#and they like to dunk their food and paws in water because it gives them more information about what they're eating

[canisalbus]

Actually (🤓) raccoons don't wash their food, they do that for the taste and also they have very sensitive paws ( i'm autistic )

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[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Anklets and Necklaces

Inspired by this tweet.

@5-secondsofcolor I’m not sorry.

Female Reader insert. NSFW Content (18+). My smut writing is hella rusty. So I do apologize, whoops.

_______________

Calum plays at the anklet, spinning it around and around her joint as her legs are crossed and resting in his lap. The gold jewellry is hardly ever taken off since he gave it to her. In return, she gifted him a chain with a tiny pendant with her initial etched into the back of it. The front of it is an arrowhead. He wears it so often now, that when it’s off, he feels a little incomplete. It’s an easy gesture to carry her everywhere with him.

“Okay we gotta decide what to eat for lunch like now or I’m going to get hangry,” she states.

Calum glances up from his phone, to see her still scrolling on hers. “Oh no. Not hangry,” he teases. But he knows she means it. Her warnings have about a thirty minute window, just enough for a delivery if they get something simple. Or if they want something more complicated, they need to find a snack now while the main course is cooking. “What do you want? Thai? Mexican?”

“Would you hate me if I said I really just wanted nuggets from McDonalds?”

The pout on her lips makes him laugh, “No, I could never. Usual then?”

“Yes, please.”

Stretching across the length of her, Calum pushes his lips together, trying to ask for a kiss. She laughs in return and squeezes his cheeks. “Be lucky you’re cute,” she states before lifting up slightly to meet his lips. “And squishy.”

“Ain’t nothing on me squishy,” he huffs, straightening back up to put her order into the app.

She sets her phone down on her stomach, gazing up over the sharp line of his jaw that his plump cheeks sit atop. And while it’d be easy to return with a poke and a verbal jab about his cheeks, she just watches him. His fingers deftly work over the screen. The white tank sits as a stark contrast to the depth and glow of his skin. “I think all the right things on you are squishy.”

“Yeah, what are those?”

“Your cheeks. And as much as you and your trainer kick your ass, I know happy weight when I see it.”

Calum grins, a chuckle shaking through him as he sets his phone down on the arm of the couch--the order completed on his end. He pinches at her thighs. “Take that back.”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think I will. I like it--just like I like my cookies. Hard on the edges gooey in the middle.”

Standing for just a moment to let her legs fall onto the couch, Calum kneels onto the cushion, hovering above her. Her eyes glitter just a little as she talks and the soft easy smile on her face lets him know that it’s all out of love--what’s she’s saying. The pads of his fingers run along the side of her thigh. “Be lucky I love you.”

“I am already lucky, so say what you gotta say. Roast me, my love. It’s not like we don’t do that anyways.”

And truth be told, Calum had no response. Not when he looks at her, because God all he sees is the person that’s been with him on his bad mental days. She’s been there when Calum was sure there was no lower low or higher high. And what do you say to that person that’s been there, seen all of you that there is to see? With a gentle and chaste kiss, Calum settles for silence.

“Cat got your tongue now, huh?”

This--this Calum can respond too. It’s all too easy. “I know what else my tongue can have.”

“I know something your tongue can have too.”

“Really now?” Calum asks, dragging his fingers over the top of her thigh and tracing the line of her lounge shorts. “Food will be here in fifteen minutes though. So that’s up to you.”

“Not nearly enough time to savor it. Besides,” she starts and takes a pause. Her lips pull into a side smile and Calum knows what that means. One brow quirks in anticipation and Calum watches her. The silence settles for a little too long.

“Besides what?” he prompts again.

“Besides, I need the mail to be delivered first.”

“What did you buy?”

“You’ll see later. I promise. It’s really not even supposed to be used for lingerie. But I’ve wanted these for a long time and I specifically have a set I’m trying to complete.”

There’s the black mesh set that she’s slowly been building out. The main piece came in weeks ago, at this point it might even be months ago that that came in. He was privy to it then and gave it the christening that it deserved. But there wasn’t any other lingerie set that needed expansion. Not at least to his recalling. “Which one is it?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Oh please,” he whines, dropping his head into her neck. His lips softly and slowly seal kisses into her warm skin.

“No, Calum. I’ve been waiting on this package for weeks. It got held up in customs and I-” she sighs at his lips sucking at her skin. Not hard enough to cause a bruise, but just enough to make her spine tingle. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Calum pushes up, with a huff, sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch. “This is killing me, you know?”

“Well, you ain’t dead yet. So I think you can tough it out for a little bit longer.”

“Begrudgingly--I want you to know that.”

She sits up, swinging her feet to the floor. “Your sacrifice will be duly noted. The mail will be here before you know it.” The couch releases her weight and Calum watches her pad into the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” she calls.

“I’m good,” he returns, knowing that he will be counting down the seconds until the mail comes. She returns with a glass of water, sitting back down on the couch, but bringing her feet up underneath her as she motions to the TV. “You watching that?”

Calum answers with a shrug. He wasn’t anymore. He originally turned it on mostly for the weather and some news. He found himself bored and flipping through channels before settling on the sports channel while he took care of Duke in the morning. Noise to fill the space since his brain needed the distraction. He hadn’t slept all that great the last few nights, decent sleep. The closer and closer the band got to putting out music the more his nerves kicked in--sometimes they were sneaky. The nerves come up faster than Calum had anticipated. And right now, they won the first round. But Calum was working hard to combat them so he could get about his daily life.

“Go crazy,” he finally verbally responds. And she picks up the remote, changing channels too fast for Calum to even understand how you could process what was on before decking it was a no. She eventually settles for HGTV--not quite caring what show was on. 

The first knock that comes to the door is the food that Calum ordered for the two of them. He answers it, popping up in the hopes it’s the mail. When it’s not, he sighs just a little but places the bag down onto the coffee table. “Your nugs, my queen,” he teases.

“Thank you, my good sir,” she returns with a grin, opening before divvying out what is for who. “You wouldn’t have happened to shot up like a bat outta hell because you wanted that to be the mail?”

Calum feels the heat in his cheeks, but bumps her shoulder gently. “No, why would I ever want that?”

“Oh I don’t know,” she scoffs in return, dunking a nugget into the sweet and sour sauce. They share a soft bout of laughter before turning their gaze back to the TV. Duke’s paws click as he ventures into the kitchen for a drink of water from his bowl. The lapping and splash of his tongue echoing just slightly as the screen goes dark between the show and the commercial break.

Calum lifts his gaze, taking in the soft angle of her jaw. She curls up around the carton of fries, eyes glued to the screen. Does she even have the slightest clue what she does to him? It’s not even the involved things like dressing up for him, or comforting him. It’s just her, when she’s munching on fries. Or when she sleepily walks behind Duke in the mornings. It’s when she hums as she cooks. It’s the dancing she does when she’s cleaning. It’s the pouts when she messes up on something and her brow furrows in as the determination settles onto her face.

It’s when she fucked up a birthday cake for him once--not greasing the sides of the pan enough and then adding a tad too much milk--called him crying about it and then in a minute flat resolved to make him brownies instead. Because she said she’d be damned if she didn’t make him something sweet to nibble on or pass along to the guys. And Calum’s not even that much of a sweets guy, which she knew, so she only settled on giving him half the batch she made. She, of course, saved the other half for her and her friends.

And it’s just the moments that she’s not even trying that makes Calum melt. Like when she paints her nails, she offers to do his first. Or when she lays down next to Duke, and in their shared silence, they seem to communicate everything with each other.

“I love you,” he states.

She turns, eyes widening for a second before grinning around her sip of iced tea. “I love you.” Her brows furrow just a little. “You okay? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“If you didn’t want McDonalds, I could’ve done something else. Literally anything else,” she continues on almost as if she hadn’t heard him.

“It’s not the food,” he giggles. Calum reaches out to caress her cheek. “I’m okay.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“I just love you, that’s all. Wanted to share it with you.”

Her grin is soft as it lifts her lips. “Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of getting rid of you.”

Another silence envelopes them. Calum finishes his food and takes the empty containers to the trash. Another episode starts up from the speakers and just above it, he hears the chime of his phone. “Do you want me to screen it for you?”

“Yes please!” If it’s one of the guys, they won’t mind her answering. If it’s someone important, he doesn’t want to miss the call.

“Calum’s phone,” she answers but he can already hear her feet shuffling to him in the kitchen. “Okay, Ash. I’ll keep that in mind.” Her voice comes closer and Calum shakes his hands just a little to get rid of the excess water before drying them. “No, I can’t say what it is without taking a look. Did you use the soil I recommended last time?” Another pause comes from her and when Calum turns, he finds her leaning up the kitchen counter, phone halfway pulled down but not fully away from her ear. “Yeah, I definitely think you should consider changing soils. But I can take a better look tomorrow for you. I’m going to pass along the phone now.”

She hands the phone over. “He said it was important.”

“Thank you,” Calum says in a whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then placing the phone to his ear. “Yeah, Ash?”

Calum’s not even sure how long the conversation goes on. At first, it is important information that Ashton’s trying to confirm--a date and time for a meeting that they had later in the week. He says he wrote it down where he writes down all their meetings but it’s not there. And Ashton’s trying to make sure that he doesn’t miss it. So Calum shuffles to his office and verifies in his calendar the time for the meeting.

But then the conversation diverges--they start talking about everything and anything. So much so, they’re laughing. Calum doesn’t even hear the knock at the front door. But he does notice her scurrying off into the bedroom. The door closes with a soft click. Duke comes trailing after her but notices the closer door and then keeps down the hall to the office. Calum reclines back in his seat trying to get another angle at the door. But it’s closed fully.

“You okay, gramps?” Calum asks Duke.

“Oh fuck off, mate!” Ashton laughs.

“Not you, you fucking egg. Duke--I was talking to Duke.”

“Oh!” Ashton giggles. “Sorry, I thought you was trying to talk shit.”

“I don’t have to try and do that to you.”

“Oi, don’t start something bro.” The two of them laugh and Calum bends down to scratch behind Duke’s ears. “Alright, thanks for confirming that meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow in the studio?”

“Yeah--bright and early. Talk to you later.” The call ends and when Calum spins around in his desk chair, his jaw drops as she steps out from the bedroom. It’s not exactly something new--as in something that she’s never worn before. But it doesn’t mean he ever gets tired of seeing her like this.

The white bustier pushes her breasts up and almost over the cups. And he travels the look down, taking in the baby blue skirt, fishnet knee highs. And he goes back up, taking in a black strap wrapping around her thighs. She notes the lustful gaze and steps right on the line of the threshold to the door.

“So,” Calum starts, trailing his gaze down and then back up to her face. “Not the black lingerie I was anticipating.”

“No, I’m waiting for the heels I want for that lingerie to go on sale. Besides, you didn’t like the collar I liked so I’m still searching.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. It’s just too similar to one we already bought.”

“You’re right, but still.”

Calum cracks a smile at the reluctant confession. “But enough about that. This--this is a cute outfit.”

She nods, smoothing out the pleated mini skirt. “It’s less about the outfit and more about these,” she says, tapping at the thin black band.

“And those are?” Calum asks. It’s one step closer into the room and Calum think he can make out a heart shaped metal loop in the middle of it. She takes a second step closer and Calum can see clearly it’s some sort of thigh garter--leather or something related as the material. “Oh,” he breathes.

She continues slowly to approach Calum and when she’s just in arms reach, she lifts the skirt up. It goes up inch by inch and Calum’s entranced. Watching more of her thighs revealed to him. And soon it’s black panties--mesh and if Calum remembers correctly crotchless. But wrapped around her waist is another band of leather. Two pieces hook to another metal hoop right on her hip bones and then one trip connects the top piece to the bottom.

“A harness garter belt--what do you think?” she asks in a whisper.

Calum exhales, desire stirring in the pit of his stomach. He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around her thighs and pulling her into him. He kisses in the spaces between the leather, gingerly, lips hardly touching her skin. “I think you look beautiful,” he hums, dropping his head on his neck to look up at her.

Her eyes are still closed and Calum softly runs the tips of his fingers up her thigh, tracing the lines of the harness. With a deep exhale, she finally blinks back to reality. “Not too silly?”

His brows meet in the middle of his face. Why would she think it’s too silly? There’s nothing silly about her standing in front of him, clearly excited about her own purchase. “Angel--I’ll be damned if I ever think this is silly.”

Swinging her leg over and settling onto his lap, she grins. “Thank you, love.”

Calum holds onto her hips, rubbing his palms down to her ass. “So you said this technically isn’t lingerie?”

“No--I don’t think so. But I think they could be--a small accessory to something I already have.”

They share a kiss, much too quick for Calum’s liking so he pulls her back in for more. And her arms wind around his neck as he continues to palm her ass. Here, he doesn’t really care what it is technically or not. She looks absolutely amazing. “I like it. In fact,” Calum starts, moving to grip her thighs before housing them both up and then plopping her down on the desk. “I really like them.”

Calum stands between her legs, nose brushing and bumping against hers. Here, she can feel her core aching as Calum’s fingers trail closer and closer to her heat. It’s feather light--his touch, but it makes her feel electric all the same. “Cal,” she hums.

“Yes baby?”

There’s nothing that comes out of her mouth but a small huff, a rushed and harsh exhale at the feeling of his fingers dancing across her skin. He grins pulling back just a little to see the way her face goes slack, almost as if she’s at peace with him between her legs.

“Was there something you wanted to say, darlin’?” Calum tries again, taking just a half step back away from her.

With her eyes still closed, she smiles. “I want to know,” she starts, exhaling softly to counter the thud of her heart in her chest, “if you’d so kindly want to make love to me?”

Calum can’t help his own small tuft of laughter. “Darlin’, I’d do so happily.” They don’t always wind up in bed like this--but it’s nice, to be comfortable even to be this forward with this and this open.

Calum takes her hand as she hops down from the desk. “Give me a twirl,” he asks. She obliges, turning in a circle for Calum, punctuating the back view by lifting her skirt up. “Silly girl,” Calum laughs, giving a firm but playful tap to her ass.

Facing Calum again, she wraps her arms around his torso. “But you love it.”

“I do. I love you.”

They share another kiss and she slowly walks backwards out of the room. They get lost in each other--Calum in the way she fits against him and her in the way Calum holds her, palms spanning across her back and tight enough that she wonders if he thinks she’s going to disappear but gently enough at the same time that she’d love nothing more than staying here forever in his hold.

Calum finds the zipper to the top and slowly drags it down. The material exhales, slowly falling away from her body and when it falls to the floor, he kisses her neck, down to the swell of her breast. Her moans are soft, just above a hum that makes just enough noise for him to hear. And it goes right to his gut.

Here there's very little need for words. When Calum gives, she takes happily. But when she tugs at his hair, Calum knows to step back, lets her give something to him. Her kisses are soft against his skin, but make him feel like it’s being set on fire. One that he’d happily stay in, let the blaze consume every inch of him, if it meant that she was always the one to take him.

His shirt goes to join hers. Her mouth teases his nipples as she descends further down on him. Calum thinks he sighs, all he can do is just shut his eyes and let go into the feeling of her teasing the cut of his hips beneath the sweatpants. She’s always like this, teasing him. At first, it used to annoy him. But now he loves it, loves just how close she’s willing to push him to the edge, push his buttons but always delivering at the end of it.

Her meticulous work, to watch him jump at every scratch of her nails and nip of her teeth, is enjoyable. But Calum blinks open his eyes to cup her jaw, which stops her. When her gaze lifts, Calum motions for her to stand. “Yes?” she grins standing to her full height.

Calum presses their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“Well how dare I keep a man like you waiting?” With a slow kiss, tongues just barely dancing, Calum walks the two of them to the bed. The back of her knees hit the edge of it and she buckles just a little. Calum catches her from falling. “Turn around,” he whispers into her ear, “please.”

The instruction is obeyed and she spins to face the bed. Calum finds the zipper to the powder blue skirt and almost doesn’t want to take it off her. In the end, he does-- Calum lets the skirt fall onto a pool at their feet. Without even prompting she falls to her hands, ass grinding against his hips. He traces her spine with the pads of his fingers, following all the way down, over the curve of her ass and down to the opening in the panties. His fingers gather a bit of her arousal.

“Oh,” he groans. “So wet for me,” he hums with approval.

“Always for you,” she sighs. Calum teases her clit--a featherlight touch as he dances over her core. She lets herself fall a little bit more into the mattress--another moan leaving her lips when Calum takes one finger down from her clit to teasing her entrance.

Calum pulls away, bring his wet fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. “Taste just like heaven,” he hums. He gingerly guides her back to standing and uses her hips to get her to face him again.

More kisses are shared before they fall onto the mattress. Calum takes hold of one of the straps around her thigh and tugs her down, closer to him and she laughs. It gets caught off and morphed into a moan as Calum’s tongue licks a wide stripe up her. He’s careful of the mesh material of her panties, but knows that carefulness won’t last long. Not when her arousal coats his tongue. Not when her nails scratch over the muscles of his shoulders or tangle into the curls on his head.

She melts under the work of his mouth. The mattress merely becoming the vessel to hold the mess she’s bound to make and become. The room echoes the moans and slurps. Fingers gripping at the sheet, she chants Calum’s name. His tongue working magic over her core and just when she thinks she couldn’t possibly handle anything more, she notices the stretch at the addition of his fingers.

“Fuck,” she whines, lifiting one leg and he slips in even deeper, curling his fingers and hitting just the right spot.

Calum hungers for her pleasure--the high-pitched whine and groan as she releases. Some days it’s just the sound he needs to ground him. She gives short and breathless huffs, and quivers underneath him. “Gonna be a good girl?” Calum asks, fingers still pumping at her.

“Yes, oh yes, I will.”

“Gonna cum for me?”

“I want to, yes I’ll come for you. Make me your good girl.” Her voice sounds far away, as if she’s not fully cognizant of what she’s saying. Not quite babbling, but definitely talking so fast words bump into each other and slur together.

Calum grins, sucking at her clit again and she groans, head throwing back against the pillows. Her toes are curling--her whole body growing warmer with the passing second. The heat coils in her lower gut and she’s pleading. Though, she’s not sure who she is really meaning to plead to, but she wants to cum so badly.

Then it finally happens, one moment she’s sure she’s nearly in tears and the next, the coil snaps. She squeezes, hips raising off the bed and Calum continues to ride out her orgasm, gently pressing her back down into the bed. She hisses and starts to push at his shoulders, the signal that it’s too much. So Calum places one last kiss to her clit before pulling away from her glistening core.

Beneath him, eyes fluttering close, she looks angelic. Calum holds himself up above her and just watches the way she tries to collect her breath. “You’re beautiful, you know?” he whispers, not wanting to shatter the silence.

“No kidding?” she teases, winding her arms around his neck. The necklace dangles just a little in her face and she takes one hand to trace the chain. Hooking her fingers into it, she tugs Calum down to her. The taste of her arousal on Calum’s tongue makes her head spin. Calum caresses her side and stomach as the kiss deepens. Here is all they need--the soft and deep kisses, the moans that they swallow from each other.

Her hands leave from around his neck and begin to push down his sweatpants and underwear. And he lets her, even pulls back to kneel on his knees as she sits up. Their kiss hardly breaks and she’s quick to tug the cotton material down, hands wrapping around his length.

He groans at the squeeze--nothing too hard just enough pressure to make his whole body ignite. Her hand pumps him, once, then twice slowly and teasing him. “Baby,” he sighs, relishing the feeling of her hands working over him. The stay like that only for a minute or two before Calum pauses her to step down and full disrobe.

When he climbs back onto the bed, he crawls over her. “Welcome back, handsome,” she greets.

“Oh, it’s so good to be back,” he returns, grinning.

She runs her fingers over the tattoos decorating his chest, out of habit, out of something to ground her for a moment. There’s no way he’s real and it shouldn’t ever shock her like this. But sometimes it sneaks up on her and the realization of how madly in love she is with his man hits her all over again.

“What are you thinking about?” Calum asks.

“How much I love you,” she answers softly.

“I love you too,” he returns, bending down to kiss her. It’s soft and sweet--the kiss. For a moment, they just inhale the breaths of the other. It’s a tender moment, one that neither one wants to interrupt, so they let it linger, smiling at each other. She stretches up to kiss him, one hand trailing between their bodies and Calum catches the hint all too quickly when she traces along his length.

“I haven’t forgotten, love,” he exhales in a breathy laugh. “Trust me, I could never forget.” Once lined up, Calum’s slow to sink into her. One, he wants to drag this out, enjoy every inch of him that she grips of him. And two, because he wants to make sure that even in the lull that she’s ready to take him.

Her head falls back, hair pushing into the pillow and neck exposing itself to him. A tempting sight but Calum loses himself in the feeling of her wetness. He’s slow, pulling out just a bit before sinking further back into her. Her sighs and words of encouragement are soft from beneath him but they fuel him.

The pace quickens and both of them groan at the ecstasy. Out of reflex, she lifts one leg to readjust her hip flexor and Calum brings it up, resting her ankle on his shoulder. He kisses over the joint and the anklet, savoring just how much of her he can feel like this.

The chain dangles in her face, brushing in the valley of her breast and she revels in the feeling of Calum reaching the full depths of her body. She digs her nails into his flesh, more curses falling from her lip. But some of them get lost in the groans that win out. “God,” she huffs. “You’re everywhere.” And though it’s a bit of strain to get the words out because Calum’s pace is relentless as he snaps his hips into hers, she pushes the words out.

“You always take me so well,” he praises, watching the way her face contorts. “Oh, so soon, love? You’re going to cum again for me so fucking soon, like a good girl.”

Her whine slips out first but she nods, feeling the coil tightening yet again in her lower abdomen. Her body is hot, and she can already feel the prickle of sweat on her forehead. “Please, baby, please,” she begs.

“As you wish,” he hums, his own orgasm approaching faster than he anticipated. His body humming as the warmth spreads. The bed rocks just a little, hitting the wall and the sounds echo around them as they sigh and moan to each other. But the only thing that really matters to them, is each other.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, voice straining as she orgasms. No noise comes from her, but her mouth opens like if she had the breath she’d definitely be screaming his name. This time the quakes last longer, her whole body shaking. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he hums, bumping his nose against her jaw, still riding through her orgasm.

“Shit, oh my god,” she shudders, wrapping her arms around his neck.

There’s a slight hiss when Calum moves again, and he kisses over her face, starting with her nose and then moving to her cheeks. Another quake takes her and Calum, not anticipating it, groans-- his orgasm now right on the edge. It won’t be much longer, but she nibbles at his earlobe. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Made me feel so fucking good. I want you to cum in me. So fucking deep,” she hums.

And while Calum’s trying to get his own rebuttal to the tip of his tongue, she squeezes around him. “Fuck,” he yelps just a little, his body erupting with his orgasm. His body shudders and he’s so blindsided by the feeling, his slips just a little, more of his weight settling onto her than usual.

She doesn’t say anything, just hums at the feeling of him succumbing to the pleasure. “Oh, that’s what I wanted,” she encourages. It leaves her throat like a purr and Calum shivers again at the sound.

They lay together, for a moment, her nails scratching lightly at the muscles in his back. Calum sinks into her, body going heavy. Her slight shift squeezes around him and he groans, sensitive. “Don’t--I can’t,” he laughs.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” Even her own voice sounds heavy and slurred. She kisses his temple and Calum pushes up. He’s slow to pull out, enjoying the drips that follow of his own release spilling out of her. With one finger he gently scopes it back up and into her. The familiar twinge of desire pulls at his lower gut and it’s almost enough. She even shivers, but Calum watches the way her eyes stay closed.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Sleepy now,” she returns.

“Let’s get cleaned up first and then we can nap.” His voice sounds farther away towards the end of the sentence and she assumes he went to the attached bathroom. The rush of water from the sink confirms it. Something wet and warm presses against her--no doubt Calum with a warm washcloth.

The clean up is swift as both of them share a shower and then under the sheets, they curl up around each other. Calum kisses the top of her head as she nuzzles in closely. “I want pancakes after our nap,” she mutters.

“I think we still have some blueberries.”

She pops up onto her elbow and grins a little. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

Calum laughs. “Maybe just a little bit.”

[snowpeawritings]

14. Everyday’s Great...

Philemon seems to enjoy seeing his Wild Cards live on with their lives…

insp.

Persona 4 Golden X FeMC!Reader

05/03/TUE-Daytime | Junes Foodcourt

“If the killer was trying to silence her, there might’ve been something at the scene only she would have understood. Which would mean that the culprit may be someone close to Ms. Konishi.”

The words of Adachi still rang fresh in your mind. Yesterday, you and Yosuke offered to treat Chie and Yukiko Junes’s steak meal as compensation for your Personas practically eating all of the instant noodles. When your group had given them the steaks, Adachi had came by and began rambling his mouth over precious information. The evidence that’s been compiled from the police has been keeping you awake at night. Even Izanami had caught on with your overthinking, her trying to shake you out of it last night and before you were meeting with the others plus Nanako.

Speaking of Nanako, she was having the time of her life being at the food court despite it being, well, just a food court. You wish you could share her happiness but with how those words ring in your mind, you just couldn’t share her sentiment.

“So you’re the family cook, huh? Pretty impressive ‘Big Sis’!”

You blinked out from your thoughts, looking at Chie for a moment before shrugging. “You have to do what you have to do.”

You tried to ignore the sharp, side-eye glance from your Persona as you fiddled with the hem of your coat.

“As expected from our Leader! You’re pretty good with your hands when you made me that pork cutlet the other day!” Yosuke said, giving you a thumbs up.

Jiraiya, who was being held by the scarf by Tomoe, piped up. “’Good with your hands’...? Really, man?”

Yosuke choked, cheeks flushing red. “D-Don’t take words out of my mouth!”

You were thankful for the distraction as Izanami shook her head at the Wind-attuned Persona. “I blame the both of you for that.”

Beside her, the shivering pink Persona looked at Jiraiya and Tomoe. The muscled Persona still had Jiraiya in a strong, leash-like grip. “They’re quite close, aren’t they?”

From that comment, Tomoe sneered but held no ill will against Konohana. “As if I would be close to scum like this idiot.”

“Hey, that’s like two insults already!” Jiraiya yelled at her. “Besides, it’s not like I bug you all the time and the rest of the ladies don’t realize I exist!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we have a new ally on our cause that I’d rather not corrupt so soon.”

Beside Yukiko, Konohana Sakuya was busy trying to catch a butterfly between her hands. It would’ve been adorable if the butterfly phased through her hands like they were nothing before she sadly sighed. She may not have realized that she was able to physically grasp things at her will but you’ll put your faith in Izanami that she’ll teach her... Even though you don’t know how they do it themselves.

Jiraiya clicked his tongue in disdain before moving his head towards Yukiko. “Hey, Amagi, was it?”

The girl in red jumped up in surprise, not expecting to be under fire. “Um, yes?”

He cocked his head (as much as he could) to your direction. “You sure you don’t have any closeted feelings for ____ here? Because I’m pretty sure Sakuya here says otherwise.”

“Dude!”

“Anyway!” Chie exclaimed before patting her hand behind Nanako’s chair loudly: A sign that there was a child in the group and, most importantly, she can’t see or hear your Personas. “I can consider myself a pretty good cook too!”

Yosuke scoffed. “You? Cook? Hard pass.”

“What, you wanna cook-off?!”

From her battle cry, Tomoe let go of Jiraiya’s scarf and raised her fist at Yosuke. “Bring it on! Chie will not be defeated by the likes of you!”

Jiraiya flexed his shoulders even though you knew that he was joking about this. “Don’t cry when you lose, woman.”

“Children, behave.” Izanami said, but not making a move to stop them at all.

Now that it sunk in, you looked back at her on why she wasn't stopping them. In fact, she was leaning on her left leg and her arms crossed like she's watching actual children fight. All you could think about was since when was Izanami so laid-back? She wasn't like this before and you didn't even know Izanami could take a joke.

As if wanting to further spiral your mind into disarray, she joined in on the festivities. "If we're speaking about culinary talents, it is my own master who will reign supreme."

Good god, since when can she gloat?

Soon, everyone has the same aghast expression on their face. With everyone looking at Izanami like she told them that your hand would be fine if you dunk it in scalding hot water, it was a wonder how Izanami wasn't buckling down from the attention. Even Yosuke, Chie, and Yukiko are looking at her like she was the goddess that she's supposed to be.

Nanako, who finished her snack with a smile, looked up to see all of you staring at something with a funny expression on your faces. She looked to where you all were staring at only to find nothing but a cat with its paws outstretched towards a fish decoration. It was clearly fake and sloppily done-the white of the paper peeking through the mismatched crayons-but the cat deemed it was tasty enough for it to try and eat it.

But the girl thinks that it was funny enough, so she copied your expressions with glee.

Eventually, Izanami noticed their staring and shrugged. "Jiraiya must be rubbing off on me."

Like a gust of wind, the frog immediately slid next to her like in those cartoons before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Oh, Izanami! You sly woman, how adorable that you're taking my mannerisms!"

As if to add more to the fire, his voice dipped lower, a tone that you never heard him or even Yosuke since they sound remotely the same, made you shiver. "You trying to turn me on?"

Before Izanami could say anything, a sharp spear was hooked under his scarf and yanked him away. It wasn't long before a smack was heard.

“Um… Anyway…” Yosuke steered back the conversation to them. “So Nanako-chan! With all these contenders in our group, I bet we can make something that could top your mom’s cooking!”

You and Izanami winced.

Nanako answered without flinching. “I don’t have a mom. She died in an accident.”

Everyone besides you and Izanami eyes widened at the statement. Tomoe stood even more rigid than usual, Jiraiya actually paused in his floating for once, and Konohana stopped fiddling with her petals.

It took a while but Chie nudged Yosuke with her hand. “Hey, Yosuke…”

He fumbled with his words, trying to come up with something to try and clear the awkward air, but all he could muster was the usual ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know’ phrase.

Luckily, Nanako took it in stride. “It’s okay. Even if I don’t have a mom, I have Dad with me.”

And to put the final nail in the coffin for being how cute she was, she turned to you, a happy blush on her cheeks. “And now I have a big sister, too!”

And now to bury the coffin, she turned to everyone. “And I’m having a lot of fun today! I love Junes!”

"... I will die for this child." Jiraiya said seriously. "I will."

"For once, I agree with you frog." Tomoe said.

Even Konohana, the most emotional Persona, started bawling. "Sh-She's the sweetest!"

Izanami tried to comfort Konohana but that even croaked another cry from the pink Persona as her petals fluttered from her shaking.

Looking at your friends, you see that they also share the same sentiment, albeit not as extreme as their Personas. You were pretty sure Yosuke was about to straight up cry though.

Chie smiled at her. "We'll play with you all that you want, Nanako! Just say the word!"

Yukiko piped in. "Yeah, we should hang out more often."

"Nanako-chan!" Yosuke said to her with an easy-going smile. "How about I buy you a drink?"

She nodded gleefully at Yosuke before following him to the drinks stand. It wasn't long before Jiraiya followed them, wanting to watch over Nanako like his life depended on it. The rest of you watched them go away.

"She's a strong girl." Yukiko said after they were out of hearing range.

"Yeah," Chie replied to her, "she makes me feel like I'm the little kid."

"She'll grow up to be a strong woman. I just know it." Tomoe said softly and you couldn't help but linger for a second that Tomoe let her guard down.

Konohana looked at Tomoe then to the direction where Yosuke, Nanako and Jiraiya went. "Do you think Jiraiya may be talking Yosuke's ear off?"

A momentary silence ensued before Tomoe sighed sharply and went to the drinks stand. Konohana soon followed, at least wanting to try and calm down Tomoe. It wasn't long before Yukiko and Chie followed them, not to stop them but to buy something for Nanako.

You have a feeling your friends won't stop spoiling Nanako anytime soon.

"Nanako has them wrapped around her fingers." Izanami said.

You were sure it was a joke. It has to, with how laid-back she is right now.

"You're not going with them?" You asked her.

She paused before she turned to you with her golden eyes. "Not after you tell me what's been bothering you."

You flinched under her gaze, looking away from her piercing stare as you fiddled with your hands. "What do you mean?"

"Do not try and dissuade me. You've been silent ever since you came here with Nanako. Even you aren't immune to her charms."

You struggled to formulate a response. You weren't as eloquent like the books you've read so you can't weasel your way out of her interrogation.

With a sigh, you resigned yourself to your fate as you looked at your Persona. "I'm just… thinking about the case."

She tilted her head. "We think about it all the time."

"No, like-" You said, the temporary flare of frustration creeping up but you held it down. "I just… want to solve this case as soon as possible."

"Hasty decisions lead to dire consequences." She quoted. "We have time to figure out the truth."

"I get that, but like…" You trailed off. You suck in a breath before continuing. "I don't want this team to worry even more. We're supposed to be worrying about midterms, for god's sake. Not finding some serial killer on the loose!"

Izanami sharply said your name, reminding you that you were technically by your lonesome in the eyes of others. "I understand how you feel. You are still a child, wrapped up in responsibilities that shouldn't even be on your shoulders."

She then looked down, looking like she was mulling over on what else to say before staring at you straight in the eyes. "But you have friends that care for you, even a family to care for you. And you still have me."

For what felt like hours, you stared back into those golden eyes. They seemed to shine even brighter than before and you don't know if that was the watery sensation you're getting in your eyes.

"You still have us," She continued, "you're not alone in this."

You blinked away, trying to fight back the tears before nodding at her. "... Thanks."

She let out an amused huff before turning her head to hear footsteps coming towards your table. Nanako came back with a carefree smile on her face.

"Do you want something too?"

Thou art I… And I am thou…

Thou hast established a new bond…

It brings thee closer to the truth…

Thou shalt be blessed when creating Personas of the Justice Arcana… 

Persona Time

After bidding goodbye to your friends, you, Izanami, and Nanako went back home. The little girl now has a little baggie full of snacks provided by all of your friends. You wondered briefly if her teeth would be alright with all of the sweets they bought for her but she comforted your fears by saying she won’t eat them all the time.

That being said, that didn’t stop her from eating a choco cornet. The chocolatey filling made her squeal in happiness as she savored the pastry. You two went around the shopping district, not quite ready to go home yet when the sun is still high. You thought about attempting the Mega Beef Bowl Challenge again but it wouldn’t be worth it when it wasn’t raining.

Right now, you looked at the shops, eyes lingering on an old textile shop. Recalling the news last time, there was a brawl that happened in front of the store because some punks were causing a ruckus. It was at that moment when…

“Hey,” Nanako said softly, “there’s a funny-looking guy at that shop.”

The lady’s son stood in front of the textile shop like he was protecting it from anything harmful. His bleached hair made him stand-out from the passersby as his daunting stature made him look like he was a part of a syndicate. If the news didn’t slip that he was a year under you, you would’ve kept your guard up.

You tugged on Nanako’s hand. “Let’s steer clear from that guy, okay?”

She muttered an ‘okay’ before following you. Izanami stepped ahead of you two, cleaver in her hands in case of anything that could happen. You and Nanako hurried to the nearest bus stop, trying to avoid any eye contact from him as Izanami stood guard.

For a moment, you were about to be away from the first-year before somebody stopped you. An arm darted out in front of you, belonging to an older man that you’ve no doubt want to punch his teeth in if not for a child in the vicinity.

“What’s the rush?” He slurred and you recoiled back from his breath. You quickly placed Nanako behind you as Izanami raised her cleaver.

“Leave us alone.” You spat, not bothering to give him the time of day. You tried to dodge him but that led to him sidestepping back in front of your vision. You felt Nanako shiver from behind you as you glared at the man. Izanami swung her cleaver back, ready to maim.

"No need to be afraid! I'm gonna take real good care of you two--"

Before he could even finish his sentence, a fist came and clocked him clean in the jaw. Nanako gasped, you pulled her closer as you followed the fist to see the bleach-haired first year staring down at the pervert like he was scum.

"How many times do I gotta tell ya?!" The first-year spat, kicking his foot towards the man's chest as he doubled-over in pain. "If I see ya here one more time, it won't be just your face that's gonna get a beat-down!"

The man couldn't even respond, seeing from the odd angle of his jaw. He hurried to his feet and ran away from you, not even looking back.

Beside you, Izanami lowered her cleaver. "That was… an event."

You nodded at her before looking down at Nanako. She was still shaking but not as much as before. She didn't even realize her choco cornet had been squeezed too much, the chocolate filling already staining her clothes.

But it looked like she didn't mind. Instead, she looked at the first-year with a wide-eyed smile. "Thanks mister for beating him up!"

Like a lightswitch, he immediately turned into a blushing mess. He stumbled with his words, looking away from Nanako as he stuffed his hands into his pants pockets.

"Sh-Shut up! I didn't do it for you!"

Ah, so he's that type.

"Thanks still, for chasing him away." You said to him, smiling softly. "We owe you one."

He choked. "You ain't owin' me nothin'!"

Your lips quirked upwards at his real demeanor, wanting to tease him even more but he was still a punk that socked someone without hesitation. You still had Nanako behind you and a pile of books that you need to study for midterms.

“Thanks anyway. Stay safe.” You said to him earnestly before walking to the bus stop. Nanako lagged behind a bit, looking back at the bleached boy with a smile.

“Goodbye, strong man!”

Izanami was the only fortunate soul to witness a boy combust to the ground.

[lightsburnbrite]

Things We Do for Love: Part 7

Third part to Such a Thrill and The Devil is in the Details 

Karina looped her arm through Leon's as they left Dr. Kattan's office. They had agreed that monthly check ins would be a good idea while Karina continued with her weekly sessions.

"So, um," Leon gently bumped into Karina as they walked to his car. "Our winter break is coming up. Did you want to go away or did you have something else in mind?"

With a shrug, Karina stepped away as she went to the passenger side. Once they were both in, she spoke. "I want you to do what you want to do."

"Ok." Leon couldn't tell if Karina was trying to say what she thought he wanted to hear or if she was being honest. "What if I said I wanted to do what you wanted to do?"

Karina shot him a look but she wasn't really irritated. "Leon, please. You usually like to go skiing with the boys. So, go skiing with the boys."

"First, I don't want to go skiing this year. Second, what about Christmas?" He gave her another playful nudge. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say we won't be visiting your family."

She shook her head this time. "Babe, I'm serious. Go visit your family and then hang out with your friends. I'll be here when you get back."

Leon let out a sigh but waited a moment before responding. "Karina Müller, you are my family too and I want to spend my break with you. Listen, what do you think about spending it at the big house? We can invite my family down for a few days and then just have time to ourselves for the rest."

"I'm not so sure that everyone else is going to be as willing to forgive me as you have been." She turned in her seat to look at him. "I don't want to cause any drama."

He laughed now. "Look, I get being nervous about seeing them again, but there won't be any drama. My family really does like you."

"Ok" She closed her eyes and nodded. "Give me a couple of days to get things decorated. I'll leave it up to you to coordinate things with them."

Karina left ahead of Leon and spent the next few days getting things ready for their guests.

While everyone had arrived at different times, Karina and Leon showed everyone to their rooms before giving everyone the main tour. Most of them had been there once before but it was a few years ago and she had changed a few things as well and Leon knew that Karina loved showing off what she had done with the house. Once everyone was settled, Karina joined Leon and his mother in the kitchen.  Karina excused herself to take a phone call but returned with a big smile on her face.

"Everything good?" Leon raised an eyebrow.

Karina nodded. "The chef that I wanted agreed to come tomorrow night."

"Well isn't that nice." His mother looked up and smiled. "I'm sure you'll learn to cook soon."

Leon saw the smile fall from Karina's face and immediately intervened. "Karina already is an amazing cook."

"Oh, I suppose I just assumed she wasn't cooking for her guests because she couldn't." His mother offered a dismissive shrug.

At that moment, he knew Karina was steeling herself. Her gaze became distant as she took a larger drink of her wine.

"Mama, I suggested that we hire a chef for the evening so that we would both have time to spend with our guests." Leon cleared his throat. "Otherwise you'd be complaining that she was too busy in the kitchen to be a good host."

Karina shook her head, holding up her hand slightly. "It's fine, Leon."

"No," He protested. "That was uncalled for."

"I'm just going to come out and say it then. Am I not allowed to be concerned that this woman is suddenly welcoming you back with open arms after she drove you away and then left the country for over a year?" Leon's mother gathered herself. "What makes you think she won't do it again? What makes you think that she is deserving of your forgiveness?"

"I'm not. I know that." Karina spoke up this time. Her voice was soft yet somehow definitive. "And I'm sorry that it isn't what you had expected. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get some air."

When Karina stood, Leon did as well. He started to go with her but she shook her head. 

"Stay with your mother," She spoke into his ear as to not be overheard. "It's been a little while since you've seen her. Just give her your time."

Leon watched Karina walk down the hall towards the master bedroom, grabbing a bottle of wine from the cooler on her way.

Turning back to his mother, Leon held his hands up. "Why did you have to say that?"

"What am I supposed to do?" She replied cooly. "Welcome her back with open arms as if she didn't leave you for over a year?"

Leon closed his eyes and willed himself to remain calm. "I've forgiven her, that should be good enough for you."

"Why now? Why did she even leave in the first place?" His mother had dropped her defensive front and now seemed as if she was trying to understand Karina's motives.

He frowned but eventually caved. "I wasn't sure if I still was ok with not having kids so we were having a bit of an argument about that when her parents called to say they had decided that her previous relationship was unacceptable and they no longer considered her to be part of their family. Karina kinda lost it at the point. She left because she wanted me to be happy and thought she wouldn't be able to do that for me."

Leon's mother sat their for a moment, processing what she had just heard. "What was wrong with her previous relationship?"

"While she was interning at the alte pinakothek, she met a man in his sixties who was well connected in the art community. Strohman asked her to be his companion and in return, he took care of her finances." Leon rubbed his eyes before continuing. "When Karina and I started spending more time together and he found out about me, he pretty much moved aside so that we were free to start seeing each other. I met him once at his request after he broke up with Karina but he basically knew he was dying from cancer and didn't want Karina to grieve him but he left everything in his estate, including this house, to her. I guess her parents didn't like the age difference and that they were very upfront about the financial aspect of their relationship." 

Again, she frowned. "Why did Karina decide that she was ready to come back?"

"I asked her to." Leon shrugged. "We met up to finalize the divorce but I told her I regretted not fighting harder for her to stay and I thought it was a mistake. It took a little bit to convince her that I wouldn't be happy unless we were together but we've been in couples therapy and things are going well."

She took a moment before she spoke as if to process things. "I see. It's getting late, I believe I'll turn in for the evening."

After Leon's mother had wished him a good night, he stayed in the kitchen for a few more moments. When he went up to their bedroom, he found Karina in the bath, the almost empty bottle next to the tub.

"Hey." He sat down on the floor next to the tub and rested his arm on the edge.

Karina, looking pleasantly drowsy, simply yawned and stretched her arms above her head. "It turns out I have a lot more work to get through than I thought. I might end up just going back to the apartment if that's ok."

With a sigh, Leon rested his head on his arm. "I'm not going to force you to spend time with my family. If you want to go home, that's fine."

"No, that's not what I'm saying…" Seemingly defeated, Karina sunk down lower in the tub.

"If it means anything to you, I want you to stay here."Leon reached for the honey soap in he corner of the tub and dunked it into the water before rubbing it between his hands to create a lather. He smoothed the bubbles across her shoulder, massaging them as he went along. "Don't worry about my mother. She'll come around."

Karina wanted to protest, to insist that she wouldn't ruin his family's Christmas but there was something so reassuring about Leon's tone and the weight of his hands on her. Instead, she closed her eyes again and sighed. 

Cupping his hands together, Leon poured some water over her shoulders, her arms, washing the suds off. He followed the cascade of water with a trail of kisses. "Ready to get out?"

Once she nodded, Leon stood and held his hands out to help Karina up. He brought a towel to her once she had stepped out. For some reason, it was now as though Karina was operating on autopilot. Leon dried her off and guided her back to their bedroom, gently nudging her to sit down on the bed while he got out one of her favorite shirts to sleep in. "C'mon. You've had a long day, let's get some sleep."

Karina stood back up once she had slipped the t-shirt over her head. Taking one step forward, she wrapped her arms around Leon's neck and rested her head against his chest. "I love you, sir."

"I know, Maus." Leon rested his arms around her waist and gently rocked them from side to side. "I love you, too."

Karina woke up even earlier than usual, Leon was still in a dead sleep, but she knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. After pulling on a hoodie and a pair of joggers, Karina made her way to the kitchen. She put food in the dog bowls and then let them out the side door where she stood and watched them play in the snow for a bit. The dogs knew how to jump up and hit the lever door handle with their paws so she turned her attention to starting a pot of coffee.

"May we speak?"

Karina jumped as she heard a voice behind her. Inhaling, she turned to face Leon's mother. "Yes. Of course."

"This certainly is a beautiful view." By this time, she had turned to look out, admiring the alps in the distance. "I can see why you're so fond of it here." 

Offering a polite smile, Karina nodded. "I consider myself very lucky to have inherited it."

His mother returned her smile. "I believe you know how much I love my son so it shouldn't surprise you that I have not been as willing to forgive and forget."

"I'm not asking you to." Karina just shrugged. "I, um, I don't really know what else to say. I've tried telling Leon that he deserves more than me but you know how stubborn he can be. I was just going to make coffee and then I'll go to my office so you can enjoy your time with your family."

Leon's mother shook her head. "No, Karina, that won't be necessary. Leon and I had a long conversation last night. Not that there was any obligation to but he never told us the circumstances around you leaving, just that you had legitimate reasons and we should respect that."

Karina watched, warily, as his mother sat down and cleared her throat. 

"I have been upset with my children for various decisions they have made," She made sure to face Karina now. "But I cannot fathom deciding to cut off all contact. I simply do not understand how two people can consider themselves parents yet decide to throw their daughter away because she had an unconventional relationship with an older man."

She didn't like hearing her situation broken down like that, especially not by someone aside from her therapist or Leon. Karina stood rigidly and crossed her arms over her chest, giving no indication that she was ready to join the conversation.

Leon's mother gave a slight nod, acknowledging her difficulty. "I understand that some time has passed and that you have been seeing a professional about it but it is clear that you are still hurting so I can only imagine how you must have felt in that moment. I know how heartbroken Leon was but I never stopped to consider how much pain you were in that you may have felt leaving was the only option you had. I want you to know that, as our daughter in law, you are very much part of our family, even if you don't share our name.  I want you to know that I am eternally grateful for how happy you make my son and I think the two of you are lucky to have each other. Thank you for opening your lovely home to all of my children so we may share this time together."

At this point, Karina couldn't help the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

"Maus?"

Both Karina and Leon's mother turned to see him entering the kitchen. 

"Mama," Leon immediately went on the defensive. "Mama, I told you to leave her alone."

Karina moved towards him to cut him off. She placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed back against him. "It's fine, we're ok."

Leon looked to his mother who simply smiled. "We've had a bit of a heart to heart, if you will. I simply reassured Karina that I was here to celebrate with my family and she is part of my family."

[fuwafuwamedb]

Aruru (Hakuno, Gilgamesh)

“My love!”

“My king!”

“Powerful and almighty king Gilgamesh!”

The women were clinging to his skirts, their hands pawing at the laughing man. He laughed with them, running his hands over their shoulders and down their backs. The women were beautiful, she couldn’t blame him for doing that. In his position, she probably would have done the same, taking no time to pull one close just as he did now, pressing his lips to theirs.

Siduri was grumbling nearby.

The clay being was gone for the night, off to the temples for a tumbling in the bedsheets. The being had caught sight of new women being brought to the kingdom and had decided to take a few for a ride while the king enjoyed the innocence of a few women. He had two new wives, after all.

There were small footsteps coming behind her.

Hakuno grabbed the little girl before she rushed into the room, pulling her back.

“Ummum!”

“Shhhh, the king is busy.”

The girl’s eyes drifted over to the man, frowning as he moved from one woman to another, all but shoving the woman he’d been kissing aside.

“Come along. You should be in bed. We’re going to be training tomorrow, remember?”

She had to pull the girl alongside her, getting away before anyone would notice the blonde roots in the girl’s hair. They couldn’t risk too much, considering that she had been cast aside because she was incapable of doing what was needed for a wife.

“Ummum,” the girl murmured again.

“We’re going to bed,” Hakuno murmured again. “What happened to the hair pigment I put in your hair?”

The girl looked down, hesitating a bit before she shook her head.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I just…” The girl pulled her hair into her hands, staring at the length of muddy brown with her lip curled. “Can we stop doing that? No one else does it.”

“We’ll think about it after both of us finish training.”

The two of them were progressing well, especially her baby girl. It had been only half a year now. She had needed to hide the girl away from the king for seven years now, returning quietly to the palace and simply bowing her head and requesting for the magic training for herself while the king was drunk.

It had been an awkward night, one she had been able to manage only because of a slip of the hand into the king’s drink.

She had given up on being important in the same way the king was important to her. She had focused on her baby. Her girl.

Aruru.

“Ummum,” Aruru looked up at her, red eyes gleaming quietly as she held her hair close. “Can I please talk to the king? Just for a minute? Two?”

“Then we will have to stop learning magic.”

The girl sighed, lowering her hands. She shook her head, moving back towards their room. It was away from the others for a reason, placed near a couple of the storage rooms that Hakuno had found upon her return.

No one had batted an eye at her. Siduri had smiled and welcomed her back quietly, allowing her to have some bolts of fabric.

The fabrics had made a splendid set of robes for Aruru. She had adorned the girl quietly in some jewelry she had, gifts from the king. They suited Aruru far more than they did her and Aruru had glowed the moment she had decided to dress her up.

Even now, scooting to their bedroom door and going inside the room, Aruru seemed much more comfortable than she had ever been in the inn she had worked in before. The girl had been an endless sobbing mess from the moment she had been born. Much like the king, she had needed things to be her way. She had needed her creature comforts and her valuables.

Now that she had them, she looked for something that she could not give: a father figure.

“Did you practice the plant revival practices that we learned yesterday, Aruru?” Hakuno asked, closing the door to the room and watching Aruru climbing into their bed.

“Yes, ummum.”

“And?”

“The flowers are in the vase in the corner.”

She delved back under the covers, covering her head in the blankets.

Sure enough, her blooms were bright and bold in the corner, gleaming and humming with energy. It was exciting to see how she was improving, becoming more and more comfortable with the mage that she was. Soon she would be able to do so much more. They both would.

“You aren’t missing anything,” Hakuno told her. “The king is selfish. You have seen him with many possible ummums.”

“I know…”

Hakuno stroked the girl’s back, watching the little one poke her head out from the covers.

“…I don’t mean to ask so much, ummum.”

“You do, but I understand why. We’ll leave right after we finish learning. We’ll go on an adventure, I promise.”

Aruru looked around a moment before she gave a small pout. “…Can I just… just for tonight! Can I take this pigment out of my hair and have you braid it like when I was little?”

“You’re still little!”

“Please? Please please please?!”

Hakuno sighed, nodding.

The moment it was done, the girl had her set of portals open, moving the water basin in the corner over to them and all but dunking her head into the basin. She had the color out in record time.

Eager as ever, obviously. Hakuno shook her head, setting the basin on the floor nearby and using a simple spurt of energy to get the strands of hair dry. She took the length into hand, beginning from the top.

“I love when you do my hair,” Aruru told her.

“I know you do.”

“I like it here too. I like the food and the decorations and the gardens!”

“I know.” Hakuno laughed a little. “I’m aware. You tell me that every day.”

“Nuh uh!”

She was right. She told her that multiple times every day. There was no use in pointing that out either, knowing the girl would just argue and take her in verbal circles until they both grew tired. She had a way of making her want to agree as well.

She would be a strong adult.

“Ummum?” Aruru looked over her shoulder as she made it to the end of the braid, tying it into place with a bit of ribbon.

“Yes, Aruru?”

“Ki merangen.”

Hakuno smiled, pressing her lips to the girl’s forehead. “I love you too, Aruru.”

She turned pink, shuffling in the blankets a bit before she launched herself at her. They both fell to the cushions, laughing a little as Aruru snuggled against her chest.

“I’m the best princess in the whole universe, aren’t I?”

“You are my princess,” Hakuno told her simply, earning a large, childish smile like her father’s own.

“I am the best. I’ll be the strongest magician soon too… but it’s okay because I’ll make sure to let you assist me.”

“Ah, in that case-“ Hakuno pressed her lips to the girls cheeks, drowning her in a smothering of kisses that had her squealing and waving her arms in embarrassment.

“UMMUM! UMMUM! TOO MUCH! TOO MUCH!”

“I have to make sure my princess magician knows that she is loved, don’t I?” Hakuno pointed out. “That means lots of attention.”

Those red eyes gleamed, only for a moment. Then she delved beneath the sheets, trying to escape.

The little fool.

“We need to sleep,” Hakuno pointed out again.

“One story.”

She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips.

It was never just one story.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Shiitake Happens || Morgan & Deirdre

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: Morgan & Deirdre’s house

PARTIES: @deathduty @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Deirdre comes home after a party, but not in the way Morgan expects.

Under the bright lights of the murder shed, Morgan gleamed with delight. This version of the piece was coming out much better than anything she’d sketched out or tried before. The wooden foundation Ricky had helped make allowed her to fill the base with flowers and twigs, something that would look for a perfect, mushroom-free Samhain celebration. She had fastened a bit of black tourmaline to the center piece, a geometric sculpture made from tiny animal leg and finger bones that seemed to cradle the crystal as if it was sacred. Tiny chipmunk spines wove out from the sculpture and looped around the floral, autumn base. There were plaster bits marking where Morgan wanted more bones, or maybe a crystal, but this coronet was actually living up to her expectations.

Morgan checked the time and scooped up the coronet, jogging through the backyard and into the kitchen. Everything was fine. She had checked her calendar and messaged Debbie, as far as anyone could figure, everything was fine and Deirdre was probably doing...whatever she did to kill people fate had ordained, or at least witness their deaths. And she was so bad at technology sometimes, maybe she didn’t even realize she’d sent a half message and signed off. As soon as she was home, Morgan would just tell her, and it would all be some stupid, sad accident. And she would come home. Deirdre always came home when she said she would.

Moira was waiting for Morgan at the back door, mewling in welcome and giving her leg rubs before jumping to the counter to sniff around the new toy in her environment (because obviously anything new in the house was a toy to Moira). “No, no, darling, not for you!” She cooed, scooping the kitten up and cradling her as she swayed to a song in her head. “You can have all the catnip in the whole wide world, but that prototype is for your other mommy.” And just in time, a pair of headlights flashed up the drive. Morgan bounced with excitement and rushed to the stove, heating up the dinner she’d made too early in the day to pass the time. There wasn’t much occasion to be doing anything special, but with all distress around them, Morgan felt right about doing something special for her love, and it was always the most impressive, and the easiest, when it was a surprise.

Deirdre drove her car into the garage door. It was fine, she assumed, because as she rolled out of her car she noticed the dent was oddly mushroom-shaped, and everything was better if it was mushroom-shaped. She had been fighting it for so long, and when she suddenly couldn’t anymore, the revelation came to her with stark clarity: fairy rings were fate-sent opportunities. And who was she to deny the will of fate? Deirdre rolled again, tumbling over on the yard, laughing as she laid on the cool grass. She imagined she could’ve slept there, but she wanted inside her house to do away with her pesky clothes. And so she continued to roll and hop and skip to the front door, where she laughed at her silly hands as they fumbled with her keys and flopped onto the floor as soon as she managed to get the door open. The floor was cool and inviting and she could’ve slept there too if not for the burning desire to see Morgan again---a desire that ultimately proved more powerful than the allure of parties and dancing. But Morgan didn’t like the mushrooms, and even in her state, Deirdre wanted Morgan to be happy. She took great care to seem as normal--boring--as she could. “Taxes!” She yelled, picking herself off the ground and dusting off. “I just adore maths! I’m very into numbers!” Deirdre tiptoed closer to the smell of food, stifling her giggles as the hardwood creaked under her; it always did sound a little like farting, and that was funny. “I’m home, Mushr--Morgshroo--Morgue!”

Looking back, the sound of the garage door crunching under metal should’ve been the first sign that everything was going to fall apart. But in the moment Morgan had suspected, well, literally anything else. She reached for a kitchen knife, she started backing away from the windows, calculating how long it would take her to get to her iron rod, to the armory, where Deirdre might be, because Deirdre didn’t crash cars, Deirdre loved her ashton martin, as much as she loved anything material at least. She didn’t recognize the sounds floating through the door, and when she heard the keys fumbling, Deirdre’s keys, Morgan gave a desperate, animal prayer in her heart of no, please no, please don’t do this. But the woman crashed to the floor, dirty and tangled with the mess of nature, and spoke to her with Deirdre’s voice.

For what seemed like a long time, Morgan couldn’t find the will to speak. It wasn’t supposed to get bad until October. That’s what Deirdre had said. October, a month away, and maybe even more if they could be careful and vigilant and smart-- but here this woman was, so delirious on mushrooms she couldn’t even say Morgan’s name right, couldn’t stand on her feet without laughing at who only knew what. She saw the woman creeping towards the food, grilled eggplant, and some carrots and herbs in a buttery sauce. Morgan stepped aside so the woman could get to it without brushing past her. “Hello,” she said at last, the air all gone out of her voice. “D-dinner’s...almost ready. If you’d like to sit somewhere.”

Didn’t Morgan usually greet her with more enthusiasm? Well, Deirdre couldn’t tell. It was so hard to read the expressions on non-mushrooms anyway. She leaned into the pan, nearly dunking her face into the sauce as she tumbled to get a better smell. “Smells good!” She grinned, snapping up in another abrupt movement. She turned her head to smile at Morgan but her eyes couldn’t focus on her for long without trailing away in search for more interesting sights--snapping back sporadically as she continually came to the conclusion that Morgan was the most interesting sight. But she didn’t look mad, which was good. Her acting must have been good. Now she just had to keep it up. Her face scrunched as she thought of what other boring things she could talk about. “I like seats and sitting. That sounds fun. I’ll do that.” And then she dropped to the floor, crossing her legs and smiling up at Morgan. “Look, I’m sitting.” This was normal and boring, right? “Did you have fun today? Because I had lots of fun. I did so much danc--uh, taxes. I did so much taxes. Many taxes? What’s the right word?” She snapped her fingers, tongue out, trying to think. She spent so much time trying to think through her fog that she almost missed Moira pawing at her. “Mushroom!” She scooped the cat up, “you’re always naked, did you know that? What’s that like?” The cat squirmed free and Deirdre watched her leave without question. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it, and she almost didn’t care to.

Morgan continued to stare at the woman in her kitchen. The longer she stared, the more her vision went blurry and she could see the other version of this night spliced somewhere near the corner of her eye: the one where she and Deirdre were already kissing, where Morgan was prattling on about this lesson she’d cooked up for the fall semester and showing off the Samhain coronet she had started, placing it on her head with a kiss and taking too many pictures. Morgan watched the scene play out in her head while she waited for the woman in her kitchen to move, do something even approximate to what Deirdre would do. But it was just ‘taxes’ and ‘fun’, like she didn’t even know what it was that made Deirdre interesting or wonderful. But there she sat. At least Moira had the sense to slink off. “I had a nice day, yeah,” Morgan mumbled. Had. “You can tell me the truth, you know. You don’t have to keep saying ‘taxes’.” She added, taking one of the plates she’d set out and arranging the meal as nicely as she had the strength to. Fetched the flatware and the nice napkins and set it all down before the woman. Her smile was so bright, so much like the one Morgan wanted to see, she looked away and crossed the kitchen to busy herself with the sink. Deirdre wasn’t going to be able to do them tonight, so she might as well.

“I’m not lying! I never lie,” Deirdre’s stomach protested at her assertion, and her will to hide these reactions diminished with the hold the mushrooms dug into her. She stared at her food, stabbing it with her fork and reenacting the screams she imagined the vegetables were making quietly to herself. In reality, she wasn’t hungry, but she knew that boring people ate food. Then Morgan stepped around her and towards the sink, and Deirdre felt unsettled with something that ate at her core. She picked up her food and utensils, setting them aside on the counter. “I do that,” she said, watching Morgan with the dishes. “I do those.” She could remember just that much about it, motivations eluding her. She continued to stare; Morgan’s shape was vaguely like a mushroom. If those parts there were cut off, and her hair was fluffier, and if she was sticking out of the ground instead of in the middle of a cold and uncaring kitchen. She needed grass, Deirdre knew she’d be just right in the forest, among the flowers and mushrooms. “Are you mad at me?” She asked after a moment, picking at the t-shirt she stole off another party goer. “But I’m being boring for you. You like that, right? I’m doing what you want.”

“Yeah, I just um…” Morgan winced and went stiff over the sink. “I figured you wouldn’t be up to it tonight.” You know, because your soul got sacrificed to the mushroom gods and now I’m dealing with your toddler mushroom shadow self. She turned up the water and started scrubbing. It wasn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of the woman’s questions, but Morgan wished it was. Was she mad? It wasn’t like Deirdre could fully control herself even around the scent of these godforsaken mushrooms. They ruined her mood, her train of thought, even without being near them. “I’m not mad,” she rasped. “I um…” She grimaced, head bowed, and did her damnedest to smother the tears in her throat. “...Deirdre’s not boring. She is anything but boring and you should know that. And I can’t have what I want right now, so I think the next best thing is for you to just be yourself. Does that sound okay? ...Babe?”

“But that’s my job!” Deirdre raised her foot to stop down, hovering in the air as her tantrum died just as quick as it came. Instead, she watched her toes, wiggling them around, giggling as they moved so strange. Those were the very same toes that danced between blades of grass and weaved over gnomes and around leprechauns. Now they were wiggling in the air where she held them. She stopped listening to what Morgan was saying, choosing to hop around on her foot. The mushroom fog around her didn’t care much about love or relationships, it demanded fun and what was the most fun to her now was hopping. Until it very quickly wasn’t and then she searched their kitchen for other ways to entertain herself. “She is,” Deirdre responded coldly, inexplicably harsh. “She’s so whiny and stupid. Like a little baby. She cried so much before the ring, like she didn’t know how good it was. But that’s not me. This is me.” And this Deirdre wanted fun, or else she was going to go create some for herself. It was then she noticed a curious trinket against their clean marble counters. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands, eying the delicate bone work but not for the sake of appreciation, but to try and see if any of them might be shaped like a mushroom. None were. “What’s this?” She asked, but she had already put it on her head.  

Morgan dropped the dish she was holding. “She what?” But Morgan had heard the woman just fine. Deirdre had cried, fighting, because this wasn’t who she was or what she wanted to be, because this wasn’t what their life was supposed to be like, and because she did care about Morgan more than the fucking mushrooms that hijacked her brain and-- “Did someone make her get in? Was she forced?” Morgan turned around, clinging to the thought of Deirdre’s last lucid moments as if she could rewrite it into something different if she had enough details. “The real Deirdre is wonderful,” she said, voice hiccuping. “Of course you don’t understand-- no! Put that down!” Morgan ran for the bone crown and jumped to take it back. “It’s not done, it’s fragile, just put it down!”

“Yeah, she was all like ‘no please, I don’t want to go! I’m Deirdre and I’m a loser’ or, you know, whatever.” Deirdre spoke with indifference, running her fingers along the counter. She had just begun to drum them to a beat that’d been stuck in her head when she caught Morgan lunging at her and easily sidestepped with a giggle. That was it. That was the fun she had been looking for. “Aw! Look at your face! You look so scared it’s cute!” She laughed, light on her feet as she danced around. “If you want it,” her mouth cracked up into a challenging smirk, “you’ll have to chase me for it.” And that was exactly what she wanted, ducking around furniture and laughing all the while. She wanted a game, and she was going to make Morgan play one with her. “Come on,” she teased, taking the garment off to wave it around in the air. “Here, zombie. Here! Here!”

“No! No games!” Morgan cried, jumping for the crown again. “You give it back to me right now! I swear to the fucking stars--” Morgan didn’t finish that dangerous statement, but growled, teeth bared with frustration. “What the hell do you want? It’s not done, it’s not even for you!” Morgan clambered up the couch and launched herself from it in her chase.

“But you love games!” Deirdre laughed, swaying to soundless music. Morgan was angry, and that was suddenly very funny to her. The mushrooms told her all about the importance of mischief, and all she’d wanted in the moment was to share in it with Morgan. “But it’s mine now! So it’s all for m--” She hadn’t been expecting Morgan to come at her so quickly, and Deirdre spun in surprise, the piece slipping from her grip. Yet, even in her state, she could tell that was bad. She lunged at it, too clumsy with her movements to hold it properly in her hands again as it bounced between her fingers and palms as she scrambled to catch it. Eventually it settled in her grip, teetering dangerously just above the ground. “Oh,” she laughed, “that could have been bad! We don’t want to break this so soon, right, Morgshroom?”

Morgan stumbled to a halt when she saw the crown topple. For a flaming second, it did not matter what face the woman in front of her wore, she would snap her wrist wrestling the crown away if it came down to it. And she laughed, delighted, threatening, and careless. Morgan slumped where she stood. “Tell me something you want instead.” she said, eyes fixed on the spot where the crown had almost shattered. She could see the world splitting open again, the one where it cracked and broke, the one where she let her temper consume her and hurt what was left of the woman she loved, the one where they were having dinner in the great room with Moira begging for scraps between them. And here, this nothing space, with the woman Deirdre had been turned into laughing at her. Morgan grit her teeth. “Maybe, if I like it, hypothetically, you could get a deal.”

Deirdre considered this, tapping her chin and waving the crown around in her pinched fingers. She liked deals, and this game of chase was quickly becoming boring to her. “But you won’t marry me,” she said, mulling it over. She knew this because she asked last time, and Morgan wouldn’t do it. She knew this because something inside of her said it was true. It was the same something that was begging her to stop, but that she would not listen to because it was the part that was boring and that kept her away from the mushrooms in the first place. She wanted mischief and mayhem, not whatever idyllic domestic scene normally played out between her and Morgan. “Hm.” Deirdre looked at the crown, tapping it with her fingers and flicking the more delicate parts to test its resistance to her force. Then the world faded away and it was just her and this crown and its alluring fragility. She could snap it. She thought about that. She pressed it into her palm, hearing it splinter for her. She could throw it to the ground. She thought about that too, waving it around in the air again to test its weight. Now, suddenly, she was interested in a different game. “What would you do if I broke this?” She asked.

Morgan clenched her fists as her temper flared inside her again. Horrible things she could not do because Deirdre was going to come back into this body, with the body’s memories, and Deirdre hadn’t wanted to leave her in the first place. Morgan breathed through her teeth forcing them aside and trying to think of something better. “Well, I wouldn’t entertain any more of this nonsense, for a start.” Her voice ground out the word with all the others she wanted to say in its stead. “You want to lose the rest of your ‘fun’ here? Is that it?” Morgan trembled; she was no good at this and she knew it. “Just give it back to me. I’ll consider doing something else you want, just give it back.” She held out her hand. “Please.”

Deirdre watched Morgan with a callous gaze. Somewhere inside of her, she was begging too. But this wasn’t like the mushrooms before, these ones were angry. They wanted to create pain just as badly as they wanted pleasure. For a moment, annoyed that Morgan would stop her from having fun, she had to remind herself that she could find her games elsewhere. After all, she still wanted to see Morgan happy. “Why date a fae if you’ll reject the mushrooms so cruelly? This is very important to me.” Deirdre stepped closer, gripping the crown tight--sure enough that if Morgan tried to snatch it back, it would snap in twain. “This is very important to the culture. The mushrooms are like...whatever you humans do. I don’t know. I do know that you’re being really mean right now.” If she had enough sense, she’d realize how ironic she sounded. Deirdre stepped closer again. “I just want some fun, Morgshroom. That’s all. I want us to have fun. I love you and I want that.”

“Deirdre said she didn’t like the mushrooms,” Morgan whispered. “And you said she didn’t want this to happen to her. It can’t be that important...you can’t say it's more important than, what, being her whole self? A sense of sanity?” She shrugged helplessly. “I’m not even human, thanks. And I guess I just...yeah. Fine. I didn’t expect to see you tonight and maybe I was dumb enough to hope that I wouldn’t have to see you again at all. Fuck me. I’m a horrible, stupid person.” She folded her arms over herself and finally forced herself to look up into the woman’s eyes. She cringed inwardly at the mention of love coming from her but made herself ask the question even as her voice cracked and choked. “What...kind of...fun?”

“Oh, I mean, you’re practically human,” Deirdre shrugged right back, slumping as Morgan continued. “Stop. Don’t say that.” Her voice turned sharp. “Don’t say that about yourself.” And then it eroded away into urgent gentleness. “Please don’t say that. You’re not dumb. You’re not horrible. I love you. Don’t say that.” The mushrooms wanted mischief, they wanted malice, they wanted--- “Please?” Deirdre slipped the crown on to her head---for safekeeping---and leaned in to peck Morgan on hers. “Look! We’ll play a different game! Don’t be sad!” She gripped Morgan’s cheeks and pinched them as hard as she could, forcing her mouth up into a smile. “Lookie! We’ll have so much fun!” Then she took a large, sweeping step backwards and pulled the crown off her head. “Let’s play catch!” And then, with as much warning as she didn’t think to muster, she threw the garment into the air--more or less in Morgan’s direction, but her sense of space was warped.

Morgan’s tears fell past whatever self control she had left as the woman’s voice turned gentle. It was the kind of voice Deirdre would use, the kind of urging she would give to her if she was desperate enough when Morgan was down in her pit. Morgan couldn’t help but scrutinize her face with uncanny wonder. She knew the truth, that it was hopeless until the mushroom drug wore off, that she was kidding herself if she thought the woman she missed could surface for a moment to comfort her. And yet-- The woman’s fingers pinched her skin and Morgan shrank away. It was just a fucking coincidence, and she was just really fucking sad.

And  then the crown was flying in the air. “No!” Morgan ran backwards, tripping over her feet to get to it in time. The bone coronet grazed her fingers and she fumbled it into her grasp as she hit the floor, closing her eyes with a moment's relief when its full, unbroken weight settled against her chest. The prototype was fine and, eventually, she would be too.

Deirdre hated watching people cry. It made her chest tight and something in her stomach flip uncomfortably. Watching Morgan cry though, was far worse. She ached with every piece of herself and she didn’t know why. Now she was desperate to show her a good time. She had to. Morgan needed to be happy, this was as universal a truth as ‘mushroom good’ and ‘nudity also good’. “Good catch!” She jumped up and clapped, then began gesturing for her to throw it back. “Now me!”

Morgan got to her feet, slowly and painfully, even with her body’s invulnerability. “No,” she grumbled. “Something else, okay? I’m going to put this somewhere safe. When I’m done we can toss other fragile or sharp things around the house even if it is a health hazard.” She went to the safe behind the painting and climbed onto the chair beneath it so she could reach without straining herself. “Or maybe hide and seek, if you go find somewhere to be...now?” She prompted, gesturing with the crown for her to run along. She wasn’t keen on the mushroom woman having a clue about where the precious things in the house were, even if they were just letters and one sad, stupid bone piece.  

But among watching people cry, watching them refuse to play was also gut wrenching to Deirdre, though in a much different way. It wasn't a profound sadness that claimed her, but a complex anger. And then she watched Morgan move towards her safe. "That's where I keep my stuff," she said, as if trying to recall it for herself. "I have to keep it there so no one can find it." She moved towards the zombie. That safe carried her most delicate treasure; the torn and burnt letter Morgan had written her. The letter was too frail to be rustled around, even when Deirdre came back to her safe every so often to re-read the letters. "The last time someone found out about it, they hurt me." And she watched Morgan, with great disregard to Deirdre's tiny treasures, think about opening her safe without double-checking anyone was watching, without seeing if there were tiny cameras fitting into the bone of her crown. Did she just want it there to hurt Deirdre again? Logic and reason came to Deirdre strangely now, and she considered that even someone who loved her like Morgan was subject to harming her. "No!" And so she lunged, gripping the other half of the crown. "You don't get to go in there! That's mine! Why can't we have fun?"

“Someone hurt Deirdre, I know,” Morgan said soberly. “But I am not her mother. And I am only interested in keeping this safe until the real Deirdre comes back.” She waited for something to sink in, for the woman to get distracted by something shiny. She had only just come back from the mushrooms, she couldn’t possibly remember the combination. If Morgan could just slip the crown in fast enough. “Hey!” Morgan tugged back. “Deirdre gave me the code, she knows I have a right to be there!” She pulled again, with both hands now to support the fragile piece. “Please, just let me put it away. We can do something else, I’ll do something else with you! I’ll do it!”

"I am Deirdre!" She screeched, cracking what few glass valuables Deirdre trusted to keep around them. "Why do you keep saying it like I'm not! That's me! You just don't like me, do you? You don't like fun! You're a human!" The word dribbled out of her with venom and pain. She didn't quite understand it, she didn't understand much like this, but all she could see was a woman who was supposed to love her, hurting her. "You don't have any right! Those are my things! Morgan gave me those! And if you can say I'm not Deirdre, then I can say you're not Morgan!" And for all this mushroom addled Deirdre knew, it could have been some very convincing clone she was talking to. That would explain why Morgan was being so mean to her. She wasn't even this mean last time. "It's like you care about this crown thing more than me," she sobbed, then tugged. She could break it. Deirdre thought about that until it twisted itself into an intoxicating prospect. Breaking things was fun, right? And yet, her body resisted the action. She gripped the piece tighter, using both her hands. Now if either of them tugged too hard, the thing would shatter. "You're being very disrespectful to the mushrooms right now and they don't deserve that. They think I'm the real Deirdre. They would never do this to me. They're kind and inviting and if you'd stop being such a meanie for two seconds and come with me to a fairy ring then you'd know—but no, you want to be a real H-word instead."

Morgan went stiff as tiny cracks ripped throughout the room. Her eyes flickered around the room, assessing the damage. The bone skeleton had a shiny new skull fracture, the snowglobe she’d commissioned from Nic was too far away to show any obvious damage, but not leaking was a good sign. “Sshh! You don’t have to do that,” she whispered. She let go and climbed down from the chair, backing away, her hands raised in surrender. “Look, it’s yours now, okay? You have it. And we c-can...do something. Fun.” None of her words were especially convincing. Her insides were coiled up with fear that the woman would destroy their home if she was upset enough, her eyes were stinging as she called her a human, a distinction she was growing to resent even before she said the word like it was the worst thing she could think of. But Morgan tried to force her mouth into a smile, an effort that only lasted for a second and felt morbidly inappropropriate, and hoped for the best.

Finally, Deirdre had it. She raised the crown to imagined fanfare, dancing around the great room and singing an ode to mushrooms in Gaelic (that went more or less "mushrooms are great, mushrooms are good"). Yet, Morgan didn't seem as happy. Deirdre watched her, halting her steps. And then, dancing around with the crown didn't seem all so interesting anymore. She glanced at its design work, delicate but obviously hand-made. It was unremarkable, because it didn't have any mushrooms. The only thing she could think to call it was junk. Why would Morgan be lugging a piece of junk around? If Deirdre had enough sense to think on it, she might have figured it out, but she didn't. "You know what, Morgshroom?" She glanced up, letting silence consume the room. The clock's incessant ticking remained the only relic of the passage of time between them. "I think I'm bored now." And she tossed the crown behind her, shattering it against the hardwood. She skipped merrily away from the scene, looking for the next grand mushroomless venture the two could partake in (she just had so much trouble thinking about ways to have fun with the mushroom-phobic Morgan).

All the sense of time and probability Morgan had lacked when the woman first came home caught up to her now, two late. It was only five seconds of silence and in that time, Morgan felt it with the same crushing certainty she’d felt her mother’s punishments. There was nothing to do, no one to call for help. She closed her eyes before the woman even threw the crown to the ground. She did not open them again until the snap of it shattering had stopped echoing in her head. The woman was long gone by then. She could pick up  all the separated vertebrae and the snapped ribs and crushed flower buds in her own good time, pausing to stare and cry as much as she needed before taking the mess she’d cradled into her skirt and creeping upstairs to hide.

Finding cans of paint in the garage, Deirdre skipped back into the great room; idea in mind. "Morgshroom!" She called out, dropping the cans of paint to the floor. "I finally figured out how we can have fun!" But she got no response. She looked around the room, trying to find the woman. When she couldn't, she started looking under furniture and out the windows. "Morgan?" She lifted the table, wondering if she was there. She turned to the kitchen, opening up cabinets and drawers. "Morgan?" She crawled up the stairs, searching around corners and cracks. Finally, Deirdre started to grow concerned. Her concern created a moment of clarity, a moment she used to bring herself to their bedroom, hovering awkwardly at the door. "Morgan?" She asked the trembling figure on their bed. "Are you okay?"

Morgan had just enough energy to arrange the pillows in a vaguely Deirdre-body length and shape before crawling onto it, draping her arm around the middle and imagining that she was being held and comforted. It was a level of pathetic desperation she hadn’t reached in a long time, and her stomach twisted with guilt as she reminded herself this was just for a week. A week. Seven days, starting now, if she could pull herself together and stop sobbing like some little girl who’d had her dolly or her car keys taken away she could handle this. Seven days wasn’t that long at all, especially in the grand scheme of things. And it wasn’t like Morgan was still having nightmares. She didn’t need to be talked down from the ensuing panic attacks or distracted from her nerves. If this had to happen, why not now? Morgan continued to think, trying to rationalize herself out of her tears, but sobs continued to bubble up from her chest. No amount of fist clenching or logical thinking could distract her body enough to forget that Deirdre wasn’t here, and would not return no matter how she begged the stars until the mushroom toxins were out of her. The ground had vanished beneath her again and like a child who refused to listen, Morgan could never grasp that this was the true way of things.

She whimpered at the sound of the woman in the doorway and tried to wipe her face clean without getting up. “I’m….I’m fine,” she squeaked, her throat still soaked with tears. “I’m sorry.”

Morgan was in distress, and though Deirdre could only attribute this to her mushroom-hate, her desire to soothe her was no less strong. She inched closer to the bed. “Am I bad?” She asked, wondering for a moment if Morgan’s agony was her fault. No, she reminded herself, this was just what people who didn’t accept the mushrooms looked like. But that didn’t matter, all that mattered to her then was getting Morgan to stop crying. She sat at the edge of the bed, staring at their carpeting, lost in the pattern of the weaving. “Did I hurt you?” She looked to Morgan for the answer, then decided if she was crying, that was confirmation enough. Deirdre crawled beside her, slowly wrapping her arms around her quivering form. “Don’t be sorry. The mushrooms don’t like apologies anyway, not from you. You don’t have to.” Distantly, she remembered that Morgan liked a tight hold, and she pressed harder around her. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Morgan’s body broke open with another sob as the woman wrapped her arms around her. It was everything she wanted and it was all wrong. If Deirdre were really here, she wouldn’t be crying in the first place and there would hardly be a need for questions. But Morgan was so tired inside and in the dark, with that familiar voice gentle and reaching for her heart as it grazed her ear, she didn’t have the strength to push her away. Morgan clamped her arms over the woman’s and pawed around for her hand until she could lock their fingers together tight. She pulled the woman harder against her curling then both up like nested shells. Their bodies fit like they always had; Morgan could even hear the slow drum of the woman’s heart. “I know you’re just here. I know you didn’t do anything besides just be here. It's not your fault, but we— I was going to surprise you. We were going to be happy, and you didn’t even come home.” She swallowed down another sob, shivering. She brought one of the woman’s hands to her face and kissed her palm, squeezing it as tight as she dared. “I was awful, I know I was being awful, but I just want you back. Please come back to me...”

Deirdre opened her mouth to explain again that she was here, that she was home and that she didn’t understand what Morgan was crying about. She felt like a child again, holding up Danny’s dead lost dog and asking him why he was so mad at her about it. But she didn’t have the mushrooms then; the mushrooms made everything clear. And they would do the same for Morgan too. “Morgshroom...can you do something for me?” She asked softly, “take a bath. Really hot, like you like to. Then come down.” With the mushroom’s help, she would set this right. All she needed was some time. “Use bubbly soap, because you can kind of shape that into a mushroom and I know looking at some mushrooms will calm you down. It calms everyone down.” She squeezed Morgan tighter. “Okay? Can you do that, my shroom? My lovely fungus?”  

Of course it had been stupid to speak to the woman as if she was really Deirdre, but it had almost been like relief for Morgan, with the pressure of her body just right and their forms twisted around each other in the way they’d memorized. Even the suggestion of a bath wasn’t a bad one. The real Deirdre would get in with her and they would soak and read the poetry book they kept by the tub if they weren’t up to other means of passing the intimate time together. But that didn’t make it a bad idea. A little burn on her skin, a few minutes submerged head to foot with everything wet and quiet… When nothing else helped, the water was always ready to hold Morgan until she was ready to surface again. Morgan deflated, releasing her hold on the last trickle of tears she was holding in. “Okay,” Morgan whispered faintly, relaxing her grip and turning around to huddle against the woman’s body. “Okay. I can try to do that.”

Deirdre had been occupied with picking Morgan’s tears with her fingers and trying to paint mushrooms on to their sheets with it when she heard her agree. “Huh?” She perked up with confusion, forgetting the suggestion she put forth. “Oh, right! Okay, so you go do that.” Deirdre picked Morgan up, running her to their bathroom with urgency--the more time she spent carrying Morgan, the less time she would have to prepare for the mushrooms. She dropped her carefully into their ornate tub, pressing a kiss to her forehead before she skipped away with the same speed she’d come in with. The mushrooms would solve this. The mushrooms would make Morgan happy.

Time was a strange construct, Deirdre wasn’t sure how much of it she’d spent pushing furniture around into a circle (it had to be a ring), painting red mushrooms on the walls (there had to be mushrooms), lighting candles and setting the right music to play after much fumbling with a speaker she didn’t know how to use (all equally important to what needed to be done). She could not bring Morgan to the fairy ring, but she could bring the fairy ring to Morgan. She would not go so far as to pluck mushrooms from their homes to supply in her mission, but she pulled from their garden to weave Morgan a flower crown better than the dumb one she seemed so obsessed with. And while it lacked the intricate bone work, Deirdre took one of her raven skulls and affixed it to the front. Good enough, she thought, and certainly better than the other thing. At least it was to her mushroom brain. Deirdre had even gone so far as to change into one of her old dresses from Ireland, a piece meant for the traditional summer celebrations, now worn to keep a modesty she didn’t exactly care about, but hoped Morgan, in all her foolish mushroom hating, would enjoy. Now all that was left to do was spin around their great room, moving in tune with the gentle music and watching as the light fabric of her dress swished around. It was all the glory of a fairy ring without the fairy ring part, which wasn’t all the glorious. But it would be enough.

Morgan stayed in the tub for over an hour, until the last sensation of the water’s heat faded and she’d worked her soap and bubbles down to the quick. Nothing had changed, but she at least felt like herself enough to come downstairs in her pajama shorts and shirt. There was nothing left to ruin and she could start on a new prototype tomorrow. She could talk to the woman and indulge her for a little while in the evening without biting her head off or falling to pieces. “Hey…” She called softly. “I’m all scrubbed clean if you wanted to negotiate doing—oh, stars above.”

The mushroom paintings were hideous, but strangely they were the least striking image in the whole room. There was the furniture for one thing, rearranged and piled into a giant circle. Then the candles, strewn around so thickly, Morgan was reminded of the romantic paintings she’d ogled as a girl. And the woman, dressed in gauze and summer, beaming and excited by the playlist she’d started from Morgan’s digital library. It was even playing her favorite song. Morgan swept her eyes over one more time, trying to catch it all and make sense of it. It wasn’t their home, their room, but there was something careful in it, even beautiful.  “I don’t understand,” she said, looking to the woman for answers as she came closer. “What’s all this…?”

Deirdre spotted Morgan, flashing her a brilliant smile as she paused her dancing. “Come,” she urged her, giggling as she approached. She placed the flower crown atop her head quickly, eager to begin with their makeshift fairy ring night. “Wait--wait. I wrote this down.” Deirdre glanced at the smudged writing on her hands, having prepared a good speech while she waited patiently. “Dear Morgshroom, I know you are---” But the writing was sloppy and, with all her dancing and furniture rearranging, very smeared. “---’dad’. But I think you’re very ‘birdful’. Anyways, here’s mushrooms. Love, ‘Doobie’.” Deirdre grinned, her--clearly very romantic--speech over. “I made you a fairy ring!” She exclaimed, explaining herself finally. “It’s not as good, and we can’t get married here, but I know it’ll make you feel better.” She grew very nervous suddenly, unable to find the same excitement about her plans. “Do you not like it?”

Morgan didn’t have any tears left in her, even for sentiment’s sake, but watching the woman take up a thoughtfully written letter for her and recite it surrounded by candlelight made her ache even in the harshest parts of her spirit. All of this was for her. The composition of the circle, the music, even the woman’s dress. And it was all so...very Deirdre, in a rudimentary way. Morgan couldn’t help but come closer to her, looking for an explanation hidden behind her eyes or in the lines of her palm.

“I like it fine. It’s lovely, even,” she said. But that wasn’t what she wanted to talk about. There was something uncanny even in the woman’s smile, familiar, frightening, and irresistible.  “Are you—” She reached out for the woman’s face, her fingers glossing over the air just above. “Are you really in there somewhere, Deirdre?” Morgan stepped closer, awed and afraid by either answer, by the hope rising in her throat. “Did you...remember us, when you did this?”

Well, at least Morgan wasn’t crying. That was all Deirdre could’ve wanted really. It wasn’t the excitement she was expecting, or the convincing she thought would push Morgan into agreeing to come to the mushrooms---but it was good. “Hm?” Deirdre smiled, breaching the space that Morgan was afraid to. She closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around Morgan’s waist. “We can dance slowly, if you want. It’s better like this sometimes. Not so much for real fairy rings, because that’s boring, but for this one that’s okay.” The music was a little too jovial for their swaying, but Deirdre hummed her own slow tune instead. “I’m always in here,” she said, looking at Morgan curiously. “I don’t get what you mean when you say that. I’m always me, except sometimes I’m the boring me. And I always remember us. That’s why I want you to marry me.” But she paused for a moment, deeply considering what Morgan was saying. “But it’s only a week, my heart. And then it’ll be better. Will you wait for me?” The moment was gone just and quick as it’d come and Deirdre began tugging at Morgan’s shirt, petulant but far from demanding. “Oh! You’re supposed to be naked! That’s what makes it a good fairy ring.”

The woman moved into her arms and suddenly Morgan’s hands were grazing her cheek on accident and her arms were around her shoulders and under the musk of the woods she could smell Deirdre, earthy, crisp, and sweet as a cherry tree. Fainter now, like the scent was hiding in a shallow grave. “I’d like a slow dance kind of fairy ring, yeah,” Morgan murmured, stepping closer and settling into the private rhythm the woman was setting for them. She smirked in spite of herself as the song changed and a slower one she cherished almost fit their secret dance perfectly. Some things fit even when they shouldn’t, like their bodies, with so many inches between their height it annoyed Morgan some days. But she could rest her head so easily against her chest and hear that low heartbeat that lulled her into calm during the night.

“You’re different right now…” Morgan whispered. “You’re so different you don’t even like who you usually are, and that’s my favorite person…” She gave the woman’s body a squeeze. The closer they were, the more easily she could trick herself into believing everything would be alright. “But you’re really...you’re a little here, Deirdre?” She spoke her name as a supplication unto itself and pressed her lips to her shoulder, waiting out the silence as the woman thought. “Oh, my love, my pulse…” She nodded fervently; rising on her tiptoes to whisper in her ear. “I’ll wait for you. I love you. Please... oh!” She stumbled onto Deirdre’s foot, thrown off course as she pulled on her. “Right. Um...for you, for our ring, I guess I go topless, at least. But you’re wearing a dress, I’d like to add, even if I can practically see through it.” She pulled off her shirt in one fluid movement and offered a smile, small and tentative but no less sincere as she kept her eyes on this other Deirdre, still searching, reaching for the parts she knew.

“I never like who I usually am. Except for this me; this me is always happy.” Deirdre commented absently. The mushrooms did not allow for pain or question, with them, a simple life was always guaranteed. For so long, it was her only way to connect with the fae who would otherwise shun her for her flatback. But she couldn’t explain any of this to Morgan, any of how important the rings were to the fae, she didn’t like them. And if she’d already decided to hate, then there was no point to argue. Besides, Deirdre didn’t much like wasting her time on anything that wasn’t being naked or dancing. “Well that’s just because there’s supposed to be other layers under it, but I didn’t want to wear them--obvs.” But she delighted in the sight of Morgan’s top coming off, not only because the naked sight of Morgan always delighted her, but because nudity was the way of the fae. “Yay! Boobs!” She scrambled to take her dress off, pulling and kicking it off until she was fully nude. “Now the party can start!” She reached for Morgan again, pulling her close until the were flush together. The best way to enjoy nudity was together, that as something the mushrooms had told her once. But more so, it was something she knew to be true because of Morgan, and how happy she made her feel. She was like her own fairy ring; she didn’t need to be a mushroom to set Deirdre’s heart aglow. “I’m always here,” she whispered, before losing her train of thought to how happy she felt. “You’re magic, you know that? You like a real mushroom, and just almost as pretty as one. I wish you liked the rings more, because I want to show you what’s so wonderful about them, but I can take this for now.”  

Morgan pressed a chain of kisses around the Mushroom Deirdre’s neck, weaving her way upward to her jaw. She wasn’t sure how fae it was of her, but the skin under her lips was so familiar, it made Mushroom Deirdre’s whisper sink and settle inside her. “Give me a week, babe,” she said. “Stay with me a week and then we’ll see. Wait with me til then.”

[luci-cunt]

Pad Thai / Fuck Off

[ @moonsandstarsaregay​ I’m sorry this took so long but tada! here’s your ficlet, just a lil mini from Carter’s POV. WARNING: RAVENSONG SPOILERS! but just barely :D <3333333

This is Homesong canon btw so it’s not exactly like the actual books.... there’s a bit of a..... twist >:3 you can also read it on AO3!

Enjoy!!!]

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

Contrary to the apparently popular belief, Carter did actually take his position as mayor seriously. 

So jot that one down, Joe.

If he didn’t he might actually get more sleep in his actual bed, but as it was it felt like he spent most nights slumped over the desk in his office. Well, that was actually only part of it, and most nights Carter had the forethought to move to the couch by the door. In all honesty he didn’t mind sleeping at the office, in fact he did it regularly because he didn’t mind it. 

Living in the same house with your mom and your brother and your brother’s boyfriend and the weird wolf that won’t stop following you around is--shockingly--not all peaches and cream. Besides, his office was sick, the couch was the most comfortable thing he’d ever owned and he had an entire wall of windows he usually kept all the way open so he could pretend like he was outside. 

Sometimes he missed living on his own--how it had been when he was in college--but that hadn’t exactly been alone, which was the problem. Carter couldn’t stand the idea of living completely alone, even just moving in with his roommate--a guy named Joshi--had been like getting dunked in ice water after living with his family--his pack--for his whole life. 

But even that he was sure he could get used to, no--that wasn’t the real reason why he refused to get his own place. 

Before he hadn’t quite been able to pin down why it had felt so weird to think of moving out, and then it had hit him when Kelly moved. 

He didn’t have a mate. 

Both his brothers and his Uncle had all lived in the house until they found their mates. Technically Joe was still living in the Bennett house but he’d moved in with Ox first and then moved back in to leave the house to Kelly and Robbie later. Even Mark hadn’t left until Gordo finally let him move in. 

Carter just... didn’t have that. 

Instead he had his office, and the wolf that wouldn’t leave him alone. 

Speaking of… 

“Get your fucking nose out of there,” Carter snapped, kicking the mini-fridge door closed to stop the wolf from eating the thai-food leftovers he was saving for lunch. The wolf growled at him, nosing it open again so that Carter had to stop what he was typing on his laptop to hold the door closed with his foot. “I said cut it out, peanuts make you gassy as hell and I’m not dealing with that,” he said. They stared each other down for a moment, and Carter held up a finger. “You get in there and I’m kicking you out.”

The wolf huffed a breath like a laugh and then used his paw to shove Carter’s foot away. “Fucking cunt--” Carter said as he left his desk to tackle the wolf. They rolled over the fancy rug that had been a gift from some official Carter couldn’t remember the name of, both snarling and growling at one another loud enough that Cynthia--Carter’s secretary--could probably hear them. He could imagine her rolling her eyes and turning up her radio in the room next to him, but she was more than used to this by now. 

Eventually Carter managed to get a grip on the wolf’s middle and he shoved him into the couch, scrambling over and planting himself down in front of the fridge. The wolf jumped up, growling as he stalked over. 

“I told you to fuck off, and look--now instead of writing important emails I’m playing fridge guardian,” he said, scowling back at the wolf, who blew an annoyed breath out his nose into Carters face. “Wow, you’re so persuasive,” he mocked. 

There was a pause, and the wolf sat back and seemed to melt as it shifted, and then Gavin was sitting in front of him. His face scrunched in a pout and long, tangled black hair spilled over his shoulders. 

“Ass,” he said. Carter flipped him off. 

The first few times that Gavin had shifted out of the timberwolf Carter had thought he was being haunted. It started with little things, like books moved around and cups emptied when he swore he’d left them full. He hadn’t really thought much of it--maybe it was the stupid-white-person part of him but if his office was haunted that just made it so much cooler. 

Except then the things had gotten more noticable. If he fell asleep at his desk he’d wake up with one of the stupidly oversized couch cushions under his head, and the windows would open and close themselves while he was sleeping. He’d first suspected Cynthia, but she’d just given him a weird look when he brought it up. 

He didn’t catch on until one day when a bat flew into his windows and woke him out of a dead sleep and he’d caught Gavin before he could shift back. After that he was still reluctant to shift out of the wolf, but he’d stopped doing it in secret when Carter promised not to tell anyone he’d seen it. 

He didn’t actually talk to Carter until about a month after he started shifting out enough that Carter kept a spare pair of sweatpants at the office. He spoke oddly, like he’d never actually been taught how to. It had taken some getting used to but now Carter hardly noticed. 

“Not wolf,” Gavin said, pointing to himself and then the fridge. 

“Yeah well, I lied, I just don’t want you eating it because it’s mine,” Carter said, making Gavin’s scowl deepen. 

“Hungry.” 

“We literally just ate.”

Gavin shook his head in frustration. “Stupid ass,” he said.

“Right, because you’re a real Einstein,” Carter said, he pushed himself up enough to grab the sweats out of a drawer in his desk and toss them over. “And put some pants on--” 

Gavin rolled his eyes, mockingly quoting, “Man of position, blah blah,” as he did. 

“I’m the mayor, naked people in my office is frowned upon,” Carter said. “And not nearly as hot as it could be--you should grow tits.” 

Gavin flipped him off but pulled on the pants and laid on his back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment Carter leaned his head back so it bumped against the fridge. 

“You still haven’t given me an answer, you’re like a fuckin’ fortune cookie written by a beetle.” 

Gavin wrinkled his nose. “Bugs are not good,” he said.

“Thank you for that wonderfully insightful answer, give me four to seven business days to process it properly and get back to you o-wise one.” Gavin pushed himself up so he could glare properly, Carter squinted at him. “You know what you are?” 

“No, please--tell,” he said flatly.

“An STD,” Carter said, leaning back again. “You just won’t go away.” 

Gavin frowned and shrugged like he did when he didn’t understand something. 

“A disease you get from fucking,” Carter explained. 

“So you had fun getting me?” Gavin said, with a grin. 

Carter rolled his eyes. “You were trying to kill us, I almost killed you.” 

“Yeah,” Gavin agreed, laying back down. Carter waited for him to explain more, but he didn’t. He breathed a laugh despite himself. 

“I think you’re the only one who manages to actually piss me off so much,” he said. 

“Lucky me.” 

“Beetle.”

“Man-baby.”

“Well that one’s new, where’d you get it?” 

“Mark.” 

“When were you hanging out with him?” 

“My business.” 

“Oh fuck off, like you give a damn about privacy.” 

“You are stupid, it’s different.” 

“No, actually it’s not--I managed to survive almost three decades before you showed up, I think I can make it a couple of hours without supervision.” 

“Wrong.” 

“Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve fucked anyone. Hard for that to happen when I’ve got the worlds biggest, dumbest ankle monitor glued to my leg at all times! No--you don’t get to look smug about that, your possessiveness is not cute in any world. Don’t shrug at me--I will skin you and use your pelt for aftercare.” 

Gavin growled at him, eyes flashing violet, but it wasn’t nearly as intimidating while he was human. Hell it wasn’t even that intimidating when he was a wolf. It was a little surprising when Gavin suddenly lunged at him, successfully knocking him over and sitting on his chest so he could rifle through the fridge. 

“Hey! I just said--god how the hell do you weigh so much get--off--fucking--!” He groaned and stopped struggling as he realized it was useless, Gavin grinned down at him and slurped noodles obnoxiously. 

“I cannot stand you.” 

“Yum,” Gavin said as he dropped a peanut on Carter’s face. Carter smacked his hand away, and then sobered a bit. 

“Are you actually ever going to explain anything? Because if you’re just going to keep being cryptic let me know so I can rub it in your face when you finally crack.” 

Gavin chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “No explanation,” he said, then he grinned. “My business.” 

Carter scowled, reaching up and flicking his forehead. “Ass,” he said. 

“STD,” Gavin corrected, already focusing back on the stolen pad thai. 

“At least tell me why you won’t shift in front of anyone else,” Carter said. Gavin’s jaw clenched, “You stole my lunch, you owe me,” Carter pointed out. 

“Hard,” Gavin said after a moment. “Too many things, easier to handle as the wolf,” he went on. “And, it’s bigger--better teeth.” He bared his teeth to prove his point and Carter rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, it’s way harder to rip out throats as an omnivore,” he said dryly. 

“You don’t like the wolf because I can drag you,” Gavin said with a laugh that made Carter roll his eyes. 

“You caught me,” he said, forcing himself to keep his mouth shut to keep the rest of his thoughts in his head. 

“Stupid,” Gavin said, smiling dopily. 

Carter opened his mouth to retort, but he and Gavin heard the sound of Kelly talking to Cynthia outside. Gavin dropped the box of pad thai and shifted before Carter could blink, and he scrambled up, growling and brushing noodles off the front of his shirt. 

“Fucking asshole,” he snapped, tossing the box at Gavin’s head. He just made a whining noise almost like a laugh and then jumped on the couch as Kelly opened this door while knocking. 

“I picked up a sandwich from Oasis, Robbie ate a few bites but--” Kelly cut himself off as his eyes landed on Carter, who was picking himself up off the ground and glaring down at his stained shirt. “Did you trip?” he asked, unsuccessfully hiding a laugh. 

Carter glared. “Something like that,” he bit out with a significant look towards the wolf on the couch, who was pretending to be sleeping. 

“Well, I’ve still got a few minutes of lunch--Tanner dragged Robbie back to the shop because apparently Gordo set the computer on fire, want me to grab you a shirt?” Kelly asked, still smirking.

“While you’re at it grab me a knife and a tanning rack,” Carter said. “Cynthia!” he called, and she poked her head in the doorway, one brow raised. She scanned the office and followed the trail of noodles from Carter’s shirt to the empty box on the floor by the couch and gave him a flat look. 

“You don’t pay me enough to clean up after you,” she deadpanned. 

“Fuck off,” he snapped, “Just get me a broom or something.” 

“That’s carpet,” Kelly said, dropping the tinfoil wrapped sandwich on Carter’s desk. 

“I didn’t ask you, did I?” 

“Your office is going to smell like peanuts for the rest of your life.” 

Cynthia wrinkled her nose and then wheeled away. 

Carter glared at Kelly. “Weren’t you getting me a shirt?” 

His brother laughed, already turning to leave. “Have fun scrubbing!” he called over his shoulder. 

“As soon as I’m done with this asshole I’m coming for your ass!” Carter snarled back. He turned to the wolf on the couch, who was watching him with one eye open. Carter jabbed a finger at him. “That’s not an empty threat, if this shit doesn’t come out you’re the replacement carpet.”

Gavin just closed his eye and curled up more. 

It made Carter wish he could actually follow through on his threats.

[afterthelastreset]

Rules Of One’s Soul Ch15 A Little Offer P5

(Mak belongs to @wasted-church )

The entirety of the cliffside home was oddly silent other than the furious sounds of scrubbing coming from the other side of the sheap. The outside had gotten slightly darker indicating it mustve been early night at least. The residents were sure feeling it. Seam especially as he relaxed back down into the old armchair, normally he hated water but after getting blasted by ashes he was happy to scrub it off. Took a while for his fur to dry though. Luckily no stitches came loose this time. As for Jevil and Rouxls-

The small gremlin was balancing on his tail watching the working worm with a crestfallen face. Seam could only shake his head and couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor fella. True his uh ....'help' had backfired but considering he was pretty rusty from being locked up for over one hundred years of his life, one couldn't judge him too harshly....Buuuut Rouxls wasn't one to let go easily. It had been proven before.

"Can I help,help?" Jevil gave a hopeful smile to the cleaning worm, who paused for a split second before harshly dunking the sponge he was using into a nearby bucket filled with sudsy water and continued as if he hadn't heard a thing. Making the foolishly hopeful smile from his face vanish a bit, but ever persistent, his tail leaned him forward to be closer to the worm's side where he tried seeing his face. "You shouldn't have to work, work so hard. Im sorry, sorry. So allow me to he-"

A quick snap of a heated glare from the duke silenced the jester into submission, his smile now silently small and he froze at the hatred radiating off him. It got smaller when Rouxls leaned onto his knees. Usually hed tower over Jevil but his current sitting position made for perfect eye level.

"Oh. THOU art sorry." A dry chuckle came from that angry being. "Good. For I amst sorry as well....Im sorry for ever letting mine guard down aground thee!"

Jevil flinched. Hard. And Seam continued to watch calmly from the comfort of the chair, but Kaard didnt care as he already turned his frustrations back to scrubbing the black blotches.

"Im sorry I ever met thee. Im sorry I canst be there for mine boy- He can't even sleep properly without a story let alone runneth an entire kingdom by himself. Imst stucketh cleaning homes likest some maid just to get decent food and all for what? For a smiling foolish worme to come crashing into thine-"

....He froze.....Something gently kneeding his shoulder...

"DON'T TOUCHE ME YOU PLAUGE ON MINE LIFE!!"

The tail that been holding up shot back the shocked body of the imp as a worm reared his full anger towards him for trying to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Why dont'st you doeth what thou doeseth best and playest games elsewhere?!"

With that the duke snapped back around to the floor ignoring any other sad look Jevil gave him. The jester slunk back even further from the duke- An ear perked at a soft chuckle he turned and found it came from the plush cat away from him.

"Your next play has been interesting to say the least. Are you ready to accept defeat old friend?" His smile widened as the small man pouted and promptly huffed at the audacity of the question.

"Absolutely not,not. I just-" Yellow orbs glanced back shakily to the worm for a split moment before back to the smiling cat. "...Need a new move,move to play."

He chuckled again. "Then may I offer some advice-"

"I can heareth everything thou art saying." Another annoyed glance was thrown over his shoulder.

A paw was held up in defence. "Now, now. I meant no harm but maybe its best Jevil leaves you alone right now."

The smaller man Took one last look to the worm before slowly starting towards the smiling cat. Seam ever so calm reached out and gave the sulking gremlin a pitty pat on the shoulder.

"I dont suppose you would like some tea to help ease the sting of rejection?"

A dark chuckle and smile. "The taste is bittersweet. But I would rather get sweet victory, victory.~"

Deep chuckles came from the cat as his one good eye watched the jester jump onto the couch next to himself, but somehow his forced frustrated grin still seemed to be sad there. It sorta made his cotton shiver with a pang of sorrow, but in a game it was best not to let his guard down too much. Jevil sat down on the couch next to Mak, who was fast asleep in a box filled with different things from gems to random jewelry they probably stole. Took forever to get them to calm down after finding their 'room' ransacked and cleaned out by Rouxls. The purple migit made his frustrated ways known with tapping fingers and strained grin directly towards him in question.

"I just...have a few set backs. Set backs."

"Oh yes. I remember how fondly old couples would chase each other with screams and try to bodily harm one another." He chuckled at the narrowed eyes Jevil have him. "Or maybe not. It's been at least a few hundred years. Hahaha."

"Funny,funny....What have you done, done to get expertise in other's romantical preference?," his voice asked in a low tone. A Jevil way of challenging his knowledge.

To which he shrugged. "I don't. But Id like to think I have enough know how to at least hold a decent conversation and get to know them more."

He could practically hear the gears working in the other's mind as Jevil slowly came to the realization that maybe, just maybe he had something up his sleeve. So when a more questioning look came over him, Seam couldn't help but chuckle.

"Really,really?...Would the Magnificent Seam be willing, willing to....discuss his tutorials? Tutorials.

"Haha. But then wouldn't that be cheating the game old friend?"

One of Jevil's eyelids twitched. Indicating held back annoyance at least. "Hmhm....Perhaps rules could be ...temporary bent,bent?"

It was more of a suggestion than question, but one that made Seam hum with interest anyways. His eye went back to the worm who was stretching his back out with a groan and popping noise from said worm's back. He looked about ready to get done and be one his way. Could it really hurt to exchange a few short insights of his? Jevil waited with hopeful patience as Seam rubbed his chin in thought before looking back to him with a smile.

"I suppose...haha. Two opponents of opposite sides could come to an agreement every so while still searching for victory."

A couple of giggles came his way as Jevil lit back up. "Do tell. Do tell."

"Well....I could but I think you already know he doesn't appreciate forceful attempts to get him to like someone...But how you're doing things I could be wrong."

"...And I could say, say the same about having to be forced to clean a mess,mess that's not his. ..His."

"Not if the person offered to help him in return and was happily offered to go as a ...guest for the holidays."

There it was. The straw that broke the hathys back. The jester became as still as a statue as soon as those few words tumbled out of the plush's mouth, it was honestly rather funny to see such a rare shock upon the normally cheerful face, unfortunately it didn't last long because rapid blinks followed shortly after and a forced pleasent chuckle escaped his throat.

"My dear friend, friend," Jevil said in a forced sweet voice. "It seems that my ears are not what they used to be, be. I thought for a moment you said-"

"That I will be accompanying the Duke to the this silly ball?" Jevils face dropping again made him chuckle and lean into the chair's cushions more. "I suppose it's not that big of a deal...But then again." Even if it seemed unreal, a smug look came over the cat. "You might not like my play on words, Old friend. Hahaha."

In that stuper the imp could only get out one word. "How...?"

"I offered to help take care of you. It seems you've outdone yourself with the romanticizing eh?"

He went from shocked to an angry little man complete with puffed cheeks and red eyes. If you didn't know Jevil personally it would be quite scary but to the laughing cat it was just like a small tired child. It was cuter when he suddenly stood up and stomped a foot onto the couch. Jarring the sleeping child awake and jingling the box they were sleeping in. Seam didnt even flinch when a claw was pointed at him .

"No far, no far! You cheated, cheated!"

"By nicely asking if I could go? Really Jevil. You're acting like a child who didn't get the cookie jar."

A growl. "You can't keep me away, away! "

"Who said I would? I only said I would try to help keep your wild self in check and I intend to do so. ...By giving you advice. " when Jevil didnt say anything he continued. "Try a less forceful approuch next time round. "

".....Next time?" It seemed he found his voice. Jevil could always rebound pretty fast. "My next turn will leave your head spinning, spinning!"

"Oh Im sure it will." Still with the smug grin.

"You'll see, you'll see!!"

With that he sprung himself off of the couch and with furious jingles made his way back to the back room. Oh this was surely was going to be worth watching. A slighy jingling of trinkets ditected his attention back towards the box where the child was looking at him.

"Breakfast time now?"

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

Scrubbing sounds was the most of what he heard as he kept up the cleaning momentum. He wanted to get done, collect his earnings, and get out of that chaotic hell of a home. The set back had made him take a whole couple more hours to fix, it was already probably in the middle of the night by how slightly darker it was outside. But luckily he was nearly finished. Just a part of the ceiling left-

The mop was promptly dunked back into the bucket and pulled out a moment later before being thrusted back up against the ceiling and rubbed against the black ashes remaining stuck to it. The anger was still burning in his mind but he couldn't careless. ....Unfortunately it blinded him to what would've been the soft jingling of bells coming up to him until he felt a tug on his sleeves. The scrubbing stopped and looked down to the small mass that was Jevil. Giving him a small smile-

"What doth thou want?"

The harsh tone made him flinch slightly but that didn't deter his new set of confidence. "Ive come to apologize, apologize for everything that's happened."

An anoyed but slightly confused expression came over him as Rouxls rose a brow. His attention turning back to scrubbing. "Oh lucky me... And what doth I owest thy pleasure?"

He didnt see the inhale of breath Jevil took. "I want you to forgive, forgive me. Let us start over, over. Please. Let me make up, make up!"

That made the worm pause his movenents and look back down to the hopeful face of the imp who smiled wider at him. Rouxls blinked....And blinked again. .. Before another annoyed look came over him.

"Really? I amst supposed to forget everythinge that has happened?" Jevils ears drooped slightly as Rouxls huffed. "Likest I wouldst do that- EEK!"

The mop fell to the floor with a thump and water spilt onto the floor. Rouxls scrambled back from the sudden flashing of pink in front of his face, in his hast knocking over the mop bucket and almost falling over onto his rear. Jevil admittedly was pretty startled from sudden reaction as well and just stood there. A couple shiny pink heart attacks floating above him at Rouxls's eye level.

He blinked upwards at the heavy form of the Duke in front of him-

"ART THOU TRYING TO GIVETH MINESELF A SOUL ATTACK?!" He pointed at the hearts. "I will nay f-forgiveth thou for doing that! Now...g-getest rid of them!"

Jevil did. Immediately. "Im sorry, sorry-"

"Stoppeth it! Just stoppeth apologizing." The worm pushed himself up from the wall as gave Jevil another annoyed look. "If thou was really 'sorry' thoust wouldst try harder and use that head of yours."

Jevil said nothing as Rouxls turned around to look at the new mess with a disgusted look, but he did hum and make a thoughtful expression a moment later. He might have mumbled something like 'Try harder, harder?' but Rouxls wasn't paying much attention so he barely heard. But he did see him back out of the room from the corner of his eye. Good. Now he could get done

He looked back down at the spilt water, wondering how he would get that cleaned up-...Wait. A pair of rapid footsteps came towards him, along with a small...battle cry. He barely had time to turn around before a purple blur slammed hard into his chest. They went to the ground like a sack of gems wind knocked out.

"WHONST THY F*CKETH-"

"FORGIVE ME!" A pair of yellow eyes stared intensely from his chest.

"WHA-" The smaller body of the darkner squeezed around his form face pouting against his chest. Rouxls struggled but managed to sit back up with the imp digging into him. "Absolutely not!"

His hands grabbed onto him and pulled. Hard. But Jevils limbs dug harder around him resulting in a panic running up the worm's spine and pulling harder on him. The digits digging into his goopy body was starting to hurt.

"Im not letting go, go until you let me,me make it up to you! You!"

"Thou art bluffing!" By now he was disparately wanting to get this thing off of him! He couldn't stand the way his soul was thumping against his ribcage- "T-Thou cant do this!"

"I CAN DO ANYTHING!"

Of course. What answer would he expect? He sat there and stared dumbfounded at him but considering that he was still clinging to him tighter than Lancer, and that pouting face was.....kinda cute.....UGH!!

"Fine!Fine! Thou can getteth off me now!"

He narrowed his eyes. "You give me your word,word?"

"Y-Yes. Now please-"

After a few more moments of looking at him suspiciously but slowly let Rouxls go. The worm man shakily stood up onto his feet while remaining eye contact with Jevil who seemed alot more satisfied and happy he finally got his way.

"Splendid, splendid! Hehehehehe! Im so excited,excited to hear that! I promise, promise to make you happy, happy!"

"I doubt that..."

But Jevil didn't seem to hear Rouxls mumbling to himself as he proudly skittered to the exit to the shop front. There he stood proudly and pointed a claw at the ever so calm Seam.

"One step closer,closer to checkmate!"

[kaiju-z]

Today’s summary is of a One-Shot DM’d by the lovely @langstymclangstface​. Go visit their page and give them some love, for they are a talented writer and we had a hellaciously fun time playing this one shot together!

Seon Adventures Episode 20.5:  “Crumbling Wax”, a Seon Adventures Halloween One-Shot

(Aka Nelatha’s Coochie Quest. The sequel title no one asked for :eyesemoji:)

It has been. A short while since our heroes have been in the city of Crystalgate, Capitol of the country of Aetorumia.

A costume festival is being held, bright and shining lights illuminating the night time sky above the wandering citizens as they pass by booths and tables of contents, finding entertainment for themselves and their loved ones.

Each and every one has made it their goal to wear a costume as ostentatious as the next, a sort of challenge between each other to see who can be the most in the spirit of the event.

High spirits are in the air, in spite of a problem that has arisen for everyone. Or most of everyone. A sickness has hit a substantial part of the populace and thus, people are using this evening as a gateaway from the bad vibes of their relatives being down for the count.

Some call it the end of the world, but they’re honestly being overdramatic dramatic.

Amongst the walkers of this town, there are four of the five members of the party “The Cultbusters”. Sadly, Belli is at home (I headcanon that Mournimar left Morgan with her, as we didn’t get a description of Morgan’s costume. So the good direwolf is there to be her comfort animal, along with familiar, Orion.) and she is siiiiiick. And thus, she is locked off at home, as are all that have been hit by this flu.

The rest of the party are lucky.

And the rest of the party are dressed up to their heart’s content!

Amelia wears the proud costume of a sea corsair. A daring, romanticized fersion of a pirate, with Archie as her fat little shoulder griffin, a pair of wings strapped to the chunky, hunky kitty’s back, a little beak on his face. He’s living his best life and loves his catmom.

Walking beside her, Nelatha Shadowspire’s joined the group yet again. Accompanying her lady friend Genasi, she is wearing a sexed up version of a Cleric’s uniform. Particularly, that of a Honos cleric. (She is basically a fantasy sexy nurse) And she is confident as hell in that outfit. She makes it work and she knows it.

Flanking them is Mournimar, who, while initially planning some other attire, has opted for the costume of a favored character of his from a classical play. He wears the rags of the infamous drug dealer, tomb raider, bard and poet, the Graverobber. And he is blue screening real bad on account of not being used to such festivities. With Belli on the sick bed, he is but inchest away from touching shoulders with his fellow tiefling.

He, of double disguises. Who, along with the elf baby have dressed up as the characters of Fangface and Fangpuss respectively. They are goofy outfits, but Luctan is having a ball with it, enjoying the cartoonishness of it all and the hilarity that he, someone already in disguise, is wearing a third skin now. And the baby is baby. He don’t care none.

Last, but far, far from least, Malak walks with his new traveling companions, wearing a skeleton costume. A onesie, his face painted up to appear skullish.

Together the five, plus the baby and cat, walk amongst the people as streamers fly overhead. People dance and play and drink to their heart’s content. In a various level of dress.

What catches their attention is that amongst the chaos there’s a man selling candles. A sign upon his booth states the title “The Candle Man”, as their noses are attracted by multitude of scents from these particular ones.

The closer they walk, the musical tunes of The Living Tombstone’s “Spooky Scary Skeletons” hail in repetition, much to the frustration and disguist of Nel, who’s bardic pride feels poked at with the ridicilousness of that tune.

Along the way to the Candle Man’s booth, Malak’s eye stops at a nice old fashioned game of bobbing for apples. His curiosity overtaking him, the human man gives it a go and dunks his head in the water, trying to be as dexterous as he can with his chompers.

He tries his best. Swinging his head left, right, center. Up and down, trying his damnedest to nab one of the apples. But alas, he fails at the task. From the outside perspective, someone has to walk on over to him and pull him out and back, as the Death Cleric looked like he was drowning.

Trying to give it a go himself, Mournimar enters the “battlefield” of fruit and preps to dive headfirst (as you do). Malak is the ever helpful man he is and places a hand on Mournimar’s shoulder for encouragement, casting Guidance on him.

Through a combination of the ranger’s skill in handling items and the Cleric’s holy magic, the tiefling nabs an apple. But not just your regular Granny Smith’s apple! This one is of a golden color.

“Congratulations, you won the grand prise!”

He is the victor of the game and earns himself a bag of candies from the vendor, a kind lady speaking in her best Applecore accent.

“Excellent!” exclaims Mournimar and offers the bag around. But be it because of a distate in sweets or a lack of hunger, he is left to feast on the candies himself. All the more for himself!

As they continue on, they pass by a number of establishments. From new age bars, to meat houses.  Bakeries and the like, all theming their foods after the holiday that has been bestowed upon the masses, with skulls and pumpkins and bats and all sorts of crawlies.

Luctan asks around about the sickness. Most people suggest it’s a cold time of year, so it’s normal. There are a couple of people out of town, panicking a bit regarding a pandemic. Performers say they’ve lost a hood half of their act, because of this. Lost their voices and shit.

Mourni’s type of Orc walking around, basically looks him up and down, shakes his head and says they tried, but shit didn’t work

A fire genasi performs a juggling act with flaming knives nearby. Luctan, being the boy, who loves his pointy things that he is, goes for a closer watch of the show. The Genasi man waves at Luctan, between throws and tosses and twirls and spins of the burning blades.

Impressed with the performance, Luctan gives a gold piece and a bunch more Fire Genasi come out, juggling. Despite that they are very excited to perform for him and stuff, they haven’t said a single thing. To Luctan, it appears that they are just very dedicated to their craft. And he appreciates that.

(He loves a man, who can handle a blade. Somewhere Ficus has himbs a sneeze, probably.)

Nel is not amused. Why? Aside from the juggling, her resting witch face is earned from seeing Amelia approach a pet store, where they have cats dressed in little costumes.

And you can pet said cats.

Set up as advertisements and stuff. You can buy treats themed for each cat.

She picks up the quiet mewing of kittens from the back of the room, where people pay to have kittens crawl and paw over them.

While Malak enjoys a variety of Pumpkin Spice Lattés (And there are so MANY Pumpkin Spice Lattés) Amelia goes to the cats. There’s a nice lady holding two fat cats. And she gets to pet some cats. Lennard and Harry. They were married and had a ceremony last week and the kittens are in the back.

Amelia is tearing up. This is the best day of her life.

Good work is being done for these cats. She is warned about a certain cat boi who jumps on people and demands cuddles.  Amelia seems to be prepared for this. Heavy is the ribcage that must contain so much love for felines.

Out of nowhere  areally fat Scottish fold jumps and descends on her, which causes Nel to scream a loud screm.

In response,  The cat looks at Nel and bleps.

This is the happiest day in Amelia’s life.

Cats are available for adoption.

With the cat on her head and the two in her arms, as well as Archie on her shoulders, she is virtually in cat heavan. If this is a dream, don’t let her wake up.

All the while, Malak gets free gingerbread with every latté. (Nel feels like the world’ll collapse around her over all the coffee.)

Eventually, with cats in tow, the party find themselves at the Candle Man’s store.

One very bored teenager fiddling with a candle. He looks like he can’t be bothered. As they get closer to inspect them, each one looks like a person. They seem to be made expertly, made in order of famous people, but they don’t recognize any of them.

Except for one.

Luctan vaguely recognizes one of the figures as the dancer!Zitra! But something seems off about it, like it was done in a hurry. Almost like someone wasn’t used to this, as opposed to the expert.

The young one explains that  the candlemaker’s sick, so the kid had to rush ‘em.  Luctan buys one of the Lady Zitra and an unknown dude.  Then hands the young salesperson a pamphlet and encouraging words. He believes that they can do better!

Curious, Malak wants a candle made of him. But gets the strange explanation that a personal hairstrand is required for the wick. And backs off immediatelly.

Luctan and Mournimar have no idea what this is about. To Nel there seems to be more than he’s letting on. Sinister vibe coming off of him.

She’s noticed he hasn’t’blinked once since they met him, but a few minutes prior.

He’s very cagey about what his general job is, as opposed to the summer job.

It’s mostly, you know, ehm, bar keeping and cleaning.

At the Busty Wench. The one in town.

Nel doesn’t remember a franchise opening here.

On these revelations, the shadyness of the character, if Malak hadn’t changed his mind before, he most certainly had now.

Malak casts Zone of Truth.

The moment he casts the spell, something odd happens. No. Something horrid happens. The ground begins to melt.

All around them? Everyone starts melting as blobs of flesh and clothes and then they realize they’re surrounded by wax, which starts to pull and move towards the stand, which is slowly changing form until they start in front of a vague humanoid figure twice of Mournimar’s height.

Yeah...

The sign is very litteral.

Much to Amelia’s horror, all cats, but Archie, begin to melt. Gordon and Harry and the one on her head crumble and fuse and melt off and down to the ground below. Even the cats were fake.

The wax man has a big as smile. Whatever he is. the party had never heard of it before.

As he says that, he rises into the air and drops down and suddenly everything is melting into wax, white and overpowering scent of burning candle and the floor is disappearing beneath everyone’s feet.

BOGUS!”, to say the least.

Thinking fast,  Nel uses Polymorph and changes into a giant eagle and grabs Amelia and Archie to move them to safety. Once in the air, she looks out into the horizon and in a perfect circle? She sees that the city is surrounded by a desert. And slowly-an-and- and melting?!

Malak is noticing that the fire jugglers, who but moments prior were catching and throwing burning blades, were now sleeping and drowning in wax.

He tries to save them, but isn’t strong enough to do a thng about all this.

From what the lot of the ‘busters can gather, apparently the sick people are the real ones. And they are sinking.

Wasting no further time, the rest of the party start climbing.

Arriving at the top, they see that the area they started from? There’s this vast and expanding black hole, going outwards. Up top, Luctan has a vague feeling that something isnt’real here, but there’s so much magic surrounding him, he cant’pinpoint what the illusion is.

All the while Mournimar strategizes with the polymorphed Nelatha.

Malak takes a notice that the hair sticking out of the wax candles is still there and he realizes that the figurines at the stall are left completely in tact.

Luck realizes that some of the people he tried pulling out had wax figurines.

The ones he was shown were selected so he wouldn’t recognize them. It is by mere chance that they had met the Lady herself. And thus, he acts upon a gut feeling.  He removes the hairstring and the figurine cracks, before beginning a climb down to the candle booth. To repeat that on a grander level. And Mournimar follows, in spite of Luctan’s protests.

Nel is tasked with carrying the others away.

(And here we have a bit of a 2-3 minute break, because Cat’s mic was off for a good while. Because her kitten, the Little Man/Little Bastard as she calls him had turned it off. It was the funniest thing ever.)

As they part ways, Amelia casts Levitate on Luctan. Yell heah!

As Luck flies, he remembers he left Belli asleep in the Shadowspire Manor, which from his perspective, begins to melt. Cursing under his breath, he takes the figurines with a box and removes the hairs on the way to Belli’s as Mournimar sprints after him.

As they move, Mourni notices Luctan’s in tiefling form. And has a tail?!

The levitation drops eventually and Luctan falls on the ground. As he turns around, he sees he’s been chased by a fellow tiefling, but it’s not someone he recognizes.

Nel turns in her normal form forcibly as they travel and they are surrounded by strangers. Making her 3 point landing, Amelia notices a bird turning into a humanoid form and sadly doesn’t recognize Nel.

Everyone’s... surrounded by strangers.

A figure about Amelia’s height rises from the wax and says “Hello there, don’t be frightened. You’ve been saved.”

Luck see this form as well, but it’s smaller and childlike and feels an eerie sense of calm.

Mournimar, unfortunately, fails on a wisdom save and “ knows everything’ll be alright”.

As he realizes this, his features starts melting off, until Mourni is gone, replaced with a lump of wax.

Seeing all this madness happening around him, Malak casts Protection of Good and Evil and protects himself.

Luck feels Danger as he sees that someone start melting, which causes him to have... the freaks out. It’s this reason why he probably only too late notices he has his tail back?!

Feeling threatened by this wax fhild,  Luctan casts Sacred Flame, which burns a hole through the child’s chest. Not falling for whatever niceties the child propheces, the red tiefling burst into a dash towards Belli’s location.

Mournimar is ordered to attack Luctan. And he does so, chasing after him, unsheathing the swords from his hips and attacking.  All the while this big lump of wax follows along as the floor seems to start to swallow him.

Luctan gets attacked and the seering pain feels like fire. Looking at the wound inflicted by the possessed Mournimar, he realizes he’s made of wax. Out of anxiety and rage and frustration and pain, he goes on to react with a Hellish Punishment at his attacker and melts Mournimar?!

(BEGONE, TIEF!)

Malak makes an attack, casting Litch Slap on the monstrous child. He hadn’t prepared any combat spells, but at the very least he had this.

Chunks fly and hit Amelia and Nel and reveal wax underneath.

Nel bounces. Not recognizing anyone, she has no reason to be here.

The thing goes after Malak.

Amelia bounces as well.

She takes two steps, before  a hand reaches out from the ground and grabs her, squeezing and burning.

With a strength, unmatched and one powerful crushing motion, Amelia’s head pops off. And she poofs out of existence.

Malak attacks with his axe and that has no effect. As Nel runs, tendrils are grabbing at her feet. “Nope-nope-nope-nope-nope.”

One successful tendril  grabs and pulls her down.

Nel feels herself being pulled down into the wax and it pours down into the ground. She suffocates and no longer is within this realm of existence.

The tendrils go after Luctan, shifting into vicious spikes, but melt behind him, due to him perpetually casting Prestidigitation, applying sparks in the viscinity aorund him.

.He carries on like this, until the sensation of emptyness under him catches his attention.

And he starts falling.

And falling.

And. While still dressed in the Fangface costume, he tries to concentrate on hsi wings. Figuring he could create them at this point, he does so. Wax versions of his wings shape from his shoulderblades. And for a short moment, he manages to fly up.

Until the wings break apart.

And he starts falling yet again.

As spikes portrude from around him and impale him, taking him out as well.

And then there’s Malak.

“ I’m the last survivor, you guys.”

The kid begins to clap with a wicked smile and congratulates him.

Then we all open our eyes. Peppery Pete stands over us as we wake up.

Basically. What it comes down to, as we catch our bearings and get up, is that Pete explains Belli hired Pete to drug us with some strange drug.

It was whack.

The party are not amused. Nel is confused.

They just stand there. Being menacing.

Malak takes a knee and rests a hand on Pete’s shoulder.

“Look, mistakes happen.”

“ But if you ever do this to us or anyone again, I will personally sever your soul from your body.”

Pete is. To say the least. Terrified from the death glare.

And Amelia basically realizes that Pete is bullshitting them and Belli had nothing to do with this. It was meant to be a team building exercise.

“Yeah, but why am I here, though?!” - Nel’s still confused.

FIN!

Previous episode / Next episode

[mischiefandspirits]

From the Start: The Poisoned Chalice

It was supposed to be a one time thing. Arthur let the sorcerer run off with his life in return for him saving Arthur’s. He had never expected to see the boy again, especially not only two days later in Gaius’s chambers.

“He's getting hotter,” Gwen called out.

“Hmmm, liffrea, wuldres wealdend, woroldare forgeaf.”

Gwen frowned at the mumblings that quieted as Gaius grew closer. “What language is that?”

Gaius leaned closer to try to hear, but Merlin had stopped.

“I couldn’t hear. Likely none. The fever may have taken hold. I’ll brew him something to soothe his mind,” he said, his hand on Merlin’s wrist. His frown grew. “His pulse is weaker.”

“Oh Merlin,” Gwen said, wiping his brow.

“Ar’ur. I's d’rk. T’ d’rk,” he slurred and Gwen’s began to worry anew. The potion Gaius had given him earlier had quieted his words to nearly inaudible hums earlier, but it seemed to be wearing off as he was slowly growing agitated and she could just catch his words. “F’om’m f’gif’um ‘n f’der b’rme. Fr’mum feoh’ft’m.”

She opened her mouth to call to Gaius, but stopped as she spotted something glittering near the edge of Merlin’s bed. She pulled back the covers and barely held back a gasp at the swirling orb of light floating above his hand. She quickly threw the blankets back over him, tucking them around him so no light escaped. She glanced over her shoulder and relaxed when she saw Gaius’s back to them.

“Merlin,” she whispered, staring at the boy’s face.

Magic! Merlin had magic! But Merlin was… Merlin. He was sweet and kind and… How could he have something as evil as magic?

Suddenly she remembered something Morgana had told her.

“You know, I approve.”

“Approve, My Lady?” Gwen asked as she filled the lady’s goblet.

“Of your crush on Merlin. He’s such a sweet boy.”

Gwen blushed. “I don’t have a crush on Merlin.”

“Of course,” Morgana said with a wink. “He is a sweetheart, though. I hope someday I can find a man who would do for me what he tried to do for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t heard?” Morgana asked, bringing her goblet up to her lips as if to hide the smirk she was obviously wearing. “Merlin burst into a council meeting and announced -- in front of the king, no less -- that he was a sorcerer and had been the one to save your father.”

“He did what!?”

“Apparently he couldn’t stand to let you die and was willing to lie on your behalf.”

Gwen blushed at the memory even as the realization sunk in. Gwen, like Morgana, had assumed Merlin had been lying on her behalf, but Merlin was a sorcerer so maybe none of it had been a lie.

“Lea’m, Afur,” Merlin mumbled, shaking his head.

Gwen grabbed the cloth and dunked it in the bucket of water.

Merlin had known her father was well before she’d told anyone. She’d known he had, but she’d never considered why. She’d just let him run off with his silly joke about being psychic.

“Go. S’you’s’f. F’ll’ the li’t.”

And if Merlin had done this, saved her father and then tried to save her when she took the blame, could she really think magic was evil? Could she think Merlin was evil?

“F’ster. G’ fas’r. Fo’w the ‘ight!”

“Hush, Merlin. It’s okay. Arthur will be back soon.”

“M’v’. Cl’mb.”

“Everything will be okay, I swear.”

Merlin relaxed into the bed and Gwen peaked under the blankets. She sighed with relief when she saw the orb fading to nothing and covered him back up.

“I swear.”

“He’s back!” Gaius and Gwen looked up as Morgana peaked in the doors for just a second. “Arthur’s back,” she reiterated before ducking out again.

The two shared a look before Gwen followed after her mistress. They raced into the courtyard, only to see Arthur being led off towards the dungeons by a group of guards.

“Arthur,” Morgana called out, rushing towards him.

“Halt, My Lady,” a guard said, stepping between them.

“Out of the way, I need to speak to Arthur.”

“Apologies, but it’s the king’s orders. Prince Arthur is not allowed any visitors.”

“That man,” Morgana growled. “Where is he?”

“Waiting for the prince in the dungeons, My Lady.”

“Take me to him!”

The guard hesitated, but bowed under her glare and led her off. Gwen didn’t follow, knowing her presence was likely only to anger the king. Instead, she returned to Gaius with the news.

Arthur reached through the bars desperately for the flower he’d risked so much for.

Why, though? My father is right, isn’t he? Merlin is just a servant, and a sorcerous one at that. Why should I, the prince, have risked my life for him? a demanding voice said from the back of his mind. One that sounded much like his father.

Because Merlin has saved my life at the risk of his own. And not for the first time, either. So what if he has magic, a second voice countered, this one with Morgana’s snippy tone.

But I’m the prince, I have a duty to my people!

My people, including the boy dying up in Gaius’s rooms!

“Just shut up,” he hissed, stretching out his hand just a little farther. “Yes!” he grabbed the stem with the tips of his fingers and drew it back into the cell with him. The elation lasted for all of a moment before he remembered exactly where he was.

Locked in a cell with no means of getting the flower to Merlin. He’d failed. He’d disappointed his father, angered him into locking him up, and for what?

He let his head fall against the bars.

So much for their great destiny. Take that, you crazy old dragon!

“Merow.”

Arthur looked up to see yellow eyes staring at him. “Oh great, you’re here. As if things couldn’t be worse.”

The cat chirped and slipped through the bars to nuzzle Arthur’s knee.

Arthur sighed and scratched its ears. “At least you’ll keep the rats away while I’m in here. Unless you’re as useless as your idiot creator.”

It purred and leaned into his hand.

“Though if you really want to be useful, you’d take this up to Gwen and Gaius,” he said, waving the flower in its face. “I’d even give you a name if you can pull that off. Maybe stop kicking you out of my rooms.”

The cat tilted its head, eyes following the flower.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he snorted, moving to get up.

The cat jumped forwards and snatched the flower out of his hand before darting through the bars.

“Hey!” he shouted, but the cat disappeared into the shadows. “Perfect. There goes Merlin’s last hope.”

Gwen bit her lip as she approached the kitchens. This was a bad idea, a really bad one, but what else could she do. Merlin needed the flower and her best chance at getting it from Arthur was pretending to bring him a meal. She’d worked the dungeons before when the kitchen-maids needed an extra hand. The guards wouldn’t think anything of it.

If she was discovered to be lying though…

“Churrrr.”

Gwen jumped and looked over to see a cat perched on a console table next to her, licking its paws. She smiled as she recognized it as the one who’d been haunting Arthur’s chambers as of late. At least, according to all the other serving girls that worked the area. They swore it was Arthur’s, but Gwen couldn’t see the prince keeping a cat. If anything, she thought it was likely Merlin’s. He seemed the type to take in strays.

“Hello, little one. I don’t have anything to give you, sorry. I need to -” Gwen cut off as she spotted the yellow flower resting at the cat’s feet.

There was no way…

Gwen picked the flower up and spun it in her fingers.

It looked just like the picture in Gaius’s book.

“Where did you get this?”

The cat ignored her, starting to clean its face.

Gwen stared at the cat for a beat before shaking herself and running down the hall back towards the court physician’s chambers.

Merlin rolled his eyes as he glanced at the prince to see him still staring at the cat curled up on his desk. “Are you going to do that all night?”

“I still can’t believe it listened to me.”

“I told you he’s smart.”

“And I told you it’s magic.”

“Right… So what are you going to name him?”

Arthur scowled. “Are you even sure it’s a boy?”

“You’re free to double check.”

Arthur crossed his arms and shot the warlock a look.

“Perhaps -”

“Palug is still a stupid name, Merlin.”

“It’s fitting,” Merlin muttered under his breath, turning away.

A few moments passed in silence before a knock came at the door.

“Enter.”

The door opened and Gwen stepped in. She curtsied and said, “Apologies, Your Highness, but can I speak to Merlin for a moment. It won’t take long.”

Arthur waved her off, not looking up from the cat. “Fine, he’s getting on my nerves anyway. Just make sure he’s back in time for dinner.”

“Thank you,” she replied, glancing between him and the cat in bemusement.

Merlin led her out with a snicker.

“Why was he staring at that cat?” she asked as they started down the hall.

“He’s trying to figure out a name for him and it’s taking all his brainpower,” he teased.

“You shouldn’t talk about the prince that way,” she said playfully. “So it is his then?”

He opened the door to Arthur’s servant's quarters with a nod. “If you ask Arthur, he’s mine, but you don’t see him swiping at Arthur every time he goes near it. In fact, he adores the prat. So yeah, he’s Arthur’s.”

Gwen giggled. “It doesn’t really swipe at you.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow and pulled up his sleeve to show faint scratch marks. “He does. He also climbs all over me while I’m trying to work and yowls at me if he sees me with food. Honestly, it’s like having another Arthur around.”

Gwen giggled again. “I’m sorry.”

Merlin shrugged. “At least he’s cute, unlike His Royal Highness. So what did you need?”

Gwen’s amusement immediately fled her. “I-I wanted to say thank you.”

Merlin’s blinked. “Me? I should be thanking you. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, Gaius, and Arthur.”

Gwen shook her head. “That wasn’t what I meant. I wanted to thank you for-for saving my father when he grew ill during that plague.”

Merlin felt his heart skip a beat. “Your father? I have no -”

“Merlin, it’s alright. I know.” She glanced at the doors before stepping closer to him. “When you were ill, you summoned a ball of light to your hand.”

Merlin’s eyes widened.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone. I swear. It’s the least I could do after you saved my father and then tried to turn yourself in when I was accused.”

“I swear, Gwen, I never meant for you to -”

“I know, it’s alright,” she pulled him into a hug and he quickly returned it.

They parted after a moment when something occurred to Merlin. “You said I summoned a light? Did Gaius see too?”

“No, I hid it under your blankets. No one saw.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you. ”

Merlin smiled at her, then turned to walk through the door to Arthur’s room.

“Merlin,” he heard Gwen squeak.

“You were right.”

“I usually am, Merlin. You’ll need to be more specific.”

The warlock rolled his eyes. “I was the one that summoned the light for you.”

“Obviously. Who else wou-” Arthur cut off with a choke as he glanced past the boy. “Merlin!”

Gwen stepped up to Merlin’s side, looking between him and Arthur with terrified eyes.

“So… Gwen knows. As does Arthur.”

“Merlin!” two voices shouted.

A final note since I've gotten a few questions about this: FtS is request based. That means I'm putting out chapters based on requests by you guys. As such, this story isn't going to be chronological as you guys aren't requesting them in chronological order. It's actually fun for me because I've got the story planned out all the way until "The Changeling" and am currently rewatching “The Castle of Fyrien” to take notes at the time of posting this so I can put in a few references to events that you guys haven't seen yet to incite your curiosity. In fact, the next chapter is skipping all the way to series 3, so brace yourselves for some surprise character appearances!

Additionally, I went back and edited Merlin's age in the last chapter. It seems I forgot Merlin would still be sixteen at the time of those events. Oops!

[ask-de-writer]

FROM DARKNESS TO DAWN  (Part 2 of 3), an MLP Fan Fiction of the TRUE HISTORY OF EQUESTRIA

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

Return to FROM DARKNESS TO DAWN

FROM DARKNESS TO DAWN

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

7096 words

Copyright 2017 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 02/11/14

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.  I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of Fan activity is actively encouraged!

///////////////////////

Prologue: This tale takes place about 3000 years in the past of the modern MLP canon.  During this time, Celestia and Luna are still fillies, though close to grown physically.  The events here recorded are the foundation of the modern Hearthwarming Eve stories and pageants which were written by the winners of these events.

For those who have wondered how a Changeling-like creature like Heather Bloom O'Red Hoof could have been welcomed into the modern court of Celestia and Luna in Canterlot, it will be seen that it was the joyful reunion of fillyhood playmates.

For more background information please read:

De Writer and the Orb of the Ages: The first tale in the history of De Writer

De Writer’s Tale (a narrative poem)

The Coming of Tam O'Canter and Heather Bloom O'Red Hoof to Ponyville

Hearthwarming Eve / Starvation’s Night

/////////////////////

PART 1 is HERE     PART 3 is HERE

De Writer smiled sadly and replied, “Can't fool you, can I?  It was the Pegasus General in charge of the wing that pursued us.  He was preparing to order a wider search because what you did made him feel humiliated.  

“He was one who landed in a tree and was afraid to climb or fly on down to the ground.”  His voice hardened, “It will look like he was assassinated by his second in command.  That pony was in charge of the Evanescence raid and massacre.”

Remembering, all too well, the night before and her feelings of helplessness as she tried to save young friends, colt and filly alike.  But not enough of them.  Never enough.  Too many were murdered while she watched.

Luna held her Father by tightening her wings about him and said, “That was well done, Father.  Very well done.”

Nodding his head, horn bobbing, De Writer accepted what Luna said.  Then he sadly added, “I wish that I could see it so, My Dear.”

Luna returned his sad smile and replied, “I feel the same.  I did save us.  I too, wish that I could see those nightmares as a thing well done.”

De Writer nodded again.  “Now, my dear, I do need you to sleep.  You both need your rest.  I need to use the Orb to find every strength and weakness that our foes possess.  

“I also need to explore the Orb's powers, strengths and weaknesses.  I have regarded it wrongly since it was given to me.  I have looked to it as a sort of toy.  Now, too late for most of our friends, I need to learn how to use it as a weapon.”

“Very well, Father.  I will leave you to it.  May you find what you are looking for.  I hope that the price of your search is not too high.” She put her head beneath a dark wing and was soon sleeping.

The pale glow of the Orb beneath the trees flickered rapidly as scene after scene flashed by or paused.  The old blue unicorn himself vanished and returned several times.

He was quietly making notes on a parchment when Celestia woke with a jolt. Tearfully she called, “Father!   Where are you!”

Reaching over to his daughter, he took her in his blue magic and replied, “I am here, my dear.  I am here.”

Looking about wildly, Celestia's eyes finally focused on him.  “Oh, Father! I could not feel you here.  It was like you were gone.  My magic could not find you.  Only my eyes.  I was afraid that you were some sort of ghost.  It was like a terrible dream.”

He gave her a reassuring smile and said, “That is something that I am learning about the Orb.  I am both here and not here.  It is complex.  I suspect that I cannot be harmed by any means at all.  It is not an experiment that I want to undertake.”

Dryly, Celestia retorted, “I wonder why?”

Then she looked at the eastern sky and watched the dawn critically.  “Nice enough colors and that sort of thing but . . . I don't feel quite right about it.  Something is off.  Do you know what I mean, Father?”

“As it happens, my dear Celestia, I know exactly what you mean.  I know how you know that it is not quite right, too.  We need to awaken Luna. After we get food and water, we need to get on to the Great Southern Bay.”

Luna joined them, her footfalls silenced by soft grass and mosses.  “I heard what you said, Celestia.  What ever it is, it is happening to the moon too.  It is a little . . . Off, sort of.

“Father, I have had an idea.  We can easily watch for our enemies from here. There is good feed and water and lots of shelter under the trees.  We have lots of room to exercise.  There is even a cavern over there where the spring comes out.  Why don't we stay here until it is time to go the Sunrise Isles?”

Looking pointedly at the nearest edge of the wide ledge, De Writer said, “Lots of room to exercise, hm?  You could miss footing easily near an edge and take quite the tumble.”

Both sisters raised their wings and grinned.  “WE could gallop easily. YOU could canter a lot!”

De Writer nodded and smiled at the word play.  Blue magic marked out a reasonably safe area and De Writer added, “Here is our canter-lot. We will stay inside that area for the good reason that it will be hard for any enemy to see us.

“Your idea is a good one, Luna.  We can easily build up our strength here for the flight to the Sunrise Isles.”

Celestia gave her father a sideways look and pawed the grass nervously with a hoof before asking, “Luna told me something a few minutes ago.  She said that you killed a general of the pegasi that were pursuing us. How could you do that?  You cannot fly to get to them.”

De Writer nodded, “Both of those things are true.  I am still very disturbed by what I did.  I deeply wish that I was able to find a different way to stop the search.

“What I did and your dream this morning are tied together.  Get used to that feeling of not being able to sense me by magic.  I have found things about the Orb of the Ages that are far stranger than I dreamed.”

Celestia fanned her wings.  “You aren't here right now, except to my eyes. Why is that?”

Instead of an answer, blue magic grabbed both fillies and moved them back under the trees.  De Writer sprinted for shelter along with them.  Shadows swooped across the grassy area.  

Luna watched quietly.  “Eagles?  We need to be careful of eagles?”

“No, we do not.  I was taken by surprise.  Large winged creatures coming around the shoulder of the mountain is what I saw,” the panting De Writer replied from their brushy shelter.

Celestia noted dryly, “If being here makes you this nervous, perhaps we ought to gather what we can take with us and be on our way.  Am I going to have to carry you still, Father?”

Luna replied for him, “Not actually.  We need to be close to him because he is still really upset at all that has happened.  He is afraid of losing us, too.  I think that us staying together is a good idea as well.”

Celestia nodded agreement.  “So, Father, where are the Sunrise Isles?  I have heard of them but never seen any map that shows them.  I am guessing, somewhere in the Great Southern Bay or at least near to it because that is where you want us to go first.”

De Writer nibbled some thistle tops, a favorite forage treat of his, and replied, “You are both correct.  I do not want to be away from either of you for a second.

“As for the Sunrise Isles, they are in the middle of the Great Southern Bay. They cannot be seen by normal ponies at all.  We need to find the Tower of Life, which is on one of the Isles.”

Luna thought that over very carefully and asked, “Will our Mother, our Creator, be there?”

“I do not know, Luna.  The Isles and the tower are shrouded in the Creation Magic of the Titans.  The Orb is very limited around that magic and the Titans themselves.”

Celestia began limbering up her wings.  “Will I need to carry Luna too, Father?”

“Not this day, my dear.  I may not be a happy pony but I am no longer in shock.”

Luna began to limber up her wings as well.  With a grin, she said, “Good. Celestia's magic tickles.  I think that she did it on purpose.”

With a look of injured innocence, Celestia replied, “Would I do such a thing?”

De Writer nodded, “You would, and you know it!  Now, my daughters, let us be gone from here.”

Enfolded gently by both the midnight glow of Luna's magic and the soft many colored magic of Celestia, he was born aloft as the two took to the air with powerful wing strokes.

In less than a half of a day, they landed on the shores of the Great Southern Bay.  Celestia playfully dropped De Writer into the waves on the shoreline.

Actually smiling freely for the first time since the attack, De Writer waded back to the beach.  “I see that my safety and dignity are well looked after by you, my dears!”

Blue magic from a solidly braced unicorn gave Celestia a sudden and unexpected dunking too.

Looking to Luna, the playful father and daughter saw her gazing out to sea. With her eyes closed.  Giving a smile, Luna said softly, “I see them.  The Sunrise Isles are beautiful.  Take a look, Celestia.  You have to shut your eyes and use your magic to see them.  You need to use the same magic that told us that the sunrise and moon rises were somehow wrong.

“That magic is different from our usual horn magic.  I don't quite know how to explain that.”

Her eyes closed too, Celestia replied, “You are right, Luna. ��The Isles are beautiful.  I think that this must be some sort of Creator Magic.  We know that we were made to do something about the heavens.  We have been told that.  Regular Unicorn magic simply can't reach far enough or be strong enough to do something that needs such a combination of delicacy and raw power.

“I never thought about it before.  We must have some Creator Magic or we could not do our work.”

Luna's lips quirked up in a tooth baring grin as she retorted, “Just figuring that out, are you?  I thought that I was a bit slow because I only sorted it out last night.”

A sudden surge of many hued magic lifted the dark sister and dropped her into the tide.

All three sported about on the beach to dry off.

Luna called the halt first.  “Father, we can see the Sunrise Isles easily.  Why don't we just fly over to them?”

De Writer skidded to a stop, scattering sand over a turtle crawling across the beach.  “It is not as easy to get to them as it appears, my dear. I can show you both.  Let us go up to the shade of the tree-line.”

In the sun-dappled shade, he took out the Orb of the Ages and set it on a large fallen log.  Both of his foster daughters crowded close to see what he had to show them.

First, he turned his head to Celestia and asked, “How big is the Everfree Forest?”

Celestia wrinked her brow as she thought. Suddenly she grinned.  “That is a trick question.  It has more than one size.  If you mean from where we lived to the other side, maybe thirty miles or so.  

“If you mean the Hidden Ways, I have heard that it somehow connects to places all over the world.”

De Writer nodded with a smile.  “Correct, Celestia.  It is a part of a network created by the Titans when they were making the world.  They planned to remove it when they were done.

“Whatever happened to or among themselves, the Titans never quite finished the work.  Now those Hidden Ways are being the salvation of Jarla Heather Bloom and the refugees with her.  We . . .”

Luna let out a cry of, “JARLA Heather Bloom?” and began to weep.    “Peach Tree died?  I . . . I did not know!  I was hoping that she would recover from the burns!”

De Writer's blue magic and Celestia's many hued magic together enfolded Luna to comfort her.  Celestia's eyes were flowing tears too.

De Writer said softly, “Her great heart stopped this morning while we were flying here.  Her last living act was to give Heather Bloom her Heart Keeper's Oath.  She will be buried with all honor this afternoon.”

They all three spent some time in silence to honor the passing of their treasured friend, Peach Tree, Jarla of Red Hoof, Heart Keeper to Jarl Natchin, wise and gentle ruler of the lands of Red Hoof, their home before the invaders came.

Celestia recovered first.  She said sadly, “As hard as it is, her passing was not unexpected.  Her injures were terrible.  Because she could not free him from the fallen beam, she used all of her store of love magic, that might have used to save herself, to comfort her Jarl until he died.  She kept her Heart Keeper's Oath perfectly.”

“What was it that you wished to show us, Father?”

Turning his attention back to the Orb of the Ages, De Writer muttered, “The future is forbidden.”  The Orb began to glow with a ghostly pale light.  A scene formed.

The Isles could be plainly seen but they were surrounded by delicate seeming magic.  It had many openings.  Each led by complex and interlocking ways either back on itself, out by a different opening or some that seemed to simply vanish altogether.

None seemed to go through the magic of the shield about the Sunrise Isles. Celestia observed, “I see.  Getting to the Isles is not so simple as just flying there.  In fact, if I am seeing this rightly, neither wing nor boat can take us to them at all.

“Why is it so important that we get to this place that we cannot get to, Father?”

//////// TO BE CONTINUED /////////

[justira]

STORY STARTERS MEME

Rules: List the first lines of your last 15 stories. See if there are any patterns. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

@petite-neko tagged me, and I have never been tagged for anything before in my life. But, uh, sure, let’s do this!

I definitely do not know 10 writers on tumblr because I am very terrible at doing The Tumblrs and also I mostly talk to artists on here? But why not, let’s tag my partner in crime @sevdrag; @wordsdear, who I know writes; and @kaizokunohime, who doesn’t write prose but does write story ideas/prompts, and I’d like to see how those do with this meme.

I have no idea what is meant by “first lines” here? The first sentence? The first block of text until whitespace? idek, I tried to keep it reasonable. This is in reverse chrono order, so first story is most recent.

1. Acclimating

[One Piece — Law/Luffy, Law & Strawhats — E, 31.3K ]

Law probably should have seen this coming. It wasn't his splintered self-worth that made him avoid things like this (and what business of anyone's was it, anyway, if he lived for Cora-san's memory? He'd been living on borrowed time for over a decade, and every step he'd taken since then had drawn him closer to a confrontation he expected (hoped) he wouldn't survive). But his utter lack of interest in making himself likable because there was nothing much to like certainly helped cut down on complications. Or, it usually did. The standard rules did not seem to apply to Strawhat. Black Leg had warned him, although, all things considered, that shouldn't have been necessary. 

2. A Slow and Vicious Hemorrhage

[BBC Sherlock / Hannibal Movies — Holmes/Watson — M, 5.5K, WIP]

The air gets heavier, down here, cooler and tinged with inescapable subterranean damp. John breathes it in, steadily; it doesn't particularly unnerve him. It reeks of institution and he's had practice enough with those. It's not calming, precisely, but it's familiar. It's all familiar. It's all fine.

It is.

His hand tightens on the two case files. It doesn't stop the tremor, but he rubs his thumb across the labels, the rough reality of them, already thoroughly ragged from the flicks and scrapes and polishing and various pointless attritions of dozens of fingers, despite the very recent dates stamped on both of them. Two dates, two names. Neither name belongs to Sherlock Holmes.

3. Swimming Lessons

[Final Fantasy X — Auron/Braska/Jecht — T, 1K ]

Auron sputtered as Jecht dunked him under the water again. He came up for air, gasping, to hear Braska rebuke Jecht. "Jecht, he can't swim." Braska's tone was just this side of sharp, showing that Jecht was testing his patience; good, as he had surely tested Auron's. Auron clawed his hair out of his face where it had escaped his tail. Jecht was already too far away to shove. Braska floated over to him, touched his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

4. This Stolen Interstice

[Dragon Age: Origins — Duncan/Teagan — M, 8K]

The Grey Warden came during the harvest. The field Teagan was working was cradled in one of Rainesfere's rolling valleys; trees rose high on all sides, crowning the surrounding hills and wind-murmuring to each other as the harvesters worked. The air was thick with dust and chaff and the smell of fallen leaves, just edging into cold. That hint of crispness settled pleasantly on Teagan's skin as he worked amidst the slice and whisper of sickles and threshing, the barking of dogs weaving through the rhythmic sounds — no laughing children, not during the harvest, as all but babes were put to work at some task or another. He found one such child suddenly in his path — Rogher's youngest. Deliah? That must be it.

"What is it, Deliah?" Teagan wiped his brow as he stood, stretched his back.

"There's a man to see you," the girl mumbled, shy before her bann. "Mama says he's a Grey Warden."

The words spilled a chill down his back, much harsher than the gentle bite in the air. Darkspawn, here?

5. The Storm That Sweeps So Quiet

[Final Fantasy Tactics — Alma/Tietra — T, 1.2K]

Alma's spine aches. She has been bowed over this tome for entirely too long. Study is normally a pleasure, particularly the histories or the great tales of the Church, but this day she set aside to get through an endless dissertation on courtly graces. Studious as Alma may normally be, her heart is not in this. Today, the floor is distractingly hard beneath her folded skirts, even with the spare cushion. Her bodice itches unreasonably. Behind her, Tietra's quiet breathing and quieter warmth brush down Alma's back; she had persuaded her friend to take the window seat and regrets it not one bit, discomfort or no. It's not Tietra's fault that Lord Haverell's text drones so. Outside, the sunshine drips between tumultuous clouds; the air is heavy and moist, and the clouds tower high. It is not a day for study, not at all.

She runs her finger down the rich vellum of the page and listens to its smooth whisper. Behind her, she hears Tietra shift, the soft sigh of fabric and the rougher-edged rasp of pages rubbing together. Well, if Tietra feels it too...

6. So let it out and let it in

[Supernatural — Castiel & Mary, Castiel & Dean, Castiel & Sam — G, 5.1K]

"Jay Bird Family Special," the waitress announces, clear and cheery above the lunchtime clinks and conversation buzzing through the diner. She tips Mary a wink. Mary grins back as Heather sets the giant platter in front of her, gently intercepting baby Dean's hand going straight for the steak. "Your man running late?"

"Course not!" John pops up behind Heather. He's breathless under a thin sheen of sweat, his face all smiles and engine grease, and Mary could not want to touch that handsome curve of jaw more.

Instead, she puts a mild growl of threat in her voice, not even trying to cover the laughter crowding up alongside it. "If you think you're getting those paws anywhere near my food or my son—"

7.  And Under Sky, the Shelter

[Final Fantasy Tactics — Ramza & Rapha, Marach, Mustadio, Agrias  — G, 1.4K]

The hill cups gently around a lee; pebbles gather in the shadow where the wind abandoned them, making for a stony bed, but it will serve well enough for their purposes. Ramza, at least, is tired enough to collapse where he stands. He watches Agrias survey the site and thinks dully about what to do if it does not meet her standards of defensibility. It is well that she nods in approval, as he had not managed to think of any alternatives. The weariness runs too deep in his bones, leeching at thought, at care. It frightens him, distantly. So many have ceased to care, it seems. He rouses himself with a shake that feels like trying to shift mountains.

Tired to numbness or no, camp must be made, the birds cared for. The birds and — his teeth tug at his lip as his glance lands on Rapha and Marach, hovering at the edges of the group — the people. The tasks have been long apportioned, but in their ever growing and shrinking company, they reassign the routine often enough. It is just that he is too tired tonight to think on it.

8. There the Bones of Us May Lie

[Final Fantasy XII — Ashe/Balthier — T, 2.5K]

The hollow starlight sinks into ashen softness before her as she boards the Strahl; the hungry roar of the Cataract is hushed, made muted and metallic. It is like sinking into water, reversed. The quiet is the same, the sense of distance, but as she ascends there is no persistent buoyancy, no insistent upward press. Weight seems to sink down on her instead, settling deeper about her shoulders like a mantle.

It's familiar.

The silence of the ship eats her sigh, giving back nothing. And that, too is familiar — comforting, even, to have no wraiths answering those unmeant nighttime summons. The Occuria's illusion of Rasler is shattered, and Vaan isn't here to haunt her either, sleeping below with the others; Ashe is alone if not exactly unfettered. It is beyond her, just now, to judge whether that is better, and that is, in any case, irrelevant. There is little point in dwelling on it, now.

9. Best Hand

[Ace Attorney — Apollo & Trucy, Phoenix — G, 0.5K]

Apollo eyed the backs of Mr. Wright's cards. Wright kept them low, hands resting easy and relaxed on the table — Trucy was just the opposite, her fan of cards held up in front of her face, casting conspiratorial glances over the top. Hiding her smile. Trucy had something; Apollo'd figured that much out. Not as good as his own hand, though, he was sure of it.

(Now if only...)

He looked back at Wright. Nothing to see. Nothing to sense; bracelet quiet and loose on his wrist. (Damn! It's not just that he used Trucy for the games, he's impossible to read anyway!) Apollo resisted gritting his teeth.

10. Eclipse

[Final Fantasy IV — Kain/Cecil, Kain/Rosa, Cecil/Rosa, Kain/Cecil/Rosa — G, 1.5K]

In the old forgotten passageways beneath Baron Castle the walls exhale ghosts like vaporous winter breath: a fine spice on a hunt for treasure, harmless old haunts that feather around them as they creep down the halls with their stolen torch, their voices a nervous-laughing titter of echoes.

When the revenant comes Kain's blood freezes and he sees the panicked bloom of Rosa's untutored magic, shielding them; Kain's lips parting in awe and breathlessness as they flee.

But as they tumble back down the halls, to light and safety and a likely spanking, it is Cecil who clutches his hand.

11. Where Memory Rests

[Thief: Deadly Shadows — Garrett, The Shalebridge Cradle — G, 2.3K]

Thick exhales of steam crowd the night air, damp on your skin, as you make your way through the noise and shadows of the City. Grit has gathered close to the walls where you walk, giving the soft sound of your steps a rougher edge. Your fingers trail where a gas arrow once crystallized: a pipe carrying hot air hisses quietly at the leak. Magic lies thick in the air since the Final Glyph, dispersed and unformed. You can feel it in your hand. It washes across the red new scar like warm breath, like the air trickling from the pipe. The elemental crystals form faster, now, and someone harvested this one before you.

It doesn't matter. You have other things on your mind tonight.

And besides, you can always get it back.

12. the silent fulcrum in the interstice

[Kingdom Hearts — Kairi & Riku & Sora, Kairi & Naminé — G, 1.2K]

It begins with her hands: she plunges them into the place where earth meets sea meets sky. The light falls fragile across the grains, soft contrast to their coarse texture against her palms, her bare knees. The damp sand is heavy in her palms and something stirs in her as she pauses, hands suspended, full of infinite possibilities: This is how worlds are created, she thinks. Memories, falling like sand, like stars, like snow (where does she remember snow from?); she pauses, hands suspended, full of infinite worlds.

She can't remember the last time she did this, or maybe she never stopped: this is where she sat and stitched together a star, a promise; this is where she stood and watched the horizon and waited, or tried to remember what she was waiting for. The sand is heavy in her hands, and she wonders if this is any different, or if it is all reconstruction and remembering.

This is how worlds are created, and she sinks her fingers into the sand.

13. Same As It Never Was (cowritten with @sevdrag)

[Final Fantasy VIII — Rinoa/Squall, Laguna/Squall, Quistis/Rinoa, Kiros/Laguna, Quistis/Rinoa/Squall — E, 72K, WIP]

“I’m sorry, Commander, sir,” the waiter said over Squall's shoulder, “but we don’t have that particular vintage — our sincere apologies. Can I recommend another bottle — on the house, of course?”

Squall tried not to grit his teeth— too hard, anyway, because they were already grinding a little at the waiter’s placating, admiring, sorry-to-your-famous-personage-please-be-kind tone. He glanced up. Rinoa was smiling at him, that smile of hers that carried beaming wattage like a Thundaga to the chest, and even though it still made his heart skip a beat he could read in it what neither of them was saying: her hesitation playing across her face, the tense strain of her smile even as his own lips quirked back in response.

“Not a problem,” he said, aware that his voice was gruff and sounded irritated; maybe everyone would assume he was aggravated about the wine.

14. Coward Heart

[Final Fantasy X — Auron & Braska & JechtI — G, 3.6K]

The caves cast light back at them, fractured reflections and the rock's own native glow: the water was still and star-littered, pinpricks of light beneath a surface so motionless that Auron could barely tell where water ended and the pressing dark of the caverns began. All the light should have illumed the air, but the icy breath of the place seemed nearly solid, swallowing the light before it could reveal more than it hid. Auron had drawn his sword long ago, its rasp loud and echo-inhaled. Even the fiends glowed, here, great gelid flans with galaxies glittering inside them, dissolving into pyreflies like gentle novas.

Auron's gaze slid to Braska. In the gloaming, Braska's eyes seemed wide and white, his robes silver-edged black, all the careful distinctions of colour — red, for mourning; purple, for hope; blue, for seas and skies — lost in the half-light. Jecht was a suffocated flame beside him, the leaping fish on his sarong like the empty spaces between licks of fire as he shrugged off the wool-lined jacket Braska had finally convinced him to wear.

15. Disconnect

[Final Fantasy VIII / Kingdom Hearts — Maleficent & Squall — G, 3.7K]

He opens his eyes to the sight of water falling up. The spray coats his face, his clothes— he tries to sit up and make sure Lionheart is dry in its sheath and realizes that everything, everywhere, hurts.

(Rinoa.)

He makes it to his feet, checks on Lionheart. The gunblade survived the trip, maybe in better shape than Squall had. He flexes his hands, staring at them. They still feel numb. (Did it hurt you like this? Your magic?) His spells are gone, eaten up by the trip from Traverse Town. He hadn't counted on this exhaustion. (Yeah, and Cid had said it was impossible and called me an idiot. Whatever.)

It doesn't matter. He heaves himself away from the rocks he'd been leaning on, and starts climbing.

Analysis, I guess?

Okay well the immediate thing I notice is that I used the word "interstice" twice in this set of titles and that's just mortifying.

Decent mix of fandoms! 14 fandoms counting crossovers, although 8 were Final Fantasy of some kind.

I counted 6 past tense intros (though one of those fics switches to present tense halfway through, which is 15K words past the opening lines), and 9 present tense ones. That's a 2:3 ratio of past to present, and I actually had never realized I wrote in present tense this much. In the grand scheme of fiction writing, past tense is heavily more common so I guess this sample puts me in the... minority? I find present tense more immediate. I rarely actively CONSIDER which tense to use, I just start writing in whatever FEELS right for the idea. The first story where I actively considered tense was "Acclimating", the most recent story on here. Whoops >.>

Also I don't tend to open with dialogue. For short fics (less than 10K) I tend to write mostly in order, and I find writing dialogue difficult, so I tend to kind of "settle in" with a story by writing description first, and only after I'm properly settled try some dialogue. There were only 4 stories with dialogue in the opening lines here, and only 2 that actually had dialogue as the first thing in the story.

Fewer em dashes than I expected, as I know I overuse those. But not, apparently, in the opening lines. I wait until the reader is settled in/committed before pulling that shit on them.

I seem to vary between starting in the middle of things vs. doing a bit of setup. I couldn't really pin numbers to this one, as it's a bit more nebulous. For example the very first sentence of "This Stolen Interstice" (that word again, shoot me now) is in medias res, but then I back up to a bit of scene-setting. So who even knows!

Anyway, this was a fun exercise!

[mystery-deer]

Dinner and a Show

“Homer.” “Oh, yeah! D'oh!” Kevin looked at Peralta as if perplexed by his existence. Like him being there, breathing, talking, was a scientific anomaly. Jake laughed softly and repeated the earlier noise in a much more deflated manner. “I was speaking of the odyssey.” “Of course…classiiic.” Raymond decided to rescue Peralta from this embarrassment by redirecting the conversation to more equal waters.

“Santiago,” he started, ignoring her small jump at her name. “Peralta tells me you enjoy travel?” He stopped there, not delighting in small talk. Amy smiled and her knuckles went white where she was clutching a fork. “Yes um…well I don’t get much. Out much! I mostly just…because the…job.” Raymond wondered why the presence of him and his husband made his (normally extremely competent and exemplary) detectives choke and die. Kevin pushed a vegetable he had a disdain for around on his plate. Raymond felt like leaving or just calling everything off abruptly. This had originally been a squad dinner (plus Kevin, since Raymond’s house was decidedly “the bomb”) but after a series of shenanigans that resulted in Jeffords(mental health day), Gina(Dance show) and Boyle(Food poisoning) canceling only Peralta and Santiago made it. Raymond was beginning to wish they hadn’t.

“I heard from Gina that you and Santiago recently took a dance lesson?” Kevin chimed in to stall eating the Brussels sprouts on his plate (even though during the preparation of dinner Raymond had asked him several times if he really wanted Brussels sprouts. He didn’t understand why he kept trying to convince himself that he liked them.) “Uh, yeah and we totally killed it! I guess the god of dance really did bless this stone.” Peralta said wistfully, holding up an ordinary rock that had been dunked in glitter. “Where did you get that?” Raymond asked, his eyebrows scrunched together in an expression that could be anger or confusion. “Ha, wouldn’t you like to know? I never reveal my sources captain!” Raymond didn’t comment that earlier Gina had come into his office claiming the very same rock was a ‘magic love rock’ blessed by Taylor Swift herself. When Raymond had pointed out that there was no way that was real and told her to go do actual work she’d grumbled with her expression frighteningly neutral that she’d just find “some other sucker.” Apparently she had been successful.

“Santiago are you alright? You’ve been awfully quiet.” Kevin asked, finally taking the initiative to skewer a Brussel sprout but not lifting the fork. “So have you sir!” “What?” “Uh oh.” Peralta said, his mouth morphing into a nervous smile while Santiago looked like she was ready to bolt. “Do you have something to say Santiago?” Raymond asked, his protective streak rearing its head. He had noticed Kevin’s peculiar mood as well but knew better than to remark on it while in company. “I…nno?” She tried, overwhelmed by first the layer of awkward tension and now being confronted by two of her idols. “Amy just..Uh.. So have you sir is the name of a screen play she’s writing and-” “I need to use the restroom!” Amy said hurriedly, usually able to overcome her fears and speak semi-freely around her captain after all the time spent together but Kevin, Kevin AND the Captain! It made her head spin.

“Amydontleavem- well I guess here we are…just me and you, two of me and one of yo- nope. That can’t be right.” Raymond saw Kevin glance at Peralta’s wine glass and excused himself, stating he needed to check on Santiago as she had seemed distressed.

He went towards the nearest bathroom and found only Cheddar, who they had kept downstairs because of an unfortunate accident that left his paw sore. The dog waddled toward him happily and Raymond spared a moment to pet him before gently placing him back in his doggy bed and closing the door.

He found Amy by tip toeing around his house, avoiding being seen and called back by his husband or Peralta and eventually finding her on their back steps, smoking a cigarette. “Tense, isn’t it?” The poor woman jumped nearly a foot before sighing in relief and waving away her smoke. “Sorry for leaving Captain I just needed-” “A break? I understand.” He sat down next to her and ignored her shocked and pleased gasp. “It’s difficult.” He didn’t elaborate but felt illogically that she understood. She nodded and they sat in amicable silence, smoke floating around them like a protective blanket.

After 20 minutes there was a commotion that sent the two of them scrambling inside towards the direction of their screaming partners. “Jake!?” “Kevin!?” Raymond found the dining room a frightening mess, dishes splattered across the floor and the two men standing on their newly upholstered chairs looking fearfully at the ground. “RAT!!” Screamed Jake, waving his arms around. “Jake? Since when were you scared of rats?” Amy asks, scanning the floor. Her hands are clasped behind her back and shaking. “Since always!?” Jake exclaimed, shocked. “I know I seem like a super cool bad boy but I hate rats Amy they’re hideous little bastards with a thirst for blood and piss!”

Kevin was quietly perched on his chair looking for any signs of movement and to Raymond he looked like an owl or a mighty eagle finding its prey. Raymond lifted his husband up into his arms and set him by Amy before returning for Peralta whose face lit up when he saw him approach. With everyone out of the dining room Raymond turned to Amy. “I know this isn’t what we planned for the night but do you want to…” “Kill the bastard that scared them?” Amy asked, jerking her head back to where Jake was cowering and Kevin was exiting towards the restroom where Cheddar was concealed. “Absolutely, sir.” Raymond grinned.

Once the two of them were fully suited in their extermination gear (a series of miscellaneous items from his house taped onto their bodies) and wielding whatever Rat killing items they could find (febreeze and brooms) they entered the dining room with murder in their eyes. They waited patiently, eyes vigilant, for any signs of the rodent and after a long silence were ready to say that it had escaped.

Then they heard the squeak.

It was a long and hard won battle that further destroyed the dining room (though not irrevocably) but at the end of it Raymond slammed his shoe down on the beast’s tail and laughed triumphantly. “Gotcha…punk!” Amy chopped its head off with her broom and they both tried to get the sound and sight of a decapitated rat out of their heads. “Didja kill it?” Jake asked, returning from wherever he’d been. “I heard the Captain say 'punk’ so…” “The beast has indeed been vanquished Peralta. Do you know where my husband is?” “Oh yeah, in the bathroom. Me and him were playing with Cheddar and talking about dogs.” “You got to talk about dogs? No fair!” “You’re allergic to dogs?” “I killed a rat!” “And we all love you for it!” Peralta kissed her cheek and she smiled softly so Raymond left the vicinity before he could witness any more of their rat killing based flirting.

“Kevin? Why are you hiding in here?” Kevin was petting Cheddar whom he had allowed to sit on his lap. “I don’t like rodents.” “I know.” “How did it get…” He frowned deeply. “Is our house filthy Raymond?” Raymond blinks. He didn’t know how much his husband truly cared about their house. “This place, it’s supposed to be safe.” He didn’t elaborate and didn’t have to, Raymond hugged him and ignored Cheddar’s happy panting. “Raymond…” “The rat most likely crawled into my bag from work. It’s not because of you.” “It’s not because of you either Raymond.” “Do you think Cheddar could eat a rat?” “I don’t want to imagine it.” “With a name like that, wouldn’t the rats eat him?” There was a beat of silence before Kevin began laughing and Raymond’s heart skipped a beat. He wanted to thank him for caring so much about him and them and their comfort and everything he’d made a house mean and for giving Peralta a chance. For opening himself up to be hurt because he knew it took a lot for his husband to do that and in the moment he was reminded that loved Kevin with everything he had. A fact that sometimes faded into the background noise of his life put front and center.

Peralta knocked on the door. “Hey, so dinner was eventful but we’re gonna skedaddle now cause it’s getting late.” Amy poked her head in, smiling. “Dinner was delicious!”

Kevin hurriedly rushed the woman away from the door and Raymond smiled, he had remembered her allergies. “Peralta, thank you for joining my husband and me for dinner. I’m sorry you had a bad experience.” “It wasn’t exactly bad captain! But we should really call an exterminator to the precinct.” “It wasn’t bad? Weren’t you frightened out of your mind?” “I wasn’t that scared! Besides, I have a kickass girlfriend who will decapitate anything that scares me! Rats, roaches, taxes, not that last one but you get it!” Raymond nodded because he DID get it. As he stood on his front steps, Kevin’s arm wrapped around his waist as they waved goodbye to their dinner guests he knew exactly what Peralta meant. When he was with Kevin even mundane or bad things became bearable, became opportunities to show each other how much they were loved and cared for. Even a rat became an excuse for romance and that, he supposed, was love.

[fearofaherobrine]

Roleplay Sever Log #148

“Attack on the Manor”

[Solace] -Peaks head in from a different room, quickly looking over everyone and the situation-

[Splender] - I think it would be best to take brother to his room and let him rest...

[Solace] That would be a good idea.

[Luna] Peeks out from behind Solace-

[CP] - Yeah, but first we have to get Doc to let go of him

[Solace] How hard would that be? -Enters the room proper-

[CP] - Doc is drunk and a giant dragon, you tell me

[Solace] We could probably peel them off...

[CP] Scoffs- Good luck with that, Doc can change their body so you will pass right through it

[Lie] - CP...- She grips his shirt her nerves starting to fray

[Solace] Hmm - looks at lie and tilts his head. He can tell she's distressed-

[CP] Growls at Solace a little- Stay away from my mate

[Solace] Why is age upset? - Just winning his hands a bit. Doesn't seem to have processed this was Cp's mate yet]

[CP] - She's not used to these sorts of places at all, she shouldn't even be here

[Solace] Well, if she would like  and you don't mind, she could come into the next room and help Luna and I fold clothes. It's much calmer and nicer there.

[Lie] Grips CP's shirt s bit tighter, not certain about being separated from her husband-

[Solace] -Seems to study Lie carefully before nodding.- You can stay here if you'd like, but the offer stands, miss. -turns to return to the other room, knowing Slender was going to be fine-

[CP] - Come on Lie, focus, don't you have anything that could help right now? What about some of your calming flowers?

[Lie] M-maybe?- She tried focusing on her powers to spawn a calming flower

[CP] - That's it, just focus, listen to my voice and focus on spawning one of your calming flowers

[Offender] - So who's the babe?

[Doc] was making funny faces at Slender since he doesn't have one- she's the babe with the power... Flower power!

[Offender] - ah, she wouldn't happen to be the infamous mate of Herobrine we've heard about, would she?

[Doc] Thaaat she is but I am zhe infamous one!

[Doc] Fixer of anything put in front of me and professhional pasta botherer. - hic-

[Offender] - How about you let go of my brother there and we can keep talking?

[Doc] Why? Hesssh doing okay. I ain't hurting him. Ain't that right Slendie? My friends ill tell you, Immma comfy dragon, all fuzzy.

[Offender] -Yes but I know my brother, and he'd be happier in his bed

[Doc] Narrows hir eyes at him- I shink you just donn trust me.

[Offender] - Now what makes you say that?

[Doc] Because he doesn't trust me. - points a claw at Slender - Jest shinks Imma a Imma kid or somethin.

[Offender] - Well compared to us age wise? You kinda are

[Doc] Huffs- age isn't everything. Awww.... shit.. I jest remembered. Slendie? I got bad news. Can you hear mmme?

[Offender] - Pretty sure he's out of it dude

[Doc] Then I got a little time before he yells at me then. Isss okay. - Xe rolls hir head against the floor. - blargh.

[Lie] has spawned a few calming flowers-

[CP] - Doc, just let Slender go

[Doc] Meeeh. Okay, jest because you asked Cp. - Xe rolls over with a few angluar contortions and leaves Slender sitting in the middle of a loose circle of hir body. - If he stabs me or somethin I'm gonna swat your ass Cp.

[CP] - Yeah, pretty sure Lie could use your attentions more

[Doc] Scuttles along the floor and nuzzles Lie with hir snout. Hir eyes are bleary. - You need me?

[Lie] Is still trembling and gripping CP's shirt-

[Doc] Shhhh - Xe curls around them and lays hir fluff across Lie's chest - If anybody lays a finger on my buddies I'll do somethin terrible to em, yus.

[Offender] Jumps up and grabs his brother while he had the opportunity-

[Doc] Don't get all weird Offie, I patched him up good. I might, might be able to make him some new tentacles if those don't grow back. -hic-

[Offender] - Oh they'll grow back, they always do, I'm just gonna take him to his room for now

[Doc] Sweet dreams Slendie.

[Offender] Teleports of with Slender-

[Doc] Is just warmly cuddling Cp and Lie.

[CP] Is resisting punching Doc since he knows it's safer for Doc to be with him-

[Doc] Gives Lie's hair a smooch - Leetle Floof is safe with big dragon.

[Lie] Quietly- Thank you Doc

[Doc] Grins hugely - -hic-

[Doc] Dooes anybody else need tending Splender?

[Splender] - I don't know...  Anne?

[Anne] - The Master said the only ones not injured were Jane, Locklear, and now these two- Motions to CP and Jeff

[Jeff] - Speaking of, what should I be doing now?

[Splender] - You, Smile, and CP should head out there and get to killing, we need to get the SCP out of the woods so we can move them

[Doc] Go ahead Cp, protect your family, I'll keep Lie safe.

[CP] - But...- He looks down at where Lie is clutching his shirt

[Doc] Trust me.

[CP] Knowing he can't get Lie to let go he sighs as he slips out of his shirt, letting Lie keep it.  He stands up and Honedge floats up higher, having attached itself to his leg again- Let's go Jeff

[Jeff] - About time- He draws his knives, letting the light glint off of them

[Luna] Comes in just as the two leave through a side door, she has a warm fuzzy blanket draped over one arm and mugs of peppermint tea in her hands.  She shifts nervously before approaching Doc and Lie-

- Solace watches from the door Luna entered from, hands clasped together patiently-

[Luna] - Uh...  Um...  Here...- She puts the mugs down next to them and drapes the blankets over them

[Doc] Looks at the woman blearily - I know you... So glad you didn't get eaten. Thank you for the stuff- Xe sticks out hir long tongue and uses it like a tentacle to wrap the mug and pour a little of the hot liquid in hir mouth.

[Lie] Barely notices as she curls up closer to Doc-

[Splender] - We can give you two a moment, then you could stay in CP's room?

[Anne] - So long as they're out of my way while I work

[Doc] I'm not sure I'll fit unless I change and I can give her better snuggles this way. I'd rather stay put.

[Doc] Angry floof doesn't like it when I get my smell on her, and I'm sure my coat smells of a dozen different things plus Deerheart

[Splender] Can't help but giggle at the mention of angry floof while Anne gives them a confused glance-

[Doc] Gives Splender a tipsy wink.

[Doc] Do ya thing orphan Annie

[Offender] Teleports back down- Alright, brother's all squared away, where do you want me Anne?

[Doc] is laughing- naked? With or without the chainsaw?

[Anne] - Be ready to close most wounds, I'll only have time to deal with minor ones.  We could deal with more if we had EJ here but he's watching Sally

[Offender] Sputters out a laugh- Oh I've thought about it, but brother would have my head if I went after one of his proxies!

[Doc] is spawning splash potions and pushes them over with a paw - hahah you said head!

[Offender] - Oooh!  What are these?

[Doc] more of what I used on your bro, just dribble it on

[Offender] - Cool...

[Lie] Shifts uncomfortably as her subconscious recognizes Offender's voice-

[Doc] puts hir front paws around Lie protectively

[Lie] Holds CP's shirt closer to herself-

[Splender] - I'll get a bit of food ready for those who need it!

[Solace] -Quietly, from the doorway- I've got drinks handled.

[Splender] - Oh wonderful!  Thank you Solace

[Solace] It's nothing, Splendor. Least I could do.

[Splender] Goes into the kitchen humming-

[Doc] Sends some loud thoughts towards Lie to see if she wants to talk-

[Lie] Barely manages to look at Doc, there's obvious distress in her eyes as she struggles to find words-

[Doc] Looks a bit more focused from the inside of hir head- don't worry Lie, I won't let them get you

[Lie] - This place...  Doc... I don't know...

[Doc] I don't like it either, I'd likely be more frightened without this liquid courage in my system.

[Lie] Shudders and moves a bit closer to Doc-

[Doc] And I think would be bad to try and keep Cp from helping them clear the woods

[Lie] - I know, but I feel like I could start hearing her voice at any moment...

[Doc] Frankly, fuck that bitch. Dawn taught me how to make holy water just as good as hers, I'll dunk you if I have too

[Lie] - Thanks...

-There's a brief burst of static as Trender arrives with a few injured pasta's, the sleeves of his own clothes torn and blood dripping down his arm.  There's human blood all over his own clothes-

[Trender] - Anne, here's your first batch

[Doc] watches with obvious curiosity

[Anne] Springs into action, checking injuries and passing a few of them over to Offender for him to drool on.  She works quickly, showing a good grasp of medical skills as she works, bandaging and stitching wounds shut as she works as quickly as she can.  Some of the pasta's immediately rush back out to go back to fighting-

[Doc] Nice work Anne, very efficient

[Anne] Flips Doc off as she works-

[Doc] Sheesh... Don't be like that, I'll help if you want. -whispers to Lie - you can just lay in my hair if they need me, it'll keep you out of harms way

[Lie] Her breath hitches as her eyes widen a little in fear- No, don't leave

[Offender] - Nah, we got this covered

[Doc] I wouldn't leave you, I'd put you on top of my head, you could just snuggle down as safe as silverfish in a spawner block

[Lie] - Just...  Just don't leave...

[Doc] Never, and I have an idea. I kinda made this as.... A  decoration toy for Deerheart... But you can use it- Xe equips hirself with a saddle and rolls Lie into the stirrups.

[Lie] - Doc...  Do I want to know why you have this for Deer?

[Doc] Hir cheeks go a little pink and hir smile is coy and slightly embarrassed - she's uh.... Really liking her new body for playtime

[Lie] - DOC!

[Offnder] Having overheard- You know I have a number of toys you may find interesting then~

[Doc] She's a kinky little thing... I'm sure you do....

[Offender] - You're welcome to look through it

[Anne] - Offender focus!

[Doc] I'll consider it. But just know I'm talking about my beloved mate, not a victim.

[Offender] - Even better~

[Anne] - OFFENDER!

[Trender] Has stitched his own wound shut- I'm going out to see who else needs to be brought here

[Doc] Nods in appreciation of trenders nicely spaced stitches

[Offender] - Hey bro, guess what?  No pants

[Trender] - Oh for fucks sake, OFFENDER WHY!?

[Doc] Ah so what? I don't have any pants on either, wooo! No pants!

[Offender] - HA!  YES!  A BROTHER IN ARMS!

[Doc] Haha! Hey world! Make a wish on my dragon balls!

[Offender] Laughs- Mine could be bigger

[Doc] Beckons Offender closer with a single claw-

[Offender] Starts walking closer-

[Anne] - Offender!  Focus you asshole!

[Doc] Whispers to him. - I can pop mine off and replace them with a puss or as big a dick as I want.

[Offender] - I know that trick too

[Doc] You're modular?! Holy crapola! Did you build your body from scratch too?

[Offender] - Nope, all natural slender being~

[Doc] Digital here. You ever played with Legos? This whole body was built from 1x1x1 pixel bits.

[Offender] - Sweet

[Trender] - Offender, right now your healing skills are more important than anything else, SO GET TO WORK!

[Offender] - Oh fiiiine...  Spoil sport...

[Doc] Creeps along the floor a little closer so xe can watch-

[Offender] Approaches Bloody Painter who has a gash in his leg and opens his mouth, his tongue lolling out, dripping with black saliva. He runs his tongue over the wound, letting it quickly heal-

[Doc] Muttering- that's useful.

[Offender] - Can heal terminal diseases too

[Doc] Hmmm. Would you mind if I took a sample? When you're not busy?

[Offender] - It won't work, once it leaves my body it disintegrates in less than a minute.  I have purposefully let some people experiment with it just to see if they could get it to last, and they cant

[Doc] But I have somethin they don't, it's called an inventory.

[Offender] - I doubt it would work, I've asked the digital pastas to try that and it didn't work for tem, we think it's because of our natural affects on anything electronic

[Doc] That wasn't a no? I like a challenge.

[Offender] - You can try, but not now, I really should be focusing on others

[Doc] I'll work on something to hold it. Don't worry, I'll stay out of the way.

[Offender] Returns to his work-

[Doc] Trots a bit back from the activities and drops a command block.   Hir claws clicking softly on the top of it. After a bit xe pulls out a trunk as well and starts to shove the command block roughly inside of it. Melting it slightly to make it fit.

[Lie] Prods at Doc- Is there, someplace else here we can go?  Please?

[Doc] I don't think so.... I don't know my way around and this is probably where Cp will look for us when he comes back. I'm sure he'll need a little patching up. You know how reckless he is. - Xe sweeps some of the remaining healing flowers off the surface of the carpet and melts them on the surface of the command block in a rough bowl shape. - Besides I'd have to start over. Please Lie, you'll be okay, just hang on to me, it seems like they're too busy to mess with us anyway.

[Lie] Whimpers a little as she cuddles closer to Doc-

[Lie] Feels something bump against her leg and looks down with a little jump, there's a red and black cat there giving her a curious look, it has a sharp tooth grin stretched across it's face as it starts to crawl into her lap with a small purr-

[Doc] Wiggles a bit as the cat jumps up and turns back - A cat?

[Grinny] Looks at Doc before curling up in Lie's lap-

[Lie] - Didn't CP mention one before?  Grinny I think he said it was named?

[Doc] Just caught me off guard, be careful.

[Lie] - I'll try to be...

[CP] Comes rushing back in, a wide grin on his face as his torso is covered in blood before he quickly jumps through the tv, he's back out moments later with the baby wither- It's been far too long since I've used him

[Lie] - CP...

[Doc] Well then.... At least he's smiling right? And it's nobody we know....

[CP] Is about to head out the door when he switches directions and makes a beeline for Lie- Hey, you alright?  Oh, hey Grinny

[Grinny] Mews-

[Doc] I'm keeping an eye on her, she's just nervous, understandably. I was talking to Offender for a bit.

[CP] - Just keep Lie away from him- He's handling a bit of Lie's hair while the baby wither makes noises as it sniffs the couch in the room

[Doc] I know. You know I won't allow anything non-consentual in my presence.

[CP] - Still, if anything happens to her...

[Lie] Reaches up to cup CP's face- Just hurry back, please

[CP] - I'll do my best, hopefully this will clear things out quickly

[Wither] Hisses at a bit of garbage under the couch-

[Doc] Don't you worry your pretty little pixels Cp. She's tight in my saddle and that's where she'll stay.

[CP] - I'm not even going to ask...  Do you remember where my room is?

[Doc] Noooo, but I'm kinda doing something and I can't move it now. - Indicates the mildly mangled command block in the open chest. There's a slightly glowing mass of greenish pixels pulsing on top of it.

[CP] Sighs in irritation- Go through that doorway over there into the main foyer, go up he stairs and turn left.  My door is recognizable

[Doc] Red torch, blue door. That I remember.

[CP] - Good- He gives Lie a quick kiss before picking up the baby wither and heading outside with it

[Doc] What no kiss for me?

[CP] - Fuck no

[Offender] - I'll kiss ya

[Doc] I was just fucking with mah buddy, Offender. But I'm ready for you if you can spare a drop.

[Offender] - Lets wait until we've finished this scuffle with the SCP, I'll be needing a lot of my saliva

[Doc] Don't forget you can use the potions I gave you. I've got cold slime stuff for burns too.

[CP] Once outside he sets the wither down and activates it's glitched code.  It spazzes before growing, it's body several times larger than that of a normal wither.  It's neck are long and move like a snake.  The heads look lupine with large fangs- Go ahead, go hunt

[Wither] Roars and lifts off up into the air, it's roar loud enough to vibrate the building and trees as it looks for prey-

[Doc] There's goes Cp's pet.... Hopefully it will at least move this debaucle along.

[Anne] Goes to find more bandages-

[Lie] Draws the blanket closer to herself-

[Doc] Hey Lie, - xe's trying to distract her- Look at this- The mush on the command block is twirling up under hir claws like a pot on a wheel and opens into a shape like a taco shell with teeth.

[Lie] - What is it supposed to be?

[Doc] Functionally? A container. The shell shape opens like a venus flytrap and there's a glassy looking well in the center of the jaws.

[Lie] - Interesting...- She reaches out with her own powers to see if she can mimic the shape with an actual plant

[Doc] Easy there, it's already made out of healing flower mush. Wait until I fill it up, then you can play with it.

[Lie] - I'm just trying to mimic the shape, perhaps with a succulent?  Their leaves are thicker

[Doc] It kinda looks like a more delicate version of your offensive plant anyway.

[Lie] - True...  I wouldn't mind having that here now, but I know how you feel about it...

-There are large explosions from the forest-

[Doc] Yeah and I don't think Offender should see it...

[Lie] - Good point- She starts idly petting Grinny

[Grinny] Purrs-

[Doc] Turns back to see how the Pastas are doing with their patients.

[Anne] Has returned with more bandages and more pasta's have arrived, including Jane-

[Doc] Hi Jane. - Waves sweetly-

[Offender] Is herding the pastas to spots they can sit to be worked on.  Trender suddenly returns with Jeff under his arm-

[Anne] - Jeff, you've barely been out there, what happened?

[Jeff] - Shut up!

[Trender] - He got shot in the ass

[Jane] Starts laughing-

[Doc] pfft. Jeff, you're digital. Come over here. I'll fix it.

[Jeff] - No!  Fuck no!

[Offender] - You'd rather I'd drool on it?

[Doc] Come on. I won't even tease you.

[Jeff] - NO!

[Trender] Irritated with Jeff he simply tosses him at Doc-

[Doc] Stays low to the floor and catches him neatly before he can hit the rug. - Just sit still for a sec

[Jeff] - FUCK OFF!

[Doc] Xe lifts up a foot and extends two claws into skinny points. Xe Pokes them into the remaining mush on the block and then wiggles them like tweezers into his little wound

[Jeff] - THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?

[Jane] Is laughing harder-

[Doc] Makes a tiny pinch and pulls the bullet out, xe lets it fall next to him and smooths over the wound, closing it neatly with the back of hir paw.

[Jeff] - FUCKER!

[Doc] Smooths over his pants too, closing the little rip and sets him on his feet. - There you go. All better.

[Jeff] - I will fucking murder you!- He turns and raises his knife towards Doc

[Doc] Gives him a little push so he falls on the floor. - Rude.

[Jeff] Is very mad-

[Doc] Don't you have some more little army guys to murder outside? Take it out on them.

[Jeff] - CP's wither has taken out a majority of them

[Doc] That's good... well, for you guys.

[Lie] - So we'll be able to go home soon?

[Jeff] Shrugs-

[Doc] I say yes.

[Offender] - Hey Trender, who all is out there?

[Trender] - Herobrine, Judge Angel, Locklear, Smile, Seed Eater, and Strider

[Offender] - Go check on them, if they're areas are clear than bring them back.  The SCP should be almost completely gone by now

[Doc] Is just watching Offender, waiting for a chance to bug him again.

[Trender] Teleports off to check on those mentioned-

[Offender] Sighs and pushes his hat back a bit- Guess all we can do now is wait...

[Doc] Makes a small cough-

[Offender] - Hm?  Oh, right- He approaches Doc

[Doc] Okay, - Xe scoots behind the block and puts hir paws on either side of the back of the trunk - Just work up a good gob and spit in the center of the jaws. - The greenish pod is open and vibrating lightly.

[Offender] Takes a second before spitting- As it hits the inside of the pod already a quarter of it has dissolved into nothing-

-The plant snaps shut and Doc slaps the lid down on top of the block, there's a bit of light from the inside of it and a long stream of paper, thickly printed with codes, starts ribboning out from the front of it and gathering on the floor like an accordian. -

[Doc] Crawls on top of the trunk and picks up the end of the paper, speed reading what looks like nonsense - fascinating.... Thank you.

[Offender] - Sure...

[Trender] Returns with about half the group, the rapid succession of teleports is starting to take it's toll on him-

[Doc] Notices his faltering and motions for him to come over.

[Trender] - Sorry, but I don't have the time, I need to get the others

[Doc] Take this- Gives him a healing potion - I promise it tastes better then Cps.

[Trender] Looks at it in confusion-

[Doc] Just drink it. Or pour it over your head if you can't do that. It won't stain clothes.

[Trender] - No thank you, I just need to feed some, but I appreciate the offer- He teleports off again

[Doc] Stubborn....

[Offender] - Eh, it's one of the few traits we all share

[Anne] Has finished wrapping Jane's wounds-

[Jane] - So who's going to move the woods since Slender is out of commission?

[Offender] - Probably Splender, he's used none of his energy since getting here so he's really the only one that can...

This message has been removed.

[Trender] Comes back with everyone but CP who comes back on his own with the baby wither-

[Doc] Have fun Cp?

[CP] Is covered in blood- Very much so

[Doc] And the little guy?

[CP] - Exhausted

[Doc] Dawww. He's so cute. Who beat the shit out of everyone? You did!

[CP] - Dooooooooc...- He puts the wither down and turns towards Lie

[Doc] Lays flat against the floor so Lie is on Cp's eye level.

[Lie] Reaches over, not even caring that CP's covered in blood, she just wants to be in the safety of his arms-

[Grinny] Jumps off her lap-

[CP] Takes Lie and holds her close-

[Doc] Quietly puts the saddle and the trunk with the papers away-

[Trender] - The woods are clear

[Offender] - Hey Splender!  It's your turn!

[Splender] - On it!- An eerie silence fills the manor and it almost seems to vibrate a little.  The air gets colder as it starts to snow outside.  There's a shift in the air as well

[Doc] Vibrates lightly, xe's pretty much sober now.

[CP] - Come on, let's get cleaned up- He starts leading Lie out of the room

[Doc] Kind of hops up and shapeshifts back to hir human form before running after them - Wait for me!

[CP] Leads them out into the main foyer and up the stairs to his room.  He opens it and notes that the linens on his bed have been cleaned and changed thanks to Solace.  He ignores that and opens the door to the bathroom.  He looks down at his mate- Do you want to share or go by yourself?

[Lie] - Don't leave me...

[CP] - Fine, come on.  Doc?  You gonna be okay in here by yourself for a few minutes?

[Doc] Yeah, I'll just... I'll just stay right here.

[CP] - You can check on the server via my computer over there if you want

[Doc] Thank you. Is there a password?

[CP] Steps into the bathroom with Lie- No, the others are usually to scared of me to fuck with my stuff- He then shut the door and after a moment the sound of water could be heard

[Doc] Sighs and looks around for a moment, xe gathers up the little wither and puts it in hir lap as xe sits down. The sounds of the computer spinning up is like music to hir ears and xe logs in on their server with hir usual account before typing in the chat- Deerheart, I'm just logging in remotely. I had to step out suddenly to help the creepypastas. Everyone is safe, I'll be home as soon as I can. I love you.

[Deer] - I saw Lie left too, is she okay?

[Doc] She got bumped in by Smile. She's scared but Cp and I are sticking close to her. Physically she's fine.

[Deer] - Good, everything is fine here, Sally and EJ are at our place because the chests where Splender keeps the food is too high for them to reach

[Doc] Gets a little shiver - You knew where the pies were I suppose? Since Ej has such a... specific diet? Please be careful of him.

[Deer] - I am being careful, don't worry.  I'm more concerned about you right now

[Doc] I'm scared too my love. But it's going to be okay. I said a few stupid things while drunk but I don't think the repercussions will go beyond getting yelled at later.

[Deer] - I hope that's the case.  I need to go now, Sally wants some desert

[Doc] Take care, mwah- Xe logs off and stares at the start menu for a long moment. The small yellow text is just an elipses and it perfectly encapsulates hir feelings of trepidation for what will come next.

-After several moments the sound of water stops and both CP and Lie step out of the bathroom.  Both simply have towels around them as CP opens his wardrobe.  He hands Lie one of his shirts and starts getting dressed himself-

[Doc] Just kind of hugs the wither, forgetting it's not a stuffed animal or hir rather placid cat LH.

[Wither] Is too out of it to respond-

[CP] Looks outside- It's getting late, we might as well rest here for the night...  Splender will have a few things he need to do here too...

[Doc] Do we... have to?

[CP] - I might be able to open a portal long enough for you to get into the digital realm, but I'm pretty tired myself

[Doc] Swallows hard, - o-okay... - Xe takes out a crafting table and begins doing the familar layout for a bed.

[CP] Pulls Lie over to his old bed, noting the snow outside- It's gonna be cold tonight.  Normally I'd be downstairs where it's warmer, but since we actually plan on sleeping...  We might wanna stuff the edges of the window...

[Doc] I could just shapeshift and fill the room?

[CP] - Doc, pretty sure this room is a bit to small for that

[Doc] That's why I said fill. If you open the door to the bathroom I might be able to fit.

[CP] - Doc, no, we'll stuff the window, it will be fine.  Besides if we do need to move quickly your form will inhibit that.  And with an angry Jeff here I'd think you'd want to be able to move fast

[Doc] Shivers, - okay, then I'll just do this - Xe takes out more wool blocks and piles them in a wall in front of the window. Then xe takes a hunk of bedrock and puts it squarely in front of the door.

[CP] - Not necessary but okay- After a few moments his body temperature brings the room up to a comfortable heat

[Doc] Drags the extra bed as close to his as they think they can get away with and lays down on top of it. Doc curls into a little ball. Xe's shivering only partly from the remaining cold in hir body.

[CP] Pulls Lie under his covers, holding her close and whispering soothing things to her until she falls asleep-

[Doc] Is slipping into a fitful sleep and makes a small, pained noise.

[CP] Hears it but doesn't know what to do so he tosses a spare blanket on top of Doc-

[Doc] Reacts by clawing at the blanket and dragging it up against themselves desperately. Hugging the bundle close to their body.

[CP] Hears a slight scratching at the door and grumbles as he goes to investigate, removing the bedrock he opens the door a crack and Grinny slips in.  CP whispers at the cat- Well aren't you being friendly today...

[Grinny] Ignores CP and goes to Doc's bed, looking for a warm spot to curl up while CP replaces the block and returns to his mates side-

[Doc] Rolls over with a moan and hir fingers find the cat. Giving him a gentle pull to get them closer. Xe mumbles - LH... come here little guy...

[Grinny] Makes an amused face but does curl up closer to Doc, his blood stained coat against Doc-

[Doc] Snuggles the cat, and slides deeper into hir dreams, whispering hir lovers name like a prayer. - Deerheart....

[CP] Eventually falls asleep as well-

[5millionfriends]

New Post has been published on Planet Market

Kiss Body Building Workouts Goodbye!

I walked out of the locker room at the gym yesterday only to hear a gym regular telling one of her cronies that she was going to train biceps and triceps that day.

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for this wannabe.

Every day, she, along with her parakeet-legged hubby and his overflowing love handles, slop their way through some inept combination of a body part workout, marked by isolation movements and their ongoing love affair with the cable machine.

This day was bound to be no different. I mean, don’t you have to actually have a set of triceps before you devote an entire workout to upper arm mass?

I was willing to give her one last shot, though.

Maybe she and that lug of hers were finally going to prove me wrong and open up with some weighted dips or close-grip bench presses to awaken those feeble, malnourished pea shooters.

How about some close-grip chin-ups to really stimulate those biceps that appear to have been on a ten-year slumber from countless sets of cable curls?

Not a chance.

A brutal set of lying triceps extensions, followed by a gut-wrenching set of French presses must have set those babies on fire.

Oh no, they weren’t done yet. They proceeded to pump out some heavy duty concentration curls, and they really hit a grand slam with some dynamite preacher curls.

Sadly, like many around them, this delusional duo actually considers themselves hardcore.

Nice Try, Wet Wolf!

“That looks like a very good arm routine to me. In fact, my current arm workout looks a lot like that!”

First of all, rose petal, you have no business devoting an entire workout solely to arms. You haven’t earned that privilege yet. That’s for seasoned Figure vixens with a very solid foundation of muscle.

Second of all, every exercise listed in that pitiful workout is performed sitting or lying down. Seriously, would you like me to get you a pillow and a blankey so you can take a nap between sets?

It’s no wonder you look like a cross between a Hawaiian Tropic bikini model and a yoga instructor.

“Not so fast, Wet Wolf! I lift weights five days a week!”

What are you doing at the gym all five of those days, may I ask?

I don’t know what you’re doing, but I do know what you aren’t doing – physique transforming compound movements that’ll illicit a profound body composition shift.

And yes, that’s something you’re sorely in need of. In one of my previous articles, I told you that unless you were under 18% body fat you had no business counting macronutrients or calories. All you needed to be focused on was eating clean, whole foods and exercising.

Well, I’ve got some news for you: The same rule applies here.

Unless you can do at least five chin-ups and fifteen push-ups, you have absolutely no business doing cable flies.

If you can’t do twenty below parallel single-leg squats, then you’re banned from the leg press. (Well, you shouldn’t be doing the leg press anyway.)

You see my point, though. Far too many antsy females follow a ridiculous workout from some women’s fitness magazine they snatched off the shelf at the local grocery store as they ran in to grab a plate of Santa cookies with sprinkles and jimmies for the office Christmas party.

Then we have the ladies who think they’re advanced after nearly three months of consistent weight training who do a body part split like your typical clueless gym rat. You’ve seen it (or maybe even done it); the one that goes something like biceps and calves, abs and back, shoulders and triceps.

So, how come body part splits are so wrong for females, anyway?

I’ll tell you why.

Females have a dramatically lower strength ceiling than males.

If a male has several years of weight training under his belt and has attained above average strength levels, then training upper and lower body in the same training session would detract from one another, as opposed to performing training sessions exclusively for each.

Therefore, because of the naturally lower strength ceiling, a female can experience all the positives and none of the drawbacks of a total body training session.

Another reason for females to be pro-total body training is that they’re predisposed to higher body fat levels than males.

When you train your entire body, you create a much greater energy turnover and metabolic disturbance. This leads to a substantial energy deficit, sparking fat loss.

Best of all, this provides females with that coveted elevated heart rate they long for. Brief recovery periods are less taxing on the nervous system when supersetting upper body movements with lower body ones.

However, total body workouts containing supersets are far more taxing on the respiratory system.

Think about it; instead of repping out sets of ten squats with a nickel on each side because you’re only resting thirty seconds between sets, why not really ignite that cardio-pulmonary system by raising the weight on the bar? Add an extra two reps to each set, increase your rest between sets a bit, but do an upper body movement in between each set of squats.

“Hold on, Wet Wolf. I think I heard you say before that it was silly to try to use weight training as the sole purpose of increasing heart rate with brief recovery periods.”

It is, if you do it every time you step on the weight room floor.

That’s the great thing about total body workouts for females; they can be used to build muscle just as easily as they can be used to torch fat.

For the wannabe who needs to build some strength and muscle, or the Figure Athlete who wants to burn off some fat in order to reveal her polished, rock solid, lean physique, the total body workout meets your needs.

Wet Wolf’s Total Body Workout

Let’s take a look at each day of the workout and what it entails.

Monday: Strength

A1) Band-assisted chin-up

Sets: 5 Reps: 5 Rest: 60 seconds

A2) Front squat

Sets: 5 Reps: 5 Rest: 60 seconds

B1) Standing dumbbell shoulder press

Sets: 5 Reps: 5 Rest: 60 seconds

B2) Single-leg dumbbell deadlift

Sets: 5 Reps: 5 Rest: 60 seconds

C) Ab wheel

Sets: 5 Reps: 5 Rest: 60 seconds

Wednesday: Hypertrophy

A1) Low-incline dumbbell bench press

Sets: 3 Reps: 9 Rest: 60 seconds

A2) Sumo deadlift

Sets: 3 Reps: 9 Rest: 60 seconds

B1) Single-arm dumbbell row

Sets: 3 Reps: 9 Rest: 60 seconds

B2) Bulgarian split squat

Sets: 3 Reps: 9 Rest: 60 seconds

C) Crocs

Sets: 3 Reps: 9

Execution: Place a plate wrapped in a shirt or towel under your toes while in a push-up position, internally rotate your humerus, and “paw” yourself across the floor.

Friday: Fat Loss and Endurance

A1) Single-leg squat

Sets: 2 Reps: 20 Rest: 60 seconds

A2) High-incline bodyweight row

Sets: 2 Reps: 20 Rest: 60 seconds

B1) Steep-angle push-up

Sets: 2 Reps: 20 Rest: 60 seconds

Execution: Perform the push-ups on the bar in a Smith machine or squat rack.

B2) Single-leg hip pop-up (with one foot elevated)

Sets: 2 Reps: 20 Rest: 60 seconds

C) Stability ball crunches supersetted with stability ball V-ups

Sets: 2 Reps: 20 Rest: 60 seconds

That’s it.

“But what about my four-times-a-week cardio obsession?!”

Hold on, Skippy! First of all, the Friday workout is going to have you gasping for air worse than when you popped out of the water after your older brother dunked you at the local swimming pool.

If you don’t believe me, just wait and see.

I’ll allow one other day per week for general anaerobic conditioning for the skinny, no-muscle crowd and two additional days per week for the fat loss seekers.

Anaerobic day: jumping jacks for 30 seconds, mountain climbers for 30 seconds, rest for 30 seconds

Perform that five times through and add an extra wave each week. The goal is to eventually survive twelve rounds.

Totally Sexy

I don’t care how hardcore you think you are or how big of a newbie you are, you can, and will, make solid gains if you follow this routine for a good four weeks.

So, now you know a vital component to your success. Take advantage of it and change your physique.

fitness body

#Design

[ignitingwriting]

Igniting Writing Fairy Tale Contest 2020, Submission by Lucy Wright

The Princess with the Dragons

 Once upon a time a young French princess was born and her name was Daniella. Her life was perfect in every way, but then her parents caught the plague. They had less than a year to live and now she would have to be queen. Yet the villagers were angry – she was only 12! They told her she was irresponsible and young and didn’t deserve to be queen.

When the monarchs died, they didn’t admit their mistake and she was mistreated. A sorceress named Abigail Lightheart came and saw what they were doing and cast a spell that when the princess reached the age of 17, she would stay 17 forever until the villagers learned to accept her and she ruled over their village.

But they didn’t learn and her seventeenth birthday came and went. The village was breaking down with no competent leader. Then one day the princess vanished; she was locked in a tower guarded by two dragons. The villagers realised their mistake and that she was their rightful ruler. They couldn’t get past the dragons, so she stayed locked up.

This tale was a favourite of the village, as they could see the top of the tower over the hill. Many people tried to get to her, but they all came back with nothing. Then, hundreds of years later, another prince decided to try his luck at getting to her. And that is where we begin.

To say Prince Pierre Mont-Clair of France’s Outskirts was hated was an understatement. He was detested and his subjects dread the day he’d become king. He rode into town on his horse, Victory, and made no time in making sure everyone knew of his presence.

“Where is the leader of this little hovel?” he asked a young woman, barely 19, who was buying some bread.

“I don’t know,” the woman replied. “I live in the woods. I’m just buying myself some food. Ask Oscar.”

He left her and asked around for ‘Oscar’ and eventually found him. He was the priest.

“Hello Oscar,” smirked Pierre. “I understand you know everything that goes on around here?”

“Oh yes,” Oscar smiled. “Come on in.”

Pierre looked; it was a church. Churches were awful in his eye; they were the root of evil.

“I would rather not,” he said, his voice dripping with disgust.

“Why not?” asked Oscar.

“Churches are awful places – they are made of stone and are so old and filled with stupid old men like you.”

He slowly became aware of the many people watching their conversation, most of the village were staring in horror.

“Who are you?” someone called out.

“Prince Pierre Mont-Clair of France’s Outskirts.”

The crowd murmured – they’d all heard of him but for all the wrong reasons.

“I am here to save Princess Daniella from her imprisonment. Which none of you could do, obviously. I guess you’re just weak.”

The villagers looked at him, their faces all offended. “That is offensive and rude. Normally we’d give people like you weapons and maps to save Daniella. But now…” someone yelled.

Pierre didn’t care; he was rich and so had the weapons he needed. He didn’t need these stupid slobs to help him. This village was awful and he didn’t want to stay there any longer. He needed to go, save Princess Daniella, marry her so he’d be married to a beautiful princess and rule over France.

He left Victory in a stable, grabbed his trusty sword and satchel full of food and walked away. He passed the woman from earlier again, it looked like she was the only one who hadn’t watched his conversation. She was buying books and gave him a tiny smile as he marched into the woods.

The trees were thick. Everywhere he turned was a canopy of green. It enveloped him and made him feel he was trapped in a green bubble. Birds fluttered around him, the only colour besides the green. He walked for many hours and slept for many more until, eventually, he reached a clearing. Everything inside this clearing had been burnt – the grass was burned away, the small flowers were burned away and even the branches that would’ve spread into it were burned away. Dragons.

Pierre could see the tower up ahead. It was close, but the dragon was closer. He saw it, a large mound of red with spikes encrusted down its spine like diamonds, its long tail curling round one of its paws, a worryingly large spike protruding out of its end. Its eyes were luminous; the yellow was enough to scare the bravest of men, yet it was sleeping. He slipped behind the dragon, reaching his sword high in the air, and he killed it with one swing of his sword.

That was when he noticed the second dragon, the sun reflected in its identically red skin. It was an identical twin of the first one, but awake. Clouds of fire puffed from its nostrils as it advanced slowly, closer and closer. It wasn’t trying to kill him, just ward him off so that he wouldn’t head to the tower.

Running backwards, Pierre hid himself in the trees. The dragon would be too big to follow him and it didn’t seem to want to kill him, just scare him off. That was when the dragon noticed the other body – it flared up, every diamond spike down its back bursting into flame. This dragon was angry and it certainly wanted to kill him now.

It burned down the trees, thumping its way over to him. So he ran, but made sure that he didn’t go too far from the castle. Then he heard something, the sound of water – a stream! He ran towards it, thinking that at least it would be protection from the fire. He dived in, keeping a firm grip on his sword, ready for the rampaging dragon.

It charged across the wood towards him, he reached up his sword and…it slipped and fell out of his hands, wedging itself between two rocks downstream. The dragon took its opportunity and let out a raging fire storm. Pierre dunked himself underwater and swam to where the sword was, he grabbed it but it was stuck! Soon he would have to come up for air, so he tugged and tugged. The dragon was practically above him; it would be now or never. Pierre wrenched the sword from the stone’s firm grip and thrust it upward. The dragon let out a roar of anguish and sunk to the floor, dead.

Pierre climbed out of the river and dried himself off with a flame which was still going. He then took off towards the tower with no obstacles in his way. He looked up at the tower – it was strangely beautiful, with flowers and ivy growing up the sides and a little door at the bottom with a sign reading ‘Home Sweet Home’. He pushed the door open carefully and entered. There was a cleverly constructed pulley-system which acted as a lift for him. When he reached the top, he found himself in a friendly looking kitchen. The princess stood at the other end, cooking something.

“Hey Abby,” she said, not turning, “I thought you were going to get back this evening.”

“I’m not Abby…” Pierre replied cautiously

The princess turned – she looked confused. “Oh… how did you get in?”

“The front door,” Pierre said.

She looked at him inquisitively and gestured to a seat and sat on the one opposite.

“You do not seem upset…” Pierre asked, carefully sitting down. He’d expected a maiden throwing herself at him rather than this cool and collected girl, who seemed to be wearing trousers.

“Why’d I be upset?”

“You’ve been imprisoned in this tower,” Pierre said.

“Who told you that?”

Pierre repeated the whole story to her and was surprised when she laughed at the end.

“You… believed… that?” she laughed hysterically, “I disappeared 342 years ago, stories change! Abby and I were best friends; we were the only red-heads in the village! I asked for the spell to be put on me to teach everyone a lesson. Abby goes out every weekend to get supplies for us.”

Pierre thought back and remembered the young girl who had told her about Oscar, that was Abby. It was becoming clear now, but not in a good way. It was like un-fogging your car’s windscreen to find that you’re driving off a cliff.

“And the tower with the dragons…” Pierre murmured.

“All me,” she grinned, “I asked Abby to do it. Also, that legend is wrong; my name isn’t Daniella. It’s Dan, short for Daniella, but never call me that.”

“Tell me all about it.”

Dan smiled, “My life wasn’t great, my parents died of the plague and everyone hated me for being young. I wanted to teach them a lesson, so I asked my friend Abby to cast a spell that I would never be old enough to rule, knowing she could reverse it at any time. But they were too stubborn – I grew to enjoy being 17, but I couldn’t live with their torture. Then I read two books, called Beauty and the Beast and Rapunzel, one about a French princess and the other about a tower. So I asked for another favour, Abby made a tower with two friendly dragons and I’ve lived here for 314 years. People have tried to break me out, but Ruby and Scarlett ward them off.”

Pierre nodded nervously; he wished he’d never listened to the legend.

“I’ve never asked what you’re doing here,” Dan realised. “Why are you here?”

“I’ve… come to save you.” Pierre said, instantly regretting it.

Dan flared up immediately. “WHAT!” she screamed. “Why on earth did Ruby and Scarlett let you through?”

She ran to the open window and screamed into the day; “RUBY! SCARLETT! COME RIGHT NOW, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU! GET THIS STUPID PERSON OUT OF HERE!”

There was no beat of wings, or snort of even a rustle. She leaned out and saw the two hulking bodies, lying in the woods. She turned; Pierre had never seen this sort of rage before. Dan was deadly.

“You are so lucky that Abby’s at the market,” she hissed, grabbing a large book, “because now I’ve got to kill you the old-fashioned way.”

She hurled the book across the room. He ducked and ran to the door. As he jumped into the lift, lots of potato peelings rained down on him. He then ran out of the door and Dan swiftly followed, clutching the biggest frying pan he’d ever seen. She chased him through the woods and out into the village. Every time Dan got close, she would whack him with her pan. The villagers came out and watched them. They seemed to be mocking him, so Pierre ran and never looked back.

So, what happened to everyone?

Well, Dan became queen and learned that opinions do change. She lived a long and happy life.

The two dragons, Ruby and Scarlett, were resurrected by Abby and protected the village from all of the invaders that would come in the next years.

Pierre, much to everyone’s disappointment, became King of France’s Outskirts. Although three years later he would be overthrown and his worthy brother, Diego, would be crowned.

As for Abby, she settled down and became a writer, but her favourite was a history book she’d written. She named it ‘The Princess with the Dragons’ and she knew exactly how to start it. Once upon a time, a young French princess was born, and her name was Daniella. She hopes you enjoyed it!