than stones. Mar sat slouched in the saddle, her back that was usually as straight as a saluting Soldiers was now round after hours spend in the saddle and in the late hours of the night her mind had started to wander away from viligantly watching the road to the longing for place to set up her camp, a fireplace to cook a porridge over and a good nap in a bed of blankets and furs.

It was this moment, when , out of the corner of her eyes,  she could see the orange light of a campfire shimmer through the wall of leafs like a wisp. From one moment to another the young woman sat up striaght in the saddle, one hand on the hilt of her sword and the other pulling at the reins of the pony to make them stop in their tracks. A few seconds passed in which Mar sat as tensed on the Pony as a drawn bow, her ears jolted upwards, her hand on the swordhilt, her eyes narrowed to the slits while the world around her drowned in the nocturnal darkness like in a fload of dark ink as the short moments passed by. She could ignore this fireplace, she could ignore this fireplace since it could mean that there was a enemy, she could ignore this fireplace since if there was a enemy she would need to fight and the day had been too long to fight now. On the other hand the one by this fireplace could also not be a enemy.

Mar flicked a freckled ear like an precarious cat would flick their tail. ”..I must be really desperate.”, the Halforc harrumphed eventually as she made her decision and jumped out of the saddle, grabbing the ponys reins and pulling them along with Come-Here towards the orange flicke rof fireshine between the dark treetrunks. Automaticallly the Halforc slowed down and started to sneak around the foreigners camp to spy out the stranger, her small feet barely making a sound on the soft forestground beneath as she slowly edged closer to the strangers camp. The fireshine was bright like molten gold against the blueish dyed foresground as Mar eventually stepped into view.

“..Greetings, Milady.”, the young woman stiffned like a soldier about to salute, although her voice was earnest still one of her small hands lay around the hilt of her sword, ready to clench to a fist and draw the weapon as she continued with the traditional words:  “If you offer me  hospitality and share your campfire, I will respect the guestright and share my food with you.”

Society didn’t always welcome her kind. Tieflings, always met with rancor, scrutiny, before even spared as much as a word. So she hid herself with her magic. To the common eye she’d appear to be just a traveling woman with the style of a bard yet the aura of a mage to be reckoned with. Her eyes were piercing but warmly bordered by feathery lashes and too soft an iris to be deemed menacing. Bel’d noticed the approaching half-orc from afar, rather, the trees told her. Nature spoke to her almost constantly, a pleasant prattle of their livelihood letting her know whenever the wind bent their stems, fluttered their leaves, or something animal did the same.

Had she been transparent of her true form, being come upon by a half-orc was arguably the best case scenario. She’d been told there was an underlying understanding between their tribes, veering further from more convincing humanoid characteristics than other races that halved their ancestry with the inhuman. Nonetheless... deep down, she knew better than to give the benefit of the doubt. People were quicker to curse her than they were to snap their other judgements. Her invisible demonoid tail retracted further into her garments.

“ To you as well, my dear, “ she called softly to her visitor from behind a performer’s shroud, “ I wouldn’t dare cross you. You can rest easy. “ Though she knew any prudent warrior would lower their guard only at their own discretion, she made a point to make herself appear as nonthreatening as possible (not to mention that her strength was in the feint.) “ The road has been pretty lonely... I’d appreciate your company. “ Almost soundlessly and without a twitch of a single muscle, a sturdy log floated from the forest and was set beside her. A blanket from her person followed and draped over the bark, making as welcoming a seat as she could fashion at the moment.

“ What tea do you prefer, love? “ she asked, calling her personal blends from the array of herbs she kept in one of her horse’s saddlebags, “ I don’t usually part with my favorites, but it seems like you have quite the catch there and it’d be more than rude of me not to share my best stock as well. “ Bel didn’t feel like she had to hide the fact that she was magically inclined. It was a simple skill many people shared with her, but it still gave no indication of what her true calling was as the small samples of nature hovered between Mar and the light of the fire, rotating dutifully like a space rack to present their options.

Bel then removed her mask and hood, revealing the humanoid level of self she was comfortable enough to communicate with. “ My mother gave me the name Isabella, but I prefer Bel. Would you grace me with your name? “ She honed her ability to manipulate her aura almost naturally, as masking the characteristic deviousness of a hell-borne spawn took a very conscious effort. Upon first meeting people, however, she took extra care to settle the air, all too eager to burn in her presence.

[lokis-lady-death]

Return to Crimson Peak

Disclaimer: This story is written as a sequal to Crimson Peak. If you couldn’t handle the original story, please don’t read, because that would be dumb. 

Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Mini Series Halloween (Special thanks to @bambamwolf87 for going back and forth on this idea!) 

My name is (y/n), and I would like to tell you a story.

A love story. Filled with hate. Filled with sin. Something real and imaginary, exciting and terrifying.

I want to tell you a ghost story.

There were all kinds of ghost stories that have floated through the world, like a dense fog, capturing the imaginations of those who hear them. Some based as far back as when nobility and class were all anyone cared about, some as notorious as Jack the Ripper, some as tragic as children getting taken by monsters. Each story holds some truths, based on some sort of factual event that forever concretes the illusion of a ghost to the world of the living. Alas, they all inevitably fade away. They become fables we tell children, destined to be nothing more than boy scout campfire tales.

Utter nonsense really.

But then, every once in a while, against all reasonable belief, there is a ghost story so rifeting, so heart wrenching -so full of lust, ambition, and murder- that at the end it leaves one questioning their sanity.

Crimson peak is one of those ghost stories.

The first time my brother Luke and I heard the story of Crimson Peak was from our grandmother. I remember visiting the family home in Buffalo, New York, listening to her spin fantisful tales of this or that while pouring me tea. Grandmother was a wonderful storyteller, a trait I was told she inherited from her own mother, Edith McMichael. Better known by her maiden name, Edith Cushings.

She told us that Edith had grown up a beautiful, well educated woman of the upper society of New York. An unwed heiress that only cared about one thing: writing stories. That is, until her own story had an unexpected character added to the plot. Thomas Sharpe.

From there, everyone knows the story, most likely even read the book.

But this story became something more to my brother. He wanted more than the book. He wanted the experience.

He wanted to see and live it for himself.

As he grew older, he researched more into the story and found the home in which everything took place: Allerdale Hall. As it turned out, the gothic mansion had been made over to be a secluded, lavish hotel for rich bureaucrats traveling the English countryside in the 50’s, however in the 80’s the attention died down. It went a long time without use until 2010 when a new owner took over and turned it into a Victorian Bed and Breakfast with a twist: while it’s 50’s counterpart tried to pretend nothing awful happened in that house, the new owner exploited it. There was even an episode of Ghost Hunter filmed where someone stayed the night in the bed and breakfast. They stayed in Lucille’s room but never saw her ghost. He did say the new owner and her husband were rather odd, though he thought they were just trying to give into the haunted theme they tried to portray.

It was disheartening to say the least that other than the story of Crimson Peak itself, it seemed like there was no actual haunting. I eventually lost interest and moved on with my life, diving into school and social life. But not Luke. He still felt drawn to the story and after working doubles for two months and convincing me to split the fees, we were set to travel to England and actually stay the night in Allerdale Hall.

Which is where my story begins.

*****

“This is it!” Luke exclaimed, heaving one bag onto his shoulder and another under his arm. “Crimson Peak!”

I cut my eyes at my brother, almost annoyed at the whole situation. His Ghosts are Real shirt, his bag of ghost summonings, our grandmother’s copy of Crimson Peak all in hand so as to crescent it with what he deems the unholy land. “I can’t believe you talked me into this…”

His blonde curls bounced as he turned to face our home for the next few days. “But… Just look at it, y/n....”

Turning up from the cab, I took in the entirety of Allerdale Hall. Grand, magnificent, dark, and foreboding, it stood against a gray canvas of fog. In front of it, the key part of the entire story, Sir Thomas Sharpe’s mining invention.

My eyes followed upward the structure, absorbing every last archway and stone of the complex before resting on a single window where I caught sight of a pale faced man.

I was snapped back to my brother when he called my name for what I had to assume by his aggravated tone was not the first time. “What?”

“I said grab your shit, I ain’t no packmule.”

I grabbed my bags and followed him through the double doors.

Inside, it was evident all the work the new owners had put into the mansion. It was extravagant but dark, framed perfectly with a massive wooden staircase that opened all the way to the other floors, victorian era artwork lining every inch of wall space, and a single grand crystal chandelier shining over the foyer.

“Welcome!” called out a british accent. A pink haired woman popped up from behind the registry desk with a gleaming, misplaced smile. “I’m the owner, I go by Rain. You must be the Cushings!”

As if the overtly brightness of her hair was too much for the gothic mansion, she countered with a steampunk style victorian dress of silk, leather metal loops and chains that dangled from her sleeves and a leather corset hugging at her waist.

“Actually, that’s not our name…” I corrected while Luke simply began signing the guest book.

“But you ARE descendants of Edith Cushing, right?” she pushed.

“I… Yes, we are. How did you...?”

“I found you on Ancestry.com! I have been a huge fan of your great, great grandmother for a long time! I saved up for years to buy this place,” the owner said as she looked around the empty lobby with a since of overbuilt romanticism. “Crimson Peak has always been a passion of mine.”

“You two should get along swell then,” I mumbled as Luke laid down the pen. “Now, about our rooms….”

“OH yes!” she exclaimed while pulling out two skeleton keys, handing you each one. “You will be in the west wing, Lucille’s old room,” the owner told Luke. “And you,” she said with a sideways grin, “You’ll be down the hall in Sir Thomas’s room.”

I took the key and stared at it, feeling my heart start to race. “I....”

“Excellent!” my brother cut me off, taking the sets of keys. “Are we allowed to explore some?”

There was some mischief behind the owner’s eyes when she answered, “Its actually encouraged.”

While Luke looked more than please, I had to stop and ask, “Won’t that be disruptive to your other customers?”

“Judging by the guest book, we’re the only ones staying here.”

“Correct! We normally slow down on visitors during the colder months. Which is a shame, because that’s when things always get fun around here.” Rain cut me a wink before finishing, “Now, enjoy!”

Luke’s hand grabbed hold of my shoulder to steer me away from the desk. “Yes, we will, thank you, Ms. Rain!” Just passed her I could make out another grand room with a marble fireplace and piano.

“That’s where Lucille used to play music for her brother,” Luke told like an extremely zealous curator at a museum. I wrinkled my nose, remembering that detail from the book. “Come on, let’s go find our rooms!”

At the base of the stairs was a framed layout of the house to help guests find their way around. A large YOU ARE HERE arrow laid out where you began. Luke’s finger followed the line up to the right and down a hall to West Wing where the two of you would be staying.

Luke held out my key before flashing me one of his overly excited grins, he spat out, “Race ya!”

Before I could argue how rude, childish, and annoying he was being, Luke was off. Never one to be outdone, I bolted up behind him, hoping I remembered the layout. By the time I got to the top of the stairwell, I saw my brother’s sneakers right before they disappeared down a hall. When I got to the opening of the hall, I turned and saw no one. Taking a few steps forward, I listened intently to try and pinpoint where my brother had gone.

But nothing.

“Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath. Giving up on the race, I let out an exasperated sigh and wandered deeper in to the house.

‘Do I turn here?’ I asked myself when I found another hall off the main one. I still didn’t see Luke, so I called out for him but I got no answer.

A round window at the other end of the stretch was all that illuminated my path, casting shadows from the intricate woodwork of the moldings and ceiling.

I was distracted when I heard a soft disruption in all the stillness of the house. I stopped and listened. Someone was moving around in one of the rooms, but which one, I wondered. Following the sound, I came to the end of the hall. A light on the other side was so bright that it boiled through the small gap where the door met the floor. Some more ruffling from the other side confirmed I was at the right room, I could even see shadows move through the light.

“Luke, is this your room?” I asked, going to turn the knob. But it was locked.

“No?” I jumped when I unexpectedly heard his voice from the other end of the hall, where I had just come from. “What are you doing down here?” he asked, “We’re this way.”

“I heard someone, I thought it was you...” I turned back, eying the floor where the light shone through. But there was none now. No light. No movement. Just stillness.

“Oh…” I swallowed but shook my head, knowing it had to be my own imagination getting the better of me.

“You’re already getting haunted?” Luke asked with a hint of jealousy.

“No, you idiot, this stupid house just has me on edge is all.” I grabbed up my bags and eyed him. “Now show me where our rooms are so I can sleep off this jet lag!”

Back down the main hall, he showed me where a set of double doors led down a private wing. The West Wing.

“Here’s your room,” Luke said, taking my key to open it. “My room is the last one on the left.”

The door creaked so horribly it felt like it echoed through the whole mansion.

It did not disappoint. The room, like everything else in the house, was massive, the walls solid wood carved and etched with such fine, minute detail it felt like a painting. The ceiling had golden loops around where two chandeliers hung on either side of the massive four poster bed that sat opposite of a fireplace.

“Holy shit…. Maybe this won’t be so bad, “ I reasoned as I pulled out my phone to text my friends back in the US.

Luke’s voice cracked as he watched, knowing what you must be doing. “Actually, I had one thing I had to tell you, and don’t freak....”

“I HAVE NO SIGNAL?” I raged as my eyes narrowed at him. His hands were up in defense, waiting for the slew of slaps he deserved, but I just let it go. “Fine. Ok. Whatever. Have you found the WiFi password?”

“Actually, about that…”

“Luke…”

“It’s good to take a break from modern advances now and then, y/n, you know it’s healthy…”

“Luke.” I stopped him, staring deep into his soul. “Are you telling me you brought me to the middle of nowhere England, to a haunted house, with no working means to contact the outside world?”

“It’s only for a few days…”

“LUKE, I WILL MuRdEr YOU! You will no longer be looking for a ghost because YOU WILL BE A GHOST!” My hands went flying and all he could do was protect his face.

“Come on, y/n. Don’t be so melodramatic,” he said before stepping out of your doorway. “Take it as an opportunity to get to know yourself. That’s why I told you to bring books.”

The realization that he had known the whole time we would be without technology was even more infuriating, so I started chunking pillows from the bed at him until he closed the door

I threw myself onto the bed and screamed into the comforter.

How was I going to stay sane without the internet for three days?

Sitting back up, I couldn't help but reassess my situation.

I'm stuck.

In a haunted house.

For three days.

A strange sensation washed over me, like the sudden chill of someone walking over your grave.

The house, I realized, was quiet. So quiet. Not another soul to be heard.

That was the first time I noticed that I had been hearing a steady movement the entire time I was alone and hadn't paid it any attention until now. When it stopped.

What had stopped moving?

I stayed still and listened for it to start again.

But it didn't.

Wondering why I had unnecessarily scared myself, I shook my head clear of the thought while opening up one of my bags.

My first bag was my safety net.

Junk food (because I’m shameless), sodas (because I’m shameless), and romance novels (because, you guessed it).

I opened the music on my phone and pulled out my thirstiest book.

Chapter One: How They Met

About twenty minutes into my story, the music was interrupted by a tap on the door. One solid knock. Of course I jumped, anyone would have. Then I heard some shuffling as an envelope flew under my door.  

I instantly sprang from my seat- curiosity always being both my best and worst quality- and tore the letter open.

~~We would like to cordially invite you to dinner in the Main Dining Hall this evening at 6pm. PS On the back of the door, you will find attire for the event.~~

Of course my first thought was what a gimmick to pull, but then I had to appreciate their creativity. The place wanted to bring out the Gothic Romance of  Allerdale Hall, and it certainly didn’t hold back. Opening the door to find a white silk dress, I saw the depth of that devotion.

I pulled the dress down when I heard Luke’s door open. “Holy shit!” he cussed. I went down the hall to find him awing at a suit hanging from his door. “Y/n!” he squealed through his teeth, “Holy shit!”

I laughed but really, I was excited.

A dressed up dinner in a haunted mansion. Through all the cliche, through all the irritants, I thought maybe this could turn out to be a fun get away.

After all...

What was the harm in playing along?

Part 2 is up!

The role of Luke will be played by Evan Peters:

Like my garbage? Read more of it! Master List

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[ehrinrae]

Stay

The day began like any other for the little pink-haired Miqo'te girl. Maybe 6 years of age, the young girl’s life was ruled by simple desires. Sleep, food, play. Well rested and well fed thanks to her mother, E'rin was ready to get to playing!

She left her home and began to wander around the village. She loved taking in the sights, sounds, and myriad of other sensations. The warm morning air was like a pleasant embrace, welcoming her into the new day. Not too hot nor too cold thanks to the light breeze and the warm sunshine beaming down from the clear skies. The scent of smokey fish wafting across the village was a sign to all that the previous night’s fishing had been a success.

The noise of her people going about their business all around her offered her some comfort. She felt a part of something larger, even if she was typically consigned to the periphery of their little community. The people were conversing and laughing, enjoying life and readying for another day of sailing, fishing, hunting, net-weaving, and cooking. E'rin walked in her own little world, somewhat blissfully unaware of the things people were saying as she passed. While she knew they were talking, she couldn’t much make sense of the words. In those situations her disability was a blessing in disguise.

E'rin walked with a skip in her step. She loved the feel of the soft, warm dirt beneath her bare feet on these warm days. Pausing when she finally encountered some other girls her age, she kept her distance to figure out what they were playing. She quickly identified it as a game called Limsa Lominsa. Often played in the water, it worked similarly on land. One girl would have her eyes closed and call out “Limsa!” and the other girls would cry “Lominsa!” in response as they walked around as quietly as they could. The goal of the game was for the girl with her eyes shut to find and tag the girls moving around and replying. Running was strictly against the rules.

E'rin approached with a smile, waving to the other girls. It took a moment for them to even notice her, but when they did the game came to rapid a stop.

One girl stepped out in front of the others, crossing her arms and already looking irritated by the mute’s presence. “What do you want?” She asked impatiently.

E'rin squinted as she focused on making sense of the words. She bit her lip a moment, then smiled. She pointed to herself, then motioned to the rest of them.

“You want to play with us?” The girl asked, lofting a rather suspicious brow.

E'rin nodded in return happily, her wavy pink hair bouncing from the enthusiastic execution of the gesture.

The girl’s face scrunched up with disgust. “Ew, no. Why would we want to play with you? You can’t play with us. You’d be cheating.” She said sharply, turning her nose up at E'rin.

Another girl chimed in. “My momma says we aren’t supposed to talk to half-breeds. She says you’re bad for the tribe.”

E'rin’s ears wilted. ‘Bad?’ She thought to herself. She couldn’t understand what she’d done wrong. Being dismissed off-hand for her disability cut her deeper than she let on. She inhaled a sharp breath, trying to figure out how to communicate to the other girl. She whistled and pointed to her lips. She could respond like that! Surely they’d see she could play, right?

“Listen, weirdo, we don’t want you here. Leave us alone!” The final girl snapped. “We’re sick of you always interrupting our games. Just -go away- and disappear!”

The yelling got the attention of a nearby mother, who came rushing over. She asked something to her daughter, but E'rin couldn’t make it out from behind the woman.

There was a brief exchange between mother and daughter. The mother then turned, anger playing upon her visage, twisting it into a scary mask. She started yelling at E'rin, who began to tear up from the scolding.

E'rin couldn’t understand why this was happening. What had she done wrong? Why were they angry at her?

To make matters worse, another mother joined in. After a brief exchange with the already angry mother, she too began to speak loudly and angrily. E'rin couldn’t make out anything with her vision blurring from tears.

One of the women seemed to get even more frustrated by the frozen stare of E'rin. She grabbed E'rin’s wrist tight, still scolding her.

E'rin tried to pull away or pry the grip off her arm. Panic built as she was unable to free herself until finally she just bit the woman’s arm. The woman released her, bleeding from E'rin’s little fangs breaking the skin. She responded by smacking the girl across the face and yelling some more! E'rin’s little heart was pounding in her ears as she lay in the dirt, holding her reddening cheek.

Before the woman could cause any further harm, however, she was suddenly blocked by E'rin’s mother. The seeker woman put herself between the angered villagers and her daughter. She yelled back to the other woman, shoving her away. Angered pointing was leveled at E'rin by the other girl’s mother.

E'rin got to her feet, hiding behind her mother’s leg. Despite her tension and angered tone, E'rin’s mother gently ruffled E'rin’s hair. She then picked the girl up and carried her back home. A dirt clod smacked against E'rin’s mother’s back, but she ignored the indignity for the sake of E'rin and carried on. She headed straight for home, closing the door to their small house behind them.

E'rin was set down on her feet and her mother knelt down in front of her. E'rin’s mother held E'rin’s shoulders, looking her over. She then looked E'rin in the eyes, speaking slowly. “Are you okay, honey? Did she hurt you?”

E'rin nodded, showing her reddened wrist and cheek. Her mother hugged her close, rubbing her back. She held that embrace for a few moments before pulling back and speaking slowly again. “You’re okay, honey… you were very brave…” She said, looking a bit shaken herself. “How about we make you some sweet stickybuns? I know how much you love them, my little cherry blossom.”

E'rin nodded, sniffling and wiping away her tears with her sleeve. Her mother ruffled her hair again and headed to the kitchen to start preparing. She stopped at the sink when she thought E'rin wasn’t looking, hanging her head and sniffling. She quickly composed herself, wiping away her tears, putting on a brave face for her daughter.

The rest of E'rin’s day was spent indoors, drawing, playing with simplistic toys, listening to her mother tell her stories, and cooking their favourite dishes together. Eventually E'rin began to tire, curling up on the soft fur rug by the fireplace and drifting off to sleep. The day had been rough, and they had seemed to be getting progressively worse the older E'rin got. This concerning trend had not gone unnoticed by E'rin’s exasperated and stressed mother.

She’d been spurned and shunned because of her perceived “indiscretion” of loving someone from out of the tribe. Her daughter had been kept at arm’s length and viewed as an “other”. Many of the tribe’s members had little patience for her inability to speak, her difficulty understanding people, and most of all… her mixed blood. E'rin could do no right in their eyes.

No action is without its repercussions, and E'rin’s mother’s defense earlier was no exception to the rule. Her mother had been gently stroking the girl’s hair, humming softly to her daughter. E'rin had always found great solace in music. But all at once the soothing melody was shattered by the syncopated staccato of knuckles rapping on wood. Angry, sharp, and expectant, the knocking was not one of a friend.

Orange firelight flickered outside the window, casting sinister shadows across the inside of the home. The night’s mist scattered the light, causing the air outside of the home to glow as if the very world around them were burning. E'rin’s mother gently moved away from the pink-haired girl by the fireplace, telling her to stay put. She then grabbed a knife from the kitchen and made her way to the door. When it opened, E'rin could see a group of angry villagers outside the door. The smell of smoke and pitch crept through the house, reaching E'rin and causing a sudden tightness in her chest.

E'rin wasn’t sure why she felt so much fear in that moment, but she knew she didn’t like what was happening. With knife clutched behind her back, E'rin’s mother calmly spoke to the angry and armed people at the threshold of their sanctuary. It was a tense conversation, E'rin had never seen her mom’s features so distorted by worry and fear. The brandishing of her knife stopped one attempt at entry. No blood was drawn, but the implications were made clear. Enter and die. From that point on the situation seemed to steadily deescalate.

The villagers mercifully dispersed and E'rin’s mom closed the door once more, locking the latch. She put her back against the door and sank down into a sitting position, breaking down into tears. She looked to E'rin, the tears rolling down her cheeks. E'rin too was crying, though she knew not why. Her mother moved over to her and embraced her precious pink gift of a daughter. She rocked E'rin back and forth, softly and shakily singing between saying “I love you.”

Eventually she took E'rin into her bedroom, lighting a fire in there and curling up with her daughter. E'rin drifted off, but her mother remained awake… gently stroking E'rin’s hair and holding her so close it was as if she feared E'rin might be taken from her the moment she stopped. She did not sleep that night. Instead E'rin’s mother stared at her daughter as she slumbered, quietly sobbing. She knew what needed to be done… and she’d never dreaded anything more than she did in that moment.

When E'rin awoke again, she was vaguely aware that she was moving. She looked around with half-lidded eyes, scarcely awake. The light was scant and scattered, the sun itself hadn’t even woken yet. The most striking thing to her was the smoke of a nearly dead campfire mixing in with the white morning mist… as if the fire had brought the fog. She looked up at her mother, smiling up at her.

Her mother looked down at her, smiling in return. That smile was off, however. E'rin hadn’t seen such a melancholy smile before. “Hey there, my little cherry blossom… go back to sleep. Everything is okay… momma’s got you.” She said in a shaky and forlorn tone, leaning down to nuzzle her nose against E'rin’s. The young half-blood’s eyes drifted shut once more at her mother’s urging. She leaned her head against her mother’s chest and once more drifted into a peaceful slumber.

When E'rin woke again, she was immediately aware that something had changed. The soundscape that she’d grown accustomed to was far more chaotic. Voices all around her, like white noise. The seabirds made an abrasive din as they greedily fought over the scraps the fish markets threw out. The sounds of ships’ bells ringing, sails flapping, water gently lapping at stone, and the sound of music somewhere in the distance.

E'rin opened her deep ocean azure eyes to survey her surroundings. The weather was not improved. Instead of the warm air of home, the sea breeze and marine layer was thick. A rainy fog had taken hold. She became aware of the fact that she was still in her mother’s arms. Looking around she didn’t see her small village, but instead she was looking up at the towering spires of Limsa Lominsa. She blinked a few times in confusion, looking to her mother.

Her mother seemed to be focused on getting somewhere specific. She wove in through the back streets down to a lower part of the decks that took the place of streets in Limsa’s water level housing. One particular dwelling was revealed to be their destination. A home with two levels… fairly large and partially carved into the very stone foundations of Limsa. Its front porch and sidewalk were naught but planks of wood.  Stone alleyways wove around the buildings, transitioning from dock to stone and back again seemingly at random. There was a bell outside of the building and a sign that neither of the Miqo'te could read… a schoolhouse.

E'rin’s mother gently sets E'rin down, making sure the girl was standing steadily. E'rin’s mother knelt down, tears welling up in her eyes as she looked over the pink-haired girl. She pulled E'rin into a tight hug, kissing the top of her head. She broke the hug and looks E'rin in the eyes, gently moving the girl’s chin with her index finger to make sure she was seen.

E'rin’s mother spoke slowly and clearly as she could with a shaky voice. “I love you, E'rin. Always. Never let anyone tell you you’re less than them, okay? I know you’re a bright girl in there… and I hope some day I get to meet the real you.” She pulled E'rin into a tight hug, clinging to the girl as if she never wanted to let go. The rain fell right along with the tears of a grieving mother. E'rin didn’t yet grasp what was causing her mother such pain… but she felt anxiety once again gripping her chest.

E'rin’s mother released her. She turned and started walking away from E'rin and towards the crowd. E'rin started to follow, but slowed as her mother turned around. She spoke one word forcefully and sharply. “Stay.” E'rin stopped on the spot, hugging herself.

Her mother’s expression softened and she gave a reassuring smile, even as her tears rolled down her cheeks. “Wait for me here… okay?”

E'rin gave a timid nod in reply, chewing on the corner of her lip anxiously.

“That’s a good girl…” With that, her mother turned and walked off into the fog-obscured crowd. E'rin lost sight of her as she simply faded away into the white noise and haze. Tears fell down her cheeks now as she stood there. Scared, lost, and now totally alone. E'rin wanted to cry out for her mother, she wanted to bring her mother back, but she couldn’t. All she could do was wait for her mother to come back.. and wait she did.

E'rin waited for many bells, but no sign of her mother. She’d gotten frightened by thunder at one point and ducked into an alleyway. She remained there as the rains fell. Her first night was sheer terror. She cowered in a corner, shivering and cold. The break of day left her hungry and still alone.

Bells had turned into suns. E'rin began to scavenge for food and collect rainwater to drink. She’d made a basic shelter in her alleyway with scraps of sailcloth and discarded timber. Suns turned into weeks, and E'rin’s health had began to suffer. She was thin and pale. The warm weather had faded into a cold and rainy Autumn as weeks became moons.

Her decline had worsened by the time she was found by Evelyn, a midlander teacher for the school. It was the coughing that gave E'rin away. Evelyn decided to inspect the sound and discovered the sickly Miqo'te. She frowned and approached with a thermos of tea and a half of a sandwich. She offered up the sandwich to E'rin, who seemed to be less than friendly. She hissed at Evelyn as she neared. Evelyn decided to push the issue and got closer still. E'rin lashed out, biting the woman.

Evelyn let out a yelp and yanked back her hand. She exhaled a sigh and shook her head. She left for the time being, muttering to herself. “I need to find a way to build trust…”

Sure enough, the woman came back with food again. This time it was in a bag and set a distance away. E'rin very timidly moved out to get it, skittish as could be. This became commonplace over the next few suns. Set out a meal and let E'rin get it on her own terms. Evelyn got steadily closer each time until one time E'rin didn’t come out of her shelter. Instead of shuffling around, Evelyn heard only very severe coughing fits.

Evelyn pulled back the sailcloth to get a look at E'rin and gasped at the sorry state of the girl. She reached down scoop up the malnourished girl, cradling her carefully. E'rin made some small protest, but overall seemed far too weak to truly fight.

“Hello there, little one… I am Evelyn… don’t worry, you’re safe. What’s your name, hon? Where are your parents? Why are you all alone?” Evelyn asked, only half-expecting any answer at this point. She took E'rin inside and out of the rain. A quick warm bath to get E'rin’s temperature up and wash off the street grime, a change of clothes, a warm blanket, a cup of hot coco, and a fireplace with a fluffy rug. E'rin felt the first taste of home she’d had in moons. Evelyn then contacted a mender to come see to E'rin.

That sun marked a turning point for E'rin. The mender came and put E'rin on the path to recovery. Suns and weeks of getting E'rin fed, healthy, and much happier. They began to form a bond and the sense of trust deepened. Evelyn continued to ask questions throughout this time. Most of them E'rin couldn’t answer, but eventually she asked one of the few E'rin could.

A snap of the fingers heralded the arrival of another question. “I’ve asked so much about you, but never asked if you could speak… so… can you?” Evelyn asked in a cheerful tone.

E'rin shook her head, ears wilting.

Evelyn smiled. “Well… don’t worry about that. We’ll teach you other ways to talk. Now, I do have one more question for you though…”

E'rin perked up at that, clearly interested now.

Evelyn’s smile only grew as she took E'rin’s hands. “Will you stay?”

[theshatteredrose]

What are some potential cute facts about these boys? What are some nicknames between them?

Oooh boy, you’ve open a Pandora’s box now~ Going to be under read more because holy shit is this thing LONG. I mean, even I’m surprised by it all. Good god, there’s 9 pages worth of info here. I’m not exaggerating D: It just kept coming. And there is a lot I haven’t divulged because of fanfic reasons. Christ…

So, anyway, without giving away too many potential spoilers, here we go~

Drayce;

Thinks of everyone else first, so doesn’t understand (or sometimes even acknowledge) when someone tries to care for him or flirt with him with romantic intentions. The former he is gets better at, understanding that people want to help him the same way he helps others

The latter is still foreign to him (Zohar eventually wins him over though~)

He makes nicknames/titles up for nearly every one of his guild. Regardless if they ask him to or not

He loves all animals and loves eating any kind of food, so often visits Ramus to let him cook something for him because he knows how much the prince enjoys it.

Enjoys talking about legends regarding treasures

He cares so much for others that he often does things on his own (such as tracking down a treasure) if he thinks they have better things to do or the situation could prove too dangerous

He gets annoyed at others if they try to do things on their own though

He first doesn’t remember his twin brother because of a spell used on him :( but he feels in his heart that something is missing

He is often referred to as “Dray”

Blayke;

Tries to act cool, calm, and collected, but is a wild boy at heart and while he scolds Drayce for his seemingly recklessness, he is right there beside him through it all

Has a bit of a short temper but he doesn’t rage at anyone. He makes sure not to say things to hurt anyone’s feelings.Drayce’s best friend, not-blood-related brother. They’ve been friends since 12 years old

He gets called “Blaykie” by Drayce, usually when they’re arguing and Drayce is winning. Annoyingly to him, Drayce wins their arguments a lot…

Has a soft spot for anything feline, so Koyla’s ears are just too darn cute sometimes…

Has a weak stomach when it comes to matters of carving up meat

Adores his sleep and will get pissy if his sleep is disrupted

Ashton;

Claims to be a scholar who works with Drayce’s dad (who is the older dragoon and a treasure hunter too) but has secrets regarding protecting Drayce from certain…potential antagonists.

He acts as the house-keep of the guildhouse Drayce inherits, and the one who issues out the quests to the guild.

He knows more about Drayce than Drayce does about himself

He cares greatly for others and has the innate ability to know if they will be able to handle a quest or not.

He is first friends with Shashi but soon develops romantic feelings for him

His nickname is “Ash”.

Runihura;

Tries to act like a cold, cool reaper, but is really a softy and hates hurting people

Though his memories of his past is foggy to him, he’s well emotionally balanced and doesn’t seemed all that phased by his lack of memories

He does get weepy though if he thinks he hurt someone with his oversized scythe

He’s a sensitive soul, really, and a sweet boy. He initially didn’t want to be a reaper, but stuck with it because he was proven useful to Drayce and the others

Thinks the golems of the first stratum are adorable and he wants one

Favourite food is moon apples, so he was willing to fight that monkey to get to his precious moon apples

He is the one who caught all the chickens and glad took home one as a pet. He calls it Sassy as he is adamant the hen has a feisty personality

His nickname is “Runi”

Salim;

Feisty, energetic, and far too eager to launch into a fight. All Drayce needs to do is to point at the target he wants Salim to fight and he heads off without question

Will fight anything if necessary to protect his guild. And because he loves a good wrestle

Best friends with and protective of Tokala and knows his hidden secret/class :3c

Only eats meat. He has to be held down and forced to eat anything that doesn’t contain meat. Even if it’s the only thing left, he’d rather starve!

Hates wraiths and graveyards, so the third stratum is his worst nightmare

He screams bloody murder when scared and loves manically when excited in battle

Doesn’t get the whole ‘romantic date’ thing. Chemistry? Attraction? Dating? Bah! Friendliness and comfort because ‘chemistry’

Drayce often refers to him as “Sal” and Tokala endearingly calls him “Sally”

Faelen;

The youngest of the guild and the most naïve. He wants to be a big explorer/adventurer, but he’s a little too naïve

Loves going on adventures but feels guilt-ridden should anyone get hurt while they are adventuring with him

Everyone is protective of him and won’t let him see anything devastating or heart wrenching

His pet wolf is called Makya and likes to curl up on the floor in front of the fireplace with his wolf and sleep

Doesn’t like the dark and will sit close to the campfire should he be camping in the labyrinth overnight. He’ll also huddle/cuddle with others if he’s nervous or uneasy. He does this subconsciously, though

Sees Drayce as an older brother and wants to help him with his treasure hunting quest

His nickname is “Fae”

Caelem;

Tries to act grumpy, but he’s a good, valiant boy who is eager to help others

Expert hunter, he also doesn’t know his own strength and often picks people up without a second thought

Has sensitive hearing, which is handy in the labyrinth unless there is a high-pitched or other loud sound that renders him withering in pain. Also bad when he happens to overhear something he shouldn’t

Adores attention and affection. He’s a cuddlier alright and loves having his ears scratched. He gets jealous of Blayke’s attention to Koyla’s ears

Loukas likes his ears though. And he gives him good head pats

He often cuddles with Kamali, especially if there is a storm as he doesn’t like storms

His nickname is “Cael” or “Callie”

Tokala;

He is Salim’s dedicated cheerleader, more than happy to cheer for him on the sidelines

He prefers cooking over fighting, so gets along great with Ramus. He also knows all of Salim’s favourite foods~

Super sensitive sense of smell. Good for finding food, bad if there is an overly pungent smell that can render him ill and in pain

Actually has the knowledge of a powerful treasure’s location, but because of “Certain Reasons” he can’t tell Drayce. Not yet~

He’s a hugger – he will jump on someone’s back and hug them around the neck. First this was startling, but everyone quickly got used to it.

His favourite person to hug, though, is Salim. And he loves it when Salim actually picks him up and sit him on his arm

He and Salim will eventual become a couple, but they are very innocent and affectionate~

His nickname is “Kala”

Kyrell;

Can sleep literally anywhere. All but standing on his feet. All he needs to do is find a place to sit down and can be out like a light in a matter of seconds. Much to the envy of his guildmates

Can talk to the dead, which is unsurprising :p But he finds them super chatty, so blocks them out most of the time

Has three wraiths he can call upon, but the one simply called Crow is one wraith that is with him constantly

Tends to have “selective hearing”, meaning he only listens when he’s interested. Crow pecks at him if he’s not paying attention

He’s looking for someone who is dear to him (spoiler – it’s Rhain, Drayce’s twin brother~)

His initiation into necromancy was violent, but Rhain had given him a reason to live (and he has a partnership with Crow)

He has a darkly humorous side and isn’t above using his wraiths to frighten the shit out of someone should they disrespect him or his guild

Nickname is simply “Ky”

Kamali;

Because of an overwhelming psychic ability forced upon him at birth, he is skittish, meek, and vulnerable

He constantly seeks refuge in the peaceful and kind auras of his guildmates, so he often sneaks into bed with them to find peace and comfort. Though surprising at first, the others have gotten used to it

Thunderstorms unnerve him with all the extra electricity and such in the air, so he hides with Caelem whenever there is a storm

Has a close friendship with Loukas who is helping him with his psychic abilities

He is Shashi’s younger brother who is also helping him with his above average psychic skills

He doesn’t have a name for his abilities – it’s a mixture of things that leave him confused and often times overwhelmed to the point of fainting. He’s trying to reign them in, though, as he wants to be helpful and useful

He is another person the guild is greatly protective of

His nickname is “Kam” or “Kammy”

Shashi;

His full name is Shashikiran but he prefers Shashi (which is a good thing as Drayce can’t properly pronounce his full name anyway)

Kamali’s older brother and very protective of him, though also encouraging. He wants Kamali to enter the labyrinth as he knows it will help him in the long-run. That’s not to say he’s not tagging behind to make sure he’s ok~

Is able to read ancient literature and has powerful mana detecting abilities. His room/residence is filled with ancient scrolls and books – like a mini maze of sorts. Others get lost, but he finds everything he needs/wants without trouble

Though he has trouble understanding Earthlain procedures and beliefs. Doesn’t comprehend why the number of cycles he has done around the sun is of any relevance to anyone

Because of that he will ask sometimes embarrassing or thought-provoking questions out of the blue or at times where he really shouldn’t. Questions involving questioning the norms of human nature or why a person would act the way they do even if it’s detrimental to them

Interested greatly in spells and alchemy

He is first drawn to Ashton because of his energy and aura, but as he spends time with him and come to understand him, he feels a soul attraction with him, one he doesn’t fight~

Other than Shashi, he also gets called “Shasha” from time to time

Fiorello;

He’s older than he looks. Appears young and adorable, but is secretly manipulative and has a sharp wit

He is overly protective of his guild and guildmates, more than willing to fake cry in public to get himself or his guild out of trouble. Poisoning others isn’t beneath him at all :D

Wasn’t initially looking to join a guild, but after encountering Drayce and seeing that he genuinely needed him for his healing knowledge rather than his cuteness, he joined the guild

Likes being carried around on his guildmates shoulders, but only his guildmates are allowed to do that. Anyone else will be poisoned

And he’ll cut anyone who makes fun of his height

He’s still a dedicated healer, though, and quite knowledgeable with materials from the labyrinths. He won’t test new medicines on his guildmates though. That’s what the general public is for

He’s honestly a sweet, adorable brounii. Just to certain people~

Nickname is either “Fio” or “Rello”

Chandra;

His full name is Chandrashekhar, but prefers Chandra (again, a good thing as Drayce can’t even come close to pronouncing his full name)

Very level headed, genuinely calm and collected; even in the face of danger. His ability to keep a cool head is envied by many

Also his ability to keep smiling and calm no matter what often pisses off a lot of people – not that it concerns him at all. He is often accused of being on some kind of calmative drug, but he’s not

Exceptionally easy going; very little fazes him. He is even rather encouraging of Zohar courting Drayce, even giving him a few tips and pointers

He is also interested in the magical aspect of materials of the labyrinth. He often works with Fiorello to create potions and tests them on random outsiders to see what they do

Has seer abilities, so believes heavily in fate and destiny. He believes it was fate that brought him to Drayce and his guild

Zohar;

He is surprisingly an old fashion romantic and has declared bluntly to Drayce that he wishes to court him

His courtship of Drayce is actually a big deal to him because of “Fanfic Reasons” and Drayce is the first person he’s encountered that actually intrigues him

He is very focused and not easily swayed, so Drayce’s reluctance to accept his courtship doesn’t deter him. He will continue to be romantic and attentive, and wait until Drayce is ready

He is very understanding of Drayce, especially when he goes through “Fanfic Plot Points”, truly wanting him to find happiness and confidence of himself

He only had one meaning in life as a necromancer before he met Drayce

Drayce affectionately refers to him as “Zoe” at times. But mostly he is Zohar because that is a name he had chosen for himself and Drayce likes it as it is

Yes, when they do get together they will be very affectionate

Loukas;

Comes from a longline of psychic Celestrians, so his abilities to have prophetic dreams and simply ‘know’ things aren’t new to him. Annoying, but nothing new. He honestly finds his talents to be a hassle

Doesn’t sleep much because of his ability to have cryptic/prophetic dreams. A terrible insomniac, he can literally go days without sleeping

A foul-tempered deadpan. Yes, that’s right. He doesn’t have time for unnecessary bullshit of others. Get to the point or get lost

He can also be a bit snarky if the situation calls for it. A commentator of sorts, gladly pointing out the stupidity of others. But once he becomes a member of the guild, he’s only snarky to outsiders. To his guild, he’s surprisingly attentive and accepting

Also has a soft spot for fluffy things. Caelem’s ears are one of them. Fortunately for him, Caelem adores a good ear scratch and head rub

Has great night vision, and is also very sneaky, so secretly enjoys sneaking up on people in the dark, scaring the hell out of them

He gets the nickname “Louie” from Drayce, but hates it

Koyla;

Acts confident and snooty, but is really a scaredy cat who wishes to be accepted and to be cared for

Because of “Fanfic Reasons” he is deaf in one ear, which shatters his confidence further, but his guildmates are working hard with him to help boast his self-esteem and to come to terms with his impairment

Loves a good ear scratch as well, so once he becomes a member of the guild, he will approach any guildmate that is sitting down and rest his head on their lap to have his ears rubbed. This is thankfully acceptable amongst his guildmates

Can be quite clingy and afraid of being alone. He needs to have someone within sight at all times or he’ll suffer from a panic attack

He didn’t get much love growing up, but he gets it in spades with his guild~

Gets affectionately called “Koko”

Mabuz;

By first appearance he is a self-centred asshole with the villainous voice. But as one has probably guessed, that is just a façade he has to wear for “Fanfic Reasons”

He is exceptionally loyal to others, especially Rhain, and will put his life on the line to ensure their safety

He is also very protective, again of Rhain, but Koyla, Runihura, Sarkis, and Liam for, once again “Fanfic Reasons”Is exceptionally good with animals and doesn’t eat meat, preferring fruit and bread

Has no interested in material things or money, though he will gather those things for another if needed

He’s really a good, soft-hearted boy with an unfortunate start to life. He will get all the attention and affection he deserves, though~

Liam;

The only son to a noble family, but was cast out because of false rumours and lies, and taken in by a greedy family :(

Declares himself Blayke’s rival, but that’s just a front really to hide his insecurities…and suicidal tendencies

Though he is polite and always smiling, he has a dreary outlook on life because of “Fanfic Reasons”

He learns genuine happiness when he joins the guild and as he looks back over his life, he is frightened by how suicidal he was

Blakye becomes his friendly, supportive rival to help with his self-esteem and they become good friends

Knew Andre from childhood but were forcibly separated. Andre never stopped looking for him, though, even as Liam gave up on life. Though he did hold the smallest bit of hope in his heart that he would see Andre again one day

He and Andre will eventually start a relationship and Andre will shower him with all the love and affection he needs and deserves

Sarkis;

Faelen’s cousin but were raised together by their grandmother (who was a well-known rover) as brothers

Appears dismissive and mute, hiding half his face in his scarf. But he’s really just insecure and has a hard time communicating with other people because he doesn’t know what to say most of the time

He can be a bit competitive, though, which Drayce encourages to a certain degree to help him come out of his shell

Though he acts as if it annoys him, he does appreciate the guild’s protectiveness toward hims. Especially after Fanfic Reasons

Has the unfortunate tendency to sleep walk, and sometimes crawling into the other’s bed. He is mortified in the morning, though the others aren’t concerned

Tries to do things on his own because he’s afraid of screwing up in front of people

He does like getting piggy back rides, though he buries his flushing face into the person’s shoulder

Hates the cold. Absolutely hates it. He also hates the taste of fish. Any fish in any dish. He can smell fish a mile away

Palash;

A bit scatterbrained at times and a complete bookworm. He has the habit of walking around while reading, which often results in him becoming lost. He even does this in the labyrinth, which forces Drayce or another to sometimes carry him

Utterly blind without his glasses and has several spare pairs in his bag and eventually around the guildhouse

Loves books so much that he will use one as a pillow or have one lying over his face as he sleeps. He can’t sleep comfortably without a book nearby

He has the unfortunate habit of laughing almost manically when he’s nervous. And he gets nervous a lot

He will latch onto the leg of the nearest person when he’s scared. And when he ventures into the third stratum, he stays clinging to his teammate’s leg, not letting go until they leave that god forsaken stratum

Faelen lets him ride on the back of Makya, which he enjoys. He doesn’t like riding on his tall guildmates’ shoulders, though; far too high for him!

Can be easily bribed with sweet things, though

Nickname is “Pal” or “Pally”

Japhia;

Extremely clumsy, seemingly tripping over nothing. Mostly because of his hair over his eyes. He has perfect vision, but insists on having his hair over his eyes. Never says why.

He also has a terrible sense of direction. Seemingly able to get lost in his own room. Doesn’t bother him, though, as getting lost is simply fate’s detour. Or something. That’s his excuse anyway

He’s from the same Brounii village as Chandra and they set off to visit Iory at the same time, but Japhia, naturally, got lost

Seemingly has a bottomless pit of a stomach – can literally eat anything without getting ill. A cast-iron guts, he claims

He claims a lot of things, really, but no one knows if they’re true or not because he never elaborates on any of his claims

Gets the nickname “Jappa”

Rhain;

A caretaker and mother hen – everyone else comes first without exception. He would gladly give up the shirt on his back for another. All he cares for is the safety and well-being of others; he never thinks of himself

He is also rather vulnerable in a selfless way

He doesn’t have a set class, he takes on a role that is beneficial for the sake of others. Roles that were also forced upon him by another

Specialised in dowsing, his uses his psychic abilities to pinpoint areas of interest on maps even if he’s not within the labyrinth at the time

He and Drayce were forcibly separated when they were 11 years old and while Drayce doesn’t remember him, he remembers Drayce. And is adamant that the man that took him will never learn of Drayce’s existence

He’s a very soft and gentle person who will eventually be reunited with Drayce and Kyrell, but not after a fair bit of Fanfic Reasons~

Andre;

Purely coincidental that he looks similar to Salim – they complement each other on their good tastes in looks and style, though

Was once a guard to Liam’s family, but left in disgust when Liam was cast out of the family by the lies of a relative. He has been looking for him ever since

Extremely protective of Liam and is furious that the bubbly blond he knew as a kid has turned into a suicidal, insecure teen

He quickly pledged his life to Liam, though, and has vowed to make Liam happy and enjoy life once more – and to keep him away from his petty noble family

Though he prefers not to fight and looks for the peaceful way to anything, he will not hesitate to beat the living shit out of anyone or anything to dares to antagonise or threaten Liam or his guild

Can’t cook to save his life – burns everything he tries to cook, which often leads to him standing away from the fireplace in the labyrinth just in case the food that is being cooked spontaneously combusts or something

Gets the nickname “Andy” which unreasonable pisses him off for some reason. He doesn’t even know why

Whew, and that’s all of them so far. The ‘official fanfic’ characters at least. Let me know which ones you finds interesting~

[turbotwintastic]

@dduane​  About your lighting situation!  Sorry I didn’t get back immediately, I kinda fell asleep lol.  I’ve never used DAZ Studio, but from what I looked at online, it looks a lot like Maya.  

So what I was getting at was a 3 point lighting setup, with a key light, a rim light (or a back light), and a fill light: 

You already have a good setup with the fireplace being the rim light, and the candles as your key light.  It would help to bring up the brightness on them just a bit more (even if candles wouldn’t normally do that). 

Then, I don’t know exactly the lights you have in DAZ Studio, but I would assume you have spotlights, yes?  Adding a spotlight fill light that was dim, and in a contrasting color such as blue or purple, would bring out the characters:  

(Please excuse me crudely labeling them as Dude 1 and 2)

The reason I say use a spotlight instead of a different light is that you can angle it at the characters themselves and not light up the background as well, because you’re trying to separate them from it. 

I wouldn’t overdo it too much, because you’re still going for a dim lighting situation.  But having warm light creates cool shadows. Case in point, this picture of campfire light in snow I took a couple weeks ago: 

The blue is twilight and dim moonlight, and the orange is, obviously, the camp fire.  While in DAZ, you’re not getting the cooler shadows, you can force it a little by adding a cool, dim fill light.  

Sorry for rambling, I don’t know if this makes a whole lot of sense, I know I’m kinda rambling and repeating myself.  I’m not even a 3D animator, I’m much more into hand drawn animation, so I’m definitely no expert in lighting techniques.  But here’s a couple videos that could probably explain it a bit more: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w3xYPOiPtE4 more info on 3 Point Lighting

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MO4TU9H_DPE 3 Point Lighting & Candles in DAZ 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ged71iQ10ZA Creating dramatic lighting in DAZ 

idk how good those last 2 vids are, I didn’t watch them fully. BUT I really hope this helps!