#and because of this convenience venturing off the path into the grass is seen as a fun and beneficial thing to do

[goldensunset]

i was previously complaining about not having the fly hm yet but now that i do have it i’m like ehhh whatever it’s more fun to walk and appreciate the scenery and music. i think the primary difference might be that a lot of the routes between cities are straight shots that have little to no tall grass/deep sand/caves/etc that could potentially stop me. like there are definitely some routes i’m never again gonna want to travel through just as thru traffic (*cough* route 7 *cough cough* chargestone cave) but otherwise i’m like yeah i’ll just walk over to driftveil city. yeah route 3 to the daycare is a straight shot. yeah i’ll bike across skyarrow bridge. i’ll go back and forth for fun even. i don’t want to fast travel unless it really would be that much effort otherwise

[jungkookiebus]

The Lord’s Kiss | jjk

Genre: supernatural x smut x period piece Pairing: vampire!jungkook x reader Rating: 18+ Word Count: 5.1k Warnings: blood play, fingering, mentions of death, stockholm syndrome? Summary: You shouldn’t have stayed in the village for as long as you did. The woods are dark as you try to make your way home, only to be walking in circles. Is it convenience or fate that a stranger is now offering you help? With him, you seem to step into another reality all together.

The night was cold and the air bit at your skin. Ice cracked beneath your feet as you walked along the path towards home. It clung to the dead leaves and grass that still sprouted in spots through the dirt. The woods around you were dark and ominous, quickening your pace. The lantern you held swayed in your hand. The flame inside created a macabre dance of shadows against the trees that had you jumping when paired with the snap of a twig. It had taken you longer in town than you had anticipated, so when you hit the trailhead back home the sun was already dipping below the horizon. Your family would probably soon worry about you. Pulling your shawl even tighter, you hoisted the basket you were carrying a little higher and tried to walk even faster; even to the point that it was uncomfortable. The lantern swayed on your arm and casted light against twin trees that grew together from the roots. Didn’t you pass that tree earlier? A large, moss covered boulder came into sight and you knew you had been here before. Were you going in circles somehow? You started to stumble as you grew more desperate to find the right path home. You really should have started home before the sun went down and now you were in danger of running into a wolf or worse a—

“What do we have here?” The voice echoed all around you and seemed to be coming from every direction. It wove through the trees before getting closer until it almost whispered in your ear. Startled, you dropped the basket and the lantern which went tumbling down the path before burning out.

“No, no, no, no,” you whispered as you dropped to your knees and crawled towards the lantern. You were an arm’s length away when someone stepped into the path in front of you. You could tell by the shift in the air around you and you froze in place. Night birds and insects silenced their songs with only the wind to remind you that you were in the forest. You heard the telltale sound of the lantern being picked up and seconds later it lit with fire once more. Shiny boots stood in front of you and as your eyes traveled upwards you noticed the person was dressed in expertly tailored clothes.

“Let me help you.” His voice was smooth as cream, but as menacing and sharp as a knife’s edge.

You shrank back when he extended his hand and he laughed. Looking up, you saw that his smile did not quite reach his eyes which made you even the more hesitant. The lantern cast harsh shadows on his face, and he was both beautiful and terrifying. His dark hair was swept off his forehead and his skin was eerily translucent. Eyes as black as pitch stared back at you, but the lantern light seemed to be absorbed into their depths. Your heart quickened and his brow furrowed.

“You’re lost, little one.”

You knew you were lost and all you wanted to do was get home.

“Why don’t you come with me?” His voice had a strange airy quality to it as if he were trying to come off as gentle, but you knew he was anything but.

“I-I know my way h-home,” you said weakly.

He fully smiled now, and his teeth glinted as he held the lantern a little higher. Clicking his teeth, he kneeled to your level smoothly, one knee in the dirt and ice. He leaned forward, coming dangerously close to your face but you were too afraid to move. You had never met another person whose skin was not marred by the sun or work, but up close, his had no blemishes or scars.

“It doesn’t seem that way.”

Unfortunately, he was right. At night, the woods deemed themselves entirely different than the day and you were hopelessly lost. What were your options? Continue roaming the woods, possibly getting attacked by some wild animal or dying in the elements or—you could take your chances with a stranger. Your breath came out shakily and clouded in front of you. The temperature was dropping.

“Are you scared?” he breathed.

You were suddenly aware than when he spoke his breath did not cloud like yours, yet his outward appearance seemed normal. The feeling he gave off, however, was not. Your fingertips began to numb as the night air descended upon you two fold. What choice did you have?

“I’m not afraid.” Maybe, if you seemed strong, he wouldn’t harm you. Thoughts of your family raced through your head. They were probably wondering where you were if not already looking for you.

He held out his hand once more and you looked at it hesitantly. This decision could quite possibly be your last and it made your body all at once hot and cold. Tentatively, you reached out and placed your hand in his. His skin was cold as ice, but you deemed it because of the weather. He smiled again and stood up, pulling you with him.

“Shall we go, then?” He looked at you as if you had a choice, but you knew you did not.

You simply nodded and he let go of your hand in favor of leading the way. The path seemed familiar and strange all at once the further you walked into the forest. It was still silent save for the wind and an ominous chill ran through your body. Never had you heard it so quiet.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s not much further.”

His footsteps were silent where yours crunched along the ice still. You swallowed thickly and tried to keep your head up as you followed him. As if by some sort of magic, the trees seemed to part in front of you and he stepped out onto a rocky overhang that looked down into a valley you had never seen before. Was that always there? Surely you would have seen it before. Nestled amongst the trees stood a stately stone manor with every window lit from within. You stood, shocked, on the ledge and the wind whipped around your skirts and tangled your hair around your face.

“Let us go before you fall ill.”

He struck you out of your astonishment as he stood near a path leading downwards, lantern still swaying in his hand. You followed him and within half an hour you were stood before the large home. You had never seen anything so extravagant before, having lived close to the small village and never ventured into bigger cities. Beyond its high, stone walls stood a decrepit old church that looked as if it had not been used in many, many years. Ice hung dangerously sharp from the roof tiles and the heavy wooden door looked impossible to open. He walked up to a smaller door that was set into one of the large two and opened it. Warm light spilled out into the dark night and inside you saw an impressive hall with two lit fireplaces.

“Are you the lord of this house?” you asked as you froze, looking inside. You were suddenly afraid of trespassing. There were mentions of wars in distant lands and you were afraid to find yourself in the home of some feudal lord.

“I am,” he said smoothly. He had put the lantern out and was patiently waiting for you to enter.

You were still hesitant as you crossed the threshold. Your shoes echoed off the stone floor and into the Great Hall. Tall fires roared and warmed the room, instantly thawing your sore muscles. You heard him softly shut the door behind you before making his way to your side.

“You must be hungry. Follow me.”

In full light you were able to see him a little better. He was richly dressed and clean which meant he had an abundant amount of money, if the manor were any other indication. Large, plush rugs lined the floors of the hall and various chairs and tables were arranged neatly around both fires. Art that seemed larger than life hung on the walls, some were portraits while some were simply landscapes. Other than the two of you, there was no other soul in sight. He walked leisurely and you followed close behind trying to take in as much of the home as you could. A hundred of yours could fit into this hall alone. He turned into a doorway which led you down a hall until you reached an equally stately kitchen with a table and chairs situated inside as well. If you had to guess, there was probably a dining hall close by.

“Take a seat,” he said as he waved his hand towards the table.

He moved fluidly and as if he had all the time in the world. He pulled out a loaf of fresh bread, cheeses, dried meat, and various fruits and brought them to the table. He set them out before you as he grabbed what looked to be a bottle of wine and poured some into a cup. Once he had them out in front of you, he sat across, and looked at you expectantly when you did not move to touch any of it.

“It’s not poisoned,” he laughed.

“Then why don’t you eat?”

His eyes narrowed a little before he composed his expression once more. He drummed his fingers on the table patiently, never breaking eye contact with you. Soon, he sighed loudly as he reached forward for an apple and bit into it. It sounded crisp and juicy. You shuffled slightly in your seat to mask the sounds your stomach was making as you watched him chew.

He swallowed as he sat the fruit down on the table. “See? Not poisoned. Besides, I am not very hungry. Not for that, anyway.”

The way he said the last sentence sent chills down your back, but right now you were too hungry and tired to care.

“What’s your name?” you asked as you reached for the bread.

He hummed as he sat back, placing both feet on the table casually as he watched you eat.

“Jungkook.”

“You’re not from here are you?” The bread tasted freshly made and the crust crunched in your mouth deliciously. Not even your mother made bread this good.

“I’m from a lot of places. Here is just where I choose to be for the moment.”

His answer was odd, but you decided not to press since he seemed to be so aloof. You missed the way his eyes traveled from your face to your neck as you grabbed some of the dried meat. His met yours again as you looked at him.

“You can stay here for the night,” he said as he swung his legs off the table. “It’s much too cold for you to be wandering the woods so late at night. Plus, you never know what you might run into.”

Him? For example. You were not entirely sure he wasn’t a threat yet, but you felt your resolve melting the more he talked and the fuller your stomach became. Sleep clung heavily to your body and the ache in your legs was now a mild, manageable pain. Tendrils of sleep nipped at the corners of your mind. You blinked a little slower.

“My, look how tired you’re getting already.”

He stood from the table and was at your side in seconds. Your eyes drooped and he scooped you up with no issue. Your head lulled against his shoulder as you slipped deeper and deeper. How was this all happening so quickly? You did not have time to answer you own question before you were cloaked in a sleep so deep it could be debated whether you’d come back or not.

Mrow. The sound was distant and familiar. You were still somewhere nestled in the darkness with nowhere else to go. Mrrrow. The sound was a little closer this time and you tried to concentrate on it. Where had you heard that before? Where were you? Confusion hazed your thoughts. Were you at home? Mmmmrrrrrroooooooow. Blurrily, you opened your eyes to a dimly lit room. Heavy, velvet curtains surrounded the bed, but the end was open. You blinked a couple of times to adjust your sight. Next to your legs, sat a large white cat with green eyes. It stared at you inquisitively before meowing again. A fire burned in the fireplace. Oh, right, you were in the manor still. Lightning flashed, lighting up the room in its beautifully terrible display, before it fell dark again, and thunder rumbled in the distance. The cat stood and walked to the edge of the bed before it sat down and meowed again. You scooted closer towards it and it jumped to the ground before turning and waiting. Your feet touched down on an expensive rug. By the light of the fire and the occasional lightning, you could see the room was just as richly decorated as the rest of the manor. The cat meowed again, and you turned to see it sitting by your closed bedroom door.

“What do you want?” you whispered. You still were not entirely sure what to do with your situation. It was clearly still night if not incredibly early morning at this point and a storm was blowing in over the mountains. It would be suicide for you to go out into it. But was there danger within these walls as well?

The cat meowed and you sighed. You tried to walk as quietly as possible. You were not sure what you would disturb, whether it be him or some ghost, you did not want to find out. The door opened silently, and the hallway was lit dimly with candles that lined the walls. The house was dead silent, and you felt a strange chill go through your body. Your curiosity was piqued at the same time you wanted to run as far away from this place as possible. The cat walked lazily down the hallway leading to your right, so you slinked out after it. You did not even want to breathe. You followed it down a few turns of a hallway and the once silent house began to take on life again. Music played somewhere within the home, but behind closed doors. Were those voices? You had never heard a crowd so large before. The cat still walked as if it were not bothered by it in the slightest. The music, some waltz right now, was beginning to grow louder. There was a din of noise as you began to hear laughter and the clink of glasses. The cat now sat in front of heavy, double wooden doors and blinked at you as if it were bored. The voices on the other side were loud, but happy. The music picked up and you could hear dancing. You were pulling open the door before you even had a chance to register what you were doing. The brightness of the room blinded you for a second as you squinted your eyes. When you opened them again you were able to take in the gilded room. It was so unlike the rest of the manor that you began to question where you really were. The ceilings seemed impossibly tall, like the cathedrals father had told you about. A small orchestra was at one end of the room playing music, while hundreds of dancing bodies twirled amongst strange jesters on stilts, aerial dancers unraveled themselves from silk ribbons, and a constant dusting of glitter always seemed to fill the room. Every guest was opulently dressed and not one was without a mask. Some masks covered their whole faces, some half, and some just the eyes. They all ranged from beautiful to grotesque.

“I was wondering when you’d come,” you heard behind you as they handed you a mask. Shocked, you held out your hands, looking at the mask. That was when you noticed that you too were dressed in what seemed to be the finest of silks you had only heard stories of. Intricate flowers were handstitched into the fabric in an array of brilliant colors mixed with gold thread on a background of deep blue. The mask covered your eyes and was as red as blood. Fine crystals were inlaid into the mask, creating a twirling design of jewels that made you look both menacing and beautiful. You turned to see who spoke and it was undeniably your host despite the mask he wore. It covered half his face, but it was crafted beautifully to accentuate his cheekbone, it sloped delicately with his nose, and formed perfectly to drift right past the corner of his mouth, allowing you perfect view to his somewhat crooked smile as he looked down at you.

“You look stunning,” he commented.

“Where am I?”

“In my home.”

He wore a high collared shirt under a deep, rich blue coat that was decorated similarly to your dress. It was paired with dark, high waisted pants that were tucked snugly into shining boots that reached his knees.

“I don’t understand—”

He cut you off by grabbing your hand and led you to the center of dancefloor. He lifted your hand in his and placed the other on your waist as he led you through a waltz. His eyes glittered and shined in the brightness of the room and a fine dusting of diamond powder seemed to cover him head to toe. His dark hair shined under the thousands of candles perched precariously in their sconces. All around you, partners were jovial and laughing as they danced, whispering in one another’s ear while others embraced like lovers. At the edges of the room there were women entangled in the arms of men and even some men touching other men lovingly on their faces as they whispered in dark corners.

Jungkook kept his eyes on your face as you still tried to assess what was happening. The song ended and with it an eruption of cheers from the dancers as waiters came through with trays of drinks. Just as quickly as they appeared, they disappeared again, coming back bearing just as many drinks as before. He stood, still, before you as you watched the celebrating dancers begin to disperse before the next song started.

“Follow me,” he said, extending his hand. You placed your hand in his, and it was warm, inviting, as his hand enveloped yours.

Your thoughts and feelings felt real, but not your own. Something about him warmed you from the inside out as well as sent a stabbing pain of ice through your heart. Your mind told you to run as your body told you to stay.

But what if…?

You shook your head to rid yourself of the thought. His presence seemed to draw you in and keep you there and you felt the edges of the moth’s wing beginning to burn. You winced at the thought of staying here, but the pain was not nearly as bad as before. The crowd around you parted fluidly, filling back in on itself as you passed. No one really looked in your direction; they were caught up in their own worlds, in their own bubbles, completely unaware of anyone around them. You began to question if the scene around you were real. You smelled the sweet scent of champagne, felt it bubble under your nose as the waiter passed, yet the warmth was almost gone from the room.

He pulled you from the brightly lit ballroom, to a small door that blended so well with the wall you did not even know it was there and was pitch beyond where the light reached. He stepped inside and pulled you with him, door shutting quietly back into place. He reached out, pulling your mask from your face. He moved in the dark quickly as if he had the pattern of the house memorized. He took you up several sets of stairs and further away from the party until it was so muted that you had to strain to hear. At the final landing he opened another door. Moonlight flooded the room. The largest window you had ever seen created a clear wall that looked out onto the valley and the surrounding mountains. The moon was full and closer than you had ever seen. A large, heavily draped four poster stood against one wall while an ornate fireplace flanked the other. Large rugs covered the floors and even more beautiful paintings covered the walls. Dark, purple wallpaper that seemed to also be lined in gold covered the walls which also boasted dark wood paneling. Everything about the room seemed warm and mysterious despite his cold hold on yours. He led you across the room until you stood before the large window. Your breath fogged the glass as you gazed wide eyed into the night. An owl swooped past and into the trees, the trees cast ghostly shadows as the moon moved slowly across the sky. Rain began to fall softly as its clouds perfectly framed it.

“This could all be yours,” he whispered into your ear.

You shivered as gooseflesh rose on your arms. That rational part of your brain that had been telling you to run grew quieter and quieter until it was almost gone. Your brain was now connected directly to your heart and for some reason it seized in a way that sent butterflies into your stomach.

Eyes still fixed on the sharp edges of the evergreens, you asked, “What do you mean?”

His lips were warmer than his hands as he pressed them to the base of your neck. You shivered again as he sighed. He inhaled again as if he were smelling a freshly poured glass of wine. His hands were on your upper arms squeezing lightly.

He ran his nose up your neck and let his bottom lip skim your skin. “I’d give you everything you wanted…will you stay with me?”

What was he asking you? Some deep, dark part of you knew exactly what he was asking, exactly what he was, but you had to be wrong. There was no way you were right. His hands slid down your sleeved arms until they reached your wrists. Swiftly, he pulled your hands behind your back while tilting your head back with the other. His lips were on your neck again and you felt him quiver against you. He seemed drunk, but he appeared sober in the ballroom…

“Stay with you?” You wanted him to say it. You did not want to have to face the harsh truth of this and how much you wanted it. Your family would get over you. Right?

His teeth grazed your skin and the ice that you had felt through your heart melted, seeping into your stomach, and downwards. Your body reacted to his touch in a way that scared you.

“_____, you know exactly what I mean,” he whispered. “You knew the moment you accepted my help.”

And you had. His breath did not fog against the glass like yours. Where the wood stairs creaked beneath your feet, his did not. His skin, though warm, had ice beneath its surface.

“Y-your one of those creatures from the s-stories,” you muttered as his grip on your wrists tightened. He seethed against your skin at the word ‘creatures’ and you winced.

“I’m not a creature,” he said as he nipped lightly at your skin, but you felt the warning behind it. “I can create you into something new.” He began to grow excited as he inhaled deeply against your skin once more. His grip loosened a little on your wrists as he became preoccupied with what was underneath your flesh, pulsing in time with your heartbeat which he heard so loudly in his ears. “Stay with me. I can show you the rest of the world, ____. Just let me…” He trailed off as he hotly kissed down your neck, leaving it wet as he began to salivate over your scent.

“Yes,” you whispered, barely above a whisper. Your heartbeat slowed as your body relaxed. It seemed as if the affirmation, the answer to all his questions, was what you needed to do. It felt right. He froze behind you, fingers tightening as he moaned.

“Let me show you…”

His lips trailed to your exposed shoulder as he released your wrists in favor of bunching your dress in his hand. He pulled the hem up quickly, holding it in his hand as he slid it up your bare thigh. He reached beneath finding your center and cupped you gently. You moaned, leaning back into this shoulder. His hand still cupped your jaw, keeping your neck as exposed as possible to him. You were already beginning to soak the cotton of your undergarments as he slid his fingers over you. He nipped a little harder into your neck while he pressed the fabric against your clit. You heard the distinct pop of breaking skin, but the pain never registered as he circled his fingers on you. He laved his tongue across your skin, gathering the first droplets of blood that threatened to spill into your collarbone. He felt the first tingles of electricity go through his body at the taste. It started somewhere in his dead heart and made his fingers feel as if he just touched fire. He slipped his hand through the waistband and now had his skin against yours. You reacted, hips shifting forward as he attached his lips to the bite and sucked lightly. He gathered your slick wetness on his fingers and rubbed over the now swollen bundle of nerves. You had never been touched like this before and you felt high on the experience. He pushed you into his hips as he pressed down on your clit with his palm and pushed two fingers inside of you. You cried a little at the intrusion and he whispered reassurances against your skin that had your body relaxing into his once more. The soreness in your neck was subtle, but there. What masked the pain was the way his fingers curved inside of you exactly right, pushing against something inside of you that had your muscles going lax while all at once so stiff your legs were cramping.

“Do you feel good?” He was pumping his fingers faster now, grinding his palm against your clit. His entire hand was wet, and it made his efforts easier.

“Y-yes,” you muttered as you clung to his wrist. Your other hand was sliding helplessly against the glass.

He could hear your heart fluttering. Hearts beat differently, each had their own unique pattern, just like a fingerprint. But just like people, hearts conveyed emotions like the faces of strangers. Yours beat in a pattern of lust; right where he wanted you. His lips were back at your skin, searching, until he found what he wanted. The vein he needed. The one he had been smelling all night. He took a breath, closed his eyes for a few seconds, suspending time as he meditated. This would be an almost religious experience. He never did choose lightly, but he was sure of this. You would not have to see his teeth sharpen and you were so lost in the feeling of his hand between your legs that you did not really feel his teeth sink deep into your skin. Hot, fresh blood flooded his mouth as he pierced the vein. The taste was all at once bitter and sweet, like a wine with raspberries on the nose and ripe tannins. He drank graciously from you as he curved his fingers at each thrust, pushing you dangerously close to the edge. You had wet the cotton and your thighs as his hand slid faster and faster. He detached his lips, feeling your heart skip a beat. He was not ready for that yet. His lips were wet with your blood and he licked at them greedily. You moaned as your head lulled. You were in a subspace you had never been in before and your body was a mixture of molten warmth spreading from your center and something cold that seeped from where your neck met your shoulder and it spread across your chest. He pumped his fingers until he had you clenching around him. He bit into the flesh of his wrist and brought it to your mouth; your head still laid against his shoulder as your breath shuddered in your chest. He let the dark blood drip across your lips and tongue, and he watched as you instinctively swallowed. Then you winced. He wrapped his arm around your waist as you began to cry out. He ground his palm harder against your clit as he licked at the blood leaking down your shoulder. Your entire body was shuddering as you began to feel too many things at once. You came around his fingers so hard your vision blackened, then a sharp pain in your chest ripped through your body all at once. You cried again as your knees gave way. With his arm still around your waist, he dropped to his knees with you. He leaned back, bringing you to his chest as your eyes rolled back and your body convulsed in his arms. Nestling your head into his lap, he brought his hands to the sides of your face as you laid out before him, arms at your sides, as you felt your heartbeat slow. His face hovered above yours, his dark eyes fixed on your face as he watched your lips quiver. They seemed to be turning blue and your shuddering breath began to slow. He listened intently as your breathing weakened and your once strong heart slowly began to die out. He closed his eyes, hands still gentle on your face, as your entire body slumped in death, the last beat of your heart echoing in his ears. He sat patiently, waiting, as he evened his breathing and concentrated. He reached out with his thoughts, searching yours, waiting for those first few tendrils as the disease took you. A new life breathed within you. A light blossomed, something that he felt more than saw, and it spread through your body like melting snow. Life came back to your limbs as your fingers moved, then a slight movement of your foot. He heard you sigh as you took a breath. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open and you were looking into his endlessly dark ones. He smiled, and it was genuine, as his palms pressed into your skin. He leaned down, placing a metallic kiss to your cool lips.

“Welcome back, my love, I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

[liliesoftherain]

A Knight’s Honor

Ch 2 - Oh Mother...

Masterlist

Summary: You are a female squire, who is not willing to give up your dreams of Knighthood to become a slave to society to save face.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

SLOWBURN

A/N: Second Chapter! I rushed this, but because I wanna get to some other parts and I haven’t worked on this in a good minute. So I hope you like it anyways! 

After parting ways with Shinsou, you were making your way to the northern gates of the castle to start your patrol. Every morning, unless directed otherwise, you were to patrol the outer rim of the castle walls on foot. While most people hated foot patrols, saying they always took way too much time versus patrolling on horseback, you loved it. It gave you time to clear your head and actually focusing on your surroundings. 

If you had a steed, you would have to make sure it was fine, make sure they had enough space down the path, watching for anything that could potentially spook them, and well-it was more hassle for a simple patrol. Horses had their plenty of capability to aid you and others, like carrying more weight and items, allowing for quicker travel, and overall just having a companion to rely on. 

A horse would never spill your secrets, that you had the utmost faith in.

Yet for now, you were more than happy to be alone. With thoughts filled with nothing more than the skies and the surrounding lands.

You reached the gates and let out a greeting to the Squire on sentry duty,

“Good day Sero!” 

The young man turned to you with a lazy look on his face, before a small smile overtook it.

“Ah (l/n), right on time.” 

“As I am every morning.” You snickered, walking across the ramp to stand in front of him. His shrugged with a nod of agreement, eyes hazy as if sleep was hanging on with all of its might-well, more like boredom. 

Sentry duty was as every bit boring as it was slow. 

“As am I every morning.”

“You poor soul, forced to stay wake while the only company you share is that of the weathered cracks on stone.”

“Which I have counted a lifetime over and then some, I assure you.” He sighed bitterly.

“I am inclined to agree, I wish you all the luck. I shall see you at my return.” You began to walk off, out the gates onto the path outside.

“I am to need it, surely! Safe ventures as always!” He called out, settling his back against the wall to keep propped up.

You only looked up at the sight before you and sighed with delight at the scenery before you.

The land was going through a beautiful change as always this time of year, the brilliant greens changing into a more colorful palette. The oranges, browns, and reds now standing out against the blue backdrop, contrasting greatly. 

Soon enough however, the skies will begin to darken as will the earth beneath it.  The sea of oaks and evergreens will be topped with white, as if they were plucked then dipped into paint before being set upright again. The grounds will be matching the look, with the blades of wild-grass and dirt covered, nowhere to be seen as it is buried underneath.

The courtyard, as well as the world outside of it, was always a magical sight to be seen once winter had come and taken root for the months to come. It would be thickly blanketed in the soft white of snow, the flakes of it dancing down to softly land upon anything it can. The sleet that pelted down on you wasn’t as nice, but still breathtaking nonetheless. To not be able to see more than a few feet in front of you, the howling winds causing shivers to seize your body in an attempt to warm.

Although, you were lucky to have an ability to keep warmer than most during these times. Your quirk, as that was the overall name of the abilities possessed by mere man, was that of the sun itself. Truly bright. Truly warm. Truly deadly. 

You could manipulate light in its purest form, and what is light if there is not heat right behind it? Through the years of hard work, you were able to turn that into a weapon for battle. 

It was uncommon for a women to be born with an ability, one made for the battlefields no less. Higher blood was often time the most blessed as they were gifted the abilities of the Gods, unlike the majority of the world. Men were the ones who were bestowed the stronger powers, the tougher, the scariest, the better abilities. While women were more often than not gifted with ones such as to help with chores or, womanly things. To produce warm water, just enough for baths. The ability to create different fibers, such as yarn, for creating clothing. A means of being able to dabble in the arts of healing, even if only for minor injuries. Things that were considered minimal, weak, inefficacious. 

Things that were considered exactly what a woman's being and worth was;

You wanted to prove everyone wrong.

Patrol was over sooner than you’d like, the walk around the outside of the castle grounds so familiar that you were sure it was shrinking in size by how easily you were able to lap it. Nothing was out of the ordinary, giving you the chance to report to your teacher and receive your daily duty. 

You had walked back through the gates to be stopped by Sero before you could pass with a simple greeting.

“Be for warned (l/n), your mother is in need of your audience.”

“Oh maggots, what more can she nag at me so early in the morn?”

“No idea, she had only asked for your location in hopes to speak.”

“Many thanks Sero, I suppose you would not let me take over Sentry in your stead, and you in my place of speaking to my mother?” You partly jested, however you were being truthful.

Talks with your mother were a pain, and Sero was often informed of your lovely conversations.

“Nay, I would rather be posted for a week straight in the blistering cold than to be in your mother’s joyous presence for longer than a second.” He looked away with a shiver jolting down his body.

“What a dear comrade you are Sero.” You pouted.

“I know you would hope the same for yourself, (l/n).” He laughed.

“You are not wrong. I shall say I had not known in hopes to dodge her until much later.”

“Good luck.”

You walked off, trying your best to sneak around the courtyard to get to your mentor in peace. It had worked, you had not caught wind of her booming voice, and instead found yourself outside one of the few common areas for the knight’s. A large room that housed weapons, maps, plans, and books alike. It was a place of study, practice, and good fun. A few of the Knight’s quarters being on the second floor, so it had felt like a home to many. 

Unfortunately, your mother had not allowed you to stay in the quarters meant for the squires, and you had a room in the main area of the castle due to your birth status. You knew none of your fellow friends had minded, but you heard whispers of few that you received special attention due to your blood. 

As well your gender.

You pushed open the door, scanning the room to see no one in the room except for your teacher. He stood over a circular desk that housed a large map of the kingdom and its surrounding lands. Borders marked expertly and details clear, and it was a wondrous map to study when one needed to know about the surrounding kingdoms and where the lands came together.

“Sir Hizashi, I am here for my report.”

“Ah (l/n), you’ve caught me at a good time. Lend me your thoughts for a moment.”

“Sir?” 

You walked closer to the table, looking as he pointed at a path on the warn map.

“Tell me, why would this path to take if you were to head to Hosu.” His finger tapped the neighboring kingdom, before trailing along the path he asked you about.

“Well, are we thinking of time or ease?” 

“Humor me.” 

You looked at the map, taking a step closer to point yourself as you talked.

“Well, this path is the best for convenience by far. One of the more common roads that lead through villages and such without fear of crossing through property.”

You traced the path just as he did.

“However, the price for this comfort is your time. It would take much time to get to the outskirts of Hosu, this is considering the need for plenty of stops and rest at night.”

You moved to another path, one not as detailed as the previous, but a path nonetheless.

“This path here, will most likely cut your trip in half, allowing for a more straightforward travel, however there would be a need of protection in case of outlaws or bandits, as since it is not as populated a path. With proper protection, it is a much acceptable trail.” 

You looked up to see Hizashi grinning, patting your shoulder roughly along with his praise.

“That head of yours surely makes me proud, you take after me quite well!”

“Thank you, Sir, may I be bold as to ask why you have asked about this in specific?”

“Ah, this quicker trail in question is the one Sir Aizawa and Shinsou have taken, Aizawa had shared your thoughts exactly about the path.”

“It was a great idea of course, and of course you were sure the one to give him it.” You humored him, and he barked out a laugh that left your ears ringing.

“You indulge this old man too much, (l/n)!”

“Nonsense Sir, you have not hit old age yet.” He patted your back once more before walking over to the large selection of books, picking up three from the shelves.

“Yet being the keyword young squire, here-” He handed the books into your awaiting arms, “I shall have you brush up on territories since we are on the subject.”

You nodded in agreement with a bow of your head as he took his leave.

He paused by the door momentarily, turning to look back at you.

“Oh yes, how was patrol?”

“Safe and sound as always!”

“Good! After your studies you may do your chores and indulge in sparring before being dismissed, I have an audience with the King and some advisers later on, so I will not be around to report to.”

“Understood Sir.”

“Splendid, enjoy your day (l/n)!”

“As do you Sir!” 

You waited a moment longer, scanning through the bookshelf in order to pluck one more before walking outside, all four books in hand. You made your way back to the kitchen areas, knowing that it was too early for any other type of meal, so you could study in peace. 

Just as you thought no one was occupying any tables, allowing you to spread your texts out along the tops without getting in anyone's way.

“Oh Petal, I wasn’t expecting to see you till supper!” You looked up from your books with a smile.

“Mina, I didn’t think you’d have time to come out of the hole.” 

She laughed, sitting beside you with her laughter fading into a sigh as she handing you an apple.

You happily took it, proceeding to shove it into your mouth. Blissfully groaning as the juicy apple satisfied your small hunger.

“I left as fast as I could, thankfully they do not let me around the deserts as they are being prepped.”

“We are lucky they do, otherwise you would not leave any for the rest of us!” 

“Oh hush! I would not eat them all-”

“Only save enough for your King?”

“Precisely!”

You laughed once more at her ridiculous grin before looking back down and opening a book, finding maps and notes collected together over the time of the kingdom.

“What is it they are making you learn today?” Mina asked, peeing over your shoulder to look at the texts.

“The kingdom and its territory. These here,” You pointed to a specific marking of lines, “Indicates trade routes as well.”

“Trade routes? Why, you are no merchant.”

“Trade routes can be useful knowledge. Knowing on-land routes can help as they are more suited for traveling heavier with wagons and horses. Since they are not as agile as one traveling on foot. Of course, it is best to stick to traveling pathways, but if need be you may follow a traders path to get to ports and such, you will be sure to find a population there if in need of people.”

“Could you not find many in markets of towns and such?”

“You could yes, but what if you were say, caught here,” You pointed at an area of trees, “there is no direct path to take. If you knew where the location of a village was, you could head in said direction. Yet, if you were unsure, but you see the trademarks for a trading post, it’d be best to head there. You are able to spot plenty of trade routes easy, more so than towns roads. If not, head in direction of the sea because there will always be something there. You can get supplies, replenish your rations, and receive directions. If lucky, you may convince one to ride on their wagon. Reducing your travel time.” She nodded thoughtfully at your words.

“I suppose it would be of use, thankfully I never have to know them!” She laughed, giving your shoulder a good squeeze before standing.

“You should always know the kingdom, it may save your life one day.” You pointed out, taking another bite of the delicious snack.

“Then I’m glad I have you to help, Petal.” Mina patted at her skirts to remove any dirt she could before giving her goodbyes.

“I must get back now, I am cooking fish tonight! You best work up an appetite!”

“For your food? Of course!” You grinned, waving goodbye as she disappeared through the door. 

You began to study for the next while, scanning through all of your books with a thirst to better your memory. It was always fun to read the texts, even when they were boring routes and such alike. 

The feeling of knowledge was just too important to dislike, therefore you always took pleasure in such an activity. Hizashi was well aware, and was often boasting that he had a good apprentice who enjoyed the studies for once, unlike most other squires. He made sure to give you a fair amount of studying, as well as actually practice in the arts you have read about. No doubt tomorrow, if Hizashi had planned the time in his schedule, he would make you accompany him on any path. Forcing you to recall the knowledge you learned while on such a walk.

The sun began to rise higher in the sky until it was directly over you, indicating that you should probably end your studies and get going with your afternoon chores. So you lifted all of your books and went to walk away when a jingle of bells caught your attention.

“Ah, is that a fool I hear?” You asked without looking up to see who you knew would be there.

“A fool indeed, Milady!” You stood with a smirk, looking up to see a man with a bell-hat adorning his head.

“How are you this fine day, Jester?”

“Very well Lady Knight, I have prepared the most beautiful ballad for the King this evening.” He walked next to you as you begin to head back to the Knight’s area.

“I am no Knight yet, Kaminari.”

“Ah but to me you will always be, fair lady.” He grinned, winking as he skipped ahead and cleared his throat, “Would you care to hear it?”

“I suppose I have time, but after I must get on with my chores.”

“Chores are bores (l/n)!” He pouted.

“Chores are apart of my daily routine, my duty?” You raise a brow, and laugh as he waves you off.

“Let me sho-oh!” Walking backwards, Kaminari had failed to notice a rock on the ground, causing him to trip and land on his behind.

You let a snort of laughter, only to bite your lip to keep the rest of your giggles hidden as he glares back at you.

“Maggots, that hurt.” He stood up with a sigh, brushing the dirt off of his clothes.

“At least you had a hat to protect that large head of yours.” You kept walking, hearing the boy jog to catch up.

“I say, that’s no way to show concern for a friend!”  He huffed next to you, walking facing forwards this time.

“If you believe that is not how I express my concern, then you are no friend.”

“Don’t say such words, you shall break my heart beyond repair.” Kaminari put a hand over his chest, to emphasize his words.

“I’m sure the blacksmith shall have no issues to help.” You rolled your eyes with a snicker bubbling from your lips at his crestfallen expression.

“The blacksmi-Ojiro would not care to fix my heart!”

“Why not? He would surely fix something as precious as that.”

You saw his eyes widen at your words, and you hide a smile at the dopey grin that spread across his face. 

“Precious? Oh sweet lady, you speak all the words a fool wishes to ever hear. You know- I feel like that could be a terrific ballad.”

The sounds of grunting caught your attention, and you turn to see people sparing on the training grounds. You see blonde and you let a frown take over your face. Bakugou was training against another one of the squires, and he was no match for him. You hated to admit it, but Bakugou was amazing at hand-to-hand combat.

He was almost too good, even though everyone here had been training all their lives just as he has. However, you tended to gloat when it came to archery, out beating him in that subject by a mile. His raw power tended to overshoot the arrow, and you gracefully made a bulls eye every time. Not to mention how destructive it can be if he uses his quirk with it as well.

Lost in thought, you didn’t have time to dodge the one person who you hoped to not see all day.

“(Y/N)! DEAR STOP THIS ONCE.” You wanted to run, but if you did it’d make it worse.

Bakugou turned to the noise, but you looked away before he caught your eyes. 

“Have fun milady, I shall be off hiding away, do find me if you survive.” Denki had given you a quick, playful bow and scampered off. 

You clicked your tongue as you watched him leave.

‘Traitor.’

“Hello mother.” You had said dryly, looking at her while trying to hide your grimace.

“(y/n), you rascal, did you not know of my looking for you?” She sighed.

You could tell she was annoyed, and swallowed the comment of her not looking hard enough. Since you sat in the same spot for some time.

“No mother, I did not.”

“Well,” She huffed, “Now that I have caught you-”

“Against my will may I add.”

“Hush your tongue girl! I need you to come with me, we must-”

“Mother,” You cut her off, pulling your hand from her grasp, “I have duties right now, can this please wait?” 

Your pleading seemed to cause her even more annoyance, but she only crossed her arms while looking up at you.

“This is a very important matter, (y/n). Can your chores wait, till tomorrow perhaps? Or, honestly you may need to put training on hold, even behind you.”

“What? I cannot put my training on hold. I have a responsibility to my Knight teacher and most important my King-”

“Well, your suitor will not take to watching you scoop, ugh, dung.”

“S-suitor!?” You yelled louder than intended, not realizing the sets of eyes digging into your back.

You clutched your books tighter to your chest, trying your hardest not to blow up on your mother.

“My dear, you have been at your prime, you are Nineteen! it is time you find someone-”

“Mother.” You glare, “I refuse. My duty is to my King first and foremost.”

“Your duty is only tempor-”

You stormed off, not bothering to turn around as your mother yelled after you. She had never believed in your position, believing that as soon as you were ‘bored’, you would come crawling back to your life of luxury. 

‘Never.’ You thought bitterly.

You did not want to marry someone who thought less of you because of this, someone who wanted you to settle down and bare heirs. She, nor anyone else, could force you to do anything, and you will make sure to scare off anyone who would even think of pulling you out of the life you love

[sugamoonv]

How Rude

Like A Mate Should

Summary: Namjoon and Jin see you being attacked as a godsend. You see it your attack and meeting them as a series of unfortunate events. How unfortunate that you’re their mate. 

Pairings: established NamJin / Namjin x Reader

Word Count: 3,360

Masterlist > Next

“What do you mean you’ve never met a werewolf!?”

You were sitting at a round table with a few of your friends. Some eating as a few dishes took longer to cook in the restaurant. You saw each other a lot since you were the same major and thus shared multiple classes and so had made it a thing to eat lunch together after class.

You shrugged and swirled the straw around in your glass of water with your tongue. Your friend, [F/N], stared at you with wide eyes and shook her head in disbelief causing you to laugh and abandon your drink. “What do you want me to tell you? My childhood was very sheltered. My mom didn’t trust them.”

“And what about you?” one of the girls was watching you with a scrutinizing gaze. She was already on edge with the liberal use of werewolf because while it wasn’t considered a slur, it was seen as ignorant and derivative. Shifter was the technical term. Her minor was in Hybrid Law and shifters fell under the umbrella of hybrids since they were cousins to the wolf hybrid. It was highly debated in the field whether shifters were bred from wolf hybrids or if wolf hybrids came from shifters. Experimenting was illegal since they were part human, so it was all theoretical.

You shrugged again, “I don’t know I’ve never met one. At least I don’t think I have? I mean I don’t have any reason to hate them or anything.”

This must have been an adequate enough answer because she went back to her garden salad. You were finally allowed to eat as your usual plate was placed in front of you and the topic shifted off of you back to class.

One by one, everyone at the table paid their portion of the check and packed their food to leave. Two girls shared the same class and so they had to leave right after lunch and everyone else used them leaving as a leeway to leave themselves. Talk about plans of going to the library, dorm, or gym filled the air as chairs were pushed in and backpacks were slung over shoulders.

You waved as you departed in the opposite direction as everyone. [F/N] walked alongside you. You both got caught up in idle chit chat when your shoulder was roughly shoved causing you to half spin to face a man. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your friend to begin walking away. After crossing the road, you glanced back to see the man standing in the same spot you left him with a confused scowl on his face but when he sensed you looking, he looked up from the ground, turned, and began walking again.

You focused back on what your friend was saying with a confused roll of your eyes at the man's strange behavior.

“So I got a date…” you look at her expectantly and grin when you see her eyes light up. After being turned down at a party some time ago and whining about it to her for a couple weeks, she forced you into a dating app. Not to find true love but to have distractions. And if you found true love then that was an added bonus. Her words.

    You breathily laughed, “And before you offer to help because I know you're obsessed with those outfit montages they do in movies,” you teasingly point to her, “I already have an outfit picked out and I can handle doing my own makeup.”

“What about your hair?” she raises her eyebrows at you.

“My hair is fine,” you lightheartedly defend yourself, “I don’t want to do anything to it because they’re taking me on a picnic and it’s supposed to be windy that day.”

The wind howled as it whipped your hair about. You cursed yourself for cutting it as it was now too short for you to tie it back but long enough to keep getting in your face. You dramatically pushed another strand out of your eyes and your date laughed at you from their spot on the blanket. A cliche wicker basket full of safe lunch food sat in between you and plastic cups of cheap, sparkling wine was balancing on the ground next to you.

The sun beat down on you. Sitting in the warmth felt heavenly but the hike to the field felt like pure torture. You almost sprained your ankle twice on the rocky trail in the flimsy sandals you paired with the sundress. It was annoying that your date had walked ahead of you the whole time but now that you were sitting, you quickly brushed it off.

“So....what major are you?” you asked the question to break the awkward silence.

Your date seemed to be too nervous to initiate any conversation, but once they were given a prompt, they immediately delved into what they wanted to do with their life and all the things about their major that they’re passionate about. Which would have been nice if you understood a lick of what they were saying. To you, it all sounded like jargon, especially since they jumped into complex topics rather than briefly explaining the basics. It also didn’t help that they spoke while eating so instead of focusing on the words they were saying, all you could focus on was the lip-smacking.

They cleared their throat and took another large bite of their ham sandwich. You glanced at your own paper plate of food in disinterest and slightly pushed it away from you. You sat waiting for them to ask you the same question if not something else but were left hanging as they finished their sandwich and began making another.

You sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity when your date suddenly stood up and brushed their hands together to knock of crumbs. “I really have to go to the bathroom.” They strangely bent their wrist back to point at the line of trees circling the clearing and you nodded. They were halfway to the trees when you looked at their empty cup then the bottle of wine consecutively. Nearly three-quarters of it was gone. Your cup was still half full from when they first opened the bottle.

You gave your date extra time because peeing in the woods wasn’t as convenient as a regular bathroom. But then 10 minutes passed, then 15, then 20, and after 25 minutes you knew they weren’t coming back. Whether that was because they had gotten lost or ditched you was the question.

You abandoned the basket of food and left in the same direction your date went. You should have been sensible and only walked in far enough to still see the clearing, but you stupidly kept venturing further into the woods. Looking either for your date or the path they used to escape. After a few minutes of walking and finding nothing, you turned back to the direction you thought you came from. But after walking a few minutes back to the clearing and seeing no signs of it, panic grew in your chest.

The spot you were taken to had immediately blocked you from getting service. You switched your phone to battery saver mode and pushed back tears before turning and retracing your steps. From the time on your phone, you estimated that you had been wandering around the woods for around an hour.

The more time passed, the more panicked your breathing became as you grew more and more certain that you were officially lost. The ground betrayed you with its soft appearance of dewy leaves, soft dirt, and sporadic patches of grass. What you found that the soil and leaves were hiding sharp rocks and twisted roots from your view and now you were carrying your broken sandals in your right hand. Your dirt covered feet padded along the earth, careful to sense where best to step.

The shadows that came with afternoon began stretching past you. Goosebumps formed your arms in the cool shade. The woods seemed darker than they did at the entrance and the birds didn’t chirp as loudly here. The hair on the back of your neck raised as your body instinctively began scouting for danger in the unmarked territory.

Your frustration quickly transformed into fear as a loud snap sounded from behind you. Then another, and another, and another, each one louder than the last. Your feet carried you away from the source, a quick walk then a full sprint as the snapping behind you picked up the pace with you.

Flashes of red and black flanked your sides as you ran, slowly inching diagonally towards you to cut you off. You pushed your foot into the earth and took off in the opposite direction and while it gave you a second ahead of them, their reflexes were far better than yours and you found yourself in the same situation.

You could feel the heavy thuds of the wolves paws against the soil as they got close enough from you. One wolf moved behind you and its footprints fully replaced yours with their own. The skin on your arms burned from the blood flow and a sharp pang restricted your already heavy panting.

Just as the wolf on your side made a move to knock into you, another wolf smaller than the wolf chasing you smashed into its chest and they became a flurry of black and reddish black fur and teeth.

The wolf behind you saw that it no longer had the opportunity to have fun with the chase as it and its’ partner had visitors. The wolf lunged forward and an intense pain shot up your leg as its teeth pierced your ankle. With the wolf having a hold of your ankle, you lost your balance and only when you harshly landed on your stomach, did the wolf release you to stumble forward before you caught yourself.

Ignoring your ankle, you scrambled back to your feet but once standing, the wolf rammed its shoulder into your body and you were forced back into the dirt. Stars filled your vision as you were thrown about and your body didn’t have enough time to pump blood to where it needed to go.

The wolf lurked so it was standing above you looking down at you. You blinked rapidly and your body froze as you locked eyes with the dark red canine eyes. Its lips slowly turned up into a snarl and you were introduced to the large, pointed teeth. Just as you thought this would be the end of you, the wolf was yanked off of you by another wolf that too was smaller.

This wolf may have been smaller than the black wolf it was fighting, but you could tell that it held more power that it appeared it did. The black wolf was quickly pinned to the ground by the chestnut brown wolf where its’ teeth locked into their neck. Every time the back wolf attempted to move, the brown wolf you give a vicious shake of its head and push the wolf down.

Two hands suddenly appeared under your arms as they scooped you up. As they brought you to stand on your feet, you accidentally put weight on your injured ankle causing your legs to fold under you with a yelp. Luckily, the person behind you was quick to react and caught you before you hit the ground. You tried to look behind you to see who was holding you up but a crick in your neck told you it was a bad idea and so you just kept your eyes forward.

The brown wolf gave one last shake, yanking the black wolf around before it backed off and gave a threatening growl. The black wolf sprang to its feet and ran off. Once it was some ways away, you heard a howl and another wolf joining in, you assumed it was the other that was chasing you. The brown wolf faced you and your nails dug into the arm of the person behind you. You pushed against the person’s chest but for some reason, they refused to move.

You could swear that the eyes of the wolf were human and were staring at you with sympathy. You held your breath as you waited for this wolf to take its turn attacking you but instead, it took a few step backs. The sound of bones snapping made your stomach churn as you gaped at the wolf slowly transforming into a human. When a human man, naked as the day he was born, was standing in front of you with the same colored hair atop his head as his wolf counterpart, black spots filled your vision and you slumped in the arms of the stranger.

“I’m telling you, this is the girl I ran into two days ago.”

“Taehyung, stop. You’re going to hurt her!”

“Stop, I’m not going to hurt your mate.”

“Taehyung, get out.”

The loud slam of a door jolted you awake and you opened your eyes to see two men surrounding the bed your on. One is tending to your leg and the other is sitting by your head and drops your hand once he sees your eyes are open.

“Jin.” the man draws the attention of the one tending to you to your state.

This Jin has black hair and soft, plump facial features with broad shoulders while the other man is thinner and most likely taller. The other man has silver hair and a weaker jawline than his counterpart though it’s still noticeable. Something about the man is familiar to you but you can’t quite put your finger on why nor do you have the time to.

Jin looks up to you while you scoot yourself back. He gives you a large smile that makes you question whether you’ll be leaving this place alive. Noticing your discomfort, Jin drops his smile with an embarrassed chuckle and clears his throat.

“I noticed your ankle got hurt. I was bandaging it wi-”

“Where am I?” you rudely cut Jin off and scoot further away onto the bed away from him.

His lips part in shock and he glances at the other man before looking back at you. He sputters, “You- um, you’re at, um, well it’s a- our,” Jin tries to explain your location with various gestures and eventually looks to the other man for help.

“This is our cabin. We found you a couple miles away from us and you didn’t look to be in good shape, so we brought you here.” He stares at you for a few moments before seemingly shouting, “I’m Namjoon, by the way,” and nervously laughing.

You disregard Namjoon by looking back to Jin. Your eyes flicker as you connect the dots in your head.

“The werewolf,” you whisper. Your head shoots to Namjoon then back to Jin. “I was attacked by two werewolves. Then there were two other werewolves. I saw one shift right in front of me.” Your eyes widen, “Was there someone with me? There was someone else that was with me. Are they okay?”

You keep your wide eyes on Jin waiting for answers. Your eyes are brought to Namjoon as he comfortingly takes your hand. Or at least tries to because to pull yourself away from him. Namjoon uncomfortably laughs and apologizes to hide the pang of rejection.

“That was Jimin and he’s fine. He helped bring you here.”

“He brought....You’re all werewolves.” You eyeball Namjoon with your eyebrows slightly pinched. You catch Jin flinching in your peripheral vision but Namjoon confidently holds your gaze.

You swing your feet onto the wood floor and stand from the bed which causes Jin to panic and runs around the bed to you. He lightly puts his hands on your shoulders to push you back onto the bed but you slap his hands away from him and limp past him.

Jin follows right behind you and reaches out to grab your upper arm, “Wait, wait, wait. You can’t be on your ankle. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Namjoon calmly stands and walks to you and Jin. There’s something profound lurking in Namjoon’s now darkened eyes. Something you have yet to understand. So you yank open the door, nearly hitting Jin in the face and startling some other man that had his ear pressed to the door. You step over the man on the floor and continue to walk away from Namjoon and Jin. Or at least you try to.

By the time you reach the end of the hall, you're using the wall for support and you feel the bandage around your ankle grow wet with your wound beginning to bleed again. The sight of blood sends Jin into a new frenzy and he begins to frantically beg you to go back to the bed, carry you, or even just sit on the floor so he can care for you. He keeps reaching out to you, but his hands stop just short to touching you as so far you’ve expressed your disdain to personal contact. And making you more upset at him is the last thing Jin wants to do, especially since that means you’ll reject him helping you like he should. Like a mate should.

There are three more men watching you leave a trail of blood to the door. None of them look like the man that shifted in front of you.

Right as you reach what you think is the front door, a hand drags you back by your shoulder. You stumble back and nearly lose your balance but Jin is there to catch you. He angrily scolds Namjoon before turning to you as your face is scrunched in pain.

Namjoon taps Jin out of the way to step in front of you. “You’re injured and don’t know where you are. Realistically, how far do you think you’ll get?”

You gawk at the silver-haired man, “How dare you put your hands on me like that!” You shove against Namjoon’s chest creating some distance between your bodies. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You have absolutely no right to keep me here. If I want to leave, I’m going to leave. It shouldn’t concern you how far I’ll get, I can handle myself.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenches and he meets you glare with one as equally angry. “Fine,” he waves a hand to the door, “go then. But first, you might want to clean up your puddle of blood.”

You look down to your feet to see that you are in fact, standing in a pool of your own blood. While you were yelling at Namjoon, you had shifted your weight to both of your feet equally. You hadn’t even realized you had been bleeding this much.

“Enough!” Jin steps in between you and Namjoon. He looks at both of you with a harsh glare but his gaze promptly softens on you.

“I know you want to leave and no one is stopping you, but you honestly won’t last long with that ankle.” Jin softly explains to you. “Let me take care of you for a few days and take time to heal and then one of us will lead you back to the city. I promise we won’t hurt you.”

You blink at Jin then glance around the room to see all the faces staring at you. A blush forms on your cheek and you shift your weight back onto your good ankle. You mull over all the different ways staying with Namjoon and Jin could go before you finally nod your head. Jin lets out a sigh of relief and moves to lift you, but you shake your head at him. You begin limping back to the room with Jin walking alongside you, arms stretched out, prepared for you to slip at any moment.

Well, it looks like you’re going to be staying with the very creatures you were raised to distrust. This could only go so well.

Permanent Tag: @detectivebourbon @eshika0102 @omgsuperstarg

[kinfriday]

Wandering Hops: Disappointments

Growing up in the deserts of West Texas gave me a special appreciation for the ocean, and temperatures below 115 degrees.  Our summers got so hot, I became convinced that heat was one of our chief exports to hell. No matter where you are, it seemed like  it was always hotter somewhere in Texas. 

However, being on the beach does not make you immune from the sun. I learned that living in Southern California, but at least the breeze coming off the Pacific is cool, and makes the days bearable. 

Even down in Corpus Christi, Tx  near the Gulf of Mexico, eight hours from where I grew up, the air was so thick with humidity you could cut slices of it out of the air, and save it for later. Which made it a dubious respite at best and a “living in the worlds largest dryer vent simulator” at worst. 

Does it sound like I’m complaining? Maybe I’m just venting. I’ve apparently built up some steam about this topic. 

Ok, there’s our terrible pun allotment for this blog post… Moving on.

To summarize, the ocean has always held a type of special allure to me. 

For one, any large expanse of sparkling blue water was a rarity in my life, and for two, the sight of the Atlantic was associated in my mind with a one time summer trip to Disney World when I was six, and visiting my Mom’s side of the family in the North East. We’d go to the “Shore” (bonus points for you if that tells you the state) and spend a few days enjoying the colder waters, enjoying our respite from the desert sun. 

Yet my entire life, up until I was 26, I had never ventured further west than Albuquerque. The Pacific was a mystery to me. The first time I saw it, was from the dirty window of an eighteen wheeler, hauling freight while in driver training. Far off down the street was a horizon of shimmering blue, during a spring-like November day in Los Angeles. 

The traffic had been hell, the parking worse (my vehicle was 70ft long, tip to tip) but suddenly, all of my problems lifted. 

There it was, off in the horizon, the big blue water of the west. Fabled in song and story. 

The Pacific Ocean. 

It is a treasured memory, and has stuck with me, even though I ended up living in Southern California with my then fiance, and now husband. Ironically, in many ways, the Ocean is a desert in its own right. Nothing truly lives only on the surface amongst its waves.  In fact, most  life there is out of sight, far below the water line. Yet the climate, and it’s beauty is so radically different from anything I had ever really known, outside of a few moments from my youth. 

And, amidst the wonder, the grind of daily life, and all those memories, I somehow had yet to visit the Pacific Ocean here in my home state of Washington. 

In short, I decided it was high time to fix that. 

The North Head Discovery trail is a there-and-back hike rated as moderate difficulty. Its challenge arises mainly from its mileage, and the slight increase in elevation at its end. My hiking app gave me maps which combine it with the Cape Disappointment Lighthouse trail, giving it an elevation challenge. 

I set out from the parking lot of a resort that donates parking space for trail goers. The trail itself was wide and paved, nothing like what I was accustomed to. A discovery trail is different from your normal hiking trail, in that it focuses on historical and/or scientific curiosities in the area.  It’s not just an adventure, it’s a field trip, and for a history buff, this made it especially appealing. You see, Lewis and Clark were there, in 1805. Strewn along the straight, southern path are tiny diversions leading to monuments, and statues, detailing their journeys, and pages from their journals describing events they encountered on the very ground you are walking upon connecting you to their time. 

There are gateway arches over the entrance to each parking lot you cross that in proud, bold numbers, proclaiming 1805 showing the  pride the community takes in their current history. 

The focus is mainly upon the expedition itself, and the local flora and fauna, but there is one placard detailing a limited history of the Chinook, the indigenous people that called that area home before they were ultimately, and unfairly displaced off their land by America’s dream of manifest destiny. 

In this, I found the trail especially lacking. To know more of this people, and their history, while venturing on the shorelines where they once lived, thrived, and built their society would have served as a fitting counterpoint to the Lewis and Clark Expedition which ultimately functioned as a herald of the end to their way of life.  

Overall, this feeling of imbalance greatly stuck with me as I veered south after my first quarter mile. I was now easily able to hear the roar of the waves, smell the ocean, and feel the cool breeze but I still could not see it. An endless sea of dune grass instead, like the world’s largest shag carpet, stretched out before me as I moved along the easy, wide path, wondering when I would get my chance. 

At half a mile in, I couldn’t take it anymore, and diverted down a side trail, heading sharply west. Breaking over the sand dune, and there it was in all of its majesty

I stood there, and took it all in. Here I was, well over 1500 miles from where I had first seen it, and yet, this was the same patch of big blue water. The enormity of it boggled my mind, and caused me to take a deep breath, if only to recenter myself, as I pondered the vastness of the machinery of the Earth. 

Still, I was not there to stare, not there to have a day playing upon the beach. I was there to hike a trail, and make miles. Taking one last look, I turned back towards my task, and got to work, stopping at a convenient bench to knock the sand out of my shoes. 

Soon, the ocean disappeared behind the dunes, and I was back amongst the grassy expanse, cooled by the breeze and all the while being baked by the sun; heading south at a constant, rhythmic pace. 

It got meditative. There wasn’t much to do, and there wasn’t much to see besides occasional informational placards and monuments, which sometimes broke me out of my forward moving stupor, and other times, failed to arouse my interest. The first hour passed, and then, about half way through my second, I came to an inescapable realization. 

I was bored. 

In the hiking community, watching videos, I’ve heard the term “type two fun.” Type Two fun is something that is fun after the fact. You look back on the memory of its accomplishment fondly, even though at the time you were, uncomfortable, overworked, bored, or any number of mildly to severely unpleasant feelings. 

As I plodded along it seemed to me that, save for a few moments, this hike was going to be full of the type two fun, and I found myself disheartened. Stopping in my tracks just over four miles in I looked back the way I came as questions danced through my mind. 

Should I go home? Give up? Call it an early day? Did I really want to complete this trail, or was I content with saying I tried, and it wasn’t for me? 

The decision grew heavier, as I looked forward towards my goals. When I hike the PCT in 2020, I know there will be times when I’m bored, and when I just don’t want to hike. I might be sore, or just fed up, and as I pondered, it became apparent to me that giving up, was a habit, as was perseverance. If I quit today because I was bored, or uninterested, it was going to be that much easier to quit next time… when the workout got hard, or the trail challenging, or when the sentence wouldn’t come for my novel. 

That simply wouldn’t do, so, turning back towards the south, I dug in, kicked on my audio book, and enjoyed the scenery I did have, putting away my expectations. 

I’ll be honest, there were times when the trail seemed to drag by with all the rapidity of a snail on ketamine but I set a goal for myself to clear as quickly as I could to work on my pacing. 

With a goal in mind, and a good audiobook pouring from my headset, another hour passed, as a small mountain came into view, and suddenly, there was a full beach to my right with the ocean pounding against the waves. 

Here before me was a profound type of liminal space. Not just ocean and shore, but ocean, shore and forest all meeting in one collision of juxtaposed beauty. Breaking out of the dune grass, there was an entirely new vista before me now, as the trail tilted up, carrying me forward, and providing me with some elevation challenge, until I crossed one parking lot, then another, and came upon an old lighthouse perched at its top, with a sweeping view of the Pacific before me. 

It was an experience I would have never had, if I had turned back. Enjoying my reward, snapping a few pictures for posterity, I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and turned around for the  7.5 mile journey back to my truck, happy that I had stayed on the trail. 

[tarralin]

MorningAfter

Fox Hunt, Chapter Six

Enjoy!

(Board gifted by @under-sengoku-skies)

Find my Master List, Ao3, and Ko-Fi in blog bio!

Thank you again to @tsundere-mitsuhide for all your help and beta reading.

~*~

RM planted her boot atop the shattered stone monument as she gazed up into the clouds. The Kyoto weather forecast called for clear, sunny skies and the sudden storm rolling in sent those around her scurrying for cover in nearby restaurants. She would be too on any other day… but not this day. Nope.

This day she needed those clouds.

After finally recovering from the horror of her best friend’s disappearance, RM tracked down all of Sasuke the Science Kid's research. She had been appalled at the lack of safeguards on such documents with the only means of protection being kept away in his locker in the Science labs of the university he attended. Yeah, like that would keep a trained mercenary out. No wonder someone had reported his findings... the kid practically begged for the eyes of the government!

It took a great deal of Google’s help to translate the more spacey-sciencey terms and concepts of the research but RM was at least able to pin down the basics. The algorithmic calculations were both a breeze and a blessing that allowed her to calculate the next several occurrences. As the world’s best sniper, she prided herself on being a living, breathing graphing calculator.

RM straightened her backpack straps once more at the first rumble of thunder. She could feel the flash of goosebumps ripple across neck and down her spine. She wouldn’t lie to herself. She was terrified; afraid of the effects her trip could cause, afraid of landing somewhere further out of reach from MC, afraid of being stuck when she got there. Even with all of Sasuke's research keeping her rifle company in her bag, she knew that was what she should fear most but no… Her worst fear was losing MC, part of the only family she had left.

A grateful smile crossed RM's features when the lightning struck her.

~*~

Sunlight.

Cursed sunlight.

With a moan, MC pulled the covers over her head and turned away from the windows in attempt to quell the pounding pulse behind her eyes. What I wouldn’t give for an aspirin and a Gatorade right now… At least I have today off.

It took an entire carafe of water for the headache to subside to a manageable level. Or, at the very least, one that allowed her to pretend she didn’t have a hangover from Hell. The kitchen was the first place she found herself once venturing from her room and immediately regretted her existence.

“Lass!” Masamune bellowed out as he caught sight of her. “Good morning!”

Her hand came up immediately and landed softly on his face to keep him at bay, no doubt he would try wrapping her in a suffocating hug just to annoy her. “Can you… not shout?”

Confusion flitted over his eyes. “This is how I normally speak…”

“Well, then… don’t?”

He laughed at that but continued about the kitchen with a noticeable effort on keeping silent. She fixed herself a light breakfast and headed to the one spot of the palace that she knew none would find her.

The majority of the garden received at least a cursory attempt at maintenance. The farthest corners were a different story altogether. Due to the on going war effort, the darkest parts of the garden were left to themselves and now grew feral in the absence of would be gardeners. Shameful, really. Through the moss, MC could see signs of two wisteria trees flourishing in spite of the wilderness surrounding them. Almost as if they were the last standing paladins against an army of invaders.

MC inspected the sky above and determined she still had the whole day to herself while scarfing down the last of her breakfast. If last night revealed anything, it was the fact she had let her hormones get the best of her and she had a lot of thinking to do. She always thought best while working anyway.

She allowed her thoughts to stray freely as she climbed the first tree and began plucking clumps of moss from the branches. This wasn’t her time. She was going home in eight weeks and she shouldn’t be trying to form permanent ties or giving into temptations. Tipsy or not, she had always remained in control of her hormones; anyone who landed in her bed had clearly voiced their mutual interest before and after drinks. She hated admitting to it but Mitsuhide was right. She hadn’t been thinking clearly.

And casual encounters were out of the equation entirely. Hell, is casual even a thing here?

Have you met Masamune? Have you seen Hideyoshi and Angel Boy when they’re in town? Please! They’re practically the inventors of casual! MitsuWho? Nope, sorry, don’t know him. MitSINari on the other hand... And let’s not get started on Mr. HOEbunaga before he gave up and turned into Big Bro Nobu.

MC giggled to herself as she continued to clear away moss and weeds. By noon, she was smiling with pride. She had fully demossed both trees single handedly as well as cleared their immediate vicinity of all overgrowth. Quite a feat, if I do say so myself. She also had a game plan for the next two months to avoid a certain-

“You really can't sit still, can you?”

Well, that was over before it began.

With a sigh, MC looked up from her crouch to the familiar golden eyes and quickly ran through her options. One: she could snap at him to leave but he would take too much joy in that. Two: she could leave the garden herself, effectively giving him the cold shoulder, but that felt too much like surrender.

“If you’re going to state the obvious, could you at least make yourself useful while you do?” She quickly turned back to the weeds awaiting her attention regardless of how much she really wanted to watch that smirky smirk fall right off his face. There, a third option. Although, throwing the ball into his court wasn’t a part of the initial plan of avoiding him. Too late now!

“Please, don’t stop singing on my account. You have such lovely expressions when that guard of yours comes down.” A chuckle rolled from his chest as he crossed the garden.

“I wasn’t singing.” Was I? Shit, I probably was! I don’t even know what song he heard!

“You seem to favor that particular one,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’ve heard it in the halls when you focus on your tasks. Though I have heard others from your voice, that one comes up the most. Don’t know the words of course, since you only sing in what I assume is your native tongue but…”

He’s whistling? It was such a care free action from his normally pensive features she could only watch. As stunned as she was, it wasn’t until he got to the tune's chorus did she recognize the song and hummed along. Ah, yes. Try by Colbie Calliat. RM always catches me with that one, too.

Mitsuhide was still whistling when he finally came to stand at her side. His shadow loomed over her a moment before something dropped to the ground in front of her face.

“You… brought me gloves?” She glanced up again to find Mitsuhide pulling on a pair of his own. MC raised a brow as she slipped the gifted gloves over her grass stained hands. “How-”

“Please don’t say sweet, I don't think my teeth would be able to handle it.” He teased with a sneer.

“Convenient. Must be some kind of hangover I have going on...” She paused, eyeing the beautiful man before her as he crouched and began yanking invading parasites from the earth. She should shut up now and continue with operations Avoidance and Cold Shoulder… but here she was, evaluating new options so soon after deciding it was best to stay away from him. But, then again, this was Mitsuhide and her usual rules of detachment seemed to fly out the window with him around. And he did always seem to find her. And it was just so tempting to see him squirm! Although, going the path less traveled meant giving up pieces to gain pieces.

But they'll be new pieces.

Okay. Fine. Decision made. I surrender to the universe!

“Must be some hangover I have going on because, normally… I’m aware of your voyeurism…”

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Til Kingdom Come

Jurassic World

Summary: Claire and Owen celebrate a wedding anniversary  

Part: 9/12

Words: 3,358

Two in one week it’s almost like I found my groove again!

Thank you for being so patient when I wasn’t writing. I am really appreciative of that respect to my downtime, you guys didn’t make me feel rushed or like I had to come back to finish posting for you. 

AO3

TIL KINGDOM COME - PART NINE

‘East Court will replace the livestock you lost.’ Claire announced, civilian standing a few feet from the throne she occupied. Owen kept his distance, knowing the loss of livestock had been his fault. More accurately, blame lingered over the heads of the four beasts that followed him. ‘And I promise, if my husband’s wolves cause you any more grief, I will see to it myself that they are punished.’ He had not announced himself or made a noise, regardless, Claire’s eyes found his in the room, gaze unforgiving in just the way she had promised.

She could be kind and cruel. She wanted the opportunity to prove it and Owen was pleased to see her sat in East Court, throne supporting her as Grady subjects trusted Claire to pass the right judgement. Two of the wolves she promised to end had their skirmishes continued sat on either side of her throne. They were unbothered by the words she said, the threat of their lives only causing a slight twitch in their ears as they sat tall beside his wife.

He loved watching her. Claire commanded the room with a power he had never seen. Theon never had the patience for the civilian court, to hear out civil debates and keep the grounds peaceful. Anyone who came to Owen with complaints of a threat to their livestock or land was seen to personally. He took too long to solve issues because he refused to send someone else. Owen thought himself wholly responsible for the people that lived off his father’s land.

‘You’re blind to those beasts.’ Claire hummed, East Court closed for the rest of the afternoon as she left the throne and crossed the room to join him. Owen shrugged with a wide grin. ‘I understand that you love them but they are wild animals and they are being destructive.’

‘I’ll feed them more.’ He was dismissive. ‘You don’t know that it was the girls.’ Claire crossed her arms over her chest, her disgruntled stance resting atop the large swell of her belly. He wanted to chuckle, share his mirth in how humorous she looked, trying to be mad whilst heavily pregnant. But, Owen knew her anger was scornful. She would hurt him if she felt it was well deserved. ‘There are wolves in the woods you know.’

‘The farmers say the wolves in the woods don’t approach the properties.’

‘And you’ll believe the farmers over my word?’ He was defensive, a little annoyed and trying not to allow the temper to bother him. Owen didn’t show up in court to start an argument, he came to seek her out, knowing they were closing the doors a few minutes before he arrived.

Claire readjusted her stance, shoulders rolling as she peered around his side. ‘Where are Blue and Charlie?’ She felt that statement would prove her point. Owen liked to boast the domestication of his animals but he wasn’t in complete control. His two head girls were missing from his side, her husband answering that he didn’t want them in court with civilians.

‘I ain’t here to argue with you, Princess.’ His hand found the back of her elbow, squeezing softly as he tried to direct her outdoors. The truth of the matter was, Owen had occasions where he didn’t know where the girls were. He respected their space and they were never gone for long. He didn’t own them, considered them to be wild but trusted that they had his and Claire’s wellbeing at heart.

Claire sighed, falling into step beside him as they left Grey Castle’s court. ‘I’m just saying, your father cannot afford to replace every chicken, sheep or cow that gets devoured in the night. We live off what they farm too.’ Owen hummed, humouring her. ‘You know, this is how empires fall.’ She was trying to be helpful and he loved that she was aware of these issues, concerned about the livelihood of his people, but these were his animals that were at blame and Owen couldn’t sit there and take it. ‘It’s okay to admit that you don’t know where they are sometimes.’

Owen shook his head. ‘They never go too far.’ Was all he told her as he beamed, sun greeting their faces, castle breaking away from their backs. Blue and Charlie were sitting outside, lying really, Blue with her head on Charlie’s back. Echo and Delta picked up their step, no longer trailing behind their masters as they moved to join their sisters.

‘Where are we going?’ Claire asked, spotting her horse saddled up and tied beside Owen’s. Her husband shrugged, grin climbing across his cheeks as he took her hand. ‘Are you finally going to share whatever it is you have been doing in secret?’ She teased, interest getting the better of her as his glee squeezed her hand.

‘Are you going to be okay to ride?’ He asked, caution suddenly dawning on him.

Claire propped a hand on her hip. ‘I’m pregnant, not confined to my bed.’ He could argue that she was a few months earlier, pregnancy sickness keeping her tucked between the sheets of their bed as she hid for days on end, willing the dizzying headaches to go away. She was mobile again, her churning stomach turned solid as she went about her duties in East Court or continued to pester Owen for a real sword between small hunting trips.

That was when she could find her husband. He had been mysteriously busy, promising he had something planned for her but unwilling to share in what exactly. Claire was sure he just didn’t want to be bothered, the man growing impatient with a lack of space between them as her activities were restricted.

She pushed up on her toes to kiss his cheek fondly, her hand tight on his shoulder. She appreciated his worry, no matter the capacity or how he expressed it. He was right to be concerned, Claire was sure, with her belly as round as it was, that she should not be mounting a horse. Despite all that, Claire was going to follow no matter where he was taking her.

Owen watched her for a second, internally accessing whether it was right to potentially put his pregnant wife in harm's way. She only stood in front of him with her arms crossed over her swelling belly, face defiant as she stared him down.

[…]

It was a nice day for a ride. The perfect kind where the sun shone, warmth broke by a slight breeze as the trees whistled above their heads. Owen kept the pace excruciatingly slow despite Claire’s complaints that she could walk faster.

He was being cautious and if she took a minute to breathe rather than being annoyed by his care, Claire would be in awe. It was refreshing to know her husband wanted her safe and sound, secure and comfortable which had been a promise long before their child made an appearance in her womb. Claire felt settled in the security of his watch, comforted that he had her back despite the threats of his father looming over her head. It could easily have gone the other way, boy standing by the man who raised him no matter the risk it would take on other lives.

She was trying not to think about it too much. Instead, Claire wanted to focus on the cool air on the bare skin of her neck, how she wished it could blow right through the dress she wore to caress her hot skin. She listened to the movement in the woods, the rattle of leaves and the crunch of twigs underfoot. If she was quiet and her focus was drawn just so she could hear the scurry of little animals or the chirp of small birds.

She knew where they were going before the journey was over. They had been out there a few times in the last handful of months and even though Claire had not ventured out there recently, she recognised the path he was taking.

It wasn’t long before the cliffs broke out in front of her, wide expanse of the ocean stretching before her eyes as she soaked it all in. Claire felt settled, every fibre of her being relaxing in the open grass and wild waters.

Her eyes teared, husband beside her helping Claire down from her horse as he kissed her cheek. ‘I have missed this place.’ She told him softly, breathless as she inched closer to the view, Echo bumping against her leg as the wolf followed her closely. His beasts had been weaving in and out of the horses’ way the whole ride, causing amuck as they hunted down rabbits along the path. For the most part, they stuck by Claire and Allegra.

Owen had made good on his promise. A small cottage stood tall and proud just before the woods stretched into tall trees. It was set back from the cliffs, almost hidden at the end of the clearing but noticeable to Claire’s watery eyes. Her husband had to turn her towards it before she realised.

She gasped, surprise catching in the back of her throat as her hands clung to his arm, squeezing tight as she turned her face to gape at him. ‘I promised.’ He told her, leaning in to kiss her again. ‘And, it’s our wedding anniversary. I thought you deserved something of your own.’

‘I — Owen.’ She wanted to blame her tears on the baby, her head in the wrong place as she stared at the thatched roof and the shutters, every small detail making it look more and more like a cottage from the edge of town. ‘How did you?’ It explained why he kept disappearing on her, his men conveniently unaware of their Lord as Bart tried to distract her for an afternoon or two.

Her husband shrugged, arm enlaced with hers. ‘Called in a lot of favours to have it finished quickly. You deserve it, Princess. You deserve the world.’ He kissed her again, this time capturing her chin with his thumb and forefinger as he directed his mouth to hers. She gave in without a fight, kissing him back with gusto as her disbelief transferred itself to her lips.

‘I don’t even know where to begin in thanking you.’

He shook his head. ‘You’re giving me a son, that is thanks enough.’

It was perfect. Enough to make her forget they were the heirs of a throne for a few days or a few hours. Claire could think herself and Owen as simple folk with no worries as their son slept peacefully in the fresh air away from the cold and hostile stone of the castle.

It was exactly the escape she had dreamed of.

‘Here, I want to show you something.’ He took her hand, pulling Claire towards the cottage and leading her inside.

The place was spacious and fully functioning as a home. They had a kitchen and a table to eat at, a warm fire to sit in front of and cosy chairs to hold them captive. The cottage only had one room, sitting on the second floor with full view of their living space. The bed was wide, Claire was sure it was a little bigger than the one they had in their cambers, this one designed to fit themselves and their toddler son, who would hopefully still be eager for a cuddle. Owen wouldn’t admit it out loud and Claire would pretend the idea hadn’t entered her mind but there was space for all four of their girls to climb up and nap with them if they so chose.

That wasn’t what Owen was trying to show her. He wanted Claire to be wooed by the whole cottage but the surprise came in something smaller. She noticed it when he helped her climb the stairs, instructing her to sit on the edge of the bed as he gallantly gestured towards a crib pressed against the wall.

Claire praised the piece of furniture, getting up to touch it as she ran her fingers along the engravings, touch inspecting the make as she stood in awe. ‘I made it.’ Owen told her, shyly. ‘It’s where I’ve been — out here, overseeing the cottage and chippin’ away at this.’ Claire caught and imperfection here and there, the wood bowing, something not quite linear but the crib was lovely, darling, the exact sort of thing she wanted her baby to sleep in. It was only better that her husband had made it.

‘I know I haven’t been the best husband.’ Owen announced, voice soft as he took a place on the edge of the bed, eyes not quite watching his wife with the crib he had made. Claire opened her mouth to protest. He had been nothing but kind and patient. He treated her to such lovely things, new clothes and a sparring partner worthy of her time. He built her a cottage and made a crib for their child. Claire would not hesitate in announcing he made her extremely happy.

Owen shook his head. ‘I have not been able to protect you from my father.’ She wanted to argue that Theon had not touched her. Beyond his words and her personal fears, she was safe from the man. ‘I should be doing something about him, Claire, I should —-‘

‘You know that it is treason.’ She warned. ‘You’re a smart man, Owen, you would not put me in danger like that.’

‘But I have hurt you and I have let you be hurt.’

Claire frowned, arms crossed over her chest as she watched him, waiting for the man to spit his words out. ‘You have done no such thing.’ She was stern.

Owen nodded. ‘Our wedding night.’ His words were so soft she barely heard him, Claire blinking as she watched his drooping shoulders.

‘Was our wedding night and despite it being less than pleasant it had to happen.’ Owen shook his head. ‘Owen, look at me.’ She waited for a beat, watching as the man dragged his eyes to hers. ‘You knew what your father would do. What he is capable of. If we did not consummate our marriage vows he would have been done with the both of us. We would have been over before we even had a chance. You knew that. Don’t you dare act like there wasn’t anything at risk.’ The lines on his face were angry and thick, the man nodding as he looked towards the window above their bed. ‘We were married a year ago. What was done is done and it is long behind us. I wish you would stop bringing it up just to torture yourself and to frustrate me.’ He nodded, grunting at her softly. ‘I did not want to fight with you today.’ It had been their third argument since waking.

‘The crib is beautiful, so is the house. Thank you for this life even when you think it isn’t perfect. I am happy, Owen.’ They had started off on the wrong foot a year ago but they had quickly realigned their path, the two of them caught on each other. ‘You need to worry less, everything will work out fine.’

She sat beside him. The bed dipped under her weight as Claire sighed. A damper had been put on the mood and she suddenly found herself lost in the situation. Claire shuffled to the middle of the bed, legs crossed as she watched the side of her husband’s face. ‘You know, he doesn’t have a name.’ She told him, a hand rubbing across her swollen middle.

‘We haven’t talked about that, have we?’ He turned to her, half mirroring her position as a single leg dangled off the side of the bed. Claire shook her head. They had not discussed the prospect of names for their child.

'I always thought I would name my sons after my brothers but given recent circumstances, I do not want to see my sons follow their footsteps.’ Claire had once admired her brothers, Merrick and Henry were everything to her as a girl. They had power and persuasion, everyone looked to them for an opinion and advice no matter the problem. Her brothers were confident, controlled and destined for greatness. She considered them role models, her heroes until Merrick shipped her off and neither Henry nor her father put in a good word to keep their sister and daughter around. ‘They are nothing to me now and if my sons dare to do what Merrick did, they will have to face my wrath.’

She was still trying to put her finger on the pulse of her betrayal. Owen had turned out to be the best match for her but Claire was not ever going to forgive the cold and ruthless way Merrick had shoved her out. She was lucky that Owen was good and kind. Her brothers were lucky that Owen was good and kind, they would not have seen their sisters wrath coming if they had sent her to a wicked man. They were not entirely in the clear. If Theon harmed her baby, not only would she tear the man apart but she would seek out Merrick and make him pay for it to.

Owen shook his head. ‘Our child should have his own name. Something strong like James or Adam.’ His wife crinkled her nose, displeasure colouring her cheeks. ‘What?’

‘They’re not very good.’

Owen laughed, the sound a bark as Echo jumped up on the bed between them. ‘You are ridiculous.’ He grinned at her, rolling his eyes as her hand found Echo’s soft fur.

‘I want to name him Humphrey.’ She told him, watching the same dissatisfied crinkle appear in the lines on his nose. ‘It means peaceful warrior. I thought you might find that fitting.’ She could see that he still didn’t like it but was trying to come around to the idea.

Owen’s grin was sly, slow as it crawled across his face. ‘Whatever makes you happy, Princess.’ He was sure that he could find a name to call his son when his wife wasn’t listening. She grinned, copying the sly quirk of his lip like she could read his thoughts.

‘Why so agreeable?’ She asked, smile climbing up her cheeks as she watched a fire start in his eyes.

Owen lent in without a word, only another quirk of his lip as he kissed her softly. ‘I love you, Princess.’ She met him for another kiss, their lips touching gracefully as her smile relaxed to something akin to peace. ‘It scares the shit out of me, but by the Gods, I love you.’

She watched him through lidded blue eyes, lashes kissing her cheeks as she blinked. He frustrated her beyond means on occasion, but he also did crazy wonderful things. He had a cottage built for her, secluded in a place she loved. He built a crib for their baby with incredible detail. He put her needs before his own and ensured she felt safe even when the odds were stacked against them. ‘Well, I love you.’ She told him, hand reaching out to wrap her fingers around his. ‘You insufferable man.’ She giggled, pulling back as the lovely look on his face melted away to realisation.

Owen laughed, lunging at his wife despite the small gap between them as her back hit the mattress with the aid of his hands lowering her down. She squealed with glee, Echo jumping to a stand as she growled at Owen, in the protective mode before she realised they were playing.

‘You insufferable woman.’ Owen teased, rolling them so Claire was straddling him, back bending as she lent down to press her lips to his. ‘Happy anniversary, my love.’ He pulled himself up, half sitting as he met her for another kiss, one hand supporting the curve of her stomach, his fingers splayed across the width of their growing child.

‘We are going to conquer the worlds.’ She told him ever so quietly, her words a whisper and a promise that he almost missed.

[cenniedolls]

Kyprian ventures into the forest surrounding the bog wearing Zetherain’s red cloak, and even though these woods and the wetlands beyond are familiar, they feel deep and strange today in the fading light.  The cedars loom over him, thick trunks covered in rough bark and cool moss, and even though he knows the texture, there is something off about it now, with the last full moon of autumn waxing bright far above.  Damp and uneven beneath his feet, the forest floor is no different than any other day, scattered with shallow pools of still water and jagged rocks, but Kyprian feels threatened by it in a way that goes deeper than the risk of twisting an ankle in the dark.  The seasons turn sharply here, but it is more than the simple seasonal change making the air itself feel heavy against what little skin Kyprian has bared to it.

The bog belongs to the witch, after all.  This first ring of cedar swamp less than the moose meadows beyond, and that less than the acidic sphagnum heart of the bog proper, but the people of Havenswood don’t come this far without good cause.  Kyprian knows the witch just as well as he knows the forest, though, and she doesn’t scare him.  Nerai is unpredictable, capricious; but she is no villain like the witches in the village stories.  It’s her creatures he is wary of, both those created by Nerai that are familiar vegetation given unfamiliar sentience, and those that are themselves, first, and merely give allegiance to the witch.  First among these is the wolf.  This time of year, he is even less predictable than usual.

The moon is glowing silver over the whispering sedges of the moose meadow by the time Kyprian makes it through the cedars.  He pauses at the edge of the trees, eyes adjusting to the new light; it is nowhere near the light of day, as some stories might suggest, but after the near complete black behind him, the moonlight is too much.  There is a lantern hanging cold at his hip, but it had felt too invasive to bring lit, and Kyprian does not want to risk a feeling like that, not now.  He is beginning to feel that even the deep red of his cloak is too strong, tonight, the velvet nearly as dangerous as firelight.  There is no substance to the danger, though, no definition and no rationalization - Kyprian knows this place, knows its creatures and its people, but still he has to draw himself together to step out into the moonlight.

Both quieter and louder than the cedar swamp, the moose meadow is full of the whisper of grass and sedge, yet empty of the sudden animal noises of the forest.  The ground here is uniformly damp, sinking slightly beneath Kyprian’s feet as he parts the grasses to pass through.  There are paths through the meadow, but he cannot trust them.  That’s one thing the village stories get right.

Even though the rustling he causes passing through sounds deafening in the night, Kyprian knows that he won’t hear the wolf coming if Sage decides to sneak up on him.  The wolf has long since mastered moving soundlessly, even here in the stiff sedge and crisp grasses.

Farther in, and there are hummocks of brush rising from the bog; the uniform meadow gives way to deeper water, masked in places by thick sphagnum moss looking like an innocent forest floor over sucking mud.  Solid ground is tricky to find, here.  One way is to stay close to the brush, but some of the hillocks are tiny floating islands just waiting to tip the unwary into the murky water.  Narrow, bristly spruce trees spear up in places, golden tamaracks in others, but even the ground around these trees may be too unstable for human feet.  

Kyprian has walked through the bog many times before, and knows all of its tricks.  As many as anyone can, at least.  Without living here, he is sure it’s impossible to truly understand the place, but Kyprian doesn’t step into the smooth floating carpet of sphagnum moss, or try to use the drifting brush islands to hold his weight.  He doesn’t investigate the sweet smell, something between apple cider and the chocolates Zetherain used to love, wafting from the unnaturally large pitcher plant out in the bog, or follow the fluttering lights between the trees at the corner of his vision, or let the sinuous movements just under the surface of the open patches of water unnerve him.  The bog is full of Nerai’s creatures, and he has seen all these before.  She likes things that push at boundaries - makes creatures larger, faster; gives them more agency, intelligence, strange new traits drawn from somewhere else.  Bats that glow like lightning bugs and live off moonlight; lightning bugs the size of bats that dip and dive through the water eating fish.  All these creatures follow only their own natures and the will of the witch herself, though.  Thus, they’re predictable.  Nerai’s tentacle monsters are the stuff of nightmares, but it just goes to show that you can get used to anything, because Kyprian knows them now, and can avoid them accordingly.  Not so with the wolf.

It’s not as though Sage is the wolf from village stories, a poorly disguised metaphor for the consequences of discouraged actions.  He’s not the danger of leaving home given physical form - or perhaps he is that - or the pitfalls of new adulthood - although there are moments Kyprian can see the parallel - or some mindless beast, ravening in the woods.  In stories, the wolf is a convenient symbol or a simple danger, but in the witch’s bog, her wolf is altogether more complicated.

Be careful of the wolf, Zetherain had said, one of the last things he told Kyprian before leaving.  It was a bit late for that.  Be careful of what?  Sage’s sharp claws and canine teeth?  The smoky edge to his smirks, and the way he stands a bit too close?  Or the way he rolls in the sweet-smelling sedges behind the witch’s house in the warm days of summer, full of simple joy, and the softness of his furry ears?

All of these things, maybe.  The wolf is a complicated figure, and carries a variety of dangers.  On a night like this, full of moonlight and sharp with the first edge of winter, that danger is perhaps at its most literal.  On a night like this, Sage is a creature of the bog, first, and something human after.

Kyprian picks his way steadily closer to the stand of trees near the center of the bog, where the witch has built her house.  There’s an expanse of open water beside it, not quite a lake and nothing like the Pool where the bog meets the mountains.  Still, it is the most predictable area in this part of the bog, with a paradoxically solid shoreline between the floating mosses and the ring of cattails and rushes surrounding the water.  Kyprian allows himself a short breath of relief when he reaches it, and of course that’s when the wolf strikes.

There’s a howl that contains at least some of the sounds of his name, and Sage pounces out of a stand of golden tamaracks teetering at the edge of the solid ground.  Kyprian gets a glimpse of shining eyes and bright teeth, before Sage barrels into him and they crash into the shallow water and crisp cattails.  Startled despite knowing that something of the sort must be coming, Kyprian shrieks, spluttering as some of the bog gets into his eyes and mouth.

Sage is laughing at him, but even as they fell the wolf turned to take most of their weight, so Kyprian is not nearly as bruised or muddy as he could be.  He barely has time for the thought before Sage is up again, bounding around with his tail thrashing behind him.  So it’s one of those nights, after all.

“Trick or treat,” Kyprian says, as dry as possible while he’s sitting waist-deep in water, picking duckweed off his face.  Sage just howls with laughter, rolling to a stop at the edge of the shore.  He’s a bit more wolfish than usual, tonight, hands more clawed and feet more like paws, fur all the way to his rolled-up pants, but even though his eyes are full of wild energy, it’s not the dark kind Kyprian sometimes finds there.

“Nerai’s got the treats,” Sage says.  “C’mon, come inside.”

Kyprian accepts a hand up, and leans into Sage when the wolf slings an arm around his waist.  A few more steps around the curve of the shore, and there’s the witch’s house, lights gleaming in the windows.  Orange, purple, strangely black; still, the light is welcoming, and Kyprian likes the way it reflects off the water, swirling through the silver moonlight.  The witch has a flair for the dramatic, but an eye for beauty too.

There are pumpkins carved with faces on the step, and cobwebs hanging from the eaves.  One of the pumpkins cackles at them; another winks, leering far more effectively than a vegetable should.  A massive spider swings out of the way as Kyprian raises his hand to knock on the door.

“Trick or treat,” he calls, put somewhat at ease by the fact that Sage is still at his side.  Not that the witch would think twice before pranking the wolf along with him, but at least they’re in it together.

She just opens the door with a gleeful shriek and an armful of candy, though.  Everyone else is already here - Zetherain is waiting by the window, projecting indifference; Finael is slouched at the table with Lilon next to her; Lilon is pouting, looking askance at the massive pair of costume rabbit ears on Finael’s head.  Nerai herself is wearing a ridiculously oversized witch’s hat in the style of children’s stories, and Kyprian is sure she’s responsible for Finael’s rabbit ears as well.

“Finally!” the witch crows.  She snaps her fingers, treats abandoned to float in the air beside her, and Kyprian’s wet cloak sweeps off his shoulders to hang next to the hearth.  Sage drags him into the next room, bundling him into a dry sweater and pants, entirely more hindrance than help.  Kyprian stumbles, giggles, gets a mouthful of Sage’s hair and a faceful of his ears.  He can just make out Zetherain’s low voice through the half-closed door, and Nerai’s laugh clear as a bell.  She sweeps him into a chair when they come back out, and suddenly the table is full of pie and candies, and a bowl of shining red apples.

“Lilon did the baking,” Sage says, with a sly glance at Nerai.  “So it’s all safe.”

She kicks his feet out from under him as he moves toward his seat, and Sage topples into Finael, who just sighs.  Even she is smiling, though; it’s faint, but some of the chill is missing from her eyes.  Across the table, Zetherain rolls his eyes.

“You’d think he’d learn,” he says, gesturing at Sage, but looking just at Kyprian.  

Kyprian can hardly contain the warmth rising in his chest, entirely separate from the flickering candles and the fire in the hearth.  He hadn’t expected Zetherain to make it back tonight, all the way from Merstithe; it’s almost as rare to see Finael and Lilon in the same room, and neither of them fighting with Nerai.  The sweater Sage gave him smells like dog and musty wool, the candles are sparking in unnatural colors and the flames move like snakes, Lilon looks ready to bolt and there’s a cluster of lightning bats hanging in the rafters, but this is perfect.

Lilon slides his chair closer, away from Finael and Sage on the window seat, and hands Kyprian a plate.  “Pumpkin,” he says, pointing to one pie, then the others.  “Apple.  Cherry, peach, pecan.”  His ears twitch, luminous green eyes careful on the last pie.  “Nerai made that one.  I don’t trust it.”

The witch just scoffs, leaning against the back of Kyprian’s chair, but she won’t get rough with the bunny the way she does with Sage.  “It’s perfectly safe.  Delicious, even.  I’m certain of it.”

The surface of the pie bulges, the movement not unlike Nerai’s creatures in the swamp.  Kyprian takes a slice of apple pie, and Lilon adds a large spoonful of whipped cream.

“You try it first,” Sage says, leaning back in his own chair.  “Me, I’ll stick with the bunny’s baking.”

Finael takes a pointed bite of apple, the crisp fruit snapping under her teeth.  Her plate contains a thin slice of every pie but Nerai’s.  “A shame to let it go to waste,” she says, without inflection.

Finael, the witch has no compunctions about getting physical with; Nerai drops herself into the one-time assassin’s lap, pulling her pie closer.  “I know you’re just trying to be polite, and let me have the best pie all to myself, but I’m willing to share with you, Fina dear.”  Her tone is almost as distressingly off as the pie, sweet and cloying.

“Leave them to it,” Zetherain says, glancing away as Nerai cuts into her pie.  Something flickers, like static in the dark, and Kyprian averts his eyes as well.  Lilon scoots to the edge of his chair, as far as he can get without leaving the table.

“Here’s to us,” Sage says, blithely ignoring the pie situation as he reaches for the cider in the middle of the table, pouring everyone a glass.  He gets right up in Zetherain’s space as he leans back, earning a dismissive look; under the table, he tangles his feet with Kyprian’s.

It’s hardly a toast.  Sage is drinking before anyone has a chance to respond, but Zetherain still raises his glass beside the wolf, with a roll of his eyes and the shadow of a smile.  Kyprian clinks his glass against Lilon’s, and the bunny solemnly repeats Sage’s words.

The moment is broken by a shriek as Finael shoves Nerai off her lap, diving to the floor after her with a growl.  Sure enough, the witch’s pie is… blooming, or something - bubbles of chocolate are oozing from the cut slice, growing and spreading with, as usual, far too much agency for comfort.  

“Great party,” Sage says, leaning back with a grin.  Lilon tumbles out of his own chair, popping up on the other side of Kyprian with a distressed moan.  Zetherain takes care of the pie, raising one hand, limed with dark energy, over it, and slowing pushing down as though through heavy snow.  By the time he’s close enough to touch, the pie is just a sullen pile of glop.  It surrenders one final bubble, bursting over Zetherain’s hand; he sighs, but licks his fingers clean anyway.

“The chocolate is good,” Zetherain says, eyeing the women on the floor.  Nerai puts her head up, smirking.  “Leave off the special effects next time.”

“Where’s the fun in that,” Nerai grins.

“I don’t know, maybe we could have a civil meal for once,” Finael mutters, settling back into her chair.

“Again, where’s the fun,” Sage says.  Zetherain elbows him.

Kyprian pats Lilon’s ears, and the bunny sighs, casting a wary glare over Nerai and Finael before returning to his seat.  “I would be even more nervous if nothing like that happened,” Kyprian says.

“And that’s why I like you,” Nerai says, passing him a slice of the defeated pie.  “See, Zethie?  Your little brother goes with the flow.  Stay away too long, and you’ll forget all the important stuff.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” His voice is haughty, but there’s a flicker of apology in Zetherain’s eyes as he looks at Kyprian.

Kyprian supposes that’s what’s important.  Zetherain is here, everyone is fighting in their comfortable ways, and Nerai’s chocolate pie really does taste good, now that it’s not moving.  It’s enough; it’s perfect.  Kyprian can only hope that they get more nights like this.

[crimsonblackrose]

When my school was trying to decide what we were going to do for our teachers trip we were given a list to vote on. Most of the staff picked Marie Antoinette, but the other items included a nearby cave, a fancy dinner or going to the silver grass festival at the Sky Park.

I picked Marie Antoinette because despite my Korean not being that good I’m a huge fan of musicals. Plus I figured I might be able to find the plot and the story online so it wouldn’t be too difficult to follow along. You know how that went if you read my post.

The only other one that seemed to really draw me in was the silver grass festival in Seoul. It was my second choice, but I wasn’t concerned because I figured I could still go on my own. So I did, and oh boy do I wish I’d done some research before hand, because yikes.

Haneul Park also known as the Sky Park is inside another park called World Cup park 월드컵공원. World Cup Park was created in 2002 near the world cup stadium and is a showcase for how we can help bring back the environment from utter human destruction. Before 2002 the grounds that World Cup park inhabits was a landfill that held over 92 million tons of garbage. Now this old landfill is home to 5 small parks that make up World Cup Park.

  The one that everyone flocks in autumn is Haneul Park. Haneul Park is a grassland with the highest elevation of the five parks. And this is a point you need to keep in mind if you ever visit. It has 22 look out points which give you a great view of Seoul (if the air is clean).

But here’s the thing, being the tallest point in the park means you have to get up there somehow. The bus I took dropped me off outside of World Cup park and I had to guess which way to go. I ended up being lucky and mostly just followed everyone else because the bus had been insanely crowded and I assumed everyone had the same idea of going to the autumn grass festival. I was right. The problem however was with the bus we took, it dropped us off in a spot where the easiest way up was to climb (apparently 291 steps) up a zigzagging staircase to the top. Thankfully each flight of stairs ended with a platform where you could pause and rest, but every time I thought I was done more of the staircase would appear. I was really happy that despite the cool autumn weather I had a fan and water. I wasn’t the only one who found the never ending stair case (almost as bad as staircase island outside of Ulleung-do) annoying, almost everyone else was groaning whenever they turned the corner on the flight of stairs as well.

  At the top of the stairs is a resting space, one of those 22 lookouts over the city of Seoul. There’s several spots to sit down and even a bathroom. But if you continue forward you’re in the first bunch of silver grass. The silver grass grows quite tall and gives off that feeling of a nice rural autumn. It reminded me a bit of home mixed with The Wizard of Oz. However do note that the grass is home to all sorts of wild creatures and there are several signs warning of snakes, so don’t go venturing off the path and be careful.

The next big draw to the area was the shorter grass. This grass is called muhly grass and depending on where you are in the park it’s either a beautiful pinkish or a beautiful purple. The muhly grass however is very popular for photos. So the area gets very crowded. And many many people ignore the signs which say not to cross over the ropes. I saw too many people climbing over the ropes to get pictures, who then crushing the grass. You could see where the grass was flattened because people were ignoring the signs and it was, disheartening. There’s a couple spots around that they’ve added for you to try and get a nice picture without climbing over the ropes.

Another note is that depending on how you try to take your pictures will change the vibrancy of the color of the grass. I found if I took a picture of just the grass it tended to be lighter in color but when I went to take a selfie it was darker. Not sure why. It’s a really cool grass, alien like that I’ve never seen before and despite all the people and the workout to get there it was worth it. It’s the thinnest most silky looking grass I’ve ever seen, almost like cotton candy or even spiderwebs thin.

On my way out of the park, after passing through even more silver grass I spotted people in a long line waiting. I wondered why and then realized they were waiting for the shuttle to take them back down the mini mountain to catch the bus. The line seemed too long with no shuttle in sight so I decided to hike down the hill myself. I regretted this. Soon I was passed by about 12 shuttles on my way to the bus and it took me about an hour or so to get there because I was leaving via a different bus on the other end of the park. It was frustrating. I’m not sure how often the shuttle comes or exactly where it drops you off but it seems much faster and more convenient then hiking your way out of the park. If you can find one to take you up, which is probably what my school teacher’s field trip would’ve done, it’s a lot more convenient. Unless you also want to get a work out in.

I also highly suggest going in the morning. I went in the afternoon and it was very crowded. Not just in the park but also on the bus to and from the park.

The silver grass festival is generally in October, and during the seven day festival the park is open later, until about 10pm. But the grass continues after the festival. Outside of festival hours the park is open from 9am until 6pm.

    Haneul Park Sky Park When my school was trying to decide what we were going to do for our teachers trip we were given a list to vote on.

[vivianbates]

Wawona Meadow Loop Trail in Yosemite National Park

Wawona Meadow Loop Trail weaves through the forest surrounding a large meadow at the south end of Yosemite National Park, offering a relaxing hike that receives less attention than those in Yosemite Valley. Starting from trailheads on two sides of Wawona Hotel (Big Trees Lodge), Meadow Loop Trail follows an old road for 3.3 miles and can be connected by paths across the hotel ground for a 3.9-mile loop with 250 gentle feet of elevation change.

Signs along Wawona Meadow Loop Trail deliver information about Wawona Basin’s ecosystems and history. The mostly-shaded trail is particular enjoyable in early summer months when the verdant meadow pops with blooming wildflowers. While most trails in Yosemite National Park prohibit dogs, bikes, and horses, Wawona Meadow Loop Trail welcomes all three!

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Counterclockwise seems to be the most popular direction on Wawona Meadow Loop Trail, but there’s no disadvantage to hiking in the other direction. Those staying at Wawona Hotel (Big Trees Lodge), can pick up the loop right from the hotel. For everyone else, a parking area along Wawona Road (Highway 41) is an equally convenient starting point.

As follows are directions that begin from the roadside trailhead east of the hotel, cross through the least interesting part of the loop (the hotel grounds) right off the bat and launch into the trail from the other trailhead just south of the hotel. (Hotel guests can just skip the first couple paragraph of the directions below to start from the hotel.)

Wawona Meadow

The basic directions for Wawona Meadow Loop are:

Instead of following the wide trail beyond the gate to the left of the kiosk, bear right (west) on a narrower trail (0 miles)

Take the crosswalk over Wawona Road (0.08 miles)

Bear right on a paved hotel road (0.2 miles)

Walk in front of the golf shop for the Wawona Hotel (0.4 miles)

Take a crosswalk back across Wawona Road (0.48 miles)

Turn right on a path along the golf course (0.5 miles)

Turn left onto Chowchilla Mountain Road, which is perpendicular to Wawona Road (0.55 miles)

Turn left onto Meadow Loop Trail (0.6 miles)

Cross a creek at the south end of the meadow (2.1 miles)

Stay to the left past a dirt road near another creek crossing (2.35 miles)

Cross a third creek, which may be the biggest (2.5 miles)

Go through a gate to return to the trailhead parking area (3.9 miles)

Connecting Wawona Meadow Loop Trail

From a partially paved parking area just off the south side of Wawona Road (4.3 miles from the park’s south entrance), find a trail kiosk labeled “Meadow Loop” in front of a gate at the start of Meadow Loop Trail. While you could start off in this direction along the edge of the meadow, why not close out the loop with this scenic stretch instead? To get the hotel-crossing park of the loop out of the way first, take the less obvious trail to the right of the kiosk. Pick up a dirt trail heading west along a split-rail fence that protects the meadow. Visitors are asked to stay out of the meadow and not trample the wildflower-bearing grasses.

After less than a tenth of a mile, the trail leads to a crosswalk over Wawona Road. Safely make your way to the north side of the busy road and continue up a dirt trail. In another tenth of a mile, the trail joins a paved road into the hotel grounds. Bear right and continue heading northwest. As you walk up this road, another trail will part to the left, you can take this shortcut to trim a bit of distance off the hike. Otherwise, continue along the road and go through a curve to the left past some hotel cabins. Come to a larger building that houses Wawona Hotel’s golf shop and walk along the far side of this building. When you see a path dropping to the left to a crosswalk back over Wawona Road, take it.

Leave the Wawona Hotel Golf Shop and take the crosswalk back to the south side of Wawona Road. Pass through a bit of brush and come to the edge of the 9-hole golf course on Wawona Meadow. Don’t worry; most of the hike will be far away from the golf course. Bear right on a path along the golf course that quickly reaches Chowchilla Mountain Road, a paved road that intersects Wawona Road.

The developed end of Wawona Meadow

Turn left to take Chowchilla Mountain Road for 0.05 miles to the start of Meadow Loop Trail. You are walking on one of the oldest roads in Yosemite National Park, which began as a horse trail and developed into a stage road that connected Wawona with the mining town of Mariposa. The road was said to include bone-jarring drops and climbs on the way to verdant Wawona Basin. A panel along the road explains:

The Chowchilla Mountain Road began in 1856 as a simple toll trail providing access from Mariposa to Yosemite Valley. In 1870, Galen Clark and others expanded this trail to a stage road, enabling wheeled vehicles to reach Clark’s Station (Wawona). This road continues to receive limited use today.

As you walk south on Chowchilla Mountain Road, look back for a grand perspective of Wawona Hotel. In the distance, the tumbling waters of Chilnualna Falls can also be seen.

Wawona Hotel backed by Chilnualna Falls

Hiking Wawona Meadow Loop Trail

After putting in a 0.6-mile preamble, come to the kiosk and gate at the start of Meadow Loop Trail. Turn left to begin on the trail. Meadow Loop Trail is build on an old paved road, but much of the pavement is eroded and covered in dirt and tree debris. The kiosk has a trail map and passages that include this description of the trail:

Today’s trail follows the historic Meadow Loop Road, originally built in 1891. In addition to serving as a sightseeing road for visitors, it allowed for easy access to the orchard, pasture, and farmland that once comprised a large section of this meadow to the south. Enjoy your travels down Wawona’s memory lane.

Follow the wide trail through a forest of tall ponderosa pines, accompanied by incense cedars and white firs. To your left, you’ll find views through the trees at the edge of the meadow looking across the golf course toward the Victorian hotel.

Wawona Meadow Loop Trail

After 1/3 of a mile, come to the first of five informative panels along the trail. This one describes the plants that grow in Wawona Meadow, highlighting how they are adapted to conditions in the Sierra Nevada where wetlands are flooded in the spring by snowmelt but dry out later in the year.

Continue heading southeast along the trail through the forest bordering Wawona Meadow. Enjoy periodic peeks across the meadow’s verdant grasses toward Wawona Dome, a mass of granite rising to the north.

Wawona Dome above Wawona Meadow

Old sections of split-rail fence border the meadow, and you’ll also pass an old cattle chute. These are hints at the “long and varied history” of Wawona Meadow, as outlined by the next panel along the loop:

In 1851, the Mariposa Battalion passed by here on their way into Yosemite Valley. Wawona, and the historic Wawona Hotel, quickly became a stopping place for visitors on their way to and from Yosemite Valley to the Mariposa Grove of Giant Sequoias. From the mid-1850s until the early 1930s, the purveyors of the Wawona Hotel used Wawona Meadow as a place to grow fruits and vegetables and graze horses, mules, cows, and pigs. For a short time there was a landing strip in this meadow to allow for air service into Wawona! In 1918, the Wawona Golf Course was constructed in the north end of the meadow. As recently as the 1970s, this meadow was used as a pasture for horses from the Wawona Stables.

The Wawona Area did not become part of Yosemite National Park until 1932, so the meadow isn’t as nature as other areas of the park, but still has plenty of beauty. Enjoy a nice view from the meadow’s edge by the second nature trail panel, before dipping back into the forest. The next third of a mile offers lovely looks across the meadow through thin rows of trees. Black oaks and dogwoods, join the conifers to enhance the forest.

Reach a third information panel describing restoration efforts undertaken by the National Park Service starting in 2010. Meadows in this region typically flood with snowmelt in the spring and slowly distribute that water into rivers. Ditches dug in Wawona Meadow in 1936 altered that behavior, diverting water to orchards and other agricultural and livestock uses for the area’s inhabitants. Changing the water patterns changed what plants prospered in the meadow, allowing non-native plants to take root. The ditches deepened and the erosion increased – until the park service took action and filled the ditches and replanted native flora.

Wawona Meadow Loop Trail rounds the south end of the meadow, presenting views east across the meadow toward Mount Savage. At 1.5 miles from the trailhead on Chowchilla Mountain Road (and after 2.1 miles of hiking), cross the first of three creeks that drain into the meadow. Hike a quarter mile across the south end of the meadow to a junction by a second creek crossing. Stay to the left on Meadow Loop Trail past a wide dirt road parting to the right. Just ahead, the trail passes the third creek crossing, which appears to be the most active and can require some log and rock hopping during wet months.

Having rounded the southeast end of the meadow, the trail now ventures northwest along the other side of the basin. Rise into a forest that offers broader views over the meadow. Pass a panel that describes the animals that live in and around Wawona Meadow. The panel explains why the area surrounding the trail is a hot spot for animal viewing:

The transitional zone between two different ecosystems – like here between the forest and the Wawona Meadow is called an ecotone. Ecotones like this can be great places to view wildlife because animals common to overlapping environments are often brought together here.

Animals that live around Wawona Meadow include black bears, deer, coyotes, weasels, martens, foxes, bobcats, mice, chipmunks, and dozens of species of birds. As you continue into the final 1.5 miles of the hike, you may pick up some road noise from Wawona Road. The trail descends off a conifer-covered hill to return to the side of the meadow, where it slips past black oaks and willows. Look out over Wawona Meadow, which hosts verdant sledges and corn lilies in spring and summer months. Early summer brings blooming wildflowers to the area as well, like lupines, larkspur, and monkeyflower.

Wawona Meadow

Come to the last info panel along the loop, which is titled, “A Good Place to Stop.” Don’t put your feet up yet, since the trail continues for another 0.55 miles. The panel explains that Native Americans lived in the Wawona Area for at least 5,000 years, and in the region at large for over 10,000 years:

American Indians were living along the South Fork of the Merced River, a few miles downstream from Wawona when pioneers arrived in 1851. Originally called Pallahchun (an American Indian word for “a good place to stop”), Wawona was later know as Clark’s Station, named for Galen Clark, pioneer and founder of the Wawona Hotel, who was appointing the first “Guardian” of the Yosemite Grant by the state of California.

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Continue walking along the gently rolling trail, enjoying some of the best views across Wawona Meadow as you close out the hike. Cross through the gate to return to the kiosk by the parking area where the loop began.

Wawona Meadow Loop comes to a total of 3.9 miles with 250 feet of elevation change. Dogs, bikes, and horses are all allowed on Wawona Meadow Loop Trail. A fee is changed to enter Yosemite National Park, but no permit is required to hike around Wawona Meadow, so get out and enjoy!

To get to the trailhead: From Yosemite Valley, take Wawona Road (Highway 41) south for 28.5 miles. About 0.4 miles past the Wawona Hotel, pull into the trailhead parking area on the right for Wawona Meadow Loop Trail. Coming from the south, cross through the entrance station by Mariposa Grove and drive 4.3 miles to the trailhead, which is on the left (before Wawona Hotel).

Trailhead address: Wawona Road (Highway 41), Yosemite National Park, CA 95389 Trailhead coordinates: 37.53441, -119.6499 (37° 32′ 03.9″N 119° 38′ 59.6″W)

from hikespeak.com https://www.hikespeak.com/trails/wawona-meadow-loop-trail-yosemite-hike/

[palest-quadrant]

Of Skaia and Sunlight Chapter 2: Serpents in the Catacombs

The best way to summarize the past week, John decided, was muddy. Though he attempted to blow away the most fragrant of the material on the path, it was nearly impossible to get rid of all of it. He knew that he needed supplies, he hadn’t seen a town in days, but perhaps that was a good thing. The last town he had visited was controlled by House Life, and the glares that he got there were enough to melt iron. John had left there as quickly as he came, and only now was he regretting it. His stomach growled, murmuring in protest. He broke off half of the remaining bread, which was stale, but still delicious, the spices that made House Life so famous in the culinary world filling his mouth.    And so John trekked onwards, his boots clicking on the cobbles as he beheld the storm clouds gathering above. It didn’t take an expert to know this storm would be no small matter. The wisps of clouds had coalesced into a roiling mass that bore down on the plains with silent menace. John knew he couldn’t outrun it, who knew how much farther the nearest city was? He tore his eyes from the darkened sky and scanned the grassy fields before him. Grass, as far as the eye could see. He squinted. Vaguely, he could pick out a small grey lump in the distance, hopefully something he could brace his tent against in the wind.    Rain began to fall, sparse droplets that quickly became a downpour. As he approached the mystery object, John realized that it was not, in fact, a rock. It was something much better. A cave! It appeared deep enough to shield from the sleet that was beating down on him as he thought and John welcomed any chance to save wear and tear on his tent.    John stepped into the cave, shaking off as much of the water as he could. He slumped to the ground, exhausted from the run. He lay down his bags and wrung out his hood, creating a puddle on the floor. His breathing slowed from frantic panting to even shudders. He relaxed into the curved wall of the cave and soon fell asleep.    When he woke up, the rain was still pounding. With no end in sight, John frowned. A true nomad at heart, he was restless to keep on moving. Who knows what was happening back in Breath. Perhaps Life had already wiped them out, maybe they were all lying on the floor dead from a particularly nasty poison? He fidgeted nervously with the ring on his finger, attempting to clamp down on the worries that were churning in his stomach. It was burnished silver, simple at a first glance, but forged with intricate patterns that swirled and danced in the light. The silver cradled a mottled blue crystal, heavier than it appeared. John squinted at it, rubbing his eyes. No, it was still there. He rubbed at the stone, trying to wipe away the gray smudge that he saw there. John shrugged internally, perhaps it had always been there? He stood up and stretched, picking up his bags which scraped against the ground. Echoes resounded down the length of the cave. He wondered how deep it stretched. John listened to his steps, venturing deeper into the cave. While he walked, he noticed something strange. The cave glowed softly blue, never seeming to get any darker as he moved. He contemplated this as he walked, fingering the cold silver ring, skimming over the polished gem in the center. Soon, he was farther in the cave than he had ever intended to be. The entrance was barely visible from that point. He continued walking even as he squinted and twisted his neck in order to make out the point of light that hinted at the exit.    And then his foot slipped off the cliff.    John’s heart skipped up to his throat as he struggled for air. He pressed his eyelids together, and tried to hold his glasses onto his face. The wind ripped at his face and arms, tearing at his skin and drying the water from his clothes. The wind! John scrunched his face in and concentrated. What had his dad said? Concentrate on the Breeze? He laughed internally. There was certainly enough of that around here! A whispering whistled through the air, carrying words in a language that was on the tip of his tongue. He wasn’t quite sure why he did it, but he reached his arm out, the other still pressed to his face. As he waved his arm around in a pattern that was familiar and yet not, he felt the tattoos on his wrists heat up and the chain around his neck begin to vibrate. He could feel the currents in the air, the tiny motes of dust floating through. John didn’t have much time to revel in this discovery, though, he placed both hands pointing downwards and pushed. It was working! He was slowing down, into a glide as opposed to a freefall.    John hit the water below with a gentle splash, negating the effect of his freefall on the dampness of his clothing. Clambering out, he shook himself like a dog, every droplet sending echoes as loud as thunder down the cavernous tunnel. He took a survey of his surroundings after making a check to assure himself that he hadn’t lost anything on the way down.    It was dark, as to be expected for underground. John wondered how far he had fallen. He listened carefully, but failed to catch even an inkling of the sound of rain that was pouring so violently above. The cave was glowing with that same subtle luminescence, though part of it was the residual glow from his tattoos. The entirety of the inside was smooth, and perfectly circular. It emanated an unnerving air, as if the entire tunnel had been misplaced.    John began to walk down it, quickly coming to one fork, and then another. It seemed to be a maze, and a complex one at that. He took forks at random, though sometimes he would start down a tunnel and then quickly turn around, as a convenient gust of foul smelling air wafted over him. They were really convenient. His eyes were drooping whilst he made another turn. For all he knew he could be going in circles again. Another turn, just the same as-    What is that? On the floor, there was a smear of what appeared to be chocolate. John leaned closer, and recoiled in horror. It was blood, supposedly from a low blood troll. He looked forwards and beheld a trail of the faux chocolate leading down the left fork. Whomever it was had to be nearly dead by now. John began walking down the left fork, gingerly stepping over the blood at first, but then picking up the pace as he continued, pounding the smooth floor with the soles of his shoes. Down the tunnel he could hear faint moans, and a vestige of that strange language floating through the air. He skidded around a corner, and beheld a strange scene.    There were two trolls there, the faint blue light of the tunnels staining their skin a pale flint. One, his hair dyed red at the tips and styled into three neat peaks, appeared to be yelling at the other, who lay prone on the ground. The one on the ground was whimpering, shrinking away from the other who held a large blunt lance. John wondered why the troll didn’t get up and fight, when he saw his legs. They were bent at unnatural angles, ochre blood seeping through his heavy charcoal pants.    “You know, doll, I don’t like to do this, but you took my chance away man, and I gotta make sure it doesn’t happen again. You understand, right?” John took a cautious step back. An echo resounded through the hall, causing the dyed hair troll to start. “Hey! What the hell you doin here?” The troll with dyed hair had turned to the corner that John had just retreated behind, brandishing his lance, which glistened with dark moisture, towards him. “Show yourself.” The other troll moaned again, and made a feeble attempt to crawl away, the yellow part of one of his gigantic horns scraping against the dirt. The troll standing up flickered his attention back to the bleeding, and hit him once more, over the head. He crumpled, unconscious. “I said show yourself!” John stepped slowly out from the corner, hands up.    “That’s more like it.” The dyed hair troll motioned with his lance. When that failed to result in a reaction he sighed and rolled his eyes.    “Your weapons, princess. That knife in your sleeve, and that bag. Kick them here.”    John removed his knife, feeling a chill where the strap had been. He took off his remaining bag, still soaked with water and kicked them both over to the troll.    “Is your friend ok?” John asked, fully knowing the answer.    “He will be, with time. He’ll be regretting it now though, last time he’ll try to get in between me an’ my destiny.” The troll’s face now had a dreamy, far off look. “The Summoner is my destiny, always and forever…” He trailed off, then shook his head, throwing off the dreamy look and giving John a lopsided grin.    “Name’s Rufioh doll, and the poor schmuck in the dirt?” Rufioh kicked the unconscious troll. “That’s Tavros, my personal assistant.”    John was quiet. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, but he knew he had to help him. “Why did you hurt him?” He winced. Great start, ask him about why he beat up someone. Why don’t you just punch yourself while you’re at it? John berated himself silently.    “Didn’t ya hear me the first time? My destiny!” Rufioh took a deep breath, reveling in it. “I am the heir to the Summoner, following in his footsteps means I must wake the Denizens and bring them to the surface. The whole world will hear their beautiful tongue and be enlightened! I wil be the greatest troll anyone has ever known! It is fate, is it not?”    His eyes had taken on a crazed gleam, not unlike a religious fanatic. John took a step back.    “The hell do you think you’re going shitstick? I’m not about to let you take any of the glory for this momentous discovery.” Rufioh took a menacing step forward, then another. John knew he could have run, and probably outpaced the insane troll, especially because he was no longer burdened by his pack, but he couldn’t just leave that broken troll there. He would surely die and John was pretty sure that Rufioh hadn’t spent any time on medical training in his past years.    As these thoughts were racing through his head, Rufioh had gotten even closer, almost within striking range with his lance. All at once, he lunged.    John reached out his hand instinctively, though he knew it was stupid. There was no way his hand could repel four feet of solid wood and iron. He braced for the hit, waiting one breath, then two. Nothing came. After his fifth exhale, he opened his eyes, hesitant. There was Rufioh, still angry, nearly frothing at the mouth, but not advancing. There appeared to be a dome of solid wind surrounding him, he couldn’t be touched within. Rufioh snapped his canines at John and prodded with the dripping lance, but was unable to approach.    John advanced a step. The shield followed in suit. Rufioh continued banging on the dome, now scratching at it with a frenzy nearly as potent as that of a rabid beast. John took a deep breath, and blew it out quickly, feeling the Breeze fill his lungs rushing out as quickly as it came. A huge gust of biting wind flew forth, completely ignoring the shield and crashing into Rufioh. He slammed into the other side of the cavern with a small puff as the air was knocked out of his lungs. He crumpled to the ground, silent. The wind swirled, rearing for another attack, this time, aimed at who it believed was Rufioh’s accomplice. John hurriedly waved his hand to dismiss it. John slung his bag over his shoulder and strapped the knife back to his arm, leaving his solid wind dome up, in case Rufioh’s unconsciousness was a bluff.    John dropped the shield, and ran over to Tavros, his knees nearly buckling as he felt the weight of the magic he had done press down on him. Still, he made it to him, and surveyed the extent of his injuries. There were lacerations all along his back and stomach, it was a miracle that nothing vital had been hit. One particularly deep cut fell horizontally across his spine. It appeared to have severed the nerves there, if any of the injuries to his legs had happened after this, he wouldn’t have felt it anyways. He took a roll of gauze out of his backpack, and bound the lacerations as best he could. It would have to do for now. John tried to pick him up, and succeeded. He was surprisingly light, built like a bird, light, fast, and no more than a hundred pounds. John suspected that malnourishment had something to do with the weigh. He looked over at Rufioh, who appeared to be well fed, as evidenced by the powerful muscles and full frame    John looked back at him as he started down the tunnel, and bit his lip. He knew that it wasn’t right to leave someone all alone in the tunnels, especially someone that was unconscious, but with what he had done to Tavros? He wasn’t sure he could stomach another second with the beast.    And so he started down the tunnel that the two trolls had arrived from. After about a half an hour, his arms began to ache, though he pressed on. Another hour passed. Sleep seemed a distant dream though John had just slept less than three hours ago. A noise behind one of the corners ahead. John lifted his head but did nothing. He was just… too… tired…    A troll rounded the bend. He caught sight of John and Tavros, and rushed over to them.    “Where’s Rufioh?” The troll’s voice was extremely quiet, with a slight huff to it. “Did he send you? What happened to him?”    John opened his mouth to speak, but the troll held up his hand. “Is that his assistant? Did he send you to me for mending? He was always so considerate he must have. Here, follow me.” The troll galloped towards a wall, and stepped through. Too tired to question anything anymore, John followed without complaint, and found himself in a workshop.    There were tools and scraps of metal all over the place. There were a few projects of half finished circuit boards and gas lit lights, but nothing completed. The crest of House Void hung above two work desks, one fastidiously clean, and the other covered with broken gears and wires. Two beds lined the back wall, and John stumbled to one, laying down Tavros, still bleeding slightly. “I can heal him for now, please take this time to rest.” The troll gestured to the other bed, labeled in fancy script above the headboard as ‘Horuss’s bed.’ From the size, John guessed that it belonged to the kind troll that had saved them. John lay down and quickly fell into a deep slumber. When he awoke, John saw Tavros sitting up in bed. He was staring at John, his bronze eyes scanning him with a careful precision. The tattoos on his head were more visible now, and someone had propped his back up with extra pillows and… was that a robot head? They made eye contact, and Tavros looked away quickly. “W..who,” he made a stuttering start, his voice high and shaky. “Who are you?” John opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Horuss swishing through the curtained door, soup in hand. He moved Tavros’s legs to the side, and began to spoon the broth to him, barely taking notice of John. John tried to take a closer look at Tavros’s legs, which had been set in huge splints. Somehow, John found it difficult to focus on them, it was as if a cloud of darkness had descended on them. Every time John moved his eyes to them, they slid away, and he found himself looking at the bedpost next to them.    “How strange.” John murmured to himself.    Horuss looked up, only now seeming to notice John’s presence. John quickly stood up, brushing down the covers of the bed under Horuss’s goggled glare. “What’s strange?”    “N-nothing,” John stammered, sounding more like Tavros than he ever had in his life. The voice crack didn’t help either. His eyes flickered to the shadows and then back to Horuss.    “Ah, that.” Horuss sat down on the bed John was just occupying, thrusting the bowl of broth into Tavros’s shaky hands. “See, that’s a certain ability of House Void. I could get into the spatial mechanics of it, but suffice to say I ‘hid’ your friend’s injuries from the natural course of things.”    “Friend? Sir, we just met last morning, I’m not quite sure that qualifies as-”    “Unfortunately it’s only a temporary fix. He will be able to walk, until the effect fades. I suggest you head to House Space, there’s rumors of a clan of Rainbow Drinkers that might be able to help more permanently.”    “House Space? That has to be half a world away! The effect can’t possibly last that long!” John was not looking forward to carrying the troll, no matter how light, hundreds of miles to some insane House.    “For lack of a better option, I have decided to allow you to use my Benders. Each is keyed to just outside of each Houses’ main cities. Just my luck that I had just finished repairing this one. They tend to break after a single use, but for Rufioh’s assistant? I’m sure he would understand.” Horuss had risen, and was rifling through the mess on his desk for the item. He held it up triumphantly and headed back to John.    “How sure are you that these work?” John took the Bender in his hand. It was a cold ring with a spirograph design inlaid inside. It seemed to suck the light out of the air. Holding it felt wrong.    “There is a slight chance that I might not have programmed it properly, and you ending up inside a wall, but that’s a minor detail in the face of such an exciting advance! Now, both of you touch it, and I’ll activate it.” He seemed almost giddy with excitement, John doubted one of these had ever been used before.    He looked over at Tavros, whose face was set in determination. John held the ring out to him, and they hooked their pointers over the ends. “Ready then.”    “Three…” Tavros looked nervous now, he was almost about to pull away from the Bender.    “Two…” John grabbed his arm, holding tight. This might be his only chance.    “One…” They made eye contact, and Tavros loosened under his gaze. He placed his hand back on the ring, which was beginning to pulse.    “Zero.” A flash of green, and a vestige of clouds, and they were gone.  

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Thanks for reading the second chapter! This can be found on ao3 here  

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9783611/chapters/21974723