#sitting on a mushroom glittering

[tuulikannel]

Solar: But if it was a happy story where nothing happened, there wouldn't be a story. :/ Me: But this! Why is it so! Why do stories need to have conflict and bad things happening ;_; (says one who loves dark stories)

And this brought to my mind that I've had this discussion before, with one friend, when we concluded that it wouldn't be much of a story if all you do is sit on a mushroom and glitter. (this had something to do with fairies, I think…) (hey, we had this discussion… uh, 14 years ago….)

And then I wrote this on the spur of the moment! (unedited, me from 2009 is sorry for any potential language mistakes or whatever) It's been buried in the comments of my DW journal all these years XD

In the deepest forest lies an old, old fallen tree, covered with moss and mushrooms. A dark-watered river runs by it, rippling softly on its way over rocks and stones. This is a quiet, peaceful place; the rippling water, wind in the branches, occasional bird song are the only sounds ever heard there.

One morning an unusual sight could have been seen there, if there had been anyone to see it. In the forest's shadows, one of the mushrooms growing on the fallen tree seemed to glitter. A closer look would have shown the non-existent observer that it was not the mushroom that glittered, but a tiny, winged girl who sat on it. She sat there, hugging her knees, staring into the dark waters of the river. A long while passed, the sun slowly crawled up and lightened the shadows, but her sparkling was still quite clear. She watched the sunlight reflect on the waves, making the water sparkle the way she did, and smiled a little.

"Laila!" A sudden shout cut the silence. "Laila, where are you?"

She sighed, glanced toward the voice but didn't move or say anything. After a short while three small winged people much like her appeared from the forest, two of them boys, one a girl.

"Hey, there you are! Aren't you coming?" They landed on the mushroom around her. "We were waiting for you! What are you doing just sitting here?"

"Waiting?" Laila asked softly, confusedly, fingering her fine spiderweb dress. "Why?"

"Why!" The girl fairy took wing, rising up in circles. "Why? Didn't we agree we'd go to steal the dragon's treasure today?"

"I… ah." Laila blinked. "I'm sorry, Ann. I really didn't think you were serious about that."

"Of course we were!" another of the boys exclaimed. "So, shall we go now?"

"I… I don't think I will. And maybe you shouldn't either…"

Ann snorted, still flying in circles. "I swear, you'll start growing moss one of these days, just like that tree. Why don't you ever want to do anything?"

"I do," Laila protested. "Just… not today."

"Fine enough." Ann landed on the mushroom next to her. "We can go without you. Just glitter there on the mushroom if that's what you want to do."

Laila just shrugged, and the trio rose up into the air. "I really don't understand why you want to tease the poor dragon," she shouted after them as they flew away. "Why can't you let him keep his diamonds?" She sighed. "As if they were diamonds, anyway… just pieces of glass. And it's not a dragon, it's a salamander… Don't scare him so he drops his tail!" She considered a moment if she should get up and go to warn the poor lizard but decided then that he could most likely take care of himself. It's not like he hadn't experience with foolish young fairires…

So she lay down on the mushroom and stared at the pieces of sky she could see from between the branches. A few white cotton clouds drifted there… one of them looked in fact a bit like a dragon when she tilted her head. She closed her eyes and rose in her mind to the skies to battle the cloud dragons.

[sorcerous-caress]

A beautiful webbing | Minthara

[Smut, fluff, angst, oviposition, claustrophobia, aphrodisiac, egg insertion, Drider Minthara, spiders, blood and graphic descriptions, happy end, marriage, nb!Reader]

did you hear about the person who married a drider?

The cave was bigger than any you've ever seen. Stone walls isolating a huge area of the underdark, illuminated by various plants in all shapes and sizes, from the smallest mushroom pulsing with a neon like yellow, to the biggest of trees. 

The tree definitely caught your interest, its branches curled around the entirety of the cave's dome, bright silver wood hugging the cold dark stones. Various blooms in all shades of blue were scattered alongside the branches.

A haziness filled the air, specks of blue dust floating and glittering as they left their mother tree. 

A sussur tree.

You took a cautious step forward, knowing that you forsake using all magic the closer you got to the cave's entrance. Whether it was your own birthright, a one earned with hard work and studies, or even a one granted from a more powerful being. It was all seeped from your entire being.

Even your equipment wasn't spared, all the enchanted swords and flaming shields became nothing by pieces of metal upon arrival. Magical scrolls becoming akin to overpriced napkins, at least those had a use in here.

The cave entrance was deliberately put front and center, as if taunting you and challenging all those who passed by.

No amount of skulls and scattered bones throughout the gardens of the cave would've done the numbers justice, the waves after waves of so called heros that came as a bitter home welcoming gift were well above the hundred of thousands.

Yet the scattered skulls barely surpassed the hundreds. Maybe they were buried deep just when the sussur tree took roots.

The day Minthara Baerne got called into a test of Lolth was the day the underdark held its breath in suspension.

One of the most promising princesses in line for the leadership of the oldest known noble house in all of drow history. Even petty drow fights seized for a single day as all eyes were directed towards her impending fate.

Yet no one knew what the test was about, was her loyalty called into question? Or was it a promotion from Lolth. Just what did the spider queen promise her.

If anything, the Baerne house accepted it as a blessing. They've always prided themselves on their loyalty and faithfulness, even their high wizard has passed several loyalty tests.

Instead of entering the cave just yet, you decide to stroll through its surrounding gardens. Appreciating every flower that blossomed through the butterfly effect of the great fall of a princess. 

The disgraced princess is what they called her now. Even at her worst, many still held great fear of her in their hearts, not daring to drop her honorific title that's her birthright.

The deeper you walked through the gardens, the more evidence of the calamity you could find. Piles upon piles of aged skeletons and bones being weaved through each vine of plants.

It was eerie how all the bones were still attached together, as if their bodies were left there for the plants to feast on until nothing but a skeleton remained.

Some of them had their arms wrapped against the thorn filled vines, as if struggling to free themselves from its clutches to no avail.

You kept walking, something called for you, at the opposite end of the entrance. 

Minthara's test was considered one of the largest gatherings of the noble houses. At the temple of lolth inside a massive hall, the Baerne matron sat in the front row, Minthara's father, a consort, had the right to sit next to her.

Lower priestesses of Lolth were waiting in front of the curtains that veiled where the test was taking place. Their higher sisters were inside, determining the fate of Minthara.

Her own sisters, both from full blood and half blood, were whispering amongst themselves about her possible fates. 

The youngest of them, still unaware of drow customs, suggested the idea of her failing and being turned into a drider. She was immediately hushed and berated by the other sisters as they feared her words might reach one of the priestesses, or worse the Matron herself.

This wasn't the first or last test the Baerne house goes through, countless of their males were brought into their knees in front of the spider queen herself.

Yet maybe, because it's a woman this time, its implications have put everyone on edge.

You were almost at the end of the garden, a sour smell of rot and decay suddenly invaded your senses. 

Visible plant roots withered the further in you went, the dirt on the ground stained bright red, it was more akin to mud than dirt. Your steps squelching through the gore and viscera.

While the sussur vines extended far beyond this spot, not a single stray leaf could make its way to the heart of this place. A small bubble where magic could thrive freely.

Devoid of any plants or life, only the remains of countless battles stacked against each other, pulling themselves down by the combined weight of their flesh.

Something called for you, it was getting stronger. You had to endure the pungent odour of death and decay.

In a small puddle of blood that has a sheer layer of magic reflecting off of its surface, a dark green mix of leaves intertwined in symmetry of needle sharp thorns. The bush seemed to thrive in this garden of blood.

A single rose could be seen deep inside the bush, caged by thorn covered steams. It demands a sacrifice of flesh to pluck the flower.

A common bloodrose, despite the name it was anything but common, two thirds of the population could live through ten centuries and never encounter one.

Not to mention how it managed to blossom while caged by a sussur tree, the very polar opposite of its existence. The nature of a blood rose could only thrive on an endless source of blood, agony and most importantly magic. 

Magic was the only thing that could protect its fragile petals that are overly sensitive to any temperature changes, magic encased it from the second it was a mere budding rosette.

A sussur bloom and a bloodrose co-existing in the same garden. A miracle in front of your own eyes.

The flower is thirsty, you realise, it's calling for you to feed her. 

You reach your hand towards the caged rose, the tip of your finger gets pricked against one of the sharp needles, a single drop of blood escapes from your body before your blood cells start clotting the small cut.

It's so small, you have to gently shake your hand to get the droplet to fall.

It gets caught on the edge of a petal, the flower visibly blooms more as it drinks in your blood. 

You look down and see spikey tendrils retract their hold around your ankles, you weren't even aware of it when they wrapped themselves around you.

The voice in your head vanishes, you're free to move again.

As you hurry and retreat back into the lush mushroom filled gardens, the only remaining evidence of what felt like a fever dream are the trail of blood your boots leave behind on the moss covered dirt.

You make your way back to the entrance, walking alongside the cave walls.

The news of the Baerne family scandal reached even the surface, high elves were openly discussing it amongst themselves in official councils, for a week each page printed out haf in some capacity information about the princess turned drider.

Many people wondered what the matron's face must have been like, when the one that emerged from behind the curtains was a monster instead of her beloved daughter.

Was her father killed? What of her sisters?

Part of the reason the scandal was so widespread, is the sinister intentions of the other drow nobles who celebrated this stain on Lolth's favourite house, her golden children.

Yet the scholars weren't interested in the family gossip as they described it. No, they were more interested in how Minthara, a drider, managed to survive when faced with a hall filled with various drow nobles.

In normal circumstances they exile them, but this was anything but normal circumstances.

To kill her right then and there would've been the honourable thing to do, in drow's culture at least. The Matron could've easily killed her and disowned her from the Baerne house.

Some suspected love, most human scholars argued that a mother's love extended further than the worship of a goddess could.

Others sneered at the idea, especially the surface elves, how could a drow love one another? They don't even know the meaning of that word.

But maybe, it was one scholar whose theory was the closest to the truth, a half-elf. Her suggestion was that Minthara actually passed the test, which is why she wasn't killed.

Her theory was torn to shreds and made fun of endlessly after she published it.

You're back where you started, at the entrance of the cave.

Everything looks the same, as if time is a mere illusion in these gardens. The same flowery scented air welcomes you back, silver and blue particles flowing through your legs and inhaling any traces of magic it could find.

Reaching into your backpack, you take out an unlit torch. The all consuming darkness inside the cave wasn't any normal darkness you've seen before.

Igniting the flame, you head into the abyss.

The simple torch light doesn't even reach the walls or ceiling of the cave, it's massive size scattering whatever light your flame produces. 

Step after step, you watched the floor carefully. Mostly because it was the only surface reflecting your light, but also in case of any webs you might stumble onto.

Each drider's web was personalised for their own use, harming anyone else but their own maker. A thin almost invisible line of silk was stretched impossibly thin and tensed to connect all the webs together, the slightest touch could send a growing vibrating alarm through the entirety of the cave system.

So you diligently watched your steps, it only took one lucky stray string of silk for your doom. 

Even if you somehow managed to break free, the invisible coating of venom on them would've spelled your unavoidable death.

Through the humid air, you could still see the silvery particles flowing. Although their quantity thinned more and more the deeper you went into the cave.

Back at the entrance you couldn't even make out what the walls or ceiling looked like, but now, after you've gone through several branching pathways, the cave closed in around you.

It still wasn't anything but big by any means, much larger than a mere bear cave. But it was more comprehensively big instead of the unrealistic massive size it held at the start.

At least that was the illusion that these pathways gave you.

There wasn't a sign of life, no animals, no insects, not even a single fly. Just the silence and soft echo of your steps.

Wasn't it for the various spider webs, woven every so skillfully at every corner and turn, then you would've doubted a drider resided here.

You haven't seen her yet, haven't heard a single sound or a hint of spider legs scuttering. 

Maybe she was out hunting? Maybe you got lucky and found her when she was resting?

Your flame was dying out, even if you turned back now, it won't be enough to get you back out and you'll end up lost in the darkness as you tried to navigate your way out of this maze-like cave.

There was no option but to keep going.

It was only a matter of time before the Baerne family scandal was overshadowed by some other scandal, some human wizard's attempt to ascend to divinity or something. It seemed like there's always one of them per century and they always fail, yet the public eats it up each time.

The history book you've read didn't mention what happened to him, instead jumping ahead to the other documented major news of the past century.

You didn't care much honestly, you were too preoccupied in your search for the spider princess tale origins, and that archive book was enough evidence to empower you through this tedious journey in the underdark.

History long forgotten, the Baerne family recovered and is still ruling the underdark. Sometimes something is too big to fail.

You've researched her for months, getting your hand on each and every documented work about Minthara. Even buying the overpriced drow books and papers that came out around the scandal.

With all the endless questions and theories everyone wrote about her, not a single soul mentioned the first thing that went through your mind after hearing her tale.

How lonely it must have been for her.

Drider are known for their unstable mental health, yet madness wasn't something that Lolth handed to them alongside the eight legs.

No, the madness was acquired after years of isolation, exile blurring their sense around the passing of time. One day you're surrounded by your family and loved ones, the next you're deemed a monster unfit to share society with the rest of us.

Chased out by the threat of violence, your own reflection and body altered beyond recognition at times. How cruel of a fate Lolth gifted her children.

No more walking, no more music, no more fun. You and the fate of silence for the rest of your life. 

It would drive anyway crazy, yet people had the nerve to describe driders as people with a death wish. As if it wasn't the fault of the people pointing their fingers and casting their judgement.

Fear keeps us safe, fear keeps us sane.

Driders lacked all known types of fear, much like their own sanity withered inside their brain.

Your torch went out.

Flame extinguished, darkness draped over you.

All consuming, ever cold and numbing darkness. Your brain attempts to make sense of your sudden lack of vision, swirling various shapes into the pitch black surroundings, only for them to evaporate like smoke.

Faces of loved ones, monsters and even promises of an exit. Drawn in illusions as your primal mind tried to lead your path.

You knew deep down that nothing lurked in the darkness, you've been in this cave for what felt like hours by now. You would've seen something.

It wasn't possible not to run into her by now, even a normal sized drider would've crossed your path once or twice. And she was 5 times the size of a normal drider from what you've read, why else would she claim a cave this huge as her own.

With your hand stretched to take hold of the wall, you decided to keep moving forward through the darkness. Eventually you're fated to reach some kind of end right?

Whether it be a dead end or a cave end, is up to the fates to decide.

You kept walking as time lost its meaning, even when the sound of your footsteps disappeared. A soft padding covering the floor that completely masked your steps, you couldn't see what it was in the dark.

Madness knocked on the windows of your brain, paranoia seeping through the cracked glass.

You wanted to speak, to scream, do anything just to make any sound to hear yourself. To hear any sound.

You couldn't hear your own heartbeat, alarms were going off inside your head.

Were you dead? Did that plant hold some kind of poison in its spikes and now you've stupidly signed your own death certificate.

Taking a deep breath, you feel the air rushing through your lungs, you feel the rise and fall of your chest but you still can't hear a single thing.

Stopping in your tracks, your spiral of insanity came to a halt as you spotted a vague dim light in the vast darkness.

Was your brain playing tricks on you again? 

You let go of the wall, desperately running towards the light, breath heavy and sweating and legs sore. You pushed your body as you reached towards the light.

It grew stronger, larger. The faint glow multiplied as another and another joined it the closer you got.

You could see your own hands again, the colour of your skin. Your own healthy and very much alive flesh.

It wasn't an illusion, but a very real glow. 

A cluster of bioluminescent plants attached to the upper parts of the walls and covering the ceiling, extending into a large opening leading to a big room filled with them.

There were scattered like stars hanging up in the sky, each one is of different colours and shapes. A glistening translucent web connected them together, a faint holographic sheer shining through the web in a quiet dance of rainbow lights.

Faerie lights, the silk was enchantment with faerie light.

This room was at the furthest end of the cave, at the heart where that bloodrose laid no doubt. How else could magic survive here unless it was part of the same bubble the bloodrose thrived under.

It was vastly different from the other parts of the maze-like cave you've seen so far. The air was warmer, drier with no humidity. The walls were devoid of any sharp edges, if anything they shined like marbles instead of stone.

The soft dancing faerie lights give a colourful glow to the room. It was trimmed and carved into perfection, this room was the true heart of the cave. 

Stepping fully inside, the lights reflected off of your eyes, you were almost in awe at the beauty of this place. Exploring the left side of the room, you were met with a makeshift bed, made with various soft cloths and feather filled pillows. To your surprise, the bed was more on the normal size, quite big yes but nothing beyond what most nobles had at their homes.

A lyre sat on the table next to the bed, its strings matching the ones hanging above on the ceiling.

Exploring the right side, you found…hay? Not just hay but a large cluster of various soft materials like cotton and wool, connected together in a circle of silk.

Just like any other heart, this cave's heart was brimming with life. 

Dread filled your heart as you realised the true purpose of this room, it's a nursery.

That cluster on the left, you could see various eggs through the translucent parts of the silk.

You were at the nest of the drider princess.

Uninvited.

Yes you wanted to meet her but not like this, not an armed stranger intruding on her cluster of eggs.

Taking a step back from the fragile nest, something stinky caught your boots and you fell back against the padded flooring.

Your thud barely made a noise at all, you haven't really acknowledged the strange floor until now.

Looking down, you were met with extremely thick webs, covering the entire floor. Padding the stones with layer after layer of silk that trailed even outside of the room.

The webs you've spent so much effort avoiding, you were walking on a carpet of them all this time since your torch went out.

Terror echoed through your bones, a sense of impending doom. Minthara had been aware of you all this time

You were sure no one was around you, you swore never saw her. Where could she have been hiding?

Something cold dripped onto your head. 

Your limbs were shaking, your fight or flight instincts screaming at you.

Lifting your head, colour drained from your face as you looked up at the ceiling.

Red eyes met yours.

Long silver hair dangling from her head, crimson eyes marking you as her prey. Another set of eyes were further apart on her forehead, slightly smaller in size.

The upper body of the drow, a lean muscular build, clothed in armour that stopped just before her lower spider abdomen.

The sheer massive size of it was difficult for your brain to comprehend, it was abysmally larger than any other drider. A giant spider abdomen of pure blackness that acted as a huge dark mirror behind her figure. Eight legs sprawled from it, each one extremely long and thin. Sharp knife-like edges and jagged saw-like insides.

A single leg went from her abdomen, at the center of the vast ceiling, and trailed down the walls until its end buried under the thick layer of webs on the floor.

Like a bird cage trapping you in place, a gradient of abyssal black that faded into a rich imperial purple. 

Various gems and gold circlets decorated each leg, rubies and amethysts being the main theme. Much like the armour she wore, it had the clear holy markings of a high paladin of Lolth. Its carvings giving the illusion of wrapping around her figure and hugging it so deliciously, when in reality it no doubt had multiple thick layers of padding and metal for a proper battle attire.

"You've finally used your common sense, p'luvt." Her voice wasn't quiet like the other drows you've met so far, in fact it was full of confidence.

Crawling her body from the ceiling, she came down from the right side of the room as she shielded her nest with her large spider frame.

She wasn't immediately lunging at you, which was a win in your book. You half expected your head to be bitten off the second you attempted to look up.

"I don't mean any harm, I promise." Dropping your backpack and weapons, you made a point to stay on the floor to not give her any false ideas.

"Harm? You think a pathetic thing like you could even harm me?" Her raspy voice held a hint of amusement, as if the idea of you being a danger to her was the joke of the century.

Minthara only needed to learn her body forward to completely tower over you, "If I had wanted you dead, I would have let the poison take you out." She leaned even closer, her face directly above yours.

You didn't move as she cupped your face with her hand, satisfied with the feeling of your skin against her sharp fingers. 

Touching the back of your own head, you were surprised to be met with wetness, a sticky purple fluid. "Is that the poison?"

"No." Her thumb parted your lips, the same purplish liquid bubbled at the tip of her fang before dropping into your mouth. "That's the antidote, the walls had the venom."

Minthara seemed pleased with your obedience as you swallowed without the need for coaxing, her lips glistened with a sheer transparent layer as she pressed them against yours.

The kiss stung your lips, the feeling of an itchiness seeping into your flesh as she pushed her tongue in your mouth.

"That's a small dosage of the poison."

You let her carry you, never resisting as she wrapped her front tendrils around you.

She laid you on the bed, giving you one short kiss after another.

"Your scent is irresistible." She inhaled against your neck, "become part of something greater than your mortal life could ever achieve, become mine."

Wrapping your arms around her, the flame of desire ignited deep below your stomach as you considered her offer, becoming her mate.

You nodded, chasing after each kiss with greediness.

"Use your words." She pulled away, "swariy biu hithern d'ilr ulu uns'aa"

You considered your journey, the months of research, the length you've went to just to find her cave, the madness you've brush against back in the darkness.

Her fangs grazed your ears, "vow my ownership over you." Pulling away, her eyes held a hint of vulnerability in them as she looked at you.

Brushing a side of her soft silvery locks behind her pointy ears, you held her battle worn face so tenderly. "I vow to always belong to you." 

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips onto hers. A soft gentle kiss to seal your oath with.

Minthara took your clothes off, with each newly revealed patch of skin she'd plant a kiss on. Her hands holding your body and positioning it however she pleased on the bed. Your own arousal growing the more her kisses trailed down and down.

"Ussta 'chev" she'd whispered as spread your legs, hooking your thighs above her shoulder, face to face with your most intimate parts.

Her gaze filled with hunger, the taste of your flesh still fresh on her tongue. Leaning forward, her tongue gave a testing swipe against your heat, beforehand her whole mouth started devouring you.

The pleasure was worth the pain, the rush of heat clouding your brain and making you melt. Grinding back and pushing against her mouth with desperation, all shame left you at the feeling of her hot wet tongue.

Your fists held on to the bedding below you, pulling on it the more intense the feeling got, you were quickly stumbling towards the edge embarrassingly fast. She kept her hold on your thighs, going even deeper and deeper.

Making a moaning mess out of you, obscene screams of pleasure echoing through the cave. Her fingers joined soon and collected your wetness on them, trailing down onto your hole as they push against the opening.

That pushes you over the edge, the pressing of her fingertip inside you makes your muscles tense in a rippling orgasm. She lets you ride it out against her mouth, swallowing down all of your juicies and cum.

You taste yourself on her lips as she leans forward to give you a kiss, letting you catch your breath.

Hearing a subtle sound at back her throat, akin to a spider purring. "You were made for this" covered in your own cum, her finger push inside you, opening you up as she adds another.

She watches you with keen eyes as she pushes and prodes your inside, watches your teeth biting into your wet lips, your naked body helpless on her bed.

"Take it." Minthara adds a third finger when she's sure you're ready, "take all of me, let me have all of you." It's so deep, brushing the walls of your insides and reigniting the arousal between your legs.

You see two of her spider legs moving in the back of the room, you can't focus much on them before being guided back to looking at her eyes as you twitch and squeeze around her fingers. 

You're stretched slowly and deliberately, hole wet and hungry around her fingers. By the end of it, four of them can easily slide in and out of you.

Minthara helps your second orgasm by going back down on you, her mouth forcing your twitching body and milking it out of cum. Her fingers never stop prodding you as you shake and shiver from the intensity.

You've came twice already and she is still fully dressed in her suit of armour, holy symbols now soaked in your cum.

Pulling her fingers out, she leans away, looking at you with pride. "You handled this better than I thought you would, you're strong enough to bear my children."

Only then do you notice the three eggs she was craddling with one of her back legs, bringing them closer to you and setting them on the bed.

They were bigger than normal eggs, two almost the size of your fist. You could only fit a single one in your palm as you held it with a worried look.

"Does the size intimidate you?" Minthara encloses the hand carrying the egg with her own, her other hand rubbing the lower part of your stomach, "it will fit, i will make sure of it."

Giving your forehead a final kiss, she moved you with ease to lay on your stomach instead. Spreading your thighs and exposing your leaking hole to her, she insepcts her handwork with two fingers.

You grab into the pillow, burying your head into it as you feel a hard cold shell pressing against your entrance.

"This is your true purpose. Embrace it." She slowly pushes the egg in, her voice laced with lust as she watches it disappear inside you, "embrace having my children inside you, it's my right to breed you."

The egg stretches you out, completely different than her fingers. You feel impossibly filled as your hole keeps helplessly twitching against it, making the egg only go deeper and deeper.

You hear Minthara moan from behind you, the sight of your needy hole making her lose her senses.

Then the stinging feeling of a bite against your thigh, soft flesh marked with her fangs. Something flows into your body.

A feeling of lightness envelopes you, all the pain disappears and is replaced by a comfortable feeling of being filled to the brim, like it's what you're meant to be.

If anything…you still feel empty, heat quickly spreads through your body as you whine against the pillow. More. You need more of her inside you.

"Please…" your voice sounds desperate and strange to your own ears, "Minthara, it's not enough." 

Her fingers go inside you to push the egg deeper, an electrifying pleasure shoots through your spine and makes you arch your back. It's almost as intense as your previous orgasm, the pleasure is melting your brain.

The more she moves the egg inside you the more you leak into her bed, grinding against the mattress cover in an attemp for relief. All the nerves in your body had their sensitivity turned up and everything feels impossibly good as her venom travels through your bloodstream.

Was it even venom that she bit into you? It feels completely different.

You're beginning for the second egg, whining and crying at the deep urge inside you to be a good mate for her, to please and appease your mistress.

Minthara looks at you with love, proud of you for knowing your place, for learning how to properly address her so soon.

She grants you another egg, pushing it slowly inside as you thank her breathlessly. 

It slots snugly against its sister, filling you even more as your brain chirps with happiness at the feeling, the sense of purpose this gives you. You feel Minthara's lips against the back of your neck, whispering how good you're being, what an obedient spouse you are to your wife. 

The third orgasm hits you out of nowhere, you didn't even realise it until you were squeezing your thighs together and pushing the eggs against each other. Staining her bed with your cum and making an even more pathetic display of yourself.

She seems ever so pleased.

The same clickly purring sounding again as she teases your overstimulated areas, enjoying your squirming and shaking. Your brain barely able to take in all the pleasure she's showering you with.

The final egg is left. 

Minthara helps you sit back on the bed, her strong arms holding you up as you lean into her embrace, legs kneeling on the soft matteress with your tears stained face buried into her neck.

Running her hand softly down your back, she lets you cling to her for comfort as you adjust to the new position. Knowing how overwhelming this can be for you to take in, how fragile mortals tend to be.

The air of the room is still comfortably warm, the dancing lights ease your mind as the soft atmosphere helps you catch your breath. You feel safe.

The outside world completely forgotten and ignored "this is your true home" Minthara whispers, "this is your nest, this is where you should be."

And this egg, should be inside you.

After she made no move to press it against your entrance, simply holding it in her arm. You realise what she wants you to do.

You cling to her more, she kisses your ear. 

Leaning forward, you stay kneeling as you spread yourself with one hand, carrying the egg in the other.

Minthara watches you with a smile.

Gravity made the other two eggs press against your hole, attempting to force themselves out. You have to push your fingers inside to get them deeper, push them up until they slot in place, until they're perfectly held by your tight insides. 

Until they're pressing against where your intimate parts are, keeping you stuck in an endless cycle of pleasure.

That one spot inside you, abusing it and harshly rubbing it with every breath you take. Yet no pain or discomfort could be felt, only pleasure in it's purest forms, a mind numbing pleasure.

Your fingers go out with a pop sound, your own wetness traveling down your thighs. Minthara keeps her hold on you firm, keeping you sitting up in place.

Pushing the egg inside you, the familiar delicious stretch follows up soon. You don't think you can even close your legs fully anymore, forced to keep them open and spread so the eggs remain inside you.

When it's halfway through, is when your poor abused hole is stretched to its limits, opened fully spread so wide. Your fingers keep pushing it inside as your hole encloses around the egg, swallowing it too.

Minthara holds your hands, keeping you in the same position as you squirm while the eggs move to adjust to the new addition inside you. You can barely focus on her lips or kiss as a fourth orgasm comes crashing down on your, your vision blurring fully for a second while your brain melts.

You fall into her, she catches you. Hugging you into her body, rubbing your sore thighs where she left several grip marks.

Darkness surrounds you, exhaustion winning.

-

When you wake up, you're cradled against her chest, no armour to cover her soft flesh. The scent of lavender envelopes you as you realise all the grime and sweat has been wiped off of your body, you're completely clean and fresh.

Minthara is the same, the bed has new sheets and there is a soft melody in the air. The gentle strumming of the Lyre she held in her hands.

You're lulled back into another slumber, burying your face against her soft breasts.

-

Time passes, how much? You're not sure. You've kept track of the first few months but after the 7th, everything started becoming a blurr.

This room became your whole world, the only thing you cared for. Even when Minthara brought you back some newspapers from one of her haunts, you just used it as feed for the fire to warm you up.

The two of you fell into a complex dynamic of fragile balance. It was the most consuming and possessive kind of love you've ever felt from someone. 

She truly wanted you for her own, you very own soul even. And in return she took care of all of your needs, keeping you safe and protected as you kept her eggs safe and warm inside you.

Speaking of which, she'd replace them daily. On some days you'd carry up to 6 different eggs, on others she merely tasked you with warming one. It depended on how much moving she planned for you that day.

You've explored the rest of the cave with her, hugging her upper body from behind as belt of silk kept you safely secured to her while she showed you the various turns of the cave. Occasionally taking you to the gardens outside.

There were many intruders on most days, yet she dealed with them swiftly as their bodies were quickly disposed on into the blood garden. 

Her territory expanded after you became a part of her family, your safety was her main concern and she realised it's better to gather a good amount of soliders under her command to guard the outside territories. 

They were drows, from what she's told you, used to be drows just like her, but turned into driders. Working with them irritated her because of how unstable they tend to be, yet something about her massive sheer size made them kneel in admiration and obey her, even when she would've prefered them cowering in fear.

Yet sometimes a gaggle of paladins would slip by, Lathander's or Corellon's or any of those so called good deities that thought it was their duty to purge all evil from the world.

Minthara wasn't impressed by any of them, if the cave didn't kill, then she'd take advantage of the protection the sussur tree offers her and strike them when they're defenseless without their precious magic.

You had plenty of books and gems to waste your time with, practising on the lyre whenever Minthara was too preoccupied to retreat back to her nest.

The bond you two shared, she's described as alurlssrin, the highest form of love a drow can give to another person.

You held her tightly each night, kissed her gently the more of her vulnerability she'd reveal to you after shedding her cold exterior. Becoming her strength when she needed someone to lean on.

One curious night, as the two of you held each other in her bed, you couldn't help but wonder out loud why she still wore the armour of Lolth after all she has done to her.

"My oath still stands" she replied, "Lolth's cruelty can take many forms, this is merely one of them." 

She revealed to you what happened that night, at the test. Telling you about all the brutal trails she was put under, all the humiliation she had to endure.

"I prevailed, much to Lolth's displeasure, deep in my heart, i knew she wished for my failure." Minthara explained, "as a reward, i was bestowed with this so called gift" Minthara sneered, words like venom from her lips.

"It must have been lonely, to live like this for so long" your opinions didn't change, ever since the moment you stepped into the cave, you were still the same exact person.

"It was." She held your hand in hers, kissing your fingers. "But now, I have you. What a great distraction you are." 

-

After a while, the eggs were ready to hatch. As much as Minthara tried to always keep a stoic face, the excitement in her voice was unmistakable.

She wanted the both of you to witness it, all the eggs were put in their original cluster of silk and wool. A warm hearth like fire under them, completely harmless to the touch, born from the purest of magic.

Despite the strange feeling of emptiness inside you, having gotten used to carrying at least one of the eggs each day for months, you still felt great pride and a sense of achievement at seeing them all healthy and ready to hatch.

"They will be normal spiders", Minthara explained, "Lolth prohibits all driders from reproducing."

"I know you find spiders adorable" you teased her, "how come each time one gets lost in your territory, they are let go with a slap on the wrist?"

"Well they're clearly more respectful than intruders who claim they got lost, spiders are simply superior." 

She was smiling, a genuine smile, the wrinkles on her face giving her a soft glow as she admired you, the person she loves most in this world.

Her lips looked inviting, she leaned in closer to you.

But before your lips could meet each other, one of the eggs started shaking, stealing her attention away. 

There was genuine awe in her eyes as she watched the egg, it was her first ever batch of eggs. The first of several to come, as she promised you.

The two of you held your breath when a crack formed through the inner layer of the egg and travelled to the outsider, two fuzzy thin legs emerging from the silk cocoon, moving around as if cutely waving.

"This one is strong, I can feel it." Minthara whispered, holding your hand tightly. You could imagine her cheering for the spider inside.

Another crack though the egg, from the opposite side, another pair of fuzzy legs breaking through. 

After the head managed to break the top of the egg, the most adorable shiny dots for eyes looked in your direction, for a second it looked like the spider was wearing the egg like armour

A laugh escaped you at the uncanny resemblance they had to their mother, god they really are Minthara's children huh.

Blinking your tears of joy away, one second the spider was moving, the next a harsh crack could be heard as the spider laid limb.

An arrow, shot right at the egg from behind you and Minthara.

Your world stopped moving.

The clunking of heavy armour and swords being drawn could be heard, the stretching of a bow string as another arrow was being prepared.

It never got to leave the bow. Minthara was faster than all of them, bigger and stronger than all of them.

But this newborn spider wasn't.

You cradled it in your palm, the shell of the egg falling away to reveal the baby spider inside.

Yells sounded from behind you, flesh tearing and the agonised screams that suddenly got quiet as metal was ripped so shred. Whole bodies torn apart limb from limb like paper.

Minthara's rage didn't quell, not even after each of them laid dead and dismembered. Not even as she shoved their own arrows down their throats and into their lungs.

The spider wasn't bigger than your thumb, you didn't know what to do as you stared at it. 

One of the swords slid down next to you, covered in their blood, its surface so shiny it was akin to a mirror as you stared at your own eyes on it.

A voice called out to you.

A life for a life, blood for blood.

Pressing the tip of your thumb against the sharp end of the sword, it didn't take much pressure for it to get pricked. 

A single drop of blood trailed down your finger, it wasn't bigger than your thumb, you knew what to do.

You gently let it drop over the baby spider, the blood seeped into its body.

Minthara went to dispose of their bodies, scuttering quickly on the ceiling as she made her way to the end of the garden.

You couldn't take your eyes off of the spider, waiting for it to open its own eyes.

The most adorable shiny black dots for eyes met yours

Breathing a sigh of relief, you felt the little bug wash itself with your one drop of blood, slowly regaining its strength.

"Look" you said when Minthara came back, sitting next to you, "safe and healthy, it's really strong like you said."

She gently took the spider in her hand, seeing the small thing crawl around her fingers. There was a look of sadness on her face, a frown to her lips.

"I have failed you" she didn't meet your gaze, "I swore to protect you, and i have let these insects crawl freely into my house, our home."

Your hand enclosed on top of hers, "you were caught off gaurd, it's not your fault."

"No." Her brows furrowed, "I am never off gaurd. I have prepared for this day, i have tested all the webs myself."

The spider curiously went to explore the rest of the room, jumping from Minthara's hand onto the webbed grounds.

She pulled you closer to her, "I couldn't hear them in, I couldn't see them."

She was feeling weak, you knew how much she hated that feeling. For someone to best her.

"What about the sussur tree, Shouldn't it have stopped them?" You rubbed her back with your free arm, feeling one of her spider legs wrap around you.

"....I thought so too. But their magic, it was unnatural, not like anything I have seen before." 

She swallowed as she continued, "the crests on their armours, the magic books they carried, it held symbols of a god I could not recognise."

"Doesn't Mystra control all magic?" You were growing more confused by the recent events

"Apparently, not anymore." 

Your conversation was cut short as another egg began hatching. This time, Minthara blocked the room entrance with her spider abdomen to not take anymore chances. 

The rest of the batch hatched safely to your joined relief, everything went well and you had a cluster of fuzzy small spiders running around and playing with the fearie lights enchanted silk robes.

Minthara stood up, offering her arm to you as unspoken request to let her carry you. You gladly accepted.

Taking you into her arm, she moved the both of you to the other side of the room. Placing you on the bed with a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I have something that I want to show you." One of her spider legs dug through a silk cocoon buried until the webbed flooring, bringing it up and placing it into your hand.

It was different, the silk was finer and more shiny than her normal silk. The cocoon was also wooven with great care. An embroidered symbol of a flower on the outside.

"A secret egg?" You weren't sure if you wanted to ruin the beautiful embroidery of silk.

Minthara shook her head, "open it. It's for you."

Gently prying open the cocoon, something shined below in the hollow insides. Two red petals were rolled up, each one holding a golden ring with a bright clear diamond on top.

Your heart fluttered, stilling your body as your processed the two rings in front of you.

Minthara was looking at you, gauging your reaction. Her red eyes not veiling the love and vulnerability they held in them.

"Ussta 'chev" her lips trembled as she said those words, despite whispering then a thousand times over like prayers against your heated skin in endless nights of passion. My beloved.

Drows Do Not Marry. You remember reading about it over and over in a million different books, drows do not marry but only take consorts.

Yet the rings in front of you told a completely different story.

She asks for your hand.

"You're mine just as I am yours."

You give your hand to her

"And if you leave me, rest assured it would kill me."

She traces her fingers on top of yours, kissing your hand

"Take me as your wife, forever."

Minthara places the ring on your finger, admiring the jewel shining against your skin.

Putting on the other ring herself.

You intertwine your fingers, holding her hand against yours.

The happiness that goes through your body is unmatched, it's most joy you have ever felt.

Minthara gently cups your cheek, wiping your tears away. 

The taste of her venom has grown sweet and familiar by now, it tasted like home.

You lean over to give her a kiss.

[p0k3m0nz]

Treating Malleus like the fae he is

“May I have your name child of man?” Malleus asked holding out his hand with the softest smile

“No…but you may call me Y/n” you said softly

“Malleus! The sweet human who lives in ramshackle gave you something!” Lilia yelled coming from the hall to his room and handing him the VDC letter covered is shiny stickers and a jar of honey with a glittering golden bow

“Very… shiny…” he whispered holding up the VCD ticket and honey jar

“Child of man, would you like some of this?”Malleus asked holding up a spoon of strawberry jam made from the strawberrys you left at his door since you weren’t able to say hello last time you came around

“I would love to but I prefer human food” you said trying to be as polite as possible

Malleus saw you sitting around a circle of a few mushrooms, not in it but outside of it he stayed as quiet as possible trying to hear what you were saying to them

you looked up and saw a full moon and stood up walking around the mushrooms clockwise twice then you looked at the grass and saw dewdrops on the grass

“Hm well I can’t go in there now,glad I saw that before hand” you whispered softly

“Why can’t you go in there now child of man?”Malleus appeared right next to you

“Well because there is dewdrops on the grass I know the spell is only for older women but I still want to be careful Vil just got my skin cleared all up” you answered Malleus question

[grimnisdottir]

Inspired by the many arranged marriages to seal a treaty AU's, and thought, well… no, not quite. Anyway enjoy my twist. ~~~~~~~~~~~

Madara is entirely unsure why a Hatake is sitting at the table, but the way the White Demon seems to relax minutely holds his attention over the tense atmosphere. His eyes seem relaxed, so Madara can see white lashes spread like snowfall over blood. See how he gently leans towards the older man as though awaiting something. If this was to be his Wife, then Madara can at least admit that the Senju is pretty to look at.

Madara flicks his attention to Hashirama and tries desperately not to let a bark of laughter out. Hashirama looks vaguely pale for a Clan Head, and the dark circles under his eyes only seem to pop out more. His old friend looks- Madara sobers. Now was not the time. 

Today they had something important to discuss in the treaty, and the interloper would only prolong the inevitable. 

“Hatake-san, why are you here?” Madara addresses the man directly, annoyance threading into his tone. 

The redhead, and wasn’t that a marvel, tilts his head to the left. If it hadn’t been for the Hatake mon, golden eyes that reminded him of wolves, and the freezing lightning-touched chakra lazily rolling about, Madara would have assumed another clan entirely. 

The Hatake smiles, eyes crinkling in amusement. “Uchiha-sama,” the man addresses him, leaning back and crossing his fingers on the table. It has Madara bristling at the arrogance. "I am here because the Senju can't honor the terms of one important treaty line." 

Madara stiffens along with his brother beside him. Excuse me? 

Mushrooms sprout onto the table as Hashirama groans, capturing Madara's attention faster than a Kunai can strike. "What is the meaning of this Senju-sama?" Madara says through his teeth. 

"Uchiha-sama," The Hatake smoothly interrupts. It's lazy and unbothered by the insult he has given. Golden eyes glitter, and Madara wants to stab. "You react too soon. Tobirama Senju is not just Heir to the Senju. He is also Mine."

What.

Madara blinks. A strangled noise comes from Izuna and what sounds like a choke from Hikaku. He had no idea the Hatake had switched hands. The last he had known, it was still Satoshi Hatake. A devastating man who Madara swears his honored father sneaks out with to go get drinks when the wolves pass by. Though the knowledge they had been able to scrape up about his children was scarce. Only two. One passed, so this must be the youngest who follows in his father's footsteps, Katsuro Hatake.

"I apologize, Hatake-sama. I was unaware that the Hatake had a new Clan Head," Madara says but side eyes a further wilting Hashirama. 

"Forgiven and forgotten. We like to use knowledge and misdirection, especially with your Heir and his talents, Uchiha-sama," Katsuro waves off their apology and gently touches Tobirama's hand. "I named Tobirama my Heir, as agreed upon by the terms made between our clans," Madara can hear the ‘predates yours’ that goes unsaid, "that should I not have children, my sister's eldest child was to be my Heir."

"So, to get to the point, Uchiha-sama. The Senju can not offer you Tobirama's hand in marriage to seal this treaty." The room explodes into noises of outrage but Madara closes his eyes. He should have known where the direction was going. Dealing with Hashirama had been easy. Although the marriage wasn’t ideal - he hadn’t wanted to, but Izuna would have slit the Demon's throat if given a chance, their animosity too strong -  the Elders had demanded it. Made it a stipulation, and the Senju agreed. 

No, Hashirama did. 

Looking closer at the duo, he can spot a pleased glint in their eyes. Sending his senses out, Madara is surprised the soothing cool of Tobirama’s chakra is curling around him, like a cat trying to find the best spot in the sun. It jumps back if noticed, pulling behind the sharp icy chakra of the Uncle. Not that he would be able to tell across the Senju’s face. 

As much as Madara disagrees, he has already resigned his fate to be tied to Tobirama for the sake of peace. “So, what do you suggest?” 

Katsuro finally offers a smile, near smug and self-satisfied. “Hatake hearts need to be won, Uchiha-sama. The candidate in question will have the chance to earn it, as Tobirama will endeavor to earn theirs. If it fails, no harm, no foul, and the treaty continues. We Hatake do not enter into loveless marriages, nor do the Uchiha if I recall. If this is unacceptable as a term, then you may choose someone else to marry.”

Madara can't help but feel like he's stepping into a trap, but too late to stop it. Already the terms have been set, and the Elders will likely agree. The burn of anger alights a fire in him. "Are you implying I cannot earn my Wife's heart?" Madara asks, voice tight and controlled. 

A hand wave, dismissive in nature, is the only response that gives anything away. "If that's the way you choose to take my terms, then do so Uchiha-sama. But they will not change. My Heir is precious and an incredible shinobi. Anything less than loved is a travesty.”

“Fine.” Madara snaps, slashing an arm through the air. “I accept those terms.”

“Nii-San,” Izuna whines lowly, and Madara doesn’t miss how Izuna puts his head in his hands, muttering so low he can’t hear. 

“I’m pleased to hear that!” Hashirama gains life, clapping his hands together, which only makes flowers grow on the table around him. 

In one smooth movement, the Hatake Head stands and gently runs his fingers through silver-white hair. The way it parts under fingers has Madara wondering what it would feel like if it was his hand instead. Was it soft? As the loveliest carmine eyes meet his, Tobirama tilts his head, which shows off a column of pale throat and… was that more red lines?  A teasing tilt to plush lips captures his attention before the seductive song suddenly ends, and Tobirama looks like he normally does. But the image has been seared into his head. Whatever game Tobirama Senju plays, Madara wants to see it through even though he feels much like a mouse would before a cat.

Madara grins, full of teeth and excitement. Tobirama Senju might be a good dance partner, after all.

[annie-creates]

Fool me too

Pairing: Lady Lesso x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1000

Note: Happy April Fool's! And Easter Monday! This day just calls for a fic like this.

You could have expected it. Should have, really. As the freezing cold water slowly seeps into your clothes being watered down from head to toe, you’re more disappointed in yourself rather than your students. They were the offsprings of pure evil after all, rotten to their very core. After the salt and sugar switched in your morning coffee, stinky mushrooms exploding in your office and poisonous vines sneakily hanging from the hallway’s ceilings, you should have known better than to step into your classroom without checking it out first.

April fools was after all a very popular concept amongst the nevers so you would be almost let down if they didn’t try to achieve some misdemeanors this week. And it was only Monday. How are you gonna get through the whole week you had no idea. Maybe it’s time to put on one of those scary armors that roam the corridors or just take a vacation. That however would be a sign of weakness and cowardice and that was foreign to you as a fellow never.

So you teach the lesson proudly in your wet clothes and at the end leave after all your students. You carefully turn every corner, looking out for any clues on their next trap. You spend the rest of your day watching over your shoulder and rather carefully tasting everything you’re about to eat or drink. You’re determined to not let them fool you even one more time, the score already being too prone in their favor. They keep teasing you a little longer and you’ll come up with a payback so severe they could never see it coming.

Clearly you weren’t observant enough tho because as you’re walking over the bridge talking with Dovey after today’s dinner, she steps on a wire that activates a mechanism which pushes you both over the edge into the muddy water. As if you weren’t soaked and humiliated enough for today, as you crawl out from the water to the small beach by the castle, a thrower full of confetti and glitter explodes over you. The laughter of your students fades as they run away, hopefully at least a little scared of your possible revenge.

You make your way into your bedroom, luckily without any other stupid pranks in your way. Your wife is already comfortably sprawled over the sofa in front of the lit fireplace and the flames dance over her face making her ginger hair shine more than usual. You sigh heavily as you close the door and she looks over at you from the book in her lap, clearly finding your state very amusing.

“Shut up.” You warn her before she can even say anything.

“I wasn’t going to laugh at you.” Leonora says but her face betrays her.

“Yeah, very funny. This is all your doing anyway.” You pester her.

“How come?” Lesso questions with her head tilted slightly to the side.

“You raised them like this. Audacious and impudent. You’re responsible for their stupid jokes.” But even you knew you couldn’t blame all the student’s effrontery on their dean.

“Why don’t you rather go clean up in the bathroom?” She offers instead.

“If YOU try to fool with me I swear to heavens I’m gonna divorce you.“ You warn your wife as you make your way to the sink.

Lucky for you, or more for her, she didn’t play any childish pranks on you and you took a long shower without her interrupting. It took a lot of effort getting all the mud and confetti off yourself and you’ll be lucky if your dress is still gonna be washable and wearable. There was still some glitter in your hair and skin you couldn’t get rid of, but it’ll have to be enough for now. When you return to the warmed-up bedroom, your wife is still sitting in the same position reading her book.

“If it’s going to make you feel better, I’m gonna threaten them all with a good long stay in the doom room tomorrow.” She proposed as she extended the blanket draped over her legs for you to sit under it next to her.

“It’s fine. I’ll just have to be more alert. It’s a good practice.” You admit, not really mad at your students anymore. “You should see my office, it’s a disaster.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it? I’m sure you won’t let them fool you again.” Leonora comforts you as she kisses your forehead.

“It’s not bad, it’s even worse. This morning they switched the sugar and salt, so my breakfast was ruined. My office stinks like a hundred years old troll and I had to spend a whole hour teaching soaking wet. I could hardly get a word out over the teeth chattering. Which I’m sure they found pretty amusing.” You explain all that happened in your horrendous day. “Mother-fucking stupid April fools.”

“Well it sure will be better tomorrow.” Lesso instinctively tries to warm you up.

“I should probably be proud of them for succeeding, but they better watch out tomorrow cause I’m coming back after them.” You admit, picking on the loose strands of the blanket.

“I’m sure it will settle down, they just got too excited for today.” She admits, if there’s anything that bores the nevers it’s repeating stuff they already succeeded in.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. I’m tasting the sugar before I put it in my coffee this week though.” You remind both yourself and her reaching out for your own book that was waiting for you on the coffee table.

You settle down next to Leonora leaning on her shoulder as you get back to reading your own unfinished book before going to bed. A cozy, calm, silent evening was what you needed right now after a day full of surprises and pranks. Little did you know she wasn’t really paying attention to the words in her book anymore, already planning her revenge on her students for tormenting her beloved wife.

[whalesforhands]

singe the tales ii (jjk fantasy au)

adventuring is never what it seemed to be, not when your companions are the loopy sort.

warnings: light gore, injuries, blood, depression and stress, geto-centric but i swear it has a purpose as to why i chose him here

previous masterlist next

“Mr. Gojo, please don’t eat everything so quickly…” Your quiet voice is riddled with panic at you pat at the man’s back from your position next to him, his frame bent over to stuff his face with the berry tarts you had baked earlier that day for dessert. Upon his face were a pair of black-tinted glasses, his eyes peeking over them with stuffed cheeks, a red flush upon his face as watched you.

“I can’t help it—!” He stops to use his thumb to push a stray crumb onto his lips, his tongue peeking out to net in the remainders of your baking. “They’re so good!”

(Anything made by you is good, honestly.)

Sitting at one of the wooden tables with the rest of them, the guild hall empty save for Sylrel lighting the candles nearby. On the table sat dinner, mashed potatoes, grilled corn, mushroom stew with a helping of bread. In the corner sat a plate of your homemade berry tarts, which you hadn’t expected to steal the show this evening.

“I think you heard wrong, Satoru. She’s telling you stop being a damned glutton.” Shoko is utterly unimpressed as she shields her own tarts away just as the white-haired sorcerer reaches for her plate. “You already had 5!” She swipes her own plate up, turning her back to the man as she munches on them.

His attention is then turned towards you, all puppy-like in their glittering blue, a pout to match with his distress of not having more.

It’s unfortunate that you don’t have any more.

“Uhm—“ By the gods, whichever deity crafted that sugar-sweet face of his was going to be the death of you. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gojo… I didn’t bake extras.”

The almost whimper like sound he lets out makes your heart squeeze. “I apologise. I’ll put in the order for more ingredients next time…” Your hands are shaking with disappointment under your long sleeves, upset with your own lack of foresight. You didn’t expect them to love the treats you made with leftover stock of ingredients so good. Didn’t expect them to give them even the light of day compared to Sylrel’s cooking.

You feel your hand being tugged out and onto a warm palm as fingers playfully open and close around it.

“Stop calling me that!” He now sounds more upset than earlier, pout growing bigger as he interlinked his own fingers with yours, letting you feel how his rougher hand felt against your softer ones. “I don’t like being called that by you…”

The gears in your brain start turning, but don’t exactly click. Oh. He must be upset you’re still talking as if you were on the job despite it being long past your working hours. (Just like how Shoko was upset. Though, she was chattering away with you whilst you were still working…)

“I see. I will take note of this… Satoru.” He brightens up immediately. You seem to be right.

“Then I wish to be referred to by my first name as well.”

Ah, ah, ah. Geto Suguru’s first mistake was reminding the Gojo Satoru of his presence.

“Say, Suguru.” Fingers excitedly thrum against the wooden tabletop. “Ya got tarts leftover, right?”

“Don’t even think about it, you spoiled brat.”

“I killed the most gnolls!”

“Oh, yea? You didn’t count the ones in the cave, then.”

“Pfft, no way you got more kills than me! I blasted them all to oblivion!”

“Whilst almost killing us. Your spells don’t even go off properly half the time. Can you even call yourself a sorcerer?”

There’s a clattering of the wooden stool to the ground as the insulted sorcerer took a stand. “You trying to say something, Suguru?”

“No, but are you? Satoru.” Darkening auras and heightened tensions, the bated breaths as the atmosphere grew colder, more threatening as the heights of the pressure was just teetering on its climax.

“I’m not a part of this.” Her hands are going up to cup the ears hidden behind her hair as she scoots off her own seat, swiftly subtracting herself from the commotion so as to not be caught in the crossfire before hiding behind you.

Your throat clears as you let out a cough, the glowing shine of your hands a threat to both the gentlemen before you. “Please refrain from violence within the guild hall.”

“Yes, ma’am…”

——

Tales are meant to be told, to be sung about by bards even in the distant future, to be revered and remembered by many even when one’s soul has long departed from the mortal realm.

You should know this best, seeing how many young, hopeful, bright-eyed adventurers tumble into your humble guild hall, their footsteps upon the creaky wooden floorboards before excitedly slapping the flyer from the board onto your desk as you begin to recite its details, putting emphasis on the dangers and the cautions they must take as they wave you off with brighter grins and shining confidence, assuring you that they would be fine.

Only for them to never return ever again.

You hate it. Hate losing those mere children to this cruel world as you shakily hang up the quest once more a few weeks later, upon this dreadful board that seemed to be growing and growing with endless requests. Is there… Really no hope for this guild that Sylrel has tried so hard to keep afloat after all…?

That’s when they came. Tumbling into the guild hall as the white-haired sorcerer pulled at darker member’s long hair, his arm tight around the black-haired man’s neck as he squeezed, before there was retaliation, a kick to his shins that landed them both on the ground and rolling about on the carpeted wooden flooring of your workplace. There was blood, there were bruises, a few cracks but eventually you were the one to pull them apart, trapping them in shields as the brown-haired maiden waved and greeted you with unusual ease despite the situation.

Those three. As disagreeable and weird of a trio that they are, they have never failed to return to you. Sometimes scathed minimally when Shoko has run out of magic for the day, armor never failing to be reduced to practically nothing, but determination and excitement aglow even if they don’t complete fully complete a quest.

Adventurers with pure, unrelenting potential and drive. True survivalists that are ready to take on any challenge. In your eyes, they were nothing short of heroes.

But even they can’t save everyone.

Now, as you laid upon a bedroll, body unable to move, but sensation slowly willing you to crack open your eyes. Your skin no longer felt singed with burns and charred flesh, your legs no longer crushed, gored through with wooden beams, bones no longer pulverized into broken fractures.

Shoko was truly the finest of healers. How did you even know who were your saviors? Why, the scent of bergamot and nicotine was always an unusual combination.

You can’t eat, is what you realize. Not even a spoonful of the extremely watered down, minuscule specks of rice they had tried to feed you, vomit and acidic bile rising from your throat with every scoop that was attempted to feed your lifeless form laying upon the makeshift bed within their camp.

You’re more focused on the hurt, now that it’s all gone. Gone, destroyed. Yet your lowly self can do nothing but lay here as this wretched body of yours refuses to get up.

Everything was taken from you. Everything. Your home, your life, your family—

Sylrel.

Screams and echoes and crashes and shrieking and crying and pure chaos. You didn’t expect it, hadn’t even thought something of this caliber would happen. A sudden raid upon the lowly guild hall, fire, smoke, ash— The falling wooden beams, the cries for mercy by the young adventurers that tried to defend themselves—

You want to hurl.

Your protection magic wasn’t enough. You weren’t enough. Even when you focused so hard on saving everyone around, that you forgot about yourself.

The shattering of your shield around the cowering boy as the monstrous ogre decimated through, the poor victim reduced to nothing but a corpse as he was swiped up, his head separating from his body in a wet choke as your eyes started watering at the scene.

You didn’t have time to grieve. To wallow in your uselessness before the ceiling came crashing down, burnt rubble and charred wooden beams falling onto your fragile body, the crushing weight pushing on your lungs as you let out a scream, wood splints digging into the flesh of your crushed body and ripped dress. Your hands barely peeled out, swear that you could feel blood spewing out from every orifice.

Your head felt heavy, your eyesight growing bleary as a wood continued to burn and sear itself onto your skin, the smell of burnt flesh and meat and ash beginning to stink as you grow disgusted.

It’s too late for you. But— Sylrel— Where was she?!

“Sy—!” The smoke is choking your lungs as the last of your dying voice is used to call out to your blonde maternal figure. Your eyesight is growing bleary, your head growing blank. You’re dying. Perhaps it’s for the best, that you die here, where you were raised, where you served, where you failed.

There’s silence, before a wooden beam is lifted off of you to reveal your utterly broken state, there’s a revelation of how a sharp edge has stabbed through your middle, your stomach bleeding into the fabric of your uniform, your form impaled, broken, out of spells and absolutely ruined.

Sylrel has spotted you, alongside the horde of ogres right behind her. No. No! Sylrel!

You try to speak, to warn her but you can’t. You’re hanging onto life by a thread as it was. Why are you still trying…?

But strangely, she wasn’t attacked. The sight of her pained face and her gritted teeth, the shimmer of her tear streaked cheeks against the burning embers as her dress flittered about, the surrounding screams dying to nothing as you watched her mouth her final words to you.

“I’m sorry…!”

It was the last words you heard from your dear Sylrel before you heard a pained scream, the tearing of fabric, the crunch of bone and the stomping of feet before it all faded to black as the wooden beam was thrown back atop of you.

It makes you sweat, makes you worry, makes you cry, the fear, the anxiety and anxious hopelessness. You can’t hold it together.

You’re up. Your eyes snapping open as you feel alive, moving. Your limbs alike the anchors of ships as you struggle against your own body.

No. No. No! The guild, the people— The ogres, that army that stormed your precious home…!

Your legs are jelly, barely able to pick yourself off as you start to crawl to the entrance, hopeless anxiety and body fueled by pure adrenaline pushing you to move on, your trembling feet finally finding balance as you rip back the curtains, the cold night air and darkness of your surroundings disregarded, much like the stones and pebbles digging into your bare feet as you clumsily ran, only one thing mattered in your head now.

You don’t care about the sharp rocks stinging your bare feet. Don’t care about the unforgiving cold of the night air as it burns your exposed cheeks, don’t care about the shivers, the thin clothing that you adorned. Nothing else matters right now.

The guild. Sylrel— Survivors— Anything. You were holding onto this worthless hope that something could possibly still be there, that you could still protect what meant the most to you. That there was a chance to redeem your failure.

You catch glimpses, glances of your surroundings. Oak trees, tents, a put out fire… A campsite. This forest, that river… You know this place. You can’t be far off from the guild.

A signpost, a road. That’s all you need to find to make your way back.

You barely made it out the camp before you were intercepted, a breeze that was never there, a shiver that crawls your spine. That’s when you see it. Glowing red eyes that hissed from within the darkness, a snake, a creature. It’s body is large, shiny scales reflecting the moonlight as it slithers far too close, far too near. Revealing itself to your terrified eyes.

A Titanoboa. How? How?! You studied your surrounding areas for years…! There’s no way such creatures were within this biome!

Were you wrong all along? Have you studied for nothing? Was all you ever amounted to… Nothing? No. Focus. This isn’t the time for that. Magic— Why can’t you use it?!

Its very presence paralyzes you in fear, your breaths quickening with that resounding heart rate of yours, your own body freezing in place, hands barely sparking with the spells you were so used to casting, betraying your mind as it slithered its tail around you, legs immediately going limp as it coils around your body, acting as binds to hold you in place as you hear the low hisses. It has an oddly… Gentle touch. Unlike a wild beast seeking its next meal. Something is off.

Do your instincts… Simply not work like they used to?

“You shouldn’t be out here.” You recognise that voice. Suguru. He appears from within the shadows of the trees, hair down and weary eyes that seemed to be full of unadulterated concern. This beast must belong to him.

“Bring her towards me. Gently.” The serpent relents, uncoiling and gently plopping your form into the hold of its master as it lets out a low hiss, dismissing itself in a shroud of smoke.

“That— Thank you. I’m in a rush now, I’ll be ba—“ You shouldn’t be thanking him for staking his own summons against you, yet your frazzled mind can’t seem to comprehend anything as you push against the cage that was his sturdy arms.

…? His silence does little to appease the growing nausea in your stomach.

“Sug-Suguru— I-I need to go. Let go of me…!”

He remains silent. No. No. Nononononononono—

“No!” You’re surprised at the strength you still possess. “Let me go! I have to— I have to get back!” You’re panicked, absolutely terrified, kicking, punching, flailing against the grip of his arms around you as you try to get away.

“Suguru, please!” You’re starting to cry, to sob as you struggle against him. “I have to go back! Sylrel— She—!”

“(name).” His voice is kept soft, gently cutting you off as an even gentler hand tilts your cheek to face him, eye to eye with swirling, worried purple. “Please listen to me.”

No, you don’t want to listen. Don’t want to hear him say those words you had been begging, pleading to not have uttered to you. This isn’t real. This is a dream, right? A sick, twisted dream.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry

“There was—“ He sucks in a breath as he watches the tears streak down your cold cheeks, thumb tenderly wiping at a droplet from your face as you started to cry even harder. “Nothing left when we found you.”

I’m sorry there was nothing I could do.

“You—“ You hands grip onto the bundled fabric of his clothes. “You don’t understand!” You’re hyperventilating, sweaty and dizzy. “It was the only thing I had! It was the—!” Only thing you lived for. The only thing your life ever revolved around. You never wanted for more, never settled for less. That was you. Your life and everything it had achieved, crumbled into ash and dust.

Was there any meaning of you being alive then? Your tears slowly build up, drips and drops of them soaking into his shirt as you simply broke down. It’s over.

“It was the only thing I ever knew…” It was all you were good for. Your home, your comfort, you. It is— was the very essence of your being.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he can say, all he can offer you.

previous masterlist next

Notes:

*Titanoboa. Not apart of any fandom, and was very much real in the human world. An extinct species of snake that existed back in the dinosaur ages that will grow up to 40 feet long, or 12 metres for my readers who don’t follow the American metric system.

*Guild hall. Should have explained this sooner, but here we are. The place where adventurers, new and veteran alike congregate to accept quests from the public. Quest forms are filled in by the requesting villager, a reward is optional, but very much welcome by adventurers and proves to increase the chances of your problems being solved quicker. These quests are then looked through by receptionists, and subsequently hung up on a giant board for all to see that it is made available for taking. (Based off the system from Goblin Slayer)

*Ogre. Large, hulking giants. About 10 feet tall (3 metres) and around 300 kg, (660 lbs). Easily angered and easily one of the stupidest creatures who are able to speak and understand the human tongue. Quick to destroy, quick to hunger for flesh of any sorts, and are typically in hordes due to their natures of overwhelming enemies with sheer number. Not known to operate under commands of another species. (Paraphrased from Baldur’s Gate 3/Dungeons and Dragons.)

nvy’s aftertalk:

my back hurt after writing this

sorry this chapter is so boring witb no romance i’m doing my best to advance the plot :(

[dragonjadearts]

Who wants to hear me lore dump about my little guy?

Rusty is a kobold from deep in the Underdark. While actually from a little village called Ring's Hollow -- so named for silver translucent mushroom rings that grow in the area -- he often visited the nearby "big city" growing up. The city was called Iskternesj or "Star Stone" in draconic, named for the glittering mineral that made up the whole space, like sparkling starlight in the void. Towering spires of the curving, otherworldly black mineral arch and bend, creaking and whistling as dry winds from deep in the cavernous pit send gusts of cold air spiraling through. Homes and businesses are carved into the rocks, glowing from within with soft golden light -- although most prefer to remain in darkness, learning to ply their trade by touch and memory rather than sight. Treacherous rope bridges cross over the spires where kobolds leap and scamper in the shadows. In the center of the city, a sheer cliff-face stands, only a single narrow staircase carved into the ancient rock, crumbling and in ruins, leads to the very top. There, a great shadow dragon sits, idly swishing his tail and watching the citizens travel about their little lives. Rarely does he come down, barking orders from above for new conquests, new territory, more, more, more. His red eyes always watching. Always.

------

click for better quality

if you like it, PLEASE REBLOG IT

[elbiotipo]

Like in most starships, and indeed like in any kind of ships through history, the mess hall was the heart of the Johann Sebastian Mastropiero. Of course, most of the rest of the ship was propellant tanks, engines, and cargo bays. But what truly mattered was this place, this sacred place with food and drink where the crew could relax after a long day sailing the aether. They were the ones who kept this old bird flying, they were the lifeblood of the Mastropiero, and the mess hall was its heart. At least according to the crew themselves. The cargo's insurance was probably higher than theirs after all.

“Mess hall” might also have been a grandiose name for it. It was basically a table, some especially uncomfortable chairs bolted to it so they didn't flew away in 0g, several handles to walk through while in freefall, an old booth that seemed -and probably was- taken from an abandoned fuel space station, an old fridge/hydroponics combo, some kitchen essentials like an electric kettle and oven, and a counter bearing the scars of poorly prepared food, because you get tired of instant guiso and mushroom chips after a while.

It was Human spacer tradition for the Captain to have a last dinner with the passengers before landing at the destination, so never mind the mess, in a way, the mess hall also needed to show the ship's history. And it did, with the pictures hanging on the paneling. A faded photograph of the crew during the Machine War, and then newer ones, an old captain giving a thumbs up at a newly repainted ship, a group of people wearing smokings doing a comedy sketch, Beto as a kid sitting on the commands with the hat on, an asado under three moons that legend has it bring good luck, and more. The latest picture was just next to the oldest one, with a lanky, angular-faced human male with a mate gourd on hand, a small shark-like girl wearing sunglasses and doing a peace sign, and a cactus-like man with his leaves in a sarcastic attitude, under that same sky as the three lucky moons.

Freefalling, and yet somehow looking busy while at it, Beto arrived at the mess hall to heat up water for the mate and start up his morning shift. As he rubbed his eyes he saw Ragua hanging by her squalene tail on a handle in the "ceiling", her headphones at a high enough volume to tell she was listening to Hermética. Siusini was sitting conspicuously in the center of the booth table -not that he needed to eat anyways-, while holding a bunch of crystals around him that reflected on his leaves in beams of focused light, like glittering rainbows. Beto wondered if Pink Floyd would perhaps be a better soundtrack in this case.

"Mornin', people." Beto yawned as he turned on the kettle, his weightless body hanging as he waited for the water to heat up -not boil, this was mate after all.

"MORNIN', BETO!" Ragua said from the ceiling, her voice more high-pitched than usual, perhaps because of her usual excitement, perhaps because of the metal screaming that seemed to envelop her. Siusini's chromoplasts shifted into a greeting hue.

"What are you listening to, Ragua?" Beto asked as the water began to heat.

"It's that music you told me about last night!" She answered, perhaps a bit offended that Beto didn't notice. "I love it, though some lyrics are hard to understand..." She noted. Beto nodded thoughtfully. He was amazed at how quickly she had picked up Rioplatense Spanish in any case.

"Yeah, I told you, they talk a bit about the things that happen in my history tapes..."

"Of course you like them because of that." She grinned while narrowing her eyes playfully. For various reasons, perhaps because she was part of it, history just didn't sit well with her. "But that's the fun part. The voices go... like all low and deep like yours..." Ragua did a frighteningly good rendition of Ricardo Iorio, "...and then it goes all like YEEEEEEAHHHH." Ragua did an even more frightening impression of Claudio O'Connor. Beto just smiled, amused.

"I don't sing like that."

"You don't sing. At all." Ragua teased back.

"Shut up." Beto said. It was true, he couldn't sing at all.

"But what I like the most is the controls." Ragua continued as the album rocked on, her fins shifting to the music.

"You mean instruments?" Beto corrected her word use, helpfully.

"Yeah! Those! It's just so AWESOME... Like, I love the sound, the noise, it feels like when prey moves on the ocean, when you're about to just bite on it? You know? So nice." She said, a bit too giddy, kicking her finned legs against the ceiling.

"That's cool man." Beto answered in a monotone as he poured water on the thermos. 

Perhaps not wanting to awaken her predatory instincts, he turned to Siusini.

"What about you, you finally gave up engineering to become a table decoration?" Beto bantered in friendly confidence. Siusini didn't seem to listen through his sound translator. His leaf patterns shifted in ways that were difficult even for the experienced Beto to decipher.

"Sius'?" He asked again. The chromoplasts reacted.

"GOOD DAY BETO." The patterns of colors said. Beto knew how to read them, and he'd better, since Siusini was his engineer after all. Not a good relationship for miscommunications.

"Testing out the crystals you bought the other time?" Beto said while pouring himself a mate.

"RIGHT."

"Are they, uh, good?" Beto asked, not sure how to put it.

"VERY GOOD." the leaves answered, as Siusini shifted the crystals to what Beto assumed was a more pleasant light show for him.

Beto sipped his second -always the best one, after the yerba is settled- mate of the morning and watched the crystals dance in Siusini's tendrils. Being a heterotroph himself, Beto didn't quite get what was so interesting about the focusing crystals that many photosynthetic species enjoyed, but visually, they were very striking.

"You know." Beto said with his usual curiosity, "You never quite told me what does that light show feels, exactly." Siusini's color shifted to one of amusement, and Beto sighed, wondering what he was gonna say.

"EXPLAINING IS DIFFICULT. WE HAVE TALKED ABOUT THIS." the leaves said.

"Oh come on. You can explain how a dark-energy inductor works, but not that?" Beto bantered back, knowing he won the argument.

"WILL TRY THEN." Siusini said, his color still in an ironic hue.

The communication leaves of Siusini shifted a bit in some patterns Beto didn't recognize. "IT IS LIKE. GOOD FOOD. VERY GOOD FOOD. NARCOTICS[?]. [?]."

Beto blinked a couple times, trying to understand. The last two patterns looked familiar, but... Then he noticed Siusini's leaves and tendrils shifting in a rather strange way... and he groaned.

"You dirty motherflower, I shouldn't have asked..." Beto groaned again in the tone of someone defeated while Siusini's leaves shone brighter in their amused state. He just grabbed his thermos and mate and decided to go to the cockpit.

Ragua, always up for some good gossip but who wasn't keeping up with the conversation because of her headphones, followed Beto with a teasing smile. "Wait, wait, what did Sius’ say?" she asked.

"Never mind, you don't wanna know." Beto said as he made his way to the cockpit.

"Come on, tell me, what was it?!"

"Ragua, no."

"COME ON, TELL ME!" Ragua insisted as she hovered on 0g after him, grabbing his leg while he grumbled. "BETITO, COME ON, TELL ME, WAS IT FUNNY? I KNOW IT WAS FUNNY!" She was not gonna let it go and he knew it. But never mind, first it was time to do trajectory corrections and get to work.

And so, another day started in the good spaceship Mastropiero, 614 years after Gagarin.

[archaic-stranger]

aesthetic for @chaotic-necrobotanist

velvet fabric, rich and smooth against your skin

mushrooms growing under a moss-covered tree

finding unusual beauty in the cycle of death, decomposition, and return to the earth

rings glittering on your hands

carrying a small sketchbook in your pocket, a pencil tucked behind your ear

mehendi or pen scribbles on your hands

sitting by a grave marker, acknowledging a life that no longer exists

the feeling of moss under your feet

an old cemetary, grown quiet and peaceful with time

an overflowing jewelry box

long-ago words engraved in stone, barely legible

an innate comfort with yourself and your own company

learning to identify plants and fungi where you live

the rich brown of newly turned soil

seeking out kindred spirits, people who make you feel at home

a moth's wings, intricate patterns spiraling into one another

[zriviepotions]

Superior Blizzard

2 oz sea buckthorn-inflused gin*

2/3 oz myrtle-calendula simple syrup**

1/4 oz lemon juice

3-4 dashes fee brothers foam OR 1 egg white

4-5 drops mossy mushroom bitters***

Pinch of blue spirulina

Pinch of green edible glitter

Tonic

Combine gin, simple syrup, lemon juice, fee foam, blue spirulina, and glitter in a shaker. Shake with ice for ~1 minute and strain liquid into glass. When there is only foam left in the shaker, add mossy mushroom bitters and shake for a few more seconds before straining the foam into the glass. Top with tonic.

*combine ~1tbsp dried sea buckthorn berries and ~8oz of your favourite gin in a jar. Let sit for 4-5 days, shaking occasionally.

**combine ½ c water and ½ c sugar in a small saucepan. 2-3 tablespoons dried calendula petals and 1-2 tablespoons dried myrtle leaves. Heat on medium-high until sugar is dissolved, then turn off heat and let it sit covered for a  few hours.

***I don’t have exact measurements for this, but here’s the basic gist; Start with 151 proof spirit and add a 10-mushroom powder blend, oakmoss, usnea, and cedar wood shavings. Let it infuse for 2-3 weeks, shaking daily. Strain, bottle, and done!

I’m really excited about the way these mossy mushroom bitters turned out! For some reason I just love anything that tastes like a wet forest. The sea buckthorn and myrtle give this a nice bright flavor to balance out the wet forest undertone xx

[snakemoltsiren]

Severine Sauvageot - Character Associations

EMOTIONS/FEELINGS

Love (An ember ever glowing. Worth protecting. Don’t give it away.)

Possessiveness (Give everything away but that. Never that.)

Exaltation (Breathless, exhilarating, make this last.)

Regret (Was I sweet once?)

Disorientation (Didn’t we already go this way?)

COLORS

Blue (Muted and distinct and natural.)

Lilac (Something comforting like a fading bruise.)

Silver (Brushed and gleaming and catching light like a smile.)

Moss Green (Damp and earth and the smell of life.)

Red (Vibrant and livid but it doesn’t suit her so much anymore.)

SCENTS

Clove (Smoky and sweet, clinging to her hair like a secret.) 

Oranges (A burst of oil from a fresh curl of peel, juices sticky on the skin.)

Wet Earth (Moss and damp, the undersides of things.)

Soap (Clean and fresh.)

Ash. (Something was burning.)

OBJECTS

Sea Glass. (Smooth and pitted in every color. )

Pince-nez. (Reflective lenses never far away. Protection and defense.)

Ribbons and twine. (Decorative or practical. Things that bind.)

Forget-me-nots. (Left wild, blossoms stuck to skin and tangled in hair.)

A hidden blade. (Defense, protection, practicality. Please don’t make me use it.)

BODY LANGUAGE

Tongue curled around a pointed tooth (A shared secret, a remembered story.)

A gentle pinch on the arm. (Hello, I’m here, you’re here, I’m happy to see you.)

Forehead touch. (Tender greeting or friendly gentle concussion.)

Twitchy little smiles. (What exactly does that look mean?)

Fully Weighted Lean. (Against a convenient wall, unsuspecting friend or while sitting.)

AESTHETICS

Snakes. (Renewal, life, observing from a distance. Will only strike in defense.)

Low tide. (Her aether. Too little - far less than it has been in the past.)

Breeze through windchimes. (A ruffling presence that is rarely seen and never lingers, although it leaves an impression.)

Mercury Glass in the sun. (Clear and glittering but obscured and hiding secrets. Complicated.)

Mushrooms in a mossy forest. (Resiliently minding their own business. Friend or foe?)

tagged by - @ahollowgrave - Thank you!! <3

tagging - @shroudandsands @whitherwanderer @honoura/@aidan-hawke @the-hawkeyes - anyone else!!

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Jade and Finn enjoy a moment in the forest together

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ��️)

Beautiful

The feeling of grass under his feet was like heaven on earth.

Finn gazed silently at the lush green blades, awed. Soft and cold, the sweet grass tickling at his toes made his brain tingle in delight.

How ironic. He hated the feeling of sand, the dreadful rough, coarse stuff that always managed to worm its way into places he didn't know he had. Sand, abundant in his home, left such a sour taste in his mouth.

But grass? A notable land feature? It was a pleasant sensation.

"I see you're enjoying yourself over there."

Finn turned his head to see Jade entering the clearing he was standing in with his arms full of jars filled with the various flora and fauna of the forest.

Jade looked positively delighted, smiling brightly as he placed the jars and his large bag on the ground.

"Prefer the grass over sand, then?" The eel asked, tilting his head. "You look happy."

Finn nodded his head and padded over to where Jade was standing, sighing.

"It's nice." He murmured. "Soft. Quiet. I like it here."

He gazed at the shaded clearing they had decided to rest in. Soft glittering sunlight streamed through the trees, and a gentle breeze made leaves rustle and grass away, joining the music caused by a bubbling creek.

The calls of various birds and insects sounded from all around them, and a sweet smell filled the air.

It was serene.

Jade unzipped his bag, pulled out a large blanket, and rolled it onto the grass.

"Come. Sit." He insisted. "It's lunchtime."

Finn rolled his eyes. It was barely noon. Nonetheless, he humoured his partner and sat down across from him.

"You're awfully impatient. It's only eleven-thirty."

Jade's smile was placid and unbothered.

"For your food, darling, I can never wait." He said sweetly, taking a large container of food and some flasks from the bag.

"It's only sandwiches and tea," Finn said softly. "Papa sent up the meat."

Jade simply chuckled. "True, but every little thing you make should be served to a prince."

Finn's cheeks warmed, and he busied himself with staring at the creek.

"Don't say stupid things like that." He mumbled. "A prince won't eat sandwiches."

"Not unless it's yours." Jade teased, laughing when Finn covered his face with his hands. "Here, just grab something to eat."

To the surmise of absolutely nobody, both of them reached for the sliced meat first. The meat was cut so beautifully and tasted so delicious it was almost unreal. Finn was delighted his father sent some up, as were his three parasites - uh, boyfriends.

Sharp teeth tore through the flesh of raw fish easily, allowing an explosion of flavour to burst forth. One would expect it to taste salty, but Finn's father truly had a gift with flavour.

They ate in comfortable silence, happy to simply enjoy each other's company and admire the scenery.

"Oh!"

Finn shifted his gaze away from the gentle creek to find Jade staring at something with wide eyes.

"...Yes?"

"It's pink deathcaps!' Jade exclaimed, a positively delighted smile crossing onto his face. He began shuffling through the bag for his camera and notebook, mumbling about how rare this was.

Finn smiled and closed his eyes, humming in acknowledgement to Jade's words.

At first, Finn had little interest in mushrooms, but after listening to Jade's excited ramblings about them, he realised they were beautiful and horrifying little things. Nowadays, it was not uncommon to find them in his paintings, whether it be a few in the background or a wave of mycelium engulfing his main piece.

Jade, positively beaming in excitement, scribbled in his notebook and posted the surprisingly high quality Polaroid he had taken inside.

"Come look!"

Sighing, Finn shuffled across the blanket so he was next to Jade, squinting.

"Where?"

Jade, much to Finn's surprise, locked their fingers together and used his free hand to point at a large tree.

There, sprouting out of one of the branches, was a sizable group of pink deathcap mushrooms.

"Aren't they beautiful?"

Finn nodded. His head slowly turned to face Jade.

Sunshine bathed the eel's face in a gentle golden light, catching the glittering gold and olive of his excited eyes and the teal of his hair. His lips, shiny and soft, were pulled into a wide smile that showed off viciously sharp teeth. His voice, warm and deep, was like music.

"Yes." Finn whispered, unable to tear his gaze away. "Beautiful."

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

A/N:.I hope you liked this one! Finn and Floyd's is up next <3

Tagging: @distant-velleity @krenenbaker @whspermy-name @theleechyskrunkly @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @the-banana-0verlord @kitwasnothere

[cilil]

I don't know if you take random prompts, but... Irmo inventing hallucination mushrooms with Melkor 😂❤️

AN: I do and I apologize for taking so long - TRSB and S&D kept me busy for a while. Anyway, this was a really fun idea and I hope you enjoy this silly little thing😂💜

๑ Characters/relationship(s): Melkor & Irmo ๑ Synopsis: Melkor shows off one of his favorite creations - mushrooms! Irmo, fascinated by these strange new things, has a few ideas. ๑ Warnings: I guess this falls under drug use (kind of)? XD ๑ Short oneshot

"And what can they do?" Irmo pokes the colourful mushroom in front of him, giggling when it bounces back. 

"A better question would be what mushrooms can't do," Melkor says proudly and places another pot on the ground, containing a decaying piece of wood and more mushrooms growing on it. 

"Oh?" Irmo resumes his tactile examination of the wondrous new things he has just discovered; it appears as though the squishy texture provides him with endless delight and entertainment, Melkor notices, pleased with himself. 

"Simply put, mushrooms can grow everywhere and eat everything," he explains. "All they need are a few adjustments depending on what their purpose is supposed to be." 

"Are they like plants?"

"No." Melkor's chest swells with pride; even though part of him despises this question, insinuating that he might depend on the works of Yavanna to make his own, he secretly hoped Irmo would ask - now he gets to explain the true ingeniousness of his creations. 

"They are neither plants nor animals, they are their own kind. It may appear as though they are similar to plants, but they feed on organic substances like animals do. Some help with decay, like the ones here... some may be parasites, some may be symbiotes... I have been experimenting with different types." 

Irmo nods along. "And what about us eating them?" 

Melkor grins. "Well... you can eat them, but some only once." 

"Are they that rare?" 

He has to stop himself from laughing in response to such a naive question, paired with the wide innocence of Irmo's bright purple eyes. 

"No, but some are poisonous." 

The younger Vala pouts. "Námo and Estë won't like that." 

"Námo and Estë will have to accept that not all of my mushrooms want to be eaten." 

The response seems to placate him for the moment, and Irmo picks a mushroom to nibble on it. Melkor stares at him in disbelief, wondering if he either instinctively knew which one to try or if he was just that unbothered by his previous statement. Vala or not, some of his prototypes could have made his fána quite sick. 

Irmo looks up at him, chewing thoughtfully. "But what if it was pink," he muses, "or purple. Or if it emitted glitter when it gets poked or if it made me see things or if it made me feel nice –"

"What are you talking about?" 

"I was just wondering..." 

Ignoring the older Vala's frown, he picks up one of the pots. "May I? Please?" 

Melkor hates being questioned. He usually isn't amenable to suggestions of others either – but Irmo's ideas are so odd and outlandish that he finds himself intrigued nevertheless. What a Fëantur could even want with living things such as his mushrooms is also a bit of a mystery to him; but then again, the younger of the two has always been known to find more delights in the physical world than his brother, his strange penchant for gardening and working as a healer alongside his wife being just two of many examples. 

And so Melkor sits down next to him and listens as he begins to hum a tune, cradling the pot to his chest. They remain like this for a while, one singing, one observing the change in his creations, until Irmo ends his song with a joyful squeal. 

"I am done!" he proclaims. "Our very own marvellous, magical, for-good-mood-only mushrooms!" 

Melkor is already in the process of opening his mouth to correct him when he realises that he said "our". Briefly, he wonders whether such a statement is still an affront to his claim of ownership, but he knows he has to concede that Irmo has put a lot of work into these. Today, he decides, he'll be generous.

The mushrooms Irmo is holding are now light purple, with a few pink and blue ones in-between, their caps have cute dots on them and Melkor is pretty sure their spores would glitter if he poked them.

Irmo offers him the pot. "Try eating one."

"Only if you tell me what they are supposed to do first."

"But I did! I told you I want them to make us feel good and see things." 

"Fine," Melkor grumbles and takes one, watching Irmo enthusiastically consume a handful. 

The first surprise is that they don't taste like cotton candy. The second surprise comes when he begins to feel dizzy, then light, then strangely euphoric. 

Has Irmo's and Estë's garden always been so bright and colourful? Melkor's musings are occasionally interrupted by the Fëantur's quiet giggles as he somehow manages to spin around while remaining seated, seemingly untethered from silly earthly things like gravity.

"See how pretty it looks?" Irmo exclaims, rejoicing. "Now everything can be like a dream, even if you are awake! Is it not lovely?" 

Amused and bemused alike, Melkor nods. Whatever these mushrooms are doing to his fána may not exactly be safe, but since when has being the voice of reason been his job? He'll leave that to Námo, should they end up incurring the ire of the elder Fëantur with their shenanigans – or Estë. 

For reasons inexplicable even to himself, he laughs at the thought. They may come if they so choose, but he's in such a good mood that he might be willing to share. After all, his mushrooms – their mushrooms – seem to be a success, one he will be delighted to relay in great detail the next time Yavanna and Vána complain to him about death and decay. 

Irmo has begun to roll around in the grass, and Melkor takes another purple mushroom. Surely even the other Valar would have to agree that something created in collaboration with one of them, something that contains such boundless joy could hardly be evil?

Thanks for reading!♡

Read more? main masterlist Get tagged for my writing? tag list form

taglist: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot @wandererindreams

[atbussysparks]

As the official southern scout irl, here's some 💯% accurate headcanons 🦅🦅🦅🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲

His body rejects his French blood like it's a disease so he has a constant stomach ache

1/4 Jewish and 1/4 Mexican. He was really pale before the war

His mom is totally Fran Drescher.

ADHD, and has an Oral fixation. If you told him that he'd go "huhuhuh, oral."

Coughed up blood on three separate occasions and coughed up glitter once

He has a metric shit ton of vintage comics, but he's dyslexic

He keeps pinups on his ceiling and everytime pyro barges into his room he has to shove them into a hole in the ceiling like it's fuckin fahrenheit 451

Owns a crust jacket that got hit with a firework and caught on fire at one point.

If cut open his organs glow BRIGHT green. He makes engineers Geiger counter go crazy

Does a ridiculous Beavis impression

Randomly does ballet poses just because he can. He also cannot do actual ballet.

Got sent to a troubled teens camp for two years until he was 14 and his mom and brothers busted him out, and the facility ate shit seven years later and he drank absinthe to celebrate.

Eats random shit he shouldn't eat. He ate a car mirror disco ball. He ate a lovebug. He gnawed on the edge of a table. There was a pinecone found in his stomach before respawning. Where the fuck did he get a pinecone??? THEYRE IN THE DESERT

When he was 9 he Got stuck in one of his brothers' lowrider after it flipped over For 13 minutes. His brother flipped it back over and They never talked about it again

Tried to microwave a bag of gummy worms to make one big "wormo gum" it caught on fire

Sniper asked him if he wanted some marmite and got tackled for saying "marmite? But pa might not!"

Fucking loves mushrooms. It has to be spelled out when talking about it so he doesn't freak out. Someone has to distract scout if someone else is making mushrooms

Got lost in the rain with one of his brothers for FOUR HOURS in his PJs. Still made it in time for a doctor's appointment.

He thinks medics trying to put bombs in him

If scout coughs or laughs or trains too hard he gets violent pains in his side torso, and has to sit and breathe for a bit. Spy, medic, and heavy notice the most. Spy can't bring themself to stay in the room when they see it. Heavy lays his hand on his chest to weigh him down, and stop him from trembling. Medic asks him if he "wants some good strain"

He wants some good strain but detests smoking. He and medic have tried desperately to attain edibles.

Banned from wearing short-shorts because his dumbass can't act right. Refuses to sit legs closed. Brags about his buff fucking linebacker legs. He gets fish-hooked by the leg skin in battle. He ate a pair because he lost a bet.

Can't sleep around box fans because he heard they can kill you

Soldier opened the doors to the shower once and found scout in there, fully clothed, as a huge cloud of red/black smoke billowed out of the room and blinded him. He never found out wtf happened in there. The only time he asked scout just said "my bad, you peeped the horrors." he never asked again.

Lactose intolerant but desperately in love with mac n cheese. That might actually be the reason why his stomach hurts.

Joined the gravel wars when he was actually 19 but letting that get out would get him killed, because the higher ups are only allowed to hire people 25 and up. So, he turned 21 he told everyone he turned 27.

Watched cujo and he cried for the dog, because he has a huge saint Bernard at home

Probably kins cujo because he had rabies

His hat (called a fisherman or fiddle that btw) has has the word "gorm" and a picture of Garfield embroidered on the inside

Wears a giant fuckin muumuu to sleep. No matter where he is or what's going on, if he's wearing the muumuu he can sleep.