#Shay Mountain

[sunnys-day]

Dreams

Pairing: Hasil Farrell x Female OC

Words: 1776

Warnings: Injuries (not fatal), swearing, mention of family loss... lmk if I missed any

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Summary: Hasil's dreams lead him to a young woman in need of his help. Part 1.

@babykayla288 - this took me longer than I intended and it's only the first part, but I hope you like it.

AN: This is NOT a Sasil fic. Sally-May is an amazing character and I love her and Hasil together, but I wanted to do something different.

He hadn’t been sure what he was supposed to be looking for, but his dream had been quite clear on where he was supposed to go. Off the normal trail was a rockface that climbers often frequented, but the Farrells avoided, which was why Hasil hadn’t told anyone where he was going when he left. He couldn’t explain it, but the dream left him almost frantic about finding whatever he was sure to see there. He wasn’t expecting that ‘thing’ to be a young woman around his age with raven black hair lying beneath the rock face.

At first, he was confused; why on earth would his dream tell him to come find a dead body? Upon closer inspection, he realized it wasn’t… it was telling him to find a LIVE one. He wasn’t sure how she’d survived the fall, but the slight rise and fall of her chest was unmistakable. He had no idea what Lady Ray would say about their visitor, but leaving her here wasn’t an option, not for him. With all the gentleness he possessed, he first looked her over to try to find some kind of wound. Her arms were scratched to hell, telling him she’d tried to catch herself on the way down, and he was sure one of them was broken, but other than that, she looked okay for someone who had just fallen off a cliff. When he went to pick her up, he noticed the strange necklace she had grasped in her right hand. It reminded him of the one he often saw Lady Ray wearing, but he quickly shook off the thought, grabbing the necklace, shoving it in his pocket, and carefully picking her up.

“What the hell?” she groaned, attempting to bring her hand up but wincing at the pain. “Fuck.” Hasil half expected her to start flailing when she realized she was in a stranger’s arms, but she seemed more relieved than anything when she looked at him. “Hi.”

“Hi?”

He was going to hazard a guess that she had a concussion; either that or she was just crazy. He wanted to tell her she’d be ok and that she was safe with him, but she passed out right after the word left his lips. So with a whispered ‘fuckin hell,’ he readjusted his hold on her and walked her to the 4-wheeler he’d left on the main trail. He still had no idea who she was or why his dream had brought him to her, but he didn’t think his family was going to take kindly to him bringing an outsider into their territory. Only one way to find out…

*

Lady Ray had been shocked as hell when she walked into the healer’s tent and saw the young woman. G’win was currently tearing into Hasil, calling him irresponsible and stupid for bringing her to them, but one look at her face and Lady Ray immediately stopped her.

“That’s enough.”

“Lady Ray?”

“Is she gonna be alright?”

“She’s got a broken arm, a concussion, and cuts all up and down her arms.”

“Don’t rightly answer my question.”

She didn’t sound angry, but there was a distinct edge to her tone that told them to tread very carefully. G’win wasn’t sure what the hell Hasil was thinking but now she was even more confused by their Bren’in and her reaction to this woman.

“She’ll be fine.”

“Good. Hasil, come with me.”

Hasil looked from the girl to his Bren’in but didn’t dare argue, nodding once and following her obediently. She quickly dismissed the others from her living room, and once it was just the two of them, Hasil was finally gifted with answers.

“Everythin alright, Bren’in?”

“That girl… did she have anything else on her?”

“Just this.” He pulled the necklace from his pocket and handed it over, watching her closely and catching the moment her eyes seemed to tear up. “Who is she?”

“Mitena… her family once helped our clan in a time of dire need. It was during the time of the big storm; several of our homes were destroyed along with most of our food and clean water. I was prepared t’ do whatever was necessary but they offered us their help freely. Requested nothin in return, but a Farrell doesn’t take charity, so I give ‘em that necklace. Told ‘em if they ever needed help, t’ just bring that back and they’d be welcome with open arms.”

“So her comin here weren’t no coincidence?” she shook her head ‘no’ but left it at that, at least until his next words. “Here I thought my dreams were just leadin me on a wild goose chase.”

“Dreams? What dreams?” Hasil told her about every dream he’d had over the past week. All about finding something important in an unexpected place. He explained that he had no idea it would be a person. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

“Like I said, I wasn’t sure if they was just dreams or something more.”

“Still, next time you come directly t’ me. Understand?”

“Of course Bren’in.”

“Good. Now, I’ll want t’ talk t’ her when she wakes, but I’m placin her under your charge.”

“Me?!”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” She scoffed. “You were the ones given the dreams, means your story with her has only just begun.”

“So you’re lettin her stay?”

“I am. I made a promise, and I keep my promises.”

“The rest of our kin may not like this.”

“You let me worry about them. You just worry about her.”

“Yes ma’am.”

*

When Mitena regained consciousness, she silently looked around the unfamiliar room, searching for the man she’d seen in her dreams. However, after everything that had happened, she wasn’t about to let her guard down so easily. Her parents had begged their leader not to let those women stay, but helping those in need was kind of their whole thing… only this time it led to the death of her family. Her mother’s quick thinking was the ONLY reason she’d survived, placing the necklace in her hand and telling her to find the Farrells. She’d heard stories of this clan and the promise that remained between their family and her own, and she was relieved to discover that the man in her dreams was part of that family.  

Hasil walked in a moment later, and his smile at the sight of her awake caused a small flurry of butterflies to flit in her chest. His Aura had a mix of orange, yellow, and green, bringing a natural calm to her spirit… unlike her healer, who she was seriously considering stabbing. She hadn’t heard everything, but G’win had been speaking to herself, and Mitena had heard enough to know she wasn’t happy with her presence. Something that was confirmed by her words to Hasil before realizing Mitena was awake.

“What’d she say?”

“I’m t’ look after her.”

He was speaking to G’win but looking directly at Mitena and his lip curved the tiniest amount when she let out a relieved sight. He hadn’t officially met the woman, but something about her was drawing him in, just as she was being drawn to him.

“Are you serious?! Since when do we take in strays?”

“If you’ve got a problem with it, I suggest you go on and talk t’ our Bren’in.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Maybe you should.” He shrugged, winking at Mitena and smiling outright when he saw her trying to hide a laugh. “I’m just tellin' you what she told me.”

“You sure you’re tellin' me everything?”

He just shrugged again, and G’win let out an angry groan, tossing a rag at him and wondering if everyone in this family had lost their damn minds. “Since she’s your problem, you wrap up her arm. I’m gonna go talk t’ Lady Ray and git t’ the bottom of this.”

“Knock yourself out.” He was so unphased by her outburst that Mitena figured this must be a pretty regular interaction between them. When she was finally gone, he walked over and sat beside her on the bed as though they were old friends rather than new acquaintances. “Don’t mind her. She’s a bit paranoid, but she means well.”

“She sounds like a raging bitch.”

He didn’t bother hiding his laugh, finding her assessment hilarious but not entirely wrong. He cared very much for G’win and thought she would make a decent Bren’in in the future, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be self-serving and downright mean to outsiders.

“She ain’t all bad.” He shrugged, “Now, I gotta fix up your arm. Can ya sit up for me?”

She did as he asked, wincing but not crying out when he started wrapping her arm. She was more interested in watching his face, looking for micro-expressions that would tip her off before she fell too deep. What she found instead was a deeply caring individual, and in this moment, she knew why her dreams were leading her to him.

“Thank you.”

“Can’t leave ya all banged up.”

“Not just for this.” She whispered, bowing her head so she could compose herself and meeting his eyes when she was sure she wouldn’t cry. “I know bringin me here was a risk.”

“No risk, no reward.” He teased, finding the tint of pink dusting her cheeks to be nothing short of mesmerizing. “What were ya doing all the way out here, anyways?”

“My family… we were targeted by the Kinnah. As far as I know, I’m the only one who survived.”

He’d heard stories of the Kinnah and none of them were good. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” She shrugged, happy that this conversation was going well, all things considered. “My mama told me t’ come find your family, said you’d help.”

“She’s right. Lady Ray said you can stay as long as ya want, but she’s gonna wanna talk t’ you… and she’ll wanna know about them Kinnah.” Mitena nodded in understanding, smiling up at him when he took her now bandaged hand in his and gave her a slight squeeze. “You’re safe here. Safe with me.”

“Thank you… I’m Mitena, by the way.”

“Hasil. Pleasure t’ meet you, Mitena.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Hasil.”

It was a small introduction, and while her heart was in tatters after the loss of her family, she was so thankful her dreams had led her to such a man as this. He had such a calming effect on her; it was unlike anything she’d experienced before, and though she didn’t know how this would end up, she was grateful to have him as her guide.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 7: Then Again

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader

Summary: Everyone’s got regrets they might wish to go back and change, but then again, you would have never gotten here

Word Count: 3,304

Content/Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, SMUT, honest conversations, hiking, cuddling, soft intimate shower, oral sex (f receiving), p in v protected sex, lotsa kissing, praise and lowkey size kink, swears

Author’s Note: O. M. G. This is the first time I’ve written smut, so I wanted to make it super soft and loving like I feel really pairs for this couple. Nine months into the relationship, wowza. Talk about true love, somebody pls find me a bear of a man like this.

Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo welcome and appreciated!!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Below is the song which inspired this chapter. It’s my favorite on the entire album. It just kinda puts warmth and longing into my chest, so I hope the vibe matches what I’ve written.

< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >

“Yes Mom, I promise I’ll be safe.” You looked into the camera of your phone as your mom looked right back at you.

“As long as you promise. I don’t want you eaten by a bear, but apparently you’ve got your own bear of a boyfriend to ward them off.” You laughed along with her own chuckle at that joke.

“Yes, Ari knows these woods well. I have no doubt he’s taking us on a good and safe route.” Your head turned away from the phone at a knock at the door.

“That’s probably him now.”

It was Sunday morning and Ari had asked you on a nice hike with him. The weather was set to be sunny, yet brisk, perfect for a rigorous walk through the mountains.

You opened the door and Ari greeted you with a kiss on the top of your head. “Morning, Duchess.”

He turned to see you were on the phone. “Oh, good morning Mrs.—“

“Ari, please. Call me mom. How many times do I have to tell you?” You both smiled and blushed at that as Ari went into your kitchen and dropped off his things. You sat on the couch, continuing your phone call.

“I knew there was something about that boy the first time I saw him. I’m so glad the two of you are so happy together. I can’t wait to come visit and officially meet him in person soon.” Ari had spoken to your mom on several occasions over FaceTime now, each time garnering more of her respect and adoration, which was rare for her. She always had sky high expectations, and you were her daughter after all, but she didn’t want you to have to face the same struggles she did, both career and romance-wise.

You rolled your eyes, thinking she wouldn’t catch it, but of course she did. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady. You know I’m right. I’ll let you go have fun on your date, though. I love you!”

You smiled back. “Love you, too, Mom.”

Once the call ended, you walked over to Ari, watching him bent over and looking through your fridge. You just couldn’t resist the urge to smack the plump, ripe piece of ass in joggers before you. Just as you were winding up, a large hand went and covered both cheeks.

“I know what you’re, thinking, Angel. You’re not gonna get me this time.” He rose from his hunched position, and towered over you, eyes glinting with mischief, pairing with the sly grin on his face. Before you knew it, Ari had scooped you up and plopped you back on the couch, peppering your face with kisses and tickling your sides. You were helpless, kicking your legs from under his body, doing your best to fight off the attack.

“Ari, quit it! I give, I give, you win!” You squealed through your giggle.

Ari’s hands and lips stopped their assault, but he didn’t pull away, instead, leaning in and putting a fat kiss on your lips. “Get on your hiking boots! We’ve gotta go before it gets hot.”

You nodded and looked up at him through your eyelashes. “Help me tie them?”

Ari’s head drooped down as he sighed and grabbed your boots off the floor. He could never say no to that look. He kissed each shin as he slid the boots onto your feet. “Anything for you, Duchess.”

You helped by tying one of the shoes as Ari tied the other. He was just such an expert, having to do this everyday for however many years now. Looking at the single knot you had made on your right shoe, he untied it and pulled the laces tight, making his own double knot in its place.

“You’re so much better at that than me.” You huffed. He laughed back, kissing the wrinkle away from your forehead that showed up when you were frustrated.

“Nonsense. You’re great at it. I just like ‘em extra secure.” He grabbed your hand and helped to lift you off the couch, the two of you putting on your hiking backpacks and heading out the door, ready for the trail.

Your hike was filled with amazing views and sightings of so much wildlife. You truly loved seeing Ari in his element, as well. He constantly checked on you as he led you through the winding trails, pointing out his favorite spots and, of course, stopping for snacks and photo ops.

He could tell when the exhaustion was starting to creep in, but luckily by that point, the two of you were nearly home.

As you came back, Ari started on heating up the leftovers from dinner the night before. You went out to your back porch which overlooked the rolling landscape, rich with colors of green and rocky gray, mountains graced with snow caps when you looked up at the peaks surrounding you.

Ari came out carrying two warm plates of Thai food from the good place in town and you snuggled up on the couch of your patio furniture and ate together.

He grabbed your plates and set them aside, as the two of you chatted, the sun casting a warm glow over the landscape. Ari pulled you close so your back was against his chest, his strong arms tight around your waist. He wiggled to scoot until his back was up against the arm rest, finally placing his head on your shoulder as the two of you settled.

Ari kissed your neck, his beard lightly scratching the sensitive skin, as you sat there pensively. “Ari, do you ever wish you could go back and change things? Go back to a time that was simpler, where you didn’t know what it was like to live through so many hardships? Do it all differently?” You felt his chest heave with a sigh and he exhaled out of his nose, the warm air hitting your collar bone.

Ari let the question hang in the air for a moment, thinking over everything in his life while he formulated an answer. “If I could go back, I probably would’ve held onto my old Bronco. It used to be my grandpa’s, and it was getting old, so I traded it in for the truck. I probably would’ve visited him down in Atlanta a little more, too, before he passed.”

You nodded as he hummed, thinking of more things. “I probably would’ve stuck around for graduation, finished my degree so I could become rich.”

You giggled as his chest rumbled behind you. “I’d probably apologize to Savannah for wasting her time, would’ve hung out and vacationed with my childhood friends a little more….”

“Had a little more patience, or sent a few more prayers to heaven, but I don’t know if that all was really in the cards. If it were up to me, who knows where I’d be? I look back at all of that. The heartbreaks, the hard goodbyes, they led me here.”

You turned to look up at him, his gaze distant in thought before he looked down at you. “If it was all different, though, I wouldn’t be sitting here with my whole world in my arms, stealing kisses on a Sunday afternoon. Sure, there are a few things that I might’ve changed if God put me in charge, but then again, I would have never met you.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes at his words. “Why? Is there anything you regret?”

You laughed and sniffled as you shook your head. “No. Not at all.” He used his thumb to wipe the tears falling down your cheeks.

“I feel really dumb right now. I was gonna say something stupid like buying bitcoin to be rich. Or like, maybe just not date at all until I found you. But you make a great point. I wouldn’t have come up here if it weren’t for all that. I think I love you too much to regret anything that led me here. Anything that I thought was a wrong turn definitely turned out right.”

He shook his head, laughing along with you, kissing away the rest of your tears. “Trust me, I love you more.”

The two of you sat there, basking in each other’s presence, before you began to become overly aware of the dried dirt and sweat that sat on your skin.

“I, um…. I think I’m gonna go take a shower. Get the outdoors off of me.” Ari nodded and helped you up off his lap, preparing to head home and do the same when you lingered before heading inside.

“Do you want to….join…me?” Ari sprung up out of his chair, head nodding vigorously. He grabbed the plates off the table and ran to drop them in the sink. He watched as you sauntered, hips swaying while you discarded pieces of clothing, one by one, completely naked before reaching the barn door that closed off the master bathroom from your bedroom.

Ari shimmied down his pants with much less grace, shucking off his shirt and socks, before joining you in the steamy room. He watched in awe as you stepped into the water and it ran down the curves of your body. Ari reached his hand under the stream and immediately retracted at the sting of the heat.

“God, Duchess. I love you, but I don’t think I could stand it if the lava you’re standing under burns my skin off before I even get to touch you.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Bear, it’s not that bad.”

You begrudgingly turned down the temperature as Ari joined you. This wasn’t the first time you and Ari had done anything, but it was the first time you had seen each other fully naked all at once, since you hadn’t fully had sex yet.

You turned around as Ari grabbed your shampoo, gently rubbing it into your scalp. You moaned in satisfaction at the feeling of his fingertips massaging your head, basking in the intimacy and ecstasy of the moment.

“Angel, if you keep making noises like that, I don’t think we’ll ever get clean.” You laughed as you leaned back to wash the shampoo out of your hair.

Ari leaned under the stream with you to wet his hair. You squeezed the shampoo into your hand and began to massage it into his scalp, scratching your nails through his hair just the way he liked.

“Oh, fuck Angel, that’s good.” You giggled, hitting him in the chest.

“If I’ve gotta stop, so do you, mister.”

The two of you continued to wash each other, sharing kisses and feather light touches here and there before getting out and drying off.

Once you had brushed out your hair and Ari’s, the two of you made your way to your bed, sheets freshly washed just the day before. You had your towel wrapped around your body while Ari’s hung low on his waist. Ari held your hips, looking into your eyes, as you slowly backed up until your knees gave out from hitting against the bed.

Ari moved to crawl over you, his towel coming undone as he did so. Your eyes trailed down his firm chest, to his chiseled abs, until you could see how hard he was. You moaned at the sight, watching how his dick twitched in response.

His eyes stayed locked with yours until he leaned down and kissed you, trailing away from your lips and down your neck before retracing the path with his tongue.

You shuffled under him, removing your towel and discarding it on the floor with his, adjusting yourself so your head laid against the pillows. He kissed you again, deeply, passionately, before smiling and pulling away.

“I love you. I’d never change anything about my life unless it meant I could have met you sooner just to love you that much longer.”

You could feel his heavy cock tap against your leg as he kissed down your chest, eyes never leaving yours. You watched intently, lips parted in a light gasp as he finally reached where you were yearning for his touch.

Ari’s biceps bulged when he pulled your legs apart, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. Your breath shuddered at the sensation.

“Is this okay, Angel?” You nodded and whispered back.

“Yes, please. Please keep going.”

Ari’s tongue darted out of his mouth licking a stripe up your slit. Your back bowed as he dove in, licking and sucking. You knew he called you Angel, but his tongue was heavenly.

You let out a high-pitched moan, entangling your fingers through the wet strands of Ari’s hair, using the leverage to grind against his face. He inserted a finger into you, pumping it and curling it against your spot just right. You felt your legs began to shake, but pushed Ari’s head away before you could reach your peak.

“Wait, hold on.” You spoke while still trying to catch your breath. He looked up at you in bewilderment, beard glistening with your arousal.

“What’s wrong, Duchess? Did I do something?” You shook your head, still gasping for air.

“No, no. It was so good, I just, uh…..I want you to be inside me when I come.” Ari nodded, coming back up your body to kiss you.

“Okay.” He whispered back, a soft smile on his face. “Gimme a sec.”

He ran over to his discarded joggers and fished in the pocket to find his wallet where he pulled out a condom. He returned to you in bed, taking his spot between your legs again, and rolled it on. You knew he was huge, and you’d only taken two of his fingers before, but you couldn’t help the anticipation to feel all of him.

“I’m gonna open you up first, okay Angel?”

You nodded and immediately threw your head back as Ari scissored two of his long fingers against your walls, preparing you and stretching you out for what was to come. You wailed when he added a third and Ari swore he had never heard or seen something so beautiful before. The movie that was you feeling this level of bliss from him made him feel warmth and pride through his chest. He needed to be inside you.

Ari pulled out his fingers, swirling his tongue around them and sucking them clean, moaning at the sweet taste. His eyes rolled back and he nearly came from the culmination of partaking in your pleasure up to that point. You couldn’t help but clench against nothing, watching the specks of lust within the love in his gaze after that as he leaned down and framed your face with his large hands. He leaned in to kiss you, then pulled away as his dark blue irises, thin around his blown pupils, shifted between your eyes.

“Are you ready? Are you sure?” It came out breathy and strained. He wanted this as badly as you, after taking everything step by painfully slow step for nine months together.

“Yes, Ari. Please. I just want to feel you so close.”

He nodded and ran the head of his cock

up and down your folds, gathering your arousal before perching at your entrance. He kept one hand at his base, the other on your cheek as he looked deeply into your eyes. You felt the bulbous tip breach your entrance, almost with a pop as your tight warmth welcomed Ari.

“Ah, oh, Angel, you’re so tight.” Ari nearly yelped at the feeling of being inside you. You watched as he couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter closed from the overwhelming pleasure. “I’ll take it slow, promise.”

All Ari wanted was for you to enjoy this as much as him, and when he was able to pry his eyes open to see the way your face was contorted, your eyes as sincere and pleading as his, he knew you were. He slowly pushed in further, accompanied by a deep moan from you. Neither of you were virgins by any means, but something about this moment with Ari felt like being born again, straight into delectation.

He pushed another inch in, slowly, and your hands flew to his broad back, nails digging in the muscles that firmly blanketed his scapulas. His hips jumped at the sting, pushing him in to the hilt, causing you both to brace against each other at the fullness and all encompassing warmth.

His head dipped into crook of your neck, breath fanning your collar bone and beard sending tingles through your body as he sucked on the spot that gave you chills.

Your hands ran down his back and to his ass, pulling him in closer to you, if that was even possible.

“Ari, I need you to move.” You felt him nod against you and his hips pulled out only a few inches before rolling back in.

You breathy moans were close to his ear, spurring him on to keep going faster, pulling out farther and pushing in deeper until the warmth from your core began to climb up your body again. He found a rhythm and could feel as your pussy began to clench.

“Duchess, I can feel you’re close. It feels so good. You’re always so good to me.” His praise pulled you that much closer to the edge, hands grasping for purchase across his back, slipping slightly from the thin layer of sweat.

“Fuck, Angel. So tight. It’s okay, you can let go. Let go for me.” Ari needed you to come for him. He needed to feel your body sucking him in, holding him tighter. He pulled his head from your neck to look into your eyes when it happened. He moved his thumb down to your clit, rubbing tight circles and sending you over the cliff you were hanging on.

“Oh god, Ari!” You keened, your ankles locking around his narrow hips as your entire body contracted in ecstasy. Ari wasn’t far behind, the tightness surrounding him causing him to drive his hips all the way forward and spill into the condom. He collapsed over your chest again as he grunted lowly into your ear.

The two of you stayed there for a few minutes as you caught your breaths. He pulled back, his now dry hair draping over the sides of his face and framing yours, making a small world where it was only the two of you. His silky brown locks blocked everything else out. The only thing in existence was your shared gaze, filled with hazy satisfaction and dopey smiles.

Ari leaned down and kissed your lips, and then your forehead before he whispered to you. “I’m going to pull out, okay? You stay here while I go get a washcloth.”

You nodded and gasped as you felt the sensation of the ridges of his dick passing against your walls until you were empty. On instinct you rolled over to your side and closed your legs, still sporadically convulsing from the orgasm. Ari returned and cleaned you up, pulling up the covers and crawling into bed behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you closer.

He kissed you shoulder and muttered. “I’m so happy to have you. I love you so much.”

You turned over and tangled your legs with his, pulling him in for a lazy, filthy kiss. “I love you, and I’m the luckiest person in the world. Or more like, my whole world was just in me.”

You winked at Ari as his shoulders bounced in laughter at your ridiculous statement. You were drunk in happiness, but neither of you would have it any other way. You slung your arm around his waist and nestled deeply into his chest, a satisfied smile on your face.

Next >

Bonus A/N: as Paris Hilton says, “that’s hot”

Series Taglist:

@patzammit

@hawkeyes-queen

@identity2212

[bonefall]

Thunder and Clear Sky are fighting and oh no! Clear Sky seems to be winning? But what’s this?? IT’S SLASH WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!

Funny enough I WAS actually planning a moment like that with the Wind Coalition. I might shuffle it now...

It was going to be one of the first times Bumble really showcases how good her ability to translate is. Thunder Storm was trying to painfully negotiate with Shadow's Group, or gets in some scuffle with Sky's Clan again (was still working out the details) and JUST as it seemed lost, Bumble shouted "HELP! MURDER!" in Parkmew, causing a cluster of WindCo cats to burst to the rescue

But maybe instead I can shuffle it so that there's a moment towards the very, very end of the diplomacy section where Clear Sky brings his WHOLE forces to destroy the tiny Clan, and THAT is when Thunder and Slash realize they've been pitted against each other.

Hmm... maybe I should back up and cause some sections in that diplomacy arc where Tall Shadow and The Wind Runner offer what Thunder needs in their talks, in exchange for being mercenaries against Slash's cats. Thunder accepts several times, since he was in Clear Sky's group where he "saw that it's true, theyre violent and aggressive..."

Show how it can benefit him to accept what the other groups believe about Slash and his cats, but also REJECT it by showing that in the end, it oppresses BOTH Thunder and Slash to be fighting each other and Thunder was completely wrong to accept their words at face value.

Thunder Storm isn't immune to being an enforcer of the systems he created a Clan to reject.

I think it would also be really good form to change Slash's name a little, because he's SO BAD in the original text, just to differentiate what I'm doing with him.

Hmm... since none of the other groups seem to have a Leader Power yet since they're so new, maybe SLASH and his group is the one with a little bit of magic? I could have Slash be able to die a couple of times.

I could have the white marks on his legs spread up every time he takes damage. Instead of straightforward "lives," however bad it was determines how vertical the slash is. So a REALLY bad death stands straight up, while every drain from weakness or starvation just loops around the leg.

Kinda like one of those heartbeat monitors.

Maybe the other groups call him Slash because of that, but it's not his real name...

[murmursdraconic]

What a welcome invitation that was; not to talk about it. Every fibre of her being did not. She had her hat in her hands, fidgeting with it, twisting at the edges. Her Haxorus' head in her lap. She knew exactly what was to be spoken about.

The dragon was there for reassurance.

"I don't, but I should." She replies anxiously. "It's important. It'd never come up naturally in conversation anyway."

Shay moves one hand to the top of Havoc's head, stroking it slowly.

"It's not going to be believable." She admits, fighting hesitation. "It's a light burn scar. I ended up... somewhere in a void. That's all I can describe it as. Something took us there, wherever that there was. we came across something... immense, and bright. Never seen anything like it. It attacked and we tried to defend ourselves."

Shay stops. Her left hand is shaking a bit. She doesn't want to remember but she is making herself. Havoc rumbles with a low tone of concern, gently biting her right hand.

"It missed."

@beiowzero X

[mercymaker]

woke up from a dream that i was on a tour bus and the driver got us to the very steps leading to the beach to witness a black sunset

which everyone from the bus except for me missed and it was only because I booked it down the stairs as fast as I could and then ducked really low to see the last seconds of blood-red sun sinking beneath the horizon (it was also booking it, setting so fast)

but yeah nah it was beautiful! the entire beach was filled with black sand! and the moment the sun was gone the sky was filled with lights it was fucken lit

[doublescribble]

Shai Gilgeous-Alexander and Kentavious Caldwell-Pope

[unikornu]

Mountain Divider and Stick To Me - new musa and shai skill learned via Magnus Storyline

[EU] Unikornu

[travsd]

The Dorothy Shay, Park Avenue Hillbillie Centennial

Born 100 years ago today. Dorothy Shay (Dorothy Sims, 1921-1978) popularly billed as “The Park Avenue Hillbillie”. Ironically, Shay was originally from Jacksonville, Florida and had taken vocal and speech lessons to get rid of her accent. In her early ’20s she toured with the USO as a singer and fronted Morton Gould’s band. In 1946 she released her incest-themed novelty number “Uncle Fud” , and…

[najia-cooks]

[ID: A Moroccan teaglass with a bundle of sage, a saucer of dried sage, a deep blue-purple teapot, and a Palestinian vase in the background. End ID]

شاي المريمية / Shay al-maryamiyya (Palestinian sage tea)

Palestinian sage is a common after-dinner beverage and digestive aid made from black tea and three-lobed wild sage (Salvia fruticosa syn. Salvia triloba L.). In the Levant, this variety of sage is known as "مَرْيَمِيَّة" ("maryamīyya") or, more dialectically, "مَرْمَرِيَّة" ("marmariyya").

Terminology and etymology

The term "maryamīyya" likely derives from the Aramaic "מרייא" ("marvā"), meaning "common sage" (Salvia officinalis). The modern form of the word in Arabic—as well as in Persian, in which "مریم گلی" ("maryam goli") is “sage” or "garden sage"—was also influenced by a folkloric association between sage and the مَرْيَم (Maryam) of the Bible (Mary, mother of Jesus). Dr. Tawfiq Kanaan, for example, says that Mary sat on a stone to rest after a walk in the hot summer sun, and used a few leaves from a sage plant to dry her forehead: this is how the plant got its pleasant scent, and why it is still named after Mary. The dialectical pronunciation "marmariyya" then arises through an assimilation of the second syllable to the first.

"Maryamīyya" is perhaps also related to the obsolete Arabic مَرْو ("marw"), meaning "fragrant herbs" [1]. This Arabic term is derived from the Aramaic מַרְוָא / ܡܲܪܘܵܐ ("marwā"), which refers to wild marjoram or za'tar (Origanum syriacum; syn. Origanum maru) and is related to words for fragrant herbage, marjoram, and grass (Ciancaglini; see also Aramäische Pflanzennamen, p. 193). The Aramaic is itself a borrowing from the southwest Middle Persian "𐭬𐭫𐭥𐭠" (transliterated: mlw'; pronounced /⁠marw⁠/) [2], which survives in several New Persian words: see for example "مرغ" ("margh"), "a species of grass of which animals are exceedingly fond"; and "مرو" ("marv"), "a fragrant herb." (Interestingly, the related Sanskrit मरुव "maruva" ultimately gives the English "marjoram" by way of Latin and Old French.)

[1] The term may also refer to the genus Maerua (to which it gives its name), and in particular the species Maerua crassifolia.

[2] See also Müller-Kessler, p. 10, and note 41 on p. 29; MacKenzie, p. 55.

Sage and Palestinian Culture

Three-lobed sage is one of the "most deeply rooted plants in the Palestinian traditional culture and ethnobotany," being the second-most-mentioned of all foraged plants (after za'tar) in a survey conducted in 2008. The connection of three-lobed sage to Maryam leads to its use in creating protective blessings at various rituals from birth until death; in the Galilee, it is burned to guard against the evil eye and to expel demons at births, weddings, and at the graves of holy people. When consumed, it is believed to help with many ailments including stomach complaints, eye diseases, and insomnia, and is used to treat livestock as well as humans.

Maryamiyya is not commonly grown as a garden herb in Palestine; rather, it is foraged from its wild range across the mountains of the West Bank, where it scents the air. Like za'atar and labna, using maryamiyya for culinary purposes is connected to Palestinian identity throughout all regions, with some people asserting that every Palestinian household must have some in stock.

Tea made with the addition of sage is perhaps the most popular herbal tea in Palestine, especially in the winter: though mint, chamomile, and aniseed are also commonly infused in water and drunk. Other varieties of sage grow in Palestine and are produced and exported by Palestinian farmers [1], but Gustaf Dalman noted in the early 20th century that three-lobed sage was the most important variety:

Of the spicy-smelling labiate flowers, which assume a significant role in the flora of Palestine, numerous sage varieties bloom in the spring. Among these the Salvia triloba, with violet flower heads on a tall shrub, is not the most colorful but is the best known, called in the north 'ēzaqān [عِيزَقَانْ] and in the south miryamīye, mēramīye thus connecting it with the Virgin Mary. (trans. Nadia Abdulhadi Sukhtian)

During the spring, sage leaves are collected and air-dried for use in tea throughout the whole year. Tea may also be made from fresh leaves, but some people consider dried to be superior. Dried maryamiyya leaves are purchased by Palestinian refugees and expatriates wherever they are. Food is thus tied to locality, memory, resistance, and terroir—a groundedness in land that considers aspects as diverse and interconnected as soil, climate, and politics. A concept of terroir in agriculture and cooking brings out how products "register[] origin and provenance."

[1] Today, the vast majority of Palestinian herb exports are to the United States, but Palestinian farmers are not able to export goods themselves—they rely on Israeli distributors and exporters, which cuts into their profits and curtails their autonomy.

Criminalizing Foraging

Ali-Shtayeh et al. noted in 2008 that the gathering of wild edible plants had been in decline in the Palestinian territories throughout preceding decades, with many young people lacking the cultural knowledge to identify and prepare wild plants. They mention several possible reasons for the decline, including an increase in intensive agriculture, improvement in national networks of roads, and the fact that some middle-aged people associate foraging with times of poverty. But we should also consider the fines, arrests, and potential imprisonment that Palestinians risk when foraging wild plants for food as a likely cause for the decline in the practice.

There are two strains of law relevant to the criminalization of foraging in "Israel" and the occupied Palestinian territories (the West Bank and Gaza: henceforth "OPT"). The first consists of primary laws which establish the right of representatives of the Israeli government to declare a plant to be a protected "natural value" (ערכי טבע), and lay out the maximum penalties people can be charged with for causing "harm" ("פג'עה") to a protected plant; the second comprises secondary declarations in the form of lists of which plants are considered protected.

The 1963 Natural Parks and Nature Reserve Law (חוק גנים לאומיים ושמורות טבע, תשכ"ג - 1963) belongs to the first strain. It empowered the Minister of Agriculture to declare a plant to be protected within "Israel," subject to the approval of a government council (ch. 5, 40-42); and declared that harming a plant was an offence punishable by up to three months' imprisonment (chapter 6).

In the text of the law, "harm" is specifically defined to include "picking," "קטיפה," and "gathering," "נטילה." No systematic distinction is established based on how much of the plant was harvested, and whether the plant was foraged for personal or commercial purposes. Nor is there any qualification of what qualities a plant should have to be considered "protected," or any obligation for the government to pursue or present scientific evidence that a given plant is overharvested.

In 1969, The Decree on the Protection of Nature (צו בדבר הגנה על הטבע) (Military Order no. 363) gave similar authority to the occupying military, and criminalized foraging in the OPT. Military orders are enforced by military courts, whereas offenders in "Israel" go through civil courts.

Several plants were already on the list of protected natural values at this time, but they were not commonly foraged for food. 1977 proved a signal year in this regard: with the "Proclamation of National Parks and Nature Reserves" [אכרזת גנים לאומיים ושמורות טבע (ערבי טבע י מוגנים), תשל״ח -1977], Minister of Agriculture Ariel Sharon (אריאל שרון) added za’tar ("אזוב מצוי") and maryamiyya ("מרוה משולשת") to the list. The inclusion of these plants, and especially za'tar, was more disastrous and insulting than previous bans on foraging had been. Za'tar, besides being a source of food and income for many poor or disabled Palestinians, has immense cultural significance in Palestine.

Arab Palestinians—and only Arabs—were arrested, fined, and even imprisoned, with no clear correspondence between the amount they had foraged and their sentencing. Most of the recorded court cases in "Israel" deal with za'tar, though court cases in legal databases show that Palestinians were also fined and tried for foraging maryamiyya (FN 38). An atmosphere of intimidation prevailed, with many habitual foragers feeling newly afraid to leave their homes.

In 1998, a new National Parks, Natural Reserves, National Sites and Memorial Sites Law [חוק גנים לאומיים, שמורות טבע, אתרים לאומיים ואתרי הנצחה, תשנ"ח-1998] replaced the prior National Parks law (of 1992, which had itself replaced the aforementioned 1963 law). It removed the necessity for an ecological council to approve the Minister's declaration of a "protected" status, and increaed the maximum prison time for a violation of the law to three years. Throughout all periods, however, the penalty usually imposed has been a fine.

Since the imposition of the harsher law, two notable updates have been made to the list of protected plants: the 2005 list of Protected Natural Assets) [אכרזת גנים לאומיים, שמורות טבע, אתרים לאומיים ואתרי הנצחה (ערכי טבע מוגנים), התשס״ה–2005] replaced the 1979 list, and added عَكُوب ('akoub; "עכובית הגלגל"), a culturally important and commonly foraged thistle. [1] Za'tar and maryamiyya remained on the list. The 2005 declaration also specifies that the species on the list are protected if they are wild, but not if they are cultivated (section 3). This provision allows Israeli farmers to profit from the farming and sale of za'tar.

The second notable update came in 2019: the Nature and Parks Authority (שרשות הטבע והגנים) announced that it would redact the absolute ban on harvesting za'tar, maramiyya, and 'akoub, instead setting a maximum allowable amount for household consumption and cracking down on the sale of these plants, rather than on foraging itself.

Activists believe this partial measure to have occurred as a result of legal and public pressure instigated by an open letter which human rights lawyer Rabea Eghbariah sent the Israeli Attorney General and Environmental Protection Minister requesting that za'tar, 'akkoub, and maryamiyya be removed from the "protected" list in advance of their foraging seasons, noting the inconsistency in sentencing and the law's disproportionate criminalization of Palestinians. (The specific cultural importance of these three plants is attested by the fact that they, among the dozens of species considered "protected," form the basis of Eghbariah's complaint.) The Nature and Parks Authority (NPA), however, insisted that an independent assessment, and not public criticism, had led them to announce the change in policy. And fines levied at Palestinian foragers did continue despite the announced change in policy, at least through March 2020.

Nor is the change complete in scope, even if it were being upheld. Eghbariah notes that "It is not yet clear if the change will also apply [in the West Bank] - and there it is a parallel system, less transparent and much more predatory. The enforcement is much worse, including the confiscation of cars, and the judgment is in a military court. We will continue to monitor."

[1] Eghbariah writes that the "Protected Natural Values Declaration (Amendment No. 2) (Judea and Samaria), 1978" added za'tar and maramiyya to the list in the OPT, and the "Protected Natural Values Declaration (Amendment No. 2) (Judea and Samaria), 2004" added 'akoub. I have been unable to find or independently verify the text of either declaration. From a list of secondary legislation related to military orders, I believe the declaration being amended is "הכרזה בדבר ערכי טבע מוגנים (יהודה והשומרון), התשל"ג - 1973".

[ID: Light shone through a blue glass vase is cast over the bundle of sage and glass of tea. End ID]

"Preservation" and Green Colonialism

Of course, Palestinians and activists also suspect that the underlying purpose of the ban is to starve and intimidate Palestinians, rather than any real concern with nature. Israeli botanist Nativ Dudai points out that foraging causes much less harm to these plants than Israeli bulldozers do. Samir Naamneh, who sells foraged produce, also dismisses the environmentalist excuse for the ban on foraging:

We feel, and we know, and we’re sure, that the laws are made, on principle, against the Arab residents of the country, to hurt their livelihoods. It’s part of the pressure that Israel puts on us to starve us out.

The 1977 decision to add za'tar and maryamiyya to the protected plants list was ostensibly taken in accordance with a report submitted by a group of Israeli ecologists, which suggested that the species were in danger due to over-foraging. However, Israeli forager Yatir Sade (יתיר שדה) suggests that the converse may be true, and that the people who wrote the report might have taken their cues from the government.

On June 20, 1977, the inauguration of the Begin (בגין) Cabinet marked the first time that a right-wing party had held a majority in the Knesset; this dramatic change in Israeli politics would come to be called "המהפך" ("HaMahapakh"), "the revolution" or "the upheaval."

Sade's research reveals that, about a week later, on June 27, 1977, a team of ecologists at the NPA submitted a list of species to the Legal Bureau at the Ministry of Agriculture (משרד החקלאות), suggesting that they be declared protected. The list is accompanied by a letter of legal advice signed by a partner in the law firm Reva, Shein, Katz & Co. This initial suggested list did not include four species which would end up on the final 1977 list, all of them important culinary and medicinal herbs among Palestinians and Bedouin Arabs: babonj (בבונג / بابونج / golden chamomile), maryamiyya, za'tar, and ss'atr barriyy (صعتر بري / קורנית מקורקפת / Persian hyssop). [1]

But about four months later, on October 16, another letter was sent on behalf of the same law firm, requesting that these four species be added to the "protected" list, and that the standard procedure for adding them be expedited. Accordingly, on November 2, only a few days after receiving the letter, the Minister's office published the final declaration, with golden chamomile, maryamiyya, za'tar, and Persian hyssop newly added. The new Minister of Agriculture Ariel Sharon (אריאל שרון), part of the First Begin Cabinet and co-founder, with Menachem Begin, of the right-wing party HaLikud (הליכוד), signed the new declaration. It therefore seems likely that these plants were added to the list for political reasons and precisely because of their importance to Palestinian Arabs, rather than from any ecological concern.

It is also relevant that the 1963 and 1998 laws which criminalized foraging also laid out guidelines for the creation of national parks, nature reserves, and military and state memorial land. The text of the 1998 law, in particular, describes the goals behind creating these sites, and gives the council it establishes the authority to do anything necessary to promote those goals. These goals include to "protect natural and heritage sites" ("הגן על ערכי הטבע והמורשת"); to "maintain international scientific relations" in the field of nature conservation ("קיים קשרים מדעיים בין-לאומיים") ; to promote education about conservation among youth and students (7. (א)); and to promote travel and tourism (14. (א)).

Many discourses and strategies can here be seen operating together. The creation of nature reserves, state heritage sites, and military memorial land all within the text of the same law explicitly connects environmentalism to patriotism; creates special reasons for bringing land under state control, and imposing special codes of behavior on this land (i.e., natural and heritage sites); connects environmentalism to state ownership and control of land, and connects both to the education of youth and the creation of the ideal Israeli civic subject; uses environmentalism to promote Israel internationally as a scientific authority, a responsible steward of land (unlike the indigenous population), and thus a legitimate state; and sanitizes and 'advertizes' Israel internationally by associating sites of destruction, annexation, and ethnic cleansing with the concepts of environmental protection, natural beauty, preservation, and heritage.

Israel frequently declares land a "nature reserve" as a method of annexation, only to later build settlements on it (see Karimi-Schmidt p. 369 ff). Palestinians are forbidden from foraging certain plants within nature reserves (other plants are forbidden for foraging everywhere), and from constructing on them; they are thus alienated from this land, and dissociated from the ways in which they have long related to it. Yatir Sade points out that the four plants added to the original 1977 draft of the protected species list are typically harvested out in open areas, rather than within yards and villages; declaring these areas nature reserves, or arresting Arabs who enter them under suspicion of foraging, prevents Palestinians from moving freely, and from claiming any connection to the land. [3]

The "Green Patrol" (HaSayeret HaYeruka / הסיירת הירוקה), the enforcement unit for the NPA, was founded in 1976 by then-Minister of Agriculture Aharon Ozan and director of the Israel Land Administration Meir Zore, for the specific purpose of policing "open areas" (שטחים פתוחים) which had been declared state land, and preventing Palestinians from "tresspassing" ("הסגות גבול") or illegally building in these areas. [4] Through these strategies, land is appropriated for the state's and settlers' purposes under the guise of environmentalism.

In much the same way, the list of protected species is ultimately about using environmental science to cement state authority. Irus Braverman points out that endangered species lists function as a means of regulation, not least by being ostensibly objective: "their global power, mobility, and ubiquity derive from their configuration as scientific, technical, and quantitative, and therefore as neutral and apolitical." The protected species list thus joins other "environmental infrastructures," such as renewable energy and agricultural technologies, as a "mechanism[] for land appropriation and dispossession" of the indigenous population: together, these infrastructures make up a strategy that is alternately called greenwashing, green grabbing, and green colonialism.

[1] Letter regarding the declaration of national parks and nature reserves (protected natural values), 1977, from Ofir Katz to Tovi R. [מכתב בנושא אכרזת גנים לאומיים ושמורות טבע (ערכי טבע מוגנים) תשל"ז-1977, מאופיר ��ץ לטובי ר'], 6/27/1977. In: Proclamation of National Parks and Nature Reserves (Protected Natural Values), Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Development [אכרזת גנים לאומיים ושמורות טבע (ערכי טבע מוגנים), משרד החקלאות ופיתוח הכפר], January 1965–October 1982. State Archives, ISA-moag-moag-00119qy, pp. 164-175.

[2] Letter regarding a proposal to declare national parks and nature reserves (protected natural values), 1977, from Ofir Katz to Tovi R., [מכתב בנושא הצעה לאכרזת גנים לאומיים ושמורות טבע (ערכי טבע מוגנים) תשל"ז-1977] 10/24/1977. In: Proclamation of National Parks and Nature Reserves (Protected Natural Values), Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Development, January 1965–October 1982. State Archives, ISA-moag-moag-00119qy, p. 160.

[3] Yatir Sade, Master's thesis, pp. 68-9. Personal communication.

[4] Sade points out that Yehuda Reva (יהודה רווה), another partner of the law firm that provided legal advice on the matter of the 1977 protected species list, was also prominent in helping the Green Patrol expropriate Palestinian land and property within the bounds of Israeli law (Master's thesis, p. 44, FN 34).

Foraging and Food Sovereignty

The disastrous effect of these strategies and regulations should not be understated—but nor should their power to control Palestinians' behavior be overstated. Palestinians reference specific plants in writing and in art (including ceramics and tatreez), bring dried herbs to family members abroad, purchase or grow important culinary plants wherever they live in the diaspora, and continue to forage plants despite harassment and the risk of fines and arrest. Plants are an important way of symbolizing, and of practicing, resistance, resilience, and rootedness in history and in the land.

Foraging can be a strategy of reconnection in defiance of dispossession. Rochelle Davis notes that Palestinians often visit the villages from which they were displaced in order to gather grape leaves and herbs, “ingesting the place by consuming the land’s produce” (p. 172). Through this practice, as Anne Meneley puts it, "[e]ating becomes an act of momentary repossession."

The message boards on PalestineRemembered.com attest to this practice. When Mouttaz Ammoura returned to الطيرة (Al-Tira), the village from which his family was displaced, he noted maramiyya as the one plant he brought back with him:

Now I live in Canada, but far-away from AL-TIRA. When I came back, I brought with me some sand, maramieh, few stones, & water from Tirat Haifa. Yes, I brought all of that to remember al-Tira & to have it close to my hart back in Canada.

In an interview conducted in a Palestinian refugee camp in 1998, women demonstrate this same association of plant life with place:

They spoke of the names of land plots around ~ Tjzim (Wadi al-Nahel, Durat al-Qamar, Shana), and the act of naming evoked an aura of magic for those who remembered the places [...]. They also related to the wild plants. The women, who felt we had shifted to familiar ground, called out the names — khubeize (mallow), ‘aqub (tumble thistle), maramiyyeh (sage), za’atar (thyme).

Mirna Bamieh's Palestine Hosting Society put on an Edible Wild Plants Table, which registered the connection of foraging to place, local knowledge, and temporality. The project, which focused on "identifying the names, forms, locations and availability of wild plants in Palestine’s nature," involved a menu created from foraging in the mountainous regions of Palestine during the blooming season "from mid-January until the end of February."

Foraging is also one strategy among many that Palestinians use—alongside instituting agricultural innovations, creating native seed banks, educating about Palestinian cuisine, and seeking out contracts with foreign markets—to attain food self-sufficiency and sovereignty. It is therefore both a symbolically defiant strategy, and a practical one. Palestinians illustrate a belief in the illegitimacy of Israel's laws and claims, and insist on the primacy of their relationship to the land, when they forage for food.

When asked whether he believed that 2020 would bring the promised relaxation in criminalization of foragers, Samir Naamneh, who has been repeatedly fined, arrested, and tried over the past decades, told Dror Foyer (דרור פויר):

"We'll live and see, but it won't change anything for me: whether it's allowed or not, I'm going to forage. I do the work I love, and I'm at peace with myself. The fact that I'm making a statement to the State of Israel and their law—that's enough for me."

Donate to an evacuation fund

Donate eSims

Palestinian heirloom seeds

Ingredients:

250g filtered water

2.5g (1 1/2 tsp) high-quality loose leaf black tea

4g (1 1/2 Tbsp) dried three-lobed sage, or substitute another variety of sage

Sugar, to taste (optional)

Dried three-lobed sage can be purchased from a Palestinian brand such as Al-'Ard or Yaffa (not "Jaffa").

Instructions:

1. Combine tea with just-boiled water and steep for two minutes.

2. Add sage and steep for another minute.

3. Pour into tea glasses and serve hot.

Times and quantities are geared towards producing a tea that is mild enough to be enjoyed without sugar. Adjust as per preference.

[jamiedc-they-them]

Blood and Water (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: "can i request a Stilgar x child reader? basically Child reader (8 years old) escapes into the desert with their parents because the harkonens are hutning them down, (reader and their parents left the city because readers parents found a weak spot in the citys foundation that can lead to a rebellion or something like that), the harkonens catch up and readers parents stay behind to give reader time to escape, child reader does and escapes into the rocky mountains but one harkonen catches the reader and thats when Stilgar saves child reader and he is instantly protective of this little child and starts acting like a father to child reader.

if that is okay!!"

AN// Hi Anon! I hope you enjoy this piece! It's quite a long one and spiralled into it tying into Dune Parts I and II, but the central focus is still Stilgar and R's bond! I also had Chani be there as well due to the Tribe as a whole. Thank you for the request! <3

SPOILERS FOR DUNE PART II

Your parents raised you well. They taught you about the Harkonnens and their violent oppression of you and your people. They told you, as well, about the Fremen – in terms of different beliefs and territories.

You were young, about 8 when they died. You were forced to flee when your parents were discovered. Word got to them from friends, but you weren’t quick enough. Your mother held your hand tightly as you ran, your father already had stayed behind. But, despite your age, you know what it means that the Harkonnen’s are still behind you.

He’s died.

Your mother gets you to an exit, a small gap you used to crawl through when younger with friends. Friends you haven’t seen in a while. Maybe they’re dead, too.

“You have to go,” your mother tells you, cupping your face in her hands, “you have to live.”

“What about you?” You ask back, tears running down your face.

Your mother wipes your tears, “do not shed your water, my child,” she says, “not even for the dead.”

“Will – will I see you —?” You don’t get to answer your question, as a knife is stabbed through your mother’s chest. You fall back, on instinct diving through the hole in the wall. A hand grabs you, you just about escape the grip.

You’re out now. Out of a Arrakeen and in the desert itself. You immediately feel the heat, not used to being exposed to it so bluntly.

You hear something above you, an Ornithopter. You can’t outrun these, you’ve seen how fast they can go.

Still, as fast your legs will take you, you run. You run for all the worth that your water has.

You don’t even feel the vibrations on the sand at first. To you, it’s just the vibrations from the Ornithopter above. That is, until you hear it. The low shriek of your god. Of Shai-Hulud, bursting out of the sand, and taking the Ornithopter down.

You don’t even realise how far you have actually made it, making it a rocky hill. Your distraction of the Sandworm appearing means that you don’t see the Harkonnen’s still chasing you on foot, and you find yourself being tackled to the floor. You feel your head hit something, and the world becomes a blur. You try and fight back, but with the disorientation alongside your age and size, you can only wait for the end.

Maybe some Fremen can find some use with your water, maybe that would be useful in some way.

You get your wish, sort of.

You hear voices, and clashing of blades. Then, for a moment, silence.

You fade in and out. You feel yourself being carried.

When you reopen your eyes, you’re in what your parents told you is a Sietch. You never thought you’d see one.

“Calm, child. Calm,” you hear a voice say. You look over, seeing man much older than one you have ever seen. He wears a robe, eyes blue. His voice is deep, but soft in this case, “you are safe now. You are safe.”

You look around your area, seeing no one else, but beds are here all the same.

The man seems to see your silent question, “I brought you here to rest peacefully.”

You nod, thankful in a way.

The man gets up, he holds a hand out to you, “when you are ready, join us.”

He leaves after that. You sit in your bed. You feel the emotion inside of you for the losses you have just gone through, through everything that just occurred so quickly.

But, your mother was right, don’t waste your water. You can grieve for them by fighting back. By continuing it.

You join the man, but instead find this place filled to the brim with other people. Other Fremen. Some dressed differently than others, but maybe that was just the difference between the north and south Fremen tribes your parents told you about. You never fully understood how they knew this though, given that you lived (lived is a strong word, more like just about survived) in the city under the thumb of the Harkonnen’s.

The people stop, and stare at you.

You hear a girl clear her throat, she looks at you – almost doing calculations in her mind – before turning to the group, “Stilgar,” she calls out.

The crowd part as the man from before, now known to you as Stilgar, approaches you.

“Are you well, child?”

You nod. He does as well.

“Come. Chani,” the girl who was looking at you before looks to Stilgar, “fetch the child some food, please?”

She nods, silently going to do so.

Stilgar puts a hand on your shoulder, “come child. There is a lot to discuss.”

Despite your young age, he treats you like a person rather than a young child. Part of you likes that.

He takes you to a corner as everyone starts to eat. Chani hands you some food, before going to join her friends.

“Don’t mind Chani,” Stilgar says, “she is weary of new-comers. She will ease to you with time.”

You nod. You know it’s supposed to be comforting, but it just once again reminds you of your parents.

Stilgar sighs, putting his bowl down and looking at you, “you will be safe with us.”

“My parents…their water…”

“Arrakeen is not a place so easily entered. But, if we can, we shall try and retrieve what we can. We did that with the Harkonnen’s you had following you. It was contaminated, but it does still have uses.”

You nod, at least they got something out of this.

“Why were you so close to the city?”

Stilgar is impressed. Young, but inquisitive.

“We did not mean to be,” he admits, “we heard commotion, and saw Shai-Hulud, so followed and found you.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank us. You are Fremen, we are all equal here.”

You look around at these people, your people. You are such a small part of a massive place.

“My parents fought back against the Harkonnen’s,” Stilgar nods, seemingly knowing this, “do you think I could help?”

He smiles and nods, “we will show you the ways of the desert.”

He does. They all do. Chani starts to learn how to fight, and so Stilgar has her be the one who teaches you the most. You’re both decently close in age, so it allows you both to know someone else as well in the tribe.

Stilgar also teaches you about the prophecy and legends that are more so within the southern tribes. About Lisan Al-Giab (or “The Voice From the Outer World”). One who will come down and lead you all to victory and bring Arrakis back to glory.

You notice more about the divide between the North and South tribes in regards to this one time when you are training with Chani:

“Stilgar keeps telling me about the Lisan Al-Giab,” you say, as you and Chani lock training blades.

“It’s superstition. A prophecy all about control and imbalance. A story.”

“How can you be so sure?” You don’t entirely believe it yourself – despite the hope it can give you sometimes, that all this isn’t for nothing – and yet you find yourself defending your closest companion here despite that.

Even Chani notices that within you, “how can you be that you this person will show up?”

It stays with you. However, despite that, you remain close to Stilgar. He teaches you all he can, both through action – like helping you craft your Cysknife or learning the ways to traverse the Dunes without alerting the Worms – and words – telling you about the Fremen ways and legends passed down through time.

He makes sure you’re fed, and always helps you with your Stillsuit, making sure it is secure. If he has to fix something with it, he explains what the error is. With food and water, if he has any spare, he gives it to you. He’s a guiding figure in your life. He is the one who took you in after all. He’s taught you all he’s known. He’s given you something you once thought lost:

A family.

That family all cheers for you when you successfully ride a Sandworm on your own. It’s not massive, but it’s big enough. Stilgar hugs you tightly, and proudly proclaims you as his child, and a sibling of the tribe. The tribe had always teased him for the fatherly ways he had with you, but now it was done in a genuine way. They all celebrate you that night.

Before you know it, several years have gone by. You have fought back how you can. Sometimes big things, like destroying Carryall’s or Harvesters in big assaults, or by eliminating a squad of Harkonnen’s.

Stilgar, as time goes on, still holds that protectiveness, but also knows you can hold your own. You’re equal. Father and child, working in sync, both learning from each other – him in terms of your creativity and your thoughts on the planet and plans (being equals, all opinions are taken in, but your ones are ones they listen to more). For you, it’s learning how to survive and about your people and the history of this planet. Sometimes it's found by what other Fremen have left behind, sometimes it’s stories from him.

Then you all meet someone new: Paul and Jessica Atreides.

Stilgar looks to you and Chani – you’re weary of this outsider, but if he wins against Jamis, then he has earned his place.

“Why did I never have to fight?” You asked Stilgar as Jamis and Paul prepare.

“Because, I took you as my charge,” Stilgar answers, “you were my child when I chose that. I am also Niab, no one could challenge me on it, either.”

You don’t waste your water, but he can tell it has meaning to you. He just gives a nod.

Paul wins his battle. You don’t acknowledge it until it’s too late, but you feel something shift within your father.

At first, Paul and Jessica follow you for mere survival. But, things soon start to change, especially Jamis’ water is collected. Jessica drinks the water of life and…survives; and Paul starts picking up on more and more Fremen techniques like they were his own.

Stilgar starts to drift away from you. He still cares about you and checks in with you everything, but you can feel him pulling away.

Even Chani, your closest friend in the tribe, begins to pull away. But, she doesn’t believe as much within Lisan Al-Giab as she does instead Paul himself and his ability to help you all

One night, when you sit on a Dune, looking out at your home planet, she joins you.

“Something’s different, Chani,” you confess.

“I know,” she says, “but they can help us.”

“Your love for Paul blinds you.”

“And your loyalty to Stilgar blinds you.”

“We are Fremen, Chani. We are family and tribe. He is — he is not.”

“He will be Fremen. Tomorrow.”

You don’t hate Paul, he’s listened to you and helped you – it’s Jessica, the Bene Gesserit Witch, that you don’t trust. She’s pulling strings, you just can’t see them.

“I’m sorry,” you say to your best friend, “I’m not angry at you.”

“I know,” she says, “I’m not angry at your or Stilgar. Well, maybe Stil a little,” you chuckle a bit, “but, he loves you, Y/N. He loves all of us. He’s our Niab, he won’t let anything happen to us.”

You nod, “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

Chani understands your concerns but doesn’t voice them (she wishes she did later).

The night before Paul’s Sandworm test, you go and find Stilgar.

“What troubles you, child?” He asks. Despite being in your teens now, he still refers to you that way. A reminder of the home you always have with him.

“I’m worried for Paul,” and you, you want to say, but can’t find it in yourself to say it.

Stilgar nods, “I am too. But, I was when I also sent you out on your own ride, and the other tests. But, you survived, and so shall he.”

“How can you be sure?”

“He is Lisan Al-Giab.”

“But I am not.”

His eyes dart to you, “no, you are not. You are my child. You have my knowledge, but your own strength. It was why you have survived.”

Despite the growing distance, you smile at his words.

The day of Paul’s ride comes, and even your eyes widen at the size of the worm. Even you cheer when he masters it in the end. Even you, for a moment, believe. But, you then look to your father, and how wide his eyes are. How taken he is by this legend, by the faith he had in this story; in what the rewards would be in the end.

Your smile dims a bit.

Paul wants revenge? Understandable, so do you for your parents and all other fallen Fremen – but, with the influence Paul is having over your tribe, with the followers he is gathering and the army he is building up in his name alone of Maud’dib  - or, more importantly, Lisan Al-Giab – it scares you. You want freedom and revenge, but you also want to know what would be next. This freedom is for your people, not Paul. He’s even reuniting with people, Gurney Halleck, a brilliant fighter and musician. But, once again, another outsider. This one not even proving himself, just following.

And then you find the old cache of Atreides atomic weapons. A weapon you thought banned in the universe. And yet, here you are, capturing them for you own use.

You don’t know who to turn to with your worries, your fears. Everyone has been taken in by Paul and Jessica, even Gurney. Chani, you don’t know if she is completely blinded by her love, but she hasn’t voiced anything to you yet, so you can’t be sure.

For the first time since you were 8 and on the run, you feel alone. Totally alone.

Or, not totally alone, as Chani slaps Paul as soon as he wakes after drinking from the Water of Life, and the only person she looks to is you before she leaves. She’s as alone as you are. Two people caught up in this madness.

The straw that breaks you is the Southern Tribes being forced to meet after Sietch Tabr falls. You’re glad your father gets to live, don’t get that misunderstood – but you aren’t sure if the person you are begging to see reason and stop what Paul is about to do is the man who took you in and gave you a family and a home all those years ago. You plead, even shouting “father!” To him loudly, startling the other Fremen and even almost getting yourself kicked out. It’s Gurney, of all people, who pull you down alongside Chani.

“Stay hidden, and stay quiet,” he tells you both. Chani removes his hand from your arm.

“This has nothing to do with you,” Chani spits to him.

According to him though, with his thirst for revenge, and a scar he was given, it has everything to do with him.

Paul is declared leader, officially becoming Lisan Al-Giab – all you and Chani can do is dispear and look on in horror.

When it comes to the battle plans, Paul interrupts you before you can even speak, telling you:

“I do like the idea, Y/N, I am glad you told it to me,” his vision must’ve shown him your ideas. Thus, in the meeting, you are left to be mute.

You play your role, just being in the mix of the soldiers. Everything the tribe has taught you with combat and awareness coming into play. It helps you focus. You don’t have any training of a Bene Gesserit witch, but you have your methods.

You picture each Harkonnen you kill being the ones who murdered your parents. You like to image all their water being embraced by Shia-Hulud and the sand.

You win. And all it comes down to is Paul vs Feyd-Rautha. Despite your fears, this is all your efforts have led to. You want Paul to win, but a lesser evil is still evil.

Paul does. Barely, but he wins. You see Chani’s relief. Your father proclaims once more that Paul is Lisan Al-Giab, and kneels. Everyone else follows, even the Emperor after kissing Paul’s ring.

Only yourself, Chani, and Princess Irulan stay standing.

Paul looks to you both, respect and something else in his eyes when he looks to you.

You look to your father, seeing him begging with his eyes for you to kneel. You see the horror there of what could happen to you. The care he shows once again there, but it’s too late now.

Your mind is already made up, however. Whatever happens, it will be because of your choices. Not faith. Not some false hope.

“You will come back,” Paul says, “one day, you will.”

You leave. Chani leaves after you.

You keep walking, ignoring Chani calling after you.

You love her, you do. She’s your best friend and sister. You love Stilgar, he’s your father. But you can’t be around this. You can’t sit and watch this ‘Holy War’ go on. You may be a victim of it due to your leaving. You don’t care.

You’re an orphan once again, it seems. Cast away to the unforgiving deserts of Dune. You’ve just traded in one ruler for another.

You hope you’re wrong. You don’t think you are, but you hope you are.

And maybe Paul is right; maybe one day, you will return.

But not today. And not for many more days.

You’ll see your father again though, you’re sure of that.

In one world, or the other.

So, you thank the Maker and bless them for Stilgar and the family it brought you, and then get your hooks ready and place a thumper of your own down and wait.

Wait to ride off to your next destination.

As far away from Arrakeen as you can possibly get.

You don’t shed a tear. You don’t waste your water. Not even for the dead, metaphorically or otherwise.

[sunnys-day]

What the Mountain Provides

I have been binge watching Outsiders, the show from 2016 with Joe Anderson, Ryan Hurst, and Kyle Gallner, and was dismayed to learn it was canceled after only TWO seasons. Now I love Supernatural, it's one of my comfort shows, but if I could trade a couple seasons of it for new seasons of Outsiders, I would.

Well of course this news was disappointing but I figured I could read the fanfic that surely followed suit. Even Kyle made a tweet about it. However, I'm finding that stories are few and far between. Sasil seems to be the main type and while I love the ship and the characters, I also have a love for reader inserts or other OCs. So I guess the only thing I can do is write my own... without further ado here's my first Outsiders Fanfic. At the moment it's a one shot but because it's me, it will more than likely become a multi-chapter. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

What the Mountain Provides

Pairing: Asa Farrell x Female OC

Words: 2550

Warnings: Slight Spoiler, Swearing, Talk of death and dying

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Summary: {set after Asa shoots Big Foster} Asa finds himself being taken care of by a young woman from his childhood.

There hadn’t been a set plan when he’d come back down the mountain. All he knew was he could never go back home and the pain that hit him was like a shot to the heart. At first, he tried telling himself to just hop a train and go wherever life took him, but the wolves descending told him that this was the end of the line for him. He couldn’t have G’win, he’d killed Big Foster, and he couldn’t see the light at the end of this tunnel. Perhaps he should’ve pulled the trigger that night rather than return to the mountain; maybe things wouldn’t have gotten so bad at home. Sure, the coal company was still a problem, but the internal war that was waged… was that all his fault? Was he cursed? Had he brought some sort of evil back home with him?

At least giving himself to the wolves would provide sustenance for the creatures. Perhaps they’d even carry parts of him back up the mountain. His spirit might not be fully at peace scattered about, but did he deserve peace at all? Standing, facing the three predators, he resigned himself to death, closing his eyes and holding his arms out as though he were embracing a friend... but then the sound of soft humming reached his ears, and he could see the soft light of first morning behind his eyelids, the smell of coffee and bacon assaulting his nostrils, and when he reached down, his hand was met with the softness of nice sheets.

The humming became softer, but he could tell the person behind the noise was coming closer, and he managed to crack one eye open as the door slowly opened. When the owner of the voice and the room came into view, his breath suddenly caught in his throat. She reminded him of summertime on the mountain; her hair shimmered like the soft glow of a summer evening, kissed by the sun, yet cool as the pale beams of a full moon; a gentle fusion of warmth and ethereal light, a tapestry of blonde that seemed almost otherworldly in its delicate brilliance. She had a fae-ish look about her, and all of the stories his kin would tell of the Fae didn’t seem so farfetched after setting eyes on her… and then she smiled at him, and he was positive this must be some kind of heaven because he was certainly looking at an angel.

“Glad ta see you awake.”

She had the same accent as most folks around here, but hers sounded closer to music than simple conversation, and it was taking his brain a second longer than usual to realize that this wasn’t a hallucination and he wasn’t dead. The woman waited for a moment before stepping closer, the tray of food held out in front of her, and he could see that she was being cautious but was unsure what the caution was aimed towards. Was she afraid of him? Possibly, but he didn’t think she’d bring him… wherever they were if that was the case. He was so lost in his head that it didn’t register that he was full-on staring at her, his eyes tracking her every move, but if she was bothered by it, she didn’t say anything. Simply placed the tray on the bedside table and stepped back to give him space.

“I hope you like bacon. I wasn’t sure if you ate meat, but figured it was a pretty safe bet since most folks around here do. If I got it wrong, I’ve got something else I can make ya. Got some cinnamon rolls coolin' in the kitchen if you’ve got a sweet tooth or”

“This is fine. Thanks.”

She gave him a small nod, and while she wanted to ask him about a million questions, she didn’t want to overwhelm him. When she’d found him, he’d been delirious, screaming about wolves coming to devour his soul. He didn’t swing at her or react violently when she helped him to his feet, but he’d sobbed the entire way to her truck, asking if she was the angel of death and muttering about the mountain never allowing his spirit to rest. It would be considered odd if she hadn’t been raised in the area; her mother and Meemaw taught her that as long as you respected the mountain and the magic within it, it would bless you and keep you safe. When she’d hit her 20s and gone to college, she’d tried writing it all off as superstitions, but since being back she’d seen things she couldn’t explain. Fae playing in her garden, shapeshifters at her back door, her name being called while hiking… she wasn’t sure if this type of magic only resided within the Appalachians or not, but she’d spent the past 12 years learning how to work with that magic and lived a peaceful life. Something she didn’t think her guest could relate to.

“I’ll leave ya to it then.”

She turned to leave when he reached out and grabbed her wrist, causing her to pause and turn back to look at him. She was close enough that he was given a better look at her and was mesmerized by her eyes: one hazel and one blue. She had full lips and a slightly upturned nose, and for the first time in a long time, his thoughts weren’t stuck on G’win.

“What’s your name?”

“Ivy Rae Calloway.” She could see the glimmer of recognition but didn’t think he could fully place her. “You can call me Ivy.”

“Asa. Asa F-”

“Farrell. I know.” He was caught off guard by her knowing, at the very least, his last name. Most people in this town had a hatred for his kin, but she didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. “My Meemaw used ta be friendly with your Bren’in. I’d go up with her from time ta time. You taught me how ta swim.”

He searched his memories for this lovely woman and stumbled upon a memory of him at 12, a 10-year-old blonde girl chasing after him and begging him to teach her how to swim. He’d refused at first, having better things to do than befriend a townie, but he told her he’d help if she could keep up, and she had. Even when he’d purposely taken a difficult trail to the pond, she was right on his heels, and by the end of the day, they were well and truly friends. Whenever she’d come with her Meemaw, the two of them would go off on some adventure, often with a few of his cousins in tow. They’d spent five summers running all over the mountain, and he was ashamed to say he’d forgotten all about her. He’d recognized the name when Lady Ray had mentioned her in passing but didn’t truly remember until this moment.

“I heard tell you moved.”

“For a little bit. I went ta college for a few years, but it wasn’t for me; I was back home by 23. Things I learned from my ma and Meemaw have done more for me than anything I learned in university anyhow.”

That was something he could relate to: college and the outside world not being for you. He’d tried it for ten years, but the mountain called him home, and now he was wondering if she had something to do with that. At first, he assumed G’win was the pull he’d felt, but with how things worked out on that front, he had his doubts. Ivy though… he didn’t believe in love at first sight, but there was definitely something special about her.

“I know the feelin.”

“I know ya do.” She smiled softly but didn’t expand on the statement. “I’ll let ya eat in peace.”

He gave her a thin smile, but the way he tucked into the food was thanks enough for her. She had no idea why the mountain had placed Asa in her path but she knew better than to ignore such a blatant sign. She’d sent offerings to the spirits, praying that they’d send someone her way so she didn’t have to be so alone. Her ma had been gone these past 4 years, the cancer took her too quickly, and if she hadn’t had her Meemaw, she didn’t think she’d have survived that… but there had been no one here when the older woman had passed. Ivy hadn’t understood what happened to her then, just that she hadn’t seen it coming. One morning, Meemaw woke up and told her she had to accompany someone important to her to the other side. She’d said similar things in the past, helping a spirit cross over, showing them to the light. As a death witch, it was her job to lead the lost souls to their final destination, so Ivy hadn’t batted an eye when she started talking like that. However, she hadn’t expected her Meemaw to walk into the forest and not back out. The police had found her body a mile from the Farrell homestead with no sign of trauma, and the coroner said she hadn’t had a heart attack or anything like that. For all intents and purposes, she fell asleep by the old oak and hadn’t woken up.

Ivy found out a week later that Lady Ray had passed on, and everything clicked into place. She had been her Meemaw’s best friend, and while they hadn’t visited the home in many years, the older women would often meet in the forest and spend the day swapping stories and sharing the bounty of whichever harvest they were in. Ivy had always loved their friendship and wished she’d had something like that; unfortunately, while Meemaw was Lady Ray’s best friend, that didn’t mean Ivy had been allowed to hang around the family. The moment they found she’d gone to college, they’d shunned her… if they only knew the reason behind her departure was the man currently eating in her guest room.

⸸

A couple of weeks passed, and Asa was finally beginning to relax around Ivy. Initially, he’d been so sure she’d end up treating him like everyone else, intimidated by the Farrell name, but she was at complete ease around him. She’d explained where she’d found him and the things he’d been saying, and he’d admitted to having hallucinated wolves. Ivy had listened to him talk about the things happening within his family and the coal company. It hurt her heart to hear about all that chaos weaving its way through the Farrell land, but she’d told him that it wasn’t his fault it had happened. She believed that Big Foster had been the one to set things in motion, the darkness in his heart tainting what she knew to be an important ceremony in their clan. His actions against Lady Ray only solidified, in her mind, that the mountain was now punishing the family for his actions. It didn’t sound like anyone was trying to make amends with the spirits, and one of the biggest things she’d been taught was never to disrespect the spirits and expect to be let off the hook.

“So, you’re tellin’ me that even after goin’ to college, you still believe in magic and all that?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Most townies don’t.”

“You callin' me a townie Asa Farrell?”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Their teasing tones showed how easily their friendship had picked back up. They fit so perfectly together, and it helped that Ivy was as honest as Li’l Foster; Asa wasn’t sure either of them was even capable of lying. She didn’t see any sense in spreading falsehoods or saying what you didn’t truly mean; all that got anybody was heartache, at least in her experience. They’d even played two truths and a lie, a way to get reacquainted, and her poker face was completely non-existent. It didn’t matter that her truths were things others would find insane, he knew she was being completely honest with him. She wasn’t raised as far in as he’d been, but Ivy was still a daughter of the mountain.

“Good. Now, I gotta go into town today… it’s not my favorite activity, but I’ve run outta flour and yeast and have a dozen or so loaves of bread ta bake by the end of the day. Wanna come with me?”

“I uh, I better not. It ain’t been that long since… I don’t wanna cause you no trouble.”

“Ain’t no trouble.”

“Ivy.”

He thought for sure she’d push this. G’win always did whenever she wasn’t getting her way, but Ivy just smiled and left it at that. The townsfolk weren’t exactly thrilled with her existence either, but the shit they’d say about the Farrells…

“No worries.”

“I don’t mean ta be callous or nothin'. I just”

“I get it, Asa. You ain’t gotta explain yourself ta me.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, besides, havin' you here gives me an even bigger reason to hurry.”

“Bein in town ain’t enough?”

“You might be surprised.”

He thought she sounded sad, and it wasn’t a tone he enjoyed hearing come from her. One of the best things about Ivy was her happy spirit. She was quick to smile, and though he’d seen her get cross at her vegetable garden, whenever he stepped into view, she lit up like a firefly.

“You alright?”

“I’ll be fine. Just been a little harder than usual after Meemaw passed on. Gets kinda lonely when I’m all by myself.”

“You’re not by yourself no more.”

“For now.” She shrugged, shaking herself out of this funk. “I’m sure you don’t wanna stay around these parts after everything.”

“At one time, I’d agree with you, but now… was thinkin’ about stickin’ around. If you don’t mind me crashin' in your guest room?”

“Not at all. You can stay forever if ya want.”

“I’m gonna hold ya to that.”

“I’m a woman of my word.” She promised, reaching her hand out and shaking on it. “Are you a man of yours?”

“I try ta be.” He answered honestly, surprising her when he gently yanked on her hand and pulled her into a hug. “Be careful today, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t know where these feelings were coming from, but he didn’t fight against them either, kissing the top of her head and refusing to overthink this. He hadn’t expected to find his savior in a fellow lostie, but he was thankful for it all the same. She also lived in the in-between, too mountainy for townsfolk and too townie for the mountain folks, but she didn't seem to loathe it like he did. Of course, he had a pretty damn good reason to feel the way he did. Unlike his kin, hers had welcomed her home and taught her in the old ways. He couldn't fault her for their different experiences though, and while she felt more strongly about the magic aspect of the mountain than he did, they still had a lot in common, and it didn’t hurt that she was damn pretty.

“You got a favorite candy or somethin?”

“Nah. Ain’t nothin' gonna compare to your cinnamon rolls anyway.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” She teased, going on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “See ya later, Asa.”

He watched her all the way from the kitchen to the front door, giving her a small wave as she left the house. The impossible had become possible: Asa Farrell had caught feelings for someone other than G’winveer.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 8: What Took You So Long

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader

Summary: Finding forever took forever. Now it’s time to slow it down.

Word Count: 3,414

Content/Warnings: moderate alcohol consumption, mildly negative self-talk, looking back on the past, poking fun, mild swears, entirely too much affection, learning to cook, mild allusions to adult fun times, pet name usage

A/N: hehehe, the thought of grocery shopping with a SO has been eating me up recently. Also, a good friend of mine thinks I’m becoming disillusioned to what real-life romance is like. Oops

Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo welcome and appreciated!!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Below is the song which inspired this chapter. Talk about sappy.

< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >

You and Ari were grocery shopping when it hit him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. A part of him had known the whole time, but this moment had really made it click.

You weren’t even looking at him, your eyes instead favoring the rows of produce, mentioning facts about how to determine when each fruit or vegetable was ripe. It was beautifully mundane, it was you sharing a little more of yourself and your wide breadth of knowledge he could never get over, and it was everything he ever wanted to love for the rest of time.

He was in awe of the way you moved through the aisles, your natural understanding of everything a person could possibly need, and how well you knew his preferences.

You pulled out spices, describing the dishes that utilize them. You explained the importance of salt, but not too much, and why a person could possibly need more than one kind. You walked him through different ways to make a balanced meal. The entire time, he was enthralled. He was completely taken by you and hung on to every word like it would save his life. Well, it sort of already did.

The two of you went to the checkout counter with your full cart, Ari pushing it as you began to load the items onto the belt.

Ari helped the cashier bag them up, and before he could even think to pull out his wallet, you’d already swiped your card. Ari cocked his head to the side, his long hair that peeked out from under his hat swaying. The ball cap looked so funny in juxtaposition to his ranger uniform, which he still wore as a product of you picking him up from work. His eyebrow raised as if to say ‘seriously?’

You smiled and shrugged as you took the receipt, skipping off in front of him as he pushed the cart out of the store and to your SUV. You slowed to allow him to catch up.

“You know I could’ve gotten that. These groceries are for my house, after all.” You laughed before reaching the car and pressing the button for the lift gate.

As the trunk began to open, Ari parked the cart and you felt arms wrap around you from behind. His beard bristled against your neck as he nestled in with his chin on your shoulder and kissed your cheek.

A soft smile remained on your face. “Consider it a gift. Welcome to independence, and official adulthood.”

He laughed into your hair. “Well it hardly counts as independence if you just took care of me. Swooping down to save the day again like the Angel you are. If you’re not careful, people are gonna think you’re my sugar mommy. Then I’m definitely not independent or much of a full-on grown-up.”

You rolled your eyes before turning around to start placing the bags into the trunk, keeping your head down doing your best to hide your blush at what Ari just said. You loved that he thought the world of you, and loving Ari like that was easy. Now, in terms of the sugar mommy comment, you both knew your job paid better, but neither had an issue with it, so any time it came up, he loved to joke like that, despite him having some savings from living so modestly.

Once you finished loading, you looked up into his sparkling eyes, creased with the smile he always wore when around you, finally replying. “I’ll give you sugar, you just have to wait until we’re home for it.”

You winked before giving him a chaste kiss, far too short for his liking, closing the trunk, and hopping up into the driver’s side, leaving Ari to return the cart.

When Ari returned to you, you started the car towards his cabin. You drove with one hand on the wheel, the other holding his over the center console. His thumb absent-mindedly stroked the back of your hand as Ari looked out the window, thinking about how he was going to pick out a ring.

Ari was finally losing his bachelor fridge. Gone were the days of it only housing lunch meat and beer.

You had just helped him finish putting away the new haul as he had gotten changed out of his uniform. Everything had a place and he had never seen the cabinets so full. You had a methodical system he really appreciated.

Ari’s hands were on your hips as he was about to set you on the counter before you stopped him, placing a hand on his chest.

“Wait, stop.”

He looked at you confused.

You removed your hand from his chest and held a pointer finger up. “One more thing. Gimme a sec. I left it in the car.”

You dipped under his arm that had you barricaded against the counter, running towards the front door and slipping on the first pair of shoes you saw, Ari’s massive boots clopping as you ran on the driveway. You opened up the back door of your car, looking under the seat to pull out a small package wrapped in brown paper and a twine bow.

You ran back in to where Ari was still standing there with his mouth agape, one hand on the countertop, the other on his hip. You cautiously crept towards him with the package tucked behind your back.

His face morphed into a suspicious smile. “Whatcha got there, Duchess?”

You giggled, toes meeting his as you looked up at his towering form. He made a move to reach behind your back before you quickly slid out of his reach.

“Ah ah ah, surprises are meant to be given, not stolen, ya little klepto. Now close your eyes.”

Ari’s head fell forward with a sigh before looking back at you through his eyelashes. “Fine.”

His eyelids fluttered shut as he held out his hands and you pulled the small package out from behind your back, carefully placing it.

“Okay, open.” Ari looked down at the brown paper intently.

“What is it? What’s the occasion? You already bought my groceries.”

He set it on the counter before propping you up onto the island like he had tried to before. You shrugged, your hands gripping the edge as your feet swung.

“Open it. I know we didn’t really discuss gifts or anything, but happy one year of me almost hitting you with my car.”

He laughed, picking it up again and untying the twine. “The first or second time?”

He knew which time. It was the first one. He marked the day as soon as he’d gotten home from your first coffee shop date, counting back the days to that fateful run-in on the mountain pass.

You kicked his thigh lightly before silently urging him to tear open the paper. It revealed a small cookbook.

“‘Cooking for Two?’ What-“ His eyes grew wide. “You’re not…” he looked around before ducking his head slightly and whispering. “Pregnant…are you?”

You shoved him back. “What!? No. No!”

You shook your head frantically. “Absolutely not. That is not what this means.”

The two of you were more than careful enough to make sure that didn’t happen—at least not right now. You’d made sure to find the right birth control and Ari took proper precautions on his end, as well.

You laughed uncomfortably before going silent. Ari let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay, that’s good- I mean, not that I wouldn’t….like, well, kids….um.”

You calmed him, placing both hands on his shoulders. “I-I get it trust me. I want kids, too someday, just not right now. It’s okay, we’re on the same page about that.”

He nodded and placed his head on your shoulder as your hand moved to stroke his hair.

“Thank you for understanding me. Where have you been all my life?” Seriously, he couldn’t believe that heaven ever let him find you.

You placed a kiss on his temple. “I was getting prepared to meet you.”

You leaned back to catch his gaze. “Now let me explain. This book, which is most definitely not a pregnancy cookbook, is because I’m hoping to start spending more dinners here now that you’re all stocked. As much as I love cooking for you, I think it’s important we both know how.”

You gestured your head to the single book that sat on the shelf in the corner of his kitchen. “Plus, I think you’ve earned an addition to the collection. You’ve graduated on to the next best thing. The pizza incident is a thing of the past.”

He shook his head reminiscing on the memory. “It’s not my fault you distracted me.”

You looked at him with feigned shock and disbelief as he leaned in for a kiss. “But as my present to you, let me cook you dinner?”

You nodded, leaning in to meet him. The kiss was soft and slow before it became needier. Ari tried pulling you close, his one arm falling from your waist down to your hip, the other still holding the book, before you placed your hand on his chest again, pushing him away.

“Nice try, Bear, but I’m starving. As much as I wanted to see where that kiss went, I want food more. Chop chop.”

You grabbed the other end of the book still sitting in your lap and gently raised it, pushing it towards his face and turning him towards the stove.

“You pick out a recipe while I get some drinks started for us. Sound good?”

As much as Ari would’ve grumbled at anyone else, he was happy to oblige you, flipping through the pages as you pulled out two glasses and began pouring.

Ari was so happy with the way you took over his space. Everywhere he looked, he saw you. Every room in the small shack had been filled with laughs and memories that filled his chest with warmth. Gone were the days that pained him to even look at the walls as the darkness seeped in. All that existed was light. It shined off of you and stayed reflecting off every surface, leaving an imprint of contentment in Ari’s brain, even when you weren’t here.

Ari leaned back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed as he simply watched you. Over the period of him preparing the meal that was nearly finished, you had changed into one of his old wildlife conservation hoodies he’d gotten from working a fundraiser.

You danced without a care in the world, swaying with your arms above your head to the music you had blasting through the small cabin. Your one hand held your second cocktail of the evening.

As much as Ari hated to, he had to pull his gaze off you for a second to check the roast on the stove. When he opened the pot lid, you caught a whiff of the truly delectable scent. The sweetness of carrots swirled with the seasoning blend over the braised beef.

You set your glass down on the island, dancing over to him and stepping up behind the wall of a man. No spanks in the kitchen was a long-standing rule, which was a shame for the sweatpants he was wearing, but nothing was ever contested about hugs.

Your arms snaked around his waist and up under the front of his shirt as you rested your cheek between his shoulder blades. You could feel the ripple of each muscle as his arms expertly maneuvered and he breathed steadily, it was like marble that moved. Yet, there was a softness to it, maybe from the sensation of the chest hair under your fingertips, maybe from the smell of the fabric softener he used. There was always a softness to Ari, especially around you.

He hummed, reaching to pull low-rimmed bowls down from the cabinet, serving up the meal and setting it aside before running his hands up his shirt to meet yours. He turned around and pulled your hands between the two of you, placing a kiss on each hand, right on the ring finger. Starting forever was at the forefront of his mind, unbeknownst to you.

“Ready to eat?”

You nodded with wide eyes, grabbing silverware and dancing over to the dining room as Ari followed with your meals, dancing along.

As the sun fell, you and Ari were still sitting at his dining room table. His small work-provided cabin didn’t offer much room to move around, but there was just enough for the two of you and you didn’t mind being cozy.

You were putting together a puzzle under the warm lighting, newly donned fuzzy socks on your feet that he’d tucked away as a surprise for this very special day, finally giving them to you after dinner.

The two of you moved quickly, but not hastily, as you passed Ari the outline pieces and you worked to piece together the internal scenery. Your movements were paired with witty banter and discussions about past lives. No matter how much time you spent together, you could never learn enough. You wanted to know everything.

“So that was the spring break I spent doing cleanup work for a tornado. It’s not like I had any plans otherwise besides going home, but my mom understood it was what I needed to do.”

Ari nodded along. He enjoyed learning about the road you took that led your hearts to each other. All the things you did with your hours and your minutes. Seriously, what didn’t you do? Even now you were constantly on the move, filling your schedule with valuable, enriching things. You chased your dreams even if they took you far away from your hometown. At least, that was how he saw it. How could you always find the time to be with him? To dedicate to him when you had so many other things on your plate?

He didn’t want to question it too much, though, for fear that you’d catch on and think he didn’t live up to how amazing you were. But Ari thought to himself more, realizing the good he really had done. What took him so long? Where had this version of him been all his life? You had awoken it in him. You had pushed him to become a better version of himself.

He was roused from his thoughts by your question. “So what about you? Ever do anything fun for spring break in college?”

Ari’s eyebrows rose as he thought back to it. He hadn’t finished college and it honestly seemed like a lifetime ago. He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair.

“Well, I only had two spring breaks. I remember going down to Daytona beach with some buddies of mine, getting drunk on Coronas and them all being drunk on love with whoever they met down there.”

You took a sip of your drink, nodding as you swallowed. “Sounds about normal. I bet you were a charmer back in the day, too. Sometimes I wish we’d met then.”

Ari shook his head vigorously at that, taking the drink from your hands and finishing it down. “Ehhhh…I’m not so sure about that. I do not think you would’ve liked to have met me then. I probably wasn’t deserving to be in your arms.”

Your brows pinched together as you took the drink back, going to Ari’s fridge and getting a fresh round of beer, hunching over to reach the shelf. “I don’t agree that you weren’t deserving. Sure, we lived different lives, but you were still you.”

Ari thanked you as you placed the new bottle in his hand, taking your seat again and shuffling the puzzle pieces.

“I mean, Bear, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who actually cares about being a ranger as much as you do. You go to all those little conferences and retreats and trainings and actually enjoy them. That’s not just a trait that develops overnight. It’s character.”

Ari blushed. Not even the cold beer was enough to counteract the warmth in his cheeks that came around when you said little things like that. When he could see how much of the little things you noticed. When you saw him.

He scoffed and tried to brush it off, though. As much as he loved to hear your praise, he respectfully disagreed with your assessment of his college self. Sure, if it had been up to him then, he would’ve been ecstatic to meet you a lot sooner, but God knew what he was doing making Ari wait all this time.

“Nah, I was a bit of a punk. And I wasn’t ready then to meet someone like you, but I think I’m ready now.” It was true. Right when Ari met you was when his world started spinning, but he wouldn’t have been able to handle it as the immature, reckless, and restless young delinquent he was.

“I definitely wasn’t doing humanitarian work like you. Trust me, Duchess, if you would’ve seen me…let’s just say…I don’t think I would’ve ever gotten the opportunity like now to kiss you every morning with the sunshine. I would’ve blown it pretty early on.”

You shrugged and continued to snap pieces into place with one hand while the other reached for his, pulling it to your lips for a kiss. “Agree to disagree.”

The puzzle was shaping up now, as you worked to slide your solved chunks in towards the middle with Ari. Only a few pieces were left to be placed.

Ari continued to work on the task at hand, but it took a back seat in his mind to the main show that was you. Sure, he loved little activities, but mostly, he just loved you and the time you could spend together. He’d do anything if it meant just stealing another moment.

As you were close to finishing, there were two spots open, but only one puzzle piece left. You stood up, looking on your seat, spinning around to check the floor, and even peeking under the mostly-solved puzzle with no luck.

“Bear, stand up. Do you see the last piece anywhere? Can you please help me find it?”

He stood up and cleared his throat. “Sure thing. It’s gotta be here somewhere. This was a new set. Couldn’t have gone far.”

The two of you looked over every nearby surface, Ari even checking the fridge to see if you’d tracked it into there somehow, and to get himself another drink after looking for the piece at the bottom of his bottle.

Somehow this hunt had turned into a dance, though. Or…more of a hobble?, as Ari had wrapped his arms around your neck, hugging you from behind and resting his head over one shoulder, taking big, goofy, swaying steps with you.

He lived for this. Really. Where had you been all his life? This night was another quotidian moment he wanted to bask in. He felt like it had taken him forever to find the one he wanted to spend forever with, but now that he did, he just wanted time to slow down. He wanted to drag out this night just a little bit longer.

You turned around in his hold, hands rubbing his chest and abs over the old hoodie he wore. Your nails raked up and down, sending tingles to the firm muscles under the plush fabric. Ari held you close, large hands splayed against your lower back. As your hand brushed over the pocket in his sweatshirt, you felt something small and flat with sharp edges.

“Hm, that’s suspicious.” Your head tilted as you looked up at the tree of a man, a sly smile on his face, looking back down at you.

“Oh, Angel, I’m just excited to see you.”

Without breaking eye contact, you reached into the pocket, finding exactly what you’d expected, mouth open in a small gasp of fake shock.

“As much as you wish it were, not everything is about your dick, Levinson.”

You winked and leaned up to kiss his cheek. Ari simply gave a shrug as you shimmied out of his hold and back over to the table, sliding the final puzzle piece into place. This was a mimetic moment for him; a visual representation of what you’d done in his life, and he planned to never let you go.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Bro, a lil sap who thinks the world of me? That’s all I want. Fr Fr.

If you agree, I’d love to hear about it. Drop me a comment or reblog. Thank you for reading!!

Series Taglist:

@patzammit

@hawkeyes-queen

@identity2212

@jamneuromain

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[merrycrisis-if]

Merry Crisis Chapter 4: Boxing Day

Public release is OUT!

Thank you so much for playing :) I absolutely can't wait for you guys to play it!

Might have to replay if your saves are funky, otherwise, you should be good to go! Click here for the previous post for more info on the chapter!

(+55k words, total: 152k words)

“Morning after” scene with Shay if you chose to stay over

Mountain bike ride with Shay if you chose to go on it 

Flashback of The Incident with Qiu 

Reunion dinner with your classmates, and meeting Qiu again for the first time

Alternate scene with Qiu if you chose not to go for the reunion dinner

Head over to my ko-fi to support me if you like :)

[murmursdraconic]

She shrugs a bit. "I don't know, I'm new to this?"

Though the comment about fans made her a bit puzzled. She knew gym leaders had some hard core fans but, were they really that bad?

They hadn't been talking that much out in public...

"I didn't think you had it that bad if that's the case just doing your job. If you'd rather we not I'm okay with that though."

She was of course talking about public affection.

@beiowzero X

[allieebobo]

Merry Crisis—Developer's log

Romance-focused x Slice-of-life x Queer x Non-Euro-centric x Character-based

Demo | Features | Cast of characters | Back to Main Post | COG forum | Dedicated tumblr | Ko-fi

Wordcount: ~152k words

Prologue (24 Dec '21): The Departure ~19k words 

Rush home to grab your things and head to JFK airport (why exactly are you so late for your flight?)

Bump into Nat, who offers to give you a ride to the airport, because they’re... just that kind of ride-or-die (literally) friend...?

Charm, beg, or name-drop your way into getting on that plane despite your horrifying tardiness. Or: miss your flight despite your best efforts (or maybe you weren’t trying that hard?) - and spend one more night in New York.

Chapter One (10 Jun '22): The Arrival | 24 Dec ~51k words

Have your lift hijacked by Shay, your neighbour’s new tenant

Eat your favorite Singaporean food

Participate in your family’s unique Christmas tradition [Paint some ugly santa figurines, or bake and karaoke to your heart’s content or play mahjong]

Call your old friend Joony, and get lost in memories of your junior-college* days... Qiu (no surprise here) features heavily in those memories.

Have a ‘midnight heart-to-heart’ with your brother. (or not!)

Chapter Two (28 Jan '23): Christmas Day | 25 Dec !~48k words

Attend Christmas dinner with the extended family. Get embroiled in some true soap opera-style drama.

Ride off from the family dinner with Shay on their motorbike (to your mother’s horror), to a live music venue. Meet their bandmates, dance with Shay or perform on stage with the band

Call Nat, reminisce about the first and last time Nat had come to visit Singapore, and fight for a possible future together.

Sit in the park and stare out into the ocean—and have a flashback about your 18th birthday spent with your high school first love / soulmate.

End Christmas with a bang (quite literally) in Shay’s apartment.

Chapter Four (01 Jul '23): Boxing Day | 26 Dec ~55k words

“Morning after” scene with Shay if you chose to stay over

Mountain bike ride with Shay

Flashback of The Incident with Qiu

Meet Qiu again for the first time in years—either at the reunion dinner with your high school classmates, or at the coffeeshop below your block (if you chose not to go to the dinner)

[aviaryartist1800]

TW: abuse, harassment, and death

Here is something that bothers me to this day

How come people like Camila Cuevas and Blogthegreatrouge get rightully admonished for their actions, but someone like Vivziepop(who has done worse in my opinion) gets defended a lot and to my knowledge, still hasnt changed(in regards to the workplace abuse allegations and hiring Raph)

Like, its weird the fans keep dismissing the workplace abuse allegations despite having mountains of evidence

(not to mention viv romanticizes and makes jokes r@pe, abuse, and sa, yet she tries to write about male victims of abuse

EDIT:Also like, remember when she joined in(idk if that is true) and is even friends with the people who harassed a fan over a ship??(and said fan offed themselves?) does anyone remember Shay?