#i cannot wait for a really misty day so i can go down to the loop and walk around and feel like i'm in a science fiction novel!

[vedurnan]

constantly getting stoned at other people's houses and then walking home at night in total awe at the fact i live in a CITY

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 44

Happy New Year ... and what a strangely subdued table ... ah, I see ... what the hell is THIS msd shite? The camera perspective is WEIRD and Ashley is giving me motion sickness ... Travis: "Why do you keep calling this a drift?" Sam: "Because it sounds cooler!"

Laura: "How did you get changed so fast?" Indeed ...

MERCH!!! Apparently ... XD

Matt: "I wanna feel a pocket too." Laura: "Well you can't! You should have done it before the shoe."

TLOVM is SO CLOSE!!! Yes it is! Squee!

So what's happening in the cellar? Solve the cliffhanger! Solve the cliffhanger!

Laudna:"FCG, SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!" FCG: "I like to do the sound effects for people."

Chetney wants to turn this into an orgy to make them uncomfortable ... FCG: "I could use my tongue!" The rest (ESPECIALLY Matt): "NO!!!"

Working out the mechanics of blocking the door ... Liam: "Well I think that's the SECOND step of the orgy."

Yes. 11 is better than 10. By ONE, in fact.

Matt leading them to how to jam the door with the rod through the handle ... why do I sense a trap?

Meanwhile Chetney is STILL preparing for sexy times. This episode is getting horny already ...

Frog? Huh?

Laudna's going to use Shapechange on Pate and turn him into a spider ... that is CREEPY ...

Half-elf ... handlebar moustache? That's impressive, I thought D&D elves couldn't grow facial hair.

Living whirlwind weirdness ... WTF is THAT shit?

Uh-oh ... they're busted ... that's not good ...

The spider's physical strength? For real? Negative 2? OH REALLY?!!! Pate! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Laudna's clearly getting a mental eyeball swirl ... Matt: "Make a Constitution saving throw." Laura: "Don't throw up on me." She does ... oh boy ...

FCG: "EVERYONE wants to talk. It can help your insides AND your outsides."

And they're determined to get fucking! Fearne's stripping off already ... here we go ... XD

Roll for initiative!

Sam: "Maybe this is a super horny air elemental."

The idea of FCG underlighting Fearne's underboob is sending me ... XD

ROLLIES!!!

Travis (as Chetney): "Taliesin we miss you!"

Liam: "Plan fucking? You want to fuck in initiative order?"

Orym: "Invite only!" Like a badass!

Travis: "Our son will see this one day!" Laura: "Don't say that!"

All the dirty talk is getting a bit much ad the group are still pretending the orgy I'd still happening while Liam us congratulating Matt on creating all that "DEEP LORE" in the last episode. Now NOBODY can keep a straight face ...

This whole combat is completely imploding because the innuendos have taken over and everybody's just pissing themselves ...

The Gil dice DID NOT fuck Marisha but it's too late to contest it now ...

Werewolf Chetney pornstar dialogue routine ... oh boy ...

I just cannot take this seriously any more, I swear ...

Travis (werewolf Chetney voice): "I'm a big bright shining star!"

Naked Fearne is doing an interpretive fire dance ... and holding her action ... Matt: "Make a deception check." Sam: "Danception!" Ashley rolls a 15.

The thing is CONFUSED. Ashley: "Then my work is done." Oh boy ...

FCG: "No touch no touch no touch!" The group descends into giggles.

I'm sorry, is Orym now BLUFFING?

Werewolf Chetney: "Can you just wait until the scene is done? I get performance anxiety."

Orym uses his vine attack from the sword to yznk the half-elf down the stairs ... yeah, here we go, then. Whoa, Ofym is stabbing him in the side of his gut while he's down and trying NOT to be lethal? Really?

Another one ... ooh, this one sounds more dangerous ... oh, Chetney AND Orym both take hits! Meanwhile she is weirded out by the scene in general ... of course she is!

No! Not a crossbow! Not good! Argh!

Matt's getting hits but keeps rolling so shitty on the damage! XD

So they ARE committed to fighting in a basement? Oh wait, here we go ... Imogen trying to bluff them out of this now ... this deception check is SO vital ... FUCK!!! Crap roll!

Yeah, that really didn't work ...

Imogen Misty Steps into the kitchen ... and Matt's goy ANOTHER combat map prepared!

Laudna: "My scene partner!"

Naked Laudna form of Dread! And Spiderclimb! That is WILD!!! And clearly MOST unsettling ... Mirror Images TOO?!!! Yeesh!

Matt: "This got really weird really fast!" Marisha: "Yes! It did!"

A naked werewolf leaping right at you WOULD be scary, wouldn't it?

Sam: "Whoo! THAT'S a blowjob!" Oof ...

Yay! Mage Armour for the win!

Half-elf: "What is even happening here?" Laura: "Indeed!" Werewolf Chetney: "Physical expression!"

Fearne: "We're done, we're done, we're done with the bit?" FCG: "That's a cut!"

She turns into a Clydesdale! Oh boy ... Laura: "How are you gonna get out?"

AND now she's wedged in what's left of the door ... oh boy ... this is just a MESS again ...

Sam: "I can change that!" Matt: "Players make the creative choices they choose!" Sam: "I don't want to subject our viewers to that image!"

Travis: "Vigorous masturbation! Just furious!"

Gods, it's all pure filth again ... I just can't ...

Liam, determined to bring the serious tone back in order to get them out if this mess now ... yes, Action Surge! Noyce! And halfling luck to reroll 1s is so sweet ... 24! Excellent! Acrobatic Orym for the win!

The bad guys are still so confused! XD

Athletics Check for a horse kick ... NO!!! Damn it, that would have been SO cool ...

Silvery Barbs! Ooof ... but it doesn't work, bugger ...

Matt: "Enemies can multiclass too!"

FCG: "Me? But I'm just the sweet cinematographer!"

Psychic Lance at BOTH OF THEM?!!! Oof ... SEVEN D6 of Psychic damage? Ow ...

Laudna's casting Bane! Cue Tom Hardy in the Bane mask muttering noises from half the group. XD Travis (as Bane): "Gravity has BETRAYED you!"

Turmoil! Nice! Fire sickle! Double nice! And the rogue is incapacitated ... oh this is gonna be NASTY ...

Marisha doing a weird Laudna nude shimmy action is hilarious ... XD

Wow, the Elementalist really doesn't have a clue what he's doing here, does he? FCG: "You're doing great!"

The situation in the kitchen is so much worse ...

Yes! The horse kick works this time! Nice! And they fall on FCG. Oof ...

Horse Fearne BURSTS through the door into the kitchen ... oh boy ... pure fucking chaos in here now ...

Chetney is NOT getting out of the way, he us STANDING HIS GROUND!!! Oh boy ... he is CONTESTING the horse! Ashley: "WHY?!!!" Chetney, WTF are you doing?

Horse Fearne is now going APESHIT.

The guy hasn't been touched. Sam: "Banishment!" Travis SCREAMS in gleeful astonishment and he's not the only one impressed by Sam's audacious BALLS.

Travis, describing what FCG sees when they come up: "Tits everywhere." XD He gets the jitters. Marisha: "Oh really?" FCG: "I'm going jnto the red, guys!"

Orym tries to dart under Fearne's legs but it's just TOO crazy for him ... or not? Oh, so Matt has to CHECK THE RULES now! Holy fuck, Liam sctually GETS THE PASS because the rules are on Orym's side! AND he gets a sweet attack on the rogue on the other side! HE GETS THE HDYWTDT!!! And then he just keeps on going into the front room!

It's the mage's turn ... he decides to just FLEE!!! Of course he does! XD but he has a parking gift with the orb! Lightning attack! Eep!

Ouch ... okay, Laudna is FUCKED UP, and Horse Fearne is destroyed, leaving only a naked Fearne stood in the middle of the kitchen!

Mage full clutzes CLEAN through the window and he's FUCKED UP but STILL manages to maintain concentration on the elemental?

Does Inflict Wound even work on a Wind creature? 6 D10 of Necrotic damage? Holy fuck Imogen you can be TERRIFYING sometimes.

Wait, Pate was still trapped inside the vortex? XD Anyway, he got YEETED ...

Laudna sends him BACK INTO the elemental and casts Shocking Grasp through him into it! Boss move! 10 Lightning damage! Fuck!

It is now SCARED of her and I am NOT surprised ...

Chetney jumps through the window and MAULS the mage in the alley while he's down ... oof ... that is NASTY. And he KILLS HIM!!! Of course he does ... AND he just chucks the corpse back through the window !

Oh fuck ... now the elemental is UNFETTERED!!! That may have just backfired on them ... yup, it's just flailing like crazy ...

Fuck! Imogen's now unconscious? Fuck ... oh! No! Phew ... whsy a fucking SAVE!!! Laudna saved her with Silvery Barbs!

FCG casts Spare the Dying on the mage. And they zre now in A murder scene in a residential area. Matt: "And that's where we're gonna take a break!"

Stay, run or hide? Who's good with religion? What? There's no time,this guy's coming back already! Ashton has the Hole! (Because it's funny.) They grab the mage and BOLT right out into the street.

Guy's back in the kitchen but they're already gone ... phew ...

Pate really enjoyed that, apparently. XD

Somehow Ashley rolling 26 saves the group's collective Stealth. XD SO far away from the old days ...

Ashley's just being Fearne being a horse again. XD Imogen is being a horse girl going along with it. It's really quire adorable.

Looking for parks, then. Or not? Now looking for DOCKS. A warehouse? Now I'm confused ...

Oh, right, for an interrogation. Yeah, makes sense. Yeah, maybe FCG isn't the best choice for this. Yeah, Imogen is better for this.

Uh-oh, he's waking up ... and now they've brained the poor bastard. FCG casts Spare the Dying again. Matt: "Just to be safe."

Matt: "Are you looking for anything in particular with this warehouse?" Laura: "Something shadowy and abandoned-y."

FCG: "We really don't wanna give him brain damage."

Lock picking! Okay, here we go, Chet, roll nice ... 25 on stealth ... AND 25 for the lock picking itself! Bloody hell, Travis!

Guy tries to bolt and Matt rolls SCARY well, everybody scrambles to stop him! Miniature initiative! It's chaos! Oh nice one Imogen! Perfect, that's it. Game over.

Wow, this guy is weirdly smug all of a sudden.

Imogen: "Oh yeah, well it's a porn-gardening business." FCG: "Trimmed Hole Productions."

Wow, dude is LOADED!!! Nice.

Laudna Banes him snd FCG casts Fast Friends. Chetney: "Suppose that's better than me pulling out his fingernails."

FCG: "We are sexual deviants, it's true." Chetney: "That's our LLC Name."

Laudna: "Do gods not like sex?" Imogen: "I think some if them do."

Fearne: "How do you make a fresh start?" By siding with Predathos and killing the gods, sounds like.

Oh fuck, they totally hot him to admit that they're working with Thull! Nice one, Imogen!

Who is this HIM?

Oh, so this is an enemy of Ira's ... an older elf gentleman? Intriguing ... seriously, who IS this guy they're working for?

Wait ... is he some Unseelie dude running that operation from the Feywild?

Creepy ruins! That's intriguing too!

Bracers of Defence ... so they're DEFINITELY gonna kill him, then? Ooof ...

Yeah, clearly these guys are seriously FUCKED in the head. They're just gonna doom the whole world if they get their way.

Orym: "What did Zephrah have to do with any of this?" Liam rolls HIGH for an insight check znd GETS A WHISPER! Sam: "From hardcore porn to hardcore lore!"

Yeah, no, this is NOT a conversation that they're actually having in front of this guy. I kind of got that already.

24 on a persuasion check ... Nice!

Imogen just TOTALLY gets to this guy through his hubris. AND bullying. Da'leth? Here we go. You total moron. XD

"You have terrible taste in friends, you know that?" FCG: "You just have to get to know them. Biblically."

Sam's flask this week is an FCG self portrait with ACTUAL TONGUE!!! Urgh ... XD

What to do with him, then? Oh, yeah ... the Grim Verity would be a good choice, they might have questions for him, message Ryn.

The mind-numbing task of working out where the hell they even are. Tricky ...

She literally just goes right over and KNOCKS ON THE DOOR!!! Ryn, you awesome lady ...

Oh, she knows who Da'leth is ... oh boy ...

Yes, destroy the keys ... The Malleus Keys? Oooooh ...

Ah, so the one in the Feywild is potentially in trouble ... well you're gonna be going there anyway, so ...

Yeah, this guy is just a complete MORON. XD

Cheesesteak. Yes. Sounds GORGEOUS. And Ryn continues to be amazing.

Laudna, you got A BUNCH of friends now!

Laura (exasperated): "Why am I rolling so many ones today?"

Only midafternoon? It feels SO LATE ...

STAT!!!

Ashton's response ... Matt: "Is where we'll pick up again next week!"

Travis: "You know who I blame for this? I blame the Mighty Nein for not finishing the Cerberus Assembly when they had the chance!"

We're really just going through a memory lane of all the crazy shit they went through in the first 2 campaigns now, huh? And Sam gets a sneaky little 4-Sided Dive plug in too ...

[sidewaysfromsunday]

36 days: The Discovery of IT

Every person has only one original thought in their lifetime, but what happens if you actually can tap into your true originality? What if instead of waiting to be awoken at 3:00 AM, what if I seek it out. What if I find it myself. What if I buck the concept of time and live in my own comfortable schedule. The conflict is fighting against the FAKE CONSTRAINTS OF TIME because time, and nothing, is real. What if by experiencing true grief we are actually able to finally pursue and reach a state of nirvana - which is how life was meant to be lived. What if we were awake for it all? Maybe it's not the hospital because nothing is actually out of control. I'm okay. It's all going to be okay. When the knot in my heart/back finally is gone, that will be moment one. I'm actually having FUN. The most fun I've ever had. Who is 3, 6, 9? Feeling like I can communicate in my internal original language.

Psychosis isn't present here because this is true. There is nothing off about any of this. I have even figured out the sleep thing too. Sleep is very annoying to me right now because I'm not able to get anything accomplished while I'm sleeping. So I am not taking my trazadone on the nights where I feel good and am just letting my body explore its natural rhythm because sleep isn't missed! I literally just listen to my body and sleep when I'm tired! Then I figured it out too - if I can notice when I'm in need of a good night's sleep then I DO take a trazadone and sleep. And I did that last night and I woke up feeling recharged. Speaking from a place of safety to another allows them to be their truest self. Why cant I offer safety to everyone? What if I do? What if Juliette was premature because even at the development stage she had a feeling that she doesn't trust me, that's she's anxious around me. That I make her anxious and that is the worst realization in the whole world for me. From this point forward, I'm going to do everything I can to be the safest most trustworthy person she knows.

I am med compliant except the trazadone. I have a fire in my throat. I am saying all the right words to all the right people at the very right time. My eyes cannot focus. It's okay. I feel magnetic, I've been feeling like I'm about to reach nirvana. How are S and 3 related? What if our opposite is the perfect human? It's okay. Do the math and don't forget this:

S is the 19th letter E = 5, X = 24 19+5+24= 48 4+8+12 1+2=3

S and 3: Safety, Sharing, Sex

(There is more to be said, but this song is important)

How do I get out of this? I'm too real it's scary. Am I doing this on purpose? Why am I getting in trouble or med-adjusted for experiencing myself in its truest form? Nothing about this is dangerous. I'm following the list, checking in with psych. I don't want to die. I'm anti-suicidal. Why do I feel like something is wrong? Why does he feel like something is wrong. Why does she feel like something is wrong. I don't want anyone to tell on me. But I have nothing to be told on for. Every time I work I snap back. Maybe that feeling in my back is a block in the flow of my spinal fluid. If I can break up that flow, it's okay. Why are people scared of me or scared for me? Why should I tame this down? I'm about to get in trouble but I didn't do anything wrong. Don't put me to sleep. Why do I teeter on the tip of the triangle or is the tip the land of all of nothing thinking?

I am a cataclysmic event.

Virtues: 1. Patience 2. Truth 3. Sexual Energy as the most intimate way to communicate

Ridiculously, lushly, manic, chaotic energy physic - I see the universe everywhere. Who am I losing? Is this really so out of character for me? Did we have shapes or numbers first? WHO established the NORM? Who recognized shapes and numbers? Which came first? Everyone I look at these past couple of days seems stunning in their own beautiful unique way.

Moon

Sun

Sky

Math kind of freaks me out but I'm so damn interested. I'm confused by it. I want to write a naughty fantasy. It would never come true, not in a million years. I literally don't even want to drink. Everything is fucking hilarious. I feel like I'm saying all the right things. No one is trying to shut me down or put me to sleep. When I sleep - I can't handle how vivid it is. How to let people see me? I feel like it can't come fast enough and it's ethereal. How to communicate in 3. Orgasm with dangerous = power, synergy - 1+2=3 -- Sequential.

I think this is what it feels like when humanity begins to die. We are in the process of being taken over - hostages. I am dying. War / Conflict - the long tease. She and he and they know me. It's okay for people to know me. I feel like out of all the Euphoria characters I most closely relate to Cal. We could all be getting infected with MRSA, or at least I know I am. All this banging scares me. I feel like I'm being cleansed. Cerebral spinal fluid reshuffling. Maybe I died in the car accident 10/26/21, Sept 6, 2021. Deestablishing patriarchy - why godfathers? Why not godmothers? It's a terrifying time to be a woman so it makes sense I would seek the help of a woman. Femininity is being threatened as we speak. We need to get ready to run. AI is anti-christ. What if religion has nothing to do with it?

Just because you don't know how to handle me doesn't mean you need to push me away. People are scared of me. I make punctuation fit MY structure. 3-13-2013 = 14 | 2014 3-13-23 = 12

This is cool and weird. I'm tapping into love. I'm creating in a way I've never been able to create before. This is new and exciting and feels like I'm breathing out love. I feel swollen.

I'm entertaining myself with curiosity. These days the bones in my back are loosening up. I cracked my back and it was the most gratifying it has been in years. Therapy is great for me because it forces me to talk aloud. I have to communicate in a structured way - no memes or songs. It's good for me. Sometimes I forget what is a thought and what I've vocalized.

Rhythm

Harmony

Melody

(Movie Idea: 2 women that fell in love, ripped apart by pandemic and addiction. When they reunite one helps the other remember what she has forgotten)

3/16/23 - 5 months no alcohol 4/16/23 - 6 months no alcohol 4/24/23 - I turn 37 4/26/23 - G is 38 5/5/23 - Juju is 9 3+7+3+8+9 = 30 3+0=3

This is going to be the best year of my life and I'm not scared at all. I'm noticing all the details. I'm seeing it all. I'm talking in another language and everything I say is right. I feel like I want a real cigarette. Sometimes lately it feels like I'm about to piss and climax at the same time like I'm losing primal control.

Taste is so much deeper than our tongue really. I am having a unique human experience or is everyone as restless and on edge as me? Exploring astrology with someone new or deeply with someone is like taking their virginity. You and I speak like lovers about thaumaturgy. I feel like Peter Pan in Hook. I'm finally making memories again. I was afraid to be too enthusiastic about you, so I hid you as if you were an imaginary friend.

I'M FUCKING FLYING TODAY. Maybe she can ground me. I feel wild. I feel like I am sex. It feels like I have a boner, or phantom boner. I wonder if you have the power to make me climax without breaking a single rule? I'm anxious when I'm cold. Productive but at what cost? What if there is no cost? When I feel crazy and someone tells me I'm not, it fucks with me because it feels like they know the truth of it all. I'm bouncing a bit. Hard time tracking. Lisa said - we both know it can't last forever. "I wish I could say it would, I would love that for you." I love that for me too then why can't I have it? What are we so worried about? I keep listening to some of the same songs - but each time I'm hearing it for the first time.

"I feel like I'm onto something big... ...You always say that when you're manic."

In some ways I feel like you were hiding from me before I even knew you. You remain elusive and I wonder if we are going to play forever or if someday you'll let me find you? It's no wonder I've been feeling like this for days. Like I am filled with an insatiable desire. This whole time I've tried to quench the desire by imagining unspeakable things. But I think more seductive than anything else, the thing that's going to make me explode is if you simply whispered yes and held my hand. You're right to be scared, and I am too. It's going to change everything. Don't you see the greatest thing about that? It will be our life. I feel like water is pulling me to the ocean, a place where I'm terrified and out of my element. It's seductive and dark and anything could happen. Have you ever had sex on a spiritual level? Usually I'm so unfocused. Usually I've got too many thoughts. In my gut I know and as crazy as it makes me look, I'm rebelling against it all right now because though it's similar - my gut tells me its different. It's time. Finally I'm so focused and there is nothing grandiose about that at all. It's that gnawing feeling that I'm onto the next big thing. I'm not questioning being bipolar and I'm not even combating the fact that this resembles mania. BUT NOT EVERYTHING IN MANIA IS WRONG. I don't lose the right of knowing the truth. I can still know / identify true things since this started. The tension has literally been leaving my body. I feel lighter than I have in years. Wouldn't you, if you could, buy a ticket to the best movie you were ever going to see? A movie so personal it hits you from every angle - a movie you thought so spectacular you'd only see it in your dreams. THIS is the movie and we could have the best seats in the house. It is wrong that with all these thoughts I'm the happiest I've ever been? I keep dreaming about experiencing another magical connection in my lifetime but I think it's already here. I always doubt myself but now I'm questioning what happens if I don't doubt me. This is the shape of ME in the world. Opposites feel so powerful because to understand what opposite means requires us to recognize that for it to exist implies that by itself, an opposite is incomplete. Without its inverse, it lacks balance, incomplete. Therein lies the power - through unity, opposites not only become whole but synergistic as well. Pluto symbolizes rebirth. What do we need to admit to ourselves to live a more authentic and freer existence?

[skvaderarts]

Elden V Chapter 2: Journey into the Mistwood

Chapter 2: Journey to the Mistwood

Note: I find myself pleasantly surprised by how positive the reception has been for this silly little project! Hehe! Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t think people would hate it, but I’m amazed at how much you all like it! Thanks for checking it out!

(-~-)

Day 8

For once, it wasn’t raining when I woke up. A pleasant surprise, I must admit. 

It occurs to me that I didn't mention something rather crucial before. Those little golden Sights of Grace, the little golden guiding lights? Well, when I rest at them I recover from my injuries instantly. Apparently, these little rest points are more than just a pretty light to bask in. I have the feeling that they will be even more crucial than I’d originally guessed, especially when they refill those little flasks that I’ve been carrying around.

Alas, my body was still a bit sore, but I resolved to not overstay my hospitality with Yura and headed off in the direction that I can only assume the item I seek is located. Kale was kind enough to furnish me with some information about where a flask that might be helpful to me was located. For a small donation, of course. But his price was more than reasonable, so I was happy to oblige. 

I find a currency called runes every time I defeat someone in combat and sometimes by simply exploring and scavenging. I must admit that I do not have many of them at this point in time, but I seek to amend this soon, especially since I have recently discovered that with enough of them I can enhance certain attributes with Melina’s help. Apparently, she needs them as part of her process. To satisfy what end, I cannot say, but the price goes up each time, so I will have to be mindful of this going forward.

Regardless, the structure I seek is an abandoned church just a little ways from the side of the lake where I was attacked by that Bloody Finger. I shall have to be cautious. I cannot shake the feeling that danger lurks on that side of the region. That isn’t to say that this entire area isn’t filled with peril, but something about the misty woods that I’ve seen from a distance down in the valley where I presume the church that I’ve been told of is located give me pause. I shall stay as far from the treeline as I possibly can.

Day 9

I write this having just arrived at the safety of the place called the Third Church of Marika. And I have just discovered that touching a Sight of Grace repels enemies that are pursuing you. How did I discover this? Well, it’s quite simple, really. Because I was chased through the front door by a Giant! I dived for cover only to discover that this creature was apparently repelled by the power of this light. I do not know if this is effective over a certain radius, but I suspect that I shall find out sooner rather than later.

At least the item was as described. A flask that magic stones could be added to in order to make potions with custom effects. It will no doubt serve me going forward. I shall rest for a short while and then survey the area. Perhaps I can locate some of these stones down the line. Apparently, they are called Crystal Tears. And speaking of tears, I found an item in this church called a Sacred Tear. It’s supposed to make my flasks more potent, which will be tremendously useful. I’ve been told that they are located in churches, so I shall be visiting any that I see in these lands. I will need all the help I can get.

(-~-)

During my flight, I heard someone atop a structure that had fallen over the road calling for assistance and waited for nightfall to go and see if they were still there. Surprisingly enough, they were. A nobleman named Kenneth Haight who is apparently next in line to become ruler of this region greeted me with apprehension initially out of recognition of the fact that I am still one of these so-called Tarnished, but the quickly brushed that aside. It seems he desperately needs help… recapturing a fort. A task that I am unsure I am prepared for but shall attempt nonetheless. He has agreed to reward me, after all. And he was also willing to furnish me with a bit of information about the lord of the castle upon the hill, the place where Varre wants me to go. I shall look into this location after I venture to Fort Haight and scope out the place.

But, to my utter dread, I have discovered that I must travel through what I now know is called The Mistwood. And despite my initial attempt to pass through the area, the haunting sound of an inhuman creature made it clear that perhaps I should seek further information on this matter. So, out of an abundance of caution, I returned to Kale to see if he happened to know anything about this. Surprisingly enough, he did. But instead of warning me away from the woods, he instructed me to snap my fingers near the sound. He said no harm would befall me, and he has no reason to mislead me, but I am apprehensive. I suppose there is only one way to find out. I shall return to the Mistwood and try this out for myself.

Day 10

I’ve had the singular pleasure of meeting a young woman named Roderika in an area called Stormhill just beyond the gate that I stormed. The guards were… less than capable of stopping me on horseback, so I resolved to charge through and duck the barrage of crossbow fire that they sent my way. I charged up the hill on Torrent under the cover of darkness and was immediately ambushed by, and I know this sounds insane but I sware it’s the truth, a pack of WOLVES that FELL FROM THE SKY. I haven’t the foggiest idea how that is even remotely possible, but it happened nonetheless.

I also found a glowing golden seed on the ground growing out of a strange golden tree sapling. One can only assume that it does something, but I shall have to experiment with it and find out. Still though, it seems far too mystical and shiny to not do something of note. I’ll ask around.

The young lady was kind but her spirits were clearly broken. It seems that the detachment of men that she came to this land with were all killed and she was the only survivor. Her survivor's guilt is immense and I can only feel sympathy towards her for it. She is the second person to warn me of Lord Godrick of Castle Stormveil, the lord of the castle upon the hill. Apparently, he hunts Tarnished for sport so that he can use them for “grafting”, a process that in of itself inspires enough implied dread through name alone for me to not ask any further details as to its purpose or the specifics of the process. I’m sure I shall find out soon enough.

She gifted me a Jellyfish spirit to protect me and then asked that if I head to the castle that I give her dead men her best wishes. She is apparently by her own admission trying to work up the courage to get dismembered and join them. I hope she remains as cowardly as she proclaims herself to be. I believe her to be quite brave, but hopefully not brave enough to get herself killed.

Day 11

During my siege of the camp where I retrieved the map, I found an item called a whetblade in a chest in the basement of the camp. Now I know what it’s used for. Adding different attributes to weapons. I learned from a man named Bernal just a little ways from the dilapidated shack where I met Lady Roderika that these so-called Ashes of War can be attuned to more or less any weapon I find to give them special properties, damage types, and additional specialty attacks. I only have a cursory understanding of how this fascinating system works, but I can already tell that this will be an invaluable tool. Perhaps there are others out there akin to this one with different properties?

Regardless, after speaking with him last night a decided to get some much-needed rest before heading back to this Mistwood this morning. And there I encountered perhaps the most horrifying creature that I’ve met thus far in this land. A Runebear.

I… can’t quite describe how massive this creature is. Or the kind of fear that the very sight of it instills in me. I know that I cannot defeat this creature. I do not need to test this hypothesis. It is a fact. If the way that it was shredding a centuries-old oak tree into splinters just to sharpen its massive claws is anything to go by, and it most certainly is, then I shall simply grab the map fragment near it, creep quietly through the underbrush, and towards the mournful howls of whatever Kale has instructed me to go and meet. This is not how I plan to die.

(-~-)

Today has been fascinating, and for once, in a good way.

Upon arriving at some ruins in the middle of the Mistwood, I snapped my fingers near what I thought might be the remains of a tower and a man (at least I think him to be one) jumped several stories down and landed in front of me. I am not accustomed to feeling short, but he made at least two of me in height, and probably in overall mass, but his armor made that difficult to confirm.

His name is Blidd, pronounced “blyve”, and so far, he has been nothing but kind to me. And although significant, that is actually secondary to the fact that he’s a talking wolf. And not just any wolf, either. He has the head of a wolf but he stands upright like a human, although as previously mentioned, he’s quite a bit taller than an average human. And he carries a greatsword bigger and probably heavier than I am upon his back. He wears a cloak made of some kind of gray and white fur, and his armor is substantial, the kind I wish I could wear but I probably wouldn’t be able to even put on due to its weight, let alone walk in. 

I can only aspire to be that intimidating.

But despite his imposing demeanor, I can’t help but feel safe in his presence. His voice is calm and reassuring and he is earnest to a fault. I know I can trust him. He contracted me to help him defeat a creature called a Bloodhound Knight, this one named Darriwil, and we went into battle together, managing to defeat him with little issue, in large part due to Blidd’s incredible strength. He pummeled that creature into a fine paste. I was more of a spectator than anything else. That beautiful giant sword wasn’t just for looks. And if my speculation was correct then I believe it may possess some sort of magical properties. I didn’t think to ask him.

I was rewarded for my time with a considerable amount of runes, a magic stone that can apparently be used to upgrade certain weapons, and the large curved sword that Darriwil had used in combat against us. I’m unable to wield it as of yet, but I am excited to possibly attempt to at some point.

Blidd informed me that should I head to the far north and encounter a large blacksmith that I should inform him that we know one another and he will offer me assistance. I know little of the land he speaks of, but I am curious to explore the place where he presumably originates from. His clothing did looks like it might have come from a different climate, though I cannot be sure. Still, we parted on good terms and I shall return to the Mistwood shortly. I have much to do there.

(-~-)

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Much like the game, the start can be slow, so sorry if the pacing is a little slow. I’m just recording my run. The next section will be really fun, however! Just wait and see! Also, check out my note on Petrichor if you're seeing this between now and the 23rd of December, 2022. I have an important announcement! Hope to see you in the comments! Take care and happy holidays, if your into that sort of thing! If not, that’s fine too! I’m with you haha! Take care out there!

[frogtanii]

“hi everyone,” you gave your webcam a half hearted wave, noting the flood of inquisitive comments at your demeanor.

ynismymommy: omg queen r u ok??????

emilia.95: Have you been sleeping?

atsumus-leftballsack: bestie imma need you to invest in some concealer

a giggle pried it’s way up your throat, despite your attempts to stop it as you read the comments. yes, you were fully aware that you looked like shit however, you just weren’t expecting the viewers of your stream to be so... observant.

“holy shit guys, i’m okay,” you attempted to placate your vicious audience by giving them a (forced) smile and a small chuckle. “let’s just play, okay?”

you loaded up your game of choice (call of duty — you had a lot of aggression to work off) while making idle chatter with your fanbase. they seemed to have dropped conversation about your heavy eye bags and low enthusiasm in favor of more lighthearted topics.

just as you were starting to get into it, a knock sounded at your door. at first, you were tempted to ignore it but after a few moments of silence, the knocking started up again, more incessantly. your comments started to go wild, wondering who exactly was banging on your door at like 11p.

bokutos.bahamamommamilkers: tell whoever is @ the door to fuck off

shartyba3_420: damn slam me yn like [redacted] is slamming on that door

Greg_72: Hey, you can go answer that! We’ll wait <3

you apologize quickly before removing your headphones and scurrying over to the door. swinging it wide open, you’re met with bokuto.

and what a sight he is.

once bright, golden eyes were now dull and void, accompanied by dark circles that rivaled your own while his usually sunny visage was dampened by this metaphorical dark cloud that was hanging above him.

in other words, he looked like shit.

the both of you must look like quite a pair — you in your ratty, oversized hoodie and red sweats and him in his white t shirt and flannel pajama pants. after giving him another glance over, you repressed the urge to pull him into your room and into a hug, instead choosing to wrap your arms around yourself tightly.

“um, hey bo,” you started, unable to keep your eyes on his face. “i’m really sorry but i’m streaming right now. maybe we can hang out later?”

bokuto shook his head no, and your heart began to sink. you were just so tired and you didn’t have the energy to entertain or comfort the man at the moment without letting another piece of yourself crumble but you knew you didn’t have the heart to turn him away.

resigning yourself to your fate, you stepped to the side to let him into your room, making a mental note to shield him from your webcam while you brought him to lie on your bed.

to your complete and utter surprise, bokuto did not move, shaking his head no again before moving to grab something just out of your sight behind your doorway.

you were now thoroughly intrigued, shuffling closer to peek into the hallway, only to be stopped by a box being thrusted into your hands. you looked over the colorfully painted cardboard but it gave you no indication as to what was on the inside and glancing at kotarou gave you no help whatsoever.

“what’s this?” you voiced your confusion while weighing the box in your hands, the confusion only amplifying when you discover the box is suspiciously light. you’re shaken from your investigation when bokuto throws another object in your hands, this one significantly heavier.

looking up at him, you’re taken aback by the emotion swirling in his irises, his mouth finally parting to speak. “i’m so sorry,” kotarou’s voice, while gravelly from disuse, was sincere, a slight quiver being found underlying his words. “i- i know i never said it but i just want you to know that i-i care about you and that i am so sorry for ever hurting you and making you feel like you were less than. y-you’ve helped me become myself again a-and i can never thank you enough.”

a shuddering breath left his chest as he trained his eyes on the ceiling before looking back at you with watery eyes. “you don’t have to forgive me. i-i’d understand.” you opened your mouth to respond, to rebut, but you were cut off by his strong arms, wrapping you up in a tight hug.

you couldn’t keep yourself from melting into his hold, a small ounce of stress leaving your body at his words but the bulk of it remaining. he’s just apologizing because you’re the only girl who’s shown him an ounce of kindness, the voice in the back of your head whispered.

as bokuto pulled you in tighter, you stiffened, the voice getting louder and more constant. the man holding you didn’t miss the way you tensed and hesitantly removed himself from you, his hurt written plain all over his face.

kotarou gave you a weak smile and another gentle apology before turning and leaving for his room. you already felt guilt creeping up your spine for not holding him the way you thought you should but you quickly pushed the feeling down, knowing that you wouldn’t have gotten the rest you deserved if you’d done so.

letting out a deep sigh, you shut your door and moved back to continue your stream, not before gently setting down the 2 colorfully decorated boxes on the bed, a small smile creeping across your face at the sight of the gifts.

your stream ended pretty shortly after, your mind unable to focus on the game — it was getting borderline embarrassing how often you were dying to the point you were worried your sponsors would pull out of supporting you.

with a soft smile and goodbye, you collapsed on your bed, mindful not to crush the boxes. while you were extremely exhausted, you knew you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep without examining your gifts’ contents.

you decided to open the heavier box first which yielded bag after bag of your favorite chips, candies, and drinks. you knew your mouth was gaping unattractively but you couldn’t help it. this was... way too much.

at the bottom of the box was a small note, written in bokuto’s somehow endearing chicken scratch. it read, “hi yn!!!! this is for when you get hungry :) i know i didn’t let you eat any of my snacks for a long time so i thought it would be nice if i bought some for you!!!!! i hope i got these all right :( i asked atsumu for help!!!”

a choked chuckle escaped your lips and it only amplified as you continued to the end of the note. “p.s. don’t worry about not finishing it all!!! i can always help you ;) p.p.s. also you’re so pretty!!!! don’t not eat it because you don’t think so too <3”

wiping your eyes that had become suspiciously misty, you set down the slip of paper and reached for the second box.

you couldn’t keep the gasp from coming from you as the cardboard overflowed with tiny slips of paper. with shaky hands, you unfolded the first paper, the tears overflowing over your lashline before you could stop them.

you are loved :) - akaashi

“fuck,” you whispered, swiping at your face before clumsily reaching for another, and then another, each note making you cry harder than the last.

you are beautiful!!!!! never change!! - bokuto!!!

you’re really cool - kenma

you are so kind and i owe you the world - sugawara :)

you’re sympathetic, observant, and intelligent. - sakusa.

you are patient (even when we don’t deserve it) - kuroo

yer my angel <3 - tsum tsum

there were a ton more but you promised yourself you’d read them all later, your emotions getting the better of you. you’d rather not wake up with puffy, swollen eyes and a headache so you decided it would be best to close the box and finish it all later.

laying back on your bed, you expelled a deep breath of air, not realizing just how tense you were. you’d been living on edge with the guys for at least a month now and it was really starting to wear on you.

without being able to fully trust them, you knew it wouldn’t be long until you crumbled under the pressure.

you glanced at your phone before sighing again (it really was that kind of day, wasn’t it). maybe it was about time to give dr yamada a long awaited call.

℗ poker face

you are loved :)

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - ooweee first single apology down, 4 more to go!!! also the box of papers came from everyone (obv) but they still gotta give their individual apologies hehe which shall come in the future <33 sorry this took so long KSJD i hope u enjoy!!! don’t forget to feed me <333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @sazunari • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @amberalisa • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[uselessundertalefacts]

Frisk Month '22 Day 21 - Free Day!

Frisk and Chara do something important. Their friends give them some encouraging words.

Frisk settles into the machine. It feels like a dentist chair, and makes them feel about five times as scared. Toriel and Alphys are watching them closely, so they do their best to stay calm.

They think about the past few months of tests in Alphys's lab, tense meetings with Toriel, and endless waiting for the news that they wouldn't be able to go through with this after all. Of all the times they imagined what this moment would be like.

They didn't prepare enough for this, they think. But they're ready. They're always ready.

In their mind, they reach out to Chara. "This is it," they think.

*It is. * See you on the other side.

Mom comes up to Frisk and squeezes their shoulder. “Good luck, my children,” she says. Frisk isn’t supposed to move their body around while they're in the machine, so they just smile at her. They hope she can't tell how nervous they're feeling.

“I know you did not want everyone to be in the room for this, but…” She pulls out her phone. “They have a message for you two, if you would like to hear it.”

“Is that okay?” Frisk asks Chara in their head.

* …Yes. “We wanna hear it,” Frisk says aloud. The video starts with a series of clunking sounds as someone drops the camera. Papyrus scoops it up and aims the camera at his face. “HUMANS!!!” He shouts, the speakers distorting. “ON THIS FATEFUL DAY!!! WE WOULD LIKE TO SAY!!!” He aims the camera at his couch, where Sans, Undyne, Mettaton, Maddie, and Asgore are sitting. The monsters shout in unison, “Good luck, Frisk and Chara!” Undyne’s voice drowns everyone out. She adds, “WE LOVE YOU GUYS! YOU GOT THIS!!! Papyrus, gimme the phone!” “UNDYNE, NO OFFENSE, BUT I FEAR FOR THE PHONE’S SAFETY IN YOUR HANDS!” “Okay, FINE!!!” Undyne jumps off the couch and approaches the camera. “You two are some of the coolest, strongest people I’ve ever met, and I KNOW you can do this!!! Feel the power of our hearts beating with you!!!” She grabs the phone out of Papyrus’s hands and tosses it to Sans, who fails to catch it. After a moment, he picks it up. “hey guys, we’re all thinking of you right now. take chara yourselves, ok? been saving that one for a while.” He winks. “My turn!!!” Maddie shrieks. The phone flies out of Sans’s hands and focuses on Maddie’s face, which is emitting low levels of smoke. “You! YOU!! YOU!!!!” She grins fiercely. “Can you feel that? I’m sending Kissy Cutie psychic beams to your location RIGHT NOW!!! Accept their POWER!!! Your favorite doll loves you two! Now here’s your least favorite robot.” Mettaton takes the phone and manages to keep smiling despite Maddie’s insults. “Darlings!! Beauties!!! You’re going on an important journey today, and we are all SO excited to see you on the other side of it.” He winks. “Also, Blooky’s here, and they say good luck as well, but unfortunately, this camera can’t pick up ghosts.” Asgore takes the phone. He holds it so close to his face that only his nose is visible. “Howdy, my children,” he says. “When you are done in the lab, I would love to make you both a cup of tea. I am so excited to see you. Stay determined, okay?” He’s probably smiling, even if the camera isn’t showing his mouth. Finally, the phone is in Papyrus’s hands again. “HUMANS!! WE ARE ALL THINKING OF YOU, AND WILL SUPPORT YOU THROUGH ANYTHING!!! I AM SUPPORTING YOU BOTH, RIGHT NOW, WITH MY MUSCULAR ARMS!! METAPHORICALLY!!! PLEASE IMAGINE IT!” He flexes for emphasis. “NOW GO!!!” The video turns off. “God, they’re really sentimental, huh…” says Alphys. Frisk is grateful to her for not mentioning the tears streaming down their face. “Uh, I don’t have a speech or anything, but, I love you guys too, okay? You're both really important to me, and, uh. H-hopefully the machine works okay.” She looks over to Mom, who’s looking a little misty-eyed as well. “I suppose I should say something as well,” she says. “You two… I cannot overstate how important you are to me. Chara, you were one of my first children, and ever since we first met, you have brought so much joy into my life. Having you back…” She smiles weakly. “Words cannot do it justice. Frisk… I do not know where any of us would be, without you. You are such a wonderful, silly, compassionate, strong child. You choosing to stay with me here on the surface… every day, I am so grateful that you allow me to be a part of your life, and for the rest of time, I will always be here for you. Both of you.” She gets close to Frisk again and dries their face with a handkerchief, which they’re really grateful for because they’re pretty much coated in snot and tears now. They try to nuzzle into Mom’s hand, telling her silently how much she means to them.

* After this, both of us should hug her. * Together. "Okay, are you two ready?” Frisk says “yes”. Then, Chara says “yes” with Frisk's mouth. They’re both ready.

“Okay, well, um. J-just as a reminder, both of you try to feel, uh, REALLY determined while the machine’s on, okay? And try to stay still if you can.”

Frisk remembers how they felt when they fought Asriel. They’re immediately filled with power. They can feel Chara doing the same. Save points start manifesting around the lab, unnoticed by the others. Probably because their determination is being amplified by the machine.

“Alright… it should be quick, j-just a few seconds…” Alphys pulls a lever as Toriel moves away from the machine. “Th-three, two…”

There’s a flash of light, and Frisk splits ap a r t

…

cold,

quiet,

cracking No

they

REFUSE.

They stay.

They stay determined.

…

…

They open their eyes.

Alphys and Toriel are watching them, and… someone else. A child in a green-and-yellow striped sweater is lying on the ground in front of them.

“Urgh…” Chara raises their head and squints at Frisk. “Oh… hi, Frisk.”

------

(Author's note: like 80% of the inspiration for this (besides hearing arrow talk about everyone's favorite kiddos) is the premise of "Let's Do the Mortal Coil Shuffle" by Taliax on Ao3 and a scene from "Risen Up" by paradoxpangolin on Ao3. Go read those!)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Begone, Bitch

Prompts: Hi ! I just wanted to say that i love your stories and the way you write the characters ! If you want, could you write about Virgil being comforted by the other sides, or him getting hurt while protecting the others ? - anon

I am beyond grateful for every fic you write, you are so good at pushing all the right emotional buttons to just make my entire day. I don't want to be greedy since you already make so much good content, but in 'Lie to Me' there was that little one off scene in the kitchen where Virgil pushes Janus behind him to 'protect ' him from Roman and I *cannot* stop thinking about it. I would die for a whole fic of Virgil protecting Janus(and the others, but mostly Janus, I like when people are sweet to the snake boy) from danger by physically shielding him with his body. Overprotective Virgil is my favorite. So this is a prompt/request but only if you really really want to <3 And thank you for writing such wonderful fic. - awitchbravestheverge

Ah yes more opportunities to write in Virgil's narration style.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none, not really. Some creepy shadow shit from the Subconcious and Virgil gets a little hurt but nothing graphic

Pairings: platonic found family babey

Word Count: 4504

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

For the most part, Virgil’s able to work undetected. Or, well, no, the others will see him doing shit but they don’t know that’s what he’s doing. He just has to stand between them and whatever gross slimy black thing has crawled its way up from the depths of the Subconscious and it’ll get absorbed. Part of Thomas’s background anxiety until he can banish back to the hellhole from whence it came.

That doesn’t always mean it’s…painless.

Some of them are fine. Some of them are like little misty bits that just putter around where they’re not fucking supposed to be and Virgil can just pluck them out of the air and stuff them into the pockets of his hoodie and wait. These ones really like to bother Patton, for some reason.

Patton’s baking today, cinnamon sugar muffins. He’s humming to himself as he bustles about the kitchen with that weird boundless energy of his that makes everyone want to think about nothing but sunshine. Ruins the hell out of Virgil’s gloomy emo image but hey, fresh muffins. Sacrifices must be made somewhere.

“Did you want to help, Virgil, or are you fine with just sitting there?”

Virgil blinks, having zoned out after the third time watching one of the containers almost fall over. “Nah, I’m good.”

Patton shrugs. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t, Pat, I’m good. You’re doing great.”

“Aw, thanks!”

Virgil opens his mouth to say something else when he sees a little grey thing twisting in the air next to Patton’s head. He suppresses a sigh and reaches out, careful to make sure Patton’s back is turned as he snags the pesky little thing and whips it away. He stuffs his hand in his pocket as soon as Patton turns around.

“What was that?”

“What was what,” Virgil asks, blinking innocently as he squeezes the icy thing in his pocket, “what’re you talking about?”

Ah, it’s the hands-on-the-hips dad pose today. “I saw you reach for something, mister, now what did you do?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The misty little shit shrivels and disappears, leaving an ice-cold sting on his hand out of sight. “It’s fine.”

“Show me your hands.”

“What?”

“Show me your hands, Virgil.”

Virgil sighs and pulls the unstung hand out of his pocket. “See,” he says, waving it for good measure, “nothing to see here.”

Patton just raises an eyebrow. “And what about the other one?”

“C’mon, Pat—“ he sighs when both of Patton’s eyebrows go up— “fine, here.”

Patton’s eyes widen when he sees the mark on Virgil’s palm. He rushes forward instantly, cradling the injured hand and reaching for a towel. Conveniently, he gets one that was quite near where the misty thing had been floating.

“You could’ve told me you were hurt,” he says softly, tending to the sting with such tenderness that Virgil almost believes it’s something to worry about, “I would’ve helped.”

“But it’s fine, Pat,” Virgil sighs, “I could’ve dealt with it.”

“I know, I know.” Patton gives the hand one last dab with the towel before pronouncing it good enough. “But it’s never a crime to let us help you, kiddo.”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth tugs up. “Thanks, Pat.”

“Oh, of course, kiddo. Now you sit tight, the muffins won’t be another ten minutes.”

“Can’t wait.”

2.

Sometimes the Subconscious decides it’s bored of letting just the little misty bastards out and lets out the fucking ooze.

Have you ever seen Venom? Know how the symbioses move and how weird it is to look at?

Yeah, it kinda looks like that, just without the gay domesticity and mutual pining.

Nah, this ooze is mindless, just wants to—well, it doesn’t want anything, it just gets fucking everywhere. Makes it real hard to think sometimes, messes everything up.

Really likes fucking with Logan. Which first off, is not allowed. Don’t fuck with Logan. Don’t fuck with any of them, Virgil can and will kick your ass, but especially don’t fuck with Logan. Remus will tear you apart and no one will stop him. Except for Logan. Maybe. ‘Cause he’s nice like that.

Anyway, Virgil gets a weird tingle between his shoulders when there’s an oozy bitch up and about. He’s sitting on the couch, minding his own damn business, but then there’s that itch between his shoulders and he perks his head up.

Logan sits in a chair, alternating between scrolling on his laptop and making notes in one of his many notebooks. Virgil frowns, looking around, seeing if there’s any goo to keep track of, only to come up with nothing. Huh.

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

Logan tilts his head, concerned. “Are you alright? You look worried.”

He shakes his head, still squinting around the room. “Weird feeling, that’s it.”

“Will you let me know if it gets unbearable?” Virgil nods. “Thank you. Well, I’m going to get some more coffee, would you like any?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, L, that’d be great.”

Logan nods and stands, going to the kitchen. Leaving his laptop unattended on the coffee table.

Virgil watches as a truly massive ooze slides out from between the couch cushions and toward the laptop.

Not today you slimy bastard.

Unfortunately, he’s just a second too slow as a tendril from the ooze touches the laptop and yanks, pulling the laptop off the coffee table and sending it hurtling toward the floor. Virgil bites back a curse and lunges. His hand grabs the ooze just as his arm catches the laptop.

“Get back here, you little shit,” he grunts, opening his hand and using his power to suck the frothing fucker into his arm where it can go the fuck back to the Subconscious.

“Virgil, you—“

Shit.

Virgil looks up, a little guilty, as Logan comes back around the corner holding two coffee mugs. He looks down and raises an eyebrow.

“You…saved my laptop?”

“It was falling,” Virgil mutters, setting the precious cargo back on the coffee table, “didn’t want it to.”

“Ah. Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Logan sets one of the coffee mugs down and reaches out a hand to help him up. “Though I assure you it is not the first time that laptop has been dropped.”

“What do you do with your stuff, Lo, I swear you make more cryptic remarks about it than J.”

“It’s all part of the experiment.”

“See, there you go again!”

3.

And then, then sometimes the Subconscious decides oh, it wants to get inventive and spawn this horrific little ooze-demons. Goat head, four legs, runs about like a creepy little horror game creature, they’re fucking awful. They don’t all look the same but they’re always running and climbing about like some gross as hellcat gremlins. Their nails are so sharp.

These fuckers really like messing with Janus. He’s got too many fun things to pull on, too many heavy clothes for them to pull and make him trip, and they like scurrying up his staff too much. They’re absolute fucking nightmares.

The good news is they’re by far the most obvious of the obnoxious little shits that manage to slip through the barriers of the Subconscious. Virgil hears a weird skittering in his ears and knows that one of the little monsters is loose again. Given how they all flock to Janus like he’s some fucking homing beacon, it’s easy to find them.

Janus is pacing back and forth, yanking angrily at the end of his clothes like they’re about to snag on something, his staff clutched in his hand. His head is down, muttering to himself as Virgil walks up.

“J?”

His head whips around. “Oh. Virgil. Certainly expected to see you here.”

“That’s me, always turning up where I’m not wanted.”

“I didn’t say that,” Janus mumbles, resuming his pacing, “though I didn’t mean to summon you. You can go.”

“You didn’t summon me, J,” Virgil says, leaning against the wall and looking around for wherever the bastards are, “I’m here of my own free will.”

“Free will,” Janus scoffs, turning around, “what the hell even is that?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil spots movement.

“It’s not like there’s some master document of humans where free will is written into it.”

Slowly, Virgil raises his hand toward the spot, not tearing his eyes off it.

“And the belief that animals don’t have it! Ha, some of them exhibit characteristics of choice much more than we do.”

The little fucker snaps at his fingers as he makes a grab for it. He snags it by the scruff of the beck and yanks.

“And what is this about it being provable? Show me one scientific theory that has space in it for free will. Do it, I dare you.”

Virgil bites back a curse as he wrests the pesky shit around the middle, ignoring the way it chomps and snarls at him.

“Just because you have or don’t have free will doesn’t make you exempt from the constraints of society. Even if you aren’t making your own choices that doesn’t mean you’re the exception to the consequences.”

The teeth that sink into the sleeve of his hoodie are the last to vanish as Virgil breathes out, watching the last of it fade as Janus turns around.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, tugging his hat and gloves, “haven’t been…”

“S’okay, J,” Virgil waves with the hoodie sleeve that isn’t ripped, “you’re good. Come on, let’s go eat something.”

“…pasta?”

“Sure thing, danger noodle.”

“Ugh, I take it back.”

“Whatever you say, hazard macaroni.”

“I’m taller than you!”

4.

It makes sense that the Subconscious decides to send the most insidious shit after the twins. They’re the reason the pieces of shit monsters can’t make it up to the rest of them. And for the most part, they know what to look for. They don’t have the same awareness of all the little idiosyncrasies that Virgil does, but they beat back a fair number of them on their own.

Which is why the ones they can’t are tricky.

Remus is Dark Creativity, he lives in the muck with the monsters. Thrives in it. Loves the way the gross and the unwanted and the sickening twist and turn about his realm, thrills in the horrified swoop in his stomach when something truly gruesome rears its ugly fuckin’ head.

What he can’t deal with is the fog.

The first time Virgil saw it, he honestly thought it was smoke. He thought Remus had set something on fire and panicked, reaching through to try and find the blaze, find Remus, find a goddamn fire extinguisher, but it was cold.

Like…really cold.

You know how when the air is really humid it feels like it has a weight to it? Like it hangs over you like a wet rag that you just can’t shake off?

Imagine that but cold.

Virgil shivers and reaches forward, trying to find Remus. He’s still never gotten used to it, even though he’s seen it so many times now. Remus doesn’t make it out of his room when the fog comes. He blames it on creative block but Janus always hisses gently when he says that.

“Remus? Remus,” Virgil calls using his tempest tongue, “where are you, buddy?”

He can’t see Remus yet, but the call did its work. The fog ripples in front of him, almost shying away from the sound waves as he moves. He keeps calling, keeps watching the fog almost flinch as it recedes from him. His voice grows louder, louder. The fog begins to retreat in earnest.

Finally, he sees Remus, curled up on his bed, staring at the wall. Virgil muffles a curse as he strides forward, crooning as softly as he can in tempest tongue while glaring furiously at the fog as it sheepishly retreats. As the last of it fizzles, Remus’s head comes to flop on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Hey, spider-ling,” he mumbles, “when’d you show up?”

“A few minutes ago.” Virgil brushes Remus’s hair off his forehead. “You looked upset, bud, wanted to come check on you.”

“Fucking fine,” comes the slur, signifying that Remus is anything but, “I’m fucking fine, babe.”

“You’re exhausted and cold.” Virgil scoops him up into his arms. “Come on. Let’s go find J. He’ll spoil you.”

Sure enough, as soon as Janus sees Remus lying in Virgil’s arms, he jumps up with a coo and takes the other side from him, lying him down on something warm and promising to get him something warm to drink. No, Remus, not engine fuel. Something safer, at least for right now.

Virgil stands at the door, waiting.

There’s an itch between his shoulders and another chill down his spine.

A cloud of fog emerges from down the hallway. From it, three shadow gremlins canter toward him.

He grits his teeth and braces.

The first one collides with his shoulder and he grabs it, squeezing until the shadow folds in on itself. The second hits his shin and he punts it into a wall, scooping the remnants and absorbing them. The third one vanishes in a quick shout of tempest tongue.

You’re not gonna get them, he thinks as he shouts the fog away, not on my goddamn watch.

5.

The worst part of the Subconscious is the shadows.

Because they all have shadows. They all do. That’s just the nature of being an opaque thing and existing in proximity near light sources. Shadows are a natural by-product of blocking light, that’s it.

Wow, he’s been spending more time with Logan than he thought. Sweet.

But the Subconscious shadows are different. There’s no such thing as dark. Only an absence of light. There is no substance known as ‘dark,’ sure there’s dark energy or dark matter if you go the physics route, but there isn’t a thing ‘dark’ the way there’s a thing ‘light.’

If you looked at the Subconscious shadows, you’d believe otherwise.

They look normal. They look just like normal shadows. Something resting against the wall casts a shadow. Something moving in front of a window casts a shadow. Something sitting on the edge of the desk casts a shadow.

But these shadows move.

You have to pay such close attention to even catch them. You have to know precisely what on your desk is casting what part of the shadow when—hold on, what is that? Is it the water bottle? No, you pick up the water bottle and the cylinder two spaces across move. So you pick up the lamp and no, that’s not it either. You move your hand—your hand’s shadow is easy to track—and you move it to where it should be overlapping with whatever’s casting that shadow. You look closer. But there’s nothing blocking the light where your hand is, nothing between the light and the wall.

You stare at the shadow.

And then it moves.

See? They’re fucking terrifying. Like some Peter Pan gone wrong shit. Creepy, sinister, innocuous-looking, you’ve got to be constantly on guard to catch them. You have to be smart. These ones, out of all the Subconscious monsters, feel the most spiteful. Like they’re doing this on purpose, to terrorize the Mindscape.

That’s probably why they go for Roman.

Roman holds the barriers the most. Remus pushes them to reinforce them, but Roman draws the lines in the sand. Roman is responsible for keeping Thomas safe from the barriers breaking, is largely responsible for Thomas being able to see the Sides at all.

So of course the Subconscious hates him.

Roman is the only one who will summon Virgil when he thinks there’s something wrong. Sure, it’s never been quite as simple as Virgil showing up and Roman telling him he’s scared, he thinks something just moved. They used to just throw barbs at each other until Roman was distracted enough for Virgil to suck up the shadow, or fight until Virgil pointed out where it was and Roman said it was just a test, but they’re better now.

Virgil appears in Roman’s room and immediately looks around. Roman sits on the bed, his hands folded primly over the sword in his lap, polishing the pommel with forced calm.

“There are at least three,” he says, his voice perfectly even, “I can’t keep track of them anymore.”

“It’s okay, Princey,” Virgil says softly, turning and turning to try and catch them, “I’m here now. You did a good thing calling me. Are you alright?”

“I’m here,” Roman says, forcing a little false cheer into it, “not the biggest fan of what’s happening, but I’m here.”

Virgil smiles at him briefly before he sees the flicker.

There.

“Roman,” he says calmly, “I need you to go stand by the window.”

Roman gets up and walks to the window, sitting under the sill and closing his eyes. Virgil grits his teeth and makes his shadow overlap with the one on the wall.

It burns as he starts to absorb it, writhing in protest and screeching silently for the others to come help. Sweat begins to bead on Virgil’s forehead as two move shadows race to enlarge his silhouette. Goddamn, they’re vicious tonight. What the hell would they have done to Roman if he hadn’t called?

Not on my goddamn watch.

He’s panting by the time they’re gone, but he’s alright. He’s good. They’re gone. Roman is safe. He turns and opens his arms, letting Roman come and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you,” Roman murmurs quietly, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Princey, this is my job.” He claps Roman on the shoulder. “You did good too.”

Roman huffs. “I sat in the corner. That’s not much.”

“And you did great. Now come on, Pat’s making cookies.”

“Oh, right, is it Remus’s night to help?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm…maybe we should swing by and warn Logan first.”

“Good idea.”

+1.

Nothing’s happened in a while and Virgil is getting worried.

Normally the longest they go without an incident is a month, maybe, and then it’s normally back-to-back nonsense for like a week.

But it’s been three months. And nothing. No misty tendrils, no puddles of ooze, no snapping gremlins, no fog, no shadows. Virgil’s just about on the verge of running a round-the-clock patrol of the damn place just to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.

As it turns out, he needn’t have bothered.

Stupid, stupid. Idiot.

He fucking missed it. He fucking missed it.

All the other Sides had monsters that went after them specifically. Why should Virgil get left out?

The Subconscious hadn’t been stopping, or slowing down, no. It had been biding its fucking time.

And now…

Virgil scrambles backward, trying to keep himself between the door to the Imagination and the figure in front of him. They slash at him again and he dodges just in the nick of time. He winces, claps a hand to his chest, and literally feels his heart skip a beat as his hand passes right through.

He’s being absorbed.

The figure raises a dripping, shadowy arm and brings the weapon down again. Virgil can’t stop dodging long enough to get a good look at it. He only knows that it fucking hurts and that it’s draining him. Draining him back into the Subconscious.

If he can just keep it here, if he can just hold off long enough to figure out what to do—

Another slash comes down on his arm and he yells, tempest tongue dying in his throat. That one fucking hurt.

He throws a handful of dirt up just to see if maybe it will blind them or give them a moment’s pause but no. The dirt just sinks into it like some fucking nightmare vacuum. The next strike collides.

“Virgil? Virgil?”

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“It’s draining him, move!”

“Hang on, Virgil, we’re coming!”

“Don’t you fucking dare hit him again!”

The figure turns, only to jump out of the way when Remus’s Morningstar smashes into the ground where they had been standing. Remus growls, ripping it out of the soil and swinging again. The figure parries the blow only to let out an inhuman wail as Roman’s sword slices its arm.

“Get the fuck away from him,” Remus snarls.

“Back!” Roman swings again, driving them away from Virgil. “Back, foul beast!”

“Don’t insult them by comparing the beasts to whatever the fuck this is.”

Logan rushes up before Virgil can open his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on, dropping to his knees and pressing something warm to Virgil’s chest.

“Virge? Virge, stay with me,” he calls softly, “come on, it’s alright, we’re here now.”

“How—“ Virgil gasps as his chest starts to…resolidify? “How did you—what? How?”

“Oh, Virgil,” Logan murmurs, rubbing whatever the miracle thing on his chest is in small circles, “did you really think we never noticed that you were trying to fight them by yourself?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“Shh,” he soothes, helping Virgil up into a seated position, “it’s okay. We’re not mad. Just worried. You’re hurt.”

“Fuck!”

“Just stab them, Ro.”

“I’m trying!”

Despite himself, Virgil huffs a laugh as he leans against Logan. “Are they—we should help.”

“You,” Logan says sternly, “will sit here and let me finish making sure you won’t be drained. The twins can handle themselves.”

Still, Virgil’s heart stays in his throat until he spies something else running up the hill. A shadow beast, a massive one.

“Logan, look out—”

Logan turns and—

Who the fuck gave Logan a gun?

The shadow beast has flopped over onto its side and dissipated, Logan already back to tending to Virgil’s wound but the time Virgil’s dizzy, half-drained brain figures out what just happened.

“You…you shot it.”

Logan quirks an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

“Remus!”

“Get back!”

“What the hell is it doing?”

“It’s growing, shit, Ro, we gotta fall back.”

“Guard Logan, check on Virgil, I’m right behind you!”

The twins rush up and form a guard around Logan and Virgil as the shadow figure swells. Virgil’s eyes widen as it growls, growing larger and larger and larger still until the shadows look strapped at the seams, fit to burst. It grows claws. It grows teeth. It grows more limbs than he can count.

It leers down at them and opens a gaping, black maw.

“Now!”

Roman crouches down to shield him as dirt flies up around them. Logan bends in too as something equally massive soars overhead. Virgil manages to peek between Roman and Remus to see a blur of green tackle the monster.

“Is that…is that Patton?”

“I believe it’s ‘Lily Pad-ton,’” Logan corrects wryly as the twins snicker, “but…yes.”

Judging by the roar of the monster, he’s doing something.

“Where’s Janus,” he hears Roman hiss, “he should’ve been here by now.”

“There!”

Remus points and Virgil spots a fucking enormous yellow snake unhinging its jaw. The monster howls as it starts to vanish down the snake’s gullet.

“Holy fuck.”

“I think Janny’s hungry.”

“Pissed off, more like.” Roman lays a hand protectively on Virgil’s shoulder, squeezing encouragingly as Virgil gasps at the contact. “Whatever that thing is hurt Virgil.”

Remus growls in assent.

The thing in Virgil’s chest starts to burn hotter. Logan shushes him gently as he whines in pain.

“It’s alright, Virgil, you’re almost done. We’re right here, just breathe.”

“You’re safe, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs as he starts to list side to side, “we’ve got you.”

“Nothing’s gonna fucking touch you,” he hears Remus snarl as he passes out, “promise.”

He comes to an indeterminate amount of time later, laid out on the couch, his head in Patton’s lap. He blinks.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, stroking his hair, “you feel any better?”

“Um, yeah,” he mumbles, turning a little and wincing at the pull in his chest, “what…what happened?”

“We won.” Roman pats his arm. “All safe now. You did great.”

“All I did was lie there.”

“Yeah, and you did great.” He winks.

Virgil’s gaze rolls around to catch Logan setting down a glass of water and crouching by his head.

“L?”

“You’re all better physically,” Logan says softly, “but it might take some time for you to feel like it. Just take it easy for a while.”

“And that means,” comes Remus’s voice from over the couch, “you gotta let us help defend you too.”

Virgil flushes. “But it’s not your job.”

“Are you insinuating that our job is not to take care of you?” Roman holds his hand to his chest in a mock gasp. “Because that is rude.”

Patton gives his hair a gentle tug. “We’re gonna look after you, kiddo, you deserve it.”

“I—um…” Virgil swallows heavily. “But if I dealt with it properly you wouldn’t have to.”

A soft hiss comes from the chair. Virgil looks and sees Janus sitting there, one leg crossed over the other. He smiles softly.

“You can let us help you, sweetie,” he murmurs, “rest for a little. Don’t try and take on the Subconscious by yourself.”

“…okay.” He squints. “Wait, why are you all the way over there?”

“Digesting,” Janus says, completely dignified.

Virgil snorts. “I’m just sad I missed it.”

“Oh, it was fucking epic.”

“Language, kiddo.”

“Oh, come on, you were great—“

Logan chuckles next to his head as Virgil drifts back off to sleep with a smile on his face.

…he is gonna ask who gave Logan a gun after he wakes up properly.

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[five-rivers]

Pennywort and Swallowtails

For @phantomphangphucker :)

Prompt:  Flynn, due to being Phantom’s aka the Ghost King’s family and part of the Zone’s society, receives a Prince title and is now getting crowned.

.

Flynn couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but the Ghost Zone seemed different lately.  There was something in the atmosphere, almost.  It felt… lighter, maybe?  

He didn’t like it.  

After all these years in the Ghost Zone, he’d come to regard any change from the norm with suspicion.  The tendency had saved his life multiple times.  Usually, such changes were caused by a nearby and powerful ghost.  Or, on rare and terrifying occasions, a not so nearby and obscenely powerful ghost.

For example, that Pariah Dark guy he’d heard about from some of the ghosts he traded with.  Flynn sure was glad someone else had taken care of him.  Not that Flynn was much good in a fight against any ghost more powerful than that annoying one in overalls that showed up whenever Flynn so much as thought of making anything even vaguely box-shaped.

Which wasn’t that often.  Flynn had never really nailed the whole carpentry thing. Ha.  He’d never been super great at the whole square thing either. Because he wasn’t one.  Skipped school and everything.  The whole high school experience.  Ha.  

Sometimes he really cracked himself up, but only in the most depressing of ways.  

He sighed, heavily.  Maybe he should think about spending more time in his hideaway cave, under his cottage (aka his shack, it was a shack, who was he kidding).  Stock up on supplies.  Get ready to weather a storm.  Literal or metaphorical.  

But hiding out in the cave was so boring.  There wasn’t anything to do down there. Except try to design better grass shoes and to patch his increasingly ragged clothing with limited amounts of thread. He preferred being outside greatly. Even if it was just on his little floating island, messing around in his little garden, growing potatoes and blood blossoms, digging for those crystals ghosts seemed to fear and desire in equal measure.

Flynn was peripherally aware that he was supplying the ghosts he traded with the equivalent of ghost uranium (one of the few human-world things he’d picked up was a middle school science textbook), but…

Yeah.  Guy had to eat, and the Ghost Zone didn’t exactly have cops running all over the place, or the United Nations, or… yeah.  Honestly, the Ghost Zone didn’t have much of anything, at least not in these parts.  It was pretty empty around here.  

Just like Flynn’s heart.  

Ha.  

Yeah.  That was a good one.  

Eh.  Life wasn’t so bad.  He was sort-of-kind-of friends with half a dozen undead monsters of questionable morality, had his own house, most of his teeth, and copious free time.  Plus, it had been a while since the ‘rocks from nowhere’ decided to trash his roof.  Which was bad for the sport he had invented (Chucking Rocks into the Misty Void), but good for roof integrity.  And not having a concussion.  Or losing any more teeth.  

But, back to his original topic.  

Flynn glared absently at the Zone at large. Okay, yeah, something was going on. Was it Flynn’s problem? Maybe.  Was it directly Flynn’s problem?  No.  The day was otherwise clear and ‘normal’ (the term being used loosely in the Ghost Zone), so he might as well go about his day—

The sky tore open in front of him.  

Flynn recognized that.  Before he knew what he was doing, he threw himself away from the portal. The last time he’d stepped through one of those—

The thought crossed his mind that this portal might lead back to Earth, back home, back to Mom.  But he knew from his ghostly friends how unlikely it was that the portal would put him anywhere near his home physically, not to mention temporally. It might not even lead back to Earth for that matter.  

He took cover behind a boulder, cursing his blasé dismissal of potential danger.  Who knew what could come out of a portal?  At least according to the ghosts he talked to.  Hopefully, nothing came out that he couldn’t beat into submission with his ectoranium staff.  

This was going to suck so much.  

The portal disgorged three floating eyeball ghosts in voluminous robes.

(One of the other books Flynn had gotten his hands on was a dictionary.  Which he had read.  Twice. Living on a tiny floating island was boring when it wasn’t terrifying.)

Ah, heck.  He could take one ghost.  Three? Yeah.  Not a chance.  

Maybe they’d leave?  They couldn’t know for sure he was here.  With how unpredictable portals were, and all.

“Flynn Walker,” intoned the central eyeball ghost with a great deal of gravitas.  

Flynn’s body did something between a cringe and a blanch.  

He was never trusting Globithar the Lapidarist’s tall tales ever again.  He wasn’t going to give him any more discounts for them, either.  No way to control a portal his scarred left butt cheek.  

“Flynn Walker,” repeated the eyeball ghost, now with a touch of annoyance.  

“In accordance with the laws of the Infinite Realms,” said the leftmost ghost, in a higher-pitched voice, “we call you to take up your position in the Court of the King of All Ghosts as a member of his family.”

Ah, that ectocontamination Aunt Maddie had sometimes talked about had finally caught up with him, and he was hallucinating something fierce. Either that, or these ghosts thought unbelievable jokes were good bait.  They weren’t.  Flynn would know.  He’d made many unbelievable jokes.  They’d never attracted anything but groans.  

Ha.  

“This is ridiculous,” hissed the third ghost.  “He isn’t even a real ghost.”

“He’s more ghostly than Phantom’s sister,” said the second.  

“We don’t have any choice about her, though.  Can’t we simply… not tell Phantom about this Flynn? Especially if this cousin of his is so craven as to hide at a moment like this.”

Rude, but accurate.  

“He’ll find out,” said the first eyeball, tiredly. “He always finds out.  Damn Clockwork.”

This was officially too weird for Flynn.  Why were they cursing out clocks?

“Because they’re petty and don’t have anything better to do.”

Flynn may or may not have shrieked like a little girl at the voice behind him.  The uncertainty was mostly because Flynn hadn’t seen or heard a little girl since he was in the vicinity of his cousin, Jazz, which was years ago.  At least a decade.  

But he did scream.  Loudly.  Which he really should know better than to do, living in the Ghost Zone and all.  He brought his staff up defensively, too, though, so his self-preservation skills hadn’t completely shorted out.

“Clockwork!” chorused the eyeball ghosts.  

“Yes, yes,” said the ghost who’d snuck up on Flynn, flicking imaginary dust off his robe as he smoothly, and dizzyingly, shifted between ages.  “I’m sure you’re all very shocked that I’m here, after you just finished complaining about how much I know.”  He examined his fingernails.  “Now, Mr. Walker—”

“Walker?” shrieked one of the eyeballs.  

“Yes, he is related to our illustrious sheriff. As I was saying, I am here to bring you to your cousins, who have risen quite a bit in this world.”

“What.”

“It is, indeed, rather surprising,” said Clockwork. “To those who cannot see the twists and turns of fate.  Or those who are willfully blind to those twists and turns.”  He eyed the eyeballs.  

“What,” repeated Flynn, more forcefully.  

“Clockwork,” growled the lead eyeball.  

“Allow me to explain,” said Clockwork.  “Do you recall your youngest cousin, Daniel?”

“Uh,” said Flynn.  He adjusted his grip on his staff.  “Vaguely?”

“He was crowned King of All Ghosts a few weeks ago. As a member of his family and an active participant in ghost society, you are automatically a member of the court. Assuming you wish to be, of course.”

“You- You’re saying I have family here.”

“Indeed.”

“Like, Aunt Maddie?”

Something odd passed over Clockwork’s face.  “No.  Your cousins. Daniel, specifically.”

“Wait, wait, he was a baby.  Wouldn’t he only be, like, ten or something?”

“Fifteen,” corrected Clockwork.  

“How did he die?”

“You will have to ask him that,” said Clockwork.  He raised an eyebrow.  “If you would like, you can sleep on this and I will return tomorrow.”

Flynn bit his lip.  Hard.  Okay. He wasn’t dreaming.  And- And this ghost didn’t seem to be lying. What would the point of that even be, anyway?  Flynn was nothing.  He didn’t have anything they could possibly gain by lying like this.  

“I’ll go with you,” said Flynn.  

“Excellent,” said Clockwork, clapping his hands.  “Then let us away to the castle.”

.

Well.  That was certainly a castle.  Or a palace? Flynn wasn’t sure of the difference. The ghosts hadn’t lied about that, at least.  

It was a big step up from Flynn’s house.  Which, honestly, more deserved the title of hovel. Or perhaps shack.  

Or even hole, when compared to all this.  Dear god, this place was fancy.  

Flynn hunched his shoulders, feeling out of place even as Clockwork led him deeper into the massive edifice.  

Come on, Flynn, he thought furiously at himself. Some of these people aren’t even wearing skin.  You are not underdressed.  

Clockwork brought him to a normally sized (which was, incidentally, not a given in this place, which contained both huge and tiny doors) door with understated but elegant carvings.  “Here are your rooms,” said the ghost.  “You will find a selection of clothing in your size in the wardrobe, and the bathroom is fully stocked and human safe.”

“Human safe?”

“Human safe.”

That was ominous.  

“There is a bell in the room that will summon a servant should you need one.  I will collect you for dinner in three hours.  Long enough for you to relax, I should hope.”

Or long enough for him to worry himself into pieces and chew on their curtains.  

… There would be curtains, right?  This place had to be fancy enough to rate curtains.  

He opened the door.  

Lots of curtains.  Lovely.

No, really.  It had been so, so long since he’d seen curtains.  He might be crying.  

Oh, gosh, that bed looked so nice and soft.  He wanted to—

Wait, no, he was filthy.  Filthy.  Covered in years’ worth of grime.  He hadn’t had a proper bath since he’d still been living with his mom.  

Pathetic, right?

There was a human-safe bathroom in here somewhere. Beyond the snark, he was looking forward to having a human-safe bath.  He was craving a human-safe bath.  With clean water and soap.  

Could the bathroom also have toothbrushes?  Toothpaste?  Unrestrained luxury.  

The bathroom door was in the same style as the outer door, but the handle was different, lighter.  The inside was tiled and surprisingly modern.  

There was a sink.  

He played with the sink faucet for several long minutes before remembering that he’d come in to take a bath.  

He spent several minutes playing with the bathtub faucet.  

Then he got into the bathtub and experienced a half hour of combined panic (he didn’t really know how baths worked anymore, and the sensations were weird) and nirvana (the sensations were also good).

He had to keep cycling the water.  Because he made it so, so dirty.  He sank into the water, up to his chin.  

When he got out of the water, he decided his hair was a lost cause.  Because it was always a lost cause.  Only, it was even more of a lost cause now, because it was also wet and had been stripped of its usual protective layer of oils.  

There was a variety of toothbrushes and toothpastes available.  He tested them out and discovered that he would probably need the services of a dentist. A good one.  Were there ghost dentists?  There had to be ghost dentists.  They had a lot of teeth.  A lot of teeth.  Sharp, scary, teeth.  

Ugh.  His baby cousin was a ghost.  He’d probably have teeth like a shark.  When he’d last seen him, he’d hardly even had any teeth at all.  Because.  Baby. Little, tiny, baby.  

Who Flynn barely knew.  

Why did he even want Flynn?  Or was it just some weird ghost tradition thing?  

Ghosts were weird.  Anything could be possible.  

He flopped face-first onto the bed.  His bed?  His temporary and maybe permanent bed.  If he was allowed to stay here.  

Oh, gosh.  Clockwork and the eyeballs seemed to know how to make portals.  Could they make a portal back to the human world? To Earth?  

To Flynn’s proper time?

To Mom?  

He missed Mom so much, even after all this time.  

(Dad?  Not so much. He hardly remembered the man.)

He wouldn’t know until he asked, he supposed.  But asking maybe-royalty would be scary. Talking to all these powerful ghosts was scary enough by itself.  

Ehhhh, he thought he’d gotten rid of his more cowardly side by now.  He was living in the scariest place out of the world.  

Ha.  

Yeah.  

He crawled out of the bed, dragging his nice, clean self to the wardrobe.  Oh, boy. Many clothes.  He hadn’t even seen so many clothes since the last time he’d been in department store.  Incredible.  

They were so fancy, too.  He didn’t know how to choose.  

He didn’t even know how to wear half of these things. At least half of them.  

He began to tease lengths of fabric from the wardrobe and lay them on his bed.  Some of them looked cool.  And also the kind of thing that he’d destroy just by touching it.  

Except he had already touched them, and they hadn’t been destroyed yet.  Yet.

Oh, cool, there was underwear.  Wow.  It had been a while.  

.

Okay.  The bed was incredibly nice, but somehow too nice.  Like, no nap nice.  

He wanted to take a nap.  

But no nap was occurring.  

The bed was too soft.  Ugh.  This was like the thing in that one war novel he’d read when he was probably way too young to read it.  

He groaned.  He hadn’t thought that was real.  He’d thought it was an exaggeration, or just drama.  Or something.  

He crawled off onto the floor and the wonderfully plush carpet.  

Maybe he could sleep here.  

.

He woke up to a faint knocking sound and rolled sideways under cover.  What cover? Oh.  Bed.  That was the bed.  He was in the room.  In the castle.  The ghost king’s castle.  

His baby cousin’s castle.  

He was going to cry.  This was so weird.  

Embarrassed, he rolled back out from under the bed and threw on the first clothes that came to hand.  Which.  Might not have been the best of ideas.  But, hey, he was dressed now.  

He stumbled over to the door and spent several long, embarrassing seconds sleepily remembering how to open doors with this type of handle.  Eventually, though, he managed it.

Clockwork was standing there.  One of his eyebrows went up.  “Interesting choice.”

Flynn looked down.  Orange and green went fine together.  What was he talking about?  

Forget it, he wasn’t about to develop a sense of social shame after living in a hut for a decade or so.  

“Come, now.  Your cousins are expecting you.”

Flynn briefly considered ducking out, phasing through the floor and out of the castle using a tangibility trick he’d picked up a couple of years back.  At least, that would spare him from this ‘diner’ he was rapidly approaching.  

He decided not to do that.  Running away wasn’t his style.  

(Who was he kidding?  That was definitely his style.  He would have run away so, so much if he had anywhere to run to.)

(It wasn’t like he could exactly fight ghosts on even footing.  Each and every one of them had Martian Manhunter’s powerset.)

“Don’t be afraid, Flynn,” said Clockwork, looking back over his shoulder.  

“Do you, like, read minds?”

Clockwork chuckled.  “Only the future.”  He swung the large, gilded door open.  

Inside, there was a long table, set with silvery plates.  There were a small group of children beyond it.  One of them waved at him.  Was that Danny?

Flynn took a deep breath and walked forward, back to his family.  

[jonnyparable]

Cottage Hills : The Vanishing of Basil Reed, End of Book 7

Dawn of a New Spring

It's just a few minutes to sunrise. On top of venerable Mother's Hill, the villagers gather, having made the trek up its slopes in the dark of pre dawn. After a night of revelry, comes the solemnity of greeting a new dawn. This tradition dates back to the town's founding, when after the Eternal Winter was ended, the founders came to the top of this hill to see the sun rise for the first time.

These days, it's just a fun, but meaningful tradition the villagers have. They believe greeting the first sunrise of the year with respect is a great way to properly start the year on the right footing. Saibara, the second oldest person in town, leads the villagers. It will be his duty to announce the new spring. As is tradition, the villagers wait in the cold, in respectful silence.

As they take the quiet moment to reflect on those in their lives and the past year, Saibara calls out to them.

Saibara :

"Here it is everyone! Behold, a new dawn, the first sunrise of spring, and the coming of a new year! Praise the Goddess, for the ending of another winter!"

The sun of a new year and a new spring rises majestically out from behind the mountains in the distance, and bathes the town in a golden glow. Everyone echoes out after Saibara.

"Praise the Goddess!"

Watching the sunrise together certainly makes the trek up the hill worth it. Its a sight to behold, and the villagers cannot imagine starting a new year without it. As they watch in awe, they are filled with warmth, and gratitude. Surrounded by the people most important to them, and closest to their heart, they are ready to welcome a new year. Mary watches the dawn with her father and Gray by her side for the first time in twenty years. As she looks at her father, she smiles, knowing she can finally close this chapter in her life, and look forward to a brighter future, together.

Mary:

"Is beautiful, isn't it? It's one of my favourite things about Cottage Hills."

Basil :

"It truly is. I'm grateful to be able to share it with you. It's a new day, Mary."

Mary:

"Yes, father. It certainly is!"

In the Misty Woods...

Even as the sun begins to warm up the world and thaw the winter's frost, down below in the misty woods, deep inside the forests, it is still dark and cold. The rising sun's light hasn't yet reached the deep recesses of the woods.

Kano lies, resting in a bed. He had last stumbled into the woods and gotten lost, before being found by someone. Just what had happened to him? Kano stirs. His eyes open and he gets up. His body aches, and there's a sharp pain in his back. He's hurt. Kano wonders where he is. Suddenly, Kano realises he's not alone.

Voice :

"You're awake."

Meanwhile...

Far away, out at sea, Kai watches the same sun rise on his part of the world, from the deck of a steamship. He watches with an uneasy look on his face. The only sounds are of the wind in his ears and the ocean crashing against the sides of the ship below, as it careens through the waves.

In the fall, he had received a strange letter, claiming to be from his father, saying that he wanted to meet him in Saqhaba. Kai wonders now if it is wise of him to make this journey. As he looks out at the sea, he starts to question if the letter was real. And if so, why would his father suddenly reach out to him now, and what he's like. A million questions flood his mind. Then, he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Popuri:

"Hey, there you are honey. Good morning. Penny for your thoughts?"

Kai:

"Oh, sorry dear, good morning. Were you looking for me?"

Popuri:

"Its alright. The captain said we should be reaching in a couple of days. Maybe a week or so....having second thoughts?"

Kai:

"Do you think he's really there? What if its some kind of trick? It's dangerous, Popuri. You shouldn't have come with me."

Popuri:

"Kai. When I married you, it, wasn't to abandon you. I can tell you need me here. I said I'd go anywhere with you remember?"

Kai:

"I do. I'm so nervous... I have never met my father. I had always thought he died. I wonder what awaits us in Saqhaba. What do you think he wants to tell me?"

Popuri:

"Well, whatever it is, we'll face it. Together."

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Killer Good Looks pt. 2

The Company/Reader

Goblin tunnels, scapegoats, and life-threatening adventures... Oh, and you're still supposed to kill these guys, hm.

Angst, Humor, Action

----

The fall from your little cozy cave down into the deep dark depths of the Goblin Tunnels was not a pleasant one, and you're almost certain that a concussion is in the makings with how many times you and your companions have smashed your heads against walls, each other, and rocks alike. 

You got lucky for the most part, and they've got pretty thick skulls so they'll be fine too. 

Once the twisting tunnels and dead-drops are done, you all lay at the bottom of some sort of cage, groaning and recovering from the shock of it all (you're fairly certain there's a period there where you're all unconscious). 

Damn it, you should've known better. 

You've known for ages about the goblins that reside in the Misty Mountains, but you, for some reason, thought you'd be safe enough with the horrible weather to make it in and out of the mountain range before they even knew you were there. 

The goblin king won't see you, will he? He won't recognize you, right? 

Yeah, so, there was a time there where you worked freelance, having no assignments from The Brotherhood or anything to do, and you caught wind that the goblins of the Misty Mountains came across something desirable. 

Something... shiny... and... possibly magical.

Your kleptomania went positively wild at the mere thought of finding something so pretty and sparkly in such a dreary and dismal place, so you set out for the Mountains, staked out around the entrances for a few days, and then snuck in and stole that 'thing'. 

The 'thing' ended up being a radiant, beautiful ring stolen from some poor traveler more than likely. Whether they wiped out the kingdom or stole it in silence is unknown to you, but you didn't really care.

You snuck in at night while countless goblins went out to hunt and enjoy the evening, and then you swiped the ring from the goblin kings finger while he slept when day came about, hid in the tunnels until night once more while he flipped out in search of it, and made your escape the following night. 

Only after you stole it did you find out that it was magical. 

It morphed to fit your finger as soon as you fit it on, and granted you some enhanced senses. 

The enhancements weren't vast or grand, but it was a very slight adjustment that helped to polish your already honed skills. 

You could hear a little better, see a bit further, and increased your 6th sense for detecting others. 

They probably went through numerous hardships to acquire such a useful item, and, now, it was all yours for free. 

That day you spent hiding away in the tunnels, waiting for night so you could escape after stealing it in the day, was boring, but also a little frightening. The way the goblin king screamed and screeched about a thief and needing to find his prize made you briefly fear for your safety, but it didn't take long for you to realize they're too dumb to spot you. 

You may not be the strongest in terms of physical strength and brute force, but your willpower and cunning got you through it almost effortlessly. And, if you did get into a physical altercation, your agility and reflexes would help you go down while taking them out with you. 

Anyways, your point it that, he may not recognize your face since he never saw you, but if he sees the ring then it's over for you. 

So, once you regain your rational thought after your daze, you slip it off your finger and shove it into one of the hidden pockets in your shirt. Who knows if he'll recognize the ring or not. 

In no time you are being hauled up to your feet and dragged away with the rest of your companions, though you are a fair bit taller than all of them so it's harder for these nasty bastards to keep you under control. 

No matter how vast or grand your skills are, you'd never be able to take on all of these guys; you're a stealth master for a reason after all. 

The lot of you are taken down a series of paths to an audience with the horrendous Goblin King, and along the way you manage to kick quite a few of those grabby little monsters down into the dark depths below. 

A minute or so passes that ends with all of you, ultimately, in front of the Goblin Kind and helpless. 

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" His voice booms in front of all of you, echoing throughout the caves, "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?” 

Something like that. 

You are, technically, all three, but none of you are there for him.

One of the small, ugly creatures steps forward and informs him of who you all are,  "Dwarfs and a human, your Malevolence." 

His face morphs into one of disgust and he practically spits out, "Dwarfs?" 

"We found them on the front porch." The lacky confirms. 

“Well, don’t just stand there; search them! Every crack, every crevice.” He cries, slamming his fist down which makes the wood tremble beneath all of you. 

A bunch of words are traded and the Great Goblin exposes his knowledge about Thorin and the fact that his greatest enemy, Azog the Defiler, is still alive and kicking. 

“Send word to the Pale Orc; tell him I have found his prize.” A twisted smile takes over his huge face and causes that skin beard to shift, a disgustingly entrancing movement, and he looks down at the searching goblins expectantly. 

You've had a 3 of your knives tossed aside and your short sword has been stolen, but you're happy to report that some of your hidden weapons and the stolen goods are still hidden. 

Suddenly, one of the goblins loses it's head and throws something in front of the group, screeching and screaming with horror. 

The Great Goblin recoils and he hisses out fearfully, "I know that sword! It is the Goblin-Cleaver, the Biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks." 

Whips and nails, teeth and palms, the dwarfs are abused with every limb, weapon, and thing possible, and before you can even think on it, your voice demands the attention of them all. 

"Wait!" 

Silence, stillness, attention. 

God, you hate it. 

You slip the ring from your pocket and onto your finger and take a step forward unobstructed from the enraged goblins, slightly nervous but blank in expression. 

"I cannot hide it anymore. Every second that passes weighs on my soul, for the desire to be recognized for my deeds is too strong." 

"Speak your piece, human, what do you want?" 

You raise your ringed hand and brandish the smooth metal off to him, "Do you recognize this? The ring I so cleverly stole from you all those months ago?" 

"M-My ring!" He bellows, taking a step forward, "How- You thief! You were the one who stole from me? You?!" 

You say nothing at first and betray no emotion in your face, lowering your hand back to your side. When you do speak, you push arrogance into your voice, "I took it while you indulged yourself in sleep, and then I hid right under your nose for an entire day, holding my prize and listening to your whining and petulant screams." The insults are all well aimed and meant to enrage him, for you're hoping to take his attention off of the dwarfs before he can have them all killed. "If I had known you were so pathetic and slow-witted, I would have taken it during the night and saved myself the time." 

Someone calls your name, Thorin, and he hisses with confusion, "What are you doing?" 

You ignore him. 

If he weren't so pale and colorless he would've been red with anger at your taunting words. The Great Goblin is seething and spitting, his huge, clawed hands clenched into fists as he tries to form a coherent thought. 

"You dare speak down to me? You will be punished!" He cries, pointing a long nailed finger at you, "Cut the ring from those thieving hands, and then take those hands as well!" 

Your expression shifts when you're shoved forward and onto the ground on your hands and knees, taking on a more defiant look despite the hint of fear in your eyes. 

It's not like you want them to cut off your hands, you kind of need those, but you're fairly confident that this groups luck will strike once again and save you from a life of picking things up with your feet and wrists (if they don't kill you, that is).

"No!" Someone yells from the group of dwarfs and goblins, followed by shouts and calls from others as well. 

Unfortunately, the roaring in your ears is too loud for you to make out individual voices, but it's nice that they aren't apathetic towards your fate. 

Before you know it you're being shoved face-first into the ground and your arms are being wrenched out from beneath you, stretched out and poised for being cut off. Your finger with the ring on it is pulled from your fist, and when you glance up, you see a sword poised above the head of a goblin, ready to relieve you of your hand. 

There's lots of screaming and yelling, and at some point you squeeze your eyes shut since you're no longer confident in your assessment that you'll be saved in the nick of time.

Finally, right when your fate is about to finally be sealed, a bright light blinds you all and renders the goblins immobilized momentarily. 

Gandalf the Gray stands there with his powerful staff in hand and an aura of white surrounding him, meanwhile you all just stare in awe. 

“Take up arms. Fight. Fight!” He demands, slamming his staff on the ground which shakes your very souls. 

You, and everyone else, require no more prompting. 

In one swift movement you roll back onto your feet and steal the discarded sword aimed to take your hands, and then you jump right into the action. 

You and the entirety of the group make a swift and action packed escape where you spend the majority of your time protecting the Durin's, sticking close to them and keeping the goblins away. 

Everything passes by in a blur of limbs, blood, and violence, and it isn't until you've killed the Great Goblin and escaped back out into the light of the soon setting sun that you have a moment to breathe and think about all the things that just took place. 

It's at this time that everyone finishes running and takes a moment to catch their breath that you all realize Bilbo is missing, and you immediately curse yourself for not keeping a closer eye on him. 

A couple of the dwarfs begin to blame each other and there's some mumbling amongst themselves, but Thorin has another idea entirely about what really happened. 

"I’ll tell you what happened. Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! He’s thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door! We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone." 

You purse your lips but say nothing despite your disagreement with his words; arguing with the people 'paying you' isn't the brightest idea, so it's better to just keep your mouth shut. 

And then, quite the peculiar thing, said hobbit steps out from behind a tree and states matter-of-factly, "No, he isn't." 

There is varying amounts of surprise and shock that wash throughout all of your expressions. Hell, your eyes even widen slightly when he appears so suddenly. How did you not notice him even with your ring on?

"Bilbo Baggins! I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life!” The gray wizard exclaims with a grand smile on his wrinkling face. 

Kili speaks next, informing the little hobbit that there was little hope surrounding him. "Bilbo, we'd given you up!" 

"How on earth did you get past the goblins?!" Fili wonders.

"How indeed..." Dwalin sounds suspicious almost when he repeats Fili's question, but you're entirely worried about something else. 

"Are you alright, Bilbo?" You chime in before he can explain himself, stepping closer to give him a quick once over. 

You were hired to protect the Durin's, but you need all of them to get access to that mountain with ease.

Or, at least, that's what you tell yourself. 

The hobbit looks up at you and offers a slightly nervous smile, "I am fine. Just a few bumps and bruises." 

"I want to know...," Thorin's voice breaks through your conversation as he asks, "Why did you come back?"

A quick moment of silence passes as you look down at your feet and listen carefully, actually a bit curious yourself.

It isn't like you couldn't do his part of the job for him, though your assignment is something else entirely, and he expressed his desire to leave right before you were all kidnapped by the goblins... so why would he come back?

"Look, I know you doubt me, I know you always have," Bilbo begins with a slightly grim face, "And you’re right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden..." He trails off as a faraway look momentarily blurs his vision, probably imagining what he could be doing at home right now, and you all watch and listen carefully. "See, that’s where I belong. That’s home. And that’s why I came back, cause you don’t have one - a home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can.”

Your eyebrows furrow together when he finishes speaking his piece, because his words are... greatly troubling. 

He was ready to leave it all behind before, mere seconds away from leaving back towards The Shire and Bag End, but here he is now. He came back because he genuinely wants to help; he wants them to reclaim their home and find their wandering origins. 

Everyone is silent as they think over the words Bilbo speaks, and while it awes most of them, you only feel more bothered. 

Such a kind hobbit who you may likely need to kill. 

"That's foolish." You find yourself saying that before you can even think about it, something that's been happening too often for your liking. 

You get several shocked looks, hell, you're shocked yourself, but you don't take back your statement. 

Where did this disdain come from all of a sudden? This disdain not towards the kind hearted hobbit, but towards yourself?

"You are not the person to be calling the actions of our Master Burglar, foolish." Gandalf scolds, eyeing you with a pointed look. "I know your taunting and teasing towards the Goblin King was no accident or arrogance driven necessity. And I also know that you could have easily broken yourself free before harm befell upon you. I brought you along to do a job, and do this job you have - much too well. I thank you for the distraction, but your methods may have proved to be a mistake had I not arrived on time." 

You look back at the gray wizard with an unwavering stare, eyes slightly narrowed as you attempt to glare him into submission; only, he doesn't relent and stares right back at you. 

"You came in time." A weak defense.

"And if I hadn't?" He asks, voice raising slightly. Gandalf doesn't much like backtalk. "How far would you have taken it? Were you going to allow them to take your hands? To cut that trinket from your finger?" 

This time you hesitate in replying, something akin to a pout tugging at your lips. "Of course not. I had faith that you would come, and you did...," you trail off, then add begrudgingly, "And if you hadn't, then I could have escaped quite easily." 

Another silence filled by the two big egos facing off against each other. 

Gandalf's ego wins, unfortunately. 

You relent and look away, catching the troubled gazes of Fili and Kili. 

Did your actions really bother them that much?

"Well what do you suppose I should do? Let them harm you all?" You wouldn't let that happen. 

That thought that lingers behind your words makes your eyebrows knit together in confusion once again, and your gaze wanders away once more.

Now that you think about it, why did you do it? I mean, why did you really do it? 

You knew they weren't actually going to die just like that, he's too scared of the pale orc to do that, but you did it anyways. The possibility of harm befalling upon these dwarfs actually... affected you.

Gandalf pauses and observes you carefully, then realization sparkles in those infuriatingly wise eyes of his. 

"Well, no matter. I did not mean to scold you, for you are a very capable person, so I thank you for doing your job well and diligently." He lets those words hang in the air for a time, then he moves on, "Now, we must discuss where we are and where we must go." 

"I say-" Thorin begins, only to be cut off by howls and the sound of a gravely voice speaking in another language. "Out of the frying pan..." He sighs with a weary face. 

"And into the fire! Run! Run!!" The gray wizard snaps.

You all begin your hasty retreat down the mountain, and at some point the sun begins to set. 

The sky turns all sorts of vibrant shades of orange, blue, and red, and the light delicately kisses the peaks of each tree, mountain top, and surface. The air smells fresh, as it usually does following a hard rain, and the grass and leaves glisten healthy because of the drink offered to them by the sky. It's a magnificent sight to behold, but none of you are able to appreciate it, for the beauty of nature is being darkened and tainted by the evil intent and fear. 

Those nasty wargs chase you all down like prey, maybe that's exactly what you are, meanwhile your feet take you as far away and as quickly as they can. 

You jog behind the two youngest Durin's, being as Thorin takes the lead as per usual, and keep a slow enough pace to avoid taking over them (they're not the fastest group of dwarfs, after all). You can't have them becoming warg food when you still need them to get you into that mountain...

"Pick up your feet more when you run!" You command, glancing behind you briefly to gauge just how close those bastards are. 

They heed your advice and end up running just a bit faster, something that relieves you somewhat.  

The land begins to thin out and the ground you run on narrows, thus forcing all of you onto a cliff filled with trees and a precipice topped with a leaning tree. 

“Up into the trees, all of you! Come on, climb! Bilbo, climb!” Gandalf demands, jumping up to grab one of the low hanging branches and pulling himself up. 

You stay planted firmly in place and wait for everyone to find a spot in a tree and climb to safety, and while everyone else, even Bombur, finds somewhere to avoid the bloodthirsty wargs, Bilbo is still running for the tree line. 

A frustrated curse passes through your gritted teeth, but you waste no time in rushing forward and yanking Bilbo away from the jaws of an awaiting warg. You foot shoots up and crashes into the side of its face, successfully knocking it off course since you nailed it in the eye which gives you two enough time to sort things out. 

"Quickly!" You hiss, leaning crouching down with your hands clasped in front of you, "I can boost you up, but you mustn't waste anymore time!" 

The little hobbit nods his head and steps his big right foot into your awaiting hands, and, once he's secured, you launch him up and into the awaiting low hanging branches. 

"Y/N!" Fili screams from above you, panic lining his voice. 

Your gaze snaps forward just in time to see sharp teeth and brown fur, but right before those razor teeth can sink into the soft flesh of your neck, a rock comes sailing through the sky and nails the nasty beast right in the nose. 

It whimpers and jerks its head off to the side, but you don't waste anymore time in watching it freak out and instead roll around to the other side of the tree and jump up to grab a branch and pull yourself further up so they can't get your feet. 

You reach up to grasp another branch, but someone catches your hand instead and easily hauls you into another layer of the tree. 

"I've got you." It's Dwalin, and he doesn't let go of your hand right away until you're secure. 

"Thank you." You dip your head after voicing your thanks then do a quick once-over to make sure everyone is safe in the trees, only, you don't get the chance to finish that before those wild dogs begin to rip at the roots holding the strong pines into place. 

One by one do each of the trees begin to lean and fall, creating a domino affect that forces all of you to hang vicariously over the edge of the cliffside. 

A quick glance down shows you the imminent death that awaits you below, and, for the first time since this chase began, you fear for your and everyone else's lives. 

"Catch!" Kili yells to you, tossing a flaming pinecone your way. 

Where did they get flaming pinecones? 

Gandalf of course, you should've known even before you looked up. 

You turn your attention ahead once more and pull your arm back, poised to throw the pinecone with all your might, only to stop mid-swing when something, or rather, someone, gets in your way. 

Thorin Oakenshield stands on the trunk of the sinking tree with his weight distributed to maintain balance, and just ahead is Azog the Defiler, staring him down with an arrogant, sick smile. 

Oh Jesus... this dwarf sure doesn't make your job easy. 

You throw the pinecone since the flames began to lick at your gloved fingers and move to stand up, but the branch you sit upon cracks and creaks, groaning under the sudden movement. 

Shit.

If he dies the dwarfs may give up on the entire journey altogether and decide to leave the mountain alone, and then where will that leave you?

You don't even want to think about it. 

Another attempt is made to pull yourself up onto the thick trunk, but this time the entire branch cracks and breaks, falling out from beneath you as it hangs by the sparsely attached strings of ripped apart wood. 

You just barely manage to throw yourself into the trunk and hang off the side, feet dangling in open air with nothing to leverage yourself with.

Panic blooms in your chest as you completely loose control over the situation, unable to even swing your legs up because of the way your arms can't completely wrap around the trunk. 

"No!" Dwalin screams just above you, catching your attention briefly despite your panic. 

You look over to the side and see that Thorin has lost his fight against the pale orc. He lays on the ground, unmoving and defeated as another one of Azog's companions raise its' weapon above its' head to kill the dwarf king. 

"Damn it!" You hiss helplessly, pawing uselessly around the rough bark in search of any sort of leg up. "Thorin!" 

This is it. They're going to kill him and all of you are going to fall to your deaths, soaring through the sky for a brief time before you become nothing more than bloody splatters on the ground below. 

The sound of metal hitting metal and the clashing of weapons draws your ear as you begin to slip further down the circumference of the trunk, but you can't even turn to look because there's nothing left for you to do. 

The rest of your body drags your arms from around the tree and, in a last ditch effort to avoid the drop, you grasp the broken, hanging branch. 

It snaps of as soon as your weight yanks it down, and then... you're free falling. 

Someone screams your name (is that Bofur?) but you don't do anything. 

You don't writhe or scream; you don't flail your arms or cry; you just stare up at the horror stricken faces and your partners in falling (Dori and Ori) as numbness overtakes your whole body. 

Yes, your stomach drops as the feeling of falling sickens you, but in your heart, in your soul, you feel nothing. 

It's not like you've led a particularly good life or anything, but still, you don't want to die. Even if there is nothing for you, no one that cares, you still don't want to go; because once you're dead, the only thing anyone will remember you as is a ruthless monster, a puppet of The Brotherhood. 

You don't want to die. 

Maybe you should've rejected the job in the first place; maybe you should've made better designs in general; maybe you should've allowed yourself to let those foolish dwarfs and sweet hobbit close if to just feel a moment of belonging. 

Little do you know, all of these thoughts will prove to complicate your mission further, because this is, in fact, not the end. 

One moment you're falling to your death while having an existential crisis, and the next you're being snatched out of the sky by one of the Great Eagles.

[jessikahathaway]

Into Eternity - FINAL

So, oh my gosh this is actually happening???

I have been writing this story for three years and it honestly has gotten me through so much? I love these characters and to give them an ending has brought me so many emotions. Thank you to everyone who has read and has loved these characters as much as I have.

Now buckle up, for the finale.

Pairing: Jimin X Reader

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Royalty!AU

Words: 8,877

Warnings: Attempted Suicide (it isn't graphic, but it's there so please be aware of that), Explicit Sexual Content, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Unprotected Sex (She preggie, but y'all be careful), Creampie, Dirty Talk. Birthing Scene (Not terribly graphic but just be aware), the fluff we've all been waiting forrrrr! (If I forgot anything please do let me know!)

It had been a week since the fight with Morgana and your death.

Jimin hadn’t been coping well at all.

Taehyung entered the bedroom where they had set you after the fight. Father Jin redressed you and washed your hair, but other than that you hadn’t moved or breathed. Nothing to note that you were alive. Father Jin had resigned himself to his room and hadn’t come out. Jungkook was training for hours on end and Taehyung was too busy trying to keep Jimin alive to do much else.

Hoseok had sent for more guards and they arrived soon after. Although they weren’t allowed inside the palace. No one was to come near, Jimin would have them beheaded.

Taehyung saw the same sight he’d seen for the last week. Jimin, at your bedside, waiting.

“Sire,” Taehyung announced his entrance.

“Taehyung,” Jimin answered softly.

“I brought you something to drink and a bit of porridge, will you eat it?” He asked, looking down at the small mugs in his hands.

“Yes, I’ll eat,” Jimin answered.

Turning around Taehyung sighed as he saw the dark bags under his eyes. The look of exhaustion that filled his frame was overwhelmingly sad. Taehyung knew his friend, and he was a shadow of himself. As if he were slowly dying without you with him.

But Taehyung pressed on, a smile coming across his features.

“Here you are,” Taehyung said, setting the mugs in his hands.

Jimin ate slowly, methodically. As if it was a chore to be doing so.

Taehyung wondered if he tasted it, his eyes were so devoid. It was like he was a skeleton walking around. No joints or ligaments, just bones clacking together. The way he moved was awkward and ungraceful, nothing like the Prince he knew. One thing was for certain.

He missed you.

“Jimin, do you want to take a bath?” Taehyung asked, looking at his friend’s appearance.

“No,” he said quietly.

“It’ll take a few minutes, please,” Taehyung urged.

“I’d rather not right now,” Jimin almost whispered.

“It’s okay, perhaps later,” Taehyung gave in, knowing that it wouldn’t happen later either.

“Taehyung,” Jimin’s voice was stronger this time.

“Yes, sire?”

“Do you think she’s really dead?”

“I don’t-”

“Perhaps this is what they wanted for me. To suffer without her,” he said bitterly.

“Don’t think so lowly of your ancestor, he tried to do what he could for you both,” Taehyung admonished.

“Perhaps I should die as well, join my beloved where we can be free together,” Jimin said, laying his head down on the bed, and gazing at you with misty eyes.

“Jimin!” Taehyung yelled.

Jimin flinched but didn’t move.

“I don’t think this is what Y/N would’ve wanted for you. She wouldn’t want to watch you starve yourself. She would want you to lie here and wait for something that might not happen. She’d want you to go out and live your life. To go out and be happy. Jimin, please listen to me. The way you’re treating yourself isn’t anything like what Y/N would’ve wanted for you. She loved you so much, and wanted nothing but the best for you. So for you to disrespect her wishes like this... It makes me sad, Jimin, truly it does.”

“So you do think she’s dead,” Jimin whispered.

“Jimin,” Taehyung said.

“Get out,” Jimin demanded softly.

“Jimin listen.”

“Get out Taehyung!” Jimin screamed, standing up.

Taehyung didn’t waste anymore time, slamming the door before he left.

--

It was the day of your funeral...

Jimin had fought tooth and nail to make sure he never saw this day, but here it was. It had been two weeks since your death. And Father Jin said it was time to lay you to rest. Jimin had denied it at first, but now, there was an eerie calm that settle over the palace. Jimin was silent, save for the few words he spoke to Taehyung. But other than that, no words left the man.

“We are here today to lay to rest a soul who has touched all of us in many ways,” Father Jin began.

You were laying in your coffin, beautiful as the day Jimin first saw you. The maids had braided gorgeous ribbons in your hair, and graced your face with the smallest amount of makeup, enhancing that natural beauty you had. Jimin’s eyes were filled with tears as he looked at you. His beloved bride, going so soon. And it was his fault you were dead. Because he couldn’t protect you.

“Jimin,” Taehyung whispered, nudging his friend.

“I’m fine,” he whispered back, wiping his eyes gingerly.

“Lady Y/N was a tender soul. Someone who wanted nothing but to share love and happiness wherever she went. I had the pleasure of knowing her, and I will forever miss her and her laughter. She is with God now, and I will take comfort in knowing that. May God rest her soul.”

Father Jin stepped away from the casket, Namjoon taking his place.

“Lady Y/N was fearless, and bright. Always willing to lend a hand to those in need. I failed her a guard and I will forever be unworthy. But as I continue on with life I will live for her, I will live with her in mind so that no one will ever suffer the same fate. I will protect the Royal family for the rest of my days, and will forever ask for forgiveness that I wasn’t able to protect them this time. Lady Y/N, I am so sorry. May you grace us with your love and kindness, so that we may forgive ourselves as well. You will be missed, dearly,” Namjoon said.

The rest of the proceedings went on, yet Jimin felt numb.

You lay there before him, so close yet out of reach. His soul yearned to reach out for yours, longing to touch you, to hold you. To bring you into his embrace and care for you as you did for him. When it was finally his turn to save you, he failed...

“Y/N was a beautiful person,” Taehyung began.

“She was smart, funny and a true joy to be around. I remember the first time I met her. She was outspoken, yet, in the best way. She challenged all of us to be better. To think more, to be more. She challenged me to be the best version of myself, and all I can say, is that I will continue to be the best person I can be. I will remember her fondly, and I will always be grateful for what she has done for me and my friends. May God rest her soul,” he repeated.

Yoongi spoke next, saying little but it was enough. Although Jimin still felt as though something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

Soon, it was Jimin’s turn to speak.

He felt awkward as he went to the front to speak. He took a deep breath in and imagined you, holding his hand. The warmth that suffused him gave him the strength to speak.

“Y/N was... everything to me. Never have I loved like I loved her. She was beautiful, caring, sweet and... maddening. She challenged everything I knew about myself. Everything I ever thought I knew, and she changed me. Y/N changed me for the better. She made me believe that I could do anything, be anything. No matter what I thought about myself, she always believed in me. More than I did. Y/N was knowledgeable. She loved to read, I promised her a library. That way she could read without me getting in her way, I had a way of interrupting her at the most important part of the book she’d tell me...” Jimin laughed, tears coming down his cheeks. “I love her so much, even now I love her so dearly and so fiercely that this all feels wrong. To be burying her feels like a foreign concept to me that I cannot accept. I-I... don’t want this to be it.”

“Y/N, I love you. Please forgive me,” Jimin said, taking out a vial.

It was poison. Jimin had planned to end his life here. Perhaps that was what had felt so wrong the whole time. The fact that he knew he’d be ending his life in front of his friends brought him no comfort. He only felt guilt, but he couldn’t bear another day without you here. It wasn’t feasible to him. It was everything he could do to stand right now.

“Jimin no!”

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, bringing the vial to his lips.

“I love you too,” a soft voice answered.

Before Jimin could turn around, Namjoon and Jungkook tackled him to the ground, taking the vial from his hands.

“No!” Jimin fought back, thrashing around like a child.

“Sire please!” Jungkook said, reaching for the vial.

“Jimin?”

Everyone froze.

Jimin looked up to see you, his beloved bride, sitting up in your casket.

“Y/N?” he whispered. Unable to believe his eyes.

“Jimin? What’s going on?” you asked, looking around. From your standpoint, you felt like you’d been asleep for a very long time. As if you’d be put under a sleeping spell or something along those lines. But now, you felt better than ever, as if you were refreshed for the first time in a long while.

“Y/N...” Jimin said, looking at you in disbelief.

“Jimin, what am I doing in here?” you asked, placing your hands on the side of the coffin.

“My love,” Jimin said, standing up and coming to your side. You looked up and smiled, so glad to see him.

“Hi,” you said, placing your hand on his cheeks. He’d been crying, you could tell.

“Y/N,” he whimpered, wrapping you up in his arms and cradling you to his chest.

“Jimin?” you asked, trying to push him back so you could look at him. But he held you firm.

“My darling, I thought I lost you,” he said, tears falling down his cheeks so freely.

“I don’t understand, the last time I saw you I was... How am I here?” you asked, looking around.

“It doesn’t matter, my love, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here now,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

“But Jimin,” you started.

“Shhh,” he shushed, tangling his fingers in your hair. “I love you, so much,” he said, tilting your head up.

“I love you too,” you said back, but before you could say much else his lips were on yours. Jimin wasted no time, pulling you from the coffin without much difficulty. Jimin had you in his arms and like hell he was ever going to let you go again.

Slowly he pulled away and let his head rest against yours.

“Can you stand?” he asked, placing your feet on the ground.

“I think so,” you answered. Carefully, you took a step, almost falling to the ground if it wasn’t for Jimin’s strong arms keeping you up.

“Maybe not just yet darling, let me carry you,” he said, sweeping you up into his arms.

“Jimin!” you gasped, hanging onto his neck, not wanting to fall.

“I’ve got you,” he said, starting to carry you back towards the palace. The rest of the men there did nothing but watch as Jimin carried you in his arms.

“I never thought that this marriage would work out,” Taehyung said softly, looking at the disappearing silhouette of you and Jimin.

“Well, never say never I guess,” Namjoon said back, crossing his arms.

“I’m glad it worked out, Jimin deserves to be happy,” Jungkook commented.

“They both deserve it,” Father Jin said, smiling.

--

Your coronation was creeping up on you.

You and Jimin both would be crowned King and Queen of Arcane Kingdom. The people would be yours to govern and yours to care for. They were now your responsibility and duty. It weighed heavily on you, the stress of being a Royal. But you didn’t let it show, because you had been given a second chance at life another try.

No one gets that lucky.

But you did. And you weren’t going to waste it.

After everything that had happened, you were still so glad that you were with Jimin. Able to call him yours. It made your heart sing knowing he was your partner in all of this, your husband and truest love.

A knocking at the door shook you from your thoughts.

“Lady Y/N,” Father Jin said from the other side of the door.

“You can come in Father,” you said, putting your hairbrush down as you turned to face the door.

“I’m here as you requested,” he said, holding his bible and other various things you’d requested.

“Wonderful, I need your help,” you said, moving towards the bed.

Father Jin looked at you with confusion.

“It’s been two months and I haven’t bled yet. I-I was hoping you could find out if I was with child?” You said softly.

Father Jin almost fainted on the spot.

“W-With child? My dearest Y/N are you sure?” He asked coming forward.

“I’ve been having symptoms, the nausea in the morning, wanting weird foods and of course not bleeding but, I just wanted to know. I know if I have the palace physician check and I am pregnant he’ll run and tell Jimin. I want to tell him myself, it’s our possible child,” you said.

Father Jin beamed at you, quickly getting his materials ready.

“It would by my absolute honor my Lady,” he said. You smiled.

He busied himself with usual questions and looking at your stomach.

Finally Father Jin smiled brightly at you.

Biting your lip hard you heard his answer.

“My dear Lady Y/N, congratulations. You’re with child,” he said. Tears burst from you quickly, unable to handle the emotion of the whole situation.

You had been so worried that perhaps Morgana killing you would ruin your chances at having a child with Jimin. And considering you two had been having plenty of intimate moments, it was starting to become a fear.

But now...

Now you’re pregnant. With Jimin’s child.

Everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

“Father Jin,” you cried, hanging onto him so tightly. He pet your head gingerly, making sure you were alright before pulling back.

“Your timeline is correct, you are around two month pregnant,” he said, looking at your stomach with nothing but sheer adoration.

“I’ve been so worried,” you hiccuped.

“It’s alright Y/N, you are pregnant. And may the Lord bless you and your unborn child,” he said softly.

“Can you please keep this between us?” You asked.

“I won’t tell a soul,” he agreed.

“Thank you Father, truly, thank you so much.”

—

You were incredibly giddy for the rest of the week. Everyone had taken notice of your spunk and lively attitude. The stoic Yoongi even asked what had you all excited.

You just brushed it off, telling them you’d read a really good book or just ate something delicious. You wanted to tell Jimin so badly. But he was nowhere to be found no matter how hard you looked. The only time you were with him was when he crawled into bed with you early in the morning. Wrapping himself around you and keeping you close to him.

But he was always gone before you woke up.

You knew he was getting ready for the Royal coronation coming up soon, but it still made you a little sad. The distance.

However, you had planned it perfectly.

Jimin’s favorite lace night dress was wrapped around your body. A soft pink dressing gown over top. The man enjoyed unwrapping you like a present.

It was everything you could do not to just run to him in his study and proclaim your pregnancy to him then and there. But you oh so loved the look on his face when you gave him surprises.

Teasing little hints.

It was already late into the night, but you were determined to stay up and see your husband. It was moderately boring in your bedroom, alone, but it wouldn’t be lonely for long...

Just as you thought about going out on the balcony for some fresh air, you heard Jimin enter the room. You hadn’t seen him awake in a few days so you rushed over immediately to see him.

“Jimin!” You said, rushing to bring him into your arms.

Jimin smiled, looking exhausted, but happier now that he got to see you.

“Y/N, it’s late. What are you doing up?” He asked, kissing the top of your head with such tenderness it made your heart ache.

“Wanted to see you,” you mumbled, cheek pressed against his shoulder.

“Well, you’ve seen me. But I think it’s time for bed,” he said, removing his tunic and draping it along the chair of your vanity.

“Can we talk first? There is something important I have to tell you,” you said, taking his hand in yours.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

“Just sit down,” you said, moving him towards the bed. Jimin sat down heavily, looking up at you with a gentle smile.

“Alright my love, what did you want to discuss,” he said, rubbing his face.

He was utterly worn out, and you could see it on his face. But you knew what you were about to say would make it all worth it. It would be okay.

“Jimin, I want you to know something,” you swallowed hard. Trying to keep your emotions from becoming too much.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m fine Jimin. But, I want you to know how much I love you. How much I adore waking up in the morning next to you. And how much I love being your wife,” you said, bringing your hand to his cheek softly.

“I love you too,” he said, a smile appearing on his weary features.

“Jimin, I-I...” you stammered, trying to find the words to get them out. Jimin frowned at your flustered attitude. Normally you could tell him anything, he wondered what had gotten you so worked up.

“Jimin,” you said, walking closer. His sparkling eyes looked up at you and you so hoped the babe in your stomach would inherit those beautiful eyes.

“Jimin I’m with child,” you said, bringing his hand to your stomach.

Jimin’s whole demeanor changed instantaneously.

“What?” He croaked, looking up into your eyes with so much hope.

“Father Jin confirmed it,” you said.

“Y-You’re really pregnant?” He asked, looking at your stomach with a multitude of emotions running across his face.

“Yes,” you said.

“Oh my God, Y/N,” he cried, bringing you into his arms. Big fat tears were rolling down his face, catching in your hair and dressing gown.

“It’s okay, Jimin it’s alright,” you said, holding him tightly.

“I’ve waited for so long to hear those words from you,” he whimpered.

“I was worried that... possibly I couldn’t after-you know. But, I-I know they’re healthy, I can feel it,” you said brightly.

“I know they are too, my love. You’ll care for them so well, they’re going to be so perfect. You’re perfect,” he said, bringing his lips to yours gently.

Smiling into the kiss you attempted to deepen it, longing for your husband's touch. But Jimin quickly pulled away.

“I’m so exhausted my love, would it be okay if I just held you tonight? Both of you?” He asked, looking down at your stomach with so much love it made your heart stammer.

“Of course, Jimin, that’s always okay,” you said.

You both went to bed, sharing innocent pecks and warm words of love for each other.

It was so perfect.

—

Being pregnant was rather grueling task, you’d found out.

There were the weird food cravings. The palace chefs could hardly keep up with you. Then the constant nausea that had plagued you and often made you miss out on certain meals. And the aching of your back and feet was another problem.

But the love you felt for the being inside of you right now, was more than you could’ve ever dreamed.

Although, there was another symptom of your pregnancy that had been particularly hard to handle.

You were ravenous for your husbands touch.

Except, he hadn’t really wanted to do anything like that with you for a while... the last time you two had been intimate was when you made this baby. And that was five months ago.

Now that you were coming into a different stage of your pregnancy, everything was getting harder. Clothing yourself, putting on shoes. It was all so taxing and you mainly wanted to rest.

Unless Jimin was there.

In which case you wanted him to ravish you until the morning came.

But, for some reason, he didn’t feel the same.

Of course he loved you, this wasn’t something you doubted. But he was very busy and you were already pregnant so what was the point in engaging in those kinds of activities if the end goal was achieved... right?

You knew Jimin loved you, he said it and showed it often. But you wished he would take you to bed and pleasure you. Let you have as much of his cum as you wanted. However, something was stopping him.

And you were determined to find out what.

Walking through the palace halls you found your husband admiring the gardens out in front of the castle. Jimin loved seeing the flowers blooming and flourishing with colors. Made him feel light inside.

You came up beside him and looked at the flowers with him. He smiled at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and bringing you close.

The two of you stood like that, in silence for a few moments before you decided to speak.

“Jimin,” you said, keeping your eyes trained outside.

“Yes my love?” He answered, looking at you with pure joy.

“You seem distant lately,” you said, wrapping your arm around his waist.

“Have I? I thought we’d been spending quite a lot of time together... although if you’re feeling neglected I can see if I have more time to spare-”

“I-uh... I’ve noticed that we haven’t been... intimate since we conceived and I was just wondering, if you simply weren’t attracted to me being like this? Or if it’s because we’re already pregnant so there’s no need to try anymore or, um, something else maybe?”

Jimin’s face looked mortified as he tried to gather his scrambled mind and unprepared thoughts.

“Y/N, love no! Of course not! I absolutely adore being intimate with you! And not attracted to you? I-I can’t hardly control myself when I’m around you. Pregnant and swollen with my child,” he said, almost growling out the last part.

“Then why Jimin? Why haven’t you been touching me? Letting me touch you! What’s going on?” You asked, wondering what was causing the distance between your husband and you.

“T-the palace physician warned me about being with you like that, I don’t want to hurt you or the baby,” he said softly.

“But it’s not dangerous-Father Jin was encouraging me to, well as much as he would encourage someone to be intimate...” you said. “He said we should be... with one another as much as we can. It’s good for us to relieve the stress and I’ll never complain about you showing your love to me and my love for you.”

“But, what if I go too hard? What if I, I don’t know, make the baby come early? Or what if-”

“Jimin, my love, these are a lot of what ifs. Not a lot of what will... Nothing will happen to me or the child. That I can promise you,” you said, holding your distended stomach with affection. “You’d never hurt us.”

The young King looked so torn. Like he truly didn’t know what to do.

“I’m just... I’m worried about you,” he said softly, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m tough,” you said, squeezing his hand gently.

“I know, God I know how strong you are. More than fit to be the Queen of this Kingdom, my wife, my equal... But, carrying a child is no small feat,” he said, brushing your hair off your face.

“It isn’t but I’m not doing it alone,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’ve been with me every step of the way. We had rocky beginnings, but look at where we are now. Look at how much we’ve overcome and how much we will overcome in the future. It’s incredible, Jimin. You are the ruler that destroyed the witch Morgana,” you said.

“Actually, you’re the one who dealt the killing blow on that one, I just get all the credit cause I’m the King. Unfair if you ask me,” Jimin laughed lightly.

“What I’m saying is, you’re so brave, stubborn and wickedly smart. Surely you can think of a way in which we can be intimate and it not harm me or the babe?” You said, biting your lip.

“Don’t do that, I’ve been having dreams about your sweet mouth,” he groaned.

“Mmm, have you? Perhaps I should give it to you then, hmm?” You teased.

Jimin was a rather dominant person, but you’d discovered that sometimes he likes to be pushed around in bed. Told what to do and to be praised. It wasn’t something you’d been entirely good at to start, but, with a little practice you’d gotten the hang of it.

“My love,” he croaked.

“Jimin, I know you. I know how careful and gentle you can be. I’ll tell you if anything hurts or if I’m uncomfortable. But please, please take me to bed,” you begged.

Finally, it seemed you broke through. Because soon, you were being practically dragged down the hallway. Jimin’s grip on your wrist was tight, but not enough to hurt. You smirked as he hauled you into the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind the two of you.

“God, look at you,” he murmured, coming forward to place his hands on your swollen belly. “So beautiful, so perfect carrying my child.”

“All yours,” you agreed, humming as his lips touched your neck.

“And I’m yours,” he said softly.

“Take this off,” you pleaded, tugging at his shirt with disdain. Giving you a coy grin, he pulled the shirt off and threw it on the floor. You ran your hands over his beautiful body, teasingly pinching his nipple, causing him to flinch.

“Little sprite, I’ll teach you to tease me,” he growled. Wetness pooled between your legs. Jimin came forward, finally connecting your lips.

Kissing Jimin was something you’d never tire of. You were certain. The way his plush lips moved over yours with reckless abandon make you squirm. His mouth captured your own, pulling you into a romantic embrace as the pair of you shared your breath.

“Jimin,” you whispered as he pulled away.

“What is it my love? What do you desire?” He asked, moving his lips along your jawline.

“Whatever you’ll give me, I want it all,” you pleaded.

“My my, so greedy. What a greedy Queen I have,” he tutted. You whined at his tone, wanting nothing more for the clothes between you to be removed.

“I just want you, only you,” you pleaded.

“You have me my love, all of me,” he said, kissing you softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, cradling his head. You felt the back of your bed against your knees, forcing you to sit down while Jimin kissed you with such ferocity it made your poor core clench tightly around nothing.

“And you have all of me in return,” you smiled. Jimin pushed you onto your back, making you stare at the ceiling. Your heart was hammering so hard in your chest, you could feel it in your throat.

“I-Is it okay if I pleasure you? With my mouth?” He asked, looking at you beneath his long lashes. You smiled and brushed his hair from his face gently, but this was not without difficulty, you swollen tummy proving to be an obstacle.

“Mmm, that does sound nice. But, you have had me wait five months for you. I’m slightly tempted to skip the foreplay and go right for the main event,” you mused, watching as Jimin’s eyes inflated slightly. You smiled at his obvious desire for you, before you sat up and undid the ties at the front of your gown. Jimin watched as your chest relaxed, breasts bigger than they were before you’d gotten pregnant.

“I-If you’re wet enough,” he said, licking his lips.

“Why don’t you check?” You said, peeling your dress from your shoulders and easing the fabric down. Jimin moved so you could wiggle out of the offending material and lay naked on the bed. He was astounded and slightly concerned that you hadn’t been wearing any undergarments underneath.

“Oh my beautiful wife, how lucky am I to have someone like you...” he trailed off, gazing at your center with wanton desire.

“I’m just as lucky, if not more so,” you smiled, tugging on his ashy locks, earning you a warning grunt in response.

“A husband who neglects his wife for months on end? Surely you jest with me,” he chuckled sadly.

“You are more than attentive. Sometimes smothering, but never neglectful. Jimin listening to the palace physician isn’t wrong. He just happens to think he knows everything while Father Jin has had actual experience with pregnancy and birth. By the way, he will be delivering our child, not that ridiculous palace physician. I’d rather not have him near me when I’m giving birth,” you huffed, pouting slightly.

“Oh? I see, who else did you want there while you deliver? I know I should’ve asked this but-”

“You, Father Jin to deliver and Jungkook as well as Taehyung. Yoongi and Namjoon, and... Hoseok,” you said pondering for a moment.

“Those are all men, Y/N,” Jimin reminded, pouting from above you.

“And? Hoseok is our Godfather for the child, I believe he should be there. Jungkook is good in a crisis and also has knowledge of pregnancy and birth from his mother. Taehyung is such a dear friend, I certainly want him there. Yoongi is always calm and collected, and Namjoon would just feel left out if I didn’t include him!”

“You missed one,” he frowned.

“Of course I want you there silly. It’s your fault I’m like this, so you’re going to be there for the whole thing, no stepping out and no leaving me, understood?” You asked, raising a brow at him. Jimin just nodded.

“It’s not just my fault you’re like this, I don’t ever recall you saying no,” he snarked.

“I’m also not saying no now, if we could get back on track?” You asked, bringing his hand to your throbbing center. Jimin seemed to get the message as he rubbed his fingers along your slit, collecting your slick between the pads of his fingers and your skin.

“My love, so ready for me,” he murmured, coming in closer to kiss your neck. You let out a sigh of pleasure, running your hands down his back, scratching along the skin gently, causing goosebumps to rise in your wake. He groaned as you gripped his ass in your palms, causing him to rut forward like a pup in heat. You smirked at his enthusiasm, squeezing once more before he whined against your skin.

“Oh!” You gasped as he entered one finger inside your tight heat. A soft groan came from his cherry red lips, causing you to clamp down on the digit inside of you. Jimin moved his finger gently, stretching your hole out carefully. Everything he did, he did with purpose. It made your heart stammer in your chest as you could feel another finger slipping in next to the first one.

“So tight,” he growled, pumping in and out of you with a delicious tempo that had your hips grinding down against his hand. “You’re soaking the bed my darling.”

“I-I can’t help it, you feel too good,” you moaned.

“Mm, you sure I can’t have a taste? Just a little bit wouldn’t hurt,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. You wanted so badly to encourage his devilish mouth, but you gripped his wrist and forced him to stop moving those dangerous fingers inside of you.

He looked worried for a moment. But you smoothed your thumb over his brow.

“I can’t wait any more, please don’t make me wait,” you whined, humping against his fingers. “Give it to me, please. Fill me up.”

Jimin’s eyes turned dark as he pulled his hand away from your center. Watching with rapt attention you saw him take his sticky digits and put them in his mouth, sucking lewdly on your arousal. Jimin made a show of it. Licking and sucking on his fingers, trying to get every last drop of your essence off of his fingers. He was also proving that he could pleasure you with his mouth if you’d only let him.

“You want my cock? Want it so bad huh? My beautiful Queen, you want it? Huh? Tell me why I should give it to you?” He said, eyes glazing over as you presented yourself on all fours for him.

“Because, I’ve been so good for you. I’m carrying your baby, so pregnant and full, but not full enough. I need more, more of your cum Jimin. Want more of it leaking from me, please, remind me how you got me pregnant. Please, won’t you give me your cock? Your cum? Please, I want it so badly,” you pleaded.

Jimin’s eyes darkened further. He knew you were good at begging, it was one of his favorite things to teach you, because you learned so quickly what he liked. And he would never be able to deny such an earnest request.

“If that’s what you want my love, then you’ll have it. Have me,” he agreed, moving off the bed to push his pants and underwear to the ground before coming back to the bed. You felt his presence behind you, smoothing over your back gently. “Is this position okay? Or do you need something different?” He asked, kissing your shoulder.

“This is okay, I’m comfortable,” you encouraged. “Now, fuck me.”

Jimin needed no further words as he sank into you slowly for the first time in months. The pair of you breathed out heavy sighs as you finally felt the fullness you’d been craving for weeks. Jimin choked on a moan when you flexed your walls around him, making him buck into you a little harsher than expected.

“Sorry! I haven’t-Since we haven’t been doing anything I haven’t even pleasured myself, I haven’t had the time, you feel so good around me, fuck,” he moaned out, gripping your hips firmly.

“It’s okay, I won’t last long. I’ve missed you so much,” you moaned, your fists tightening in the bed sheets beneath you.

“Oh shit,” he growled, bucking into you again, building a steady rhythm that had your chest jolting almost painfully. Your core was soaking, and Jimin wasn’t letting up. He was fucking into you so hard some of your arousal was falling down your thighs.

“Jimin, harder,” you pleaded, head falling into the mattress. Your husband didn’t have to be told twice as he started rutting into your wet heat with vigor.

“I’ve been thinking about this everyday since you told me you were pregnant,” he snarled, pulling all the way out just to force himself back in once more. You cried out when his fingers found your clit, causing you to grind back against him. The air rushed from his lungs as he watched you practically use him for your own pleasure.

“Everyday? Then why didn’t you do anything?” You whined, bouncing back against him harshly. Jimin swallowed hard as he tried to stave off his looming orgasm.

“Because the physician... I was worried I’d hurt you or the baby, like I said earlier. But now that I know this is safe, don’t expect to be able to walk for a while,” he warned, pulling on your sensitive nipples gingerly. You cried out into the mattress when milk started to leak down Jimin’s hand. He watched as the pearly white substance soaked the sheets beneath you like your arousal had earlier.

“Fuck! Jimin, keep going please!” You begged when he got distracted by your chest practically flooding the bed.

“Have you not been expressing the milk? Doesn’t it hurt?” He asked.

“Yes, it aches so much during the day and I’m so sensitive when I try to sleep. Sometimes I wake up and my nightdress is soaked from milk,” you whined, trying to reach for him so he would keep pounding into you.

“Mm, since I didn’t get to have a taste of your pussy... Maybe you’ll let me have something else instead,” he teased, licking the milk off of his hands and groaning when it hit his tastebuds.

“More, please more!” You begged. Jimin noticed your frantic bouncing and eased you into a spooning position. He was still throbbing inside of you, but you could feel his head come to your shoulder, placing soft kisses against it.

“Let me drink from you, it must hurt my darling. So full and heavy with milk for our child, but they can share, surely?” He teased, kissing the side of your breast while giving shallow thrusts to your womanhood.

“You can have it, whatever you want as long as you keep fucking me. Please, Jimin, I’m so close,” you whimpered. Sensing your urgency Jimin started his brutal pace back up. You cried out in bliss when his mouth met your sensitive nipple. Jimin gently suckled at your chest, causing more milk to enter his mouth.

He groaned at the flavor and gave a few sharp ruts into your clenching pussy. You were besides yourself with pleasure, almost in tears at all the stimulation.

Jimin wasn’t doing much better. Five months without even masturbating was proving to be his end far too quickly.

“Y/N, I’m going to cum. Are you close?” He asked, reaching down to push at your clit gently.

“Yes! Right there, pleasepleaseplease! Jimin,” you cried. Your walls tightened beyond belief, causing Jimin to freeze in his thrusting. He watched your face as you fell apart for him, causing him to reach his end as well. A cry of your name on his lips as ropes of hot cum painted your walls milky white. Jimin shuddered in overstimulation as you continued to clench yourself around his spent cock.

The pair of you lay there, clutching each other in the afterglow as you tried to catch your breath. Jimin decided to move first, pulling his still twitching length from your abused center. You watched as he stood on wobbly legs and came back with a towel to clean you up with. A soft smile took over your features as you spread your legs easily for him.

After he was satisfied, you opened your arms for him. Jimin moved forward without hesitation, wrapping your exhausted body with his own. He kissed the top of your head, then around your jaw and finally a firm kiss was placed on your lips.

“I love you so much my darling,” he smiled, resting his head on the pillow.

“I love you too, we both do.”

—

You’d never thought that giving birth would be a pleasant experience.

But never in your entire life did you imagine it would hurt this much.

The contractions had started early in the morning. Making you wake Jimin with a frantic push.

“My love what is it?” He asked, sitting up in the bed with a bewildered look on his face.

“Get Father Jin right now,” you demanded, leaning forward to hold your severely swollen stomach. Jimin was out of bed and quickly called the guards to get the Priest from his room as fast as possible.

They yelled back their confirmation before they hurried off. You felt the distinct cramping from your groin and moaned low in pain. Jimin came back over to you, looking at you with worry etched onto his features.

“Do you want anything? Anyone? I’ll call for whatever you need,” he said, taking your shaking hands in his.

“Good morning,” you whispered, giving him a weak smile.

“Good morning,” he smiled back, kissing your knuckles gently.

Soon you were in a different room entirely, getting settled into the blankets and all the people close to you had been summoned.

Jungkook and Taehyung had gotten there first, both excited and ready for the proceedings.

“Lady Y/N! It’s really happening? Oh my gosh! I’m so excited for you,” Jungkook said, coming over to place a gentle kiss on your hand out of respect.

“Thank you Jungkook, how is training the new recruits going?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from the pain.

“Oh that’s all boring! We don’t want to hear about that!” Taehyung said, coming next to you and also kissing your hand.

“Maybe she does my Lord,” Jungkook sneered. You knew the two of them had always had a friendly competition going on. But, right now you shushed them and told them to go sit down.

Hoseok and Namjoon were next, coming in shortly after Taehyung and Jungkook.

“My lady,” Namjoon said, taking to his knee in front of you.

“There’s no need for that right now, Namjoon. How are you? We haven’t had tea in a while, and I fear if this babe comes now we might not for a long while yet,” you teased and Namjoon just smiled as he stood up.

“We can sneak some tea in soon my Lady, leave the child with the King to see how he fares,” he smirked. Jimin was pouting. You knew it without even looking at him.

“I might have to do that,” you smiled. Hoseok came over quickly after, kissing your hand a few times before looking at you with excitement.

“Is there anything you want? Anything you need? I know you’re not supposed to eat anything right now but maybe some water?” He asked.

“It’s so sweet of you to offer, but right now I’m just tired and a little cranky,” you laughed, trying to keep yourself in good spirits.

Hoseok seemed to understand, giving your hand a soft squeeze before walking over to talk with Namjoon and Jungkook.

“Where’s Yoongi? And Father Jin?” You asked, looking around.

“We’re here!” Father Jin said, a bright smile on his face as he escorted a grumpy looking Yoongi through the doorway.

“Yeah, here,” Yoongi said, yawning and scowling at the older man.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” you whispered, reaching out for the stoic man. His resolve quickly melted as he came by and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

“I’m sure you’d rather be sleeping now too, but I’m fine. Are you alright?” He asked, looking at you with an intensity you always forgot he possessed.

“Yes, just some contractions right now. My water hasn’t broken yet,” you said. Yoongi nodded and looked at Jimin with a soft smile.

“How are you faring, feeling okay?” He asked, looking at the father to be with kind eyes.

“Nervous, but happy,” he confirmed, taking your hand in his.

“Wonderful,” he yawned, going to sit down and hopefully doze off while you were still in the early stages.

Father Jin gathered everyone up and they all listened attentively to whatever he had to say. The day progressed and your water hadn’t broken yet, but the men all stayed, asking if there was anything you needed, holding your hand if you felt a particularly rough contraction.

But most importantly, Jimin was right by your side the whole time.

When your water did finally break, it was like hell also had broken loose.

It was later, probably afternoon when you felt it happen.

Father Jin was suddenly on his feet demanding towels and hot water for you, as well as some herbs that would help numb the pain as much as they could. Jimin looked panic stricken when you clutched onto his hand.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, brushing your hair away from your face.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, another wave of pain crashing through you without remorse.

“I’m scared too,” he confessed. “But I know you can do it. You’re already the perfect wife, now you’re going to be the perfect mother... Our child is almost here,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“Jungkook, Lord Taehyung each of you grab a leg and hold them please,” Father Jin said as he sat in front of you. Both men looked shocked at the idea, but you and Jimin both nodded, giving them permission.

Jungkook gently placed his hands on your calf and pushed your leg back holding it in position for you. Taehyung did the same, each of them keeping their eyes respectful.

“Why do we have to hold her legs?” Taehyung asked, looking at Jungkook.

“Gives her more leverage and relieves some of the pressure on her back,” Jungkook answered.

“The only problem is it can close off the birthing canal at an awkward angle, but for now this is the best position to give her a break,” Father Jin said.

When you started pushing, you felt your lower back ache with how much strain you were under. Jimin could only watch as you cried out in pain when Father Jin urged you to keep going.

Everyone in the room was tense with worry.

Your health had always been fragile, even after coming back from the dead you still fell sick easily and had trouble with your lungs. But Father Jin was focused on the baby, while Jimin was focused on you.

“I never expected it to hurt this much,” Namjoon whispered, watching on in horror as his Queen and dear friend struggled to keep conscious through the pain.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” you wailed. Hoseok was quick to grab a bucket that was formerly filled with water and held it as you threw up. Jimin smoothed his hands down your back, trying to keep himself from crying. Jungkook and Taehyung had given you a break with your legs so you could turn as you emptied your stomach.

“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, kissing your shoulder gently.

“Sit back straight, Y/N, you need to keep pushing,” Father Jin said. You were delirious with pain and exhaustion. You needed something to keep you grounded. The one thing you knew would always keep you grounded.

“My love, talk to me, just keep talking to me,” you pleaded, voice hoarse with how much you’d been crying.

“Y/N, it’s alright,” Jimin soothed, kissing your sweaty forehead with worry. “They’re almost here, we’re so close to meeting our baby. We’re so close to being a family.”

“Alright your Majesty another big push on the count of three, one... two... three!” Father Jin said, you pushed hard and felt nothing but sheer agony as the child started crowning.

“I can see the head!” Hoseok said, standing behind Father Jin, now hanging onto Yoongi tightly.

“Oh my God,” you cried, head falling back on the pillows.

“Keep pushing Y/N!” Father Jin said, preparing a cloth.

“I can’t, I really can’t, I’ll die if I keep going please,” you stammered. Taehyung and Jungkook shared an anxious look. Namjoon looked at you with fear written all over his features.

“My love, look at me,” Jimin said softly, bringing your eyes to his.

“It hurts, I can’t... Please don’t make me, ah!” You cried out as you felt another contraction.

“Y/N you need to push! Hard as you can,” Father Jin said, looking at your situation.

“Keep going Lady Y/N,” Jungkook said, looking up to your weary face. He’d seen several women give birth in his village, his mother being a midwife. But, to see someone he cared about going through this was difficult.

“You’ll be alright, you will. But if you stop pushing you’re putting you and the baby in danger,” Father Jin warned.

“How much longer?” You cried, giving another hard push.

“You’re so close,” Yoongi said, watching you with concern.

“You’re doing great!” Taehyung chirped, watching on in amazement.

He couldn’t wait to have his own family...

“The head is almost out, come on Y/N, keep going,” Father Jin said.

“Jimin,” you whimpered, clutching his hand as you gave the hardest push yet.

“I love you so much, keep going Y/N, I love you,” he whispered into your ear. You pushed again and finally, finally there was some relief.

“Oh my God!” Hoseok yelped, gripping onto Yoongi’s arm so tight he was certain that he was going to break his limb.

“You’re going to rip my arm off! Father Jin is a little busy right now!” Yoongi growled.

“Can you give me one more push? Just one more,” Jimin asked, kissing your shoulder. Looking at him with tears in your eyes you nodded, giving another strong push before soft cries filled the room.

“It’s a boy!”

“A prince!”

“Congratulations your majesties!”

You slumped back onto the bed, breathing heavily when a small bundle was placed on your chest. Looking down you saw your son, wiped off haphazardly and clutching your nightdress tightly.

“Oh Y/N,” Jimin whispered, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“He’s so handsome!” Hoseok cooed, looking on at you and Jimin both. Father Jin had you push a few more times to deliver the afterbirth, but nothing was as intense as giving birth to your son.

“Ji...min...” you breathed, eyes growing heavy.

“Can she rest Father?” Taehyung asked, looking at the little prince attached to his mother with tear filled eyes.

“Not yet, Y/N, stay awake,” Father Jin warned.

“Why...?” You asked, slowly taking in deep breaths.

“I need to check you and the baby over, and he needs to feed,” Father Jin said softly, cleaning you up still. Your eyes were still heavy, but you heard your baby crying softly on your chest.

Instinctively you shushed him, bringing him to your chest so he could latch on. After a little struggle, he was feeding eagerly. You brushed his hair gently, watching with sleepy eyes as he ate his fill.

Father Jin came over, congratulating you on a wonderful delivery. He did tell you everything you needed to do for the coming days, encouraging you to stay in bed and keep the baby close to form a relationship. He also told Jimin to take the baby and have time as well.

“It’s important that you two stay together for this coming week, I’ll make sure that the advisors and everyone just leaves you alone unless it is absolutely life or death,” Father Jin said, looking at your babe with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

“What’s the baby’s name? Hmm? What do we call our new prince?” Namjoon asked, raising a brow.

“Jihoon?” You asked, looking at Jimin for confirmation.

“It’s perfect,” Jimin agreed, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“Prince Jihoon, I’ll let the advisors and everyone know,” Taehyung said, running into the hall.

“Lord Taehyung! Just hang on a second!” Namjoon yelled, chasing after the excited noble.

“We’d better go and make sure they don’t get into any trouble,” Yoongi said to Jungkook, patting his shoulder before guiding the younger male out the door.

“As much as I’d love to spend time with my Godchild, I have to make sure that my brother and friends don’t cause a scene,” Hoseok said. He came up and gave your hand a gentle kiss. “Congratulations Lady Y/N, I’m truly happy for you.”

With that he left the room, followed shortly by Father Jin.

You and Jimin were alone with your baby, the soft sound of his gurgles filling the room. Jimin looked down at you, eyes watery as he kissed your child’s head. You brushed the tears away from his face, even though exhaustion was flooding your aching body, you wanted to make sure he was okay too. He had also been through a lot today.

“I love you,” you said, watching as more tears fell from his eyes.

“I love you too, both of you... So much,” he whimpered. “That was the most beautiful and heartbreaking thing I’ve ever had to experience.”

“Heartbreaking?” You wondered out loud.

“To see you in so much pain, and there was nothing I could do about it,” he said, looking at your child, hands shaking.

“It’s alright, I’m okay now,” you said, holding his hand in your clammy one. Jimin pressed a delicate kiss to your wrist, looking up at you with so much love and adoration.

“I’m sorry you hurt so much, if I could take your pain I would,” he said, brushing your hair back.

“Doesn’t hurt anymore,” you mumbled, eyes closing slowly. “Just tired now...”

“Sleep my love, we’ll be here when you wake up.”

And they were.

And they always would be.

Forever.

[yesttoheaven]

I SEE YOU – chapter IV

pairing – arthur fleck x female!reader

wc – 2.3k

warnings – idk... misty being a b*tch with arthur?

a/n – hi everyone! I hope you are well because I'm brazilian and I cannot say the same lol the president is a piece of shit and he can't rule the country in the middle of a pandemic (not even without the pandemic, in fact)

anyway enjoy the chapter!

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

chapter one. chapter two.

chapter three. chapter four.

"What are you doing here, Misty?" The surprise was notable in Y/N's words.

Many people could walk through that door, but Misty was definitely not one of them.

"I should ask you the same question..." The woman came over and put her hands on the actress' shoulders, smiling amiably. "But we don't have time for that right now. You have a dinner to go! And it is not right to keep a man like Charles waiting."

"Charles?" Arthur asked, trying to find a way to join the conversation. "Is he also an actor?"

After these simple words, the redhead burst out laughing and Arthur didn't understand what he had done wrong this time. He was just curious and a little interested to know who was the man who had a date with Y/N that night.

"Actor? God, have you never heard of Charles Lewis Tiffany?" Misty questioned how if the fact that Arthur didn’t know the man was an offense to humanity and Arthur just shook his head, too embarrassed to say anything else.

Who the hell was this man? The Pope? And why did Y/N have a dinner with Pope?

"It's okay, Arthur." Always so graceful, the actress reassured him and left Misty's side to be close to him. "Charles owns Tiffany & Co., the one that appears in the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's... Have you watched this movie before?"

"Oh, oftentimes!"

"Me either! And now Charles wants me to be the face of his new collection! I'm so excited, he came to Gotham just to follow it up in person!" The happiness shining in her eyes was contagious, but Misty didn’t like seeing Y/N squeeze the man’s arm gently.

"I hate to have to do this... the conversation is so pleasant, but we have to go, mon cher." With a smile, Y/N's manager adjusted the bag on her shoulder. She wanted to take the actress away from this freak as soon as possible.

"You cannot go without the VHS tape." Arthur objected, receiving a death glare from Misty, but the only thing that mattered to him was Y/N. "I'll get this for you." After these words, the man left the living room with a reason to make her stay a little longer in his apartment.

"Well, I think we're going to have to wait." Y/N shrugged, but inside she was beaming.

Feeling her mouth dry, she picked up the glass of water on the table, but that was her worst mistake.

"What are you doing? Don't drink this! That dirty glass is full of germs!" The glass was snatched from her hand and Y/N looked at Misty in disbelief.

"That glass is not dirty, Misty."

"How can you be sure of that? I heard that the Narrows sewer is one of the worst in Gotham!"

"Thanks for the lesson, but that didn’t come from the Narrows sewer. This water is from the kitchen tap."

"Oh my God..." The actress could have sworn that the woman's face turned green and she would vomit at any moment. "Why did you drink this? You'll be sick!"

Before Y/N had a chance to respond to these insanities, someone called her. She ran over to the bag and took out her cell phone. It was Charles.

"Hey, Charles! It's good to talk to you." On the other side, all she received were strange noises. The man's voice was being cut off and it was difficult to understand. "The connection is awful..."

"Why am I not surprised? Narrows is the end of the world!" Misty commented, rolling her eyes.

Without time for this discussion, Y/N said:

"Maybe in the corridor I will get a better signal."

"Be careful, you don't know what kind of neighbors there are in this place." She warned, listening to the door open and close, but Y/N said nothing.

Alone in the living room, Misty had the same disgusted look as when she arrived. For her this apartment is small even for an ant and this wallpaper is ridiculous, but in the midst of so much poverty, something on the couch attracted her attention.

"What do we have right here? I don't believe he has a diary..." The woman whispers to herself, laughing, after picking up Arthur's journal. She knew it was wrong, but she was bored.

The first few pages were OK, he had a shitty life like any other unfortunate person, but what came next scared the hell out of her. Misty knew there was something wrong with this man. The instant she saw him, she knew, but that... those words... were from a sick person. Arthur was a disgusting pervert. The redhead needed a moment to breathe and then she saw the magazines on the table and an scissors...

Oh no. He intends to include Y/N in this depravity show!

"I finally found." With bright eyes, Arthur looked for Y/N in the living room, but all he found was Misty... and his journal. "W-What... What are you d-doing?"

"Stay away from me!" She exclaimed, backing away for fear that he would do something against her. "I swear, if you get close I'll scream so loud and when Y/N comes through that door, I will tell her your little secret. She will be so disappointed, but she will finally find out who you really are... A perv!"

"N-No, please... You got it wrong." He tried, his voice taking on a desperate tone. Arthur didn't want to lose the actress's friendship. She was too important for him. "I c-can explain."

"Oh, can you explain? You will glue Y/N's head to a cat's body and then you will sit on that old sofa and touch yourself? You should be in Arkham! You're a sick person! I can't believe Y/N was alone with you..."

Arthur felt his stomach churning.

"You're wrong... I have a lot of respect for her. Y/N is special to me and I would never do something like that."

"I don't want to hear your excuses!" The woman threw the journal at him and Arthur cringed like a frightened dog. After hitting him on the back, the journal fell to the floor and when he saw those collages, he felt ashamed of himself. "Listen to me... I will say this only once: Stay away from her. It doesn’t matter what kind of fantasies you’ve created in your sick head, Y/N will not be a part of that. If I know that after today you keep talking to her, I'll call the police and when they find out you're a fucking perv, you will spend the rest of your days in Arkham." She warned with all the letters and threats, now it was up to him to choose to cooperate or not. This man is too old to play being a teenager. These images of naked women, these cats and those sad quotes in his journal prove just one thing. Maybe he's a sexual predator, but Misty wouldn't be here to find that out either. "Enjoy your pornography and leave Y/N alone. I hope I never see you again."

Arthur saw his world fall apart as soon as the redhead left his apartment with the worst assumptions about him. He was not a perverted monster. He would never touch Y/N without her consent and would never endanger her life. Never ever. Y/N was the only good thing about Gotham; she was a light at the end of the tunnel. So angelic and peaceful. Whenever she smiles, butterflies appear in his stomach and Arthur knows what these famous butterflies mean, but he doesn't know what those collages mean... If Y/N knew, she would probably be afraid of him.

In the corridor, the actress was trapped in a bubble, talking animatedly with Charles. The call had no specific reason, the man just wanted to make sure everything was fine for dinner that night.

"Okay... This is one of Gotham's best restaurants. Trust me, you will love the place!" She assured him, intending to make a good impression. It wasn't every day that she got a chance to dine with the genius behind Tiffany & Co. and represent that brand. This was an important step in her career. "Now I need to go, Charles. See you soon, bye!" Y/N hummed the ending, watching Misty approach where she was. "Why are you here?"

"It's just your friend's mom. She's not feeling very well..."

"Isn't Penny okay?" Concern crossed Y/N's face and she tried to get back to apartment 8J, but Misty took her arm, lying again:

"Y/N, don't be indiscreet. This is a family problem and Arthur is taking care of it." With those words, she guided the actress to the elevator, but Y/N kept looking at the door to Arthur's apartment. "You need to prepare for dinner... I chose a beautiful dress for you."

...

THREE DAYS LATER

"Put red on her lips... Don't forget the mascara... and on the cheeks use this blush... Not this one! The peach blush!"

It was possible to say that Charles Lewis Tiffany was taking the place of the makeup artist. The woman was losing patience, Y/N realized this, but he wanted to participate in every second of it. When she finished, Charles smiled, admiring Y/N's beauty through the mirror.

"You see? You're genuinely beautiful... I think I finally found my muse." The actress was flattered by the compliments and that reflected in her smile when Charles took a blue box, but this was not a simple blue box. This is the famous Tiffany Blue Box. "I want you to meet my new creation..." He opened the box, stealing Y/N's breath instantly. "Dramatically plunging down the decolletage, an incredible emerald-cut bicolor zoisite that shifts from violet-blue to purplish-red, depending on the angle. The pendant is over 48 carats and it's wrapped in a halo of baguette diamonds and suspended from a diamond rondelle chain of over 37 total carats."

"Oh Charles, this is absolutely beautiful. I'm speechless..." She confessed, watching him take the necklace and offer to put it around her neck. Y/N accepted immediately and when the pendant touched the white fabric of the dress, she smiled at the mirror.

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend" Charles whispered, eliciting a giggle from her. "Now I need to speak to the photographer, but take a few minutes to prepare yourself." The man smiled one last time and Y/N walked to the door, opening it for him. She took the opportunity to spy on what was happening on the other side and it was possible to say that there was a little sadness in her eyes.

"What are you looking for?" Misty's voice echoed and she closed the door quickly.

"Huh... nothing!"

The woman was checking the contract – something about image authorization – and when she took her eyes off the papers, she found Y/N with a half-hearted smile.

"Go ahead... Spill the tea."

Brian was probably smoking, so Misty was her only option.

"Arthur was busy these days, but he called me this morning... He looked nervous and said he would like to talk to me, so I invited him to accompany the photoshoot, but..."

"You did what?!" Misty left the chair, interrupting her. Not wanting to start a scene, the redhead looked at Dariela, the makeup artist, and said: "Get out." The woman immediately stopped organizing her makeup and ran out of the dressing room.

"Was that necessary?" Y/N asked, crossing her arms.

"And was it necessary to invite that maniac to come here too?"

"Jesus, Misty!" She walked to the other side of the dressing room. "Manic? Really?"

"I'm just telling the truth."

"Based on what? His bank account?"

"Based on his journal." Misty replied and the actress looked in her direction with a frown. Shaking her head, the redhead let out a bitter laugh before confessing: "He doesn't use it just to write jokes... I found a lot of pornography on those pages."

Y/N felt a little uncomfortable with that. Certain things do not need to be exposed... She didn't need to know about that part of Arthur's life and Misty just invaded his privacy.

"Well... many men consume pornography daily."

"Y/N, pornography is not the point here. He makes some weird collages... women with cat heads... skulls... one of these women was tied up in a compromising position... Can you see how problematic this is?" Misty was trying to open her eyes and consequently was scaring the actress, but that was not all. "I saw the magazines. That man will probably do the same to you... your face on the body of these naked women or on a cat's body! You have always been uncomfortable with the way men see you only as a sex symbol... and now Arthur is using you as a sex toy!"

"Stop! Just stop, okay?" Y/N demanded, using an edgy tone of voice. That was too much for her to assimilate. "You're saying this because you do not accept the idea of ​​Arthur being my friend! All that matters to you is status, but it doesn't matter to me! When are you going to let me live my own life?"

"This is not about social classes, this man is a pervert! I'm trying to protect you!"

"Enough, Misty!" That was enough to make the redhead shut up and Y/N found her way back to the mirror.

To complete the look, inside the blue box was a beautiful diamond ring and a pair of shiny round diamond earrings, just waiting for her. Putting on the ring was an easy task, but she couldn’t say the same about earrings; her hands were shaking and this is all the fault of the stress.

"Let me help you." The manager approached and at first Y/N refused her help, but after another failed attempt, she handed the earrings to the woman. "I know I can be a bitch sometimes..."

"Sometimes?"

Misty just sighed, shaking her head.

~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~~

a/n – likes and reblogs are appreciated but honestly I’d love to know what you all think of this one. really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ♡

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Death Cannot Stop True Love

Summary: After being kidnapped from his kidnapper by the Dread Pirate Roberts, Blaine reminisces on the poor farmboy who once held his heart.

The Princess Bride AU, one shot, 1.7k words

A/N: did i work on ANY of my wips this weekend? no <3

BUT DID I WATCH THE PRINCESS BRIDE TWICE AND THEN SUBSEQUENTLY WRITE THIS? YOu BET YOUR ASS I DID

I've never really written anything like this??? But I surprisingly had a lot of fun with it, so let me know what you think! :D

Read on Ao3

*** 

Blaine’s hands land a bit too roughly against the grey granite for his taste, rather put off by the masked stanger’s manhandling.

He supposes being kidnapped by Willaim Schuester, then having the Dread Pirate Roberts kidnap him from his kidnapper wasn’t quite the delightful way he’d expected to end his evening ride, either.

“Rest, your Highness,” the man in black commands, the strands of tattered fabric that secure his mask tied behind his head billowing in the wind. Blaine refuses to shiver at the cool air of the highland whipping across his face, not wanting to show this man any signs of weakness. “You’re going to need it.”

“You’re the one who’s going to need rest,” Blaine spits, turning to face the man and take a proper seat on the stone. “My betrothed will come for me. Prince Smythe is an excellent tracker. He could track a falcon on a cloudy day, and he and his infantry will have me back in the castle and you in shackles by dusk.”

He should not make such bold claims at a time like this, and certainly not to someone as deadly as the Dread Pirate Roberts. Well, Blaine is only mostly sure he’s speaking to the infamous Pirate known for his murderous voyages on his ship, “Revenge”, but he’s certain enough.

“Ah, yes,” the man says bitterly back, fingers drumming ansty along the handle of his sheathed sword. “Prince Smythe. You have much faith in your most beloved, don’t you?”

Having his daily outing interrupted by that faux-philosopher Schuester from earlier and his two henchmen was unpleasant enough, but of all the things he’s heard come out of someone’s mouth this was the foulest. The law of the land gives Smythe the right to choose his spouse, and he chose Blaine. Despite this, Blaine knows he could never love Sebastian back. Now when he’s really known and lost his true love.

“I never said he was my most beloved,” Blaine snarls.

No. That title belongs to a name too precious to be uttered in front of the likes of a cheating, stealing, slaying pirate.

It’s been five long and lonely years since his dearest Kurt left him to venture out to sea, but Blaine can still feel Kurt’s hand in his sometimes, can still feel the residual warmth, as if it were yesterday. When he closes his eyes, it’s Kurt’s beautiful blue ones that are waiting for him when he falls asleep. Every round that his heart beats, it beats for the long dead Kurt Hummel.

Kurt had been Blaine’s family’s farm boy, and Blaine, in his infantile arrogance, loved nothing more than to boss him around. Whether it was “Farmboy, shine my saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning,” or “Farmboy, take these jugs down by the river to wash,” Kurt always responded with the same simple sentence that sent Blaine’s heart aflutter.

“As you wish.”

Blaine didn’t understand it at first—how could he, when he’d never been in love—the quickening of his pulse when he was near Kurt, how his knees seemed to careen and fail when hazel met piercing blue.

He didn’t understand why, when he’d asked Kurt to clean the stables, Kurt had looked at him with electricity in his eyes like a thunderstorm, and Blaine felt compelled to add a meek, “Please?” to the end of his request. He didn’t understand why when Kurt so softly answered him with those three little words— “As you wish” —Blaine would light like a lantern from the inside out.

He didn’t understand why he asked Kurt to fetch him a pitcher hanging right by his own head, just so he could be graced with having him in such close proximity, chest to chest.

“As you wish,” Kurt had said, and Blaine didn’t understand the magnetic force drawing them closer and closer.

And then Kurt’s lips were on his, and oh, how Blaine finally understood. He understood why wars were waged over Helen of Troy, and why lutists serenaded the public with foolish tunes of love that were actually the least foolish things in their nature.

He understood that every time Kurt said, “As you wish,” what he truly was saying was “I love you.”

He understood so clearly, and everything that wasn’t Kurt was reduced to complete and utter nonsense.

For a short year, they lived on borrowed time. Kurt’s family wasn’t from money, so he left the farm—and with it, Blaine—to seek wealth enough to ask for Blaine’s hand in marriage. It wasn’t long until the news came back to him that Kurt had encountered the Dread Pirate Roberts on the high seas.

There are three things Blaine knows to be true. Kurt Hummel was his one true love, death takes everyone and does not discriminate, and the Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners.

Kurt never returned to him after that.

“No, I suppose he’s not your one true love,” the Dread Pirate responds, unimpressed. “I wonder whether a royal-to-be like yourself has ever truly loved.”

“I’ve loved and been loved deeper than you will ever know!” Blaine counters. “He was stolen from me, his blood on your sword. I know who you are. You’re the Dread Pirate Roberts, admit it.”

The Dread Pirate gives a little flourish, his night black outfit a stark contrast to the verdant grass of the highlands. “With pride.”

“You killed my love.”

“Quite possible. I’ve killed many of noble blood aboard my ship.”

“You know nothing,” Blaine says. “He was poor. Poor and perfect and with eyes like the sea after a storm. I received notice that he’d crossed your path on the high seas, and as we all know, you never take prisoners.”

Roberts shrugs, displaying such upsetting nonchalance at Kurt’s demise. “Can’t afford to make any exceptions. Once word leaks out that a pirate has gone soft, people begin to disobey you, and then it's nothing but work, work, work, all the time.”

Being held hostage by Schuester while the Dread Pirate fought off Michael Chang, one of the best swordsman ever to walk the earth, was nerve wracking. Hearing how he then proceeded to physically conquer who is probably the tallest man Blaine has ever seen, and then listening as he sat blindfolded to this man outwit William into drinking from a poisoned cup was a hellish enough adventure on its own, but it was not as dreadful as hearing his anguish ridiculed by this stranger.

“You mock my pain!”

“Life is pain, Highness.” The pirate gives Blaine a look that he would consider hurt, if he did not hate him so. “Anyone who says different is selling something… I think I remember this farmboy of yours. This would be about what, five years ago?”

Five years, three months, and sixteen days, Blaine refuses to say. His silence doesn’t deter Roberts from continuing.

“He died well, if it pleases you to hear that much.”

“With all due respect—which is little to none—nothing you can say will please me. Likewise, nothing you can say will harm me.”

“He made no attempts at either bribery or blubbering. He simply said Please. I need to live. It was the please that caught my attention. I need to live for him.” The pirate’s eyes grow misty and distant and so painfully reminiscent of his love’s that Blaine is forced to look away for a moment. “He spoke of a boy so lovely, and of enduring faithfulness. Sad to see he died for nothing. Tell me, Highness, when you heard news of his death, did you immediately become engaged, or did you wait a week out of respect for the dead?”

“Had I a choice in this matter I would join him among the realm of the dead!” Blaine yells back, surprised to see a bit of shock in the thief’s eyes. “You mocked my pain once, do not do it again. I died that day!”

The unmistakable sound of hooves pounding into the ground of the hillside opposite them causes Blaine to sigh in relief. He never thought he would be so elated to see his fiance. Still... elated may be too strong of a word.

The Dread Pirate turns to scout the incoming commotion, and Blaine acts before he has time to second guess himself.

“And you can die, too, for all I care,” he grits out, and shoves hard on the Dread Pirate’s back, sending the murderer tumbling down the hillside.

Blaine’s expecting to hear shouts of terror coming from the pirate, but what he hears next makes his stomach pool with dread.

“Aaaaaas yoooouuuuu wiiiiiiish!” echoes through the hillside, coming from the Dread Pirate Roberts and Blaine’s jaw drops.

“Kurt,” he gasps. “Oh God, what have I done?”

“Over there!” he hears Sebastian’s familiar and grating voice call out from just beyond the hillside. One glance behind his shoulder and Blaine knows they will come for him, and when they do, he will never see Kurt again.

So he jumps forward and follows Kurt rolling down along the slope of the hill.

Small rocks and flowers swirl past him in a blur, dirt kicked up every time his boots collide with the ground, and after falling for what feels like ages, his body finally comes to a halt, right next to Kurt’s warm one.

Blaine shifts to see Kurt better, body bruised from the fall, but soul absolutely jubilant.

Kurt scrambles over to him, black mask having been knocked off in the tumble. “Are you alright? Can you stand?”

Blaine laughs and reaches out to grab Kurt’s— Kurt’s —hand on top of his chest. as if to keep them physically tethered this time. “Stand? You’re alive. If you want, I could fly.” He buries his head deep into Kurt’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of him mixed with the grass and the dirt and the absolute joy of him being alive.

Kurt holds him back just as tight. “I told you I’d always come for you.”

“I thought you were dead.”

“My sweet Blaine,” Kurt murmurs, hand warm against Blaine’s cheek. “Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”

Blaine barely has time to smile before Kurt’s lips are on his again, back in their rightful place.

[mallowstep]

Does Feather ask Leopardstar for an apology in the Stone AU? And if she does, and Stone shuts her down, who tells Feather what happened? What exactly Tigerstar pushed both Stone and Leopard into? I mean...if I was Leopard in that position I'd bluntly ask Feather if she would like to go live with Greystripe in Thunderclan because yes, I was wrong, but I literally cannot deal. My body no longer feels like it's my own anymore--theres literally things inside of it-and...I'm sure grappling with the fact my best friend is the cause of it. Maybe she'd ask Storm if he'd like to go to Thunderclan too. I mean...I know Feather is hurt, I know she's upset, and I know I'd jo longer trust myself with her, Storm, Stone, or Misty's care, but I would give them the choice to leave for Thunderclan. Idk.

"Perhaps you'd be happier there," Leopardstar meows gently, "Stormpaw has been informing Stonefur of all the adventures you both had in Thunderclan after you three escaped. And I know Firestar would welcome you all back with open paws."

she does. she asks for an apology a little after she becomes a warrior. i don't have a super clear timeline for the au, so i can't say exactly when, but it's after leopardstar is visibly pregnant.

stonefur shuts it down ("you don't get to ask her for that," or something angry and in that vein), and she's very surprised. being right, deputy obligations, etc., aside, she doesn't understand why stonefur shuts her down. because from her perspective, whatever is going on between stonefur and leopardstar, he blames her too. he's angry at her too. so for him to shut her down, when she expected him as an ally? it's a shock.

i'm not sure who talks to feathertail about it. likely, she relays the story to mistyfoot (who spoke to mudfur after she comes to a conclusion about what happened, and wanted verification from him, and now has the truth), and mistyfoot fills her in.

we're going to cut now.

cw: sexual assault (by proxy), self victim-blaming

still not sure how to write a good cw for this; stonefur and leopardstar are threatened into having sex with each other.

i'm not sure exactly what mistyfoot says. she -- stonefur doesn't want to talk about it, but she feels like feathertail deserves at least some kind of context/explanation. but how does she do that? how does she say a little without saying everything? how does she explain stonefur's reaction without walking feathertail through every step of stonefur's life?

but she can't say nothing. feathertail is hurt and upset and justifiably so, and mistyfoot gets it. mistyfoot would also really like an apology from leopardstar. she doesn't expect one, but she feels she deserves (they all deserve) one.

how do you do all of that?

("we deserve more from her," feathertail says, pacing.

and mistyfoot sighs, because she knows feathertail is right. they do deserve more from her.

"we do," she agrees. "but..."

"but what?" feathertail hisses. "she made us warriors, so we should forget about it?"

"no." mistyfoot takes a deep breath. "we do, but now isn't the right time."

"what, because she's pregnant? should i wait until the kits are born, then? apprentices? warriors? never, then?"

"feathertail," mistyfoot snaps, "if you're going to interrupt me, don't bother asking."

"sorry." feathertail licks her paw. "but -- come on, mistyfoot. when is a good time to ask? we shouldn't have to ask."

"i know." mistyfoot's whiskers twitch. "feathertail, you understand -- leopardstar never wanted kits."

"so she changed her mind."

"she never wanted stonefur's kits, feathertail." mistyfoot meets feathertail's eyes, and she watches as the realization begins to piece itself together, crystallizing in feathertail's expression.

"he didn't--" feathertail chokes on her words, sounding horrified.

"no," mistyfoot cries. "no," she repeats, gentler. "i don't think either of them had a choice."

feathertail is silent for a moment.

"that's all well and terrible," she says, "and i'm not -- i don't mean to be callous, but that doesn't change what happened. and stonefur didn't need to..." she sighs. "he wasn't a part of it."

mistyfoot wraps her tail around her paws. "i think, when it comes to leopardstar, stonefur always thinks he's a part of it.")

well. mistyfoot may know stonefur well, well enough to even guess at his motivations, but. explaining that all to feathertail feels inappropriate.

after stonefur steps down as deputy, mistyfoot is able to push leopardstar, and she brings it up. that somehow, leopardstar needs to acknowledge what happened.

leopardstar isn't going to be that frank and forward with feathertail, but with mistyfoot?

("i can't," leopardstar snaps. "this isn't about what is or isn't right, mistyfoot. i can't."

mistyfoot's tail flicks against the ground. "it's not fair to them---" (to us, she adds silently) "--to expect them to move on, if you can't address it."

"what would you have me do, mistyfoot? i--"

"leopardstar?"

"i'm fine," she says. "but i can't do this. i'm -- i don't..." she sighs. "mistyfoot, i can't breathe without being reminded of what happened. i've born the consequences of my mistakes."

"that doesn't erase what happened. you can't--"

"i can't do what, mistyfoot? because i can't apologize. i can't stand there and say it's my fault and i did this and it was wrong. i can't -- i can't say that." she licks her chest. "because saying that -- it's all one mistake, mistyfoot. it's all one mistake, why everything happened. why feathertail is angry, why you are deputy, why stonefur--"

mistyfoot blinks softly. "that wasn't your fault, leopardstar."

"wasn't it? because i chose to ally with tigerstar, and i chose to tell stonefur not to kill them, and i chose to let tigerstar believe we were mates. i can't apologize.")

and when leopardstar is a few days from kitting, there's a gathering. she stays home. she's not sure if that's what she wants, but...she stays home. she's not sure she can walk there and back; she's not sure she can stand before the clans; she's not sure she can face blackstar.

stonefur stays with her.

and firestar is missing, too, so it's mistyfoot and greystripe and tallstar and blackstar. that's the gathering that greystripe reminds feathertail there's a place for her in thunderclan, if she wants it.

("what did greystripe want to talk to you about?"

feathertail is looking pointedly ahead. "he told me...he said if things weren't working out in riverclan, i could -- we could go back to thunderclan."

mistyfoot is silent until they get back to camp, and then she pulls feathertail somewhere quiet and secluded. "i've been meaning to talk to you about leopardstar."

"i got the message the first time," feathertail says. "not the time. whatever."

"not just that." mistyfoot takes a deep breath. "you know that i agree with you, about her. and for what it's worth, she agrees, too."

feathertail snorts. "would be nice to hear it from her."

"that's the thing. feathertail, i don't...want you to expect something you're not going to get. and if -- if you need an apology from leopardstar, i don't think you're going to get one."

feathertail shifts.

"you're saying -- i should take greystripe's offer."

"i'm saying if you need an apology to feel...okay in riverclan, then you should at least take it seriously.")

not sure what she does yet. in canon, feathertail stays in riverclan after she sees leopardstar...is it lose a life, or just risk one? for hawkpaw. she doesn't get an apology before that, and she hasn't been in riverclan that long. i think...she is reluctant to leave her brother behind. that's a strong motivation to stay, but not...it's not insurmountable.

hm. things to consider.

[ginkgomoon]

Victor’s Aura- A Character Aura Study

This post is my take on Victor’s aura, taken from my knowledge and intuition to depict what kind of aura he has! I did one on Gavin, as well as Gavin’s astrological birth chart so if you haven’t seen them, you can read them after this post!

What is an Aura? “Aura” by the dictionary is “the distinctive atmosphere or quality that seems to surround and be generated by a person, thing, or place”. 

It’s essentially the electromagnetic energy field that surrounds all living things. It’s the magnetic field of vibration like how a lighted candle is lit and how a scent or perfume surrounds a flower. In fact, it’s correctly described as an extension of the body. It’s a part of every cell. Your aura can be affected by anything, including traumas, memories and emotions. It can tell us a lot about a person’s mental, physical, emotional state, vitality and path of life. Habitual thoughts, emotions and even illnesses can be clearly revealed. If a person changes their long standing thoughts and emotions, the aura will too reflect that. 

Victor’s Aura There are many layers to the aura but let’s start off with the “ground” colour. This is the main colour that dominates the aura both in size and intensity. It’s arguably the most important colour as it shows what the person should be doing in their life. 

Victor’s main ground colour is dark yellow (keep in mind this is not defined as “murky”- when someone is lost and muddled in their life). People with dark yellow as their ground are confident, well adjusted and analytical. As a result, they take life one step at a time, one goal at a time, ensuring every project is seen through properly to completion to avoid problems and setbacks later. They are patient people, setting their worthwhile goals in no hurry to reach them, as they know without a doubt that they will obtain their deserved reward in the end. They prefer to do things rationally and in a logical manner, especially at work where they are required to make use of their good memory and love for detail. As they are ambitious and persistent, they often take up roles of leadership, responsibility and of importance. From his corrections on MC’s reports to the food he makes at Souvenir (that is insisted to be cooked according to certain temperatures), Victor is no doubt a detail-oriented leader even whether if the goal he wants to achieve is related to work or not. 

MC: It’s a sort of mark that can be left in literature or in a photograph… and I can feel it. Victor’s eyes are lowered. In his clear and tranquil eyes, there are ripples of light and shadows. Victor: Such as? The smile tugging at the corner of his mouth is clear, and I ponder this seriously. MC: For example, the way I write proposals has changed. The format of my proposals has changed. The indent of the first line, font size 15, 1.5 spacing between lines… it’s the format you find most pleasing to the eye! Victor’s eyebrow quirks. Victor: That’s all? MC: There’s more! I’ve become so much more picky with food. I never used to complain that food tastes bad, but eating at Souvenir has cultivated my palate. Now, when I eat even Michelin meals, I feel as if something’s lacking… -CN Exhibition Date 

“What happened with SE is just an example. We’re from different businesses and different fields. There’s no need to compare yourself with me. Also, I’m older than you. When you’ve reached my age, you might attain the achievements I have today.” -CN Night Meeting Date

“Slow and steady wins the race” is the moral that they live by, but sometimes adhering to this credo may frustrate others as they can be so analytical and detail oriented at times- usually at great lengths. A cute little add from the Tender Regards Date around the concept of snail mail, time (Victor’s evol!) and the goal of always reaching your destination in the end demonstrate this this motif in Victor’s relationship with MC.

“Looks like you should have received this Future Mail. Apart from supporting your event, I’m only going to do this once. This will not be repeated. The things I want to say to you are all in this videotape. It only belongs to you.” -CN Tender Regards Date 

“When will you finally understand? It’s all right. I’m patient. I’ll wait for you to see the light slowly.” -Rooftop Date

Although they have feelings, they only ever reveal it to people close to them. They enjoy the detail and technicality of conversations and find it hard to talk about their emotions. Victor’s Exhibition and Tender Regards Date are very useful sources of information in relation to these topics, as it displays Victor’s deep emotions of affection to MC and highlights the importance of expressing emotions to those you love. Dark yellow aura peoples’ greatest lesson in life is to be more emotionally open, and when do they do, it usually occurs later in life. 

“The writer wrote it down herself - “The time I spent loving someone, not a single second of it was wasted.” I rarely hear such words leave Victor’s mouth, and it makes me feel a little surreal. In my memory, we very rarely talk about the topic of ‘love’. Maybe it’s because he rarely says what’s in his heart. Maybe it’s because I’m used to being thick-skinned. We never have the opportunity to seriously understand the meaning in these words. -CN Exhibition Date 

“Do you still remember the special episode on “Feelings” from before? Actually, this theme was inspired by that episode. Giving gifts is a common way to express how one feels. But it’s not that easy to send a gift to the future. With Future Mail, the sender can convey their feelings and surprises in this gift to the other party across time.” -CN Tender Regards date 

People with dark yellow as their ground enjoy system and order such as routines at work and in their home life. This is applied to Victor’s strict schedules in his day to day life, such as taking on what time he sleeps and when he gets up to go on his morning jogs. They need to consider new ideas before grudgingly accepting them. This is especially applied to when Victor always says “just this once” to MC when he’s being “childish” with her (but we really know that isn’t the case, he knows this all too well, too). 

“Because a certain greedy cat always says she wants to eat something sweet after dinner, I made pudding before leaving the house. Do you think this is a mark of how I’ve been changed?” -CN Exhibition Date 

Next is Victor’s “radiating” colour. This represents his interests and motivations. It adds strength to the ground colour. They can work well in harmony, some can conflict. 

I would take Victor’s radiating as violet. Violet is a very highly spiritual colour, as people with this colour as their radiating will have a very spiritual take on life, as they are deep thinkers who like to analyse everything and think matters though logically. They are also naturally intuitive. Violet radiatings have the ability to come up with unique and unusual solutions to problems. As they enjoy learning, they have the potential to become experts in their field of endeavour- which is no surprise for Victor as he’s basically an “on top of the world tyrant” in the industry of finances. In addition, they feel things deeply, but rather operate things on an emotionally free level- again with the ground aura traits to enhance this! However, Victor too, has a high EQ despite this.

“I’m no different from you. There are many things I cannot do or force to make happen. It’s okay to not be strong, it’s okay to not do well. You don’t have to bottle up your emotions.” … “I won’t tell you to keep holding on no matter what difficulties you face. That isn’t realistic. There will come a time when you will become an even better version of yourself who will have enough courage and experience to deal with all of this.” -CN Colours of Rain Date 

Overall, Victor’s aura of darker yellow and violet depict him as more of a straightforward kind of person, hardworking and articulate, however soon we realise there’s more to what we see of Victor, like how MC thinks that Victor comes off as a “heartless CEO” throughout the main story chapters but he slowly warms up to her whilst determining to prove her wrong. Victor is wise, and doesn’t bother to put in his personal efforts to where it’s not needed, but when it’s up to him- he strives to go all the way for perfection and with the best of his ability. He spends a lot of time in deep contemplation to determine his plans of attack which allows him to execute them well. His values and worth ethics will always in the end allow him to make time for MC, no matter how busy he is :) 

And lastly…

Victor leans against the window, his face still written with distaste, but he does not attempt to remove that childish-looking blanket. He brings the red cup to his lips and gently blows on it. The warm light encases him, softening the aura surrounding him. His outline also appears gentler. He doesn’t look as impossible to get close to. My eyes land on Victor, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He puts down the cup in his hands, lowering his eyes, as though deep in thought. This is a Victor I have never seen before… In this moment, he seems to have put down his stubbornness and distant aura - becoming someone within reach. Only now does Victor finally feel my gaze. He raises his head to look at me. -CN Warm Date 

All of a sudden, he lifts his other hand gently. A water droplet pelts onto his palm, as though pulling him into the pattering rain. Seeing this, I find myself subconsciously frozen in place. Because of the enshrouding misty rain, the Victor before me appears warmer and more tender than usual. -CN Tender Regards Date 

It always has and always will be MC to see this side of him- the tenderness and the willingness of how he opens up to her- his aura willingly to embrace hers too. Fun fact- auras can deflect off one another if you’re with someone you dislike. But when it’s with two people in love, their auras connect, combine and produce an even brighter and bigger accommodating aura for the both of them. He’s certainly living working towards to achieve his greatest life goals- both in his businesses and being with MC, striving together to make great changes and milestones in their respective industries. Without a doubt, she has helped Victor’s aura grow, expand and shine the many rays through his doubts, allowing a light from within to burn brighter and evolve him into more of the brilliant, hardworking and tender man we know today.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Two ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG

Word count: 3048

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour-rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Surprise! I wrote another chapter so I decided to go ahead and make another post. The reasoning behind this is I want to stay one month ahead and only one month ahead. That will give me a helpful buffer for when life happens but I don’t want to stockpile any more chapters than necessary. You know? So...here’s chapter two!

It’s nearing nightfall by the time we finally stop. My bones are stiff, my butt is sore, and my back hurts from all the tension I kept there out of fear that I would otherwise fall and be trampled under the horse’s quick-moving hooves.

Baranor slides down, reaching his arms up to me. I place my hands on his shoulders and allow him to help me off the horse. I stumble the moment my feet hit the ground.

Orophin—who I’ve yet to actually talk to—offers me a sympathetic smile. “Have you not ridden in a while? Take a short walk and stretch a little. It will help you feel less sore in the morning.”

I nod my thanks, tentatively releasing my hands from Baranor’s arms and turning away from the horses.

“Do not go far.” I jump. Haldir’s voice floats from the tree line just in front of us. I hadn’t seen him dismount, let alone climb into the branches. “We are not in guarded territory.”

With that ominous warning, I decide it’s best to stay close to the others. We’re near enough to the riverbank, so I hobble to the edge of the water and back again. Once movement comes a little easier, I extend my path to the tree line.

A voice to my left interrupts the silence. “Do you remember anything else?”

I yelp, placing a hand over my racing heart.

Rumil grins, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He hands me a canteen. “Sorry. I forget how terrible human senses are.”

I raise an eyebrow but bring the canteen to my lips, grateful for the drink. “And, what, elves are so much better?”

Mentally, I admonish myself for playing along. There’s no such thing as elves. Either they’re messing with me, or I really am having a wildly vivid dream.

Rumil nods, shrugging his shoulders in a way that suggests the answer is obvious. “Well, yes. We live longer, have better sight, hearing, reflexes. We do not tire as quickly as humans do, and we have a respect for our kin that the race of man cannot hope to imitate. I do not mean to offend.” He smiles, carrying a note of apology in his voice. “It’s only the truth.”

I shrug, unbothered by his comment. Because if elves exist in this world I dreamed up, why shouldn’t they be better than humans? It’s just as likely that I’ve imagined a race that’s worse than humans, and I only haven’t met them yet. “If you say so. But to answer your question, no, I don’t remember anything else. How long was I passed out?”

From his place by the now-grazing horses, Baranor answers. “Not long once we arrived, but I do not know how long you laid there before.”

“Yes, and you are quite lucky we arrived, especially with Baranor in tow.” Rumil winks, gripping my elbow and turning me back towards the part of the ground where I assume we will sleep tonight.

I give Baranor a questioning look.

He smiles awkwardly, a bit self-conscious. “I am quite skilled as a healer. I used the power in my spirit to call to your own. You were very nearly dead when we happened upon you.”

I file that information away. Power in my spirit…Probably something I’d read in a book once that my brain has brought up now. And these men I’m with—elves, I guess, according to the dream—must be people I know from…from…

But the fledgling thought dies away, leaving me with no more answers than before. I try to push back my disappointment, my logical side kicking in to soothe me. It’s okay. Soon the doctors will fix you, or you’ll wake up from this dream, and everything will be fine. You just have to wait. No point in getting freaked out.

Rumil, Baranor, and I settle on the high part of the riverbank. Orophin sits too, once he’s done refilling the canteens. I glance at the trees. I haven’t seen Haldir since we stopped riding. “Is he not going to join us?”

Orophin and Baranor exchange looks, but Rumil just snorts. “Likely not. As he said, we are neither in the territory guarded by the wardens of Lothlórien nor the patrols of Elrond. Someone has to watch for threats. More often than, not, Haldir insists on the job for himself. He doesn’t trust us to keep good enough watch.”

“That’s not it and you know it,” Orophin hisses, and I flinch at the anger in his voice, even though it wasn’t directed at me. I have no idea how Rumil keeps his face blank. The two stare each other down until Orophin speaks again, still through gritted teeth. “Go and collect the rations for dinner.”

Rumil rolls his eyes, but does as his brother says.

Baranor clears his throat, and I’m grateful when he changes the subject. He inclines his head towards me. “I see you are dressed for travel. Perhaps you were part of a company and got separated?”

Mildly perplexed, I look down at my body. Huh. He’s right. Something I had yet to take notice of is the clothes I wear — sturdy dark leggings, a deep green tunic, a red cloak, and thick leather boots. I haven’t the slightest idea how I conjured up these clothes, but Baranor is right — they’re perfect for this type of outdoor traveling.

Rumil returns and places a bundle of leaves in each of our hands. Inside seems to be bread and slices of some sort of fruit. Hesitantly, I take a bite. It’s surprisingly good.

“So how long until we reach this friend of yours?”

“Elrond,” Orophin informs, looking down the path we intend to continue on tomorrow. “Probably about thirteen more days, unless we hit bad weather. The mountains will take the longest, and traveling with a human will slow us down.” He realizes his words, eyes growing wide. “I don’t mean to be rude—”

“No, no, I get it.” I wave him off, picking at the bread in my hands. These elves sure have a bad view of me. “Humans suck.”

“At least it’s still spring,” Rumil supplies, trying to lighten the mood. “That will make our path through the Misty Mountains easier.”

“Right you are,” Baranor agrees, sipping from his canteen. “I detest crossing them in the snow.”

The three elves slip into easy conversation, exchanging stories of the worst travel conditions each has suffered, trying to one-up each other. While they talk, I place my bread back in its leaves and on the ground, no longer hungry. The stories they tell are quite detailed, and there’s this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I wouldn’t be able to make all this up…the landscape, the language, a whole new species with differing characteristics, vast knowledge of this world’s travel ways, four fully-thought-out ‘characters’, for lack of a better word….Dread and fear mingle with exhaustion and I slump, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and go to sleep for a very long time. Perhaps when I wake, all will be well.

The murmurs from those around me sound muffled. A hand wraps grips one of my shoulders, holding me upright, and Baranor’s voice comes from beside my ear. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head, feeling the weight of their eyes on me. “I’m just exhausted.”

He makes a noise of agreement. “Of course you are, I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

I try and wave off his apology, but it seems like too much effort to raise my arm over such a little thing. From the corner of my eye, I see Rumil stand and visit the horses. He returns carrying a rolled up mat and a folded blanket. He unfurls both, setting them on the ground between our gathering spot and the tree line. He beckons for me to join him and, with great effort, I stand without help, going to meet him as requested.

“Here. Sorry it’s not much. If we had known we’d be traveling with a lady, we would have brought much cushier sleeping provisions.”

I roll my tired eyes, realizing that he’s mocking me. “Goodnight, Rumil.”

He grins, sauntering off to rejoin his companions. “Goodnight, Cosima.”

I all but collapse on the mat, pulling the surprisingly warm blanket over my shoulders. Before I’m aware what’s happening, I’ve plunged into sleep.

{***}

Baranor woke me with the sun, and I’m very grateful to be leaning against him rather than directing the horse. I feel much too groggy to properly steer such a beast, especially given the fact that I have no idea how. Even though he must have stayed up most of the night, Haldir doesn’t look the slightest bit tired, and, on behalf of the bags underneath my eyes, I am thoroughly annoyed. He hasn’t said a word to me aside from the few sentences yesterday. I understand it a bit more now, though. He seems to be the leader of this group, and has either been charged with its security, or taken the task upon himself. Despite there not being another soul in sight, he rides at the front of our group—straight backed, stiff, his head on a near-constant swivel. Orophin tends to stay near one of Haldir’s shoulders—guarding his back and providing a sort of second watch, I presume. Rumil alternates between riding in-step with the horse Baranor and I occupy and cantering along behind us.

If riding was difficult yesterday, it is doubly so this morning.

Every bounce jolts though my bones, and I seem always on the verge of being tossed to the side, never quite able to fall into the rhythm the other four find so easily.  

Rumil pulls up beside us, seeming to showcase his perfect form. “Having trouble?”

I grit my teeth, but that only makes them clash together as the horse’s feet collide with the ground. “No.”

He snorts. “Toes up, heels down. Grip the horse with your legs, don’t put all that tension in your back. And if Baranor were human, you’d have strangled him by now. Loosen up.”

Baranor huffs out a laugh and takes an exaggerated breath when I relax my hold around him. “Finally, I can breathe!”

“So dramatic,” I mumble, rolling my eyes for Rumil’s benefit.

“What was that,” Baranor questions, though I know if he has as good hearing as he claims to have, he surely heard my comment.

“I said you’re a really great rider,” I shout.

The three of us dissolve into laughter, and I lose myself in this. For a moment, I forget that I am dreaming, that this is a strange world I made up in my head. I forget that I haven’t the slightest idea what comes next. Instead, I start to forge the first tentative bonds of friendship.

{***}

I am glad when we stop for the evening, and run through some stretches to try and help with the muscle aches. Rumil’s pointers certainly helped though, and I have hopes that perhaps this discomfort is only temporary. We still follow the river, and once again make camp in the space on the high, grassy bank. Bathing was an experience, but it was mercifully quick. The water was much too cold for my liking, so I washed as hastily as I could and then redressed, joining the others on the bank. I lean over to wring the water from my hair, the saturation making it seem nearly black. It’s getting quite long—almost too long, and I hope wherever we’re going has someone willing to cut it. Rumil watches me curiously as I take a spare cloth and scrunch my hair—bringing out its natural waves—but says nothing, only continues giving me an odd look. I guess with the stick-straight hair of he and his brothers, this would look unusual. Just as I am about to tease him for his staring, Haldir comes in to sight, looking quite severe.

“We have lost the cover of the trees. We will take watch in pairs, rotating halfway through the night. Orophin, Baranor—you take the first shift.”

They dutifully follow Haldir’s order, and I watch their faces as they pass. They show no signs of tiredness—no bags under their eyes, no yawning, in fact, not even a hair is out of place—but if it were me, I would be absolutely exhausted with all this staying up. And, though it is technically their turn to rest, Rumil and Haldir are still on their feet, occupying themselves with tending to the horses. I feel awful, peacefully sitting on my bedroll, messing with my hair and eating dinner, knowing I’ll get a full night’s sleep when none of them will have that luxury.

I return my food to the sack loaned to me and push myself to my feet, tentatively approaching Rumil and his brother. Rumil smiles in greeting. Haldir merely glances up and then back to his horse’s hoof he’s bending over to attend. Though I fight to keep my eyes open as it is, it’s not right for me to leave them to do all the work. So, I try to project energy I do not feel, and pose my question. “Do you want me to take a watch shift tonight?”

Haldir stiffens. Rumil raises his eyebrows and vibrates slightly—he’s holding back laughter! I give them my best unimpressed look.

Rumil tries to hide his amusement but can’t do away with his wide grin. “We appreciate the offer, really. But having a human stand watch when we have elves at our disposal? It would be the same to not set a watch at all.”

I huff, crossing my arms, trying to ignore the heat I feel in my cheeks. All this talk of how incapable humans are is getting a little old. “Well, there must be something I can do to help. I shouldn’t go straight to bed if the rest of you are still working.”

Rumil’s expression softens. He purses his lips, seeming to search for either a task for me or a way to turn me away.

“Do you know how to mend clothing?”

I’m momentarily caught off guard. Haldir hasn’t looked up from clearing his horse’s hooves, but it was definitely him who spoke.

Unbidden, the action of holding a ripped piece of cloth and using a needle and threat to bind it comes to mind. I must know how. So I answer in the affirmative. “Yeah, I think so.”

Haldir nods, straightening only to exchange one hoof for the other, never making eye contact with either me or his brother. “Good. There’s a blue tunic in my largest bag that needs mending, and one of Rumil’s too—that one’s red. Work with the light. Stop when you can’t see anymore and finish in the morning.”

I blink and feel my head tilt to the side. That’s the most he’s ever said to me. But it’s not even that he spoke, it’s how. Every syllable is crisp, curt, and succinct—a command in every sense of the word. I long-ago realized that Haldir is in charge of this little group, though now I wonder if he supervises in a larger capacity back in his home. I get the feeling he’s quite used to talking to people like this, and being obeyed.

But I did ask for something to do, so I don’t comment on his tone, only say my goodbyes and retrieve the shirts he’s described. They’re exactly where he said they would be and wrapped around a small sewing kit. I take the supplies and return to my bedroll, working through the sunset. When it grows too dark to see, I put the project away. Rumil and Haldir join me, bringing dinner with them. They set out their mats in a sort of triangle, and I realize somewhat belatedly that this allows each of us to watch the other’s back. It seems second-nature to them, to be cautions and on their guard, even during dinnertime and sleep.

I try to distract myself from that disconcerting thought. “Why are we going to meet this friend of yours anyway?”

Rumil’s gaze turns to his brother standing watch, a fond look in his eye. “There is an elleth there that Orophin is courting. Their time apart has been too long for his liking, so he is paying her a visit. It is dangerous to travel these lands alone, so Haldir and I took leave to accompany him.”

Courting. Elleth. Where am I finding all these words? I keep talking in an effort to distract myself. “That’s really sweet. Does Baranor usually go with you all, since he’s a healer?”

“Usually,” Rumil confirms. “He has extensive experience in the halls of healing, as well as healing on the battlefield, so he is an excellent addition to any company. Also Elrond—the friend we are taking you to—is an acclaimed healer himself, so he and Baranor enjoy conversing with each other.”

Haldir stretches his arms up, then reclines on his mat. “Better get some sleep, all of us. Rumil—we’re up in four hours.”

I take his advice, laying down on my own bedroll. Exhausted though I am, sleep evades me.

My mind runs a million miles an hour, piecing together bits of information from this world, trying to remember things from my home. And, all the while, thought takes root, sowing seeds of fear in my mind.

Because while I know this world isn’t real, and thus no harm can come to me here…Rumil said these lands are dangerous, and the increased watches only support my theory that we are under some kind of threat. I have no weapon with which to defend myself, let alone any skill, and while I know logically that I could throw myself off a cliff and still be fine….

What if that’s not the case?

I groan, rolling onto my back.

This is ridiculous. This place is made up. I’m trapped inside my own head, so I have no reason to be scared. Go to sleep.

And, when the moon is much higher in the sky, the exhaustion wins.

A/n Thanks for reading! You know how likes, comments, and reblogs make me smile. Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged (for some reason Tumblr isn’t letting me tag all of you?) try subscribing to the story on Ao3! That will update you when I post there. 

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