#get the bliss spores

[xeaxeo]

going 2 brag that i'm good at video games cuz i beat the nere fight in baldur gate 3 hehehhehee

i had a save at a point where the fight was going well only went back to it twice only pushed 2 people into lava no one in my party died (like dead dead, had to revive twice if i remember right it is all a blur) had wyll, shadowheart, and astarion in party (and myself, dream)

[dirtybg3confessions]

Confession: There is potentially horny things to be thought about the bliss spores you get for killing the duergar and I think about those a lot

[yourworsttotebag]

Bliss Spores

Pairing: Gale/Female OC Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~7k

Summary: “Do you trust me?” Evie asked. Her eyes, like warm honey, stared at him intently.

This was the natural stopping point. The point where it was obvious Gale had forgotten that he was supposed to be the responsible one, the one to keep them both out of trouble. Staring at the soft curves of Evie’s body, her hand under his shirt - those were amusing, one-off accidents. Now was the perfect time for Gale to gently guide Evie’s hand away and tell her she should try to get some sleep.

“I trust you,” Gale said hoarsely.

Well, he tried.

----

My Underdark sex pollen contribution for 2024

[Read now on AO3]

[imaginesofeverykind]

Witches Brew ~ Chapter 2

Summary: To practice magic is to slight God with the devil's embrace. It is evil, sin, consuming and the price one pays is never worth what one seeks. Yet people, in times of desperation often turn to desperate measures, in Aegon’s case, medicinal remedy is not an option. No healer can undo what has been done. But the Hag tucked away behind reeds, water topped with algae and the voracious bog may be able to. For a price.

Warnings: Catholic-Centric monotheism demonised, language, 18+ Minors DNI

Tags: DnD Fusion AU, Targaryens are just noblefolk, more vagueness

Word Count: 5k

Chapter Song: Harbinger - Kiki Rockwell

Yurisa and Ornmir aren't in a DND pantheon I just made them up for the purpose of the fic!

Series Masterlist

The power of words came from the ability to heed what is said, the Holy word of God revered by many and feared by others denounces the practices that don’t abide his word. Yet, your words — the words of a heretic, a pagan, a ‘devil worshiper’ — haunted the brothers, resounding in disembodied whispers cruelly reminding them of the events that transpired in wake of a seemingly ordinary day.

Neither spoke of what happened, in fear that speaking it outloud would make it a reality. It almost felt as though they shared a deranged and highly realistic dream that stubbornly did not disappear into the back of their consciousness when they were awake. A nightmare they were forced to reckon with when their Lord Father fell mysteriously ill, an infection that appeared seemingly from nowhere had him bedridden for a tenday.

His left eye had begun to fester and rot away.

Troublesome as the sudden ailment came, it all but made the brothers’ blood run cold when they soon realized the eye that had begun its necrosis would have been the same side on Aemond’s if he lost it that day. He did lose it that evening. And then a miracle — dark blood magic — brought it back. This had been the price. The saying ‘Eye for an Eye’ appeared to be most taunting in this instance.

Cycles of the moon that once meant nothing but something to measure time with became a looming presence for Aegon. A beacon of light in the night he looked onto with resentment and disgust where it once bore witness to his acts of sin and debauchery. Each phase a creeping reminder that he must return back to the decrepit hut, a threat he considered hollow until he felt the pull of the moon the closer to full it became.

The swamp surprisingly looked more harrowing during the day, perhaps it were because under the shield of darkness the night brings, many creatures were hidden away. The afternoon sun seared through the treetops, warming the marshy waters and in doing so lifted a pungent odour, souring the deeper into the bog it got. Sulfur fumes so strong it was hard to believe the sounds of nature indicated life thrived blithely, undisturbed in the thick mud pits, reedy bushes or trees when it so easily brought tears to Aegon’s eyes and made his lungs burn.

Fungus, abnormally larger than the toadstools that littered the edge of the Kings Road sat in halo’s of spores it created. Demanding reproduction and relentlessly over taking the grounds of which they grew, the damage a single spore can do to an entire ecosystem of plant life once it infected a single limb of a plant.

Nature was hideous and beautiful, harrowing and wonderous, unforgiving yet forgiving all at once. Amongst it all, as if tying the cacophony of life, death and all that sat in between nature oscillating and constant; A blissful humming. So subtle it was almost easy to miss the gentle caress in the area getting stronger, coaxing more fervently as it neared the epicentre of the swamp. 

The Elder Tree and the Hut entwined in its roots.

“Hello little lordling,” You appear behind him, but Aegon doesn’t jump. Almost as if he were expecting you to be exactly there. The same presence that plagues his thoughts, you could tell how restless he had become over since you last met. A smile pulls at your lips, tauntingly smug, “the moon is not full and yet here you are. Five moons early.”

He regards you slowly, though out of fear or caution you can’t quite tell until he speaks, “my father has fallen ill.” There is no sadness in his voice, no guilt, no indication that he is upset by what you’ve done to ensure his brother became whole again. 

You drag your feet toward him with a tilted head as you stare into his eyes of Violet, curling a hand around his jaw to look at him with far more scrutiny, your fingernails like thorns into his skin. Part of you is disappointed, the younger brother seemed to be a far more amusing moon servant with his boiled temperament, but when you look into Aegon, you see someone far less self involved — self serving perhaps but not one who uses a holy shield to look down on those who refute one God. 

He is as much a sinner as you were but for different reasons.

“That is the price, to meddle with the forces of nature.” You muse, taking away the hand that clawed into his soft cheeks, crescent moon indentations mark where your fingers had previously sat. Head tilted once again, you inspect his rugged appearance, the dark circles under his eyes and how stringy his hair looked. Leagues different in comparison to how he had looked the last time he had enlightened you with his presence. The moon gives and the moon takes, just like magic, just like nature.

”I didn’t come here to hear riddles, hag.” His lips downturn into, what you could only assume was, a frightful grimace with his brows casting downward. Haggard in appearance wasn’t the only change you could note, where he had last been in the clothes of a nobleman now he was wearing commonfolk garb. Though you are inclined to believe this is his choice to do so and not an artifact of disowning from the Lord and Lady of Oldtown.

“I’ve jokes if you would rather,” you smile tauntingly, though he looked less than amused on account of his eye twitching with an ire you had only previously seen with his brother. It must be the Moon. Though you don’t concede in your jest,“forgive me, I was under the impression you were the fun brother.”

He snapped, grabbing the scruff of your cardigan and pulling you up off your feet with a strength that seemed to surprise even him briefly, “there is nothing fun about what you did to me.” His eyes were wild, animalistic like he might just snap a little further over the threshold of man and monster. This anger appeared foreign on him, you could tell. The creases worn into his face like ridges in a tree were that of someone forlorn and closely recognised misery as a friend, not someone who was quick to anger and enmity. His ire was not of desperation as you had seen once before, it was an artificial plague of your making by bestowing him the curse of the moon in your actions of removing it from his brother. 

As if reading his thoughts you shake your head, “I cannot undo what has been done.” You have said this many times to many different people who seek you out, an echo of the woman who raised you, as she would say the same to similarly lost souls. This time it filled you with feelings distant to you but not entirely unheard of, it stirred a deep sorrow that you could not understand the origin or why. 

“Why not?” His grip loosened, a crack in his voice indicated that he will not lose himself to the beast that lives inside his very being now.

“What is taken, must be returned. Your brother's eye was returned to him, but only because it was taken from someone else,” his father, you don’t need to say as he is sure enough to understand on his own, “the curse bequeathed to your brother removed, but only because it was parted onto someone else.” You, Aegon. Your eyes watch his with great interest, his pupils begin to shrink and the violet in them return, and a faint whisper that barely passes as a thought but still registers in your mind are three simple words that shake you to the core: I’m so sorry.

***

Blood curses on their own are incredibly hostile in nature, to meddle magically with the very rivers that bring a soul life, is to be inherently evil. You recall the night of your eleventh winter, the moon at its highest and forever etched into your memory was that it was red. A Blood Moon. Auntie, (as you referred to the woman who raise you as despite her being anything but) would regale you with stories of the various cities she had visited, the travels she would get up to and despite the discrepancies in her timelines you would always listen with a grin on your face and wide eyed.

While the Moon was the symbol of the wolves, the goddess commanded her soldiers and servants when it was at its fullest. A Blood Moon was the symbol of petrifyingly beautiful harbingers of death, lustful creatures seeking blood to keep their souls appeased and their hunger satiated. Though, to your recollection, you weren’t sure what a moon decorated in a blue hue meant and who served the Moon when she turned blue.

The bones of your beloved childhood pet ferret laid out before you indicated troubling signs for the evening's full moon, it warned of uncertainty and danger. “Gods be good,” you whisper and gather the bones of the late Yurisa, you had named her after the Goddess of Winter aptly because of the fur as white as snow. The Goddess of Winter was known to be cruel and calculating, worshippers often regarding her as the Mistress of Atrophy, for when she brought her touch upon the land, it withered beneath her.

To you, Yurisa was merely a name to call your furry companion. 

Now you are well and truly alone. No Auntie left to gently guide you through the mystical arts or teach you kindness and compassion. No more Yurisa to cuddle up with when loneliness crept up like a misfortune or to scuttle around your feet when you went foraging for ingredients. It seemed as though you were destined to be alone, abandoned by a mother, abandoned by another and left alone when death crept up and seized the soul from your small companion.

Perhaps that may have been the reason your thoughts lingered to mournful and sorrowful when lamenting on the impromptu visit for the lordling Aegon days prior. The same reason that voice whispered to offer mercy the night the brothers arrived. Though, you could lament no further out of frustration of not getting any answers and by happenstance due to Aegon’s arrival.

His footsteps were weary, despite being at the hut for a third time, though the weight with each carefully placed step had an adjustment to its cadence that piqued your interest. Blood curses with transformative properties were cruel and unusual on the body and the mind, the ebbings of change often appearing in those infected a few days before and after the Full Moon. It was already taking a toll on him. 

You opened the door at the moment he raised his fist to knock, startling him slightly though you don’t notice behind how disheveled and unwell he looked, “little lordling.”  

Through his tired eyes rimmed with red from exhaustion, he narrowed them, “stop calling me that.”

“Would you prefer Moon Servant? Wolf Pup?” You are hardly smiling or even joking for that matter, as you stepped aside and waved him through.

”Just Aegon is fine,” he grumbled, compared to last time his anger was at a low level — still foreign on him but low nonetheless. His face was more sunken in, hollowing at the cheeks and under eyes as if he were more skeleton than flesh. One of many unfortunate side effects he was about to endure and he was none the wiser about how awful it was about to get for him.

By the hearth you boil water and whisk around your cupboards for the right ingredients when the question in your mind suddenly fell past your lips, “how are you feeling?” It felt like a mistake to ask such a question, as it often is only asked when endearing someone, “the pain, I mean. Fevers? Anything out of the ordinary?” You quickly add, while fussing about the pot of boiling water and various ingredients swirling in a maroon brine.

”I feel…” He had to think about it, eyes lifted to inspect the ceiling while thinking, “I feel like I’ve been hung, drawn and quartered. Though I s’pose that is meant to be normal right, witch?” His tone laced in a particular type of venom, calling you a witch as if it were derogatory but it was nothing except a label of what you are. Sorceress, Enchantress, Hag, Witch — they all meant the same thing; Heretic.

You remind yourself that as far as he was aware, he was not here of his own free will which was far removed from the truth. The lapse in your wrath the night you had crossed paths with him had you wavering conviction and offering mercy. That mercy being that he would not have to face the Moon’s Curse alone and could do it in a place that concealed him far from the eyes of the many zealots within the walls of Oldtown.

Extending a clawed hand out, you gesture for him, “show me your fingernails.”

”Why?”

”If I wished ill fortune on you or even death, I’d have done it by now, no? Show me your fingernails.” You grew impatient.

He reluctantly holds out a hand for you to grab. Unexpectedly, they were red raw around the nail but not because of the impending transformation, this was purely habitual, a very human trait that indicated he was nervous and anxious often. The nails themselves though, were beginning to blacken at the nail bed and were more hardened than what was normal.

Holding one of his hands steady, you manifest a small jar of medicinal salve and begin to lightly swipe it over the affected areas. It wasn’t going to lessen the pain of his impending transformation, but it would help stave off infection. You feel his gaze on you, not hard or weary, rather just inspecting carefully as you silently tend to his fingers.

”Erm — I’ve had joint aches and mood swings. I haven’t eaten either.” He admits shrewdly, the violet in his eyes washing away from colour in his iris slowly. It felt rather ludicrous, hearing his ailments like he was a patient and you were a healer. Though to a degree you may have been just that, even if the circumstances were very different. 

You don’t answer him, merely nodding and turning back to your boiling concoction, opting to add a touch more Docrut ash before scooping a cup full of brine into an aged bowl. It is not grand nor lavish like what Aegon may be used to, but you didn’t care, offering it to him, “drink. It will help with the pain.”

Lifting the bowl to his lips, he grimaced with flared nostrils and took a gulp only to immediately splutter it back out and cough it all over you. Unsure if he was being overdramatic or he simply wished to indignify you for his shortcomings, nevertheless, you wiped your face of his spit silently.

”That tastes like piss,” he gagged, covering his face and mouth as though it would shield him from the steaming brew in his hands.

”I never said it would taste nice,” you smile with slight amusement, “though if you forgo what is helpful simply because of its taste, I can assure you, you will regret it come morning.” He was an interesting individual, thrust into a circumstance out of his control and yet finding ways to nitpick it like the true highborn soul he was. 

“Perhaps if you hold your nose and drink it won’t taste so bitter,” you offer, remembering when as a child how much you despised the mushroom bark stew Auntie made. She would tell you the same thing, because out in the Swamp you either ate what was given to you or went hungry. Choice was not a luxury you grew up having.

He seemed taken aback by how childish you sounded, or, you thought, it was because you had said something that wasn’t inherently monsterous in his eyes. So you decide to bite a little, a smile curling at your lips, “what? Even us Hags have to eat disgusting things despite ourselves… I’ll drink some with you, if it helps.” 

You scoop yourself a bowl, holding it up as if mocking a ‘cheers’ and bringing it to your lips. He wasn’t wrong at all, it smelt awful, eye wateringly awful and as pungent as the acrid scent of the swamp outside. Gods, don’t think about the swamp water. Yet, with a pinch of the nose to seal your nostrils shut, you tilt the bowl up and begin to drink. Eyes flicking over to Aegon who is dutifully following despite the exaggerated expression of disgust.

”See,” you cough and wince as the brew burned your throat and assaulted the senses, “it wasn’t so —,” an onslaught of coughs prevent you from finishing the sentence, though when you came too it wasn’t the fact that he had finished his bowl that came as a surprise. It was the simple and disturbingly pleasant fact that he was actually laughing - at you, yes - but laughing nonetheless. 

The feeling of delight, something as plain as hearing him laugh sent troubling waves of nausea within you. Stop that, you insisted to yourself for thinking too long on such a factor but unfortunately for you it seemed to imbue you with a sense of being. 

“I’m pleased to know it isn’t poison at least,” he jests half heartedly, setting the bowl down on the table beside him. His moment of weakness, laughter, subsided and his walls were back up, though as you look out the window you are reminded that he will very much be a very different kind of man soon, and even more come the morning.

There was still some time left before a long night began, a question that had been plaguing you since that night a month ago and had never found a suitable answer by speculating, “why did your brother get attacked that night? The Lycanthropes in the swamp… They are usually docile because of Ornmir.”

He looked over at you, brow raised in confusion that was met with your annoyed sigh, “right of course — The Swamp Spirit, she has domain over this area, nurtures the land and watches over the creatures.” You explain as if it were the most obvious answer, but recognise you were being unfair on someone who most likely had no idea there was a spirit of the swamp.

There’s a moment of slight humour back in his eyes, a scornful snort exhales from his nose as he laughs dryly, “I suppose then this fabled ‘spirit’ is responsible for the attacks on the nearby village then? A beast descends on a village to kill their livestock, that feels rather opposite to being watched over and docile, like you said?”

”hm,” you hum momentarily, letting his words settle, “perhaps it’s God’s will then?” You weren’t mocking him specifically, rather his family and those who sought to eradicate the magic in the world. The surrounding village’s littered on the outskirts of the swamp were often benevolent in the few times you had passed through to get seeds or fruit, yet the cathedral spires of Oldtown were a beacon that infected many people with prejudice and it reached as far as the closest Village.

Ornmir’s domain was relatively benign despite the creatures that reside, so it did strike you as odd that something had been thought to attack the villages, just like it struck you as odd that an attack happened to Aegon and his brother. Though, your question would remain unanswered for a while longer with the light fading to blackness settling outside of the hut’s windows.

It was always darker in the marsh long before the Sun had fully set, which was natural given the thick cover provided by trees taller than Oldtown's giant Cathedral. Though nightfall would turn within mere minutes, and with that, Aegon would be more monster than man. With great haste you beckon him outside of your hut and take him behind the Elder Tree. A lantern in one hand to illuminate the way and an old dagger in the other.

The humming that vibrated throughout the swamp seemed to permeate from the very roots of the Elder Tree; it was the largest and most intricate looking tree in comparison, even shrouded in darkness. Around it, the ground littered with moss and deceptively hidden soft mud that would encase your foot had you taken a wrong step.

You close your eyes and listen softly, to the wind and its direction, to the symphony of creatures and bugs that coexist within the heart of the marshy swamplands, the humming that never ceased. The moon was on the rise. You felt it, like a presence that made the hair on the back of your neck stand, like a feeling deep within the pit of your stomach. Many serve the Moon, but all life somehow feels its pull.

“Aegon,” you address with a softer tone than necessary, “this may very well be the worst thing you will ever go through. It’s excruciating. It’s difficult. You will begin to recede back, as though no longer in control because you won’t be in control yet will feel, see, taste everything. You’re a shattered soul belonging to two now. A man and a beast.” 

A Primal beast that will exist on urges that would make men weep at the thought.

”We are going to have quite the night together I believe,” you smile wearily, bringing the obsidian dagger to the palm of your hand and cutting deeply into it. He grimaced at the sight of crimson dribbling down your forearm, but in the macabre lighting of the lone lantern and a cluster of fireflies you watch his eyes wash away all violet colouring.

Black consuming even the whites of his eyes, you gave him a playful smile, one that certainly wasn’t appropriate for the situation at hand and darted off through the swamp

***

Lycanthropy is one of the few curses that shattered both body and soul, and contrary to what is believed that the only instance of change occurs under the full moon, the blight is a month long ailment. To have bones, tendons and muscle rip, warp and rearrange to a completely different structure was harrowing enough to watch, though scholars tend to only source that this happened one night per month. 

Mending bones and muscle was no easy feat, nor was it something that could be done in a mere day. Especially under someone’s first transformation. Aegon had slept for a day and a half before awakening to what you could only assume was the worst pain ever to be put through. 

He complained, immensely, but you took that as a sign of him feeling better than anything to be annoyed about. Two days after the full moon his fingernails had finally regressed to their normal sizing, and both his hair and eyes had a semblance of life brought back into them. 

You had forgotten how nice it was simply having another person around, not even just to talk too, but another presence that made the hut feel less lonely. Though, you remind yourself that much like your Mother, Auntie and Yurisa — loneliness appeared to be your curse to bear.

”I promise this tastes better than it looks,” you hand over a bowl of seemingly beige modge podge that looks less than enticing and more like vomit. Aegon immediately grimaced but seemed to have caught himself and shook it off, probably in hopes that you didn’t notice. But you did.

His eyes widened in surprise when he shoveled a tentative mouthful of the unappealing looking soup, “this is delicious, what’s in it?” 

Snake and Eel. Against your better judgment you decide to refrain from telling him, lest he lose his appetite, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” A sly smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you tend to the daily chores around your abode. His watchful gaze never felt intrusive or rude, it was your understanding that he merely enjoyed people watching though he hadn’t said it, it was your own reticent observation that led to that deduction.

“You are strange, witch.” Without a hint of malice in his voice, it may have been the first compliment you received from him, one that you gladly took on. Invigorating you in a way that was unexpected and worrisome. Auntie had warned you that you had a tendency to grow attached too easily, a facet that rang true for all the creatures you helped mend themselves when they were injured or the travelers that passed through that you assisted her with helping them. 

“Strange is good,” you smile earnestly at him, and though your mind was yelling for you not too, your mouth opened on its own accord, “Bramble… Auntie called me Bramble because that's where she found me.” Though you refused to elaborate when he gave you an inquisitive glance. The memory of Auntie was somewhat sacred, that was something you wished to keep to yourself above all.

”An even stranger name…” he murmured, as though in his thoughts and you weren’t supposed to hear that. 

The remainder of the morning went as such, light chatter that felt more akin to a strategic game of droughts learning a small thing about the other as the morning progressed. He was a first born of four, wildly incapable of the pressures and responsibility of a first born, liked to drink his body weight in Ale and Fine Wine and was horrid at day to day tasks as you came to learn when he attempted to help you with something as mundane as hanging freshly washed linen out.

”Good lord what the fuck is that?” His exasperated tone caused you to turn, his eyes fixated in the distance and a finger pointed at the flying abomination in the air near a cluster of identical looking creatures. Features that looked not of this world, making it appear as though it was the gruesome victim of alchemistic cross breeding, beady eyes and a rat like face of a bat but its body looked like a giant mosquito.

You looked at it, unfazed and turned back to what you were doing, “Stirges, awful creatures…” While the flying monstrosity didn’t worry you, its presence did unsettle you greatly, having not seen a nest of them so close by before. Something strange was happening and it had started from before the night of the lycanthrope attack. You wished to know what events occurred that caused such a chain reaction. An attack on a human, an attack on the village and now an incursion of horrible blights that aren’t native to the lands.

“Aegon,” you slowly lifted your head to meet his gaze which was already fixed on you, “why were you in the swamp the night your brother was attacked?” It felt as though you asked this question several times before and never got a real answer out of him or the conversation naturally diverted elsewhere. 

While he was mostly open about his admissions already, you could sense him hesitate to answer this question. Perhaps he was gifted at deflecting and that was why you hadn’t received an answer for your question yet. Though the trepidation was not for lack of honesty or a need to conceal the truth, his eyes glassy and a slight tremble in his lip indicated guilt more than anything.

“Whatever is eating away at you, is not my concern. The reason is all I care for. Something isn’t right.” You hum, the nagging feeling eating away your insides like a looming sense of dread that was hard to pinpoint and it alarmed you grately that it took this long to figure out something strange was afoot. The humming of the Swamp droned gently, undisturbed and constant and yet there was a disturbance, over by the reedy shallows where the Stirges set their nest up. It was as though they came undetected, unseen.

He sighed, drawing your gaze to him, a look of shame and guilt marred his face, “I want not for ownership of the land, nor title or to become a Lord… but such is duty,” he was resentful and cutthroat, as if the word duty was an unholy word to be spit out. “Yet my father forces upon me what I push away — it’s my fault Aemond was hurt, he should never have been out there.”

Aemond, you repeat in your head, finally putting a name to the younger brother you healed a month ago.

“The village, Watercroft, asked my father to rid them of the beast that started killing their livestock and I was supposed to lead the hunting party. I would not do as he said, I cannot,” he looked away, gritted teeth as he spoke about his father like poison to the tongue. You couldn’t blame him, since you’ve lived in the Swamps his father has ruled Oldtown and whilst the locals revered him for peace, you had vehemently disagreed.

“So I drank, complained and let Aemond take the lead — he’s the one who deserves the power, the title, everything. And we’ve heard stories about beasts within the swamplands from travelers and locals, but this was different. A monstrous scourge that devoured six of our men whole before I sobered up enough to realize what was going on. Aemond.. he… he grabbed me and we ran… right into a den of Direwolves.”

You shake your head correcting him, “not Direwolves.” 

“Right.” He agreed quietly.

His story, while jagged and a mess to make sense of slowly began to click into place for you. It was unsettling at best and at worst borderline apocalyptic for the ecosystem within the Swamp and all the land around. There was only one beast in the Swamp capable of doing what he had described and that was Ornmir herself, in her natural corporeal form as a Swamp Drake. But this revelation only offered more questions than answers, the biggest one more alarming than any other speculation you had gone through prior to this.

Why was the spirit of the Swamp so angry?

~~~~~

Tag List: @karlachs-soldier @serving-targaryen-realness @deltamoon666 @bogbutteronmycroissant

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[nonotranslates]

Owen Wizard's Party 2023 SSR Card - [A Mocking Laugh for the Forest Where One Dreams] - Card Story (ft. Akira), Card Episode, Home Screen Voice

====== Card Story: Chapter 1 - Flames To Vanquish Those Thoughts ======

Akira: Haa, haa…… Owen, please wait……! I can’t catch up to your broom on my feet……

Owen: Why do I have to be the one to match your pace? Who is the one who will be in trouble if my protection magic broke off? If anything happens because you strayed too far, I’m not gonna bother about you. 

Akira: Eek, sorry……! I’ll do my best to catch up with you! 

‘Lately, voices of people speaking could be heard from the Forest of Dreams.’ Hearing such rumours, we came to investigate. 

Because Owen is familiar with the forest and happened to be free, he was chosen for this task. Though he looked annoyed from the bottom of his heart, somehow, it seemed as though he had a clue what’s going on. 

Akira: But it really is strange, for voices to be heard so frequently in a forest as empty as this. 

Akira: Though Snow and White both thought it’s likely just spirits or the like hanging around……

???: ……Eee……

At that moment, as the wind blew, I heard something that sounded like a person speaking. 

Akira: Just now, that was...

A man’s voice: ……go…. was it…..

Someone was muttering something. I turned around to look, but all I could see are bushes that reached as far as my knees, with no signs of another person in sight. 

Akira: (D-Don’t tell me it really is a ghost……!?) 

*Rustling sound* 

Owen: Ahh, as I thought. 

Even as I turned pale, Owen paid no attention to me and peered nonchalantly at the bush. 

Owen: That whole ‘voices from the forest’ business is the doing of these things here. 

Akira: This is……

On the other side of the bush, was a patch of mushrooms with caps in the shape of flowers, glowing brilliantly in all the shades of a rainbow. 

Akira: My, what unusual-looking mushrooms. But, what does it have to do with the voices just now……? 

At that very moment, a breeze whirred across us and I could hear voices coming from the mushrooms at my feet. 

A woman’s voice: Oh my, it’s so warm here, I don’t even need a coat anymore. 

Akira: !? The mushroom spoke……!? 

Owen: These things here have the ability to mimic the sounds of humans and animals. It’s so that they can attract creatures to come closer, so that the spores they spread in the wind have something to attach itself to. 

Owen: Its roots can grow in anything, so you should be careful not to let them stick onto your clothes or head. 

Akira: Eh!? T-That’s scary…… 

Owen: Haha. Well, there’s no need to pat your clothes so frantically. 

Owen: After all, it’s not often you get the chance to experience the sensation of something sprouting from your body by piercing through the skin, along with a horribly unbearable pain.  

Akira: That’s not reassuring to hear at all…… That said, to be able to mimic sounds, this sure is a marvelous mushroom. 

Owen: As a result of the influence of the miasma of this forest, there are lots of strange plants and animals here. That said, this mushroom originally wasn’t that much of a talker though. 

Owen: It should’ve been capable of nothing more than the likes of ‘So cold’, or ‘I’m starving’, at most. 

Akira: Is that how it is? But just now, it felt as though I was listening to someone’s conversation…… 

Akira: Could it be that, this is due to the calamity as well? 

Owen: Probably. Having received powers from the moon, perhaps it gained the ability to remember longer sentences now. 

Owen: To remember words from those having their so-called ‘blissful dream’ as they die after arriving at this forest with their lives barely hanging. 

====== Card Story: Chapter 2 - Flames To Vanquish Those Thoughts ======

A frosty wind blew across the forest. 

As if awakening from its slumber, the forest was filled with voices of people on the brink of their death. 

A youthful voice: What’s going on? This strange, wondrous feeling... Even though my legs can’t move, it feels as though I could run to any corner of the world….. 

A hoarse voice: Ahh, how comfortable. I’ll take a nap here and get back to working hard again once I wake up. Gotta do it so that the kids get to eat a nice hearty meal…… 

Akira: …… 

Hearing all that, I was at a loss for words and stood there silently.  

Owen: Haha, they’re all just some worthless, trifling dreams. 

Owen: Those people died miserably just like that, without even having such trivial wishes realized. 

Owen curled his beautiful lips upwards into a wry smile, and laughed in amusement.

Owen: It feels like it’s starting to get somewhat interesting. Guess I’ll listen for a while longer.  

Seemingly in a good mood, Owen hummed as he conjured a teapot and chair, and gracefully took a seat. 

Akira: (He’s going to sit back and relax at a moment like this?!) 

Akira: O-Owen. We came here to investigate in the first place, so we’ll need to prepare a report. If there’s anything we can do to resolve this, I’d love it if you could let me know……

Owen: Some mushrooms just got mutated thanks to the Calamity, that’s all. There’s no particular damage to anything either. 

Owen: What more is there to be said?  

Akira: That’s true, but……

*Sound of wind blowing*

Every time a breeze blows, we hear the voices of someone who is about to meet their end. 

Speaking amid their dreams about those wishes that are lost forever… about the fragments remaining in their hearts. 

Akira: ……Umm, Owen, don’t you feel anything when you hear those voices and what they say? 

Owen: I feel happy, and I can’t help but laugh. Because I love people’s agony.  

Owen: The final moments of insects exhausting all their strength is so meaningless and miserable, it’s just truly delightful. 

Akira: I…… feel a little sad when I hear them. 

Akira: Though each of them have their own different circumstances, when I think about how their lives ended in this forest while having a dream that couldn’t be realized…… 

A young voice: Wow, what a beautiful forest…… 

Suddenly, an innocent voice filled my ears. 

Akira: A child’s voice……? 

A young voice: Even though it was so painful and unbearable just a while ago, I don’t feel any pain anywhere now. I'm not coughing anymore, and my body feels so light. 

A young voice: I wonder who brought me here. I have no memories of who it was, but the one who brought me out of that dark and cramped home, has to be a hero……! 

Owen: ……

Akira: (......I wonder if that child rarely went outside? That child hadn’t even had the chance to grow up, and just like that, in this forest…… )

That young voice was so bright and joyful, I could almost imagine just how tender his smile was. 

A young voice: It’s surely someone strong and cool, isn’t it? I wonder if it’s Sir Prince, or perhaps Sir Knight….. Or perhaps a seasoned warrior. 

A young voice: If my body gets better, I’d love to meet them someday. At that time, I need to tell them properly, ‘Thank you for saving me’......

Owen: Haha…… Just like a fool. 

Saying that, a dry laugh escaped his mouth.

====== Card Story: Chapter 3 - Flames To Vanquish Those Thoughts ======

Owen: Humans really are a foolish and naive bunch. 

Owen: No one will help you. All you do is pray and wait to be rescued, it’s no surprise that no one bothers giving you a single glance. 

Owen: Cur memini. 

*Sound of fire burning*

As his cold, indifferent voice chanted the spell, the mushroom that replayed the child’s voice just now started burning voraciously. 

Facing the rising flames, Owen smiled at it mockingly. 

Owen: Dim-witted losers won’t survive. All they’ll become is sustenance for the forest, gone without a single trace left on this world. 

Owen: Without even meeting that hero they dreamed of, too. 

The flames spread, and the entire patch of mushrooms was engulfed by the flames in no time — turning into a shimmering, brilliant scarlet within the heat. 

It was an intense, yet calming sight. The singed mushrooms turned into black clouds of smoke, continuously rising into the sky. 

Akira: (......It’s as if the souls are ascending into heaven.) 

Though I’m sure that wasn’t Owen’s intentions at all. 

But to me, it seemed as though the thoughts of those people that were smouldering within the forest got their burial thanks to his flames. 

(Some time passed in the forest) 

Akira: Looks like the mushrooms are all burnt. ……Huh, Owen, what are you doing? 

Owen: *gnaws*

Owen picked up the burnt mushroom and nonchalantly stuffed it into his mouth. 

Akira: Ehh!? Is that thing safe to eat!? 

Owen: I only ever put edible things in my mouth. You see, this mushroom here becomes sweet and tasty once it’s roasted. 

Owen: If you’re curious, why not give it a try? Even if a human ate it, it probably won’t kill them. 

Akira: I-I see. I think I’ll pass on that….. 

Owen: Hmm okay, whatever. 

Turning away from me, Owen started stuffing his mouth with the mushrooms, savouring each bite of the beautifully roasted fungi. 

*Sound of wind blowing*

Even if the wind blows, no voices could be heard any longer. All that filled the forest was silence. 

Akira: Even if it’s just the natural trait of a mushroom, when you hear the echoes of the voices of people who are long gone, it felt as though their souls were trapped in this place. 

Akira: So that’s why, by setting those flames upon them, it feels as though you’ve helped out a little there, or perhaps I could say, brought some relief. 

Akira: Though perhaps it’s just me getting above myself……  

Owen: That has nothing to do with me. I just returned the forest back to how it should have been, that’s all there is to it. 

Having turned around towards me, Owen threw a mushroom into his mouth and gulped it down his throat loudly. 

Owen: The people who come to this forest are just so preoccupied with themselves, that other people’s voices become mere noise to them. 

Owen: This is the forest of dreams. A place where one has cruel, blissful, selfish dreams about themselves and no one else. 

Owen: Dying while the body and mind is engrossed in a dream… Tormenting these people at their final moments is what I love so much after all. 

Owen spoke on, his tone as if singing a sweet melody, and slowly narrowed his eyes. 

The smile on his face was a cruel one, yet even seemed to harbour a hint of gentleness within it.

====== Card Episode: Seeking That Flavour ======

*Sound of fire burning*

Akira: Huh, Owen. Are you making a bonfire? 

Owen: Something like that. But not for warmth though. 

Akira: Ah, there’s some rougeberries inside the flames….. I see, so it was for roasting them.  

Owen: Sort of. That day, I ate those mushrooms in the Forest of Dreams, remember? The one that tastes sweet and yummy after roasting. 

Owen: I was thinking that maybe there’d be a fruit with a similar taste to that, and tried roasting a few other fruits to see. But somehow, every one of them had a different taste from it. 

Akira: I see…… That mushroom you were talking about, how exactly does it taste like though? 

Owen: Burnt clay. 

Akira: C-Clay……? 

Owen: Yup. It’s sweet and sticky, and sticks to your mouth. But its skin is like some rough, old paper full of scabs, 

Owen: And then, sometimes as I eat it, my throat gets stucked with it, causing me to almost suffocate. 

Akira: (Something so sweet and sticky that you’d suffocate……?)

Akira: ……Ah, I think I got it. I guess it’s probably something similar to roasted potatoes? 

Akira: I go see if there’s still any sweet po…… Nougat potato left in the kitchen. 

Owen: Oh? Looks like you can be useful at times too. Once I’ve roasted that potato, shall I let you have some? 

Akira: Eh, may I? 

Owen: Yup. Since it’s not often we get the chance, I’ll use illusion magic to make its appearance similar to that of that mushroom. 

Owen: Since at that time, you seemed uncomfortable and wouldn’t put it inside your mouth.  

Owen: Shall I add on the voices that we’ve heard so much of at the Forest of Dreams as a freebie? I’ll be happy to reproduce your favourite one for you.  

Akira: J-Just normal roasted potatoes will do……!

====== Home Screen Voice ======

Owen:……The people who escaped into the Forest of Dreams, is just like the me of that time. That’s why, I want to torment them.

======

I love how we got more official confirmation that Owen is a shitposter who will start flaming shit, then grab a cup of tea to sit back and watch the world burn. that's my boy

[staycalmandhugaclone]

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved!

Part 2 of Fever.

Febuwhump Day 11

Warnings: TW: symptoms of withdrawal, accidental drug exposure via fungal spores, sense of impeding doom, high fever, vomiting, delirium-induced violence, strangulation, cursing, needles/IV

WC: 5,812 (Don't worry, it's not a cliffhanger ;) )

Wrecker caught up with us about halfway there, and I was too happy to let him take his brother from me, painful gasps just hinting at the taste of iron as I forced myself to keep running. Hunter stayed back to join up with Crosshair, but I knew they’d be mere minutes behind us once we reached the ship.

“Hold on, Wrecker.” I called, racing ahead of him to the medbay. He paused before following after me, watching in silence as I ripped the mattress from my cot and threw it to the ground. “Okay, go ahead and set him down.” I didn’t look at them, focus locked on my own task of rapidly gathering supplies.

“Listen to me: you need to get in the sonic; armor and all. Don’t take anything off until after it goes through a full cycle – alright? Let me know immediately if you start to feel light-headed or confused.” I left no room for argument as I turned my full attention to Wrecker, and I saw the hesitation steal over him.

“Y-Yeah… ‘right.” Before he’d even left, I was kneeling on the floor beside the mattress, already dragging sterilizing wipes over every inch of Tech’s armor and exposed skin, the cot, the wall behind him, and finally over my own armor as well before carefully removing that pale plastoid from his nearly limp body. Only after stashing it and my own in a pressure sealed bin and repeating the thorough cleaning did I tentatively remove my own helmet.

“Tech?” I gently pulled him onto his side as I called his name, hand lingering on his shoulder. That slow, leisurely breathing hesitated. “Tech… sweetie, can you hear me?” His eyes shifted behind closed lids for a long moment before, with visible effort, forcing himself to look at me. “Hey,” I murmured warmly, touch trailing slowly along his arm, “How are you feeling?” His brows dipped together, mind churning over my words.

“S… sleepy? -no…” He waved away his initial response, arm barely shifting with the attempted movement. “M-dis… disor’ntated; th’nk…” His throat bobbed. “Hmm… th’sty?” He looked at me for some confirmation to his theory, as though he couldn’t be sure of even that base need.

“We’re going to keep that helmet on for a few more minutes – until I know for sure that I got you all cleaned up – then we’ll get you something to drink.” His gaze flicked between my eyes and my lips, straining to follow even the gentle cadence of my carefully slowed speech.

“Mm… your… you dn’t…” His hand shifted toward my head, and I shot him a smile.

“That’s how I’ll know.” I explained calmly. The spores were too small to be reliably picked up by the scanner, but I’d sooner risk my own exposure than subjecting him to even more of the terrible substance. He tried to frown, facial muscles twitching uncertainly as though they’d forgotten exactly how to form the expression. “Don’t worry, I’m just being extra careful.” I assured him, and that seemed to be enough to ease his concerns.

“Feels… weird.” He muttered, and I couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. I vaguely heard Wrecker’s voice rumble through the ship, certain he was warning Hunter against entering the medbay – that there was some contamination.

“I bet.” I shifted to sit beside him on the bed, intentionally keeping that softness in my voice. The spores his body had already absorbed wouldn’t last long in the wake of the medicine I’d given him. With what was to come, I intended to grant him whatever sliver of bliss he could get before the coming crash.

“Like I’m… n’c’poreal.” He shifted to glance wearily at his hand, fingers dancing before him in unhurried movements.

“Really?” I goaded, and gently let my hand trace over his, interlacing his fingers with my own. “Hmm, feel pretty solid to me.” He turned up to me with such awe in his eyes, I wanted to sob.

“Or you’re j’s ‘s sur’r’l as me?” He breathed the question as though it was too great a secret to risk speaking any louder. The Marauder began to come to life around us, quickly taking to the air to carry us from the ruin left in out wake.

“And if I was?” I asked, voice dropping into a whisper to match his, “Would we go floating through the galaxy together? Watch supernovas burst into newborn nebula? Or maybe we could see the flutterwings forming in their cocoons?” His fingers gingerly curled around mine, gaze studying that touch with a profound fascination before looking back to me.

“We c’ld f’llow a p’d of purrg’ls.” He proposed as though he’d just reached a major breakthrough. “Disc’v’r how they… they tr’vel in lightspeed!” His hand tensed with each word, imploring me for some whisper of permission.

“If we were incorporeal,” I tucked closer to him, quiet words flitting through a beaming smile, “You and I could study purrgils and flutterwings and everything in between.” The excitement burning in those wide eyes lingered for mere seconds more before withering, touch pulling away from me.

“B’ if y’ leave…” The emotion choking through the clumsy words tore through me, ripping the air form my lungs in a silent gasp. “… ‘ll be alone.” I tried to take a slow breath, but it shattered hopelessly against my lips, eyes burning beneath the threat of tears.

“Listen to me, Tech,” I was begging him, curling over my knees to slip my hands around his helmet in hopes of drawing his gaze back to mine. “I’m right here. Okay?” The words broke, and I had to fight to steady them, “I’m right here, and I swear: I’m not going to leave you.” His eyes turned pointedly away from me. “I was just scared.” I continued as the first drop slid down my cheek. “I was so scared that I was going to be the reason one of you got hurt… I just want to keep you safe.” Those last words barely managed to escape on a fleeting whisper, but it was enough to pull his eyes back to mine.

“Tha’s illogic’l.” The confusion in his retort ripped a sob of laughter from me. “You h’lp us when we ge’ h’rt.” My eyes slid shut, chin dipping to my chest as I tried to quiet the guilt and regret raging through me.

“You’re right.” I finally managed to sigh, “I think I just got a little confused… but I’m here now, and I’m going to stay for as long as you and your brothers will have me.” He seemed to think over this a moment before nodding.

“S’good.”

In the few minutes we’d been speaking, I hadn’t noticed any beginning traces of confusion or dizziness, granting me some reassurance that there were no lingering threat of exposure.

“I think it’s safe.” I started quietly. “Is it okay if I take your helmet off?” He barely waited for me to finish speaking before nodding, and he tilted his head up expectantly. With the utmost care, I eased it gently from him, smirk twisting over my lips at the disaster of flattened curls lying underneath.

“Dn’t th’nk I like it.” He muttered, and my heart sank, quickly setting his bucket aside to bring my hand up to whisper over his cheek. He melted against the touch, eyes falling shut beneath a deep weariness.

“Don’t like what?” I asked despite being painfully aware of the coming answer.

“F’ls… can’t… c’n’t th’nk.” His breathing steadily quickened, brows just beginning to tense. He looked toward his hand once more with a growing discomfort. “…is… ‘m I… ‘m I fall’ng?”

“No,” I practically cooed the word, bringing my other hand to his face as well, fueled by some shred of hope that he might glean even a whisper of comfort from my presence. “No, Tech. We’re on the Marauder. We’re not falling.” His breath suddenly turned panicked, throat shifting in a failed attempt to swallow.

“Okay, shh, it’s going to be okay.” I murmured quickly, hand shifting to drag slow circles over his back.

“Hm… m-mmm” He shook his head, eyes clenching as the first hints of a tremble began to steal over him. “Are w-we’re crashing.” His hand darted to the mattress in jolted, unsteady movements. “E-Echo… balance r… the r’pulser l’fts…” His hand reached out for the control panel, movement growing more frantic as he passed the distance it should have been. “Wh-where.”

“Tech, I want you to try to listen to me.” I tried to pull his gaze back to mine, but his eyes kept shifting blindly around us. “You were exposed to spores from Rokna blue tree fungus. Do you know what that is?” Something between a grunt and a hum caught in his throat, body tensing beneath a vain attempt to sit up. I quickly shifted behind him, arm looping around his chest to pull him up against me.

“B… blue tr… It’s… mmm… a po-potent narcotic…” The words fell absently from his lips before managing to understand what he’d said, and a terrible stillness stole through him. “M… ‘m I dying?”

“No.” The word burst from me in a sharp whispered. “No-no, Tech, I gave you something to neutralize it. The fact that you’re already coming down means it worked. Okay? Do you understand what that means?” The way he stiffened against me was answer enough, but he still gave a small nod.

“Okay…” I breathed, arms wrapping firmly around him, if only to grant myself some whisper of reassurance. “Listen to me: I’m going to stay right here. Okay? I’m going to be with you the entire time.” His torso hitched; the only warning I had before a violent heave tore through him. I just had time to lean around him to snatch a bin from the pile of supplies I’d dropped at the bedside. His hands clawed uselessly at the sides of the container, body doubling over beneath the force of his convulsing stomach.

A violent shiver nearly ripped him from my hold as the attack finally eased, robbing him of the strength to even hold himself up. Quickly setting aside the bin, I shifted onto my knees to hold him more firmly against me before reaching for a hydropack and bringing it to his lips.

“Don’t swallow – I just want you to rinse your mouth, first, okay?” It took several seconds for him to respond before weakly drawing in some of the liquid. Balancing the pouch on the cot, I moved a fresh bin toward him to spit the fouled water into. “Good.” I murmured gently before returning it to the floor to grab the pouch once more. “Okay, now drink – just a few sips.”

“You sh… you sh’ld leave.” Already, he sounded so painfully weak.

“No, honey…” I murmured, forehead dipping down to gently brush against his hair. “I know this is hard, but you’ll get through it – and I’m going to help you as much as I can. Alright? I’m not leaving you alone.”

“S-symp-ptoms inclu-include… intermi-mittent loss-ss of luc-luc-c-idy…” The pain stealing that gorgeous clarity from his voice broke me with each stammer of those carefully emotionless words. “I c-I could-could… hurt y-you.” Despite the fresh flood of tears I couldn’t begin to fight back, I drew a gentle smile across my lips. Even in the face of the nightmare just beginning to crash down around him, he was worried about me… Leaning around him so I could gently catch his gaze, I stared into eyes resigned to the coming suffering with all the love and heartbreak and patience I could.

“We’re going to be fine, Tech. I promise.” I breathed the words, willing them into him as I shifted the hydrpack closer to him. “Now, I want you try to drink.” The sight of the exhaustion and defeat stealing over him was an agony in its own right, but I offered a relieved smile as he reluctantly forced a few sips of water down his raw throat.

-

“N-n… sto-stop, please, pl-stop, stop.” He was begging, body rocking listlessly atop the sweat-soaked mattress as I tried desperately to feed the IV into a new vein. He’d managed to rip out the three prior, and still continued hemorrhaging fluids from the merciless fever that had long since rent him into a barely conscious, shivering mess.

“It’s just saline, Tech – I promise; it’s just saline.” I’d already given him what muscle relaxers and fever suppressors I could, but still he shook so violently, twice I’d thought he was seizing. Pinning his wrist against my thigh, I finally managed to slip the needle through too-pale skin. The scream that tore from his lips made my stomach churn, and I had to press the entirety of my weight against the limb to keep him from ripping it away from me before I could secure it beneath a web of tape.

“Don-don’t… I can’t…” Shattered gasps broke between hopeless sobs. “No more… n-no more tests! Please, please.” His arm continued jerking against my hold, but there was no strength to the movements.

“No tests, baby, I promise. Just try to breathe, okay?” I kneeled on the very edge of the cot, nearly hovering over him. As the fever began to build in that first hour, he’d tried once more to convince me to leave, but still I’d refused. After hitting lightspeed, Hunter tried to join me, but I merely shook my head; knowing it wouldn’t be long before Tech would be unable to recognize any of us. I didn’t want him to feel surrounded; outnumbered. On a barely whispered breath, I’d told the Sergeant as much, eager to keep that knowledge from Tech for as long as possible, and none of the others had made any further attempts to enter the medbay since.

Lips hanging open around too-shallow gasps, he tried to roll over, but I quickly reached out to stop him. Before I could breathe a word of warning toward the threat of aspirating, his free arm lashed out, slamming into my chest with enough force to launch me back onto the hard floor with a thud, lungs seizing in a moment of panic as my diaphragm balked. Forcing my body to move, driven by the simple fear that he’d rip the IV out once more, I staggered back to his side on my knees, but he seemed not to notice the thin tubing attached to his hand. Still, I couldn’t leave him on his back.

“Tech,” His name sounded choked as it crawled up my throat. “Honey, I need to move you.” My hand settled gently against his shoulder for a moment. When he didn’t respond, I carefully slipped it around his back and hauled him onto his side once more. He’d been like this for well over an hour, fluttering between incoherent panic and brief lapses into unconsciousness.

Body sinking beneath my own exhaustion, I watched the weariness drag against my movements as I reached for the cloth he’d knocked off in his outburst. I couldn’t count how many times I’d rewet that scrap of fabric to drag atop his balmy skin, but I found myself repeating the motion with the same tenderness as if it were the first; carefully sweeping it over his forehead, down his face and neck, through his hair.

“… Doc?” My eyes darted to his in shock.

“Hey,” I sighed through a gentle smile, “I’m here – I’m right here.” I shifted the cloth through his hair once more.

“Am… f-feels like... I f-fear you mis… miscalculated.” Snips of words tangled against listless lips, exhausted eyes weakly searching for mine. He must have seen my confusion because he forced himself to explain. “I… feels… like I’m dying.” My shoulders sank, chest twisting beneath the agony in his voice.

“I know,” I murmured, bringing my other hand up to whisper against his cheek. “I know, but this will pass, Tech. He weakly managed to shake his head.

“W… where are…”

“Your brothers?” I offered. He hesitated, struggling to make sense of what I’d said before nodding.

“They’re just outside.” I assured him. “Would you like to see them?” He quickly shook his head.

“Not… not l-like this.” The shame in that quiet plea twisted the knife lodged in my chest, and I didn’t want to think of the hurt it must have caused Hunter.

“Tech, this isn’t your fault.” If he heard the quiet whisper, he made no attempt to answer. Moments later, he seized beneath a violent shudder, knees curling into his chest, eyes ground shut.

“P..pl… Maker, it h-hurts…” Teeth catching at the inside of my cheek, I drew in a carefully slowed breath.

“I know.” Resting the cloth atop his neck, I gently carded my fingers through his hair. “I know, Tech, I’m s”

“Please… ca-can you…” His jaw shifted silently a moment, “There-there must be s-something?” I would have given anything to ease even a sliver of his pain, but he and I both knew there was nothing.

“Tech, I”

“Then why are you here?!” He suddenly snapped, arm sweeping out to push me away from him, and I instantly schooled my face for the coming storm. “If you’d returned to the 104th, we might have been granted a competent medic!” In an instant, that rage abandoned him beneath a flood of regret. “I… I apologize-I…” Even if I hadn’t known to expect it, the horror in those eyes would have been enough to rid me of any anger.

“Shh,” I breathed, already moving forward to continue slipping my fingers through those sweat-soaked curls. “It’s okay, Tech.” His expression crumbled, breaths just threatening to hitch.

“That… n-no, that is… inc-correct; I…” His shoulders bunched against his chest, gaze dropping sharply from me. “I am… I’m sorry…” His voice broke into a sob, and my arms instantly darted out to pull him against me. He didn’t hesitate against the sudden touch, shifting eagerly into it.

“Please,” The fear and desperation bleeding through that hiccupped word ruined me, and the final sliver of my own control crumbled. Tears poured from my eyes as I held him. “Please stay.” He buried the plea against my chest arm shaking beneath the effort to move, but the instant his touch brushed atop the sleek fabric over my shoulder, his fingers locked around me. I pressed my lips to the clammy skin just below his hairline, let them drag against him as I strained to force my stiff throat to form a reply.

“I’ll stay.” I murmured, “I swear, Tech; I’ll stay as long as you want.” The near silent sobs shaking through him rent my heart into shattered pieces, and I held him even tighter for it.

“It… it hurts…” My fingers clawed through his hair, a sob of my own ripping through me at his desperate words.

“I know, honey; I know… I’ve got you…” My torso began to move, rocking ever so gently as I held him. “Shh, I’ve got you.” He seemed to fade, mind falling into the abyss of pain and a fever too cruel to allow him even a moment’s relief from true sleep as he shuttered against me, so I continued to whisper to him, one arm held firmly around his back to keep him pressed against me as my other hand trailing absently through his hair.

“Hm-hmm.” A trembled hum caught in his throat, head jerking weakly against me.

“Shh, just try to sleep.” I murmured, begged, but those few moments of stillness broke as that jolted motion began to spread through his torso, his arms, legs only just managing to shift beneath him.

“H… hot-too… too hot.” He panted, pulling away from me to reach absently for his shirt. “Bur… it burns…” His fingers clawed at his neckline, vainly wrenching the fabric away from his skin.

“Okay, okay; you want that off?” I asked, already reaching for a set of sheers.

“I-it’s… m-my skin… reac-reacting… che-chemical burns? – I-I…”

“It’s hypersensitivity, Tech – no burns.” I promised even as I dragged the scissors down the length of fabric curving along his back. His spine arched violently forward at the faintest brush of metal against his skin, breath huffing between teeth ground against the screams beginning for release, and my heart churned beneath the flood of guilt.

“Shh – I’ve almost got it.” I promised before starting on his arms. The sob of relief as the cloth finally fell away was no less heartbreaking than the agony that had preceded it. “Do you want me to stop touching you?” I asked quietly despite how he continued leaning heavily against my chest. He quickly shook his head, hands shooting back toward me, fingers clawing into the fabric stretched over my ribs.

“Okay,” I murmured, letting my touch resume a featherlight dance through his hair, along his back, down his arms, only just whispering against the blistering heat radiating from his skin lest even a breadth of pressure ignite a fresh hurt through those terribly sensitive nerves.

He’d nearly fallen from the bed entirely in his plea for that contact, slowly dragging himself closer toward me in that desperate search for comfort. I glanced toward the nearby wall, eager for some support amidst the strain of holding his weight.

“I’m going to move just a bit, okay?” Again, I let my lips drag atop his sweat-soaked forehead. He managed only a shuddered whimper, but offered no objection as I carefully shifted onto the cot, pulling him gently with me until I could lean my back against the wall, sighing from the relief of ridding the strain from my abs. My eyes wondered to the line still miraculously connected to his hand, pleased to see the much-needed fluids still flowing into that vein.

“You’re doing so well, Tech. Just breathe with me… I’m right here.”

I watched the shivers ripple down the knots of tortured muscle lining his back, stretching over his ribs, his shoulders, felt his body seize beneath the relentless hurt, felt my heart twist at the occasional snips of broken pleas that shattered against his lips. I absently found myself glancing toward the chrono, and my heart dropped. Six hours. Six hours had passed since the fever first robbed his skin of that rich bronze in favor of blotched red against a frightful paleness.

I was exhausted, struggling to merely keep my eyes open even as I frequently found myself wrestling against subconscious, violent flails as he struggled against unseen nightmares. Twice more, I’d been too slow to avoid those sudden movements and could feel the swollen balls of tissue throbbing against my cheek and jaw, felt the bruises in every shift of my arms from when his fingers had locked into such a desperate grip around me, I’d feared the bones might shatter in his grasp. And still, that fever ravaged him.

“Wh…” Awareness jolted back through me with a physical ache, attention turning back to the man still nestled firmly against me. “… why?”

“Shh,” I breathed, ducking down to touch my lips back to his forehead as I whispered to him.

“Wh-I…I was s-successful-I…” He shook his head, shoulders tensing.

“I know, Tech; you didn’t do anything wrong.” I promised him, fingers trailing through his hair.

“Th-then why… why are you d-doing this?” I wanted to sob. I wanted to yield and run and beg for even a moment’s reprieve, breaking beneath the thought of going through this again.

“You’re just sick, honey; you just need to bre”

“Stop telling me to breathe!” He roared suddenly, and I felt those pitiful reserves of strength begin to abandon me, body deflating beneath him.

“Okay,” I murmured, “Okay, Tech; I’m sorry.”

“Then sto… stop… stop it…” The anger and desperation twisting through that plea would never stop haunting me; the wretched knowledge that there was nothing I could do to help him.

“I’m n… Tech, I’m not” The guilt-ridden words cut off in a gasp, eyes flaring wide amidst of sudden jolt of panic. He wasn’t looking at me, not really; gaze fluttering blindly in the air between us as his hands tightened into a vice around my neck.

“S-st-s… stop…” The stammered order continued in halting spurts, body rocking unsteadily beneath the taut muscles driving him forward, pinning me to the wall. My jaw craned open, diaphragm seizing, but could force no breath of air or whisper of speech around his hold. My feet kicked against the cot, torso bucking, hands latching around his, but I couldn’t escape him. Already, darkness crept along the edges of my vision. It felt like falling.

Tap-tap-tap.

Abandoning my grip on his wrist, I slammed my knuckles against the wall.

Tap…tap…tap…

Please…

Tap-tap-tap.

My mouth felt weird, like my teeth were swelling.

Tap…tap…

The muscles flickered amidst nearly forgotten pleas for movement.

Tap…

Heavy… the strange awareness of my body beginning to simply… relax…

The retching gasp of air screaming back into my lungs consumed me; the feeling of my jaw stretching open, body convulsing into a tight ball as my hands clawed at my throat and my shoulders hunched around me, anything to somehow guard the abused flesh of my neck as I struggled to make some sense of why I was trembling, why I still felt like I was suffocating.

Belatedly, I noted the feeling of something shifting below my cheek; holding me; someone calling my name. Void of any real thought, my eyes absently sought out that familiar voice, noting only the blurred outline of someone kneeling over me before my mind faltered beneath the crushing weight of exhaustion, body eagerly sinking back toward the promise of sleep.

“Look at me, dammit!” Something dragged painfully over my sternum, wrenching a sharp whimper from me, muscles seizing in a useless attempt to escape it as my eyes turned back toward the figure. Crosshair… why? His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear his words, awareness flickering in those final few seconds before I heard his screams.

With a gasp, my head snapped up, gaze darting toward that stomach churning sound. Hunter had Tech trapped in a lock, arms looped about his chest and shoulders, and my heart broke at the agony I knew that pressure sent tearing through heightened nerves and ruined muscles.

“No!” The choked rasp that shattered against the raw flesh of my throat sent a violent wave of coughs seizing through me even as I staggered to pull myself toward them.

“Stop trying to kriffing move!” Crosshair ordered, but I only vaguely noted the way those elegant hands shifted over my jaw in an attempt to judge the damage, legs already scrambling beneath me to throw myself forward. I couldn’t make out their shouts over the sharp ringing that filled my ears, the way it seemed to thrum in sync with the frantic beating of my heart, but that didn’t matter. Tech couldn’t even scream anymore, writhing against Hunter’s restraining hold.

“Let him go!” The words cracked as I reached for him, crashing to my knees as my arms carefully looped around his head to draw him back against my chest. “Now! Let him go!” I roared, enraged at even that brief moment of hesitation, at the objection barking from his lips that I still couldn’t fully understand, but, slowly, Hunter yielded.

Instantly, Tech’s hands darted to me, clawing against my hips before they jerked up to my ribs, my shoulders, fingers burring into me as though I were the only thing keeping him from tumbling back into that frightful hell.

“Okay-okay; it’s okay Tech.” I fought to whisper the words even as my body continued to tremble nearly as violently as his, robbing my voice of that gentle quiet I so wanted to offer him. “Sh-shh; listen, listen… what do you hear?” I sighed into his hair. He stilled for just a moment, and I could feel his mind churning over my words, searching for an answer.

“H… heartbeat… t’s… t-tachycardic…” There was no strength in the listless response, but I still felt a rush of relief from it.

“Good,” I murmured warmly, “That’s perfect, Tech… What-what do we do for that?” The words caught slightly, throat balking against the strain of speech.

“Beta… beta blockers.” My fingers danced against his scalp, eyes sliding shut as I rested my cheek lightly against him.

“That’s right… but wh…” Maker, I was so tired… “what if we don’t have any?” Some of that tension began to slip away from him, and I had to lock an arm around his back to keep him from falling.

“…breathing… breathing exercises have-have been shown t-to help.” He sounded mere seconds away from slipping back into that taunting near-sleep.

“Yeah? Can you show me?” I pressed quietly. He let out something that sounded almost like an exasperated sigh, and I couldn’t help but let a huff of laughter escape me.

“Very well.” He nearly muttered, and, a moment later, his shoulders rose in some semblance of a deep inhale, paused, and then slowly released it.

“That was perfect, Tech… can you show me that again?” He didn’t bother responding before straining to repeat the deep breath. Halfway through the exhale, he went limp, and I only just managed to catch him against me. Hunter’s hand quickly darted to my shoulder, and I nearly collapsed at even that whisper of support, chest still shaking beneath too-shallow pants.

“Let me take him, Doc.” He murmured, already reaching for him. I quickly shook my head, but it took a moment before I managed to gather the strength to respond.

“He’s… he won’t be out long.” I heard the hopelessness just tinting my breathy words but couldn’t begin to fight it back.

“You’ve barely got your eyes open. Go get some rest; we can take care of him for a while.”

“Clearly.” The venom in my voice shocked us both, and I had to let out a slow sigh to gather my thoughts. “He’s… he’s not… lucid… most of the time, he’s just… he’s scared and confused, and he’s in so much pain, but he can’t understand why.” His touch shifted gently against me, and I barely bit back a sob. “I know… I know what to look for; if there’s anything I can give him to help.”

“That didn’t stop him from nearly killing you.” Crosshair retorted in a scowl. I started to look for him, but abandoned the effort halfway, eyes falling shut once more.

“He… he didn’t know”

“It doesn’t matter if he knows what’s happening or not. You think he’ll be okay with strangling you half to death because he didn’t know he was doing it?” Hunter pressed. I briefly fought for some argument, some logic behind my refusal amidst the muddled thoughts storming senselessly through me.

“I promised him.” I finally breathed, begging him to understand as my already unsteady breaths grew even choppier. “I-I promised I wouldn’t leave him.” My hold tightened around the still listless man in my arms, unfazed by the sharp tang of sweat clinging to damp skin, the nauseating heat still radiating from trembling muscles. Hunter let out a slow breath.

“You can’t be serious.” Crosshair growled. “If we’d been any slower, she’d be dead.”

“Do you know what to do if he starts seizing? Or if he stops breathing?” There was a weary patience in the Sergeant’s voice as he quietly met that piercing glare with an unfettered calm that only sharpened the scowl pulling at Crosshair’s lips before turning back to me.

“We’re going to take shifts with you.” I started to object, to remind him of Tech’s reluctance for his brother’s to see him like this, but that argument felt frightfully weak in the wake of the hurt still shooting through my neck at each stolen breath. He offered a grateful nod at the resignation that stole through me.

“Do you want help getting him back to the bed?” He asked, voice dropping into something of a murmur. My jaw shifted but fell still before managing an actual response. He didn’t need one. As soon as I began drawing some hint of movement through my limbs, he crouched down to ease Tech’s still limp body from me. I couldn’t hide the grimace of worn muscles balking from the movement, but forced myself to stay with him, hands carefully supporting his head until he was resting on his side once more.

I barely noticed the way I kneeled over him, shaking hand still gently carding through his hair as my eyes slid shut until the sound of the door closing pulled me back to a reluctant awareness. Gaze lazily sweeping over the room behind me, I couldn’t help the way my breath caught slightly to find Crosshair treading silently toward me.

He didn’t say anything, jaw grinding absently as troubled eyes seemed unsure where they should be looking, but, when he lowered himself to a knee, he finally glanced up at me, and the stillness that stole through him was infectious. Melting into that stillness, he slowly turned his attention to the tube of bacta I hadn’t noticed him grab. Movements quiet in a way that left me frozen before him, he collected some of that blue gel onto the tips of those skilled fingers and gently moved to smear it over the throbbing flesh of my neck, gaze meeting mine for just one more stolen moment before turning back to his task.

I barely breathed as his touch trailed over my jaw, up my cheek, those piercing eyes revealing every inch of skin abused in one of his brother’s fits. I had to stop myself from sinking into that touch, yearning for the release of merely letting him hold me, even if only for a moment, like he had that awful night, but I didn’t move when he finally pulled away from me; tried not to let him see the flash of disappointment as I turned my attention back to confirm Tech had yet to stir.

“Here.” I glanced toward him just enough to see the hydropack held toward me. “Drink.” He pressed when I didn’t immediately move to take it. Limb belatedly remembering how to function, I watched my hand reach out, careful to maintain at least some whisper of distance between our fingers before pulling it toward me. My throat balked at that first sip, face twisting in a sharp wince. I tried not to notice the frown pull at his lips as I set the pouch down after only that first drink before hugging my knees to my chest, cheek settling heavily atop my arm, gaze shifting wearily back to the trembling figure atop my bed.

Crosshair and I needed to talk. I knew that, but it still wasn’t the time for such things.

Next Chapter

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[anxiousgaypanicking]

what about hypnotic flowers/pollen? Like, one of the twins plants them one day for anyone to come across, and they release their spores when someone gets close enough, resulting in a dumbed-down and dazed side for anyone to do with as they please?

ive kind of written hypnotic plant stuff (both for hypnovember im pretty sure). one with janus giving roman flowers that produced aphrodisac infused pollen that made him horny and the second with janus brewing hypnotic plants into tea

but i COMPLETELY agree. hypnotic spores and pollen, with a side sneezing first, and collapsing after, falling into the midst of a beautifully planted gardens, pollen and petals kicked up beside them and their flushed, dazed face as flowers puff and produce more and more spores into the air until the side is just so blissful and happy and perfectly malleable!

[jojo-javabean24]

Hello again, all! After working on this for two months straight, I’m glad to finally reveal my next art piece of my Tav, Teagan. In his story, Teagan doesn’t know that he comes from a long line of Druids blessed with the ability to wildshape into Myconids (Aka Fungal Folk), and he figures this out the hard way after finally getting off of Bliss, the drug hindering his powers to begin with. He doesn’t know how to properly control it, so he asks Halsin for help in learning how to wildshape, but his form comes out corrupted, feral, and half complete from the years of abuse he’s endured. It’ll take time for him to get his Fungal form under control, but once he does he’ll be a force to be reckoned with. 😈

I got inspiration from the Clickers in the Last of Us game, and tried putting a little twist on it to fit into Teagan’s backstory. Making the spores was probably my favorite part! I’m getting started on the uncorrupted version of Teagan’s Fungal shape, and it’s a fun drawing challenge I look forward to. :)

[ranger-rai]

Is beedrill abdomen stinger really dangerous?

What thier venom from thier abdomen stinger look like? And how thier abdomen stinger can stung through skin and how this inject venom out into wound? And is its ok if trainer that have beedrill touch thier abdomen stinger if they want to clean up beedrill or beedrill gonna stung that trainer if they touch their stinger?

Oh, you're talking to the right guy, Bliss here has given myself and many others their fair share of stings and lucky for you. It's not too serious.

I get the feeling you're the same person who was asking about spores the other day, and it's great that you're asking so many questions, you should meet my Boss, Jo, she's an expert in poison and venom research!

Now Beedrill have a few different Venom types.

The venom you might see in combat is pretty strong but non-lethal, as most poison is for combat typically.

However, they do have a more concentrated venom they might try to sting something with, usually something they find as food or a threat to their hive.

This venom comes directly from their abdomen stinger and is usually a cloudy clear color.

This venom usually causes swelling or allergic reactions in small doses, but if they release a large dosage, they could paralyze a human for a good few hours, and a large pokemon like an Ursaring for 30 minuets to an hour, it all depends on their size.

This might sound dangerous, but Beedrill Venom has actually been incorporated into medical practice as a numbing agent before surgeries and procedures, as well as remedies for certain infections.

Ultimately, I'd advise against messing with a Beedrill as their stings aren't pleasant, and you could be in some serious danger if you catch a swarm, but in small doses, it's not so bad.

[neeoooon]

FFXIV Write 2024, Prompt 4 "Reticent"

One Hour of One Night in the Black Shroud 882 words ARR, Mild swearing

“Pmph!” 

Holiday’s ass hit the damp, rocky, worm-filled ground with a sound between a “puff” and a “plop.”

She landed first on the left asscheek, followed immediately by the right elbow. The elbow, in an act of vengeance against the body, slipped on a patch of wet moss, rocketing her head into the dirt. A momentary return to the bliss of thoughtless oblivion. 

The void faded, and with eyes open and ears ringing, Holiday attempted to center herself. It was nighttime. She was no longer in a basement casino. A tiny tree slug crawled gently across her knee, welcoming her to the forest with a wiggle of its eyestalks. The slug’s slime trail glistened and sparkled, reflecting moonlight in repugnant beauty. A wet leaf tickled the back of her neck. Through the dim light and a concussed brain, the Black Shroud appeared a majestic and ethereal place of untold wonder. 

“Don’t come back, asshole. I memorized your face.” 

The slug had spoken, or so she believed, and it was a rude little bastard. How could she “come back” when she just arrived? Why was it being so mean? She turned inward to reflect on what could have offended the slug.

Two towering Viera men, who had chucked her on her backside, impatiently waited for a response. Viera A, the one who had spoken, shook his head wearily. Viera B, who had slightly shorter hair than A, turned away.

“It’s late, shouldn’t we head back?” He was already leaving. “I saw her move. She’s fine.”

“Oh, is the little baby scared of the forest? Might get a spider in your hair?”

Viera A bellowed a mocking laugh at his buddy, the sound cracking through the eerily silent evening.

Startled out of her stupor by the onset of an argument, she sat up and turned toward the two men. The dark world around her swam and warped; through blurry eyes the men and forest merged. Hybrid rabbit-tree creatures loomed in the darkness, waving their branch-like arms. Creature B turned and swung at Creature A, connecting with nothing but fog and spores. The two traded sloppy punches until one doubled over. 

“Stop. I’m sorry, okay? Enough.” Viera B crumpled into a pathetic, defeated ball.  “My shift is almost over. Go back on your own.”

Viera A lingered, covertly trying to catch his breath. “I will, uh,” he inhaled through his nose, “I will see you tomorrow.” 

Thunder rumbled overhead, shaking the local animals from their nests. A bat or bird screeched as it flew out of the inky, verdant abyss, landing on a branch just behind the trio. Holiday craned her neck, chin to the sky, trying to see the animal: It was a bird. Locking eyes with a great brown owl, she felt the power of the forest rise within her. She was very drunk.

“Hey, you sons of bitches!” Staggering to her feet, Holiday tried to square up. She looked around and found one Viera missing, and the other walking off slowly. “Hey! Hey you! Hey! Turn around!” He wanted to ignore her, but sped up. “Heeeeey!” She screamed after him, having shaken off the concussion-induced reticence. The brewing storm threatened to unload a torrent of rain any moment now. Viera B disappeared behind a tree, leaving her alone in the woods. 

Holiday held her dress shoes in one hand and walked gingerly through the wet grass. She kept her thoughts about the situation to herself (Disgusting. Wet. Stupid Shroud. Hate it. Someone should install lamps or something).  Elementals had a reputation that waffled between “story for children” and “real being who will smite you for no reason.” Anyone stuck in the woods at night would err toward appeasing the latter. Gridania had nightmare fuel to spare: In addition to Elementals, you had to worry about less mythical but equally volatile enemies like swarms of bees, angry trees, and Ixal. On the more mythical side, you had Odin, as well as the various hunt marks who patrolled certain areas.

The silhouette of a large man materialized ahead of Holiday. She had finally caught up to Viera A or B. “Which way is the city?” She shouted at the figure, assuming he was headed to either Gridania or back to the Lavender Beds ferry dock. The man neither responded nor moved at all. She trotted forward, repeating herself: “Which way?”

The sky unloaded its cargo. Rain fell in heavy, angry drops. A streak of purple lighting forked down from the clouds, striking the top of a tree. BOOM. Another bolt lit up the forest, and Holiday could see the man before her clearly: He was taller than both Viera and ten times as hairy. The fuzzy man-shaped being wore a full suit of brown fur, covering him from neck to oversized toes, which were attached to oversized feet. He didn’t speak, but his big brown eyes bored deep into her soul. The two stood in the darkness and rain, both equally confused by the unexpected meeting. 

Slowly, and carefully, Holiday raised one hand to signal harmlessness, while the other dug into a dress pocket. She pulled out a couple pieces of wrapped candy and offered them. “Food. For you.” 

He took the candy and darted off into the night, never to be seen again.

[abookishidentity]

Books read in April 2024

-A Quantum Love Story by Mike Chen started March 29, 2024 and finished April 2, 2024 - 4/5 stars. This is a time loop story with love in it. Time loops are always so angsty and devastating. I like how the main character initiated the love story. Its very interesting how the only way to stop the loop from repeating again is to go back in time to fix mistakes. Its devastating that the main character doesn’t end up with the man she likes but she makes it so her past self can end up with him. Did not see that coming 

-Light Years from Home by Mike Chen started April 2, 2024 and finished April 5, 2024 - 5/5 stars. Oh man what an amazing book. Imagine having such an estranged relationship with your family that when you and your dad are abducted with aliens you are like “Yeah, I’ll fight this alien war but I’ll send my dad back though” I don’t know what I would do if my twin was abducted by aliens and then returned years later. Such good family drama in this book. Lots of “Why didn't you come back?” and “It’s your fault that dad died!” 

-The Afterlives by Thomas Peirce started April 5, 2024 and finished April 8, 2024- 4/5 stars. Man dies and comes back and sort of has a crisis about not seeing anything. Interesting characters and plot. This was going to be 3 stars but the part with the main character going through the machine was interesting. Main character was a tad annoying but I have read worse. 

-The Echo Wife by Sarah Gailey started April 9, 2024 and finished April 10, 2024 - 4/5 stars. What do you do when you find out your husband essentially made a clone of you and marries her? I’m so glad the clone murdered the abusive husband. It sounded like the main character and her husband were toxic to each other. I was thrown a bit when the clone and the main character decided to make a clone out of the asshole cheating husband but whatever. Asshole husbands are buried in the garden it seems. Interesting ending. 

The Mimicking of Known Successes by Malka Older started April 11, 2024 and finished April 12, 2024- 4/5 stars. Cozy murder mystery in space with lesbians. What’s not to love? The dynamic reminded me of Sherlock Holmes and Watson a bit. This was a short book so I read it pretty quickly. 

-The Imposition of Unnecessary Obstacles by Malka Older started April 12, 2024 and finished April 15, 2024- 4/5 stars. The sequel was a tad longer but it was still pretty good. I would be interested to see where this series goes. 

-The Devil You Know by Mike Carey started April 15, 2024 and finished April 19, 2024- 4/5 stars. Now this is the urban fantasy that I really fucking love. It makes me think what the hell Felix was doing before this book took place. It amuses me to no end that Felix plays the tin whistle to do stuff with ghosts. Imagine going about your business and see a man playing a flute and playing popular british songs. Anyway good book. I need to read the entire series. Felix Castor is an interesting man living in an interesting world. 

-The Veiled Masters by Tim Pratt started April 19, 2024 and finished April 22, 2024- 5/5 stars. Oh man what an excellent book. It’s the third book of a trilogy. There’s just something about mind controlling spores that I just fucking love. It actually works in this book. I also love the mind control is added with feelings of bliss and happiness when a task is completed. This trilogy was entertaining as hell and I love the diversity of characters. It’s also queer which is good. I think I ought to look into Tim Pratt books more. 

-Vicious Circle by Mike Carey started April 22, 2024 and finished April 28, 2024 -5/5 stars. Holy crap I think I like this series as much as the Sandman Slim series by Richard Kadrey. Felix is incredibly interesting. He inserts himself into certain situations though as if he’s the only one that can fix things but whatever. I’m a little confused as to why a certain dude injected him with truth serum. Didn’t even get to read if it actually worked or not. It’s very interesting to see how Felix will get out of situations and or fights. He can get hurt and has to recover like any normal person. It makes a lot of sense that at the end of the book his landlady/friend is like “Yeah you aren’t living here anymore” 

-dhalgren by samuel r. delany started April 28, 2024- I am half way through this book at the current moment. I am unsure if I’m going to finish it. The main character doesn’t seem particularly picky with things including where he’s sleeping and who he is sleeping with. I hope protection still exists. Like the main character will sleep with women and men and there isn't any mention of protection. Like fucking hell I just got to the part where he does stuff with the 15 year old boy. I'm pretty sure it's considered rape. This book was written in the 70s and I have to remind myself with that. This book doesn’t always make sense but I guess that’s fine. Perhaps I’m reading it for a change in scenery. Sometimes you got to read things that make you uncomfortable.

[yourworsttotebag]

opening sentence patterns

thank you for my life @rowanisawriter and for tagging me in this

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Haha, a lot of these are dialogue and they're basically all just dropping the reader right into something currently happening. Which makes sense cuz I kind of just want to get where I'm going.

1.) Gale shuffled slowly down the aisle of the airplane, counting the rows until he finally found his. (Wherever You Go)

2.) “Shadowheart,” Evie said softly outside her tent. “Are you still awake? If you’re not, you have to get up anyway because I’m here.” (no secrets)

3.) “I name you Peace Bringer.” (Bliss Spores)

4.) Gale was grateful to find Evie on the Elfsong Tavern’s rooftop, leaning her hip against the railing and staring at the peaks of the Upper City. (Homebuying)

5.) “Oh, hello! Welcome!” Evie posed with one hand on the door frame and the other on her hip, dressed like she was attending a cocktail party even though it was before midday. (Forever is a Long Time)

6.) “Where does it hurt?” Shadowheart asked. (Cure Wounds)

7.) Gale never saw the shadow reaching out for him from the darkness. (And Everything After)

8.) “Gale -” Evie tried to speak to him but he kept interrupting her with a kiss and she kept smiling. (Growing Pains)

9.) Tara was quite pleased with the dressing down she had prepared for when she next saw Gale. (Her Boy)

10.) “Is Karlach sure she dropped her ring here?” Evie asked, tired and bored. (Hunger)

[dragon-hoard]

thinkin about how after you bring the sovereign nere's head a bunch of myconids come over and dance for you while you get high on bliss spores

[rana-sentimental]

the cure- just like heaven (1987)

Another song i'm manifesting for s5 in any way. We know st took inspiration from The last of us in some points (El&Hopper found family story arc, the spores of tlou paralels the dust of UD, an entity/virus who preys on conquering the mind and using its victims etc)

but one many have highlighted is the Ellie and Riley moment / Mike and Will s2

"we can just be all poetic and shit, lose our minds together" and "if we go crazy, we'll go crazy together. Yeah, crazy together"

what makes the Ellie/Riley scene so beautiful is that in the hbo series, used Just like heaven music box , gave it a lot more meaning, love and innocence

Much people tend to agree the song in general gives the vibes of being close to someone so perfect, and yet it seems to lure a sense of lost , a washing away of this person, the entire song is like a dream (for Ellie and Riley story the lyrics told us their sort of tragic yet almost poetic ending that could't be). I possibly see this song being used too, specially if we got a scene with mike/will too (maybe a Vecna'd scene)

Thou in reality according to Smith, "The song is about hyperventilating–kissing and fainting to the floor." The lyrics were inspired by a trip with his then-girlfriend (and later wife ("Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick") refers to his childhood memories of mastering magic tricks".

Show me how you do it And I promise you, I promise that I'll run away with you I'll run away with you

Many songs in Mike's Bassment beats reference running away in the night with someone, staying and fight (Will's and Mike's playlist are the only ones left and the songs have been added againt on september 26 again)

Spinning on that dizzy edge Kissed her face and kissed her head Dreamed of all the different ways I had to make her glow

bliss moment people

"Why are you so far away?", she said "Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you That I'm in love with you?"

Pure hurt , mostly this resonates with Will (already Boy's don't cry have been refereced in the show , the whole van scene right there )

I opened up my eyes And found myself alone, alone Alone above a raging sea That stole the only girl I loved And drowned her deep inside of me

You Lost and lonely

And then it all fades away, reminds me of Max scene in s5 , snow ball this is her happiest memory, the night she and Lucas had their first dance and kiss, and yet vecna gets to her there.

[all54321]

In the original idea of this AU, I was going to have all of HEP discover Grian is a spy together. Until an anon on Bluie’s tumblr gave me the idea to have only Mumbo discover it. He takes the discovery as well as you’d expect :)

Another note: Most of the HEP consider those who are infected as their own beings. Aka they don’t see Scar as Scar, only seeing him as Father Spore. This holds the same for anyone else infected, that they’re lost/gone. This makes Mumbo heavily doubt that/is majorly confused about it.

—————

Mumbo stumbles over a root, trying to follow Grian through the small forest. Sure he knows Grian likes his alone time, especially after the war started, but Mumbo needs to speak to him. What is he doing out here is the better question.

He slows down when he hears voices, relieved that he caught up to his assistant. His relief almost immediately fades as he looks into the clearing, freezing.

Grian is standing in the middle of the clearing talking to Father Spore as it walks closer. Mumbo tries to shout at him to run, but he’s frozen in place, unable to move or speak as the spore creature approaches his friend.

Grian doesn’t seem to mind when it cups his face, thumb gently stroking his check. The avian hums, leaning into it looking blissed out.

It chuckles, “you know I love seeing you, songbird, but shouldn’t you be working?”

“I can take breaks,” he insists, defensive.

“I’m not saying you can’t, but you shouldn’t meet me during them, we can’t have you getting caught.”

Grian huffs, “no one will catch me, Scar, I’m careful.”

Father Spore just hums in response, not pressing the matter more. It leans down and pulls Grian into a kiss, the avian gasping in surprise. After not even a moment, he runs his hands through the other’s hair, holding it close. His ungloved hands.

Mumbo backs away, confused and fearful. Grian is… Grian is what? He doesn’t seem infested, act infested, yet here he is, kissing the most infectious being in the resistance. There is no way Grian isn’t infested, not with how close he is to S- Father Spore, not with how it knew to meet him there.

Grian is a traitor.

Mumbo swallows the bile that threatens to come up at the thought. He hurries back to town hall, afraid of getting caught. What does this mean? What does this mean?!

There definitely weren’t any traces of the infectious spores when he first met and befriended Grian. So why, why does he act the same? How can he be himself but infected? Why can’t Mumbo tell?

He sits down in his office chair once back inside, dropping his face into his hands, what is he supposed to do now?

Mumbo knows he should confront his friend (are they still friends?), he can’t do it in front of others, but he’s terrified at doing it alone.

He’s already so exhausted by this war, Grian being the only one to keep him steady, so what does this mean? For them? For everything?

[diabolocracy]

I love pissing him off. :)

Fuse

"... And who the fuck are you?"

Bunny

"It is me, love."

Clearly. It was Bunny--albeit he was half the size he used to be but no longer a drippy, void-tainted mess. Visually, at least.

"Have you already forgotten about me? How unfortunate."

Fuse

Fuse scowled. He hadn't forgotten about Bunny, but he sure as hell wished he could. "As if I'd forget about the guy responsible for all this shit. How the hell did you even get up here, anyway?" He demanded, eying the other critically. "Can you even sustain yourself up here? You're a walking glitch, I'm surprised you made it this far."

More pertinently, he wondered, what the fuck did the glitchy, half-sized Bunny want with him?

Bunny

Bunny gave his head a tilt, looking as if he was the paragon of innocence and blissful obliviousness. "I walked," he said simply. "And I feel perfectly fine, thank you for asking, love. I do believe downsizing allowed what data I have accumulated to compensate for what was missing - hence..." He gestured, indicating vaguely how he was now the shorter one in comparison to Fuse.

Fuse

Fuse snorted. "Somehow that's unsurprising. How'd you manage to get up here, anyways? The Underground's a biohazard, last I heard, with all that fungus."

He had a bad feeling that Bunny had gotten up here for some nefarious purpose. He glanced around, and then back to Bunny. "You... didn't bring those red seeds with you, did you? I'd hate to have to flatten you."

He didn't actually mean it, but he wanted Bunny to get the point.

Bunny

"I have my ways." In other words: Bunny wasn't going to divulge the means by which he got through the new, less magical, metal barrier blocking any return to the Underground.

"But I did not track a single spore up with me. Worry not, love."

Fuse

Fuse didn't entirely believe Bunny. It was Bunny, after all. "Uh huh. Why are you even here, anyways? I don't believe you've come to admit you were a total fucking tool, right?"

He didn't expect an answer, but he knew it was Bunny, and Bunny loved the sound of his own voice, so he might just get one, anyways. Fuse was braced for whatever it was Bunny had to say.

He knew it wouldn't be good, but at least he'd be prepared to hate-listen.

Bunny

"Mm...? I do not recall my being the 'total fucking tool.' It was you that pushed the button, love, that sent me to the void for quite some time... Granted I did give you that choice--but I did not expect you to take it." The cadence with which he spoke belied how unreasonable he thought Fuse had been.

"But I digress. I am here because I wish to be. I did miss you."

Fuse

Fuse snorted and turned away. "Like hell you did, Bunny. You always wanted to toy with me. You never actually gave a shit about me."

He knew he was probably being a bit harsh, but Bunny had been the source of so much misery in his life, and he was still sore about how it had all ended. "What the hell do you want from me anyways?" He demanded, looking back at Bunny. "Come to sweep me off my feet with your charm? You know I'm not that guy. I don't fall for your bullshit."

He had lost any regard for Bunny's feelings a long time ago. He'd been too busy thinking of his own, quite frankly.

Bunny

"That is not true," Bunny stated outright, a little huffy. "I proposed to you. One does not propose to another without reason."

Of course, his method of proposition including killing every other monster in the Underground at the time... But everything had been Reset. No one had really died. Technically.

"I missed you," he repeated. "That is all."

Fuse

Fuse snorted again. "That wasn't love. That was a twisted experiment. You were trying to see if you could mold me into the perfect monster." He crossed his arms. "But I got out from under your thumb. You're not my fucking boss anymore. I'm not some specimen to be toyed with."

He didn't need Bunny in his life. He'd moved on, and Bunny was certainly part of the past. Fuse had no desire to go back and revisit it.

"So you can go ahead and fuck right off. I'm busy, and I've got a life now. I'm not going to stand around being tortured by your bullshit any longer."

He turned on his heel and started walking away, ready to be rid of Bunny once and for all.

Bunny

"You have a horrendously skewed view of things," Bunny muttered, disregarding all that Fuse had said--including the skeleton's attempt to leave the conversation. In other words, Bunny began to follow after him.

"But it is true that I am not your boss anymore, I suppose. Ergo, we can start anew upon more equal footing, mm?"

Fuse

Fuse rolled his eyes and sped up, trying to put distance between himself and Bunny. He didn't want to be cornered, not with Bunny. "That's a bit of a stretch, you know. I spent over a year being toyed with, manipulated, and had my emotions tossed around like a ragdoll. No fucking way we can be on equal footing. We're not even in the same fucking league anymore, Bunny."

He didn't want to talk to Bunny. He didn't want to be reminded of the past. He just wanted to live his life in peace.

"At this point, I'm really not sure why you're here. I'm not going to fall for any games, so you can just go ahead and get lost," he advised, rounding a corner, hoping to shake the other.

Bunny

Bunny was quick to continue to follow, of course. He was unshakeable.

"Mm, yes, I suppose you are right. We are not in the same league anymore--we never were, truly. This time around I would put our leagues as having been reversed.My league was once well above you, but now you find yourself in that position, do you not? And you would turn down being in that position over me, love?"

Fuse

Fuse stopped and turned, a sneer curling his lips and purple magic beginning to glow in the depths of his sockets. "You think that's it? You think I'm going to be swayed by something that pathetic? You think I care in the slightest about being 'above' you?"

He scoffed and shook his head. "You might not be my boss anymore, Bunny, but that doesn't mean a damned thing. I'm not below you, and I'm not above you. I'm just not you. I'm not going to be manipulated by you again. I'm not going to fall for your bullshit," he repeated, having no qualms about repeating himself.

He took a step towards Bunny, looming over him. "I'm not going to care about where you are or where you're not in some arbitrary league, because I'm done with you. I don't want to see your face, and I don't want to see you slither back into my life. Now, get the fuck out of my sight before I lose my patience."

He was ready to do something to make Bunny leave. Fuse had no desire to be reminded of the bullshit they'd pulled on each other in the past.

Bunny

Bunny stopped, in turn, silent and demure-of-sorts as he listened to Fuse's rant. He was silent for nearly a minute afterwards, but all he had to say about it was a simple, "I am going nowhere."

Fuse

Fuse's eyes glowed brighter at Bunny's insolence. "The hell you aren't," he growled, lunging forward to grab Bunny by the scruff of his neck, lifting him off the ground and turning him around to face a nearby dumpster. "You're not wanted here," he snarled, slamming Bunny's body against the dumpster, making it rattle.

He pressed his body flush against Bunny's, arms braced on either side of the broken monster. "Get. The fuck. Out. Of. My. Life," he ground out, baring his teeth.

Fuse was done with the charade. He was done with Bunny's bullshit. He just wanted the other to leave, so he could live in peace.

Bunny

Being manhandled by Fuse wasn't anything new to Bunny. The familiarity of it was actually quite welcome, actually. The scientist didn't react much when he was pressed between the skeleton and the dumpster except to chuckle quietly.

"I dare say I cannot go anywhere with you pressed up against me as you are, even if I wanted to. Which I do not."

Fuse

Fuse's grip tightened a little around Bunny's neck, responding to the laugh with a sharp, "Don't fucking laugh, Bunny." His voice was low and menacing.

He wanted to hurt Bunny for that laugh, a small part of him said. That it was a welcome sort of familiarity infuriated him. Fuse had moved on. He'd tried to leave that shit in the past.

"Let's see how much you like this when I've got you strung up as a trophy in my apartment. You want this? Want to be my plaything again?" he demanded as he squeezed just a bit harder, enough to make breathing a little difficult. Fuse's grip was a vice, and he was going to keep it there until Bunny either passed out or gave in and left Fuse the fuck alone.

Bunny

That tightened grip made the scientist's chuckling cease. Bunny shivered, just a little, remembering all the times he'd goaded Fuse into actually killing him that Fuse himself couldn't remember courtesy of the Resets.

It was rather arousing, at least to him. But he'd never been playing with a full deck. As such he didn't much mind it when that grip only tightened a bit further when he was questioned.

His answer? A breathless, "Yes."

Fuse

Fuse growled again, loosening his grip just enough for Bunny to breathe, but not enough to be safe. "Goddamn, Bunny, you're still as much of a fucking tease as you were before," he muttered, frustration and arousal making it difficult for him to decide how to proceed. He wanted to hurt Bunny for being so... Bunny. He wanted to crush him, to inflict as much pain as he'd been subjected to. And...

And he wanted Bunny right there, against the dumpster. He wanted to see the other's eyes glass over as he violated Bunny's body, forcing his cock into Bunny's tight ass, taking him in a way the other couldn't forget. Fuse wanted to know that Bunny was still his, still his plaything.

"Get on your knees, Bunny," he ordered, releasing the scientist to give him room to comply. "I'm going to fuck your face now."

Fuse was going to take what he wanted. He was done with waiting. He was done with the bullshit. He wanted to make Bunny pay for being so... Bunny.

Bunny

Bunny was at first a smidge disappointed when Fuse let him go and backed off--at least until he heard the reason for why he'd backed off. The scientist couldn't help another little laugh, a shade triumphant. He'd gotten his way, after all, did he not?

He said nothing as he complied, sinking to his knees, looking up at the other monster--a tad expectantly.

Fuse

Fuse couldn't help but snort at the look on Bunny's face. "You think you've got me, huh?" he asked, shaking his head and adjusting himself through his pants. "Fucking dream on," he muttered, unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock.

Without further ado, he grabbed Bunny's head, positioning his cock at Bunny's lips. "Open up," he ordered, feeling a little bit of satisfaction seeing the scientist so willing. He nudged Bunny's head back, forcing his cock into Bunny's mouth.

He began to thrust, fucking Bunny's face roughly, not caring if he hurt Bunny. Fuse wanted to dominate the other. He wanted to take control, to make Bunny submit.

He grunted as he fucked Bunny's mouth, making sure to use the other's head to hold his cock in place as he made Bunny's throat tremble around him. He was going to make Bunny remember who was in control.

Bunny

Bunny didn't get much time to reply with words. When he opened his mouth to say something, he found it stuffed full of cock not all too unexpectedly. He gagged, of course, throat constricting around the intrusion it tried fruitlessly to eject, his body tensing from the sensation, eyes already watering. He didn't try to pull away, though--not that he could with the grip Fuse had on his head.

He did his best to go along with the forced motion, swallowing the best he could around both his gag reflex and Fuse's cock.

Fuse

Fuse growled, thrusting harder and faster into Bunny's throat. He wanted the other to choke, to really feel the sensation of his cock lodged down the scientist's throat. He was enjoying the grip Bunny's throat had on his cock, the way it clenched and relaxed in a futile attempt to eject him.

Fuse held onto Bunny's head, forcing the scientist to take him deeper, to get used to his cock once again. He wanted Bunny to remember how it felt to be used by him. He wanted Bunny to surrender to it, to beg for more, to forget any resistance that he might have left.

Fuse grunted and growled, thrusting into Bunny's mouth as he moved to undo the buttons of his pants, allowing his hips to sway a little, fucking Bunny as roughly as he could.

It wasn't long before his hips jerked forward, holding Bunny's head still as he came, filling the scientist's mouth with his cum.

Fuse pulled out of Bunny's mouth, panting, and zipping up his pants. "Stay the fuck away from me," he ordered, standing up, "or the next time you're mine I won't just be fucking your face. I'll be fucking your ass, and I'll make you beg for mercy."

Bunny

Oh, Bunny choked, all right. His gagging became all the more harsh-sounding and Bunny couldn't keep his hands from reflexively moving to settle on Fuse's thighs, but he did refrain from trying to push the skeleton away, only going as far as to grip the fabric of the other monster's pants.

It was unpleasant, but familiar, and like the fucked up masochist he was, he wanted more.

When Fuse came down his throat, Bunny tried to swallow as much as he could, but still coughed a lot of it up when Fuse pulled out and moved away. Bunny, on his knees and now also his hands while he caught his breath, just laughed again.

"That is not the sort of threat to make if you wish for me to stay away, love."

Fuse

Fuse scowled, "I don't give a fuck what you want, Bunny," he growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're a fucking tease. You never change. And I'm tired of being used. I'm tired of this shit."

His grip tightened, and he took a step forward, finger jabbing Bunny's chest. "I'm fucking done, okay? I'm not going to let you screw with me or anyone else ever again. The next time I see you anywhere near me, I'm going to hurt you. Understand?"

He turned and walked off, leaving Bunny to contemplate his words. Fuse was done. He didn't want anything more to do with Bunny. He just wanted him gone.