#the mushrooms are hiding behind the trees in the garden in the shadows

[thelien-art]

Melkor writing his book in the fourth age Valinor; inspired by @foxindarkness fanfiction: "Build Up A New Us"

This started as a sketch last week when I was rereading it and then I just got gripped by it, then I added a background and I didn´t hate it, so I had to make Melkor himself more detailed and I liked it enough to want to show people, also everyone who hasn´t read it yet? What are you doing? Go check it out, it is my favorite fanfiction EVER!

[huffle-dork]

Swap into the CrystalVerse Chapter 7: Paranormal Preteens

Co-written with @crystalninjaphoenix 

Read Swapboys | Read PNPT | AO3 Link

Prologue | Switch | Stitched Taglist: @brokentimewatch  

After that split second of falling, Bro lands on a sidewalk. Looking around, he sees a street lined with near-identical houses with small yards, some with fences, some with trees, some with gardens. The sun is high in the sky but the air is cold, and patches of snow linger in the shadows. This is clearly a British suburb on a clear winter day. And it is clearly not familiar. A bit after he arrives, he hears the door to the house behind him open.

Bro rights himself and then tries to suppress a shiver. Oh god- he's in a thin jacket and tank top and ripped jeans. "Fuckkk why is it winter here??" He mutters to himself.

He takes stock of where he is and then notices the others aren't with him but he sighs and nods, "Alright well- def a pattern now... gotta go find the cat bitch and Alt then-"

He then blinks as he hears a door open behind him.

When he turns around, he sees a boy--twelve, thirteen years old?--running towards him. "Da--" the boy starts to say, then stops. And stops running. "Oh. Sorry, I uh, thought you were someone else," he mumbles. He's wearing a snapback cap, a graphic tee, and (insanely enough) shorts.

In the open doorway of the house behind him Bro can see another kid. Sort of. He's hiding in the way kids do when they think you can't see the upper half of their faces sticking out. Most of him is tucked behind the door but he has brown hair and big round glasses.

Bro jumps slightly at the kid running towards him but then stops. He blinks and then laughs. Damn… this kid looks just like he did at his age. “Oh uh- hey little dude! Uh… sorry-“ He awkwardly messes with his hair.

“Hey Um- strange question but… do you know what... city this is?”

The boy looks a bit confused, but accepts the question. "Uh, Hollewych. You mean you don't know where you are? Do you have amnesia?" Like on TV?

Bro knits his eyebrows together. Yeah... definitely not home. "Uh- nope! Still got all my memories just- god it’s a long story... probably too much to explain to a couple of kids." He shivers at the cold breeze and then huddles his jacket around him. He looks around and realizes he probably shouldn't be flying around- that'd just make him colder. "Uh well- thanks kids... sorry to bother ya. I better go... find someplace warm..."

"Uh... oka--" Suddenly something clatters to the ground. A pencil. The kid hiding in the doorway threw a pencil at the boy. He stares at it, then picks it up and turns around.

"Uh, one second... sir." The 'sir' is an awkward afterthought, like he's not used to it. He quickly runs back to the open doorway and starts talking with the kid out of sight.

Bro's super hearing allows him to hear what they're saying, but it's not making sense.

"Ask him why he appeared in thin air!"

"What? No, I'm not gonna do that! What if he gets mad?"

"So? What if he walks away? We could have a very small chance."

"You wanna do it without anyone else?"

"If there is a very small chance! You can call them on your handy if we need to."

"That is not the word, Schneep. Don't you know that by now?"

"It is a hand phone! It does not shorten like that?"

"No!"

"Fine, fine, just go back and talk to him. But be careful. It might be like the mushrooms."

The boy sighed, then ran back over to Bro. "Hey, uh, my cousin says he saw you kinda pop up out of nowhere. Did you?"

Bro tilts his head as he listens to the boys. Then, he laughs. Henny calls it a handy too... does the other kid have an accent? Huh... he could be a little Schneep- he can see it. Though, way more awkward. Henny was out of time but he was charismatic as fuck-

He's lost in his own thoughts before he sees the first boy come back up. Then, he pales a bit and blinks slowly. "Uh... you two... saw that?" ...fuck of course that's what jumping dimensions looks like-

"I didn't, but my cousin did," the boy says. "And he doesn't lie. I mean, I've been trying to teach him how to pull pranks, but he doesn't really wanna so far." He pauses awkwardly. "So... what's up?"

Bro lifts up his head to look back at the boy with the glasses. Then he sighs and messes with his hair. "Uh... i guess... i can try to explain- but... it's- it's gonna sound a little insane..."

"I mean, you kinda just appeared, that's already crazy," the boy points out.

Bro pauses and then laughs, "Alright, touche! ... do you read comic books, kid?"

"Nnnno, but I watch a lot of shows about superheroes. My favorite is Ben 10. Oh, and I have a friend who really likes comics, too."

"You know what? that works- so you know when superheroes sometimes travel to worlds that are similar to theirs but also different? and they sometimes meet people who are them- but also not them? ...did that happen in ben 10? that sounds like something out of ben 10... wait- ben 10 hasn't been around for a long time... what year is it??" Bro rambles, finally asking his last question with wide eyes.

"It's 2008--no, crap, 2009," the boy says, looking Bro over. "And yeah, that happens, kinda. You mean like a parallel universe? Is that where you're from?" His eyes widen. "Oh! What's your name?!"

Bro's eyes widen even more and he whispers quietly, "...holy fuck im in the past too..?" Then he shakes it off though he's still in shock but he laughs, "Yeah exactly. I... I'm from one of those." He grins and adjusts his hat. "M'name's Chase Brody, kid! Whatcha call yourself?"

The boy's eyes widen further so Bro can see the whites all around. Then he breaks into a grin. "That's my name too!" he shouts, jumping up and down.

Chase looks surprised but then grins wide, "Well what are the odds? Heya little me! ... you're even littler than i was in 2008 i think-" He looks up as he tries to do the math and then nods, "Yup- def younger."

"Holy crap! Sch—Henrik!" He spins around and runs back to the open door, where he forcibly grabs the kid hiding behind the doorway and pulls him out, talking all the while. "Schneep, you're a nerd, you'll like this, he's me! He's me from a parallel universe! One that's in the future, I think, and I think it has superheroes cause he's dressed like that and he was talking about them—Hey, this is my cousin Henrik!" The little Chase grins. "He's great!"

The little Henrik looks a bit freaked out and more than a little overwhelmed, but he waves at Bro anyway. "Hallo."

Bro blinks as Chase drags out his cousin and tilts his head at him. Then he grins real wide. "Oh it has more than just superheroes dude- you guys wanna see something cool?"

"Yes!" Chase nods excitedly. "Yeah yeah yeah!" Schneep doesn't say anything, but he looks intrigued.

Bro digs into his pocket and pulls out his mask- and as he slips it on his hair flares into a bright yellow green. Then, with a huge grin he steps back, then rises up just a few feet in the air, crossing his arms. "I'm a superhero! Name's Bro Fantastic!"

"Oh my gosh!" The kids are completely blown away. "Sch—Henrik, look! Look, he's flying!" Chase is shaking Schneep slightly in excitement. "I grow up to be a superhero in another universe!"

"How are you doing that?" Schneep gasps.

"Because he's a superhero, bro! Oh that's so cool!"

"I—ja, that is—oh wait!" Schneep shook his head, clearing it. "Then—then if you are a superhero from another world, how are you here? And why?"

Bro takes a few more seconds to hover before he feels the chill even stronger and then he touches back down, stuffing his cold hands in his pockets. ...did he have a rip in his shirt where he got injured earlier? ...well that would explain why he's even colder than he thought he'd be.

He messes with his hair with a sigh, "mmmm thats also a long story but- basically. We got a bad guy I fight- and he wants to see other worlds but... not for nice reasons. So- me and my brother, his name is Alt, we gotta try to stop him. Cuz that's what heroes do!" He frowns, "The only problem is- whenever we get somewhere new... we end up separating... so now i gotta look for those two. Anddd since you guys were pretty amazed by me- I'm guessing there's no one who flies on a regular basis around here, huh?"

"No." Schneep shakes his head.

"Oh what about that thing Marvin does with the—"

"That is not flying, Chase, it does not count." Chase pauses. "What about An—"

"That is just floating," Schneep interrupts, already knowing what he's going to say. "He does not fly, it is like...hovering."

"Fine." Chase puts his hands on his hips and looks at Bro. "I mean... no one flies, but we have weird stuff around here all the time. There's uhh... there was a monster in the pool one time. And a big crazy dog. And there are holes in the ground that lead to somewhere else, we're still figuring those out. But like... no one really notices a lot of the stuff. We know, though, and so do a couple of our friends."

"ah well then- probably not good to fly around then. Don't wanna alert the mystery gang~" He gently teases. But, he also means it too. These are just kids... they dont need to get wrapped up in their business. ...Mag has hurt kids in the past. Like Ollie... he's not gonna let that happen to these guys. Though- "wow- thats... a lot of weird stuff though. Supernatural i guess?" He makes a face as he thinks. "Or... magic. which would... not be good- man how would Mag even react if we came somewhere with no magic...?" He muses to himself. Then he blinks and gets back on track. "Well uh... i probably shouldn't take too much of your guys's time- and its cold out here. You could get sick so- I better get walking to find my guys..."

"Mag's the villain, then?" Chase says. "Oh, uh, you don't have to go yet. If you showed up by us, maybe your guys showed up by some of our friends?" Schneep nods. "Maybe."

"I can call them!" Chase says. "I have a cell phone! It's inside. And, uh... it's also warm inside. So you could, uh... warm up for a little bit... before going out again..."

"You could say you are a relative on Chase's dad's family," Schneep suggests. "Our—his mom would not know them all. Und it was Christmas a couple weeks ago, you could be late for visiting."

Bro shifts a bit uncomfortably at this, looking around. Ahhh he hates lying but- it is... really cold. and his clothes are ripped. And- well yeah they had been appearing around their counterparts it seemed. "... lying isnt really something heroes do but uh... I am really cold. uh- sure. Okay- if its cool with you little dudes."

Chase visibly brightens. "Yeah! Mom won't even notice, she's working right now! Come on!" He grins and runs back to the house's open door.

Schneep walks after him, slower. "I think heroes can lie sometimes," he says. "If a bad guy wants to know something they cannot know. Like that. You are very..." He pauses, looking for the word. "You are like on TV. Cartoons. You can be more than that with us. This is real life."

Bro starts to follows them, respectfully listening to Henrik and giving him his full attention. He smiles warmly. " You know what, dude? That's a very good point! You're pretty wise for such a little kid. Though- you're older than my friend Jackie's kids. Maybe a couple years will make em as smart as you~"

"Heheh." Schneep grins. "Thank you." Then, as the walk into the house, he looks thoughtful and says, "You have a friend named Jackie? We do too. Maybe they are the same in other worlds."

"Oh yeah- I guess that's probably right... dang- hard to imagine a littler Jackie. I met him when we were like 20!" Bro laughs. He then sighs at the feeling of warmth in the house and tries to shake off the cold. "oooh thats so much betterrrr~!"

"Mom insisted on getting heating and air conditioning when we moved in," Chase says. "It didn't have it at first. Anyway. Do you wanna snack or something?"

"She's a wise woman- remember having to convince my aunts for those when I moved to England." He laughs. Then his eyes get big and he grins. "Oh hell yeah dude im starving! whatcha got?"

"Uhh I dunno! A lot of stuff. Come on, I'll show you!" Chase grins at him, then hurries into the kitchen, Schneep right behind him.

Bro shares his grin and hurries after them. Man- he remembers 2008 snacks being really good-

After Alt's brief fall, he finds himself in one of the worst places to ever be... a high school. It's a hallway lined with white lockers and the occasional doorway. One end led to a corner, while the other led to a T-intersection. A couple teenagers in school uniforms walked past the intersection, not even bothering to look at the glitching stranger who'd just appeared.

And then a classroom door opened. A boy with a red hoodie over his uniform walked out, a knit beanie pulled tight over his head. He turned--right towards Alt. And nearly dropped the textbook he was holding. "Holy shit."

Alt blinks at his surroundings and then glitches slightly in panic. Is this- a fucking high school?? oh my god- he hasn't been in a school since... since the day he- He instinctively touches his neck and tries to look around- and nearly runs straight into the hoodied teenager. He glitches back and then stares at the boy with wide eyes. "uh-" ...how the hell does he explain this. "...hi?" He attempts to wave- then realizes that's stupid and puts his hand down. "sorry uh- i uh- got... lost...?" Were adults even allowed in schools if they weren't teachers? ... he never finished secondary school he doesn't know- he also wasn't a good student why is this the place he appeared???

"Oh, uh--okay, I mean..." the boy stammers. "You got... really lost, uh... you're a hologram. Why are you a hologram? I mean uh--"

Alt raises an eyebrow, "oh- i guess that's a way to describe that but... uh no I'm... I'm.. real? not a hologram at least-"

The boy glances around. Nobody there? Okay. Good. "Okay. Uh. You're not going to, like, attack me or anything, right?" Stupid question, like someone would tell him if they were going to attack him.

Alt looks surprised. "Uh... no- why would I just attack some random kid?" Alt looks at the teen with a bit of confusion. "... are you in trouble?" He asks with a bit more seriousness, an urge of protectiveness flowing through him. If some adult or- hologram?? was messing this kid up... Alt could do something about it. Probably-

"Not... right now," he says slowly. "Which--okay, I know that sounds bad, but uh... it's weird talking in the middle of the hall, hang on, follow me."

Alt looks a bit more concerned but nods, "Uh yeah, kid.... alright." He starts to follow after him, though he cautiously look around, plotting out exits and memorizing stuff. Just in case. He can tell he's still very drained from running from Anti... he can probably use some magic, but full body glitching? ...not unless he wanted to pass out.

The boy hurries towards the end of the hallway that turns. "If anyone asks, you're my cousin, that's believable. As long as you don't keep doing that... static thing. Anyway. I-I guess you don't...know? About the weird things happening in town? With the greenlight and the Circle and the monster Anomalies and stuff? You kinda look like an Anomaly yourself."

When the boy says all the things towards Alt he just stares at him wide eyed. "Uhhhh... no-" Though god- anomaly- sounds like something Sclera has called him... but point was- he definitely wasn't home. Goddddamnit. He pulls out his phone and starts to type out what the kid said cuz- it sounds important. Could be something Mag is after...oh wait- he pauses after writing greenlight and anomaly- "You said... the circle? Like- a... magic circle?"

"I don't think so? We don't know much about them," he admits. "We got the name 'the Circle' from a... uh... less than reliable person. Sounds like you know less, though. I mean, maybe you are an Anomaly and you just didn't know what the name is. I dunno. Who... are you anyway?"

Alt nods along, "Uh yeah no I'm.... very much out of the loop i think." It was chilly in the halls so Alt had, while they were walking, untied his jacket from around his waist to slip it on. He pauses before answering, "my name's Alt. Alt Brody."

The boy gives Alt a once-over, trying to figure out who this guy is. Are those headphones glowing? Weird. He looks cool though, with a cool shirt and cool patches and pins on his jacket--He freezes for a moment, eyes landing on one in particular. But it's less than a second, just a weird falter in his walk. When he continues, he looks strangely more relaxed. "Uh... I-I like... I like your... pin."

Alt blinks at the kid as he freezes and tries to follow his line of sight- oh... one of his pins? He blinks down- he has a mini collection- random stuff the boys back home had gotten him. Like- the halloween pin with the bloody knife or the tiny pin with bro's logo on it. Or the music pin, dr. J and Henny thought it was classy. Oh- and the one Chase got him- the trans one. A bunch of other random ones too- like the bottle cap he got from Kelsie, and random gifts from his fans at his shows. Alt looks confused trying to figure it out, "Uh... which one? Sorry i- forgot how many I have on here- jesus-"

"Oh, I-I um, oh, the, uh--" The boy's face is slowly turning red. "They--they all look cool, but, uh..." He hesitates, then jabs a finger towards the trans one. "Thatoneanywayyeah my name's Jackie, you know, i-it's funny, there's this kid I know named Chase Brody, that's not really a common last name, do you two know each other, are you, like related? You kinda look like you would be but a lot of his family came over for Christmas and I didn't see you there but I wasn't there that long so I guess you could've arrived later, haha."

Alt blinks at the jab and then the rapid rambling and he actually breaks out into a laugh. But, its a nice laugh. He smiles warmly, "oh- yeah. Got that one from my brother." He takes a second to give a very subtle wink.

Jackie laughs awkwardly. "Y-yeah. Nice that you got that from him. I'm sure my dad would get me one... if we knew where to get them." Anyway. Time to shut up. He probably gets it.

"Hm? well hey- you can get like- anything from Amazon these days... shouldn't be too hard-" Alt stops his rambling to fully register the kid’s name.

"Oh- Jackie, was it? Nice to meet ya, then. I got a friend just like ya- same name too. anddd strangely enough. Chase is also my brother's name." Then he pauses to think- how are you related to your multiverse counterparts anyways? .... that makes it way more confusing. "Iiii dont think we're... related though. Least- not by... familial... blood.. and stuff-" He makes a face. "... that came out wrong, I think."

Jackie lets Alt talk and looks more and more confused. "Uh... okay? That's--" Then a ringtone starts playing. It's a sample from a Fall Out Boy song looped over and over. "Oh, uh, one second." Jackie takes a phone out of his pocket. It's one of those old models that slides open to reveal the number pad...though it looks pretty new.

Alt pauses and blinks and cant help but smile. Man... that's an old fall out boy song- he used to listen to that when he was Jackie's age. Though- he also listened to stuff like- Linkin Park and shit. He blinks even more at seeing his phone.... okay what the fuck..? Those are like- ancient now. Doesn't this kid have a smart phone??

"Oh hey, speaking of that kid Chase I know." Jackie picks up the call. "Hey, little man." A moment passes. His eyes immediately widen. "Wait, really? No, of course I do, it's just--where did he come from? Really? Whoa, really?" He glances at Alt and grins. "Yeah, actually, it's a good thing you did, I think your guess was right. One of them is in front of me right now. His name's Alt. Okay. Okay. Yeah, I don't have work or anything, we'll be right there." He hangs up. "So you're from a parallel universe?"

Alt starts a bit at Jackie's bluntness and then bursts into laughter. You can tell he's not usually one to do that- he grins. "I'mmm guessing your friend found my brother?"

"Yeah, he showed up right outside his house!" Jackie is grinning wide. He's clearly loving this. "This is definitely the coolest thing that's happened yet. Chase doesn't have a brother--Chase here, I mean. But he has a cousin, Henrik, who lives with him, they're basically brothers. Do you have a Henrik where you're from? Ooo, do you have one of me where you're from?! We also have some other friends, Marvin and Jameson and Stacy, do you have them?"

Alt can’t help but keep laughing as he nods. “Ha yeah, it is pretty cool huh?“ He smiles thinking of his friends. “We got a Henrik- he’s an actor and my best drinking mate. And a Jackie, he’s my brother's best friend- and one of mine. He’s the dorkiest dad I know- obsessed with super heroes. Runs a whole YouTube channel doing parkour.”

He falters at the Marvin, thinking of Mag. Though so far… the magician role of their group of friends seemed to be their Marvin’s… and he was kinda that. Or trying to be. He doesn’t want to think of anymore antis right now… he’ll cross that bridge if they come to it. Maybe they wont…

“uh- if your Marvin likes magic or can do it… then I guess. We’re kinda the same? People call me a magician back home but- I prefer illusionist~!” He grins, now back on track. “We got a Jameson too- he’s a therapist. Good Ol’ Dr. j. And uh- Stacy’s dating my brother… damn I should really try to get to know her better… I think she’s finishing her graduates at uni…?” He scratches his head. Then shakes it with a laugh. “Probably very different from how you guys are here I’m sure- considering you look about, half of Jackie’s age right now.”

"Stacy's dating Chase?" For some reason, that's what Jackie latches onto first. He raises an eyebrow. "A couple of kids in their grade have said that ours are dating, but I dunno if either of them are serious about that stuff yet. And yeah, Marvin can do... stuff? It's not really magic but he calls it that. I can't see Henrik as an actor or a drinker, haha, but then again, he's so tiny now. JJ's more of an actor, really, even if he's nonverbal. He likes film and theatre. Oh yeah, also, Marvin and JJ are twins. I doubt that's a thing in your universe from how you're talking. Would I be a dad...? I dunno, I haven't thought of that yet." He shrugs.

Alt hides his giggles. Of course that’s what the teenager latches onto. “Similar but different- sounds about right.” Damn Mag and Dr. J being twins- yeah couldn’t be his. Not since his extended stay with the mad man… “you got a long time to figure that out, dude. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

"Anyway. I told Chase that I'd drive you over to his house where your Chase is right now. They're pretending that you guys are related to his dad. I mean, if you have a license, you can drive, I guess.” Jackie shrugs.

Alt blinks and makes a face. “Oh yeah… driving is a thing. Never got my learners. I can just-“ He opens up his hand and makes a popping noise, “pop up in places usually. I’d… demonstrate but I think that’d cause… problems.”

"Teleportation? God, that'd be so useful. Not here, though. People are still around and stuff. Not even a permit, huh?”

“I mean to be honest… I never even finished secondary school but that’s… a long story.”

“Yeah, I'll drive, then. I drive all the time. Dad says I don't even need an adult, heh." Jackie grins proudly... then looks confused.

“By the way, what's Amazon? You mean, like, the Kindle guys? Are they different where you're from?"

Now Alt looks bewildered. “…Amazon’s not a thing here?” He remembers Jackie’s phone. “…Jackie weird question… it’s not… 2020 right now, is it?”

"2020? What sort of crazy future year are you living in in your universe?" He laughs. "Yeah, it just turned 2009. I guess time isn't the same in different dimensions."

Alt’s face drops. “…oh my god- damn I… I… I would have been about your age- …that’s too weird okay uh- let’s! Go to your friends! Driving- yayyy my favorite-“ the way he says it though definitely shows driving is not even close to his favorite.

Jackie smiles. "We can listen to music on the way, it'll be fun. Or, uh, alright at least. Come on. The front entrance is this way." He speeds up a little, heading for the school's exit.

Alt can’t help but smile back as he follows after Jackie.

-----------

After a brief fall through a dark place, Magnificent finds himself in a public park. The air is chilly, matching the snow lingering in the shadows by the trees. It's nice enough, for what's clearly winter. There are paths and benches and a big fountain in the middle. Mag is on the edge of the park, but he can see two boys, barely teenagers, hanging out around the fountain. One is scanning their surroundings with a (to his eyes) old camcorder, while the other is reaching into the empty fountain. That one is wearing a cape over his winter coat. Weird.

Magnificent staggers and then stumbles to hold himself against a tree. Fucking- Damnit… he’s still very injured. Multiple stab wounds litter his upper chest and arms. Maybe he has enough magic for a disguise spell… but he needs to find someplace to heal… this- this doesn’t feel like Brighton. The magic/power we can sense is… strange.

He’s about to look around to see if he can find more information about where he is when- he sees one of the boys on the fountain. He… he looks like… like how he did when-

He feels frozen- just… staring- not quite understanding what he’s seeing.

The boys are talking--or, one of them is, the one in the cape. The other one is silent. He can't hear the conversation from here but he hears faint strains of his voice chattering away. The boy in the cape stands up straight, putting something in his pocket. Did he just... steal the coins from the empty fountain? The other boy smiles at him, panning across the park... until the camcorder stops, pointed towards where Mag is standing. The boy lowers the camcorder, a bit wary. He nudges the other and moves his hands--BSL. Slightly different than what Mag expects, but still understandable.

Magnificent narrows his eyes at the thing the silent boy is holding. That… is that a camcorder? …guess kids these days could still use those. But- that means he's been spotted. He steps back and then disappears into static- but stays close by, hiding in the shadows. Something… felt strange near those boys- could he sense something by them…?

When Magnificent searches for power, he can feel some distant spots, sources of… something. It’s not quite the magic he’s used to. It’s strange, tingling like that feeling when your nerves fall asleep. And, much closer than those distant spots, is the boy in the cape, who is giving off a similar signature. The boy with the camcorder points at where Magnificent was. Then the boy with the cape starts walking towards there before being held back by the other one. They start talking—arguing, maybe—in both voice and sign.

Magnificent narrows his eyes. Why was the magic so…. Fuzzy here? Did they come to a world where magic was scarce? …for all his plotting, Magnificent never once considered a world where that was possible. Magic was his life blood since he first bore breath- a world without it seemed… impossible. But at least something is here… and that boy… if he’s who he think he was… then he’d need to be taken care of. He draws his lip back at the signing- the hand speech his puppets used… a sign of weaknesses. Another thing to deal with… Until he knew more though… and could find a way to lick his wounds… he’d have to observe. He can’t let these children out of his sights. …he hasn’t taken such a small form in a while- but it would be the least suspicious. His forms ripples with colored static and then- a cat slinks out from the shadows, shaking itself off. His wounds still ache but- wait… he has an idea.

After a few minutes of arguing the boys suddenly hear the pained cry of a cat. A little ways down the path, they see a big beautiful black Norwegian forest cat with a big fluffy coat. It has a patch of rust on its back, almost like a cape and a spot of similar coloring on the right side of its face. It licks at its arms, leg and side repeatedly, and they can see it looks injured.

The effect is instant. “Awww!” gasps the boy in the cape. “JJ, look! I think it’s hurt.” He starts slowly walking forward, being cautious as he doesn’t want to scare the cat away. JJ hangs back, frowning. M-twin, be careful. It might lash out.

“I know, I know. But look at it!” As the cat isn’t running away, the boy creeps closer. “We should take it to the vet. Maybe it’s someone’s pet. Oh, but if it’s not, maybe we can keep it! Do you think Sinney will get along with it?”

I think Mam will kill us if we bring home a second cat, our house isn’t that big. JJ frowns. And what about that weird man earlier? He disappeared.Shouldn’t we be looking for him?

“It’ll be fiiiine, these things always come back, right?” Marvin crouches close to the ground. “Message the others if you’re so worried.” JJ nods. He puts his camcorder into his bag and takes out a phone. He slides it open to reveal a keyboard and he starts texting very, very fast. Meanwhile, Marvin reaches out a hand for the cat to sniff. There are scars on his palm and fingers.

The cat watches the boy with one bright green eye on its left- it’s right almost looking blind. It curls up for a second before cautiously sniffing forward. Then it starts to meow earnestly at the boy, pressing up close to him as it limps, hardly able to step down on one of its paws. It looks like something stabbed it on its shoulder- and it’s legs and back are scattered with smaller wounds. It mewls pitifully, trying to rub its face against Marvin’s fingers.

Marvin immediately melts. “Awwwwe! Look at it, JJ! I bet it’s someone’s pet that some asshole decided to take and beat up. Oh, or maybe it was the Circle. Maybe they decided to try using animals.” JJ doesn’t stop texting, but he tilts his head to the side, considering that.

“I’m gonna pick it up now,” Marvin announces. “And you can’t stop me.” He starts to do just that, carefully putting his arms around the cat and standing up. As his hands get closer to the cat’s wounds, the magic Mag senses grows from tingling to buzzing.

Mag tenses up as he’s picked up but once he sensed the growing magic his eyes widen. He then continues his act to meow and press up against Marvin, purring quietly and curling up in his arms.

“See? Nothing happened.” Marvin grins at JJ triumphantly. “Let’s go take this guy to the vet.”

JJ doesn’t answer. He’s scanning his phone screen with increasingly wide eyes. M-twin, he signs. I think that guy we saw was dangerous.

“Wait, really?” Marvin is serious again. “In what way?”

One second. JJ texts something, then puts his phone in his bag so he can sign better. There are these weird guys who Chase and Jackie ran into who are from another world. There was also a third guy who came here with them who’s apparently some kind of villain.

“You mean aliens?”

No, like different dimensions.

“Like the dark place?”

No, more like Earth.

“…Huh.” Marvin pauses. “Well we still gotta take this cat to the vet. We can look for that guy later. He disappeared anyway, so we can’t find where he went or anything.”

Mag’s eyes widen- Um no vet thank you! He presses up against Marvin and starts to mewl in distress and acts scared, even if it pains him to do so. As he does he tries to send some influence to change the boy’s mind- {if that guy is around- he could be scary. I should head home- I can bandage up the cat’s wounds myself. Maybe even take it to a friend’s. And the cat is too freaked out to take the vet but it seems to like me! Keep the cat close.}

Marvin looks down at the cat and frowns, worried, as it mews. "Oh fuck, it's really upset. Uh... maybe we should go home, actually. Or no, wait, we should meet up with the others to talk about this guy. D'you think Chase's mom has big bandages? We can fix the cat there, I don't think it'll like being away from me."

JJ frowns. What the hell are you talking about? You KNOW you're supposed to take strays to the vet!

"I dunno, this guy's probably not a stray, I guess."

Well then it's not our cat and we shouldn't get attached. We should take it to the VET so that they can look at that chip thing.

"But it's soooo cute," Marvin whines. "Please, JJ?"

We can't just bring a cat to Chase's house! JJ says.

"Yeah we can. Look, I'm doing it right now." Marvin starts walking down the path, heading to the edge of the park. There's a pair of bicycles hooked up to a rack, one of which has a basket. "I'm gonna steal your bike for the basket, watch out!"

Shocked, JJ hurries after him, taking out his phone on the way and starting to text some more. Behind them, a shadow flickers in the branches of a tree.

Mag settles down and purrs against Marvin, content he’s on the right path now. Chase huh? Perhaps his own puppets have found their way as well… he could be patient. He settles in against the boy, feigning affection.

Marvin reaches the bikes and carefully puts the cat in the basket, which is just big enough for it to be comfortable. He then gets on the bike himself and waits for JJ to get here.

Your bike is weird, JJ complains.

“Your bike is weird.”

JJ rolls his eyes. I told Chase about the cat. He says we should take it to the vet first but he’d be fine if we brought it.

“No time, let’s go.” Marvin jerks his head at the other bike. JJ sighs, but gets on the bike. The two of them head out. A shadow disappears from the tree, and a faint giggle echoes in the empty park.

Mag let’s himself settle in and kneads at the basket before going back to lick his paws. All while keeping his bit of influence strong. Seems like the other boy was a headstrong one… {Very good Marvin. This cat is very important, very special. This cat needs to be by you. Keep it safe.}

[sillystargirll]

The World We Knew ~ Part 4

Links: part 1 part 2 part 3

cw: swearing lots of it !

The car comes to a stop I look out Ghost's window and see we arrived at some hillbilly farm on the outskirts of the forest, probably this is where he ran after we pursued him in the pueblo he was hiding like a coward.

“Graves, negative on Hassan! It’s a dry hole!” 

“ Multiple vehicles approaching from the south.” A Shadow communicates, sounding like one of the numerous operators keeping an eye on you all. You could see a faint plane in the sky through the dense, green clouds if you looked up. It was both amazing and unsettling sense if you saw it, the enemies could all so see it.

Hiding for cover in an old shack building, A shadow radio ghost but my attention is not all there since it was preparing for disappointment if Hassan wasn't in this goddamn hillbily fucking farm I would fucking lose my mind. I just pray this bald-headed fuck is here and we can go back to base, oh how I would kill for a tequila shot right about now.

“Ghost, copy that. I need you out of the building, move north right now!” 

“Go, go!” Ghost gave the order to evacuate the building. You heard the frantic footsteps of Soap and Alejandro not too far behind you as you hurried outside as quickly as you could in the direction of a really enormous tree that was close in a stretch of lush grass fields that were dried and not well taken care of.

“Graves, we’re clear! Drop that fuckin’ building now!” 

Despite being so high in the sky, you rarely saw Shadow Company in action but weren't surprised after all we do need air support, so you weren't really sure what to expect from them. They truly had an impact on the stables. It only needed one big bomb to hit the building's roof for the entire structure to collapse like a house of cards on fire.

If the Mexican cartel had been oblivious of your presence in any way, they were most certainly aware of it by this point.

Around where the stables once stood, pieces of charred wood fell from the sky like confetti, leaving a large crater in the surrounding grass and dirt. It was impossible for any sight to miss the temporary mushroom cloud of thick, dense smoke that covered the sky.

“We’re pushing west to the greenhouse!” Alejandro announced as he directed his gaze toward the following structure, where Hassan might be. You had the impression that if you listened closely enough, you could hear the big plane's propellers miles over your head as it scouted the area in front of it in order to determine where the target may be.

All stations, there’s armed personnel in the greenhouse.”

“Check fire! Hassan could be inside!” Soap alerted into his radio. 

There were additional cartel soldiers inside and around the greenhouse, as you had predicted. The troops who had hurried outside to see the stables being destroyed then started firing in your direction while hiding behind whatever they could find, be it their trucks or thick-lined containers carrying specialized gardening equipment or fertilizer.

“Ghost, keep your men back, we’re fixin’ to engage the greenhouse.”

The enemy huddled close to the small greenhouse as the Shadows above the sky began to fire downward at them. They were relatively small but hefty grenades, bigger than bowling balls, that packed quite a loud, harsh punch and almost completely destroyed the greenhouse. At first, you kind of expected much bigger bombs.

Even further, they attacked the convoys themselves, which some cartel members had been hiding behind in groups. The explosion from a single bomb hitting the trucks' roofs was enough to either throw the cartel back or instantaneously burn them alive.

It didn't take long until you were given the go-ahead to explore the greenhouse's remnants, which, to be honest, might have been easily inspected before to the explosion. This fragile frame and sheer, see-through walls were burned to ashes. Being your own personal opinion, Hassan would have died a long time ago if he had been even somewhat stupid enough to hide in the greenhouse.

From the bodies of those who, thankfully, were still alive, barely hanging to the threads of their existence, you could hear slight hacking and coughing. It was nearly unpleasant to go through the destroyed mess because you weren't sure if you were stepping on flaming wood, soot-covered steel, or charred bodies.

"Where is this fucker!" Soap stated through his radio I could hear his frustration at this point who wouldn't be pissed

“He has to be in that compound.” Alejandro was sure of it, staring straight ahead towards the promised villa in the far distance.

“Shadow-1, what’s the ETA on that convoy?” I asks Graves. 

“0-7, convoy is six klinks out, advise you step it up and secure exfil .”

Alejandro communicates with Rodolfo while Ghost, using a small black wand he had strapped to his vest, tells Soap to mark the last compound with an IR laser.

A big, well-secured two-story mansion that resembled a castle in this agave farm and was enclosed by tall, bright white walls with subdued red trim was a clear indication that this was the owner's residence.

You weren't really sure if the farm's owner had been killed and the cartel had taken over his villa, but it was more likely that one of the cartel leaders owned it. Alternatively, this agave farm might have belonged to El Sin Nombre themselves, who might have permitted the farmers who were merely doing their jobs to continue so as to maintain appearances.

Before you could advance to the compound door, an RPG badly hits you luckily just your right shoulder, leaving your ears ringing from the close encounter. A piercing whistle then ripped through the sky. More cartel guys had emerged from the compound doors and were moving to take up position next to a big water tower.

Following Alejandro and Soap as swiftly as you could, you abruptly changed your course after hearing instructions for the Shadow company to attack the water tower to cool off.

Your knees crunched beneath damp, green grass and dirt as you swiftly found cover behind some metal crates, avoiding the bullets that started striking where you hid.

"s-shit im hit f-fuck."

"Y/N!" I could see Soap ducking from the raining bullets that fired over us, he crunched next to me and hid behind some metal crates. He Grabs a hold of your arms and helps you off the ground, You are conscious enough to stand on your own with additional support. Bullets punctured the ground around your feet.

Quickly getting hold of your rifle, you rushed ahead to get him behind a suitable cover. The last thing you heard was gunfire erupting from the opened doors of the compound, more cartels rushing out to avenge their fallen comrades.

“Where’d you get hit??” Soap checked your body for wounds as he brought you over to his hiding place, the man exhaling hard as he contained himself, sitting upright on his own.

"Right shoulder, check if the bullet when through or not," He examined your shoulder, there was a spillage of blood something that could be handled so he didn't panic, once coming across the bullet hole he could see where the bullet made its exit.

"It went through" you sighed in relief thank god the bullet didn't stay or else you would have been in so much fucking pain just to get it out. I reach for my rifle and check the magazine for more ammo, to your surprise there wasn't any more.

you feel Soap tap your shoulder, you turn around and see him holding a small roll of bandages to wrap around your shoulder, I give him a small smile and take the bandages to wrap around my shoulder, but before I could I wince in pain, Soap then takes the bandages from my hand and rolls it around my wounded shoulder.

"Thank you"

"no problem, mate."

As soon as the Shadows delivered the final bombs towards the enemies, a heavy blanket of tense silence polluted the air once more, barely enough time for you to hear the chirping of birds slowly fill the silence as they returned to the nearby nature all around. 

“Affirm. Proper air support, mate.” Ghost said through the radio, giving the order out.

“ Roger that, 0-7. Be advised, you’re clear up to the compound, but the gate is blocked at this time.” 

“Copy. Give us a way in, yeah?” 

“ We’ll open the door for you, stand by.” 

Just as was advised, large bombs rained down upon the bright red painted wood gate that blocked you from entering the Villa. 

“Let’s go!” Ghost orders for everyone to get into position, eager to find Hassan dead or alive. dead will do for me since this bald fuck sends us for a wild goose chase which I'm wondering if he takes pride in or enjoyment.

When the back door of the building suddenly bursts open and a black, sleek jeep abruptly pulls off to the side of the road, Rodolfo barely manages to put his foot down on the brake pedal as Ghost quickly takes the lead towards the waiting vehicle. As Soap ran out behind you, pulling a bald, battered man in a filthy leather jacket, you and Alejandro followed behind, pistols up in anticipation of any unseen adversaries.

Particularly in his present condition, Hassan was one ugly son of a bitch. His only remaining protection was a lone cartel soldier holding him behind his back too bad he didn't make it far due to Soap beating the shit out of him for standing in his way which you didn't mind and found it hot.

Alejandro and Soap pursued him as he attempted yet another escape. you run as fast as you can running Alejandro and Soap despite your shoulder being wounded your arm wraps around Hassan's neck using your whole body to swing around him and using your legs to knock him out from under.

Alejandro and Soap watched as you swiftly knocked him out, with astonishment I mean they just got outrun by a Woman it a bit damaged their pride at the moment, but they had bigger problems to deal with this bald-headed fuck and the rucks he caused.

“I am a Quds Force Major! You have no right-!!“ 

“Shut the fuck up!” Soap grunted out in pure irritation while roughly forcing him off the ground and pressing Hassan up against the side of the jeep, the harsh impact silencing him instantly for at least a second or two. 

“You will pay dearly for this.” The man sneered in his native language, but no one would’ve cared less to even listen.

"Yeah, Yeah whatever you say."

“Shove him in the back!” Ghost shouted while opening the Jeep's trunk door. Soap wasted no time in shoving the man inside, using his muscle to push him toward the rear. Ghost slammed the door, shaking the jeep as he hurriedly opened the right back door to enter. As Soap unlocked the door and ushered you inside, he swiftly entered and shut the door before you had a chance to object, leaving you crammed in the middle.

═════════════════

 The atmosphere was set by crickets chirping in the pitch-black desert night, which was soon followed by the faint cry of coyotes. The only lights any of you had to rely on were those left on by the jeeps with such gloomy skies devoid of any stars to be seen.

Several doors banged shut as two men dragged a shackled man in front of them who was still covered in the black cowl.

“On your knees." Hassan was prodded forward by soap as Alejandro swiftly removed the black cloth from his head.

Graves was tweaking the laptop screen to start up a live broadcast while squatting in front of an army green box while no longer wearing his stark black suit.

"Got a clear picture."

Crystal. ” Shepherd replied. 

“All set. ” Laswell confirmed, exhaling smoke from the corner of her lips. 

“Alright, we are live, folks.” Graves rose from the ground, turning around to stalk towards their bound hostage. Hassan watched Graves further approach from the corner of his eye, tilting his head up slightly once he got closer.

“Do you speak Arabic?” He asks.

“No.” Graves shook his head once.

“Farsi?” 

“No.” Graves looked up once he noticed movement from the jeep, your boots crunching under dry sand and pebbles as you began to approach.

“But I’m guessing she can.” 

You stopped next to Graves and knelt down to look at Hassan. You would have been more than happy to smugly defeat him at this game if he were to play some sort of obstinate card and decide to solely speak another language.

Unsurprisingly, He gave you one glance before turning his attention back to Graves, choosing to ignore you instead.

“A woman holding a weapon into war,” He gestured towards your rifle, “Is your country that weak that you hold a shortage of men to fight your battles?”

"Oh shut it, it doesn't matter who's holding the goddamn gun."You crossed your arms slowly. “The bullets still kill the targets. Looks like you speak good English, so let’s get right to it.” 

“Of course,” Hassan replied, an obvious mock in his tone as he glanced at you. “I’ll gladly speak your bastardized Medieval English because you are all uneducated street dogs.” 

“Ahh, see…” Graves sounded annoyed quickly, shaking his head at his distasteful words, “We’re really getting off to a bad start here, Hassan.”

“You are talking to a Quds Force Officer.” Hassan stated, albeit proudly with a sneer.

“You’re the commander of a foreign terror organization,” Graves retorted, not willing to put up with any silly antics or formalities.

“I can say the same to you.” Hassan further retorted with an additional dagger in his gaze. 

“What’s your target, ‘Major’ ?” Graves states with a sarcastic etch in his tone.

“What was your target when they sent missiles to my land?” 

“Oh well, wild guess... To nail your ass.” Graves replied with an unamused shrug. 

“So insolent and foul-mouthed. You will learn to respect me when your nation sees fire.” 

“Respect? Oh, come on, what you should be focusing on is mercy.” You took a step closer, forcing Hassan to glare up at you, spitting an insult in his native tongue.

“ You insolent whore, you will respect me!” Hassan announced, sitting up off of his knees. Graves quickly intervened, shoving the man back down with a shove to the shoulder. 

"That's a new one," you smirk as You simply stared, showing an amused expression. It was so amusing watching men who had no current power to be talking out of their asses grow so offended in seconds.

"The last person who talked to me like that ended up getting eaten alive by my hounds, I dare you to say it again." Graves looked at you with surprise in his eyes he silently smirked to himself knowing that "his girl" was terrorizing this man, huffing out an audibly impressed huff before remaining close to Hassan, growing more serious once more.

“You are in bed with the cartel, Hassan. If you disappeared, no one would know where to look for the fuckin’ stain.” 

Hassan huffed in amusement at the Commander’s irritable tone. “I have no doubt you’ll take pleasure in torturing me.” 

“Who’d you get American missiles from?” Soap spoke out, growing fed up with the Major’s smug attitude. 

“I don’t care who they’re from, I wanna know where they're going.” Shepherd interrupted the tense conversation, sounding rather impatient in your own opinion. 

Graves peered about, grasping the armband of his tactical vest, whistling out at the sound when he could muster any remaining patience in his mind. Coyotes howled into the dark night skies.

“Take a look around, Hassan.” He gestured outwards to the darkness. “Now, you can either become part of the food chain,” he lowered himself down a bit, tilting his head, “Or you can start talking.” 

“I’m a hostage here,” Hassan stated as he attempted to rise, immediately getting restrained by Alejandro’s hand on his shoulder. “This is illegal.”

Alejandro scowled down at him and said, "You are a prisoner of war," grasping his shoulder firmly.

"Iran and Mexico are not at war. I haven't broken any laws. He said, making a hand motion for Soap and you, "You men and whore are all law breakers." He even went so far as to turn to face Ghost, who was silently watching from beside the jeep's dark side.

“You and your beloved General Ghorbrani broke every-“

“Do not speak his name, you insolent whore!!” Hassan shouted at Soap, forcibly being held back by Alejandro once more. The topic of his lost general triggered him a lot more than anyone expected, watching the man thrash against his restraints.

he then began to shout in his native language which I didn't care that much because their all the same shouting about how God is gonna punish me for my crimes and send me to hell, well to bad I'm already there.

“I want this bastard in permanent custody or looking up at the goddamn grass!” Shepherd barked his strict demand through the broadcast. 

“General,” Laswell quickly intervened, “Killing Hassan is an act of war, keeping him here is illegal. Right now, he is too hot to hold.” 

As soon as he realized the serious situation they were all in, you could only picture the General slouching back in his chair and gripping tightly his hands. You would just kill him personally and be done with it if there were no repercussions to deal with.

“Tell me you’re getting something actionable, Laswell.”

“Working on it. Stand by.” 

In order to quickly retrieve the laptop from the crate and place it on top of the car's hood, Graves abandoned his position in front of Hassan.

Graves started losing his patience, he just wanted to shoot this man and leave his body to rot in deserts let alone with vultures eating the remains of his body.

"Laswell is right, Without proof we need to turn him loose. See where he leads us. ”

“He’s right here. You can’t be serious!” Soap quickly approached Graves’s side, staring right into the screen.

“I’m afraid I am, Son. ” 

Immediately, Alejandro pushed the black fabric back over Hassan's head, covering off the smirk on his face. You squinted your eyes down at the "Major," teetering on the brink since you could only see that he was grinning.

"Is that it, then? Are we simply returning him in that manner? You didn't intend for your voice to get that loud, but you really had no choice. Your patience had been tried, broken, and shattered all day and all night from this wild goose chase just for it to end with begin let go. There wasn't anything preventing you from being more reserved.

"That's all we can do; starting another war for the sake of this smug bastard is the last thing we need right now."

a low amused chuckle came from the hooded man that was still down on his knee, oh how bad you wanted to take off that hood and beat the shit out of him till he was all bloody and disfigured so that no one would recognize that motherfucker.

"A whore like you has no place here, just on your knees to please others not to fight men's battle."

Hassan's head was thrown back before he made contact with the ground when your fist made a hard contact with his left temple.

The men in your immediate surroundings all let out audible screams of surprise. Before Hassan's body touched Alejandro's feet, he hastily took a step back, his disbelief clearly visible on his face.

" oi, oi easy girl!" As he walked up to you, Soap instantly opened his arms to you and yelled with a mix of complete amazement and faint amusement. he to admit that was hot watching you sucker punch Hassan.

"Cálmate tranquilla!” Alejandro came around to your side and took a brief, amused look at Hassan's body before noticing the visibly upset expression in your eyes.

"That's enough!" from his position next to the jeep, Ghost roared. His voice stood out indescribably among the others you heard, causing your head to jolt upwards and drawing your focus to him at once.

Everything fell silent all you could hear is the crickets chirping in the distance and the silence, with the moon shining down upon you Graves, comes over to you and places a hand on your shoulder making eye contact with you, this was the last person you wanted to telling you calm down.

"Listen, as much as I wanna shoot this sonva bitch, don’t let him get to your head, understand?” Graves says to you, leaving you staring at him with a death stare.

Your breathing slowed as your shoulders sagged slowly, presumably alleviating the tension. Even though there was still a strong burning in your chest, your brows did soften just a little, giving him the idea that you were calming down.

"Atta girl" Graves pats your shoulder and gives you a small smile. it was warm but you had seen it to much especially when having sex with him.

Alejandro escorted the confused man back to the jeep after picking him up off the ground and confirming that he was awake enough to stand on his own two legs. Despite the unnecessary reaction he saw, he was hoping your attack would cause Hassan to sustain a painful bruise.

Before being taken away, Ghost slowly walked up and put Hassan's phone back in his coat pocket. When he turned to face you, he appeared unconcerned by the way you continued to hold your weapon solidly in your hand.

As you turned and headed in the direction of the closest jeep, Soap could be heard following you closely.

You slid into your seat after opening your door as you watched Soap come around to the open side and give you a worried expression while placing his palm on the inner of the open door.

“You alright, lass?”

"I'm fine"

[emyn-arnens]

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

Thanks for tagging me @dreamingthroughthenoise! I'm going to limit this to my ten most recent Tolkien fics, since I've been writing for a variety of fandoms lately.

1. Frodo wandered through the garden of Bag End, breathing in the scent of the roses and snapdragons and listening to the hum of the bees that darted among the bright blooms, yet he felt strangely detached from the moment, even as he brushed his fingers over the large leaves of the sunflowers that stood nearly as tall as he did. (nor bid the stars farewell)

2. Their ships draw near, and Arien laughs a bright, golden laugh as Tilion draws alongside, hiding the flame of Arien’s light behind his shadow. (to sail the shoreless skies)

3. The body of his father burns in a crackling fury, burns until it is nothing but smoke and ash, whisked away into the whipping wind of the mountains, his father's spirit fleeing to the darkness of the Halls—but Maedhros cannot look, cannot watch the one who brought them forth through fire and blood to the frozen lands of the north now forsake them, though the task they are bound to lies insurmountable before them. (of sorrow and of ruin)

4. Andreth looked in wonder at the three Elves standing in the main hall, bright and brilliant, hardly touched by the grime of travel, otherworldly in the dim evening candlelight of the hall. (in the hills of dorthonion)

5. Andreth padded down the corridor leading to the guest quarters, taking care to step lightly and holding her cloak tightly closed over her night shift. (a flame in the darkness)

6. Tying her evening robe loosely about her, Celebrían stepped onto the balcony that girded her quarters and rested her arms on the marble railing. (Radiant)

7. Starlight fell upon the Aeluin in a thousand pinpricks of light, the sky caught in a deep bowl. (for time runs more swiftly than justice)

8. Soft footfalls trod on the leaf-strewn ground behind where Frodo sat against a tree, and he looked over his shoulder to see Legolas approaching him. (here at journey's end)

9. Finrod feels the first splintering when he, Aegnor, and Angrod journey to the halls of Bëor’s folk to witness the passing of the house’s headship to Boron. (with death on his brow like a crown)

10. Andreth knelt down and inspected the small cluster of mushrooms, mentally running through the list of features her mother had long ago taught her and Beril to look for. (and I will love with urgency, but not with haste)

I think nearly everyone I follow has been tagged already, but if we're mutuals/you follow me and haven't been tagged yet, please feel free to do this and say that I tagged you!

[valkirsif]

Arte CH 2/4

After the tournament I realize that others look at me differently, I hear them whispering as I pass, "Mother why are they staring at me like that?" I ask my mother as we return from the seed harvest, "What are you talking about puppy" she replies smiling at her, "They are happy with your victory that keeps talking about the Canopy", I am not convinced but I smile, the Blood Moon is approaching and everyone is busy preparing crates and goods for the trade trip, once a year the various clans move with wagons and goods to trade with others, at the Canopy they serve mushroom tree skins and spores that are not available in the jungle, our merchants will bring eggs, fruit to trade and precious luminous silks to Medveja, the Sanguis are preparing the heavy clothes to wear in the north and check that the weapons are sharp, they move around the base of the guards, I watch them train nervous, no elf likes that kind of journey that lasts for weeks but is necessary for the survival of the clans, I have always been curious about what lies outside our jungle and this year I will follow them, after the tournament I feel strong enough to make a fool of myself, if I am discovered my opportunities to become a guard will fade and my family will suffer public blame but I do not whole I don't want to be a good puppy but follow my wishes before becoming a responsible adult, I "borrowed" some warm clothes from the trunk in the attic, prepared a bow and arrow, put a template in the bed and wait in my hiding place for it caravan leaves. The Moon has finally risen the red shadow makes the landscape strange, disturbing, trees and bushes look like monstrosities, below me the Sanguis watch over the caravan as they leave the Canopy and head to Edelween, our future home wanted by the Matriarch and still in construction on an island in the middle of the river, many gardeners who are part of the caravan will stop there to continue with the care of the giant mushrooms that will be our homes, I think about how the elves complain about other races, sometimes calling them creatures, without understand that without the spores that came from Medveja they would not have a leafy roof over their heads and that in the autumn we would starve without the salty meat of giants, lost in those thoughts I do not realize that the caravan has left, I take my things, I I climb the first palm tree on the beach and follow it at a safe distance, I do not want to be discovered before I have even left the Canopy territory. It takes us all night to get to Edelween, the guards welcome the caravan with food and drink to refresh it, I hide in a cave on the bank of the river not far away and I eat the dried meat I took before leaving, I plan to find something better at the camp, I slip stealthily behind a curtain, I take a dress and a handkerchief to mask my hair, going unnoticed is essential even if the Sanguis present have never seen me better be careful, "Puppy, come here and take these seeds on the boat .." an elderly gardener beckons me to join him, "... here you are good with delicacy, put them in the hold next to the honey ..", "Immediately" I reply quickly, placing the sack full of seeds on my shoulder that helps me to hide even better, ".. these must be stowed .." I say to what looks like a dwarf holding a roll in his hand where he marks everything, "Thanks puppy you can put them there .. quiet the shaggays are harmless" I hear him laughing at my face at the sight of those strange colorful and noisy flying animals, I arrange the load and retrace my steps in search of real food, the smell of stew and candied fruit pervades all of Edelween and I got hungry, I go into the tent that they use to eat all together and I crawl into the shade, I take a bowl of food and a plate of fruit and I start eating next to a group of witches, "I'm so happy to be coming home a few days" says a young sorceress who has lived at the Canopy for a couple of years, "I'm almost out of black silk", "I need the silver, the mirror doesn't work anymore" replies Samara, one of the matriarch's advisers, "a litter of fairies has spilled my supplies ..",

I realize that she stares at me, she recognized me for sure she knows me very well, I smile innocent,

".. wait, puppy .. Leana pass me the powder please .." she says to her neighbor, opens the jar, takes a handful of yellow powder, smiles at me and spreads it on my face, "..You have a scratch that needs to be taken care of and we don't want the Sanguis to see you", I thank you and I leave without seeming to run, I go back to my hiding place and try to rest, tonight I have to find a way to get on the ship, the caravan will go up the river to Hindafjel where the dangerous part of the journey begins .. the passage to the North in the darkness where the creatures of war are still said to live, it is the only way to Medveja, you don't waste time chatting in the dark, you walk briskly to reach the safety of the city. I go down into the water without making noise and swim slowly to the ship, I climb on the side and once inside I hide among the bundles of fabrics sure not to be found, once docked I will have all the time to land unseen, I have never been not even in a canoe on the river and my stomach rebels against the movement of the big boat, I hear the people on the deck laughing and joking, ".. I check the shaggays .." I hear the dwarf open the door of the hold and go down the stairs, "..shhh calm down I'm here", he says, cuddling the flying insects, "Puppy we are halfway through the journey, do you want to eat something?" he discovered I don't know what to do, "Yes, thank you .." I answer in a low voice, laughs as he climbs the stairs, comes back shortly after with some stew, "Here eat, it is not wise to sail fasting" he smiles, passing me the bowl and some bread, "How did you find me?" I ask blowing on the soup while drinking the broth, "I was sure you would not have given them weight" he laughs pointing at the insects, "They are the best alarm, they report to me everything that happens on the ship ..", I understand that he judges me the way elves judge other races and I am ashamed of myself,

"I'm sorry, I don't want to justify myself but I didn't know anything about the .. Shaggays ?." I smile embarrassed extending a hand to caress the insect that whistles happy, "I learned a new thing and I thank you .. also for the food .. will you say I'm here?" I ask nervously, "You're not the first clandestine" he laughs as he strokes my head like a father's, "They'll let you know when it's safe to get off", with a full stomach I fall asleep feeling safe, the Shaggays lean on the beam above me lulling me with their low whistle, I wake up with a ray of sunshine entering the porthole I crawl to see where we are, it seems to me that I have sailed too little to having reached Hindafjel, the ship is stationary in the middle of the river next to another one that is going towards the sea, the blue insect whistles in my ear and I run back to hide, I also cover my head for safety, "So the seeds .. the seeds .. here they are .." the dwarf moves agile between the boxes and retrieves a chest full of seeds and plants, "Thanks I was afraid not to cross you" says a female voice, I hear moving and moving objects near me, "Quiet little ones I will not touch your nest" she laughs at the agitated Shaggay, "They have just laid the eggs they are a bit nervous, leave the wool there, I'll take care of it" the dwarf laughs, accompanying the merchant on the bridge, I hear them talking over my head, shortly after the ship starts again I watch the landscape change as we get closer to the North, the waters of the great river are calm .. apparently, under the surface I see sinuous shapes moving next to the ship, a big ice-colored animal leaps out of the water splashing the side of the ship, I am fascinated by its shape, the blue scales change color in contact with the air, the red eyes bright, it seems to smile at the ship, I am not afraid something tells me that it's harmless, the frozen water of the river cools the bottom of the boat I should be cold, I'm not used to these temperatures, I feel great .. in fact I almost feel warm, I stay looking at the river and the shore until I see the lights of Hindafjel, shortly before I go back to my hiding place and wait for the green light. It is late at night when I hear a tap on the side of the ship, the Shaggays whistle, it is the go-ahead signal, I slip from the hold and arrive at the top of the stairs to the deck, there is no one around, I get off the ship and I I look around everything is covered with blue ice and shining under the lights of the city, it is beautiful, one of the insects descends with me and goes to a cave hidden in the trees, I follow it in silence like the night of the hunt on the beach, the Canopy it seems light years from here, in the cave I find a bed and food, the dwarf is taking care of me I have to find a way to thank him, I slept for most of the journey, I am rested and excited by this adventure, from my hole I can see everything that happens in the city, the guards on the walls who make the rounds, the inhabitants who enter and leave the inn, my fellow citizens who move bewildered through the central square moving the goods and loading the wagons for tomorrow, some gros goats are attached to the wagons and fed, the Sanguis control the perimeter and help in the preparations, the elves of the Canopy are covered up to the ears in layers of fur only the eyes remain uncovered by the woolen hood, a group of witches leaves the village and walks in my direction, Samara raises her face and crosses my eyes, smiles at me and beckons me, I wait for them in the cave, "Artemisa I will not ask you what you are doing here .." she scolds me semi serious, "..you have always been the most curious of your brothers and puppy of the village, just try to be careful while we go to Medveja" she explains the dangers of the walk, next to the path there are deep crevasses and the night is dark not like the normal nights of the Canopy, there are pools of a green fog that poisons and black ghosts with colored eyes, "Your" special "sight may not be enough to keep you on the right path, if you lose sight of the caravan, look up and look for the red star .. aim for Medveja", I listen to her advice in silence, I try to understand why who is not an elf is helping me in such a subversive adventure, "In the lessons they always talk to us about the creatures of war, how they are dangerous and bloodthirsty, are there many along the way?" I ask more curious than frightened, the witches look at each other before answering me, "Dear, you have nothing to fear from the animals of the night, they are only dangerous if provoked or attacked" replies the young witch, "Medveja is home to many races ..", “That's enough Domitia” Samara interrupts her seriously, I look at the witches with curiosity but I don't ask any more questions, soon the caravan will move and I will see with my own eyes everything they taught me at school. After two days of travel something moved inside me, as if all together I was in a hurry to arrive, it was not my usual curiosity for unknown things .. it was as if those lands called me .. they claimed me, I decided not to wait any longer and as soon as night fell I left my shelter and started running towards the purple lights that I saw in the distance, my instinct told me that I had nothing to fear in those lands, my blood boiled but as I approached, the wild animals observed my passage without fear or aggression, in a couple of hours I found myself on the slopes of Medveja, I caught my breath and walked the stone road in front of me, at the top of the steep climb there was a village perched on the bare rock, the inhabitants lived in small tents arranged in circles around the bonfire, now I understood why my people called them creatures and were afraid of them, there were people covered in fur, tall humans of black as the night with big wings and horns there. killing, in the only dark wooden houses there were elves .. at least they looked like elves, pale with long hair and red eyes, the only ones I recognized were the witches, a couple of them lived in the Matriarch's tree as her advisors, I headed with sure step towards them smiling as I had been taught, even if it seemed to me the most senseless thing in the world at that juncture, the cuckolds turned to stare at me in amazement a witch got up and ran into a tent shouting something I did not understand .. I only recognized my name when he said it I turned in his direction and saw that he came out of the tent followed by a tall black woman who stared at me in disbelief repeating my name, I did not understand what was happening, the witch invited me into the tent and he explained to me what was happening .. I was a war cub, my real father had fallen in love with what I now discovered was a succubus .. my mother, he was exiled and she was told that I was born dead, letting her pa rtisse with the other creatures in search of a place to call home again and I was raised as an elf baby like the others, now I understood the reason for those half sentences and certain looks, everyone expected me to "transform" before or then, I found it hard to believe my ears, I heard the words of the elven mother who told me that the "creatures" lied and cheated at the first opportunity, I changed my mind when the succubus approached cautiously and took off my cloak touching the birthmark of the moon that I had under my shoulder .. she turned around showing me the same birthmark, every succubus inherits a birthmark from his mother, I wanted to know more and I decided to hide in the tent of his .. of our species, until the elves were left again, fortunately the elves did not come near the tents of succubus and nightmares for any reason making me go unnoticed. The first night a group of demons enter the tent to meet me, I am the first war cub they have seen in centuries, "You are beautiful .." says what looks like a puppy a little bigger than me, tall, with almost black skin with beautiful red tattoos that enhanced his body, shiny black wings and horns, ".. what's your name?" , "I'm Artemisia" I reply continuing to stare at him, Samara smiles, "Well Artemisia you are beautiful, I'm sure that when they grow up you will have wonderful horns .." he covers me with compliments that I'm not used to, ".. you are so young you still don't even have wings" he doesn't say it to make fun of me, "Kaleb that does not depend on her age but on who her parents are" explains the young witch who is called Zaphira, "His father was an elf that's why he has that color skin and blue hair", "I like the color of your skin .." says Kaleb to When I touch my face, I don't move from that touch, "... like Lilith's silver gray, a moon-colored tattoo would be perfect", they cover me with questions, they want to know everything about me, "..I like to shoot with a bow .." I answer yet another question, Kaleb sits next to me continuing to touch my face and back, when he intertwines his fingers with mine between us it passes like a shock, my blood boils is a new and exciting sensation, I realize that, excluding myself and the witches, demons and succubi are naked, I get up and take off those elven clothes that are now tight to me, my mother smiles sitting next to me, "My little one, you don't know the joy of having you here" she says squeezing me, "I loved your father deeply, and I immediately loved you as soon as I found out I was expecting you" she tells me about the process, the pregnancy, the suspicions and my birth, "When I left the Canopy after the war I was destroyed by grief, your father was exiled and when you were born they said you were dead .. " tears of rage run down her face," .. we dark races have built this city .. " , "This is not a city mother.. it is little more than a refuge .." I say angrily thinking of the magnificence of the Canopy and Hindafjel, ".. but we can build a city ..", I am determined I do not want to live like an animal let alone that my race live like that, I spend the whole next day asking questions about our race and the other inhabitants of Medveja, Kaleb does not leave me alone for a second, "The werewolves are incredible hunters, they are the ones who procure the meat for the whole city and who tan the skins that we exchange with the elves .." he explains cheerfully, ".. then there are the orcs and the giants who, as you know, are gunsmiths. incomparable .. ", "I know well" i replied pulling out my bow, "They forged this .. the red-eyed elves I saw when I arrived instead?" I ask not having seen them around, "They are not elves, NEVER call them elves .." Kaleb laughs, "They are vampires, they look like elves .. the most beautiful you will ever see, as we attract other races .." he explains, "..we do it to get sex and pleasure, they drink their blood to feed themselves ", I stare at him dismay, I have so much to learn and I only know nonsense about my race and others, anger rises, how the elves have allowed themselves to snatch puppies from their mothers, how they dare to treat other races like scraps, again I feel the my blood boiling .. this time with anger and blind hatred, I want to go back to the Canopy in search of answers.

[1a-imagines]

Forget me not

Fairy!Izuku x reader

A/n: It’s here!! The post I've been making every one worry about for the past week, I hope you all enjoy. :) 

This is Day 3 of the Izumonth collab!! You can find the announcement post here. 

If you squint there is angst.

Word count: 5500+ words.

Overview: You've waited years for him to come back, when you find him again; what secrets will you share under the moonlit sky?

Laughter echoed in the open air, the sun peeking up over the horizon signalling the start of morning. Most of the world was asleep, but this back garden was as lively as ever. Little feet raced around the garden with purpose. A child, no older than 10, chased a ball of green light around the grassy terrain.

You jumped over toys, crawled under the slide, hid behind trees and bushes to trick your opponent into a false sense of security. Anything to win this game he had challenged you to.

You stood as still as you could from behind the tree trunk, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Finally, a green glow entered your peripheral vision and you jumped for it.

Your chubby fingers outstretched, both hands clasping around the light as you captured the target.

"Gotcha Izu'!" You laughed, opening your hands as you brought them up to your face. The glow from his wings bounced off your skin, accentuating your cute, childish, features.

The fairy rubbed his head sitting in the middle of your palms, giggling,  "I was going easy on you!"

He flew up, getting level with your face. You hummed in a mocking tone, not believing him. He pressed his lips together, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Well, if that was so easy for you then how about you try catching all of us!" He exclaimed.

More glowing lights emerged from beyond the bushes in your garden. Each one a different colour, red, blue, yellow, white. Only when they got up close could you see the outlines of their bodies. You had expected fairies to be smaller than they were. They were about the size of your palms and according to them, they were still growing. You wonder how they would compare to you when you got older.

You huffed, stomping your foot on the floor with a pout. "Fine! I'll do it! But after we're paying hide and seek, ok? We only have one hour until my family wakes up!"  

Izuku nodded, flying over to his friends with a grin. "I promise! Now come catch us!"

You smiled at the memory. Remembering how that night was filled with laughter and games. Even as a ten year old staying awake all night, you never got sleepy. Whenever the moon was up, you and your friends went out to play. It was the only time they came to visit you. All night you would be awake, laughing, singing and playing with them in your secret garden.

It surprised you, the memory was so vivid in your mind, like it had happened merely a day ago. As time went by, childhood memories started to fade, making them feel more like dreams than reality.

You bent down, your eye peering through the door of the little mushroom house. Just as you had expected, it was empty. You sat back on your knees, letting out a hefty sigh.

The handcrafted house brought back so many childhood memories. Memories that in one way made you happy, and in another way stung your heart like a thousand wasps.

You used to see the fairies everyday, hiding around your garden, in bushes, behind mushrooms. They particularly liked your flower beds and vegetable patches. It was where you often found them sneaking around, as if playing a never ending game of hide and seek.

Eventually, they approach you, and they become your mystical secrets. There was one in particular, your little forest haired fairy. Even before you became friends he would smile and wave at you from behind flowers and leaves.

He was too shy to talk to you at first but with time he made his way to you. His friends soon followed his suit and began talking and playing with you. As much as you adored all of them, there was just something about Izuku that made you feel more attached to him. He came to visit you almost every night, sometimes flying through your bedroom window, where you would read him stories or vise versa, until you fell asleep.

There were so many fond memories he had left you with.

You reached out a hand, caressing the petals of a nearby snowdrop, more memories flashing through your mind.  

They always adored your garden, how it was filled with different flowers and vegetables. In honour of them you continued to upkeep it. Never a day went by that you weren't in your garden, pulling out weeds, watering the colourful array of flowers, tending the vegetable patches. You wished to create the perfect human-made fairy garden in the world, for them to come play and relax, laugh and dance just as you used to in your childhood days. You even went as far as making houses for them, each one filled with miniature furniture you had hand crafted yourself.

You had dedicated so much time to them. Put your heart and soul into everything you made, not a leaf out of place in your perfect garden.

So why haven't they come back? It has been six years and you haven't received so much as a goodbye from them. They just stopped coming to see you.

Your family had always brushed off your claims of fairies visiting the garden as just your childish imagination running wild, but you were much older now. Your obsession was starting to worry them. You mother thought it was nice you had such a big imagination, the rest of them called you crazy and childish.

Despite their words, you couldn't bring yourself to believe that it was all just mere imagination. They were real, you talked to them, you played and danced with them, and you were going to prove them all wrong!

Your beliefs had stood strong for six whole years, but after reciting the same old routine of tending your fairy garden and checking the small mushroom houses, everyday single day. Your beliefs were dwindling.

Where had they gone? The more days that went by, days without signs of your magical friends, days that consisted of you being mocked and ridiculed by your family. You couldn't help but lose a little faith. Fears starting to invade the cracks left in your heart, fears of never seeing them again, fears of them never having existed in the first place.

Despite the ever growing shadow on your face, you continued your weekly routine of cleaning the mushroom houses. Even if they never came back, it would be a waste to let all your hard work catch dust. You couldn't even begin to guess how many hours you had spent on this project.

You grabbed a cloth and unclipped the roof from the walls so you could clean all the nooks and crannies, Beginning with the first house you had ever crafted. It was rounded like a fat mushroom, the roof was a dark green with lighter green polka dots decorating it. It was your favourite design, Made carefully and with a little green haired friend of yours in mind.  

It had taken you months to finish this house alone, your face scrunched up remembering all the cuts, bruises and burns you had gotten in the process. It hadn't been easy, and a few times you almost gave up completely. However, seeing the fairy-sized bed, with small sewn duvets on top of it, an actual working fireplace, a kitchen with running water and a stove. It was all worth it. Who else could say they had tiny, fully functional, homes in their back garden?

You wrapped the cloth around your index finger, it was slightly damp, you used it to clean the floor first. Removing some of the furniture so it would be out of your way.

You picked up the couch, but once it was out of the way you noticed the floor was shining. Not from your careful cleaning but it looked like tiny green glitter had fallen to the ground.

Your heart stopped.

Tiny green glitter? Could it be? You used your finger to poke at the glitter, it clung to your skin and you brought it up to your eyes. How could something so small feel so familiar? They were like tiny green sparkles of hope.

Had he been here recently?

Your head shot up and you looked around for any more signs of life, rummaging through the other houses, the flower beds, the vegetable patches, anything you could think of.

As usual, you didn't find anything, yet you stood, grinning from ear to ear at the thought of not being crazy after all. Maybe they had been coming back and you hadn't noticed!?

You placed all the furniture back and put the roof on top of the house. If he had been coming back, then you had to find him! Just like when you were younger, you were going to play a game of hide and seek, but this time you were serious.

You were going to prove to everyone that you weren't crazy. You were going to prove that fairies are real! Most importantly, you might get to see your old friends again!

That very night you sat, curled up, by the window. The log fire offered a dim glow across the room, you didn’t want the lights to be on, fearing it could dissuade them from coming back. You draped a blanket over your shoulders, watching the mushroom house, your eyes not daring to move away in fear you would miss something.

Your family had tried to talk you out of this, telling you it was unhealthy to be so obsessed over this after you shared your findings over dinner. You still remembered the twisted frowns on their faces, even your mother looked worried for you. You sighed, head dipping down. Maybe they had a point, but after dedicating years to these fairies how could you just give up on them? Especially not now that you had a sign of their existence.

Hours went by, the log fire burning out along your hope, leaving behind nothing but a pile of  blackened ash.

The moon was high into the sky, illuminating your garden. It looked exactly like it used to when you would stay away with the fairies all night. Except now, instead of toys, there were more vegetable patches and flower beds scattering the grass floor. As you looked out at it, ghosted memories flooded back to you. You could almost see your childhood self running around with them again.

You felt your eyes droop. What time was it? You weren't sure, all you could do was battle with your body for the ability to stay awake.

Your head was snug in the crease of your arm, the blanket falling from your shoulder. When the blanket finally fell off and hit your feet, it startled you awake. You gasped, your body jolting up as you slapped yourself awake. How could you almost doze off?! What if you had missed something!? You pulled the blanket back around you and leaned onto the window. The cold glass against your skin made you shiver, but it helped keep you awake.

The moon disappeared above your house, but your garden stayed illuminated by its light. It looked enchanting, like there was a spotlight on your garden and the audience was the universe. Through the beam of light your eyes caught sight of something, you rubbed your eye, wondering if it was just your imagination.

You gasped, diving behind the couch, your eyes the only part of you peeking out behind your cover, like an animal waiting to pounce on its prey. A trail of green dust danced in the wind, enticing you to follow it. You shot up from your seat and walked to the back door, as you pulled it open you prayed it wouldn’t creak too loudly and alert your visitor. You bit your lip, creating a gap just big enough for you to slip out of and walked across the garden, the grass tickling at your bare feet.

Your eyes widened, seeing the lights in the house on, you knelt down. Your legs were shaking so you steadied yourself with your hands. The door was shut, you knew this was your only chance to know the truth, to prove you weren’t crazy, and if it really was him, you could finally get some answers as to why he left. your hands were shaking as you were overcome with emotion, you hesitated to move, what if the answers weren’t going to be what you were looking for. Ignorance is bliss as they say.

You sat there, unmoving, knees tucked under your body and the chill of the night air caressing your skin. You could hear the sounds of pot’s clanking from behind the door. Had you any courage you would have peered in already, but your anxieties were holding you back.

After taking a shaky breath and mentally hyping yourself up, you curled your index finger, it hovered above the doors surface as you pushed against an invisible barrier. You closed your eyes and knocked on the door. Everything went silent. The feeling of wanting to slap yourself grew as the seconds ticked by and not a movement was made. The pit of your stomach churned, it felt like you had been sat there for an eternity.

Much to your delight, the door was pulled open and out poked a familiar face. “Izu..” You breathed out, tears pricking at your eyes. You hand flew up to your mouth as you choked back a sob. He hadn’t changed much, he was bigger now, but still only around the size of your palm. His jade curls fell around his face, sticking up in all directions as if he had just rolled out of bed, his rounded eyes filled with inner conflict. The door wasn’t opened fully but you could still see his wings peeking out from behind him, glowing brighter than ever.. Leaves were sewn together to create clothes on his body. A creative yet uncomfortable way to avoid nudity. His eyes were staring up at you like you were a three headed monster, come to end his life. He was frozen in place.

Your lips parted, words threatened to spill from them. You weren’t sure what to say, you had thought about this moment so many times, about what you would say, and yet your mind was blank. As you wrecked your brain to form a sentence a slam brought you from your thoughts. You blinked, the door was shut before you even got to say anything. It felt like a giant slap to your face. After years of imagining the moment you would see your friends again, this was never an outcome you expected. Your hands slipped from your face, trembling in front of you.

You didn’t understand, didn’t he remember you? You still lived in the same house, your looks hadn't changed that much apart from getting taller and your chubby child features melting away, you were practically the same! Maybe he hated you? Maybe that's why he stayed away from you all these years. Thoughts swirled around your head like a whirlpool, your bottom lip quivered, tears rolling down your face.

No matter how much you were hurting, you were insistent on having a conversation with him. You finally had him back, the least he could do was give you some answers. You lifted your hand to knock again, but before your finger could tap on the wood it opened, revealing a much more bashful looking fairy than before. Instead of his usual green glow, he was now glowing pink. How strange...

“Sorry, I panicked.” He chose to look at his feet instead of your face, he couldn’t see. You let out a dry laugh, you tried to relax now he was in front of you again, but you could barely hold back the sobs. “Do you remember me?”

He nodded, his curls bouncing as he did so. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It felt like a dream but you knew it was real. The cold night air on your exposed skin, the sound of his voice as he admitted to panicking; Not even your imagination could be this vivid, he was here, in front of you.

“How could I ever forget you Y/n?” He rubbed his arm, holding himself for comfort. The blanket fell from your shoulders when your body finally relaxed. “You are real.” you breathed, gaze fixed on him.

Your outspoken confirmation had sent yet another slap to your face. You felt like you were being thrown into a frenzy. You swirling thoughts were making you dizzy. They were real, if your family could see him they would finally believe you! All those jokes about you being crazy would be put to an end! You’d be free from ridicule! All you would have to do is take him inside, “I- I have to show you to my family! They think i'm insane! But you’re real! You were all real, and-” You shot up from the ground, stumbling in the process from the erratic movement. “Please! You have to come with me-”

“No!” He panicked and flew up from the stone steps on the mushroom house to be face level with you. It had been so long since you were able to see him up close. “No one can know about us!”

“But-” You wanted to argue but one look in his eyes and you saw how scared he was. You looked down, biting your tongue from saying anything else. His eyes had always reminded you of the forest on a sunny day, peaceful, filled with warmth. So seeing them filled with sorrow had, theoretically, stabbed your heart. “Why did you show yourselves to me then?”

He expected you’d have many questions.. He sighed and slowly fluttered forward so he was closer to your face. It felt like you two were in your own personal bubble, the rest of the world trapped outside of your secret space.

“When we were children, my friends and I found you playing alone in your garden. Our parents never found out about it, we were interested in humans and didn’t see the harm in approaching you. We watched you for weeks, you were always alone but you seemed so nice. We were only going to do it once but, eventually, one day turned into everyday but what we did was stupid and very forbidden by our people. We had to stop before our parents found out if they had, they would have erased your memory using their magic. I didn’t-.. We didn’t want you to forget us.” He corrected, mentally kicking himself for the slip up

You hadn’t caught his slip up, your brain was trying to process the new information. At least you finally had the answers you had been looking for. It finally made sense, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

You sat back down on the grass, pulling your legs to your chest. They felt like jelly, and you didn’t trust them to support the rest of your body right now. Izuku flew down with you, hovering just above your legs. He took the break of silence to study your features. You looked a lot more mature now, as he assumed he did to you. You were both only 10 last time he saw you, now it had been about 6 years, a lot had changed yet you were still just as beautiful as he remembered you to be.

You remained silent, did you really have nothing to say to him? Or perhaps you were mad? The look on your face said otherwise, your features were relaxed yet your eyes seemed so distant. As if you were in another world to his. You weren’t sure how to feel, you had more questions now than ever before.

“Did you make these?” He finally found a way to break the silence, he gracefully glided down to the mushroom houses you had hidden amongst the blooming flowers. It was the perfect height for him, which was surprising. It was a beautifully designed house, he noted all the little details you had, each carved design was a pattern of passion. The fact you placed them into your flower beds made it even more perfect, it kept them surrounded by nature and beauty just like fairies loved to be. He wasn’t sure how you were able to know all of this, but it was the perfect fairy home, he really wished he would stay and live here in your garden. Not only for the beautiful environment you had created for them, but to see you everyday, to play and dance just like you used to do.

Your head lifted, a smile gracing your lips. “Yeah, I made them for you guys in case you ever came back.”

Your words struck him through the heart without the intent. He was facing away, his hand placed onto the frame of the door, caressing the hand carved design. He was guilt ridden, he had been for years but seeing this, how you waited for them to come back, it tore him up inside. He knew he should’ve said something before leaving you, he really tried to. His friends convinced him that he should be the one to deliver the message, you two had always had this unspoken bond as children.

However, when the time came, he couldn’t do it. He was nothing more than a coward. The words wouldn’t come out no matter how hard he tried to force them, like there was an invisible force squeezing at his neck, trapping the words in his throat. He didn’t want his last image of you to be a sad one. He didn’t want to have to fly away to the sounds of your cries. The thought crushed him, so he ran away from it, and now he was stuck regretting it for the rest of his life, he knew he couldn’t make up for what he did to you.“You have to leave again don’t you?”

Your voice ripped him from his thoughts, he dared not turn around. The sorrow in your voice was enough to make him wince. Just like the day he had left without warning, his voice failed him. He could barely manage a nod but you caught it. “For good?” Another nod, his head hung low, shoulder trembling. Suddenly feeling grateful for being sat down you hunched over. Your hair covering your eyes as you breathed out. Perhaps you would’ve been better off if this was a dream after all.

Another silence hung between you two, it was painful. The air felt heavy, a pressure weighing down on both of your shoulders that had built up over the last six years. Izuku shook his head, he couldn’t let things end like this. He couldn’t do it to you again. He may not be able to stay but there was something else he could do.

Tear’s silently escaped your eyes, falling onto the grass floor beneath you like sorrowful raindrops. You kept your eyes and mouth shut tight, you didn’t want him to see you crying before he left, but how could you not be upset by such a cruel fate? He had always taken up such a big part of your heart, and now he was telling you he was going to leave and you’d most likely never see each other again.

A pair of smaller hands cupped your cheeks, lifting your face up. Your tears soaked his hands but he didn’t mind. He smiled, rubbing at the wet trails on your cheeks with his forearm. Without a word between you, he flew down and grabbed one of your hands with both of his. He tugged at it and you stood up, allowing him to silently guide you.  He took you out of your back garden and into the forest that resided on the other side of your fence. The thought of going into a forest at night scared you, even with a trusted friend guiding you. The further you strayed from home the darker it got, trees obstructing the moon's light as you stepped into the forest. Izuku's green glow acted as a torch, keeping you safe from darkness.

After 5 minutes of walking in silence, your lips pulled into a frown, “Where are we going?” You finally asked with a bit of hesitance, one of his hands held onto your index finger, pulling you through the maze of trees with expertise. You stumbled and winced as stones and twigs poked at your bare feet like tiny needles. You had to rely on the glowing of your friend and what little of the moon's rays peaked through the trees to light your surroundings.

He didn’t reply to your question, but he didn’t need to. He guided you around a giant oak tree, and once you did your jaw dropped.

Fireflies danced around the open space between the trees, gathering together to create a soft golden glow in the cloud of darkness, like a million little lanterns floating in the sky. Flowers and vines decorated the trees wrapping around like snakes. There were no more stones and twigs for you to worry about as your feet hit the grass. It felt like a soft blanket under your sore feet. It was a grassy stage, the moon hit down on the open area like a spotlight, much like it had back in your garden. There were no overhanging branches that blocked it's path with shadows. It was enchanting, like something right out of a fairy tale.

Subconsciously you stepped forward into the light, your breath knocked out of you. You were so entranced by what you were seeing that you didn’t get to see the way Izuku was staring at you. It was something that you would never be able to see again. The way his lips curled up, eyes sparkling with fondness for you. The moon's light hit you perfectly, giving you a white glow, like an angel. Maybe you were an angel in disguise, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“It’s… amazing.” That was an understatement, but how were you supposed to put this into words? It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. He smiled and flew in front of you so he could take in your expression, your lips were parted and slightly curled at the edges. He could see the reflection of dancing fireflies in your doe eyes.

He couldn’t care less about the fireflies behind him. In his eyes, you were way more breathtaking, and to see your smile again after so many years, it made his heart melt.

"There's something else." He brushed past you, making you  finally snap from your trance. He flew over to a particularly large tree, there was a small circular hole in it, showing its hollowed out insides. He disappeared into, and when he came back he carried a vial with a strange blue liquid inside. "I was saving it for something special and I suppose there's nothing more special than being here, with you, right now." He pulled the cork out and drank the strange liquid.

You watched silently as a blue light circled around him soon engulfing him in a blinding light. You turned your head away and closed your away in fear of being permanently blinded. You didn’t know when it would be safe to turn back, so you waited until a hand cupped your face.

A much... larger hand. You opened your eyes, gasping when you saw your fairy was human sized, he was just a touch taller than you. The increase in his size made his features more prominent, you could finally see how handsome he really was. You could admire his freckles, the way his hair brushes against the top of his eyes, you even got a closer look at this leaf clothing. They were skilfully stitched to fit his body, you wondered if he did it himself.

He smiled, watching you lean into his hand, nuzzling into his hold.. "Care to dance?" He asked softly, the pad of his thumb brushing over your cheek. Such a simple action, yet it held so much love, you felt breathless. Your heart was beating too fast for your lungs to keep up with.

You nodded and stepped forward. His hands placed themselves on your waist as your hands went up to his shoulders. His hands trembled, his touch feather-like, as if he was scared to break you.

The lack of music didn't bother either of you, with the orange glow of the fireflies, the moon's lights shining down on you, and the blissful sounds of nature, it was perfect the way it was. You followed his lead as you swayed back and forth together, this offer to dance had been nothing more than an excuse to hold you close one last time. It didn't matter that neither of you knew how to slow dance, or that you were in your nightgown, barefooted. You were in each other's arms and that was all that mattered.

Before he knew it, your head was resting against his shoulder, a melodic light humming filled his left ear. It sent shivers down his spine, his wings fluttering behind him as you hummed a secret song. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against yours, your hair tickled his nose as he tried to memorise your scent. He wanted this moment to be engraved into his brain forever.

You slow danced for so long, he had lost track of time. Neither of you were willing to let go, it was too hard to do this again. Everything felt so perfect, so tranquil. like you were the only two people in the world.

He finally got the willpower to peek his eye open, the sun's rays peeking over the horizon and disturbing the moon's glow. The stars, that were witness to your dance, were disappearing from the sky. It was time to go, yet you were blissfully unaware of this as you continued to hum into his ear. You hadn’t opened your eyes a single time since you’ve been in his arms, you were too scared to open them and have to face reality.

With every ounce of strength he had in his body his hands trailed up to your shoulders, memorising the feeling of your skin, he hesitantly pushed you away. He held you at arm length, your eyes opening and staring into his.

You looked scared.

He smiled at you, moving forward to rest his forehead against yours. "Close your eyes." He whispered, and without hesitation your eyes fluttered close. Your hand gripped onto his, as a way to make sure he wasn't going to disappear.

He released a shaky breath as he took your hand into both of his. Cupping it protectively. After a few seconds of nothing but shuffling, you felt something being placed into your palm. It was thin and light, you almost peaked an eye open but one hand came up to cover your eyes.

You patiently stood there, not daring to question what he was up to. A few seconds went by before you felt a feather-like kiss being placed onto your lips. You sharply inhaled through your nose. His kiss lingered for a long time, silently telling you he loved you. His hand squeezed yours when you kissed back, eagerly leaning into the affection. Lips moulded together, with no haste to pull away anytime soon.

When his lips reluctantly left yours, the hand covering your eyes didn't move. You smiled, your heart racing at the sweet gesture. His hand fell away, but your eyes remained closed, you felt another kiss be placed on top of your head, his nose bumping against your skin.

“I love you.” He whispered, a quiet confession confined to your shared bubble.

He pulled away, his hand releasing yours. You waited for him to do something else, to tell you to open your eyes now, but there was nothing…You figured he was done and so you opened your eyes. You gasped for breath, placing a hand over your heart. It felt like a knife had stabbed through your chest.

He was gone.

The fireflies had disappeared, the moon had disappeared, and so had your beloved fairy. The only sign that he had really been here was the lingering feeling of his lips on yours, they tingled with leftover electricity.  

Looking down to the gift he had left you, you found a flower, a forget-me-not to be exact.

You swallowed, eyes stinging as pools of tears gathered in the corners. You used your fingers to gently caress the petals. It figures that he would choose to leave you with this of all flowers.

You held it close to your chest, staring up at the newly lit sky, the sun cast orange hues over the forest, it was beautiful, but you couldn’t admire it, too bitter at the star for ruining your night. You wanted to see the moon again, to dance under the stars for hours more,

"As if I could forget you." You let out a breathy laugh, closing your eyes so you could pretend it was still night. "I love you too."

[lilacheart30]

Suddenly have a thought about the returning spirits, so I wrote it out as a story:

Return Of the Homies

With the quest givers, it’s just another boring day of work.

In ark, you see a hoard of silhouettes storming in the entrance, leaving trails of footprints and dusts flying in the air behind them. You wonder, what could that be as it’s been a while since you’ve seen this many people coming in ark at the same time.

As the silhouettes move closer, your eyes glistened. Could that be? No, impossible! The familiar scent of herbs, the pungent smell of potions, the aromatic smell of spices and white mushrooms, and the smell of oil paint too! It must be!

“HEEEEYYYY! CAN YOU HEAR ME HOMIE?! ITS YOUR CRAB DUDE! REMEMBER MY CRAB DANCE?!

“Crab Walker! I can’t believe it!” said the quest giver

“WE’RE BACK BROTHER ENCHANTMENT!” Voices of two ladies rung in your ears from a closing distance

“HOW’S IT GOING KID!” An old, familiar voice too

“MISS ME? I BET YOU DID— ARGH DAMN IT STOP PECKING ME ALREADY YOU AVIANS” An annoying voice, but it definitely brought tears to your eyes

Finally, their faces became as clear as the day. Or maybe not, your overflowing tears blurred your vision after all.

“SURPRISE!!!”

Quite a surprise, but a welcoming one.

Two realms away, a lonely figure bathed in the sunlight as they watched the mantas fly freely together in the skies. The sounds of the waterfalls nearby reminds you of laughter somehow, which had not been heard for ages.

Little did you know, laughter would fill the islands in no time as a manta noticed the return of six travellers waving to them, as if implying the manta to carry them down to the lonely figure on the main island.

“I can’t wait to see mama again!”

“Don’t we all? Mama was so lonely here even when the two of us came to visit. Also, GEYSERS HERE I COME!”

“Man I miss chilling in the sun here, oh and those nasty little crabs were quite the delicacy too!”

“I wonder how’s my jellyfishes doing.”

“I hope my shell collections are still here, I can’t find it anywhere in my luggage! Must’ve forgotten about it before we left.”

“Tch, why do we even leave here in the first place! Even if I hate the sunlight, the mountains, the mantas, everything here, that doesn’t mean I want to go!” Said the hiking grouch angrily.

“Oh we all know you love everything here, you’re just too shy to admit it isn’t it?”

“Shut up sunbather!” Said the hiking grouch as his face blushed into a shade of red.

One realm away, in the dark and eerie caves filled with murals no one understood, a tall figure with mask that resembles a wolf, or a jackal stands by a pile of stacked rocks with symbols on every one of them.

“Sigh, if only those four are here with me, we could’ve tried out some funny stage plays together like how we used to.”

(Inspired by these discord messages)

“Seriously? We came all the way back here and that’s all you have to say for us Jackal-face?”

“What the— Water prophet!”

“Did someone polish the floors of my air trial properly? Oh and the geysers too! Can’t risk the air trapped cause the kids can’t fly high enough!”

“Don’t forget me as well! Your prophets are all back! I hope my earth trial is in good condition as well, after all...”

“We’re ready to put more kids through the trials! Oh and how’s my worms doing? Did you feed them well?”

Now let’s move another three realms back, in a village covered in snow with frozen lakes.

“I wonder how’s my baby doing? Is she having fun skating around the world? Brrr, it’s getting cold here too. I wonder when will I get a cape.”

“Here’s a cape for you, my friend!” Said a silvery voice, as a familiar, fluffy, blacks and red cape adorned with white spots wraps you up.

“Ohh! You startled me! Wait, aren’t you—”

“Incoming delivery!” A red figure skates out from the alleys of the villages, crashing into the arms of the lady.

“Postman!”

Nearby, you hear the melody of a stringed instrument approaching, accompanied with the smell of sake.

“Dancing performer!”

“It is I, indeed!”

“Oh my! Everyone is here! What about my sweet little girl?”

“Mama!” A sweet voice, accompanied with the warmth of two arms wraps you up from behind.

Back in a treehouse, a child sobbed in the torch lit basement.

“I mustn’t cry, I must be a brave guest giver right? Right? I—”

Out of nowhere, footsteps of many approached the treehouse

“Hey, wheres quest giver? I thought he’d be in the treehouse?” Said a girl with green ribbons in her hair.

“Maybe he went picking flowers to welcome us?” Said a girl with flowers in her hair innocently.

“Hmm, I don’t see his trumpet or even his shadow here. The hoops are safely stored away too. He must be away right now.”

“I searched the gardens, the plants have been watered but he isn’t there either.”

“Oh no! He must be lost on his way back here! There’s no way he’s away for so long that we missed him!”

“That jerk! Bet he’s partying with the grown-ups! Imagine all the good food he’s having with them!”

They’re back?

Scolding student: “Say, Why not we hold a surprise party for him while he’s away right now?”

Scaredy Cadet: “It’s not a bad idea, but we don’t know when he will be back!”

Chuckling Scout: “It doesn’t matter if we are fast enough! I’ve already put up all the hoops and readied the pool party!”

Daydream forester: “Ooo great job! But what about the snacks?”

Marching Adventurer: “That isn’t something to worry! We have some snacks stored back at our treehouse!”

Scolding student: “Perfect! Now all that’s left is preparations for our sleepover party! You two! Go grab our blankets back at your treehouse!”

Daydream Forester and Chuckling Scout: “Aye aye, Captain!”

“You, stay here and ready the hammocks with me!”

Scaredy Cadet: “Aye aye captain!”

As everyone went their ways, quest giver slowly creeped out of the basement, in an attempt to not spoil the surprise his friend planned for him. Luck for him, they were too busy to notice anything. He decided to hide in the trees, and observe his friends before they finished all their preparations.

Tried my best to write a story in my mind, hope you enjoyed it!

[icequeenoriginal]

What if you made a fanfic where bowceit puts a spell on roman where roman sees bowceit as virgil and virgil as bowceit

Author’s Note: I am so so so so so so so sorry. You asked this over a year ago, maybe longer but I got so distracted that I did not get to it until now. I was never going to abandon this, even if the AU is basically over. I hope it was worth the wait. I love the prompt by the way.

Mario AU belongs to @sugarglider-s

A03 link 

Warning: Brainwashing, mistaken identity, misunderstanding, fighting, villain but sympathetic Deceit, crying, yelling (Let me know if I missed anything)

Pairings: Prinxiety and Logicality 

Title: The Original is Always Better

~

It was supposed to be a fun day.

It was rare for Patton’s and Roman’s free days to line up with one another, even rarer for Patton’s, Logan’s, Virgil’s, and Roman’s free days to line up but on a Saturday at the end of the month, the stars finally aligned for such a thing to occur. They would have to thanks Remy next time they see him. 

Patton had come up with an idea for them to have a picnic on Emile’s island. They could make a whole trip out of it. They could visit Emile, swim in the ocean, lay on the beach. 

“That sounds like a perfect idea dear,” Logan replied, which made Patton smile and blush.

Roman nodded, “I can bring my beach ball, I haven’t used it in ages!”

“Could be nice to get some sun for once,” Virgil added.

And so the day was set, they would leave before sunrise in Patton’s pink plane. That way they could get as much of the day in as possible and a certain snake wouldn’t see them leaving the Mushroom Kingdom.

Patton and Logan spent the day before preparing the food as well as packing. Roman and Virgil meanwhile, came up with games as they packed. 

It was going to be a great day.

Keyword: Was.

~

As the main four were happily planning their getaway, Bowciet was sulking in his throne room, nothing his servants weren’t used to. 

He had suffered another bitter defeat by the Sarcastic Brothers. Plan after plan, he could never win. He would get so close and those annoying jumping brothers would always stupidly find a way to beat him. 

And the worst part? After they were rescued, the princes would go on and on about how they were so happy that they were saved by their wonderful boyfriends.

“What do those princes even see in those two lowlife peasants plumbers anyway?!” Bowciet exclaimed.

“Because they’re cool?” A Gomba suggested.

“Because they are kind?” A Koopa offered.

“Because they don’t kidnap them?” A hammer bro adds.

Bowciet growled and blew fire at them, making them run out of the room in pain and fear. Bowciet slumps back into his chair.

What his minions said was absolutely ridiculous. They were completely not cool, cool people do not ruin the plans of a king! They were both a four at best and they weren’t THAT strong. Logan could jump pretty high sure, but he was as boring as a textbook. How could Prince Patton ever be attracted to that? And Virgil, an anxious freak who jumps at his own shadow, Roman likes that?

Bowceit knew he would be a much better match for the princes but they never give him a chance to prove it. They usually turn their back to him when he puts them in their cells and ignores him. How rude of them. 

No matter how many presents and compliments he gives, they never give him a chance. Roman even had to gall say they both could not stand the sight of him.

Wait.

They could not stand the sight of him.

But they could stand the sight of those plumbers.

Bowciet smirked, his newest plan was forming in his mind. 

He summoned a Magikoopa to his throne room.

“Yes, your majesty?” The Magikoopa said as it entered the room.

“I need you to make me a spell, as quickly as possible.”“What kind, your majesty?”Bowceit smirked, “Illusion”

~

As much as Virgil hates getting out of bed early, and boy does he hate it, he was very happy to find out that the seats on Patton’s plane leaned as flatly as possible. He sleeps through the entire plane ride with Roman run his fingers through his hair. Virgil breathes in Roman’s scent. He smells like the flowers in his garden and the tea he makes. Mainly honeysuckle and strawberry, it causes Virgil to dream of running through the fields with Roman. It is them alone, with only the flower-covered valleys and the warm sun. 

In his dream, Roman’s smile rivals the sun, as if it doesn’t do that in the real world. Dream Roman runs a bit of head, a gap is starting to form between them. It made Virgil a bit nervous but Roman only looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Follow me!” Dream Roman shouts happily, “Don’t stop following me.”“Never” Virgil whispers.After a few more minutes of Virgil chasing Dream Roman, Dream Roman stops and stands in the middle of the endless field. 

Virgil stops a few feet behind him and pants, trying to catch his breath. Dream Roman turns to face him and lifts up Virgil’s chin gently. Virgil blushes and Dream Roman smiles at him.

Dream Roman smiles back and says, “It’s time to wake up Virgil.”

The dream ends as Virgil begins to blink, he feels someone is shaking him awake. He turns to the source of the shaking before immediately freezing when seeing how close Roman’s face is to his.

It did not matter that this was how Virgil normally wakes up, Roman always makes him freeze with how beautiful he is. Virgil can’t help himself as he scans every feature of Roman’s face as if he was seeing Roman for the first time.

Roman smiles softly at him, flashing his pearly white teeth, “Hey sleepyhead, we are here.”

Virgil nods quickly, face completely red with blush. “T-Thanks Ro.”

Roman kisses his forehead before pulling him up and out of his seat. Virgil can barely keep up as Roman runs out of the plane, having to hold down his hat as they go. 

Virgil has to squint when the light suddenly hits his eyes. Once his eyes adjust, he gasps at the sight in front of him. The beach sand is crystal white and very warm when Virgil touches it. The water is cyan blue, so clear that you can see the fish swim through it. The palm trees are ten times Virgil high with huge lush leaves. It wasn’t like Virgil hadn’t been to Emile’s island before but you don’t really have time to stop and smell the roses when an evil snake monster kidnaps your boyfriend.

Patton quickly rips off his shirt and jumps into the ocean to swim around, having changed into his swimsuit on the plane. Logan soon joins him, making sure to put out the picnic blanket and the picnic basket.

Virgil yawns, “I think I’m going to take another nap. The warm sand is just too tempting.”Roman giggles, “Okay then babe. I’m going to make a sandcastle next to you then.”Virgil had to physically stop himself from swooning. He knew that Roman had a bunch of stuff planned for them to do together and Virgil knew that Roman generally did not want to give up what he comes up with but he always does it for Virgil. Virgil is always his priority. 

Virgil pulls Roman into a kiss before laying down. 

Roman blushes, “What was that for?” Virgil wasn’t always one to initiate kisses.

Virgil covers his face with his hat to block out the sun and to hide his blush, “Just felt like it.”

Roman smiles at Virgil, his heart soaring with love for his boyfriend. Virgil always found a way to be sweet without trying. It was one of the things Roman loved about him.

~

Virgil woke up again to someone shaking him. This time it was his brother so Virgil was far less jumpy this time.

“What’s up, bro?” Virgil asked sleepily 

“We are about to eat lunch and I figured you would want some,” Logan replies 

“Lunchtime? How long have I been asleep?”

“You slept through the entire morning.”

“Did I miss anything?”“You missed Roman joining us in the ocean then he and Patton make this giant sandcastle,” Logan says as he points to a sandcastle that is about two stories tall. It looks like a miniature version of Patton’s castle except on the front, instead of a glass window with Patton holding a rose, it is a drawing of Patton and Roman made into the sand. Roman peeks his head out of the sand castle’s window and waves, “Virgil! My love! You are awake! Look what we made!” 

Virgil’s eyes widen in shock at how big the castle is and how it can hold both Roman and Patton. Roman does not seem to notice this as he exits the sandcastle with Patton.

They all sit on the picnic blanket and Patton serves the food. They eat are given their favorite sandwiches and favorite kind of chips. Patton also packed potato and macaroni salad for them all to share. 

“What do you guys want to do next?” Roman asks between bites.

“Hmm…Oh! What if we went for a walk around the island?” Patton suggests.

“That sounds absolutely wonderful Patton! I have been meaning to take note of the flowers around here to expand my garden!” Roman replies

Virgil snickers, “Do you even have any garden space left Princey?”

Roman waves him off, “I can just start a fourth garden.”“FOURTH?!”

“Instead of debating Roman’s plant obsession, we should finish our lunch so we can begin our walk,” Logan says while waving his hand to silence his brother and his brother’s boyfriend.

The other three nod in agreement and eat their food in relative silence.

~

Once they pack up their things and changed on Patton’s plane, the four head deeper into the island. They pass by plants and bushes that are twice their size but they oddly seem to be walking on a mostly clear path. Roman runs a bit ahead, hardly able to contain his squeals as he sees all the plants in front of him. He scribes a quick drawing of them into his little orange notebook. Virgil is standing next to him, holding his umbrella and smiling at his boyfriend’s antics. He adored Roman’s passion and will do anything to not let that fire die.

Eventually, the four come across an empty field. It has patches of leaves all around it. They all look at one another, something feels off. It seemed too quiet, none of them were used to pure quiet.

Patton squats in front of one of the patches of leaves. “It looks like the bed Emile has.”

Logan nods “The Emiles must collect leaves and make beds that they sleep on.”

“Why aren’t any of them here?” Virgil asks, nervousness creeping into his voice. 

“They might all be doing something right now.” Roman offers, hoping to calm his boyfriend.

No one else replied, there was no way it was something as simple as that, it never was. Patton moves to investigate another pile of leaves when it suddenly begins to shake. Before Patton can react, a Goomba jumps out, causing Patton to yelp. Patton falls on his back as the Goomba lands just by his head. Logan quickly stomps on it and helps Patton up.

Two dozen more Goomba jumps out from under the other piles of leaves surround the four of them. The four each take out six Goombas but don’t have time to celebrate when more of Bowceit’s minions surround them. 

Roman bursts into laughter “No originality Bowceit? Oh well! I’m going to make this fun for me! Whoever defeats the most minions gets the first swing on Bowceit!”Logan, Virgil, and Patton all exchange a look before all smiling and nodding. Unbeknownst to them, Bowceit was smiling too, his plan was working exactly as he expected. 

The four fought the Koopas, not noticing that they were being moved further and further away from each other. They push Logan and Virgil to one side of the field and Patton and Roman to the other side. Once they were where Bowceit wanted them, he sent Hammer Bros. towards them.  They throw their hammers between the two groups, forcing all four of them to be on their own and surrounded by Koopas. 

Bowceit smirks and walks out from behind the tree, receiving glares from all of them. “Well, well, well…look what the Koopas dragged in.”

All four of them groan, making Bowceit hiss at all of them. “Rude.”

“What do you want Bowceit, this time?” Logan says, annoyance and bitterness dripping from his mouth. 

“Oh please Logan, as if you do not know,” Bowceit replies as he looks at his gloved fingers.

Logan rolls eyes, “Of course…well since you are up to your old tricks, I might as well use mine!” Logan then jumps up in the air, well over the enemies. He lands a punch square into Bowceit’s jaw. As the two begin to scuffle, Virgil takes out the Koopas on their side to go help Logan fight Bowceit. 

On the other side, Roman starts to take out the Koopas near him. That is when he notices that the Koopas near him and Patton are running towards Virgil. Roman immediately feels suspicious. Bowceit normally sends the most amount of Koopas at Roman. He looks around and that’s when he spots it.

A magikoopa, directly diagonal from Patton waving its wand, ready to cast a spell. Roman runs to Patton as fast as he can.

“PATTON!” Roman yellsPatton turns to him confused, “Huh?!”The magikoopa fires the spell.

Roman shoves Patton out of the way and yells in pain as the spell hits him and knocks him to the ground. 

“ROMAN!” Virgil shouts and jumps over the group of Koopas. Logan kicks Bowceit away from and turns to the group of Koopas, ready to take them out so they can’t stop Virgil. He pauses, confused when he sees that they are not following Virgil, just standing. Logan turns his head to Bowceit and sees him smirking. 

Virgil quickly helps Roman up, “Ro! Are you alright?”

Roman blinks at him before grabbing his arm and throwing him across the field. Everyone but Bowceit freezes in shock. Virgil hits a tree and rubs the back of his head in confusion.”

Bowceit smiles, “Not the one I was intending,” Bowceit shrugs, “But I can’t complain!” Bowceit walks to Roman and smiles, opening his arms. “Excellent throw my dear”

Roman giggles and blushes. Bowceit takes cups his face and Roman leans into his touch, shattering Virgil’s heart.

Bowceit turns his head to Virgil with the evilest grin on his face as he carcasses Roman’s cheek. 

Virgil went numb. 

Virgil will be the first to admit he has a lot of fears. Some odd like jumping too high he gets lost in space and some serious like burning to death in lava. This, however, was worse than any fear of his.

Bowceit winning. 

He had gotten one of the princes. His prince. His Princey. And Roman looked happy in his arms. Roman’s normally kind and playful grin was replaced by a devilish and evil grin. And his eyes…

Oh god, his eyes.

One thing Virgil loved to do was just stare into Roman’s eyes. Roman’s eyes are normally warm, brown, and playful. His eyes now…they were ice blue. Piercing ice blue that sent daggers into Virgil’s heart. 

Bowceit picks up Roman bride style pulling the giggling prince close. Bowceit sends him a wink and runs off with Roman. 

Logan, who has been frozen in shock the entire time, takes a step forward only to have to dodge a hammer throw at his head. Logan narrows his eyes at them but something purple catches his eyes.

Logan sees his brother shaking, on the verge of tears. Logan is livid. He jumps up and stomps down hard on two Goombas. He angrily but silently takes out the rest of Bowceit’s minion in the area. Logan is panting by the time he is finished but ignores it to run over and check on Virgil.

Virgil clings onto his brother as he tries to get himself to breathe. This was not the time to panic, but it was also the perfect time to panic. Did this have to be Virgil’s life right now?

It took a while but Virgil was finally able to get his breathing normal enough to think straight. Patton made sure to give him a big hug just to make sure.

“Okay, okay,” Virgil pulls away from him “So what the heck just happened?!”“Language!” Patton shouted. Just because it is a stressful situation does not mean he will be allowed to curse.

Virgil blinked at him before shaking his head, “What happened to Roman?”

Logan pauses for a moment before replying, “Clearly, he has been brainwashed in some way. Most likely by whatever that spell was.”

“Right, right, great, great! Now how do we fix it?!” Virgil asks, already feeling his panic returning. 

“Well, it’s a spell, right? We need to find a magikoopa,” Logan offered.

Virgil nods, “Right, right. That makes sense. Of course, it makes sense. Is it always this hard to breathe?” Virgil says as he pants.

Patton pats his back as Virgil tries again to catch his breath. 

Logan puts his hands on Virgil’s shoulders, “Virgil. You are my brother. I will do anything for you. I will get Roman back.”

Virgil smiles and puts his hand on one of Logan’s hands, “Thanks bro, now let’s go kick some magikoopa butt!”

~Roman laughs as “Virgil” carries him through the island. “Virgil” jumped through the air, making Roman hold onto him tightly.

This was surprising to Roman. Virgil was never this energetic after a fight Bowceit. Though, to be fair to him, this time did not require traveling through nine different worlds to get to said fight. 

Roman was happy about this small change. Normally his poor stormcloud would be too drained to want to do anything but cuddle in their shared bed. Roman wouldn’t mind if it was because Virgil enjoyed it, he minded that it was the only thing his love could physically do that did not strain his body.

Well, now was not the time to think about that. Now was the time to admire “Virgil’s” jumping skills. He knew both Logan and Virgil hated their jumping ability but that did not make it any less impressive. Though, Roman did think it was odd that “Virgil” seemed to land so loudly. He figured Virgil would be the lightest on his feet, after Patton and him of course. You can’t spend your youth dancing and not be.

Roman had no time to think about it as he gasps, nearly jumping out of “Virgil’s” arm. “Virgil” stops moving to prevent Roman from falling out of his arms. 

“Stop! Stop here!” Roman demands.

Bowceit raises an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Look at those flowers!” Roman untangles himself from “Virgil’s” arms and motions to the flower field in front of him, “I have never seen such amazing and huge flowers!”

Bowceit would admit that the flowers in question were…okay looking. They were very tall with bright pink flower petals. The petals were very vibrant pink with white accents. Bowceit feels his piranha plants were much nicer.

“We have to see more of it!” Roman shouts as he points to the field. 

“Maybe later, I have something much more fun in mind.”

Bowceit had a plan. He would convince Roman to come back to his castle and marry “Virgil”.

“What could be more fun than this?” Roman asked perplexed. What could be more them than running through a flower field and fall into each other’s arms only to stay there and watch the sunset?

“Well I was thinking we could go to Bowceit’s castle–” Bowceit begins only for Roman to cut him off.

“Pffft, we spend enough time there, too much time in my opinion,” Roman says with a laugh. 

Bowceit did his best to hide his annoyance with that statement. The spell may make him look and sounds like Virgil but unless he acted Virgil, there was a chance Roman could peek through. 

“Yeah but you knocked him out, maybe we could trash the place?”

Roman made a very perplexed face and Bowceit sucked in his breath. After a few moments, Roman bursts into laughter. “We do that too much too. Come onnnn, please?”

“I just…had a funny prank idea we could pull on him!” “Virgil pushed.

“I promise we can do that next time but when are we going to have a quiet moment and who knows how long these flowers again?”Bowceit did not have time for this. Another problem with the spell was that it only lasted until the sun went down. That is what he gets for rushing the creation of the spell but he wanted this done today. So much for being eager.

How would Virgil react to Roman’s begging? He knew virtually nothing about the younger plumber due to not caring to. The only thing he knew was he got upset easily which either led to tears or him getting punched in the face by the purple plumber. 

He did once overhear Roman describing a painting Virgil apparently did for him to Patton when they were both in his dungeon but he doubted it could help him in this situation. Unless…

“Alright, but just long enough for me to get a…drawing in,” “Virgil” replies, almost hesitantly. 

Luckily for him, Roman’s pleading face morphs into a soft accepting smile, “Of course dear. Then we can do whatever you want afterward.”

Bowceit smirks, “Excellent.”~

A magikoopa was flying peacefully when a green shell suddenly came flying at it. The magikoopa had no time to react before it was knocked right off of its broom and falls to the ground. 

The magikoopa screams as it went tumbling to the ground. It hit the ground with a thud and it grips its head in pain. 

Once its vision cleared, it gasps as it sees it is surrounded by a very angry Virgil, Logan, and Patton. All three of their arms are crossed and they are glaring daggers into the magikoopa.

The magikoopa scrambles onto its butt as it looks at the trio, absolutely terrified. Before it can try to escape, Virgil grabs it by the robe and drags it to make it face to face with him. 

It squeaks, “Don’t hurt me! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Virgil growls out, “You were there! You cast a spell on Roman! Now tell me what you did to him!” 

As Virgil is talking, Logan walks around him to be behind the magikoopa. “Just so you know, Patton and I won’t hold him back.”

“In fact, we will help,” Patton says, his voice sounding like a horror movie villain.

The magikoopa began to sweat profusely. “It-it was an illusion spell!” it squeaks out.

“What kind of illusion spell?” Virgil asks, tightening his grip on the Magikoopa’s robe.

“It made Bowceit look like you and you look like Bowceit to Prince Roman! If it hit Prince Patton, it would have done the thing to Logan!”

 “That must be why Roman attacked you when you touched him,” Logan says as he rubs his chin in thought.

“Alright so now tell us how to break the spell!” Virgil shouts. 

“I am not telling you anything!” the magikoopa says, acting as if its voice was not completely shaky.

However, before Virgil could do anything, Patton rips the magikoopa away from him.

Patton glares at the magikoopa with nothing but malice with his eyes. “You are going to tell him so we can save my best friend or you are going to deal with me,”

“Like you can hurt a fly!” The magikoopa barks at Patton.

“I only hurt those who deserve it, and you for one, deserve a lot.” Patton throws the magikoopa to the ground in anger. He pulls out his umbrella and swings it down on the magikoopa.

“WAIT!” the magikoopa screams.

Patton stops just as the umbrella is about to hit him. “Yes?”“I’ll tell you everything! I swear!” the magikoopa pleads, getting on its hands and knees.

“Then start talking,” Patton says with a glare. 

“There is no way to break the spell!” Patton winds up to swing again.

“BUT! THERE’S A BUT!” the magikoopa “The spell will end when the sun goes down! His plan is to marry the prince before then as you!”

“Anything else?” Patton asks

“Bowceit Jr. made me come up with a spell to make himself taller.” the magikoopa replies, looking down at the ground in shame before bursting into tears. 

The three of them look at each other, very uncomfortable. They slowly back away from the crying magikoopa and head off to find Roman.

~

Roman had a great time in the flower field. He was able to collect some seeds of the flower and have a nice walk through the field with “Virgil”.

Though “Virgil” seemed to be awfully quiet, not having anything to say to him.

It strikes Roman as odd. Sure, Virgil was always one to keep to himself. When Roman would boast and brag to his Thomases and Talyns, Virgil would walk silently next to him with a smile on his face as he intently listens to whatever Roman has to say.

However, when they are alone, Virgil becomes the more talkative one. He would go on about his adventure with Logan, his ideas for songs, and anything that was on his mind. 

Roman figures that something must be wrong. With him being uncharacteristically pushy earlier and with him not saying anything, there must be something going on in his mind. 

“Mind if we rest in the tree for a bit? My legs are a bit sore.” Roman asks while pointing at a tall tree.

“Virgil” shrugs and follows him. Bowceit knew it was a bit late in the afternoon but he was sure they still had enough time to complete his plan. He goes to sit next to the tree but stops to watch Roman climb the tree. 

“What are you doing?” “Virgil” asks.

Roman stops his climbing. “What does it look like? I’m sitting in the tree.” Roman replies, almost laughing.  

“But why?”

“Because we always sit in trees together?” Roman replies, looking very confused. 

“Oh? Oh! Of course! Sorry, I completely forgot.” “Virgil” scrambles up the tree after him. Roman continues to climb up confused. 

Roman sits on a high branch that overlooks the island. Bowceit could see that the sun was beginning to go down. He frowns, he is running out of time. He was nowhere near his castle with the wedding chapel. He doubts that there were any wedding chapels on Emile’s Island, there were hardly any buildings at all.

“Alright, what is wrong? Don’t tell me it’s nothing, you wouldn’t be frowning if something wasn’t wrong.” Roman asks, his arms crossed so there was no room for discussion. 

Bowceit was stuck. He began patting his sides nervously, it was a habit he has always had ever since he was younger. 

As he was doing that, he felt a small box in his pocket. The ring! He had completely forgotten that he had it on him with everything going on. 

Bowceit tried to hide his shock at discovering the ring but he clearly did not do it well as Roman cups his face. 

“Stormcloud, tell me, please. You know you can tell me, anything babe.” Roman asks gently. 

Bowceit’s finger’s rest of the ring box. This was his last shot. 

“I have something to ask you,” “Virgil” asks as he slips his hand into his pocket. 

Roman is confused, he knew Virgil put his hands in his pockets when he was nervous but he had no idea what was making Virgil nervous. 

“Will you…?”

“Will I?”“Will you…tell me why you like me?” 

Bowceit didn’t know what possessed him to ask that question. It was always lingering in his mind. Why them and not him? He was a king after all! With minions and a huge castle,  not to mention very adorable children. So why did the princes date the plumbers? They are plumbers, what exactly do they have to offer?

Roman’s frown was deep that Bowceit was so sure that it would cause permanent frown lines. He takes a deep breath and says, “Okay, I am only going to say this once more. So make sure it stays in your brain this time because you know I hate repeating myself.” Roman emphasis his point by poking “Virgil” forehead. 

“Alright, alright, I get it.” “Virgil” replies, waving Roman off, “Just tell me.”

Roman makes a show of clearing his throat, tapping his chest, and do some vocal exercises. “Alright. First off, I demand as your prince and loving boyfriend that you never doubt our relationship again. I know you get anxious about a lot of things but we should not be one of them, my stormcloud. I adore you. I love how cautious you are but are still willing to jump over literal lava when I am kidnapped. You are strong and a hero. But that is not all I like. I like it when you sing when we sit together under a tree and read a book. I like doing nothing and everything with you because it is you. You are an amazing artist and musician. You are an amazing brother and boyfriend.”

Bowceit is shocked, to say the least. He has never heard Roman talk this soft or sweetly. The ring felt heavy in his hand.

“And secondly, I don’t just like you, I love you.” Roman says as he puts his hand on “Virgil”’s hand that is resting on the tree branch. 

Bowceit looks down at their hands before looking up at Roman’s face. He is smiling, the most loving smile Roman had ever given him. Roman’s now blue eyes seemed to shimmer with joy and love.  

This is all he ever wanted from the prince. And yet…

It felt wrong. This was wrong. 

He squeezed the ring box. He had to make a choice. 

~

As this was happening; Logan, Patton, and Virgil seemed to be running around like chickens that have lost their heads. They first headed straight for Bowceit’s castle after talking with the magikoopa. They were shocked when they did not find Roman but rather the danger noodles making a gigantic pillow fort in their father’s throne room.

They headed from world to world afterward but they could not seem to find Roman anywhere. They made it back to the Mushroom Kingdom before deciding to take a breather. 

Once they arrive, Virgil walks up to the closet tree and punches it. He immediately regrets this action as his anger quickly turns into pain. He sticks his wounded fist into his mouth to silence any curse words that threaten to escape. 

Patton pulls him into a hug, gently rubbing his back. He rocks Virgil back and forth in an attempt to soothe him. Virgil tears up, though he is not sure if it is because of the pain or the sadness he has been trying to suppress all day. 

Once the pain dulls, Virgil pulls away from Patton, and Patton lets him go. Virgil tends to pace when he needs to calm his mind down. 

Virgil paces in front of Patton’s castle, almost biting his nails but stopping when he remembers he has gloves on. “AGH! Where could they possibly be?!” Virgil shouts in anger.

“We will find them, Virgil,” Logan replies.

“No, no. No, we won’t!”“Virgil–”

“No, no Logan, don’t you dare! Don’t tell me we will! Because we have looked everywhere! We went to every Zone, fuck, we’ve been to his castle! And even if we do find them, they probably are already married. That’s probably why we can’t find them because they’re on their goddamn honeymoon! It’s over! He’s gone!”

Virgil pauses, the weight of his words hit him, “He’s gone…I lost him.” He nearly fell backward from it. He begins to hug himself, trying to catch his breath. 

Logan is completely lost. He wants to reassure his brother but he doesn’t know what he could possibly say to help him. He had no logical positive explanation. The logical explanation is that Virgil is right. He did not know what to do. 

Luckily, Patton does. 

“So you’re just going to give up?” Patton says, making the two brothers turn to him. His pink sleeved arms arm crossed and he is glaring at the pair. 

“You guys are only heroes when it’s easy for you? Now that you’re in a hard spot you’re just going to stop?” Patton says angrily 

“Well, dear, there is not–” Logan starts but Patton silences him with a hand raise. 

“Don’t ‘dear’ me! And don’t you dare say there is nothing you can do! What would Roman say? What would Roman DO? Do you think he just sits around and waits for you guys to save him?’“No…” Virgil replies “He never gives up. H-He would keep trying…”

“That’s right! So you need to do that too!” 

Virgil is silent for a few seconds before standing up straight, “You’re right…”

“What was that?” Patton says, his face morphing into a smile. 

“You’re right!” Virgil shouts, determination coming back to him, “I am not going to give up! Because I am not a quitter!”

“That’s right! So what are you going to do?!”

“I’M GOING TO BREAK BOWCEIT’S FACE!”Patton blinks at him, “…What else are you going to do?”

“Oh uh save Roman. THEN BREAK HIS FACE!”

“Okay, kiddo.”

“I WILL SEARCH EACH ENDS OF THE EARTH AS MANY TIMES AS POSSIBLE TO BREAK THAT UGLY SNAKE’S FACE!”

“Maybe you won’t have to,” Logan chimes in. 

Both Virgil and Patton turn to him and say, “Huh?” 

“Think about it, where was the first place we checked when we knew Bowceit had Roman?”

“Bowceit’s castle, but he wasn’t there,” Virgil replies, still confused. 

“And when we saw that they were not there, where did we go?”

“To every other place, we know Bowceit has a tower.”

“So that means we didn’t check…?”

“…THE ISLAND! THAT SON OF A BITCH NEVER LEFT THE ISLAND! WE GOT TO GO!” Virgil screams before taking off in a run. 

“Virgil! Kiddo! We have to take the plane!” Patton shouts after him. 

“Oh right.”

~

“Cover your eyes and follow me.” “Virgil” instructs Roman as they climbed out of the tree. Roman raises his eyebrow skeptically but covers his eyes with one hand, using his other hand to take “Virgil’s” hand. 

They walk for a while before Roman hears what sounds like running water. “May I open my eyes now?”

“Not yet, not yet, Count down from..from 300.”

“300?!”

“Virgil” sighs, “Please? For me.”

Roman rolls his eyes behind his hand, “Okay, okay. But this surprise better be worth it. One, two, three…”

Bowceit steps back from Roman with a frown. He shakes his head and runs away as quietly as possible.

He could not believe that he was actually doing this. He should be jumping at this opportunity and fast, the sun was starting to go down. He looks over his shoulder at Roman still counting. He sighs and continues to walk away.  

Damn his stupid conscience.  

~

Once the plane touches the ground on the island, Virgil runs out of it. He is prepared to rip this island to sherds to find his beloved. Luckily he only has to run for a bit before he finds Bowceit. 

He jumps up and goes to punch Bowceit but Bowceit dodges. Virgil lands and gets into a fighting set “You…”

“I’m not here to fight,” Bowceit says putting his hands up in defense. 

Virgil rolls his eyes, “Wow, that’s a first, but I do not care. Where’s Roman?”

“He’s down that path,” points, “He’s fine, just counting.”

“What? Why is he counting?” Virgil asks, prepared to hear something about a bomb. 

“He’s counting down until the spell breaks. Go and get him.” Bowceit says. 

“How do I know you’re not lying?” 

“Because I’m heading to my airship by myself. But don’t believe me, it doesn’t make a difference to me.”

Virgil stares at him, and he can’t find any indication that Bowceit is lying. “…Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t want to win this way.”

Virgil looks at him in utter shock. 

“Oh pick up your jaw from the ground plumber. Don’t read into this. I will marry one of those princes, just not like this.”

Virgil couldn’t hold back his smirk, “Not if my brother and I have anything to say about it.”

Bowceit smirks as well, “We will see.” He salutes Virgil before stuffing his hands into his pockets and walking off. 

Virgil’s smirk morphs into a relieved smile. He takes off to Roman, he’ll break Bowceit’s fave another day. 

~“Three…two…one…” Roman removes his hand “Oh my gosh…”

The lake he had been brought to was surrounded by Evening Primroses and Moonflowers. The sky was filled with bright beautiful stars. Roman smiles at the scene before turning around. Standing behind him is Virgil, staring at him with his bright brown eyes. 

Roman runs over to him and takes his hands. “This place is beautiful. Did you find it on one of your adventures? Wait, don’t tell me. I want to listen to the wonderful sounds of this place.” Roman looks around with a smile before his eyes land back on Roman.

His brown eyes. His soft, warm, and oh so loving brown eyes. 

“Stormcloud, why are you crying?” Roman asks as he cups Virgil’s hand and wipes the tears away with his thumb.

Virgil lets out a watery laugh, “Nothing baby, I just love you so much.”

Roman kisses his nose “And I love you too. And I will always love you.”

Virgil grins, “I know.”

~

Taglist:

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[bearmyshielf]

(Based on the phanthop au created by the lovely @roseltheteacup and @alittlewriter ! Hope you dont mind me doing this, but your au made me sad so I had to write something. Now it’s 1 AM, so off to sleep I go!)

—-

Phantump, the stump Pokemon. According to old tales, these Pokémon are stumps possessed by the spirits of children who died while lost in the forest.

—-

He likes his new trainer.

Lee is kind, and gentle, and he smiles like everything will be alright, now that he’s here. Lee doesn’t mind holding his hand, or peeling the crusts off his sandwiches, buys him chocolate ice cream and cookies and when the skies are clear, brings him to see the stars.

(Back in the forest, it had been dark, so dark. What sunlight he had seen was the little streams of gold that would peek through the leaves on good days, and darkness so complete it frightened him every other day. He had wandered, not knowing what he was missing, what he needed to find, just that he needed to find something. He had memorized every blade of tall grass. He had climbed every tree. He learned how to hide, how to keep quiet, how to make himself small. He learned what was safe to eat and wasn’t, how to see in the dark. He learned how to survive in a forest that seemed intent on swallowing him alive, and he had to do it alone.)

With Lee, he’s never alone. His trainer is always always there, a presence larger than life and just a smile bright as the sun. Lee takes him everywhere, and tells jokes, and makes curry just the way he likes it whenever he wants, wherever they are.

(Colorful mushrooms lighting up hidden paths and rocky mountains with gravel underfoot and the smell of salt by the ocean and rolling meadows filled with Woolos and clouds drifting by a giant window fat and lazy and gem encrusted walls and warm water and and and-

And Lee. He’s there. He’s always always there.)

—-

The first time he sees Lee battle, it’s at the very top of a tower that reaches the clouds.

He doesn’t recognize the other trainer, but they look scary, with the determined looking scowl tugging on their lips and the sharp look in their eyes. A part of him wants to curl up and hide, find a crevice and make himself small, the way he did back in the forest when the bigger Pokemon went by. He doesn’t though. Lee is right there, and he wants to be brave.

The fight is short. The fight is brutal. He watches, agape, as Charizard grows large, larger than any tree he’d ever seen, any pokemon he’d ever meet. He watches as the battle ends in a flash of orange fire, the ends of his leaves warming up as it rushes by.

The battle ends. His awe does not end with it.

Later, they make camp next to Lake Outrage, and Lee has gone to gather some berries. It’s just him and the rest of the team. He gives the others a friendly wave before he floats over to where Lee has left his things, hunting for the red and white balls that he’s always seen trainers with. It isn’t hard to find one, buried under strange pictures and a folded cape. He lifts it and chortles with glee, the sound echoing a hundred times over as he tosses it up and catches it again.

(He remembers the way Lee had done it, powerful arcs and deliberate movements. He remembers how he had felt- like his breath had been stolen- like there’s a sharp ache somewhere inside him, a dull throbbing that won’t go away, heat and ice making his vision blur. It hurt, but in a good way, and he wants that. He’s sure he does.)

It’s hard to imitate his trainer, but he tries, heaves the ball up to his chest and starts to turn around. He gets dizzy soon enough, and does that mean it’s time to let go? He does, and stumbles in midair as the ball leaves his hands to curve upwards gracefully and land on the grass some distance away.

Next to it, Lee, who drops the berries and plates he’s been holding, who’s hands rise up to cover his eyes as the dishes shatter, a thousand little shards sent in all directions. He watches, paralyzed, as his trainer’s shoulders tremble, like they’re caught in their own internal earthquake.

He rushes over, dives into Lee’s chest and clings to his shirt. Lee doesn’t hesistate- his hands come down to cradle him against their chest, shaking, shaking, shaking. He feels something drip on his branches and makes a low crooning noise, a rumbling purr he’d seen Meowths do to comfort their trainers, until Lee’s hands aren’t trembling so much and his shoulders art still.

Lee exhales. It’s a shaky, hollow sound, like someone has torn out his soul, and he never wants them to sound like that again, never, never again. He swears that, even as the rest of the team comes close and Charizard’s wings spread to curl around them.

(Later on he tries to pick up the shards left on the grass, but Lee stops him with red rimmed eyes. “It’s fine.” They murmur as he watches sadly. “You’ll cut yourself; let me do it.)

—-

“Phan?” He asks, confused. Lee smiles at him, pats the air next to him. They’re in the town with budews sleeping in the gardens and a large house nearby, looming.

(He doesn’t like that house. The last time Lee had brought him there, he had felt small: he had felt afraid, and alone, like he was back in the woods and all he could see were shadows. He had run away, and Lee had tore open the countryside looking for him, until his voice cracked and his shouts became whispers. He came back eventually, and Lee had hugged him so fiercely as they begged him to never leave like that again. It took five days before Lee could speak without coughing up blood. Five days of worry and guilt, and the knowledge that his trainer cared enough to look for him, to push himself that far. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like no one’s ever done that for him before.)

“I have someone for you to meet.” Lee smiles. There’s no stumble to their voice. He floats over, confused, as they continue. “Look, here they come now.”

He looks at the direction Lee is pointing and sees a Dubwool, being led by a woman with a shock of orange hair and followed by a Yamper. He looks at Lee, even more confused, but then the Dubwool tackles him.

There’s a commotion and flurry of movement around him, but his vision is filled with white wool and bright eyes, gleaming. The Dubwool nuzzles him, mindful of their horns. It’s you. They say, their voice trailing off to a celebratory bleat. It’s you! You’re back! You finally came back!

He wants to ask who they’re talking about. He wants to ask if they’ve met. Instead, he says nothing at all, as he buries his face in their coarse wool and wonders why this all feels so familiar.

—-

He’s been with Lee for three months when another new face appears.

The trainer looks young, and he doesn’t know them but- he feels like he should, for some reason. They look at him with wide wet eyes and it feels familiar, the way the Pokemon Lee had introduced him to had all felt familiar, like the woman with orange hair had felt familiar. Like it was something he’s forgotten, something he’d witnessed once in a dream.

“...Hey.” They whisper cautiously, picking at the edge of their sleeves with their nails. They’re still watching him with those wide wide eyes, huge and terrified. “Is it really you? Hop?”

That’s his name. He knows that at least, had been there when Lee called him that for the first time. He gives a shrill giggle, and they smile. He thinks that it’s a good expression on them.

“I thought I would never see you again.” The trainer’s lips wobble, and they use their hand to rub at the corners of their eyes. “We didn’t even get to say goodbye, yknow? I didn’t even notice you were gone, not until Leon did.”

He doesn’t understand what they’re trying to say. But he notices the way they’ve begun to curl inwards, eyes on the ground as they struggled to breathe. He knows what that means.

(He doesn’t know this trainer, with their sad smiles and shaking voice, but he knows already that he cant stand to see them cry.)

He floats forward as their eyes begin to droop, the weight of their tears pulling the edges down.

“And I stole your dream even though I didn’t really want to be champion, and I never said anything to you, and I didn’t look for you, I didn’t try and find you-“ they suck in a noisy breath, ribs rattling. “I was so happy to be number one I forgot about you, even though you were always there when I needed you, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“

He noses his way into their arms, as their frame is wracked with heavy sobs that seem to take everything out of them. “I’m sorry-“ They croak, voice cracking, and repeat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry- Hop, I’m sorry.“

He doesn’t know what they’re apologizing for, but he decides he’s forgiven them for it. He buries his face into the crook of their neck and listens to the apologies whistling out from between their teeth.

—-

He’s watching his trainer battle his rival and he feels something like pride, something a little more bittersweet- he watches them trade blows and something in him rings hollow, like a strike against an empty glass of water.

“I’ve never met a Phantump before.” The little girl next to him says. He cocks his head. “There’s never been any near Hammerlocke. And anyway, you’re the only one that has purple leaves.”

Was he? He bats at the purple foliage peeking out of his stump, wondering. Maybe that made him special. The girl watches him through the corner of her eyes.

“Though, we’ve met before, haven’t we? I asked your friend to deliver a letter for me. You were there too. You helped.” She smiles and smiles and keeps smiling, but she’s gone perfectly still.

He blinks in confusion.

“I never thanked you for that.”

She reaches out and pats him on the side of his head, and still confused, he lets her. “It’s not too late for you. You have got to remember.”

“Hey!” Lee calls from below. He turns to look at him: he’s flushed and grinning from victory, as his rival sighs over their rotom phone. “Come on, let’s go!”

He begins to follow his trainer, but not before sparing one more look behind him.

The little girl is not there.

—-

There’s a trainer waving a feathered stick around.

He floats over to investigate, the chiming of the bell alluring despite himself. The trainer chuckles as he bats at the toy, arms moving to and fro to attack it.

“I heard who you are.” The Trainer mutters as the toy begins to slow. Their eyes stay locked on him. “I heard it from the Champion. You’re Hop, aren’t you?”

That’s his name, so he nods. The trainer huffs out a brittle laugh, looking away and running a hand through his mess of unruly curls.

“...It was my fault.”

They don’t wait for him to understand. They barrel on, the words leaving them in a rush.

“You- you were ten. I was ten. Shit, we were stupid little kids, and I... I said that to you, and you disappeared, and I’m so fucking sorry for that. It was my fault.” They sigh. “What I did was unforgivable.”

He watches as they fiddle with the collar of their pink shirt, unable to meet his eyes. For some reason, he feels a stab of deja vu.

“Just... I’m glad you’re happy now, at least.”

—-

In the end, all it takes is a realization.

He’s sitting in Lee’s help and the thought strikes him how many friends he has now; how many memories shared. He’s sitting on Lee’s lap and all he feels is safe: all he feels is content.

(He thinks of the familiar Pokemon and the trainer with huge eyes and everyone else he had met, and he thinks of lonely days in a wood filled with fog and thinks that he is happy with what he has now.)

“I love you.” He hears Lee whisper as they poke at the fire, and he- he wants to respond.

(He’s warm and safe and happy, surrounded by companions, watching the stars twinkle overhead, and he’s never felt farther than his origins before: like the years he had spent in those woods never happened, like he never had to learn how to be small and safe. The darkness seems so far away, with the campfire spitting embers into the distance. He’s here, and he’s happy, and it feels like a dream come true.)

“Love you too Lee.” He whispers, actually whispers, with a voice that isn’t a chorus of screams, and-

-something in his soul slides right into place, and clicks.

(He isn’t lost anymore.)

[talesofealdancynedom]

Corona Wintersleep, in fairy robes; Is she hiding to avoid her family, or just people annoying? You may not get an answer, because this is the comic relief episode.

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 5 -  Do Not Wait 5/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

menton of death and/or casual drug use

After the Battle in Celticia, Meriam had some nice peaceful years with her family. Feon and Edmond gave her a lot to think about, including the value of her daughter, husband and nephew. She felt lucky to be queen, and use magic peacefully, and watch over the magic forest city she had made with the Raven Gate. The harvests where good, and Francia retreated from the east boarder for the winter. Anglia enjoyed finally being safe at every other boarder. Yet, Meriam lusted for more; she wanted another adventure, and more allies. She suspected Francia may be bribing the Eastern and Southern nations, to aid in conquest; or reap their land. It was almost too quiet this season. Then one day, at a court meeting, the scribe translator read a letter from the Far South: Hispania. Hispania was so far away from the rest of Ealden Cynedom, that people knew nothing about it. All except Meriam, who read about a specific type of mage in one of Feon’s journals, and that the main magic forest in Hispania, belonged to the Fairy Gate. The thought of undiscovered magical scenery, gave her wanderlust once more.

           The Letter said that Hispania had fallen into civil unrest, as families instead of governments, tried to acquire mages to rise to power. Currently there was no consolidated government, causing the balance around the Fairy Gate to fall into corrupt hands. The Far South of Hispania had no care for the politics of other lands, and instead wanted advice; They had heard marvelous stories about the mage queen of the Grand West. And one family decided to contact her.

But Meriam’s king husband, and the other court members, had no interest in the Far South. It was a month’s journey away, and provided no trade or threat. But these things are meaningless to a mage. Outside her window, the Raven Gate was visible in the square. Meriam could travel alone through the shadow veil, to the Fairy Gate, all by herself. Time and distance were malleable in the veil, and mages could use gates, like fey, to travel between magic forests. But Meriam needed to know if the Fairy Gate was open, because if it was, that meant there was a mage. The men around Meriam rolled their eyes, as she rose her hand to hear the rest of the message.

“Our mage is a fair lady, unlike her kin. There are white marks about her wrists, and a heart with a sword marked on her chest. She is a mage that can heal with compassion; If only she could love. Her name is Corona Wintersleapen. She was bred and possessed by her family for power, and then ran away to the peak of the city. Inside the mouth of the halved mountain, is a lush jungle of wonder around the iced Fairy Gate. Corona’s darkened heart needs to be healed, so the city can prosper. She must belong to no one, and stop harming anyone who attempts to reach her. The city needs to access, coexist, and expand into the enchanted jungle. We believe your queen’s power, and achievements, make her the best person for the job.” The Messenger said. The translator gave a brief summery.  Then there was a bump under the table. Meriam and the king looked under, and Eatheltwein, their nephew, was eavesdropping on the courts with his canary.

“Eatheltwein Cynedom, we talked about this. You should be studying literature, not joining our table. I know you wish to be included as you enter manhood, but this is not your time. Off with you.” The King demanded. Eatheltwein slinked off like a scared dog. Leaving the court embarrassed and the messenger, scribe, and translator very confused.

“I will quickly use the gates to settle this matter. I want to be on good terms with every kingdom. I cannot bring my men, as the pure magic of the shadow veil petrifies commoners in it’s deprivation of the senses. Not to mind the presence of the beast kings. I will go alone in my fairy robes, wielding the unbreakable sword and bow. Care for our daughter and Eathel well.” Meriam said. She stood up and left before anyone could stop her. It had been a long time since she had an adventure; it made her giddy. Meriam almost had a skip to her step as she went to her study; And then she noticed someone was following her…

           Meriam walked into the shadow veil, through the black marble Raven Gate in the square. She entered the serene setting of black, white and grey. As she walked though a rough forest trail, no birds sang, or wind blew. The light almost refracting as it spilled through the canopy. Meriam did not look behind her, nor her familiar Nithen; yet she still sensed she had a follower. The shadow veil was not deterring them... Then Meriam crossed into the plains full of unicorn, and carnivorous mares. Then hiked through the rough terrain of the wolf kingdom, with cats of luck and moonlight, that hid in the brush. Only magic had colour here; fey, fairy robes, magic tools, and the eyes of those who wield it. Nearly at her destination, Meriam crossed a bridge of ice into the Fairy Kingdom, where the frosted trees echoed with the laughter of children, and everything glittered like diamonds and snow. Yet, her pursuer still walked behind her. Is it even a person? Why didn’t the shadow veil deter them?   She thought. As Meriam stood at the foot of a stone circle, engraved with the table of fours, she decided to look behind her. Meriam was taken aback: Eatheltwein stood gleaming with joy, admiring all the fairies, and the soothing atmosphere. This meant two things: firstly, Eathel was now her responsibility, and was in a world of trouble. Secondly, in order to be content in the ether of all magic, he must be a mage. Noticing the confused glare of his aunt, Eatheltwein nervously waved hello.

“Sorry Aunt Merry, the quest just sounded like a lot of fun. I’m tired of talking to trees in the court yard, and reading books about dead men. I Love you, and want to go on an adventure! Also, what is this place? It’s a bit odd isn’t it.” He smiled, looking around innocently.

           Realizing Eatheltwein was a mage, and that his canary was his familiar, Meriam decided to take the opportunity to teach him more magic. Something so powerful must be utilized wisely and safely. Eathel had developed a habit of sneaking into her magic study, and reading her mage journals, this whole time. His little familiar’s name was Viola, and she was quieter than Meriam’s kestrel familiar Nihten. Though a golden canary suited Eatheltwein well; he never shut up, and was very innocent, and showy. When the surprise faded, they all began to take the adventure as an opportunity to bond. With joy, they stepped through the Fairy Gate, and into the Mediterranean heat of Hispania. Eatheltwein coughed; he had come from right from a pleasant and crisp winter in Anglia.

The fairy gate was atop a large, forested, fey infested mountain. It was overlooking a city of white sandstone, painted vibrant colours. The tall houses had tall walls with small iron gates, and where like vibrantly painted stacked children’s blocks. The view in every clearing was spectacular. You could hear music, shouting, and singing echo up the mountain. It sounded like an undying fiesta. In Feon’s book, she said this place was called Torres de Calendulas; Meriam had no clue what that meant, she only knew there was a Meader mage wielding healing love magic here somewhere. If the message she received was accurate.

           Eathel’s company was pleasant. He helped search. There were no trails, just twisted trees with odd leaves, ripe fruit, and large colourful flowers. What odd tree children, they both thought; And so many pretty, shinny, colourful Phoenix’s, minor Roc’s, and cockatrices. There were also many nymphs in the trees, creeks, freshwater springs, and patches of sunlight they passed; yet no people. The magic forest was thick, and toughly filled with fey. The Fairy Gate itself was a wonder made of solid aquamarine, that looked like ice; Yet, it was nothing compared to its forest. As they searched, Meriam and Eatheltwein suddenly walked into a short Indigo cornfield. It gave way to a yard of colourful patches of perfectly square vegetable beds, making a garden in front of a perfectly square spackled house, with a blue roof. On the porch sat a man of tanned skin, and deep eye’s and hair. His hair was curled, and waved into a short low ponytail, and weaved with marigolds of various colours. He wore a loose cotton shirt with a deep neckline, and poofed sleeves, that were embroidered with pinstripes and wild patterns of vibrant colours which matched his tight pants. He was tuning a lute, and humming with the cicadas. Meriam had the most confused look on her face. Between the hallucinogenic fey, perfect garden, and this man’s outfit, she wondered if she had eaten something unusual before she left.

“Eatheltwein, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Meriam asked, in a mildly disturbed way.

“Oh my, It’s not just me! Thank the fjords! I thought I had eaten those mushrooms again…” Eatheltwein sighed. Meriam turned to look at him with a jerk; she made a gesture that suggested she had too many questions to actually ask them.

           Eatheltwein and Meriam were experiencing the special type of embarrassment that comes from walking into a stranger’s house, being offered a myriad of things, and not being sure what the socially acceptable thing to do is. The man talked in a monotone voice, with a slight cheer, and his face expressed no emotion, whilst still encapsulating a polite faux sense of enthusiasm. Like he might be in pain. He switched between old Anglian and old Hispanian, making him nearly incomprehensible. Meriam and Eathel were now eating what was probably chillies filled with cheese, and topped with a fried egg, inside a corn tortilla. The man starred at them with the same expression, while strumming is lute giddily. The unfamiliar notes not forming a coherent melody. They all made uncomfortable distressing prolonged eye-contact. Then the man started smiling. Meriam looked like she was in fear as the strings of melted cheese hung from her mouth and the iron skillet she shared with her nephew. Wait, it’s not iron… its copper?

“How is it dear visitors? I made it with my lady’s fine recipe; with golden goose eggs!” He said with a thick accent, and astrum of him lute. “She is a talented potion maker, and Heartmann mage.” He continued. The last part was in old Hispanian. Meriam started to cry. She had no idea what was going on. She had seen war, but this broke her.

“Aunty Merry, are you ok? I have concluded we actually may have shared some suspicious forest gatherings at the palace. But what luck! I love spending time with you. And to be in one of your adventures; This is fantastic! And this food, whatever it is, is disgusting in a way that makes me keep eating it.” Eatheltwein cheered. Meriam’s crying, now also contained a sort of gagging and laughter. Her mouth was still full of cheese. This was not her finest moment. Worse yet, this cabin bard, who was attending her fever dream, spoke in an incomprehensible fast language, and Meriam could not ask where the Meader mage, Corona, was. Then she recognized the word ‘Heortemann.’ She swallowed, and took some deep breathes, when she realized the walls were covered in paintings, potions, baking trays, and cookware. It was a gingerbread cottage, spackled like confetti cake. Eathel was now examining the large oven at the end of the cottage, and the stairs down to a cellar; Where Meriam began to hear laughter.

           Peering into the dim cellar, like two children looking into a well, Meriam and Ealtheltwein saw two large beautiful fairies, and a woman with platinum hair, amber eyes, white fairy kingdom fair robes, and a marking in black, of a sword in a heart upon her chest. The three cellar occupants looked unblinkingly at Eathel and Meriam.

“You brought mages my love! More friends for our party in our safe little garden!” the female fairy spoke. She matched the second fairy like a twin; though the other fairy was a boy. Their complexions were like ice, and their hair was silver, and eyes that were pale and lustered like aura quartz. Their wings were lilac and periwinkle, and shimmered like their eyes. They wore fairy robes, and had crowns of ice. They looked just like the Fairy King and Queen. Meriam was delighted; Royal Fairies. Fairies make sense! She almost started to tear again.

“Hello, you must be Corona Wintersleapen. Your people need you to stop attacking them, when they go near the magic forest. They fear your introverted nature is caused by your families neglect. But I think your just a mage, and people are mean.” Meriam said. “Also, your two royal friends are radiant, by the way.”

“Nada. I do not attack the people. They just get lost in the forest; the fey lead them back out again. It’s their fault for trying to cut down the tree children, instead of asking politely to be neighbors. If they were nicer, and stopped having children in hopes of bearing mages, their city could become entangled with this forest no problem. And I live happy in my little cottage, with all my true loves. I want nothing to do with tower folk.” Corona spoke. She sounded like a snooty child.

“Miss, this situation is so upsetting to common folk; they cower in fear-” Meriam said. Then she stopped. “Wait, you just don’t want to talk to commoners? It has nothing to do with your family or how close or far away they are?”

“Se” Corona chirped. “I even send them medicine, when the sickness passes time to time.”

“Wait, true love? With all four of you? That is a lot of love… Aunt Merry says you’re a mage that can heal with love; you must make everyone feel better with four times the hugs!” Eatheltwein smiled. “I love romantic stories! Is that why everything is copper and you have so many baking and brewing supplies? To heal people and befriend fairies?” Eathel gleamed. Meriam rolled her eyes.

“We are Earden Faries; royal fey! We came to look for our father, but my sister fell in love with this fine bard! And then I fell in love with this adorable lady! So, we stayed here, instead of returning home with no news of our father. Her shortbreads are wonderful!” the fairy prince said sweetly. Meriam went into seer mode; she covered Eatheltwein’s mouth, to start an interrogation:

“Why were you looking for your father: The Fairy Queen?” She asked.

“Oh, my love can sing that for you! It’s very sad. We taught him to sing it in every tongue.” The fairy princess said.

“I love songs and music! Why I would love a ballad form that fine lads lute!” Eathletwein said.

“No.” Meriam grimaced. “Just tell me. I want to record everything in grotesque detail.” she demanded. The man took his seat, and the fairies hugged his knees, and Corona curled up to keep brewing in the wine cellar. Then the unsettling bard took a deep breath, and started with one strum; and Meriam’s palm, met her face.

Upon the tallest mountain, in the southmost lands; A selfish king did ask a mage for a simple thing.

He held a knife to the mage’s kin, and then began to yell.

Summon me the Raven King; whose song will kill us all.

The armies of the bitter folk, come before my fort. Now have the biggest raven come, and make the men no more.

When the Raven King did come, from his shadowy throne; the Fairy Queen did run away, to stop the bird lord’s song.

Alas too late, the mage summoned him, and the Raven began to plea: “release my mage, my dearest friend and I may sing for thee.”

Forgotten was the darkness, of the king’s new oath; For when the Raven King began to chime, the king and mage began to fall.

The Fairy Queen, though light of foot, could not warn the peoples to flee;

And down came the fort and mountain, and all the fey and trees.

No one lived to tell the tale, of how a mountain halved; to quote the lives of all that died, or witness the beast king’s spell.

The Fairy King did cry, for the loss of her dead love. The Raven King forgiven, but the damage already done.

The lord of birds he cracked his voice, for death he saw as sin; and tells each mage of whom he sees, of what crimes he did commit.

Now that many years have past, and the Gate and Forest remade. The people here will never learn, but at last we’re safe.

           It doesn’t matter how talented a bard is, if the courts don’t care to listen. Meriam got up, broke his lute in a rage, and glared the man with malice.

“No. I am a Queen, a time controlling mage, a wife, and a Mother; I have seen battle, magic, murder, pain, and filth beyond imagination; AND I DON’T WANT TO BE SERENADED BY A HISPANION STALLION COLLECTING FARIES IN A FANTASY MUSHROOM SAMBA.” Meriam cursed. Her dark powerful voice even scared Eatheltwein, who cowered in the oven. The information was fun lore, and it explained the art on the walls. But it would not satisfy Hispania in terms of having good will towards this magic forest; or Anglia. Meriam pulled Eathel out of the oven, and Corona out of the cellar. She brought them to the table to sit, while the royal fairies swooned, and transmuted a new loot for their love, from a broken ladle.

           The most Meriam could do now, was inform Corona that common folk can’t talk to trees, so she would have to be a witch and negotiate the land partitioning between commoners and tree children. Corona hated the idea; that would require leaving the forest and talking to people.

“If you don’t want to talk to people, send your insufferable bard. He’s a special kind of peasant. Small people might find him charming.” Meriam scoffed.

“It’s only until the people who hate fey leave, and the rest accept living aside fairies and phoenixes. My aunt here, made the Raven Gate in the main square of the Capital of Anglia; a magic forest in the biggest city of the Grand West! And all the common people live well from what I’ve seen.” Eathel said with a smile. His sunny aura had begun to comfort and attract Corona. The idea involved her staying away from humans, having fey be safe, and still being able to be a magic healer, and baker, in the woods. The witch in a little cottage of a magic forest. Corona agreed, and offered Eatheltwein a spot in her bed with the bard and fairies. Then gestured at Meriam as well. She considered it, until her eyes met the bard’s; dead eyes. She didn’t trust him.

Meriam took Eathel aside, and warned him to stay away from sketchy offers like that, and they should get home before his uncle realizes he wasn’t becoming literate. Eathel was disappointed; he always wanted to make a pillow fort. Noticing Meriam was becoming short, Eatheltwein said they could tell him he was learning other kingly skills. Meriam argued creepy house, in creepy forest, with a creepy woman, who was asking if they wanted to be the fifth and sixth flower in her vase. Eathel gave up, as he didn’t understand; he was not full grown either. The two of them politely declined Corona’s offer. When she persisted, Eathel gave her his shirt as a distraction, and dashed into the tight twisted vibrant forest. Meriam followed behind, and they started looking for the Fairy Gate to get home.

           Meriam and Eatheltwein started to get trapped in the dense forest. The tree children were stubborn, and they had gone the wrong way. They were lost.

“Can we use our familiars to scout?” Eatheltwein asked.

“Too tight, we might lose them. We need a Mothkin.”

“Those giant fairy moths? that turn into human sized fairies that guide people?”

“I’m not going to ask how you know that, but yes. I don’t know the names of any in this forest, to call for one. By the way, saying a fey’s name, if it has given it too you out of fondness, is how to charm a fey to you. It’s rude to say, or share, a fey’s name; it’s a gift from their parents. Also, never summon them like edge lord Edmond.”

“The Wolf prince?”

“Yes. By the way, if he ever comes to you for peace, say yes, and don’t mention that I said that.”

“This place really got to you aunt Merry…” Eathel mused. He was ensnared in greater bean stalk, which was talking to him in tree euphemisms. Something about him being a treasure of the Grand West. Then, as he was being lifted by the tendrils, shortbread fell out of his pocket. Eatheltwein had taken it in the cabin, as the fairy recommended. Meriam picked them up; they were rum flavoured. She shrugged and put them on a nice plate from the palace, she summoned with chalk. Eathel was now having neon flowers and fruit nuzzled against him by the tree children. Now he was bothered. He was in need of a water closet.

It was a waiting game. They hoped some mothkin, whisp, or nymph, would come and help them for a cookie. Fairy logic is both the best and worst. Eventually the tree children parted way, slowly dropping Eatheltwein, and a night blue mothkin walked forward. She was deep blue and royal navy; wearing a sparkling velvet robe, long glassy hair, and soft eyed wings and antenna.

“The cookie is nice, but I could feel your desperation from across the creek. Sorry I took so long, you guys kept moving away.” She said calmly. “Oh! I remember you! Meriam Craweleoth?”

“Hello, my name is Eatheltwein Cynedom; what is your name?” Eathel said, hoping to get his first fey name. Meriam handed the cookies to the Mothkin, with a smile.

“Celscael. Most mages call me Chelsea. It’s nice to meet you Eatheltwein” Chelsea said, taking a bite and gesturing them to follow. The world will literally bend before a mothkin, between the start and finish of a journey. Meriam and Eatheltwein could see the warp of the trees and path as they followed; they didn’t even say where they were going, and Chelsea still led them to the Fairy Gate.

“Good tidings! Thank you for helping Corona; I can’t wait to make more friends when those lively dancing men move into the forest! This has got to be one of the better places mother has put me.” Chelsea said tenderly. Meriam smiled and waved goodbye, as did Eatheltwein to copy. They ran back to the gate and Shadow Veil without looking behind them, and walked into the square panting.

“Don’t take me on your next quest; I will be in the study becoming a good nobleman. Please Aunt Merry. PLEASE.” Eatheltwein said. He noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and hugged himself in embarrassment. He turned to Meriam; she was ecstatic.

“I am going to spend the next two days writing that all down! That was so Exciting! Odette will love to hear about this!” Meriam giddily chimed. Meriam was never this cheerful. Eathel looked at her blankly, and then he silently walked back to the palace alone.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

[smarmaladey]

The Bad Touch - (2/3)

Chapter 2 - “nothin’ but mammals”

Rating: 🇪

Fandom: Jojo’s Bizzare Adventure

Relationships:  🐞♡🚺

Words: 4260

Ao3 Link Prev.

(For content warnings and additional notes, click read more)

Things get worse for our “lovely” heroine. 

cw: rape/non-con elements, AU (probably), ooc (probably), break-ins(?)

Enjoy!!

♡🐞♡

Monday.

7:00 AM.

The second incident.

♡🐞♡

If there was one word you'd never use to describe yourself, it'd be "independent".

In other words, you weren't a leader, you were always a follower. You simply took jobs from people, didn't question anything, and always did them the best you could. And you liked it that way.

This always seemed like the best option, as you were, admittedly, not a thinker, so your mentality was always this: do what the higher-ups say and nothing shall go wrong.

Of course, that little philosophy of yours was tested once you woke up to a certain phone call.

A phone call from a voice you couldn't recognize at all, notifying you that you left a couple of your belongings at Giovanna's estate. The man had told you to wait, wait at your home until they could arrive and, as he put it, “smooth things out”.

Like hell I’m going to do that.

While you didn’t think Giovanna was screwed up enough to, say, stick the assassination squad on you for rejecting his advances, perhaps rejecting his advances, destroying his property, referring to him by his first name, and walking out before you were dismissed, all in the span of around 50 seconds could, at the very least, spell a bit of trouble.  

So, you devised a simple little plan, all on your own.

Sneak into the estate. (Easy)

Grab your jacket and folder, and check for stains. (Also easy. Probably)

Leave without being seen by anyone. (Less easy)

Sleep, and/or change your name and move away, depending on the aftermath. (Preferably to the west of America, or anywhere outside of Europe. Not so easy)

You never imagined going back to that place the day after the whole fiasco, but it really was your only choice.

Sneaking into the building would be a piece of cake, being that your entire profession, as well as your ability, Black Hole Sun, was centered around avoiding all kinds of surveillance.

Black Hole Sun, put in the simplest way, allowed you to turn “light” into “weight”. It manifested as a cluster of pitch-black flowers and mushrooms that could sprout anywhere in a 15-20 meter radius, absorbing any light that reached them. This was ideal for creating shadows, blending into said shadows, or turning any light source into a means of vacuum-based destruction. Hell, if given the chance, you could collapse any building from the roof down, given it was daytime.

Of course, collapsing Giovanna’s home would probably be like destroying 1000 expensive lamps at once, but that’s neither here nor there, you know?

By the time you had reached the wide expanse of his property, there were only a scarce amount of people standing around. A few figures were leaving the building, but none seemed to be entering at all.

While threading between the trees around the building, you racked your brain trying to figure out where your belongings could have been. There was a decent chance they were still in his office, but you didn’t want to risk A, walking in on a possible meeting/debriefing, or B, accidentally getting caught by him, so you passed on visiting that room.

Problem was, that was the only room you knew the exact location of.

In the end, you didn’t come up with an exact idea of where your stuff could be, so instead, you decided that you’d simply check every square foot of the building. You ended up at the very back of the building, and while the expansive garden in the back was gorgeous, it didn’t exactly have good hiding spots.

You ended up prying open the largest window you saw, and carefully stepping in onto the floor as carefully as you could. As you looked around, you allowed B • H • S to dissipate, letting color fade back into your silhouette.

The room you ended up in seemed to be some kind of sunroom, the window you climbed in from giving a perfect view of the garden, as well as casting gorgeous light onto the decorated interior.

The walls to your sides were, not unlike Giovanna’s office, lined with bookshelves, this time not hyper-organized. Houseplants of different colors bloomed in multiple different places, and right next to the door was a cushioned red armchair and ottoman.

And here I was thinking he had no sense of interior decor.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t help but get distracted by the overall pleasantness of the room. Unlike the office, the temperature was nice and cool, not absolutely Siberian, and the sunlight felt nice on your flesh. Using that “every square foot” line from earlier as an excuse, you started examining the books on the shelves.

You shuffled down the row on your tiptoes, slowly, still trying to be as quiet as you could. A good chunk of the choices of literature displayed were rather surprising, you taking special note of a few books in English, and some in Japanese, both languages you didn’t realize he was familiar with. The titles you could understand were also interesting-- a lot of stuff about the supernatural, especially as you got near the end of the shelves.

Stowing away your folder in these shelves would probably be a smart move…

“Has something caught your eye?”

You bumped into something warm, stopping you right in your tracks.

Holy fuck.

The sight made your heart freeze, taking near all energy from your legs and causing you to plummet onto the floor.

“If you want to borrow any of them, feel free to ask. Do you know much English?” Giovanna, looking as prime as ever, asked. He was clearly feigning innocence, leaning over you with a glint in his eye.

To you, he looked 10 meters tall.

With your brain short-circuiting, you would've spat out incoherent babbling if you chose to speak at that moment. Fortunately, you took a second to come up with a rebuttal, putting on the fakest expression you could muster.

"Oh, here and there, y'know? Not anything very...advanced...but…"

You forced a laugh and he smiled at you, lips even glossier and more vibrant than yesterday.

He offered to help you up with a simple gesture, but with the grace of a crippled swan, you rose to your feet and backed away.

To your dismay, it only prodded him to get closer.

"So, what brought you here this morning? I don’t exactly remember inviting you." He was still staring down at you, enraging the deepest, most insecure part of your brain because he's fucking younger than me why is he so much taller-

"Uhm," you swallowed a thick clot of saliva in your throat. "I...just wanted to admire your...interior decorating…"

Shittiest excuse I've ever come up with in my life.

Giovanna stepped closer with his left, you stepped back with your right. "Is that so…? Are you sure it wasn't for...this?"

From behind his back, as if it came out of thin air, he pulled out your peacoat and held it out to you. You stifled a gasp, and reflexively reached out to take it, but at the last second he pulled it back again.

“Ah, what do we say now?” He teased, as if you were a child, smiling.

You couldn’t help but smile back at him, rolling your eyes. “Grazie, Giorn--” midway through saying his first name, you stopped and slapped your hand over your mouth. “Shi- Er, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

His expression dropped for a split-second before he started laughing, putting you off a tad. “That’s so adorable...!”  

That last word made your cheeks flush, replaying memories from the previous afternoon that drove you to step away from him. “...Right. Ahem, could I please have my coat back now?”

“Oh, certainly.” Relief.

 “But…” Oh.

The tension in the room felt like it got darker, as he raised the black garment closer to his face. “...I have a couple suspicions of my own…”

He stepped closer with his right, you stepped back with your left. “This morning, I went out of my way to get in contact with my most trusted men, so I could return your things to you safely...then, they tell me you’ve hung up on them!”

It felt cold.

“And when they get to your home, you’re nowhere to be found!”

What?

You weren’t given any time to unpack that, as he continued to go off. “Now you’re here! Without even letting me know, too...” He frowned a bit, but perked up soon enough. “But that’s alright! Because I knew you’d come back to me.”

“Huh…” All thoughts came out as a single hiccup. “What...I don’t…”

He appeared to grow a little angry, but more distraught than anything. “Bella!” he cried, knuckles white and arms trembling. “Didn’t I tell you not to act like that with me? Don’t pretend that you can’t remember what happened yesterday…”

The worst thing was, he was 100 percent right. You were pretending that you forgot what went down, when it was, unsurprisingly, on your mind since it happened. You were feigning (well, attempting to feign) innocence, hoping that it wouldn’t lead to another nightmare.

“But…” Giovanna sighed, switching moods too quickly for your liking. “That doesn’t matter anyways!” His smile was disgustingly, unbearably cute. “Because you came back to me! I knew you would!”

A chill went down your spine, prompting you to step back twice. “I, uh, think you’ve got the wrong idea--” You were cut off by him approaching again, holding his hand right in front of your face.

“See?”

What the hell is he talking about?

“I cut my nails for you last night…” He looked over his own, now shortened and even rounder, snow-white nails, “it must’ve been a bit painful when I touched you, I’m sorry about that…”

You didn’t appreciate his “apology” one bit, instead deciding to take another step back, frantically searching for the window so you could pull off an escape before it was too late. You felt the lukewarm glass on the tips of your fingers, but Giovanna stepped a bit too close for your liking, causing you to shift to the other side, eventually turning around entirely as he refused to back off.

Now the two of you had rotated, with him backing you back into the room, towards the door. The light shining from the back window bounced off the satin material of his clothing and golden accents, glaring into your eyes.

The reflexive need to close your eyes outweighed rational thought, and as soon as you blinked them shut your calves bumped against something, causing you to trip backwards and fall onto the (remarkably comfortable) red chair.

Once more, you were flattened before him, staring up with no idea of what was going to go down.

Well, you had a vague idea.

The golden boy had already made sure you couldn’t get away by just getting up, as he was standing over you in between the ottoman and the chair, one foot on the floor and the other resting right next to yours. You had caught him glancing at the light switch right by the door, making sure it was off.

Without a light source in the room, you had no good method of getting away, and collapsing the window at the other side would be useless if you couldn't even get to it.

Cornered, you dug your nails into the arms of the chair, glaring at him while pushing your head back into the cushion.

The look in his green eyes was strange, a disturbing mix of innocence and lust that made the lower half of your body feel restless. A few seconds of silent eye contact passed, before he reached down and grabbed your wrist.

You attempted to tug it away as he held it up, only to be met with a cold glare. His grip tightened before he transferred it to G • E, reaching down and doing the same to your other hand.

Straightening himself, he flipped his long braid over his shoulder. You watched as he worked off the lowest hair tie, letting the loop at the end fall loose. He stretched out the transparent band and wrapped it around both of your wrists, before tapping it again with his middle three fingers.

You felt your thin binding shift between tight and loose as it swelled and turned green. The hair tie had changed into a tight coil of stems and vines, covered in thin bristles.

When you tried to struggle, to break the botanical bindings, the bristles irritated your skin. He noticed, and pushed your hands above your head.

"Please, it's useless to try and get away from me now. I don't want you to be in pain, you know?" He punctuated his sentence with a gentle caress of your face with the back of his hand, and a peck to the tip of your nose.

He rose up and moved behind the ottoman, all while sliding his warm hand across the skin of your legs. After subtlety clearing his throat, he tried, (keyword, tried) to dip his hand between your thighs, only for you to squeeze them shut in a futile attempt to preserve your dignity.

You heard him quietly cough again, while he squeezed and then gently patted the plush flesh, as if telling you to open up. Still, you didn't give in.

His skin felt so hot against yours, like there was near boiling water flowing through his veins. Giovanna gave up trying to pry open your legs, instead pushing the ottoman right up to the chair, moving in front of it, and pulling you a smidge closer so that you were laying flat on your back.

He started by grabbing the bottom of your thighs, lifting them up then pushing back the bottom of your knees, so both legs were relatively straight, pointing up to the ceiling. G • E took hold of both ankles, keeping your limbs still.

“Wait…” You croaked out as you felt him hook his fingers into the waistbands of your bottoms. “Wha--what are you doing, Gior--” fuck.

He stopped what he was doing to look at you, and scoffed. "You're kidding, right?" Lowering your legs a bit, his lips curled into a cute little smile. "Oh, cara, you know I have much bigger things to worry about than what you call me." He leant down to hold your face in both of his hands. "Besides, we should be on a first name basis now, no?"

One part of your brain was absolutely enraged at the fact that you were still concerned about something as dumb as that, yet it still felt like a lingering weight had been lifted from your chest.

Giorno clearly didn’t like the fact that you were avoiding his eyes, and his solution was to squeeze your face a little tighter and kiss you with no warning, not hesitating to shove his tongue in your mouth.

He pulled away after you whined, drinking in the intoxicating sight of you with your lips ajar, face obviously heated, and your eyes glossy. It confused him a little, everything about your appearance, your body was telling him that you craved this just as much as (or even more than!) he did, yet everything that came out of your mouth was a contradiction!

But he didn’t let that frustrate him too much, as he knew you’d eventually give in completely. All he had to do was get the mood right. Because that’s just how it worked. Right? Right.

Lifting himself off of you, he let out a small sigh while raising your legs again, continuing whatever he had planned in that unholy little brain of his. His fingers returned to the waistband of your pants, digging between both layers of fabric and painstakingly beginning to hoist them off.

The feeling of your underwear peeling off of your crotch was already humiliating, but you knew it was just the beginning.

He let go of your clothes when they were around your ankles, before lowering himself down to “your” level.

"N-no...don't~ ♡ ! " your throat was so clammed up that your voice sounded like a broken squeaker toy, but even if you tried to shout, you knew he wouldn't listen. It was too late, anyway, since now he’s already seen everything you’d previously tried to hide. (Physically, at least.)

After a few seconds of him (presumably) leering at your privates, you felt his touch on the plump, slippy flesh, before he slid two fingers into the cleft and parted it.

"Oh, look~♡" each limb began to quiver at his honeyed, sickly voice. "It's so cute and pink here…"

Out of pure mortification, you brought your hands down and shoved two of your fingers in your maw, biting down. "No! N...not there...don't look at it…♡" Your voice and words sounded callow, but your brain was too fried to mask your true thoughts.

His hands moved to your thighs, right before he placed a pert kiss to the very center of your vulva.

Oh, lord. You could feel the mark his lipgloss left.

Despite yourself, there was a growing pressure in your gut that had you, deep, deep down, craving more. Something wet and hot swept against your inner labia, instantly making your fingers curl into fists. You pressed your knuckles against your teeth, trying to suppress a inadvertent whine.

“You can let your voice out,” you heard him say after pulling away for a second, “I doubt anybody is going to come around here.” Wow, how reassuring! Thanks for telling me, asshole! Ignoring the pain from the bristles, you moved your hands to your eyes, desperately trying to cover them. To an outsider, it’d probably look like you were attempting to gouge them out.

The wet noises that came from him lapping at you bouncing off the walls, almost amplified, taunted you. Additionally, he’d sometimes let out soft little groans of his own, which vibrated the very surface of your flesh. It was needless to say that his tongue felt a lot more invasive than his fingers, (and unfortunately, it also felt better) feeling it probe inside the most intimate part of your body drew ever-loudening wails and whimpers from your stuffy throat.

You could tell his mouth was somehow even warmer than his external skin, even inside of your already warm internals it felt nearly sweltering. Occasionally, he’d pull back for a very quick second to sigh out your name or other 1-word comments, his voice getting more brittle each time.

Something you also picked up on was very, very, subtle swallowing, as if he was drinking the mix of his saliva and your fluids.

That pressure in your gut kept pulsing, falsely building up in a way that could only be described as the physical-pleasure equivalent of a Shepard tone. In desperation, or maybe protest, you wiggled your hips, which only seemed to tempt him to grow more intense.

Your cynical side kept trying to tell you to give up, to accept this and whatever was coming next, to submit to the inevitable. It seemed that you unwittingly listened to it, relaxing your limbs and giving up on trying to muffle your voice.

In the midst of the ever-growing haze, you felt him pull away and move his hand up your thigh. He pushed his thumb between your legs, again silently asking you to open up. This time though, you obliged and spread your thighs, all while trying to press the side of your head onto the cushion, in a vain attempt to “hide”.

He gave no warning, no words before moving up and swathing your engorged clit in his idyllic lips, and that was really where things on your end began to topple.

Near instantaneously, you curled upward, letting out a strained squeal, feeling tears prick in your eyes. You covered your face with your hands, regretting every decision leading up to this point.

Too bad your body wasn’t regretting anything.

"Suh..top...♡ I’ll...I’m gonna…”

You peeked down through your hands and caught him glancing up at you, which just made your body retort in embarrassment again. In a thoughtless moment, you tried putting your hands against his silky, loosening hair, the bindings preventing you from grabbing it comfortably.

As he put more pressure on your tender pearl, your steady stream of tears reached the bottom of your head, dripping down and soaking into the seat. You couldn’t help but tighten your legs around him, at this point, all you craved was sweet, glorious release.

One more stroke of your nub, and it all crash-landed. That ever-growing pressure in your belly burst and spread, making you let out a long, high-pitched wail as your body went limp underneath him. Tears veiled your sight, directed at the ceiling.

Giorno pulled away, panting, before wiping his mouth with his sleeve and moving up the chair, so he could hover above you once more. His long, loose plait hung down and rested on your shoulder, giving you a very faint tickle.

“...was that...good?” You didn’t respond to him, as your mind was flooded with a swarm of fatigue and dopamine, “I...I apologize, I’m still very...new to this…” yet that part was enough to snap you out of your post-orgasm muddle.

“New”?

Fuck’s that supposed to mean?

Don’t tell me he’s…

No, that can’t be right…

“It can’t…” Those two words accidentally slipped out, but they were barely intelligible. Your blondie boss (bloss?) didn’t seem to notice, as he was too busy smiling at how cute you looked, all spent, drooling, and tearing up underneath him.

He straightened up a bit, your legs still wrapped around his hips, tittering. “You’re adorable, you know that?” He got no response. “Ah...I love you. You know that, right?” No response.

That didn’t seem to bother him, as his smile stayed. After a few tense seconds, you turned your head and looked up at him, and his grin seemed to widen.

“Cute...hm, I still don’t understand why you insisted on stopping your voice, I, personally, love the way it sounds.” He still wasn’t eliciting a vocal response, instead you dropped your head to the other side. Your continued silence finally looked like it was beginning to phase him, so he reached down and lifted your face a bit.

He tried to kiss you, but missed and got the very side of your mouth. You were once more reminded about how hot (literally...but also figuratively) he was, his face burning with pink and his breath near visible in the cool room.

Losing some of his control, he kept his mouth on you, his actions devolving into repeatedly pecking at your cheek while groaning “compliments”. Eventually, he straightened up again, eyes filled with something that could possibly be described as “love”.

“Well, I don’t see the point of going upstairs, why don’t we move on?” He asked, fruitlessly, before sitting up to work at his pants button. Unbeknownst to him, you watched him do this, part scared, part intrigued, but mostly weary.

He was about to tug down his suit pants the moment before a sudden, firm knock at the door echoed through the room.

“Shit.”   You heard him growl, before you made eye contact with each other, for a very quick moment. In a slight panic, Giorno tried to compose himself, glancing at you again before carefully separating from you.

“Hello?” Came an unfamiliar male voice, from the other side of the door. “Don Giovanna, are you there?” You perked up when you heard him say your name, “...that woman, we’ve looked around her neighborhood and have had no luck finding her, Sir.”

“Oh, is that so…” He was cautious, trying his best to make sure you wouldn’t leave, but to his dismay, you saw an opportunity and took it.

When he had moved out of your direct line of vision, he had let the ever-growing noon sunlight reach you, specifically, your hands. With that in mind, you manifested B • H • S on the vines, causing them to become etiolated, therefore loose, and allowing you to slip them off without fuss.

During a clearly awkward, through-a-door conversation between your boss and a random lackey, you rolled off the chair and sorted out your jumbled clothing. To get it out of the way, you shattered the window across the room. You heard Giorno’s voice go higher when he heard this, but unlike the day before, you said nothing to him, no apologies or anything before rushing to freedom.

Adrenaline was gushing through your veins, so with 0 restraint, after swiping your coat from the floor, you dashed forward, broke what remained of the window and leapt outside.

But, to one’s surprise, you didn’t go home that day. Instead, you remained at that estate, because you had to get to the bottom of something.

You had questions. Specifically: Why? What? Who? How? Me? You? And those questions needed answers. So, instead of retreating, or, say, escaping, you scoured the building for a very specific room.

Because I’m gonna get those answers, no matter what.

Was this a likely horrible decision that you would probably end up regretting and cursing yourself for making? Yes.

Was this likely going to end badly? Yes.

Would this, almost definitely, give you the explanation you longed for? Also yes.

It’s going to be a long, long evening.

♡🐞♡

n: god, whenever i copy stuff over, i have to go through it and re-italicize everything.  maybe there’s an easier way of doing this? btw, i finished a couple of my blog’s pages, so i’d say its no longer wip :D

PS: the last chapter is already 8638 words, and i’m not even done. god have mewcy on my souw. 

[perahn]

@bettydice said: 9, Khem&Shay

So I cheated a little on this one. A first attempt with the shuffle turned up Caulk Your Wagon, from ‘The Trail to Oregon’, which is a hilarious song in context, but I couldn’t think of anything to do with it except Shay butchering an ox while Khem complained about the smell, which gains nothing by being a story instead of a sentence.

A second go produced Il Divo’s cover of All by Myself, which seemed more promising.

There is so much she needs to do. There is the usual work with her spellbook, preparing for whatever problems the next day will bring (ridiculous things, situations that nobody would ever predict, and she never quite has what she needs); there is another Netherese tome, full of mysteries and challenges and lessons; there’s useless Gerald to contact and Celeste to teach; there’s other spells to master and recently acquired items she needs to investigate; there are conversations she is not yet ready to have, but could be working toward; and Khem is too restless for any of it.

She pushes back her chair roughly, stands up from her desk – duplicates, both, of those she sat at for twenty years. Too big at first, too small now, and she nearly hits her head on the bottom of the narrow bunk as she leaves the room without looking back.

She takes the stairs two at a time, climbing until her legs ache with no clear destination in mind, which means, by the magic she herself wove into the mansion spell, that she goes nowhere at all. She should stop, clear her mind, decide whether she wants to fly among the stars of her dreaming in the observatory, or walk so deep into the library that she finds whatever hisses and whispers in the shadows between the shelves, or let the simulacrum of Mistress Zhanti beat new bruises into her foolish hide… or she could fly on griffin-back with Katy, drink with Harper… probably not. They’ll be curled up together somewhere, after the day they’d had, and that’s no place for her.

She keeps climbing, faster and faster, breath coming quick and heavy, fingers curled tightly into fists and an emptiness driving her onward, an ache she doesn’t know how to assuage. There, she tells her house, her staircase. Take me where I can find an answer to that.

The steps make another full circle and suddenly terminate on a landing.

Oh, Khem thinks. She should have known.

This door and the place behind it have been here since the very first time she cast the spell. She’s never sought them out, never looked at her handiwork. They had simply existed, held secret by the fact that nobody knew to look, and there are only two people the door will open for anyway. The first stands in front of it, palm pressed against the varnished wood. Her eyes are fixed on the plaque that bears only the name of the second. The one the room was created for.

It says: Shay.

Khem takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and steps through the closed door.

Her eyes open onto a semi-tamed wilderness, a riotous profusion of flowers, trees and mushrooms. Every plant she has ever seen is represented here, awaiting Shay’s hand to turn them into an orderly and ornamental garden, or into dense thickets of floral defense. Whatever she wishes.

The earth smells of thick dew, evaporating in the slow warmth of a fine spring morning; the breeze teases wisps of cloud over the rising sun; somewhere in the distance birds are singing and the waterfalls laughs over rocks. Those details seems right, as far as she can see, but they’re the easy ones. Frowning, Khem lays aside her boots and presses her bare feet into the damp soil of the narrow path to the waterfall. She hasn’t done this much out in reality, not enough to be certain she’s replicated it correctly for Shay.

She walks, slowly now, concentrating on what her senses are telling her and perfecting the details of the extraplanar space. Now and again a carnivorous plant takes a swipe at her, but they must obey her will and thus always miss; Khem doesn’t even flinch. Near the waterfall, the spray soaks the path into dark mud, and the footing becomes less certain. The sensation isn’t really pleasant, for all its authenticity, and so Khem forbids the spray from drifting beyond the shallow pool at the waterfall’s base – at least, after it washes her muddy footprints from the line of flat, sunwarmed rocks.

The water laps around her ankles, no more than pleasantly cool, and the hem of her robe grows heavy with it as Khem walks on. Tiny fish flash silver against the sandy bottom; disturbed by her passing, they flee for the cluster of water lilies. Khem can’t remember Shay ever expressing an opinion on fish, so possibly they’re superfluous, but for now she lets them stay. The ripples are convincing, eddying out from Khem and from the waterfall.

Khem steps into it. Water pummels her bare head, her shoulders, saturates her robe instantly, and the uniform is cursed heavy when it’s wet, but Khem pushes that aside. Her hand makes a twisting motion. The force of the water increases until it stings on skin and threatens to drive her down – too much, too far, but it is a cleaner ache than the one that drove her here and a simpler one to endure. It distracts – but it doesn’t really change anything, Khem knows, and she adjusts it back to something strong enough to relieve muscular tension without hurting before she steps out of the curtain of water and into the cave behind it.

It should be dark, and in a way it is: Khem cheated with the lighting here as she did in Katy’s room.  The visible light sources don’t account for the clarity of vision available. There are a few brackets of fungi gleaming palely against the smooth rock walls and a small fire dancing in its centre, but the shadows are softer than they should be. The alchemical laboratory against one wall, for example, is perfectly visible in every detail, and so are the jars of reagents and monster relics labelled in small, neat handwriting. It should be Shay’s, perhaps, but such education as Shay was permitted was hardly focused on legibility; she’s better off with Khem’s labelling.

The cave is both drier and warmer than a hollow of rock behind a waterfall should be – perfectly comfortable, in fact, even though Khem is still soaked through. It’s no climate for the bed of soft, thick moss she sits down on, runs a hand over. Yes… this would probably do. Shay had avoided her bed in Skullport, preferring to sleep in front of the fire with Twitch; the moss seemed like an appropriate compromise, and it is as comfortable as any bed Khem’s ever slept in.

Khem lets out a long breath, hands flat on the moss. She has been busy – has barely even needed to find work to keep herself busy. Katy has needed her, and Harper has… well, Harper has been grateful for the little she’s been able to do, but dealing with the needs of a new-made vampire and securing a cure for her is much simpler than negotiating with a sekhme-at. Onora has left her little space to concern herself with much beyond necessities. But Onora is dead now, and Katy is alive again, and Cort is back in Arrabar. True, he’s left more damage behind him; true, Katy is embroiled in the will of Mielikki; true, corpsefucking Cyric seems to want Khem for something, which is scarcely less terrifying a prospect than his personal wrath. Khem is still busy, but tonight it has become impossible to deny or ignore how much she misses Shay.

It doesn’t make a lot of sense. Five years ago she was barely aware that any such person existed. Two years ago, she was a valued ally, but Khem was quite prepared to leave her behind. In the weeks before she left, they’d barely talked – well, they’d never really talked, Khem being too quick to simply reach into Shay’s mind and extract what she wanted to know. But she had trusted Shay, she had loved her, she had wanted Shay to have what would make her safe and happy, and she had let Shay walk away without a word to hold her.

Now Khem sits, dripping, among a triumph of spellcasting, and misses her.  She’s not used to this. A Red Wizard is a solitary creature. Fine, Khem is no longer quite that now, and she’s not alone: she still has Katy and Harper, and they mean more to her than she’d ever imagined others could, but it’s not enough. She wants Shay here, in this room Khem created to please her. Even if they don’t talk. Even if Shay opens her mind to Harper and spends her rare smiles on Katy alone.

Khem curls her fingers deep into the moss, tearing muddy holes into the lush green. A flick of her will grows the moss thick and tough, curling firmly around her wrists. Every wizard fears the capture of their hands, being unable to lift them into the fluid gestures of spellcasting: Khem herself can only endure it for a little over two minutes, on a good day.

This isn’t a good day, and she can feel the panic rising, quickening her breath, tight in her throat, beading on her brow. But if her hands were free at this moment, she would call to Shay, beg her to return, tell her Khem needed her…and she must not. Shay has to be free to choose.

Which means Khem has to go, has to get out of this place that speaks of Shay in every fireflicker and leafrustle. She wrenches clear of the moss, leaves it regrowing, and runs back towards the door. She’s hampered by her wet skirts, by the returning ache in her calves, and nearly stumbles over her shoes, but she doesn’t cast.

Nobody sees me, she tells the house, and begins again to climb stairs that lead nowhere.

[adcvis]

ONE DAY AT A TIME

Kaos Task 10 Raw they were in these hours. Stripped bare the the bones from where others so happily devoured their flesh- a ripe cherry.

we all know this bitch gets carried away with writing, so at the bottom there’s a nice summary for all of yall !! 

abuse tw, trauma tw

4:15 AM

Honey golds, dance with blues that ache for warmth in the dawning sky. Darkness still engulfs Roman’s room as they wake to the not-quite-night sky peering through their window, and desaturating the world as they sit up- their arms stretching out the stiffness that settles into their body as they sleep. They stand, bare feet setting in the carpet for a few steps, before finding the cool tiles beneath them as they make their way to the bathroom. They don’t much bother finding clothes to wear for modesty for the short work, their housemate would never be awake at this hour regardless.

The air settles crip in their lungs as they ride their bike under the eggshell moon that clings in the sky, and stars that glow orange even in this hour. It’s half past four by the time they make their way to their father’s, passing through the occasional glow of a street light, before the long stretches of nothing but the morning glow to light their way. It’s not every day they do this trek anymore, not since two years ago. Now it’s just every couple of days, they make their way over to fulfill their morning duties. Lend a hand to their father, how could he do it all on his own?

It’s Thursday, one of those days that claustrophobia settled into Roman and they quietly place their bike against the shed, and turn on the lights. Florescent tubes harshly flood the space, as they flicker to life with their gentle humming. If anyone was to see Roman stood in this space, they may perhaps see a truth that radiated from the steel walls that reflected memories of youth. Ones Roman’s learnt to look away from when their eyes dared linger too long on a wrench that clattered to the ground, now rest in a pile of motor oil- or the rusting bench that creaks and shakes the shed with the weight of a person thrown to it. It’s easy to see them here as they were as a child, demure, in their cream t-shit and jeans that held dirt and oil no matter how many times they’d seen the wash. Careful, not to be too loud, their hands taking years to find how not to be clumsy as they reached for anything near in sight and tightened white knuckled around the pain.

Breathe.

They remember to breath standing there. Their motions now close to mechanical, done in habit a hundred times over as they grab a bale of hay, lock the shed behind them. And begin making their way down to the paddock. They’re thankful they don’t have to rearrange the piles today, or bring in any new batches. But it’s this motion, as they’re carrying down in the dark, that sculpts the muscle in their body.

Gentle tussling, and moos are heard growing louder as he approaches, before hooves are heard hitting the dirt beneath them and coming over to greet Roman at the fence.

7:32 AM

He spends the next few hours in the fields, muddy flecks clinging to their clothes, and hands sweat dampens their shirt and runs from their forehead. The sun’s beginning to break the horizon, and the dew on the grass glistens with the days light. Grime wipes across Roman’s face where he can’t help stray hands, and dirt digs under their fingernails. And their body, like clay- malleable by the that hungered for him, is moving with such rhythmic ease. They hear the shed door opening in the distance, clattering metal singing through the still air. Their heart pounds against their chest. The birds silence and Roman just stands from where their knees rest in the dirt, and wipe the sheen from their cheeks. They remember to breathe.

8:18 AM

The island is somewhere Roman things they buried their bones a long time ago. Somewhere the birds sung to the sun that beamed rays of warm, and kissed the earth- and where trees and bushes grew wild, and roots would overcame their body and let their blood turn to nectar. Where they gave themselves completely to Kaos. They’d dream of such things, riding their bike home the long way around the island. When it started to become alive again. Vibrant under the glow of daylight. A delicate being, reflecting the sun in fractured iridescent light. Raw they were in these hours. Stripped bare the the bones from where others so happily devoured their flesh- a ripe cherry. Ready to sink your teeth into, and draw the marrow from their bones searching for that pit. It was the honesty of them. With melancholy to their eyes, and the lines of their face almost harsh that were so used to being hidden from the world. They were nothing more than a plump shiny fruit that’s already been passed through too many hands.

Devour me.

There are things that break these thoughts, like stopping to see friends at the cafe they now own- golden in these hours with bright smiles and a coffee waiting for them. And the woman who stood behind him in line, he so graciously offered to buy the coffee for, and accompanied her on her walk into town. Things that would break the honestly of Roman, not for it wasn’t true of them to be so charming. Rather, they’d stop being so raw, and hollow. And that cavern of darkness inside them where a pit should be, that longed to be loved in the only way they were taught, would stop aching. For at least a little while.

It was easy not to think in these times, when the words their mother taught them found place in their mouth. And the charming smile distracted from the dirt that clung to their clothes, and the red welting where a bruise would be forming on their forearm. They’d always know how to be what others needed, so much so that it was so easy not to see Roman.

09:06 AM

The coffee was cold by the time they made it back to their vineyard. Clad brick walls, that hide engulfed by trimmed leaves- still dewy from the morning mist. Or had Alexander already been down and watered the garden this morning? They could have sworn it was his day off.

Still they place the coffees on the bench, before they take a sip of their own as they start pulling out mushrooms, spinach and eggs to begin breakfast. Their employee taking the shop front for the day meant they were in no real rush.

09:41 AM

Kaos even at this hour would feel like it was sleeping, as Roman walks down to his vineyard with red wine slipping up the sides of a glass they hold as they tumble slightly in their step. It’s not unlike them, to have a taste of the newest batch as they head to the garden for some pruning. Their next harvest days aren’t until August, which means for now it’s simply upkeep. And the drips for the leaves tells Roman that Alexander was certainly here this morning. Yet they don’t want to leave, so they keep themselves busy.

11:29 AM

An ache settles into their muscles, and stiffens their back that they can still feel even after they stepped from the shower, they had in hoped that the hot water that rushed over their body would relieve their dull pain. But the hot water only reminded them of the bruise that would be known on their back, welling up to a vibrant red already. And the way their skin softened around where fingers grasped tightly. A reminder. Sometimes they forget to be quiet around him- since moving out their footsteps have found heavier treading, and they found it harder to be unknown. Not in a way they used to be at least. But they bite their tongue, and dry around where rough hands sculpted him- because by now it’s all too easy to accept.

Their own vineyard looked too perfect today not to share with anyone. Especially after they spent the last few hours in it. Pruning leaves, and mulching the earth. Caring for the plants, each a breathing part of this Island. Thumbs fiddling to find names as they scroll through their phone list, some seem familiar, others have drunken pictures to accompany them- others, Roman guesses they’ll remember the face to the name one day. They open up a familiar name though, looking to the previous sent messages with amusement clinging to their face. And they type out an invite.

03:13 PM

slightly nsfw

They know it’s not love. Tangled bed sheets, and wine soaked breath. Fingernails grazing their back, where bruises are now known. Their breath short, as they kiss tender thighs where the bury their head. Sweat is heavy in the air, that’s now thick to breathe. But all they can smell is the saccharine sweet scent of the other’s perfume flooding the air. Messy are their kisses, that taste of dried apricots, and fresh cherries that left their lips a vibrant stain of red. Roman thinks they could sink their teeth into them and devour them. Or was that the creature they called love that stirred inside them. Beating at their chest, it would threaten to shatter the sculpture that was Roman.

Made to be loved.

Adored.

06:05 PM

They wake to the cool breeze sending goose bumps tailing along their skin, where sweat still clung to cool them- and their arm stretching out to reach to the other. But their bed beside them empty. Their eyes open despite the groggy protest, and the room still smells of honey, and cherries- and overly sweet fruits that could have been fermented. Rotten. It’s the only way anything could be that sweet they think. If it’s truly rotten from the inside. They know that much to at least be true about themselves.

08:24 PM

God, you look just like him.

Delicate hues begin to waft through the sky each night at sun set, something Roman would never truly grow old of seeing. The street lights that ting to life around the roads and cast a glow on the person that stepped from the taxi into the middle of a street coming to life. Idle chatter surrounds them, and swarms their ears in comfort. Home. It would always be home. But there would barley be a shadow of resemblance left on them of the person that came to life in the sun that morning.

It wasn’t the way their pressed shirt seemed too sharp, or the way their shoes polished don’t look like they’ve seen a speck of dirt in their lives. Instead it’s that untraceable mask that lines their face- that smile, too sharp for their own likings. One they hated to see in mirrors, and stretched across their features. They’re not sure the day their father lost his mask, and Roman clung to it so desperately with white-knuckled fists. But it’s there now, staring at them in window reflections.

“Table for Veretta,” Although it’s not needed. They’re always at this restaurant, the same nights, just with different people. Night times in Kaos always were the best times for business, and tonight it wasn’t unlike many others. A big city restaurant owner, who’d travelled quite some distance to be here tonight. Of course it never was just for the vinsanto. It would be to see the island, or a long needed holiday, or somewhere to spend time with the mistress. and of course it was a coincidence, but they had to make time for a meeting.

10:43 PM

Warm chuckles and a honeysuckle voice, Roman and their guest had barley notice the time pass over dinner and the bottles of their own vinsanto that kept the table with flushed cheeks and dark stained lips. The two left with a deal for a few crates shipped every month, and the warmth that fills one’s body be it happiness, good conversation, or intoxication. And Roman can’t stand the idea of simply going home for the night.

FRIDAY

01:13 AM

The night air is cool on the breath, but it doesn’t phase the young couple that stumble around the tiled living room. Roman’s hair disheveled from where the other had their fingers tangled in it, and their laughter wafting through the house- echoing on the brick despite their drunkenly ushered hushes after the outbursts.

SUMMARY TLDR ; 

- 4am early riser, soft boi hours - the moon’s still in the sky as they start riding the bike to their fathers to work on the farm - sad boi hours begin, god it always hits hard in a place filled with memories - roman’s different in the morning, like someone who only becomes known when others tell them what they want. before no one sees them, they’re a blank canvas. working away on the farm, mundane work, keeping busy. - trauma thoughts - on the way home stops past their friends coffee shop - of course they buy coffee for the girl behind them in line, god who isn’t pretty here?? walks her back to her hotel room- oKAY now it’s time to go home to make breakfast - god it’s nice to be loved -  thought it was my employees day off today? oh?? guess not - oh they don’t even have to be working in the cellar because chester already went so ott here and didn’t wanna do mORE - that’s okay, gonna get some wine and make busy work in the garden anyway  - wow everything hurts in the shower, but that’s usual - you know- it wAS really nice in the garden today. can’t keep that all to themselves - mid day booty call anyone?? - wow,,, someone responded- yea okay - mid afternoon naaaaps - they’re not there when he wakes back up, that’s okay - god, is he turning into his dad? - no, no i can’t be. god he’s poisoned them though - good thing there’s a bUSINESS MEETING TO DISTRACT - dressing up, going out- wow he hates how much he is just like his father though.... he really is.... - that goes well, got a new client in a big city, couple crates a week - gonna go celebrate - oop what’s that, we going back to the vineyard at 1am, soaked in alcohol and giggling. yeah fam

[eeveevie]

For the sweet prompt: how about a love bite and swimming/taking a bath? I know it’s two prompts but I saw it and it got stuck in my head!

from this list

*mild sexual themes but nothing smutty here, just nekkid in a river*

Brynjolf x f!Dragonborn (Fiona) 

962 words (under a cut) | Ao3

Sunset in Riften was always a sight to behold. Fiona watchedthe hues mix along the horizon, admiring the beauty of it all. She had beenoutside that afternoon, gardening in the small plot attached to Honeyside. It wasone her more relaxing hobbies, a comforting pastime when she wasn’t runningjobs for the Guild or off galivanting across Skyrim, saving hold from randomdragon attacks. Plucking at the various flowers, mushrooms and herbs was alsohelpful in passing the time until Brynjolf returned.

He had left with Delvin for a small job in Shor’s Stone thatmorning, nothing that wouldn’t prevent him from returning by nightfall. Fionaobserved the dusk skies for a few moments longer before entering her home,deciding to tidy up and start preparations for an evening meal for the two toshare—no doubt Brynjolf would be hungry from his travels.

Before long, the lock on the front door wiggled, Fionaglancing up from the fireplace stove-pot just in time to watch as Brynjolfcrossed over the threshold. She couldn’t help but laugh at his appearance. His Guildarmor was covered in mud and dirt, blades of grass and leaves stuck to variousparts of his body as if he had rolled back to Riften. And was that blood?

“By the Nine Bryn,” she continued through fits of laughter. “Wereyou attacked by a tree?”

Brynjolf shrugged with a grin as he stepped further into thehome, tracking a mess behind him. “Worse. A bear. I suppose that makes me andDelvin rather manly, eh?”

“Not really,” Fiona giggled as his expression faltered. “Imean, how many bears have I killed?”

“Point taken.”

When Brynjolf tried to lean in to greet her with a kiss,Fiona yelped, playfully shoving him away as a goop of mud dripped off of hiscoat onto her linen dress. He let out a hearty chuckle, trying again to wrapher into an embrace but she pushed him away.

“You aren’t getting a kiss until you are clean!” sheinsisted. “And don’t smell like the inside of a bear.”

She waved towards the back door that led to the westernriver that flowed alongside Riften and Honeyside. Brynjolf rolled his eyes but maneuveredaround her to the door. “Aye, if you say so,” he paused, rummaging through thetrunk at the foot of their bed for a change of clothes. “Might you be joiningme lass?”

Fiona regarded his question—it was oh sotempting—but it was also tempting to want to tease him. So, she bit the insideof her cheek to hide her guile and shook her head. “No, I think you can handleyourself.”

Brynjolf’s usual smirk wavered and he stared at her for asecond, as if he was struggling to determine if he truly done something tooffend her. But when she smiled, he mimicked her and nodded before awkwardly exitingthe house. Fiona softly chuckled to herself, only allowing a little time topass before she quickly changed—rather stripped—wrapping herself in a largecloak so she wasn’t completely bare as she made her way outside.

Fiona exited through the east door, sticking to the shadows ofthe city walls under the dark evening sky as she slipped through the city gatesand around the dirt path down to the riverbank behind her home. She croucheddown behind the pier near some bushes, smiling to herself when she noticedBrynjolf immediately. He was standing just beyond the docked boat in theshallow water, most of his body submerged beneath the surface. Fiona lingeredin her hidden spot to watch him, simply admiring the movements of his bodyunder the moonlight. She felt warm—prideful, oh how lucky she was tocall this man hers. As much as Fiona wanted to stay and watch Brynjolf bathehimself in the river, she needed to be closer.

Finally, she removed her cloak, carefully placing it on theriverbank before slinking her body into the water. She watched Brynjolf the entiretime, his head never turning back to inspect some noise he might have heard—becausehe didn’t hear anything. Fiona submerged herself completely as she drew closer,springing up when she knew she was right behind him. Immediately he hadflinched forward, but as her arms moved to wrap around his torso, he relaxed, hislaughter mixing with hers as he realized it was only her.

“Did you only say no so you could scare the soul out of mybody?” he asked, tone evening out as he leaned against her.

Fiona hugged him, running her hands across his chest as shenuzzled her cheek against his shoulder. “Perhaps.”

He sighed, relaxing further as her teasing touches onlydrifted more south. Simultaneously, Fiona kissed at his neck, trailing up anddown the column of his throat before focusing on a spot right below his ear.Brynjolf was always one to leave marks on Fiona’s skin—especially on herneck—she smiled against his skin as she thought about getting the chance to returnthe favor. She nibbled and sucked at his skin, kissing more tenderly as softermoans escaped from his mouth. While it encouraged her, Fiona wanted to keep thegame going. Without warning, she shoved herself away from him and waded furtherinto the river’s water.

Brynjolf turned around, startled by her disappearance andsudden lack of contact. “And just where are you going?”

“Oh, did you want me to continue?” she giggled at hisflustered expression and the way he nodded as if she had asked if the sky wasblue. “Well…” she continued to swim away as he advanced towards her with adarkened, more devious grin.

“You’ll have to catch me first!”

[itslaeshorseeh]

To Condorcet

They were all turning left, the cars oncoming       While they in seats were listening to their tunes. The engine sound, amongst the turtles, humming,       Was loudly in their ears, this day of June’s, Which all combined, were coming down to summing       Up for a good one for the gnomic Runes, Which mark their hearts and mind with calendars, Of best and better of those gallant hours. Where the Columbian River flows and cuts,       Gem Of the Mountains, Idaho’s Basalt Formations, their ambitious earth abuts;       The light that had been strongly cast, a fault Would find for one thin ray, and then it puts       Itself out; day’s revolving, too, must halt. Well-wearied travelers their speed did check, As might befit in darkest hours, one’s neck. Of all the things that haunt men with a passion,       The blind discovery like of what was gemmed, Compares with that which later keeps its fashion—       They sensed, that out of vastness, from there stemmed, The answer self-sufficient laying at Ashton       For which they long, and flee from what condemned. They sought out sights and towns that they found rustic, On roadways leading to the russet dust, slick.

For now the cars could be seen in three miles       In each direction, when their eyes were dry From lack of sleep where roads to one point files;       And straight away the thoroughfare did ply One to reach the end; Auriga’s light brought smiles,       Being behind, the light still did not die, But like they bore celestial wings, gave wind, So they could reach Snake River Plain, their Ind. With all these Rocky and Cascade Range Mountains,       The din of suburb or the city stifles; What one could call a rat-race is all’s fountains,       Give or take, gardens ripe with green and trifles; There is so much that paying eyes’ account wins,       Especially what one sees changing by the eyefuls-- The patches grown, and the games over, women Who their expenses gained had as glum win.

They pared their hours with solid witticisms,       Such as, that without water, by it new ones, In the form of shadows, water pipes find schisms       And of the name take on just pipes; that show runs Not being trapped, to source the water’s prisms,       And being caught, would percolate for due fun’s. To bathrooms, would these runs belong; digestion Is how it should end, any solid question.

But those who have the props fill up and clean,       And ‘mong the qualities of bare things, it takes on A clean look when a thing of craft would lean,       And glide there on as crafts on seas wake ‘pon, To show of Memory that they are Dean.       Until the moment when rents come, the air makes gone A rosy hue, which all life girds, from sky To sea, and turmoil round with peace both dye. But beauty being one, a serum’s fast:       Their food they found like Cream of Mushroom: Campbell’s; And flattened what had contents made to last.       They found the curiosity that ambles, Which they saw as the countryside’s late past,       And hoped the stray spark would not light up brambles, When off their touchstone they then ventured answer, That magic made Astolfo a good lancer. Beside the road they could imagine spears:       Since strength was much in favor in a saddle Which gave a view and a good segue steers.       Besides that was the rune’s puissance in battle, Which made with it, endured itself thro’ fears.       These weapons thus inspire Perfection’s prattle, For which gleamed bronze-age gold, and now some truth: From Polydorus to Astolfo, myrtle’s ruth. Friendships that secret counsels lack are like,       One’s instant bowl of noodles without heat, Or, chains that fall again off of one’s bike,       Or, oranges that are not a seedless treat, Or, even worse, a starry student’s spike       Who does not have the chops to be elite: The friends who keep each other at their word, Are like two wings of an ideal bird. At Vantage on, they talked of old loves, still hurt.       They mentioned names that their hard memories tumbled, Such as Charissa who they knew a chill flirt,       For whom the boys like bumble bees oft stumbled. This peaked when young, like time made Curtis Gilbert,       Until suburban Exodus all humbled; Which they attempted now as in a race, To take the Void on as it took plan’s place. It happened when one least expected to,       Which was the facet skies cut out for those, Large clearings that had lake reflections blue,       And if one e’er came back the status quo’s, To Cherry Trees that gave Quad sections hue,       The quad profuse with cherry blossom shows, If not these, then, a call for a visitor For leaving out the Grand Inquisitor.

Tsunamis pummeled Hamadōri’s Sendai       When the Okhotsk plate slipped, in Fukushima— It was a cup of coffee grounds to blend dry.       Pacific plates went under Iwo Jima— They went around what was the river bend high—       And under the Vaughn Hubbard Bridge there gleamed a Nice spot where stopped Snake River’s affluent; Then, gone went particles with sediment. If wandering, one just needs to search life back,       The point? Not the Republic, Plato’s love, I’ll save myself more wondering by a knack,       It may have been the bee’s be-morse, where of The little dots they find their language’s track—       Fourteen, for me has always been the grove Plus Ultra: things that God once put by stream All healed together, Raphael would dream.

What stopped our predecessors from their ruling,       Must have been lack of speaking back to meter, I called upon the Fates, no-one am fooling,       As from a mold, the die cast as repeater, Then always blessed by seven! ‘Tis a cruel thing,       Thirteenth twin legions' lions! But O! how sweeter, ‘Tis that step over stream, that’s ne'er as neat, The Rubicon I crossed, with oaths to meet.

 One stream doth separate the perfect, dusting       Eternal gold, that sacred second seven! A chasm I would venture where it must sing,       Aeolian harps that play, are here in heaven, How long will play our visions we are trusting?       The scroll lights up and some power transferred—leaven, Since what makes these events occur is fourteen, Like Juno’s nurses, hiding what have more seen—

The thing most often missing in equation,       May be the units, fourteen passed three-fifths, That's one percent of one percent's, but weighs in:       Thirty-nine fiftieths by thousandths: myths That greenwood was, the coals to feet a basin.       A hero sees the world by breadths and widths. Imagine, what we leave to actuaries, Being caught in their likelihoods, like faeries. Like those who heard foretold, the thirty sucklings,       By backwards alpha and omega dubbed; As Saturn men gave sickles, and showed time luck brings,       This New Age would have perfect crossbows flubbed, And all have wandered in the sea like ducklings,       If not I with black bile spelled in, or rubbed— My luck began the same way it had ended, With just a spin-the-wheel, which just my friend did.

If Time was given Saturn’s name, and Light       Named Janus, weep the Reaper, Flee the Source! More often not, Perfection will not fight       With half as much this truth as its resource; But as Decay of the Omega’s quite       A problem when, it seems the fire grows hoarse, More increase I am obligated muse, I’ll pay back Death two silver, Time its news. The Rower might as well be down the Charles’,       At least from River Side, since that is far Away closed-off, a well that truth lets borrow this;       The Rower’s coxswain is a self-same star, As all the seven; England lends to war, earls, ‘tis       These apothegms like those not found to jar. The Rower a good coxswain was, for led It then the self-same spirit paths to tread. This Two-faced Janus served their Dionysus.       They paths had crossed beneath the starry Cetus, By Touchet on the road, then Lowden’s crisis,       Namely, the savages the French made weet fuss, A slaughterhouse, amid their guns’ devices;       T’ was four days fighting, signed a treaty sheet was; These plains’ hills roll, pass by around French Corner, Grande Ronde had formed Blue Mountains which adorn her.

From the Snake River flowed Grande Ronde, to there,       Where Mill Creek from the Willow Creek with Shaw creek, Formed many others, Summerville to share,       And from these, Hacker Creek with Coon Creek, all meek In various forms: My Muse departs from air,       And seems to use a logic that I seek; Frenchmen’s Springs Member flowed from Pendleton, And retched from earth, once ruined gentle din.

La Grande they passed, named by a Settler's mind,       His name was Charles Dause; Like him, Payette, Fur-trappers were, and make towns sound refined,       The front and end of their day's trail may fit, Around the tale of Baker City's find,       The senator that found the mess, they hit. The boats were not enough to cross Potomac; He gave his life, for which the town's a throwback. They passed the ghost-town which had tuff from flows,       The open spaces being found past hills, They went where tuff-stone quarries long repose.       Volcanic rock which porous in Italian bills As tufo, which consolidated, froze,       Its fineness prized, was reached by use of drills. At Weatherby, Express Ranch, between Lakes Paddock north, Lowell lower, housed some drakes. And here I take the course, themes to attend,—       If stars hold what we call the storied fates, Then O’! My Muse her song her voice will bend,       A lyric song that all depreciates, And still lives on, a token worn on end.       To prove a point, I ‘liven rabbles’ prates; This next one they will say is a heart-breaker, The left hand Zeus holds thunder, the earth-quaker. If systems hold the processes for casts,       The moral is not difficult to catch; Since fixtures in the skies eke out repasts,       Still, man has in this age, no plan to hatch, But thinking opportunity still lasts       For his best goals, and growing a new patch. I may say more and spin clichés retold, Where boldly gained are fortunes, hopes enfold. An octopus was secret nightmare, sealed—       Sir Marinell had Ocean rear up gold, Whom shores of Cyclades had dropped a shield,       Like Jove his dimmed escutcheon extolled, And by the prophecy no woman’s field       Is, I was given it by all, and I foretold— There I had seen, in seven of their mix, One thing I called six hundred-sixty-six.

The rat-race and its fountains these were not;       The valley pass beneath the town of Lost Blue Bucket held the tale of gold not sought,       Then, Malheur from across He-Devil tossed. The hills as big as canyons here have got,       Changed colors with the season, as with frost. The one regret some have when they are twenty, They finished college--Caldwell had their plenty. The foothills green, were dotted, Basin Big       Sagebrush and Curleaf Mountain Mahogany, The foothills north of Boise, lit a sprig,       Which they saw in the Sagebrush-covered lea. They raced their way through like the Topgear Stig,       Inside their shared Landrover, had to be By Mountain Home when Rocky Bar was haunted, Then passing Cleft, the country curved as wanted.

The mountains being footing for a Hermes,       Had snow untouched that nothing would remove, Until they showed his passing on their firm freeze,       When snow-caps, bent, contained a watery groove. The foothills having snowmelt were one term, keys,       And locked until the spring, which it made move. Once past a field of wheat, the path had taken Scene-hunting to where inclines needed break-in. The road’s Chalk Cut, they ham went through what’s Hammett,       Glen’s Faery King Hight Hill-Bliss said, “Tuttle! A boon abounds abroad, big is its gamut.       Reach for the Craters of the Moon by shuttle, Where there are dreams deferred there where they cram, bit       By bit, the landscape with their dart-ends’ cuttle. The two accepted, filed ‘ere bad behavior, And Hagerman and Buhl passed by, depths wavier.

King Hill-Bliss’ remark they saw as artful:       Since faeries feast on fresh-squeezed honey, famine Was felt by tiny peoples what by part, full       Ravages so that they have less to cram in, Less honey milk on honey cakes’ dessert bowl,       Which for a boon, these heroes sought the shaman, A shady friend who in his hut was suited Beyond Shoshone Falls, and not secluded. The Shaman lived in Murlaugh, on a strand.       From Tuttle did the two then go to parley, The two had plans involving talks that spanned       A windy plain of wild growth: groats from barley Owned by King Hill-Bliss, left by sprites of sand       From Morpheus, were made to rot and gnarly. To fend off ergot, they learned fungicides Were not the answer, but to find fey guides. Scale insects they collected for their Faerie’s mana,       Their sweet saps in glass jars secured, was filled, Once hands that grasped like hands to strip some fauna,       Of course, a looser grip would bugs make chilled. Accretionary shapes smelled like banana,       Plus like a mashed-up serving of it milled, When on the circular rim, sap fell clumped, All thanks to Sage advice, built up what’s dumped.

The honeydew filled up, like cotton white,       And the scale insects seemed disturbed, and shaken; It may have been the sunlight’s cause, the light       In ultraviolet spectrums that they bake-in, But Western Pines have shade, which anchored tight.       From Tuttle then to Burley, pains to slaken, Just as the Murlaugh Seer said, wild food Was gathered off of trees where bugs had poo’d. The honeydew was to their tastes, a sweet.       The faeries there restored what was of blight That made the rye fields like-smells secrete       To cleanliness from honeydew-fed might, And, then, the sickly parts cast off the wheat       Made fungi lesser seen, though once spread quite. Though question one might how the faeries, fed, Had this new problem from a source that spread? The fight had always raged, beneath our noses,       When bees went home and hives retched up and built, ‘Twas with the stolen honey that one goes less       For when the arbors closed their lives, ungilt. They had much better food, from nuts than roses,       And being taught in magic, made pans tilt, Without them having ever left their verdure; But they were summoned by the sound of merger. The mason stamp was honey-bear-like contoured,       And with a customary twist, and toss, Of which friends heard a clatter, it then sauntered       Before it came down after rolling moss. So leaving food, they made like Limbert onward;       It was enough, because as gloss, the sauce, To faeries seemed like stacks, and tribes as tall, And Burley was thus saved, and plumped were all. Cotterel was seen passed in distance: older       And held up kettles, while Acequia held, Its tributaries, and with tears to shoulder       Stood Minidoka, where its fountains swelled. Raft River taken, showed Snake River’s holder:       American Falls Neeley guarded, belled By nearby Bannock ‘round the corner, bubbling Across of highway eighty six, guts doubling. A ship could have a crew with names the likes       Of which the towns had: Chubbuck, Gibson, Blackfoot, And just because the way they saw it strikes       Truer this way, the Indians in tracksuit, Wapello even here, past Gibson hikes       Up to the shore of Firth, by Shelley’s jackboot. From Pocatello anabasis stretched, North, where in Ammon they passed plains far-fetched.

Aquila shines the Altair: Idaho       Falls was where carriers shined like boyhood that Laomedeians raised to fame, did. Though       Hebe was soon replaced, whose pants went splat, The Trojan Prince would goblets tend, that glow.       The Mount Olympus destination that The golden eagle carried him to, twin- Peaked, seconds better, not like “lettuce-win”.

Now finally they came and found potatoes:       In silos they like kernels reached the tops, And filled with earthy bodies at the Date’s close,       Where they would be shipped off to all these stops, From Rexburg which a Morman’s name its fate owes.       Fall River split off Henry's Fork, and drops At Ashton; land like Atargatis eastern. The two Three Tetons gave names which the beasts earn.

Three mountains, they were Ashur, Cadwalladr,       And Maruduk, the Grand, South, and the Middle Tetons. The winged sun, battle leader sure,       And Bull Calf. Instrumental to acquittal, The weapon Maruduk used in the war,       Imhullu countered Tiamat’s sprayed spittle By wind of four, so arrows wind of seven Had decompressed, then Kingu caused skulls riven. Like Cetus are most sea-beasts. Take Poseidon,       Who sent for sacrifice, Troyano’s fairest. Then Laomedon, Cetus quelling, tied on       The cliff his daughter Hesion, when he darest, And kept his horses, not his word, when fight gone.       For his last scion, Priam’s goods were rarest, Kept close in Polydorus’ hands thrusted, Until the greedy Thracians proved mistrusted. The Cliffs at Henry’s Lake not far from Ashton,       Had springs by Naiads blessed, and trumpeter Swans there inhabited, the avian lashed in       The arms of Leda, Queen of Sparta, her, For Zeus unlike Semele who he mashed-thin,       Swan Valley tucked like Crete, a swan’s form pure, That not unlike Pleiades guided feeding, And so was Helen got by unplanned breeding. The rainbow trout caught there at mountain footsteps,       Were pass-times even when the Milky Way Displayed its naval in the autumn, loot depths       That only twenty feet hid by the bay, Which the Black Mountains showed in strokes by mute reps       Of ripples at the borders’ interplay. The nation here went where, as if Great Plains Were like the edges of a world space drains. At Old Ranch Steakhouse were the patrons, Melson,       Who was just shy of twenty, and his sage Father who was at graduation, belts in       A suit and tie, asking why a steak would gauge Better cooked well-done, to the taste buds—melts in       The mouth less if it is not kept off fire’s rage;  The cooking not as important in the steak’s life,  As blood and sauce that gleam around their lake’s knife. The diner’s wooden handrail mostly gleaming,       Drew on new patrons  under lanterns minds had, The waiters basked in screens, and kitchens steaming,       The décor featured pioneers of kinds bad, The clattering in the kitchen that made more absent seeming,       The hanging LED screens that new finds had,  Of advertisements, opportunities,  In flux, of mattress sales, or Moon trip’s fees. The polos on  the waiters had full contrast:       The intermittent light between shrubs, The age displayed, one a dimension fast,       Where vehicles could make tremendous subs, Artificial intelligence unclassed.       The question why we live, to have like Tubbs, The sight was clear, though far away, and hilly, And there were sales to make, by land made still free. For Papa had for just the traveler       Three years before, bought him an old manual land Automobile, that from the grounds made gravel stir,       With foot-wide tyres. With it had Melson planned For every place to host artistic blur,       This owing to time which passes quickly, grand, As well as to traditional senses found, In taking stock poetically of ground. They paid the waiter, passed beneath the corn sheaves,       Which covered door jambs, before they departed, From one another, so this had left the torn sleeves       Of Modern Liberty of limbs full-hearted, The light it bore which being smoothly as morn leaves,       Which made the niche bear out perfection charted; For youth was wasted if you never grew up, And Melson thought he must, for plans he drew up.

The Heritage High roof, a spacious car,       Reliable though at the cost ‘tis said, That owners of this car date less by far;       Was for cross-country travel, which time bred Exclusively for trips shown popular       By travel agents that hid in the head, Of artists and survivalists, as one, Must suffer for their art: times pleasure shun. Art was a job collectivizing surveys,       And like the minnow on a crocodile Had made the task of cleaning points, but verve pays       To the fresh-forming bubble: where folks stayed a while, Not for too long, since the attractions serve days,       Their share of their due fun, paid back each mile That had required their time, first sights ignored: Like when bald eagles knew from eyes that soared.

So Nature needs a spirit to take Notice.       If things are seen apart, they take disguises, So are like newer revelation made to focus,       So are the sites attracting crowds whose sizes, Are thinner like Odysseus’ fed Lotus-       Who back home sent were, but new Trojan prizes, Were left a means of a recovery Pushed for when Melson sought discovery.

Since art is like an inspiration solid,       Not being abstract, it refit its owner, Though more than complimentary, all Id,       Especially these days the algorithms’ tones, sure, Make simple pages less like where a shawl slid,     Less like where sunlight on floors were plants’ honer, Than an artistic muse, like landscape blogging Which was, in general, the calling for his hogging.

[moons-rising]

biomes of the sunbeam ruins

this post of mine last night has prompted me to look at real world biomes to flesh out this headcanon of mine so here it is! (beware: long post!) i made a rough map to visualize things, just quickly traced it off the on-site world map so it’s not perfect but it works for this purpose~ (big version here on imgur!)

disclaimer: this is not scientific, only vaguely inspired by real world biomes and mostly just what looks and sounds nice to me for a fantasy dragon world! obviously it’s also not official flight rising canon \o/ (headline links go to wikipedia pages of real world equivalents i envision for these biomes, where applicable!)

general:

the sunbeam ruins are hot and arid. summer days commonly reach up to and over 20 sunlight hours a day (in a 24 hour day), and even in the “winter” months (there’s no true winter) sunlight hours rarely drop below 15 hours a day. the sunbeam ruins used to be covered completely by water, one of the large waterways that allowed the sea of thousand currents to be filled, resulting in countless water-carved sandstone canyons and gargantuan rocks formations formed by the currents. of this waterway only the large river cutting through the hewn city remains as the land dried up over the ages. vegetation has adapted to rare rain and harsh, near eternal sunlight, with many plants growing small, dark leaves covered in a layer of wax to retain moisture, or only opening up in the few nighttime hours.

central desert:

stretches across most of the central sunbeam ruins, does not touch any borders with the ocean or other lands. easily hot enough during the day that only fire dragons still feel comfortable. lack of clouds or humidity in the air causes cold nights, which is when what little fauna lives in the regions tends to come out of hiding. most dragons crossing the desert travel at night. light dragons living in the central desert have adapted to using their element to bend the sunlight around themselves, which helps to endure the heat. (side effect: altering the light hitting them can make light dragons in the desert look ethereal and “only half there” to others.) vegetation is incredibly sparse, though lush natural gardens (and valuable cool shade) can be found hidden in underground caverns and deep-reaching ruins. a few surfacing underground rivers create thriving oases that mark important and vital stops on land trade routes that cross the desert. otherwise the desert is deadly. aside from travellers and a few especially hardy clans, very few living beings make this region their home.

common vegetation: stonespine cactus, desert scrub, highland dryleaf

northern forest:

a rather dense forest consisting primarily of hardy, large redwood trees that stretches along the northern shore. vegetation is still influenced by the nearby viridian labyrinth and more vibrant and dense than almost anywhere else in the ruins. still hot, but less arid due to more frequent rain caused by proximity to the ocean. this region is especially dense in large ruin complexes, which tend to be heavily overgrown by plantlife, nourished by a vast network of small rivers and streams winding across most of the region. both the sundial terrace and the mirrorlight promenade are located here. animals are as plentiful as the plantlife. the abundance of natural resources, proximity to the ocean and ease of survival make this region popular with young clans.

common vegetation: northern redwood, pelagas trees, sunbeam figs

western wetland:

a stretch of swamp land at the border to the tangled wood. this region sees more rainfall and less sunlight than any other in the sunbeam ruins besides the hewn city. still warm, but noticeably cooler than most other regions. flora from the tangled wood growing alongside native vegetation is a common sight, including many fungi not found anywhere else in the sunbeam ruins. light seems to fade the further west one travels, even with the sun at its highest and even when flying above the tree tops. flora and fauna are plentiful, though the lingering influence of the tangled wood makes the region less comfortable to non-shadow dragons than the northern forest.

common vegetation: dusk jadevine, mire chestnut, glow mushroom

savannahs:

found at the edges of the central desert and along the border to the shifting expanse to the south. temperatures are high but occasional rain allows for trees to grow, providing valuable shade to creatures and dragons alike. most ground is covered in vast seas of hardy grasses, broken up by occasional copses of native trees and bushes along the edge of the desert, with trees growing increasingly dense the further one travels from the desert, creating a vast, open woodland. for unexplained reasons ancient ruins are noticeably sparse in this region. most clans tend to be nomadic, often travelling between neighbouring regions for trade or following their herds of valuable lifestock.

common vegetation: stonewatch acacia, prickly pear, luminous almonds

coastal grasslands:

vast grassy plains found along the coastline of the sunbeam ruins, especially to the east and south. hot and arid most of the year, with the majority of the annual rainfall occuring within a few weeks in late winter/early spring. trees are rare, growing only in occasional small clusters in some areas, with grasses and low shrubs and bushes dominating the landscape. ruins jutting out of the ground are visible from far away, making them valuable landmarks guiding travellers through the region. many larger ruins are home to local clans. smaller ruins, some little more than a pile of bleached stone or a lone remaining wall, serve as travel shelters, with dragons passing through often leaving small amounts of resources behind in hidden corners for the next traveller, like stashes of dried foods or first aid equipment. the beacon of the radiant eye is located in the eastern coastal grasslands, rising high above the plains.

common vegetation: light’s breath, sunbeam rotala, golden milkweed

the hewn city:

a special biome all on its own. sunlight never truly reaches the hewn city, resulting in a landscape unlike anywhere else in the sunbeam ruins, or even the rest of sornieth. temperatures can vary noticeably, both over the course of a day and in different areas of the region. superficially, vegetation resembles that of the savannahs and grasslands, consisting of grasses, shrubs and occasional clusters of trees growing between the many ruins. on looking closer, one will notice that flora in the hewn city appears subtly different from related vegetation in others parts of the sunbeam ruins, often displaying unusually shaped leaves or strange colors and markings. similar changes appear in local animals. few clans make their home here, though travellers do pass through in an attempt to avoid the long east or west detours, and both scholars and treasure hunters occasionally delve into the ruins in search of knowledge or treasure.

common vegetation: dark creeper, subterranean clover, umbra parthenium

addendum:

naturally, biomes merge into each other along their borders, and vegetation uncommon for a biome can crop up in places that enable their growth, like trees growing in oases in the deep desert.

if you’re still reading down here... hi i love u ♥ hope you enjoyed this! if there are typos or funky grammar, english is not my native language sorry ^^