#which is not something i have ever seen or heard of except within my own brain

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

what's everyone's favorite ships (qpr or otherwise) regarding gravity falls, rain world, and/or hollow knight

i want to know because this is part of the surprise i have planned for june :]

[theorphicangel]

strangers. | Satoru x Suguru

wc: 1243

synopsis:

Satoru comes across a fellow classmate on his first day at jujutsu tech yet he somehow manages to make the wrong impression. Typical.

“Who are you?”

The resonant voice caused Satoru to stop in his tracks, interrupting his current observation of Tokyo Jujutsu High campus — his new home. 

Coming to Tokyo felt like a breath of fresh air, the keys to freedom finally placed in his hand. Of course, Satoru’s been independent for many years and left restricted to his own company but to finally be free from his clan breathing down his neck was all he ever wanted .

And he got it.

“Huh?”

Satoru turns to see a figure he’s never seen before. Tall, but not taller than him, with glossy black hair tied up into a bun. The rest fall past his shoulders, perfectly silky. First, Satoru’s eyes linger on the black ear piercings before falling upon the wavy bang which falls over his left eye where dark toffee coloured pupils stare right back at him. Despite being a warm toffee color,  the stranger’s gaze is awfully cold. 

“Who’re you?” the stranger repeats. 

Satoru notices he’s dressed in the same uniform, the exception being the bontan pants instead of the regular jujutsu tech edition. Despite the adjustment Satoru infers that he’s a student, possibly a first year like himself. 

The stranger keeps his hands within his pockets, continuing to study Satoru up and down. A light breeze passes over the two of them as they stand alone in the courtyard. Satoru’s own hair ruffles as does the stranger’s raven bangs. 

At first Satoru thinks it’s a trick question. ‘This guy has to be kidding me, right?’ he thinks.

There has never been a moment in Satoru Gojo’s life where nobody knew who he was. Ever since he was born it seemed that the whole world knew his name. People he had never even seen face to face had known his name, abilities and whereabouts. Before he stepped into the room he was already the topic of conversation, hell, just the mention of his family name and it all came together.

Yet, somehow — and whether it was by the neutral look in the stranger’s eyes or Satoru’s own overthinking — he could tell that the stranger standing in front of him was serious. 

“Gojo Satoru.”  The name slips out from his lips, smooth and confident. Satoru stands a little taller as his mind recalls the voice which spoke to him before leaving home. ‘You’re a pride to this family, remember that.’ 

 The stranger doesn’t even raise a brow, unphased. At this point Satoru expected the stranger’s eyes to widen in sudden recognition.

He expected the familiar words of  ‘This is the Gojo Satoru!?’ to stumble out of the stranger’s mouth in complete awe to immediately open up the gap. Satoru stood there, pathetically waiting for the sensation of surprise to appear on the stranger’s face but it never came. 

(There should be a gap opening up)

Maybe he didn’t speak clearly enough, the breeze too strong for the stranger to hear.

“Gojo?” He repeats after no response. “Y’know from the top three jujutsu clans in the country? The Gojo clan?”

“Mhmm.” The expression on his face is steady, simply neutral. “I’ve never heard that name before.”

Satoru’s face falls into a frown. Sure, at times he regretted the attachment of problems his name brought on but to have it disregarded like that felt so foreign to him it felt like suddenly he had teleported to an entirely different country.

The stranger picks up on Satoru’s expression.  “Am I supposed to know?” He asked. He rubbed the bridge of his nose before speaking again. “Speaking of…one of the teachers made a big deal about a certain student arriving this week. Is it you?”

Satoru scoffs before kicking his foot against the gravel, stones flying under his shoe. “How have you not heard of it? You live under a rock or something?”

“My parents are non-sorcerers, I don’t know much about the jujutsu world.”

Satoru raises a brow. He was almost on the opposite end of the scale. On one end, there stood a person who has been swallowed up by the world of jujutsu since birth and on the other end, there stood a person who had only been recently introduced.

He’d never met someone who was born to non-sorcerers, he didn’t even think that was possible. 

Until now. 

(There should be a gap opening up.)

Usually when Satoru met other sorcerers he felt a certain distance between them, a sort of gap to say the least.  He could describe it as a sort of sensation, a tingle within his body which separated himself from other people. Expectant, he waited for the familiar shiver to appear,  beginning at his fingers and reaching up to the top of his head. 

There should be a gap between him and this…stranger.

Neither of them said a single word. Another light September breeze passed by them, the rustle of greenery adding to the silence. Tall, brown oak trees and idle tweeting birds remained witness to this very moment as if they themselves were expectant of a sudden distance between the two beings. As if they were holding their breath to see the earth split open and crumble away, creating a physical gap between the two.

( But it never came. )

Satoru doesn’t move a limb, his eyes unwavering from the stranger’s waiting for a shiver. In tune with nature, he too holds his breath. 

Until the stranger breaks the silence.

“I don’t like you.”

The sentence which leaves his mouth is equivalent to a slap in the face for Satoru. Stupidly, he stands there, his mind unable to comprehend the words. 

“Huh?!”

“If you think I care about which famous clan you came from or how special you are then you should think again.” He scuffled his shoes against the gravel. “ I don’t think I like you very much and I wouldn’t want to be associated with you if you’re going to be an arrogant bastard.”

“Arrogant?” Satoru repeated. Where the hell did he get that from? They barely spoke for five minutes, hell, not even for two. Before Satoru could even ask for an elaboration the stranger had already turned his back on him.

“See you around, Gojo.”

There’s a certain unnatural tang which leaves the stranger’s mouth when saying his family name which leaves Satoru practically speechless. The sound of his footsteps on the gravel fades away as he disappears, his figure heading straight back to the dorms. 

Satoru fists are still clenched at his sides. 

Who was he to question his identity? Unlike Satoru, this guy seemed to be a complete nobody? He shouldn’t let him get to him. He was better than this.

But the petty side of him didn’t want to leave without having the last word.

“Well, I don’t like you either, whatever your name is!” The stranger doesn’t turn around, simply continuing to create a distance between him and Satoru. Mumbling to himself, his fists remain clenched.  “You’re the arrogant bastard for speaking to me like that.”

He didn’t care about him. The stranger didn’t even state his name. In fact, he’ll go the entire school year ignoring that guy.

As much as he tried to convince himself not to care, something stirred with Satoru, an itch perhaps, to go follow the stranger and find out more about him, like his name.

With clenched fists and a scowl drawn across his lips, Satoru follows after the stranger. 

Maybe this would be an interesting school year.

[bagopucks]

N. Hischier - It’s My Footwork

✄————————————

Nico Hischier x Fem!dancer!reader

Word Count: 4.1k -almost-

Warnings: none?

I apologize for any typos. There’s only so many times one can read through 4 thousand words before dying inside.

—————————————

Ever since I was two, I have loved music. I blame my mother. When I was four, I saw ballerinas for the first time. My mom took me to see the Nutcracker at our local theatre. I fell in love with music all over again, but more importantly, I fell in love with dance.

I’ve danced my whole life. Ballet and Acro had been my favorite classes, but I took others. It was expensive, but my family had no issue paying for it. I consider myself lucky to have had the opportunities I did growing up. Because of that gratefulness, it fueled my dream to become a dance instructor on my own one day.

I opened my studio in the heart of New Jersey. Business was slow at first, but I had classes open for all capable ages. I loved meeting the kids and even the adults who came in curious to learn or pick up a therapeutic hobby. I was never one to offer solo classes unless it was for a child who was new and needed to catch up with their age group. But I made one exception.

The bell to my studio rang, barely audible from the room I was in. I heard a deep voice speaking to my best friend who worked at the front desk. We met through her job application. Within the year she’d been hired, we got a sizable apartment together, and I’ve loved every second of our time spent with one another.

“She’s in the back. We just had a class end.“

I’ve had parents come in before about a late payment, or more commonly, bullying that I could only so much about. I assumed that’s all it was.

As I stepped out of the studio room and into the lobby, I was met with the face of a man I had never seen before. His sharp features, thick brows and dark hair was unrecognizable. If he had a daughter or son, they certainly took after their mother in appearance.

“Can I help you?” I spoke up, smiling at the man as I crossed the floor to meet him, leaning against the tall front desk.

“I was.. I need some help?” The man sounded confused, and his furrowed brow only solidified my theory. His eyes darted between my friend and I, as if waiting for one of us to offer something- though we didn’t know what that was.

“You wanna dance?” My friend piped up, a condescending tone in her voice. She dealt with men who were too prideful to admit what they were doing there before. She had no patience for them. This one though, seemed nothing like that. Especially when I watched his eyes go wide and a nod follow. He looked relieved.

“We have different types, was there something specific you were looking for?” I try to sound nicer than my friend.

“Something.. maybe- something with strength? Or endurance. And stamina?” His accent was thick compared to an American one, and the words he used made me wonder where he’d come from. He was either looking for something incredibly specific, or trying to sound smart.

“I have ballet. It’s difficult, but it’s good on muscles. It helps strengthen your legs. Can you do some paperwork for me?” The man nodded and I looked toward my friend. She quickly handed over a clip board and a pen, which I handed off to the man. He mumbled a polite, ‘thank you,’ and took a seat to fill it out.

I watched him for the fifteen minutes it took to fill out the pages. He wore a t-shirt of the city’s hockey team, something that I found normal considering we operated in the middle of the area. There were bound to be fans. My gaze studied his posture, but at some point it shifted to the way his dark hair fell and framed his face while he leaned over the paperwork. I smiled at the sight of batting eyelashes and the way his brow would knit together every so often at something he had to think of before answering. He was handsome.

Once he finished, the man brought the paperwork back and handed it over. I looked over the basic information before my gaze turned up to him. The man’s lips were pursed as he looked rather impatient. Or was he anxious?

“Okay, Nico. We have classes for your age group on Thursdays at five-“

“No!” His outburst caused both myself and my friend to look at him in shock. “I’m sorry- it’s just… it’s for personal reasons. I need this for work, and- I don’t work well with..” I watched his expression shift into one of embarrassment, and his hand wave in a dismissive way. “People.” A blatant lie.

“Uh huh,” I immediately slapped my friend’s shoulder when she piped up.

“Jessie, please.” I tried to calm her down, but she shook her head.

“It’ll only be for a few months.. I know I’m asking a strange thing, but it would help greatly.” I’ll blame it on his looks, and the desperation in his tone. I gave in to the man’s request with a reluctant nod. Who was I to ask what his job was? If he needed it that badly, I wouldn’t turn him down. I was helping somebody, I was sharing what I loved, and there was still money involved.

“Better put an extra ten bucks on his bill.” Jessie commented as she looked back to her computer. The man made no effort to argue, but I still let out an exasperated sigh.

“Jessie!”

——

We compromised on Sundays. Nico said those were most likely to be the days he would consistently have off. I still didn’t know what he did, but he told me his schedule was often sporadic. Jessie thought it funny to suggest adult films. Saying his reluctance to work with others was merely out of anxiety not to be noticed. I told her she was crazy.

Sundays were my least busiest days. I was at the studio alone for the first few hours before Jessie came in. By the time she was heading out for lunch, Nico was just stepping in. And I took note of the way he held the door for her. And the way she still wasn’t ready to give in to the idea that he might just be a good person. Nico had on a pair of black shorts, which I was thankful for considering we hadn’t discussed the dress code or what was best for ballet.

My expression nearly dropped when I realized the absolute shit show I was about to experience. Teaching a grown man ballet on my own. One who was tall, and decently built. I’d handled this type in classes before. They usually ended up needing six feet on every side so they wouldn’t hit or kick somebody. My gaze travelled to notice he was wearing a similar shirt to the one from the week before. This one was white with a tiny thirteen on one of the shirt sleeves. So he had a favorite player.

“Kick your shoes off and follow me.” I heard the light clutter of two shoes hitting the floor before Nico followed. “Are you flexible? At all?” I stepped into the studio, the man following behind before I pushed the door halfway closed. Safety was always a concern of mine. When working with kids, or working solo with random men. The door was never entirely shut.

“A bit?” Nico’s response left me at a loss. Guess we’ll find out.

“What do you like to listen to, Nico?” I made my way across the room to the small table against the wall. I grabbed my phone and looked back at him with expectant eyes.

“Swiss rap?” He was clearly testing the water, a nervous smirk upon his lips.

“Try again.”

“ABBA is fine.” I nodded, going to pull up an album full of ABBA’s greatest hits. ‘Does Your Mother Know’ came on over the few speakers in the room. When my gaze lifted to this man, I almost lost my composure. Tall, dark and handsome liked ABBA.

“Come on,” I managed a quiet giggle as I set my phone down. Nico met me in the middle of the floor. “We’re gonna stretch. That’s step one. Just do what I do.”

Nico struggled with understanding a few stretches, but each time I explained it a little slower, or helped him contort his body in whatever form it was supposed to be in. I heard a few ‘Jesus Christ’s’, but it only made me laugh. And each time I glanced at him in the mirror, it seemed my laughter fueled a bit of his own.

The few times I had to actually touch Nico, I relished in the firmness of his muscles, and the hilariously hopeless look in his eyes while he tried to understand what I was doing.

An hour passed before I felt like I had a good gauge of his flexibility. He was stretchier than I would have assumed, and it brought me some relief to know his body was at least flexible enough for ballet. The real question was, did he have grace and rhythm?

I spent the next hour explaining basics and getting Nico further out of his shell. When it came time to actually try a few things, I remained as patient and kind as humanly possible. Until I could no longer control myself.

“I don’t understand! You’re not making this easy!” Nico’s distressed but amused voice filled the studio along with my own laughter. I was hunched over with my hands on my knees, watching him through squinting eyes as he stood in the most awkward position I may have ever seen. He looked like a three year old. “Tell me again!”

I loved that no matter how many times he didn’t understand, Nico insisted to retry it. He liked the challenge. Over the few moves we did get down, I learned that he had a nice core strength and great control over his own body. And maybe a little bit of grace. After I came to terms with that, I threw adult film making completely out the window. He was in another business. I just didn’t know which one.

“I think maybe ballet is not for you.” I teased as I stood upright, making my way over to the amused but nonetheless frustrated man. “You’re so-“ I tried to put my finger on a word. “You move like a child.” And I knew why. Because he had no prior experience. Nico’s eyes went wide as his jaw dropped and his lips turned upward into a smile. 

“What is it? What specifically is it?” Nico insisted I tell him, but there were too many things to possibly name one.

“It’s my footwork?” The question was phrased as a statement, and I was quick to nod. He hit one of the many nails on the head.

“Well then what would you suggest instead? I need this to help with my footwork.” He dropped the hint, but I stored it in my mind for later.

“I don’t even know what to suggest. I guess we just try again.” I shrugged and smiled, incredulous. That’s what I did with the kids.

Try and try again, fail and fail a little less. Nico slowly began to catch on, though I relentlessly teased him when he failed. He took it like a true champ. I never noticed when Jessi came back from lunch, or that I had missed my own. Or that Nico had been there a lot longer than he was supposed to be. Until Jessi gave a gentle knock at the door and opened it to inform me of the well overdue departure of my new friend, or student.

——

It continued like that for weeks, Nico coming in on Sundays, greeting Jessie before she left for lunch, and joining me in the studio with a bright smile. As his visits came and went, I could tell Jessie was growing comfortable with him. And I could say the same for myself. Nico was so kind, and incredibly personable. I enjoyed not only the moments when he stumbled over a dance, but also the moments when we took breaks to sit and talk. Or when he needed help with a word or two. I learned he spoke German, and very good English, but when it came to the French of ballet, his accent did not do it justice. We often giggled over the way he pronounced things.

As the first month passed, I began to feel the dread of losing him. While also coming to terms with my feelings for him. Nico was just getting good. Good enough even that I could dance with him. But I remembered him saying it was only a few months. I still didn’t have a specific number, but I didn’t want to lose him. By the second month, I went into each Sunday with dread that he might not even show up. Or that he might randomly call and cancel.

This particular Sunday afternoon, I got a message saying that he had to miss out on our lesson for work. I told him it would be fine, that I’d miss him and we could reschedule. An hour later I got a text back saying, ‘you can come visit me at work?’ And another after, ‘Jessie can come too :)’ he knew how much I loved Jessie. He even enjoyed her snarky behavior from time to time.

I was given an address, and perhaps at that point I should have known where we were headed. But it hadn’t dawned on me until Jessie was flustered searching for a parking spot in the middle of traffic and crowds of people, that we were attending a hockey game.

“Fuck. Jess we don’t have tickets?” It was the first thing that crossed my mind. I didn’t think Nico was a player, or maybe he was. But the bottom line was that we weren’t getting in without tickets.

“He sent them to me.” My brow furrowed in confusion, peering at Jessie with a lost look until brow shot up in realization.

“You’re in on this?” I almost shouted, but I got no response as we pulled into a parking garage. “This is why I was supposed to dress nice? God- to a hockey game? Where there‘s beer and food everywhere?”

I wasn’t wearing anything particularly fancy. Only my favorite leather jacket and a pair of white jeans, matched up with a faded grey band shirt. My converses matched the black of my jacket, and my silver jewelry was the icing on the cake. Especially my rings, which I’d always loved.

“We have good seats. I think we’ll be fine.” Jessie’s nonchalance about the entire situation had me in disbelief from the moment we got out of the car, to the time we entered the arena. It was busy, full of life. I had no problem with crowds, but this was an entirely new situation. I was lost in more ways than one.

“We’re gonna miss warmups if you keep gawking.” The sound of people talking filled my ears, along with the shouted offers of men trying to sell alcohol. Kids excited and screaming.. some girl going on about a boy named Jack Hughes. I feel like I met a Jack once? With light brown hair and too much energy for my taste. And he had a drawl in his voice that caused his words to sound slurred or unfinished. God I hated it. But he was nice.

“Warmups?” I did not understand the concept, but I allowed Jessie to drag me through the stadium nonetheless. We found an usher who helped us to our seats, and with each step down the case that led us closer to the ice, I felt my stomach turning. The atmosphere was electric. It had me excited for a sport I knew nothing about. Once we got to our seats, I discovered they were right next to the tunnel one of the teams came out of. My body was buzzing, my hand absentmindedly gripping Jessie’s arm for dear life.

“Unhand me before I kick you,” Jessie threatened, prying my hand from her arm. At one point I looked up at the Jumbotron, realizing that whatever warmups were, they happened in fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes later, I heard people screaming and shouting, erupting into cheers and boos as the team that wasn’t ours, entered the ice. Soon the New Jersey team did follow. The Devils. And I began to second guess my theory that Nico was a player with each face I watched leave the tunnel. I noticed the Jack boy, comparable to a jack russel terrier from the way he bounced down the hall and onto the ice. Then the last body, clad in a red jersey, and those thick eyebrows, I noticed Nico. Holy shit… Captain Nico.

“Nico!” My voice erupted with pride as I shot out of my seat. That was my dancer. My Swiss weirdo who listened to ABBA and loved Meryl Streep. It seemed he recognized my voice, or maybe he was only looking to see we made it. His lips turned up into that smile I loved so much, and I reached forward to bang on the glass like everybody around me. I never liked sports, but I certainly had the aggression and thrill to be a fan. Me excitement made him laugh, extending his stick to tap the glass where I was before skating by.

Jessie had her head in her hands, trying not to be seen by literally anybody else.

“Jessie! This is- oh my god!” I had no words. Of course I had no words. And I was lost for them for the entire game. Aside from Nico’s name, incoherent screaming, and any word that fell from my lips when the refs made any call against the Devils. Which were usually profanities.

Nico had two assists through the game, and a goal in the third period. It was an empty netter, but I was prideful all the same. The goal horn erupted seconds later, signaling the end of the game. I jumped up like everyone else, and I watched him dig the puck out of the net. I wondered what Nico was up to until I saw him skate toward the boards on the other side of the ice. He flipped the puck off his stick and right over the boards. My heart melted as some kid snatched up the rubber object and smiled.

I loved sharing my craft with young generations. It seemed Nico did as well. People began to clear out, but I noticed a bulk staying. I didn’t know why until the lights dimmed and the three stars of the night were announced. The third was Jack. The second, the opposing team’s player. The first, Nico.

“What a brilliant game played by your team tonight. I’m sure you’re all buzzing with excitement?” The announcer sounded as jovial as the rest of the crowd, who had barely finished cheering for their captain by the time he began speaking.

“It was an amazing game. We played well.. remained on our feet.. we did good.” I could sense Nico’s determination from here. His pride in himself, but more importantly his team, radiated.

“Now, after you came back from your leg surgery, there were a lot of questions about your skating ability. Can you tell us how that affected your gameplay?”

“It was.. it was hard. I don’t like to listen to what people say. It’s not always great for your mentality. But- I worked hard and, I’d like to think I persevered.” He must be used to this.

“What did you do to fix that? Your first two games back, there was definitely some weakness in your left leg there. But now you look like a racehorse on the ice. How did you manage to change that?”

A smile formed on Nico’s lips. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I had somebody help me. She uhm.. she helped with my leg strength and balance and- all the edgework.”

Edgework. Footwork. That little shit. It was right under my nose the whole time! His shirts, his number- it sounded horrible, but even his nationality should have tipped me off. How many Swiss hockey fans did someone just randomly meet in New Jersey? Of all places.

“Did she get paid well for accommodating the captain of the New Jersey Devils?” The reporter asked with a playful grin.

“Yes, and an extra ten per hour.” Nico laughed.

“You really charged him that extra ten?” I whipped my head in Jessie’s direction. She was caught red handed.

“He wanted to!”

“She’s gonna get a kiss after this though.” I almost missed it. Trying to scold Jessie, I almost didn’t catch the comment Nico made. But I did catch it. And my head immediately whipped back to him on the ice. The reporter was in the midst of congratulating him one last time on his game before Nico walked off down the tunnel.

“Jessie-“ my best friend was already laughing, swatting at my leg from where she was seated. “What do we do? We should leave.” She shook her head at me.

I wasn’t running from Nico, I was just nervous. “I should go to the bathroom..” she nodded at me, allowing me to run off up the endless flights of steps and navigate my way through the crowd to find the bathroom. I checked my makeup in the mirror, my legs feeling like jelly at the disbelief of what was to come. I had to have heard him wrong. I adjusted my shirt eighty times, and even thought about leaving before ultimately deciding I could not steal Jessie’s car. I wanted to kiss him. Of course I did. It’s all I wanted.

When I got back from the bathroom, most everybody was gone, and Jessie was still seated in her place, feet up against the glass with her arms across her chest. When I returned to her side, she smiled at me.

“Hold my phone while I go to the bathroom?” I nodded, taking her phone from her and slipping it into the pocket of my leather jacket before zipping it up.

Jessie was gone in a flash, and I was left staring out at the ice, bouncing from one foot to another before I heard my name. I turned quickly, looking at the figure practically sprinting down the steps.

We both had the same thing in mind. I heard Nico’s comment, and he had that piercing determined look in his eyes. By the time he reached me, he was holding his arms out- possibly for a hug. That’s not what I wanted though.

“Can I-“

I gave him all the permission he needed by crashing our lips together. Nico tasted like cocoa pebbles, and I had to pull away to mumble something about the sweetness before he giggled and reconnected our lips. His hands held my cheeks, and mine his hips. By the time we pulled away again, we were both heaving for air. Nico more so than myself considering the marathon he ran down the steps to get to me.

“I had a snack during the second intermission.” It was like he could read my mind, answering my unspoken question while our foreheads pressed together. We smiled and laughed.

“Of course you did,” I responded softly, pulling back to shake my head at him.

Nico giggled with a nod. “Are you hungry? I could use a date to my celebration tonight.”

“Yeah.. but I’m gonna need some explanation on all this.” I gestured back to the rink, earning a laugh from him.

“Anything you want to know.”

Nico and I made our way back up the steps together, meeting Jessie at the top where she had been waiting for us.

“So.. she’s yours for the night?” Jessie asked, earning a fist bump from Nico. My brow furrowed in concern that this entire plan went over my head.

“I’ll have her back by twelve.” Nico promised as he snaked an arm around my hip. I melted into his side.

“Eleven, Romeo. Or I’ll track you down on snap map and fist fight you in a fancy restaurant.”

Nico mumbled a quiet, ‘oh boy’ before nodding.

We were not back by ‘curfew.’ Hell I never even went home, but I shot Jessie a message when Nico let me into his own place, informing her that I was safe and Nico would keep me company for the night. She sent me back an emoji with a hand over the mouth. Then one saying, ‘updating Facebook status to Aunt.’

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

[crusherthedoctor]

Sonic Stellar - Prologue, Part I

Prologue: A New Genesis

Three months later...

The late morning was silent, a portrait of complete tranquility. Like a perfect summer, but without the sweat to match. There were no clouds in this sky, no waves on this ocean, no strife on this day. The faint ripples of the sea were all that could be heard nearby.

...is what would be said, were it not for the giant purple aircraft soaring erratically overhead, flying left and right almost as much as it flew straight ahead.

"WHOOOO! Ha-haaa!"

The vessel in question, the SS Tornado EX, performed at an absurd speed for its size, and that wasn't all it had up its sleeve, as shown by the beeline it made towards the ocean below... only to then raise back up at the last second, completely unharmed, and impressively undrenched. About the only absent trick was a full-on barrel roll, as the lack of seatbelts would have presented a problem. Otherwise, nothing was beneath it.

Fortunately for the sealife, this was no reckless flyer... not too reckless, anyway. This glorious machine had seen its day before, and its pilots even moreso. In a change of pace however, it was the older member of the two who had found himself at the driver's helm. As it had been a while, his friend graciously offered him the role. He knew the risks full well, but he trusted him with his life.

After all, who wouldn't trust Sonic the Hedgehog?

"Having fun?" Tails wryly commented, not even shifting his gaze from the brochure he was reading. Despite his young age, he had experienced more than quite a lot of adults. Sonic flying in his own, unique way was like a Tuesday to him.

"You know it!" Sonic confirmed, with a characteristically wide grin. His bliss was downright enviable. "Haven't lost my touch!"

"I never said you did," his friend lightly chuckled.

As the Tornado EX continued its display of aerodynamic showmanship, something caught the corner of the fox's eye. He didn't put his brochure down, but he did glance to his right at the water below. It was shimmering marvellously, which would not be considered an irregularity on its own, but...

"Hey, does the sea look different to you?" Tails asked his partner. The entire time during their journey, it had remained pure blue, as one would expect, yet all of a sudden, the ocean had quietly turned a faint teal, as though it had always been that way. It couldn't have been the conditions either, since the weather hadn't changed at all...

"Huh, it kinda does," Sonic mused, which was followed up with a knowing smirk. "Must be cause we're getting closer! In fact..."

He paused, with a brief squint of the eyes... then nodded eagerly. "Yeah, that's it! That's the one!" He couldn't resist a fist pump. "We made it!"

As they flew closer to their intended destination, its true scope became quickly apparent, which got an impressed whistle out of the hedgehog, and silent awe from the fox. Without question, it was the largest island they had ever seen in their lives. Perhaps it was just as well that this one did not float in the air. Its perimeter, at least what little of it they could see from their direction, was near-completely circular, as though it had been precisely and carefully carved that way, and although no one appeared to be setting off any fireworks, a glowing phenomena seemed to radiate from within.

Viridonia was a more than worthy fit for their chosen vacation. To Sonic, the great thing about the world was that no matter how much of it he had seen in his travels, there was always bound to be something else further beyond. He wouldn't have it any other way.

With a simple push of a button, the Tornado EX slowly, yet rather ostentatiously, folded its wings as the aircraft hit the water for real. With the exception of a single sharp bump, the landing was respectable, much to the internal relief of Tails. As it made its way further towards a visible docking bay, the young heroes both knew they were in for the time of their lives.

In what way, however...

---

After he and Tails double checked that they tied down their ship in a way that wasn't amateur, Sonic turned around and got a first proper, in-depth look at his surrounding. The chalk white sand almost took up his attention all on its own, as did the black railings with their distinguished floral-themed patterns, but the town itself was simply too enticing to ignore.

Lime Shores could be described as walking into another world. Not the past, not the future, but one entirely of its own. It wasn't the largest town Sonic had ever seen, but it didn't need to be in order to make its first impression count. Every building that he could see, though they had a wide selection of colours for roofs, were otherwise a sleepy light blue from top to bottom. The formations that marked the cobblestone ground were a delicate selection of pastel pinks, light turquoises, hazy purples, and sea greens, among others. Shops and stands had been set up that sold all manners of pottery, jewelry, and other bits of pleasure to the senses that didn't match what he had seen anywhere else. It was like stepping into a book, and he would know, since he's done that before.

And throughout all of this, the residents carried on with their day as though it were any other. Animals and humans alike could be seen left and right, which - not counting the hedgehog's own presence in human-populated cities - was not a sight he was used to seeing. Their choice of fashion was equally as varied across the board, each of them with their own untold story. Some of them even looked in Sonic's direction ever so briefly, then carried right along as though he were a regular guy. Not that it particularly mattered to him if they recognized him, since that was never what he was about.

With his hands on his hips, his eyes stayed put on the scene, content with what he saw. As Tails walked up the small flight of steps to join him, the hedgehog could barely hide the joy on his face. He could feel his heart pumping in anticipation of this new venture.

"This is gonna be sweet," he let out with a smile. The sense of wonder found on the fox's face confirmed he was unambiguously feeling it too. "All this for the two of us."

"~Sonic!~"

The smile remained perfectly still on his face. "Oh."

Sonic and Tails turned to their right in unison, as if they didn't already know who it could be, to find none other than Amy Rose, who was currently sprinting over to them in only the way that she could. Her trusted friend, Cream, was tagging along right behind her, as was Cheese the Chao. It would seem that they decided to go for a vacation of their own... right here, of all places. A mere coincidence, right?

"Fancy seeing you here!" Amy beamed, with one hand on her hip, and a finger on her chin. "You didn't tell us you guys were coming here too!"

"Well, uh..." Sonic turned to Tails for a brief moment, to which his orange pal merely shrugged. "I mean, you didn't tell us either... Not that I can blame you for stopping by, cause look at all this!"

"It's so pretty, Mr. Sonic," Cream simply said, with that innocent smile on her face, and her hands clasped.

"Chao!" Cheese gladly agreed.

"As soon as we heard about this place, I knew we HAD to go," Amy explained, as her tail predictably swished to and fro at the sight of her hero. She took another look at the glowing buildings. "It's the perfect little spot... or big spot... and it even kinda has a romantic touch to it-"

Before finishing, she noticed Sonic wordlessly raising an eyebrow, as if he knew exactly what was coming. Sensing this, Amy abruptly cleared her throat.

"Well, anyway, it's great that we're all here," she laughed. "I don't suppose you were planning on doing anything before we turned up?"

"We were just sort of looking around for now," Tails answered, scratching his head awkwardly. "We just got here after all, so we don't know where everything is yet."

"Oh, we only arrived a couple of hours ago, so we're getting used to it too!" The pink hedgehog mischievously smirked at Sonic. "Wanna do it together?"

Sonic took one look at her, and jokingly sighed, complete with rolling his eyes as dramatically as possible. "I GUESS there's no harm," he muttered, though he couldn't help but smirk in turn at his bubbly friend's not-too-subtle determination. "Too bad Knuckles couldn't attend, I think this could have been up his street... or maybe all the blue would have reminded him too much of me."

As the blue hedgehog and his two-tailed partner began to examine the stands in person, for a closer look at what they had to offer, Amy was all too ready to join them. However, upon looking back, she soon stopped in her tracks as she noticed the mild expression of guilt on Cream's face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked out of concern, and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Missing home already?"

The bunny grabbed her left ear out of shame. "I know it's silly of me, because we've been to so many places before... but this is the first time in a while, so I think I might need to get used to it again..."

"Y'know, there's nothing shameful about that," Amy rubbed her shoulder sympathetically. "Tell you what, why don't you have a look around of your own and in your own time, then you can meet back up with the rest of us?"

After mulling it over, and checking for Cheese's input, Cream nodded gently. "That sounds good... but I won't go too far away," she clarified, before the two of them shared a giggle together.

---

"Maybe we could find something for mother," Cream pondered out loud, with some increased elation. "Or maybe a picture would be nice?"

"Chao!" Cheese nodded enthusiastically.

As promised, Cream made sure to not stray too far from her friends. She had been in unfamiliar territory before, and had gotten herself out, but those had a particular urgency to them. To do so on what was meant to be a calming vacation would be the opposite of ideal. As she made her trek, taking mental notes of where certain passing sights were so as to remember them for later, she found herself looking down at the colorful cobblestone more than once. Not without reason.

She hadn't noticed it previously, but now that she was this close, it almost looked… translucent? Maybe that wasn't the right word, it wasn't as though she could see right through it, but despite being a simple stone walkway, it was as though some kind of energy had been quietly streaming right through it, bringing its soft flavors to life.

And now that she thought more about it, the buildings from earlier had a similar thing going on. The more she thought back to them, their colour also looked less like an ordinary coat of paint… Was she imagining things, or was this really how they were? Was there something more to them...?

Before the bunny could give it additional thought, she looked up once more, and found that she was actually in a secluded woodland area now. She wasn't that far deep into it, she could still see the familiar shore from a certain distance behind her, but she immediately took to it. The trees and bushes, of which there were plenty, provided a bountiful mix of dark greens and oranges for their leaves, and inbetween was a modest field of flowers. Some of the flowers in question were similarly orange, while others were either red or yellow.

"Ohhh!" Cream eagerly ran over to them, and kneeled down for a closer look. It was a mystery how she didn't scrape her knees in the process. "They're so beautiful, aren't they? Maybe we could give one for mother, or for Amy! ...Although... what if someone owns them? They might not like us picking them, huh?"

"Chao..." Cheese astutely commiserated.

Regardless of that possibility, it was still a joy for the two of them. She pointed at this flower, that flower, that flower over there, and more or less every other flower. She was certainly caught up in all this, and she had every right to be... even if it made her a target for Metal Sonic.

From a small distance, behind one tree of many, the robot watched the bunny having her fun. Its limbs lowered for a moment, as though it had been taken off guard... as though it had been doing something else before noticing her. Perhaps it did not expect more of the hedgehog's friends to appear on this island. Perhaps it remembered her as one of the culprits that got in its way that one time. Whatever the case, it wouldn't remain an issue for long. An enemy to Eggman is an enemy to Metal Sonic. And there's only one option for pest control.

With the element of surprise, it could have swiped her in a second, before she would have time to realise what had even happened. It knew that. It was more than capable. To witness the look of fear, though... that's a special pleasure. One that would not be sacrificed.

Metal stepped forward, with an alarming absence of sound for such a machine, and slowly closed in on the unassuming duo. As they continued to point out whichever flowers that had tickled their fancy, its left hand scraped its claws against its palm, as if it were hungry, starving, to use those claws on anyone, or anything. As a look of uneasiness suddenly appeared on Cream's face, as though sensing something was amiss, Metal swiftly raised its left claw, waiting sadistically for the moment she turned her head.

*THWIP*

It would not get the desired craving.

Metal jolted, and turned to its left, in a way that heavily suggested something else had distracted it. Yet, there appeared to be no one else in the vicinity. Before Metal could regain its focus, Cream had finally turned, and suffice to say, she was immediately filled with shock. Despite this, she took to a fighting stance rather quickly for her age, with Cheese going as far as to put up his dukes, yet the fright remained present on both of their faces. As Metal took notice of this, it tilted its head, and silently nodded. It was prepared to deal with this silly girl in the old fashioned way. It stretched out its claws, ready for a battle if necessary-

*THWIP*

Metal jolted once again, as though it had dodged something, even though neither Cream or Cheese had laid a hand on it. It looked at her again, and although no emotion could be registered from its permanent glare, something seemed to tick in its head. With a mocking wave, it flew away violently, leaving as quickly as it had arrived. The rabbit looked up in the sky at where the evil doppelganger had vanished, and she couldn't help but be a teensy bit baffled at the whole experience.

"M-...Metal Sonic?" She paused to check her heartbeat. "What was he doing here? Why did he attack us? Is he doing something for Doctor Eggman?"

As soon as she mentioned the scientist, she gasped, and clasped both of her ears at the mere thought of him. "Oh no! Could the doctor be up to bad things again? In this pretty place? We've got to tell our friends about this!"

"Chao! Chao!"

"Huh?"

Cheese lightly tugged on her ear to get her attention, and pointed at one of the trees from nearby. At first, she couldn't tell what she was meant to be looking at, but upon inching closer, it soon became apparent. There was something there that hadn't been there when they had entered. Namely, a pair of arrows, both of them stuck on the same tree.

With a raised eyebrow, she slowly placed her hand on the lower arrow that was stuck, and gently took it off, taking care not to break the arrow outright. As she examined it, the craftmanship stood out to her: not that she would claim to be an expert on that sort of thing, but it was clear even to the casual perspective that this was no simple job. It was finely put together, and the handle even had a specific pattern carved on it, consisting of swirls in one direction or the other. Now, as for who could have made these...

"Are you okay?"

"Ahh!"

Cream did a little jump upon being startled by the sudden voice that came from a very close proximity. As if being startled once wasn't enough. Though this one had a voice... and that voice was distinctly feminine. Seeking out the source, she turned her head to the left, only to find nothing. She turned her head to the right... and was greeted with a thick pair of blue boots that stood tall and reached up to the person's knees. The heels of which were firmly flat, and behind them was the lower half of what seemed to be a tail as green as mint, and smooth as silk. The kind of tail that you'd expect from a horse. Taking a moment, Cream slowly glanced her way upwards.

Where the boots ended - which took a while, as their legs were quite long from her perspective - a pair of brown breeches began, and as she got to see the rest of the person's tail, she could confirm that it was indeed that of a horse. Covering their chest was a breezy tank top, with the same shade of blue as her boots, and their arms were covered by a pair of icy blue gloves that reached just above the elbows, one of which was holding onto a maroon bow... which, as it happened, featured a remarkably similar spiral pattern to the arrows on the tree. The figure itself had a youthful, yet mature build, and her fur was as gentle green as her tail.

Finally, the rabbit looked up at the head, but much of the lady's face was obscured by a bandana from the bottom, and a headscarf from the top, both of which were colored... well, surely you can guess. Poking out between them were a pair of warm brown eyes, and some of her bangs. Two arched ears poked out of the headscarf, along with a ponytail as large as her head that reached down to the upper half of her body. Amusingly, its shape strongly resembled that of her actual tail. After completing the analysis, Cream looked at the bow again, and immediately put two and two together... but not before realising she had remained quiet for a little too long.

"Y...yes, miss," she stuttered. "Thank you..." She really wasn't used to being crept on, let alone twice on the same day. She briefly wondered if this was how Blaze felt, before she soon remembered the arrow in her hand. Without another word, she raised the arrow in the woman's direction, as if to hand it over to her. She wasn't sure what to make of this person, and not just because she couldn't see much of her face, meaning she could only really look into their eyes.

Then again, they did just come to her defense, didn't they? And those eyes were as far from Metal Sonic's as you could get. They were calm... tender...

"And thank you," the lady said, as she blinked with a tiny nod. She took the arrow from the young girl's hand, and casually placed it back into her pocket that, by all accounts, should not be able to fit an arrow. She followed this up by gently pulling the second arrow from the tree herself, and placed that one in the same pocket. "Pardon me for causing a fright, but I couldn't let that incident go undisturbed."

"I'm... sorry about that," Cream shuffled her foot, still awkward in this unplanned for presence. Admittedly, she was also slightly weirded out by the unexpected maturity of the person's voice, despite them appearing to be not that much older then her friends. "I was silly, I should have noticed him-"

"What?" The horse glanced in her direction, and slowly kneeled down to her level. "My dear, what on earth do you have to be sorry for? That dirty bucket of garbage got the drop on you, it was hardly your fault." She gave a playful wink. "Besides, I'm sure you would have kicked his butt. You've done it before."

Cream couldn't help but giggle at that. And despite how it may have sounded to a more cynical individual, this was not hot air she was spewing just to make her feel better. It was obvious from the tone in the older person's voice that she fully believed what she was saying. And yet, what reason would she have to believe such a thing? Unless...

"You... know who I am?" the rabbit asked.

"Chao?" Cheese boldly questioned.

"Why, of course I do," the lady answered, with the faintest hint of a chuckle behind her bandana, as she rested her hands on her knee. "You and your friends are quite the celebrities, are you not?"

Before she could respond, Cream took another look at the eyes. The longer she looked at them, the more she noticed something else about them. For reasons unknown, they did not have the common white sclera. Instead, they were a very mild, light blue. You were not likely to notice it from far away, but up close was a different story. It was peculiar, and irregular, but not threatening... she found it kind of pretty, in a way.

"I don't really know about that," Cream bashfully scratched behind her head. "I know Mr. Sonic saves the world a lot, but I don't think anyone from around here recognizes him that well. Or maybe they don't care, it was kinda hard to tell..."

The woman paused at this. Her gaze turned downward for a single moment, before looking back up at the girl's own. After an additional moment of silence, her left glove slowly reached up to her bandana, and - with what seemed to be a short burst of hesitance - softly pulled it down, revealing the rest of her face at last. The first thing Cream noticed was how round and soft her muzzle was, with two slits that formed her nostrils. The second thing she noticed was how... pale it was.

"Well, if it means anything, you've got one fan over here," she stated fondly. Now that her face was revealed, the rabbit could appreciate the comforting little smile on her face. "Rest assured, I know who Sonic is. I know who you all are."

"You know all about our adventures?"

"Mm-hm," she confirmed, slightly sheepishly. "Not literally everything, but... generally, to put it lightly."

Cream looked at Cheese, who responded by nodding, indicating that the lady was fair enough in his book. As if by swift activation, a wave of excitement quickly filled the rabbit's expression, as an idea formed in her head.

"Would you like to meet Mr. Sonic?" she politely, yet unhesitantly asked.

The woman froze, apparently having not expected this offer in the slightest. She had merely intended to look out for her after Metal Sonic's attack, and was grateful enough to be speaking with her, now all of a sudden... what?

"I..." She took a moment to process that this was, in fact, reality. That she was not dreaming. That she was offered, out of nowhere, to meet Sonic the Hedgehog.

"...Well... if it wouldn't be a burden for him..."

"It won't, I promise!" Cream grinned cheerfully, and wasted no time in grabbing the equine's hand. "He makes new friends all the time! I'm sure he'll like you, Miss... Miss..."

"Lutrudis," the horse clarified, smiling once again. "Lutrudis Hadeer, to be precise. And please, there's no need for the title. Being with you is the real honor."

"Hee hee, that's such a lovely name!" Cream clapped her hands at the thought of it. "Don't you think so, Cheese?"

"Chao Chao!" Cheese cleverly pretended to know the meaning of it.

"Heh, well," Lutrudis started, as she tried her best not to be overwhelmed by the praise. "I suppose we ought to let them know as well that a certain Metal Rotter is on the loose, hmm?"

"Yes, of course!"

As Lutrudis got off the ground, and switched to standing upright once more, Cream's excitement temporarily halted as she noticed the look of exhaustion on her face, as though this simple act took a lot out of her. Before she could ask about it, the horse lightly fluttered her hand, as if to preemptively dismiss any concern.

"Phew," she muttered, and rubbed the side of her chest. "My apologies, I'm... not the fastest on my feet. Between you and me, my endurance has always stunk quite offensively. Far from Sonic's level, I'm sure."

Cream put her hands to her mouth, and nodded with full understanding. "Oh, I see. Sorry, Miss Hade-" She took a moment to catch herself, then let out a proud giggle. "Lutrudis."

The horse said nothing. Her smile was all that needed to be said.

---

Back to Intro...

To Prologue, Part II...

[marilynthornhilllover]

I promise I'll look for you in a thousand life times.

Olivia crain x Fem!Reader

Warning: fluff, depression, anxiety, headaches, delusional, pills, sleep deprivation, sleep talking, nightmares, fainting, slight argument, sleep talking, pre kidnapping, almost suicide,etc.

A/N: all my THOHH fans tap in please, justice for our liv🥺. Btw this fic is a spoiler for anyone who hasn't watched the show yet, and most of this fic falls around episodes 1,4,6,8,9 and 10.

The crain family was.... different..... they weren't like other families and they knew that too. They weren't the normal family you'd meet on a daily basis. When you started working for the crain family as a babysitter, you heard many stories about the family.

How the claimed to see things. That Olivia was a witch. That the family believed in a whole lot of creepy stuff and even acted weird. That didn't bother you though.... why should it?... no one's normal, absolutely no one, no matter how hard they tried.

So what if the crain family acted a certain way, or maybe they just had special gifts that weren't quite understood by others.... and that's fine.

You met with the family for dinner three years ago, you met Nelly or rather Eleanor, theo or Theodora, Luke, steven and Shirley. They were decent kids. Kind, sweet, caring, funny even.

Something you admired about the kids were their passions. Eleanor tea cup parties, Shirley nature and taking photos, Luke adventuring or protecting Nelly. And then there were theodora and Steven who were always off doing their own things or studying something fascinating.

____

Then there was Olivia crain, Olivia was something else.... her aura was soft. She was pretty and smart and very caring and kind towards you. She loved her kids with everything in her.... her heart clung to them. She even said once that nothing or no one will ever be able to stop her from even dying for them.

The floor boards creaked as you made your way into the kitchen for breakfast. Slowing rubbing your eyes as the sun glazed partially through them from the sunset window above. You turned the corner one eye open, suddenly you bumped into someone. You stopped dead in your tracks and opened your eyes fully to see Mr. Hugh walking away quickly with a cup of coffee in his hands.

" good morning Mr. Hugh-" but before you could completely finish your sentence he was already gone from your sight. It's only then as you stood there you felt how cold the atmosphere setting was... as if someone had died.

You had only caught a glimpse of his face and something deep within told you that something was wrong this morning. You thought nothing of it and looked at everyone in the kitchen having breakfast.... except not happily.

" good morning, my loves" you spoke walking around the table to kiss every child on the forehead. There were mumbled and grumbles said back to you as you made your way into the pantry. You then noticed that you haven't seen Olivia. Which was quite strange since she's usually the first one up to help you a little bit with the kids.

You clicked the kettle and stood with your back against the counter as you waited for your water to get hot. You inspected the kids once again and something gaved you the chills. You sighed as your eyes landed on Nellie who was finding it hard to eat her scrambled eggs since they were very hot. You walked over to her and crouched down on your knees.

You tucked a strand of hair behind her hair and brushed down her fly aways. She smiled at you and you returned it.

" did you sleep well?" You asked her and she nodded chewing on another piece of her food. The real reason why you weren't the one to make the kids breakfast was because you were up the entire night with Nellie. Her nightmares are the worst. She claims she sees this lady that she calls " the bent neck lady" above her every time she opens her eyes at night.

The poor girl was scared completely out of her shadow last night, shaking and shivering in your arms, sobbing even. You sang her a little song and caressed her cheeks and brushed your fingers through her hair until she eventually had the courage to fall asleep and believe that you'd protect her.

You had told her parents above it, Olivia more times than Hugh since she's less busy and has more time to listen, and after all she was Nellie's mother but they both brushed it off as Nellie being at the age where she could handle herself.

Which is true, she was a big girl but she was still even scared of the dark, which is normal for a kid but Nellie was absolutely terrified at night, and that isn't normal. And then you had to sit at Shirley's bedside and hold her hand because she was sleep talking. Ever since the family moved to the hill house they've all been acting strange. Seeing things. Hearing things. Feeling them even. Mostly Olivia. She was the one you'd feared for more. Even more than Nellie.

" but mommy and daddy fought this morning and yelled" your brows quirked as your body stiffened. Hugh and Olivia..... fight?.... yell?.... again not normal. You tried not to make it too obvious to the little girl that you were surprised but instead tried to comfort her.

" Nellie! Don't tell her that!" Theodora shouted and Steven spiked back.

" theo don't talk to her like that! She's been with us longer than the others!" he spoke.

" so?! that doesn't mean she gets to know all of our business" theodora bit back as she stormed out, Steven quickly following behind.

" no but she's seen and heard us more than anyone has!" His voice got lower as they went deeper into the house where you could no longer hear them speak. You paid no mind to her though, she was always the feisty one, which was something you admired.

You stood there silently before Luke and Shirley placed their plates into the sink before walking past you shyly. You looked down at Nellie, searching her eyes for an silent answer.

" daddy wants mommy to go to her sisters house for the weekend because he thinks she's crazy" the little girl whispered before getting up from her seat and hugging you with tears in her eyes. You comforted her the best you could, rubbing her back and whipping her tear stained cheeks.

" it's ok Nel, I'll talk to your mom and dad ok?" She nodded and quickly exited the room, you stood there for a minute trying to process everything before you sighed deeply. You cared for Olivia and her wellbeing, especially for her mental state as of now. Olivia wasn't well. It's as the house was a vampire, sucking and draining every bit of happiness from her, plus the kids not being able to be comfortable in the house bothered her even more.

You noticed Olivia's pills in the kitchen counter cabinet, you walked towards the cabinet and took out the bottles, the one for her headaches, depression and anxiety. You walked back up the stairs and down the hallway into Olivia's and Hugh's bedroom. You weren't allowed in there but you needed to speak to Olivia urgently.

You knocked twice and waited for her to answer but there was complete silence, no approaching footsteps, no body shifting in sign of answering the door, nothing. Dead and spine chilling silence. As if there was no one at all in the room. You decided to twist the knob to see if it was unlocked, after discovering so you pushed the door and entered.

You then saw Olivia standing infront of the window in a beautiful red dress with flower patterns on it, her hair neatly tucked in her curls not a songle one out of place. What she was looking at remained unknown. You stepped further into the room and closed the door behind yourself. You waited for her to acknowledge your presence but it seems as if she never heard you enter at all.

You walked up even closer to her and noticed that her pupils were dilated all the way and there was only a thin line of crystal blue could be seen. Absolutely no sign of life in them.

" Olivia?" You called out her name softly, not wanting to snatch her from whatever mental state she was in too quickly to make it become prolonged. She slowly turned her head into your direction and smiled softly before her head snapped back to the window fast as if she was a cat haunting it's prey.

" do.... do you hear that?" She asked as she took slow steps closer towards the window.

" hear what?" You replied. At this point you were beyond worried for Olivia, she needed help, maybe Hugh's idea wasn't as bad after all.

" the whispers" she spoke up, before you can ask what whispers she shushed you by placing a finger onto your lip, tilting her head to the side as she listened again.

" there it is again.... they're calling Nellie's name..." her facial expression was unreadable, you couldn't tell if she was being serious or if the voices have really gotten the best of her. Tears filled her eyes as she leaned on your shoulder clinging to your shirt tightly with her fists.

" don't let them take her away please!" You held onto her tightly, gently letting both your body's fall to the ground. You brushed the hair away from her face and realized that her eyes were closed. She fainted..... you muttered ' shit ' before you lifted her body off the floor and placed her onto the bed.

Suddenly she gasped loudly as if she had drowned and had now been given CPR. You grabbed the back of her head and quickly sat her up against the head board. She sighed before softly started chuckling. She turned her head towards you and smiled. She raised her hand to your cheek and carefully caressed your skin.

" are you scared? Your pale" she chuckled biting her lip. You playfully touched her arm but you quickly had to pull it back. Olivia was as cold as ice, as if she wasn't alive. You decided to keep quite, she already has enough stress as we speak but she needed to know the truth.

" I think that you should atleast re think Hugh's offer, we only want wants best for you liv" you spoke clearly without a doubt In mind. Olivia's facial expression changed drastically as she looked at you as if she was totally flabbergasted.

" you believe him.... you think I'm crazy? You think that theses pills are what's allowing me to keep my sanity?" Her voice was hoarse and full of hurt.

" no! Of course not Olivia! But I want you to be able to be sane and think for yourself without the pills" she cut across you, stopping your sentence.

" but I am! Don't you believe me?!" She was getting railed up and that's the last thing you wanted to happen because it often doesn't end well.

" I do! But your not well Olivia can't you see?!" She paused, her eyes flickered as a tear rolled down her cheek. Her hand that was rested upon your thigh shook and you both looked down at the same time to look at it and she immediately looked away.

" I only want what's best for you Olivia. So please just for two days, get some fresh air, go to an amusement park or go on a nature walk" you spoke, gently caressing her thigh.

" i won't let them take Nellie away from me, not my baby" she spoke softly, leaning closer towards you.

" no one is gonna hurt them I'm right here, I promise" you whispered back, she kissed your cheek and rested her head on your chest before sighing. You both stayed like that for a while before she spoke up again.

" I wanna wake up... so badly.... why can't I just wake up...." She kept repeating this phrase over and over again and you could see the color draining from her eye. She's going to get a headaches. You quickly grabbed her compression pillow, her eye cover fabric along with her pills. You calmed her body by placing a hand on her abdomen then pushing the pillow behind her neck then placing the fabric over her eyes.

You tapped on her lips and she open her mouth to take in the pills, you brought the glass of water to her lips and held a hand under her mouth as she drank the water. She coughed slightly before turning her head away. You put down the cup and sat back down besides her. Eventually you fell asleep, this sudden tiredness washed over you as you fell into deep slumber.

You awoken in your room that the Crain's had provided for you in the house. There were thuds and loud bangs along with screaming being heard from the upstairs. You rushed up thinking someone may have broken in. Running upstairs that's when the sound of glass breaking and Olivia's screams can be heard.

" olivia!?" You call out as you ran down the hallway, you ran and ran until you felt as if you were out of breath, no matter how much you ran the hallway seemed to become longer. You could hear running footsteps everywhere.

" stop trying to take my babies away from me!" You heard Olivia scream in agony. Who's taking the kids? You tried to follow her voice as best as you could. All you heard and could hear was your thudding footsteps against the hardest of the wood and your racing heart beat.

A hand grabbed you by the waist and forced you to stop, you turned around to see Hugh, he had both Nellie and Luke lifted up in his hands both of them staring at you petrified.

" y/n we have to go now" you looked at him completely confused.

" no time for questions, the other kids are already outside in the car" you shook you head and stepped back. In the car? What about Olivia..... is Hugh the one who's taking her babies away?... before he can grab your hand again you bolted away from him with full speed. You called out Olivia's name but there was no answer, only that dead silent of the time when you entered her room. Remember the dead look in her eyes and ran faster.

You looked everywhere for her before searching upon the balcony. And there she was..... in her night gown about to leap off the edge. You swiftly grabbed her hips right before she could but it was too late.... you both went over. Falling in slow motion graciously. You could feel Olivia's fear, not of dying but leaving her children alone. Leaving Nellie and Luke out in the dark as they said. All your memories in life flashed before your eyes but the only person on your mind was Olivia.

Right before your body could hit ground you pulled her onto you. Your body hit the ground with a loud brutal thud. Your ears began to rang as you heard Olivia call out your name and touch your face, her hands still very cold. She grabbed the back of your head and placed it on her lap as she ran her fingers through your hair sobbing.

You smiled softly up at her, stretching your weak hand up to caress her cheek.

" why are you crying my love?" You asked and she sniffed.

" why didn't you go on without me?"

" how could I? " you asked, and she began to cry more and your eyes fought to stay open. You knew you were dying but you needed five more minutes for your last words. Olivia cradled your body as close as possible to hers.

" I couldn't let you die alone liv" you whispered as you slowly felt all your organs shut down one by one. Her eyes filled with more tears, clinging onto your shirt she whispered no over and over again.

" guess what...." You breathed as you breath began to leave your body.

" what?" She whispered.

" I believed you.... I always did..... you aren't crazy..." You gasped before tightly holding onto her hand.

" no, please, I'm so sorry" she muttered repeatedly as she left kisses all over your face.

Olivia will forever be grateful for your sacrifice and she'll continue to live for you.... because you'll forever live in her. Olivia did wake up.... you woke her up..... she stopped having her headaches. Nellie missed you the most. How you'd stay up with her and help her cope with her nightmares, how you'd swore to protect her.

" dont be, I promise I'll look for you in a thousand life times" and with that sentence you took your last breath. Olivia felt as your hand slowly realased hers as your body relaxed. She cried out loudly tears clouding her vision she tightly hugged your body.

There's nothing more you wanted than to die for Olivia crain. Noting more you wanted than for Olivia crain to not be dead. To not lose herself thinking that everyone thought that she was crazy or needed to see an psychiatrist or mental help. Because all the really needed was someone to listen. Someone to hold her. Be there for her..... she no one was. She gaved comfort but never received it in return.

It's sad that not even Hugh or her kids or Carla never once sat down with Olivia and talked to her like the normal human being she was..... they all thought she was crazy. But never once did they stop to wonder if she was truly ok. To actually listen to her for once. Because behind the dreams that she has, behind the headaches. Olivia was just a human being who wanted to find herself, who just wanted to wake up.

She'd die for her children. While someone else died for her. Olivia was heartbroken as she attended your funeral. Seeing how your mother broke down. She'll forever think about the opportunities you'd miss, her silly joke about pandas not liking macaroni, the family dinners, Shirley's random photos on a Sunday, Nellie silly tea parties, Steven's book speeches, theodoras crazy conspiracy theories, Luke's wild guess as to how trees can re plant themselves in outer space.

Most of all Olivia will miss your eyes, the way they'd lit up when she sang or when you were around the kids, your gigles when she told you a joke or when theodora chased you around the yard for Halloween. Your kisses, your hugs your words of affection and affirmation. She sighed as she pastor continued the eulogy. She looked outside the church and saw you.

You waved and winked.

" I love you" you whispered before flying away. She smiled.

" and I'll forever love you" she whispered back.

Hill house will forever have its history written in black and it's past owners reminded of the lives it took. But we must cherish our memories made because the rest is just confetti. Hill house.... not sane, stands against its hills holding darkness within. It has stood so for a hundred years and will stand so for a hundred more, and thoses who walk there..... walk alone, sorry and thoses who walk there walk together......

A/n: sorry not sorry to all the hearts I broke with this because where are all of the Olivia fics on here?!?!? Not even one🥺and my baby deserves better?!? Tbh if I was in the TV show I'd hold livs hand and jump with her😤. Anyway hope you enjoyed!

[iheart-nana]

xix. on my mind

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CHAPTER NINETEEN ─  on my mind.

❛ in losing grip on sinking ships, you showed up just in time. ❜

Choi Yumi's Perspective

The metal benches in the music club waiting area felt cool against my legs which swung back and forth leisurely. It occurred to me that I probably looked extremely suspicious sitting there idly, looking here and there, as if I was waiting for someone. If I was completely honest to myself, I would have said that I wanted to see Taesung one more time. It was stupid, but it was true. I'd found it impossible to keep his kitty cat face out of my head, and I hadn't seen him in a few days. However, I'd rather tear apart my limbs and use them for making furniture than admit that I was interested in a teenage boy. So, I sat there, telling myself that the cool breeze that entered through the main entrance felt nice and there was nothing to do at home.

My head turned way faster than it should have when I heard one of the doors open. To my dismay, it was Inhyuk. And all the band members. Except Taesung. It was as if the universe was playing tricks on me. I failed to fight the urge, and asked Inhyuk, "Hey! Do you have any idea where Taesung is? I haven't seen him in a few days."

"Oh! He's sick, actually," he informed me, "Why do you ask?"

"Oh... umm..." I stuttered, "I wanted to uhh... talk to him... about... something."

"He should be back soon," said Inhyuk thoughtfully, "It's a shame he's got sick just before his birthday."

His words struck me like lightning in a thunderstorm, "His birthday? When's that?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"It's on the coming Sunday," Inhyuk answered, and I could have sworn there was a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I feel like we should plan something for him. His mom lives overseas, and his dad is a cop, so he's always busy."

"We should," it was too late until I realized my choice of words, "I mean you! You should..."

Inhyuk smirked, "You can help if you like! You guys are friends, right?"

"I guess so," I mumbled, feeling my face getting warmer. I may have looked normal at that moment, but my heart was ready to leap out of my chest and run a half marathon.

Choi Eunyoung's Perspective

The summer heat pricked my skin, relieved by the occasional breeze. I sat at the bus stop with my head hung, as if I looked up at the Sun for even a second, I would have lost my eyesight, which I valued far too much. I must have looked like a ghost, for I was so absorbed by my own thoughts that they drowned out the chatter of other students around me.

Sunjae occupied every corner of my mind, a relentless tide washing away thoughts of anything else. Even after my daily visits, a gnawing worry remained. Was the brave facade he presented a mask for a deeper pain? Witnessing his struggle fueled an anger within me, an anger directed at the cruel twist of fate that had stolen his dream.

But beneath the anger, a different emotion swirled – a confusing tangle that defied definition. Was it simple admiration for his talent? Fanatic devotion for the singer? Or was it something more? The thought itself sent a shiver down my spine.

I couldn't dare to contemplate any further. Trapped in this strange era, with no clue when – or even if – I'd return to my own time, the future stretched before me like a blurry landscape. Each stolen moment with Sunjae felt like a step closer to a precipice, a place where the joy of connection might be shattered by the inevitable goodbye. Fear rose inside my chest from time to time- if I gave in to these feelings, would I ever be able to look away?

Breaking my train of thought, a finger tapped on my shoulder. I looked up slowly, my eyes widening at the face that stared at me with a mischievous smirk. Eyes that glimmered in the Sun and smiling lips that sent my heart racing. "Sunjae! What are you doing here!"

"I'm here to surprise you," he said, taking a seat beside me, flashing the dimple on his right cheek. He was dressed in a simple white t-shirt and black jeans. As I noticed the sling wrapped around his injured shoulder, I felt my heart sink. "You're happy to see me, I hope?"

"Of course I am!" I exclaimed, beaming. How could I not be? "Are you even allowed to be roaming around like this? Weren't you supposed to be discharged this Friday?"

"The doctor said I didn't need to stay in the hospital any longer," he informed me. A wave of relief washed over me.Sunjae's face broke into a wide grin, the first genuine happiness I'd seen since his surgery. His smile, like sunlight breaking through the clouds, made my stomach do a little flip.

"I'm so glad!" I said to him, the smile never leaving my face, "I bet you were tried of seeing those white walls everyday. There's no place like home, am I right?"

Ryu Sunjae's Perspective

She had no idea that she was, in fact, home to him. A constant pillar of support in his darkest hour. Admist the uncertainties of his career, she stood by him unfailingly, offering priceless advice and a shoulder to cry on. "You're right. I'm glad to be back home." I answered, thinking to myself, "By your side, that is."

"Your dad must be thrilled, right? she beamed.

"Sure, he is," even mention of my father's apparent elation couldn't dim my spirits as I continued smiling at her, mostly in admiration of her unreal beauty.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" she uttered suddenly, "I got something for you!" My eyebrows shot up, "What?! How come?!"

"It's just a little gift," Eunyoung told me, "Something to cheer you up after your days in the hospital."

Narrator's Perspective

Sunjae sat silently in the living room of Eunyoung's house with his hands placed awkwardly on his lap. His eyes scanned the place absent-mindedly as he waited for Eunyoung to emerge from her room. The atmosphere was extremely still and silent. A stack of magazines and newspapers sat on the little coffee table in the centre of the room alongside the couch. The curtains were drawn, and the only sources of light were two tall lamps on either corner of the sofa.  It was almost as if no one had been living there.

To anyone else, it might have seemed slightly spooky; But all Sunjae could think of was their stolen moment after he got taken to the hospital during swim practice. About two weeks had passed since it happened, but to him, the memory was crystal clear, as if it happened the previous day. A warmth crept up his cheeks at the thought. A part of him felt embarrassed and stupid. Was he really going to kiss her? Did that make him look brazen to her? He had successfully convinced himself that he imagined it, but he could have sworn that she leaned in too.

"I found it!" Eunyoung's voice put a full stop to Sunjae's flashback as he pulled himself back to the present. She held a blue cap in her hand. It was an ordinary cap to anyone else, but she had picked it out with great thoughtfulness. "Blue was the colour of the umbrella that you gave me the day we met. I wanted it to be something meaningful." A shy smile and a soft pink blush surfaced on her face.

Sunjae could feel his entire body burning up. He felt as if he had been glued to the couch. He didn't want to lead himself on and let himself misinterpret her actions. How could someone so dazzling have the slightest interest in him? Yet, the smallest glimmer of hope bloomed in his heart. Maybe, just maybe...

"It's incredible," he breathed out. The words barely made it out of his mouth, and he could swear his heart had plans of jumping out of his heart and clinging onto Eunyoung. "I love it... thank you! I can't- I don't know how to thank you, really."

"It's nothing," she brushed off, the blush on her cheeks deepening, "I'm just glad you like it."

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆｡° ✮

nayoung's notes:eunyoung and sunjae are so cute i can't 🤧✋

delphi's notes: yumi has no idea what she just got herself into.

next chapter: saturday list of chapters here!

[beacedocrime]

Welcome to

Artemis reads:

If there were any one to talk to I could bear it, but there is no one. I have only the Count to speak with, and he!—I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place.

Don't worry Jonathan, you can say that the Count is real fucking weird, nobody's gonna judge you

I had hung my shaving glass by the window, and was just beginning to shave. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Count's voice saying to me, "Good-morning." I started, for it amazed me that I had not seen him, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me.

Okay but like, this always makes me wonder. Why do vampire clothes not appear in the reflection? Sure, the vampire doesn't have a reflection, but why is that the same with his clothes? I know that outside of the book it is to make scenes like this possible, but all I can imagine is Dracula just. Being naked. Which is not a mental image I want

The whole room behind me was displayed; but there was no sign of a man in it, except myself. This was startling, and, coming on the top of so many strange things, was beginning to increase that vague feeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near;

STAB HIM! STAB HIM WITH THE RAZOR! STAB THE INCREASINGLY WEIRDER OLD MAN THAT HAS NO REFLECTION

I drew away, and his hand touched the string of beads which held the crucifix. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed so quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.

Thank you thank you thank you, a million thank yous to the innkeeper lady that gave the crucifix to him

"Take care," he said, "take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country."

Yeah, it's just the country, sure. Not the guy with fangs and no reflection.

Then seizing the shaving glass, he went on: "And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man's vanity. Away with it!" and opening the heavy window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flung out the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below. Then he withdrew without a word.

-Enter your guest's bedroom

-Have no reflection

-Startle him as he shaves, causing him to cut himself

-Blame the mirror, calling it a foul bauble of man's vanity

-Defenestrate it

-Don't elaborate

-Leave

It is very annoying, for I do not see how I am to shave, unless in my watch-case or the bottom of the shaving-pot, which is fortunately of metal.

Please, Jonathan I love you but there are more important things than how you're gonna shave

It is strange that as yet I have not seen the Count eat or drink. He must be a very peculiar man!

"He must be a very peculiar ma-" JONATHAN HE HAS NO REFLECTION

But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view I explored further; doors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked and bolted. In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is there an available exit.

The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!

Okay, finally. I had almost lost all faith in you. You're still on thin ice though.

Of one thing only am I certain; that it is no use making my ideas known to the Count. He knows well that I am imprisoned; and as he has done it himself, and has doubtless his own motives for it, he would only deceive me if I trusted him fully with the facts. So far as I can see, my only plan will be to keep my knowledge and my fears to myself, and my eyes open.

Yes yes yes yes! He now knows something! Don't tell him shit Jonathan!!

I am, I know, either being deceived, like a baby, by my own fears, or else I am in desperate straits;

No no no perish the thought. You will not gaslight yourself into thinking you're paranoid

He did not come at once into the library, so I went cautiously to my own room and found him making the bed. This was odd, but only confirmed what I had all along thought—that there were no servants in the house.

Once, again, this is so funny to me please. (At least he's making Jonathan's bed, I guess?)

This gave me a fright, for if there is no one else in the castle, it must have been the Count himself who was the driver of the coach that brought me here.

Jonathan you're killing me c'mon you're smarter than this. How are you only now realising this

This is a terrible thought; for if so, what does it mean that he could control the wolves, as he did, by only holding up his hand in silence. How was it that all the people at Bistritz and on the coach had some terrible fear for me?

Okay yeah. Fair. But still

What meant the giving of the crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of the mountain ash? Bless that good, good woman who hung the crucifix round my neck! for it is a comfort and a strength to me whenever I touch it.

Yes bless her and bless all the people on the coach and everyone that trued their hardest to save this man they didn't know please I know none of their names but I love them all so so much

In the meantime I must find out all I can about Count Dracula, as it may help me to understand. To-night he may talk of himself, if I turn the conversation that way. I must be very careful, however, not to awake his suspicion.

Yes good, good know thy enemy. Also maybe don't stay up till dawn this time? Maybe catch some Zs while it's still dark? Please?

In his speaking of things and people, and especially of battles, he spoke as if he had been present at them all.

Wow. Such weird. What could that possibly mean? Nothing strange , I'm sure!

It was by this time close on morning, and we went to bed.

I'm going to strangle him

May 7 / May 9

[foundtherightwords]

The Firebird - Chapter 11

Pairing: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great) x OFC, Fairytale AU

Summary: When Paul, a spoiled young prince, spots a strange bird in the forest near his palace, he impulsively chases after it, hoping to both escape from and prove himself to his disapproving mother. Thus he is plunged into an exhilarating adventure across a magical realm populated by enchanted princesses, dangerous monsters, and powerful wizards, an adventure that may change him more than he can ever imagine.

Chapter warning: none

Chapter word count: 3k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10

Chapter 11 - The House on Chicken Legs

It was the strangest sight Paul had ever laid eyes on since his arrival in Lukomorye, and considering he'd seen some pretty strange sights, that really was saying something. An iron mortar was flying into the clearing, carrying inside it an old woman, all bones and sagging skin, with a nose so long and hooked it almost touched her upper lip, a head of stringy white hair, and eyes that glinted within deep sockets under bushy brows that reminded him of a leshy's eyes. She was driving the mortar by beating it with a pestle in one hand, and in the other hand, she held a broom, which she used to sweep away her tracks. It seemed to Paul a rather cumbersome mode of transportation, but Baba Yaga—for he had heard enough tales of her to recognize her on sight, even without an introduction—clearly found it quite efficient.

The mortar stopped, and Baba Yaga stepped off. Her gimlet eyes bore into the four of them, searching, measuring. They all involuntarily cowered, even Ilya, who lowered his bow with an uncertain frown. At this closer range, Paul realized that Baba Yaga's eyes weren't quite like a leshy's. He couldn't tell what color they were, only that they were dark, sharp, and profound—not just physically deep, but containing unfathomable wisdom and age. It was rather like being gazed at by an abyss.

"Well, well, well," Baba Yaga said. "What do we have here? Three Lukomorians and a Russian! By Perun, we are eating well tonight!"

Zhara gently extracted her trembling hand from Paul's and stepped forward. "Please, grandmother," she said, bowing low. "I am Zhara Artyomovna of—"

"I know who you are, girl," Baba Yaga interrupted. "I know who all of you are, except for this one"—she pointed a bony finger at Paul—"but what I don't know is, what you are doing here."

"Please, we don't mean to trespass," Zhara said. "We're here to most humbly ask for your help."

"Help? To bring down your brother?" Seeing their surprised looks, Baba Yaga chuckled. "Yes, I know all about your brother and his scheme, girl. What's it got to do with me?"

"What's it got to do with you?! How could you ask such a thing?" In her shock, Zhara forgot her diffidence and raised her voice. "If my brother gained immortality, he would crush Lukomorye! He would destroy everything, including you!"

Baba Yaga's eyes glittered strangely. "That is not immortality he is striving for," she said. "He is only trying to cheat Death, and believe me, you cannot cheat Death for long. As for destroying me... I am older than these trees around me, older than the river running through that meadow, older than those hills there, older than the land itself. Whatever he can do to me, I shall welcome it." Her words sounded like they were coming from far, far away, and Paul shivered.

"Please, grandmother, you're our only hope—" Zhara said, extending her hands toward Baba Yaga imploringly.

"It is foolish to hope," Baba Yaga said, as cold and unyielding as a mountain. "There is nothing I can do for you."

Zhara looked back at her companions with eyes full of despair. At the sight of her tears and her trembling lips, Paul forgot all his fears. He would not let anyone treat her like this, not even if that person was—well, even if it was his own mother. He could not.

"Come, Zhara," he said, taking her elbow and guiding her away. "Don't degrade yourself. We must have made a mistake. She's clearly not Baba Yaga."

Zhara frowned at him, not understanding.

"What did you say, boy?" the old woman snapped.

He turned around to face her, trying to conjure up his usual expression of contempt, the one he often wore around his mother's lovers or the other sycophants that clung to her skirts. "Well, at least you're not the Baba Yaga that I have heard of back in Russia," he said. "That Baba Yaga was all-powerful and would never stand for any threats, not running away at the first mention of danger like some dotty old bird."

Zhara gasped. Even Ilya and Elena widened their eyes, shocked at such blatant impertinence. Baba Yaga was upon Paul in a flash, her skinny, claw-like hand closing around his throat.

"I know what you're trying to do, boy," she growled. "Think I could be fooled by such a childish attempt to rile me up?"

The horse with the golden mane chose that moment to trot over, perhaps because it was bored with the grass that Baba Yaga's woods had to offer, or perhaps because it noticed that Paul, to whom it had taken a strange liking, was being threatened. The sight of the horse made Baba Yaga drop Paul's neck instantly.

"Is that you, my Voskhod?" she said, her voice becoming tender as she reached for the horse in disbelief. "You have come back to Baba?" The horse gave a soft whinny and rubbed its nose against Baba Yaga's calloused hand. She turned to Zhara and her companions. "Ever since Afron stole him from me, I never thought I'd see him again. What happened to that slimy bastard, by the way?"

"Dead," Ilya said.

Baba Yaga cackled, sounding like she was gargling with a mouthful of rocks. Once she sobered up, she looked at Zhara again, and Paul thought the old woman's eyes softened somewhat. "Since you and your companions have returned my little Sunrise to me, I owe you. My offer is this: I shall take you wherever you wish to go and lend you whatever aid I can in your fight against your brother, but I shall not take part in that fight myself. What is between you and your brother, you must face on your own. Is that understood?"

Zhara almost fell to her knees with relief. "Yes! Thank you, grandmother!"

"Don't thank me just yet," Baba Yaga grumbled. She turned to face the woods and chanted, "Little house, little house, stand the way thy mother placed thee, turn thy back to the forest and thy face to me!"

There was a great rustling sound. The trees shook and groaned, the birds roosting in their tops shot up into the sky, squawking in complaint about being roused from their sleep, as some huge creature moved through the forest. But it was no creature. It was a hut, moving on a pair of chicken legs.

The sight of the hut, so familiar to him from the old tales, made Paul almost laugh out loud in delight. It walked into the clearing, sat down in front of Baba Yaga by folding its chicken legs underneath, and became an ordinary izba.

Or perhaps not quite so ordinary. A little lawn, complete with a fence surrounding it and a gate, had spread out around the hut, but these were not the usual wooden fences and gates. They were white, bone white, for indeed, they were made from human bones—long leg bones for the fence posts, topped with skulls, shorter arm bones for the crossbars. The gate was locked with a set of jaw-bones, sharp teeth still intact. As soon as the hut sat down, an eerie light shone out from the eye sockets of the skulls, illuminating the entire place. Three horses, the white and black they had seen, along with a red one—not chestnut, not bay, but true red, as red as Zhara's plumage—stood grazing on the lawn, under the shade of a great linden tree, quite unfazed by the ghoulish barricade.

"Ho! Ye, my solid locks, unlock! Thou, my stout gate, open!" Baba Yaga shouted. The locks sprang open with a horrible clicking sound, and the gate swung wide on hinges made from the bones of human feet.

The moment the gate opened, the horse with the golden mane, Voskhod, trotted through and joined his family on the other side. They all welcomed him, happily snorting and rubbing their noses into his mane.

"Those are my Night, Day, and Sun," Baba Yaga said proudly. "Sun is Voskhod's mother."

The humans were much more hesitant to enter. Paul followed the others as Baba Yaga led them inside, afraid he was going to find more gruesome things. To his great relief, it was a perfectly normal izba with its warm stove and simple, sturdy furniture. A mouth-watering smell of fresh baked bread was coming from the stove, and the travelers, their fear and suspicion overcome by the exhaustion of the last two days, sat down at the table to join the most fearsome witch of all the lands in a nice, cozy supper.

But the most extraordinary thing about the house on chicken legs was still to come.

After supper, Baba Yaga barked, "Well, where are we going, girl? Where is your brother?" In a halting voice, Zhara told her about Buyan Island. The old witch nodded solemnly and hit the ceiling with her broomstick a few times, mumbling something under her breath. There was a slight movement, and they felt the floor rise beneath them as the hut unfolded its legs again. This done, Baba Yaga climbed up on the stove to sleep, apparently satisfied, leaving the others to exchange puzzled looks. Then Paul glanced out the window, and his jaw dropped. Following his gaze, the others rushed to the window, and they, too, widened their eyes at the sight.

The landscape was rushing by, as it had when they were on Voskhod's back. The forest was a dark smudge, while the stars were shards of light glancing off of the skull-and-bone fence. However, the lawn with the horses on it and the fence around it remained stationary, and the hut didn't seem to be moving at all, giving the impression that the world was traveling past them instead of the other way around—and perhaps that was exactly what was happening. After a while, Paul felt rather queasy looking at it, so he turned away.

The hut traveled for most of the night, only stopping to rest at dawn, when the horses left to herald the day. They galloped out of Baba Yaga's pasture in reverse order—first Night, then Day, and finally Sun, leaving only Voskhod behind. The skull's eyes went out, and sunlight poured over the lawn like honey. Paul stood by the window, transfixed by it all. Zhara, now in her avian form, hopped about on the windowsill next to him, and he stroked her head and her wings almost absently.

"I can't thank you enough for allowing me to witness such magic," he said, and she gave a little chirp, sounding pleased.

And so it went with the house on chicken legs. It traveled through the land, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but always moving forward. Paul, Elena, and Ilya worked around the house, and Zhara helped when she could. Paul, who had never had to lift his hand, not even to tie his own cravat, now had to get used to all sorts of manual labor—cooking, washing up, sweeping the floor, cleaning the yard, chopping firewood—but he dared not complain, not when he saw the two princesses and the knight working at these menial tasks as though it was the most natural thing for them to do. None of them ventured outside the bone fence. Baba Yaga was the only one that went out. Most mornings, she left in her mortar, though they knew not where and dared not ask. She left the larder and the cellar well stocked, and Ilya, who turned out to be the best cook of them all, made sure to have supper on the table by the time she returned.

Despite this peaceful routine, life inside the house on chicken legs was not exactly happy. For one thing, Elena remained sorrowful over Dobrynya and would sit for hours in the yard or in front of the fire, staring at nothing. One night, when it was their turn to clean up after supper, Paul whispered to Zhara that he didn't understand why Elena could grieve so much for someone she had only known for a few days.

"You once told me yourself, we cannot decide who we fall in love with," Zhara said with a shrug. "The heart wants what it wants."

Does your heart want me? Paul wanted to ask, but he bit his tongue and held his peace. It was not the time to speak of matters of the heart. Zhara always seemed distracted these days. Paul supposed that the closer they got to her brother, the more tangible the battle ahead became to her, and she could think of nothing else. He wouldn't have worried, except that she ate little and slept even less. As a bird, she would flit about the house or jump from branch to branch on the linden tree in the yard, never staying still, and at night, she would stand by the window looking out. Sometimes, waking on his cot in the corner of the room in the middle of the night, he would see her at the window, gripping the frame white-knuckled, as though by doing so she could make the hut travel faster. His attempts to persuade her to save her strength hadn't been successful, and he could only pray that they reached Buyan soon and face Illarion once and for all.

The only one who remained busy and cheerful was Ilya. He spent his days sharpening his sword, oiling his mace, and fixing and recounting his arrows, trying to see if he could make them last. He had even started to teach Paul how to use the spear, and Paul gained much more sympathy for his soldiers, who'd had to suffer through his drilling exercises.

Some days, Baba Yaga stayed home or returned earlier than usual, and she would watch their work with that same inscrutable glint in her eyes. One night, seeing Elena take off the poultice on Paul's wound, which was completely healed by now, the old witch said, "You have a talent, girl."

Elena blushed. "Thank you. Ever since I was a child, I've always had an interest in healing plants and herbs, and it just comes natural to me..."

"I'd say." Baba Yaga scratched her warty chin, looking thoughtfully at Elena. "How would you like to stay with me and learn more of the art? I could use a helper around the house too."

"Oh, that would be a great honor!" Elena said, her face brightening up for the first time in days. "Thank you, grandmother!"

Another day, after watching Ilya count his arrows again and again, Baba Yaga grunted and went digging in her trunk. She came up with a quiver, which she tossed to Ilya. "Put your arrows in that," she said, "and you shall never run out."

Ilya tested it, and indeed, any arrow he loosed from his bow would return to the quiver a moment later. "I've heard about this!" he said in amazement. "It belongs to Svyatogor the Giant—or used to, anyway. How did it come to be in your possession?"

"I won it, a long, long time ago," Baba Yaga said, her eyes darkening with some distant memory.

Something in her voice, in the way she looked at the quiver, lit a spark of suspicion in Paul's mind. He remembered how adamantly she had refused to help them, and how, in all the days they stayed in her house, they had never seen her perform any feat of magic other than controlling the hut—and even then, the hut seemed to have a mind of its own.

He followed the witch outside, where she sat polishing her mortar and pestle under the linden.

"You don't have any powers, do you?" he asked. "Not any that counts." He was surprised at his own brazenness, but if Zhara was placing her trust in the wrong person, he felt he ought to find out and warn her.

"You're sharp, aren't you?" the witch said without looking up. "So tell me, Russian boy, how do you know which power counts and which doesn't?" When Paul couldn't answer, she gave a little chuckle but didn't seem angry or offended. "Make no mistake, I may not have as much power as I used to, but I still have it."

"What do you mean, 'not as much as you used to'?"

She finally lifted those unfathomable eyes to his face. Harsh lines scarred her features. "You boys, always think of powers that control and destroy. I used to have those as well, until they were taken from me... by my brother."

"Your brother?"

"Koschei."

Paul's mouth dropped open.

"Koschei is—was your brother?"

"Yes, why do you keep repeating everything I said, boy?" She sounded irritated, rather like one of his old nurses or tutors when he kept pestering them with his questions about his father's fate or his mother's coup. "He took my powers from me in his quest for immortality. And look where that led him. Bested by a child. Pathetic."

Her reveal left Paul speechless.

"But—" he stammered, once he regained his train of thoughts, "if Koschei took those powers from you, and Illarion took those powers from Koschei, why do you refuse to help us defeat him? With Illarion gone, you can reclaim your powers!"

"And what would I want with them?" She shrugged. "I have the power to drive my mortar whenever I want to go. I have the power to protect my house and those in it. Don't they count?"

Paul thought about it. "Are they enough?" he asked.

Baba Yaga shook her head, her dark, dark eyes looking at Paul with something almost like pity. "If you think of power that way, nothing will ever be enough, boy." She went inside, leaving Paul to mull over those words.

Chapter 12

There will be a bit of smut in the next chapter. It's non-explicit, as usual with me, but I thought I'd give a heads-up anyway!

Taglist: @ali-r3n

[echantedtoon]

Blooming Friendships Ch3 The Witch And The Ghosts

Subcon Forest was not a place for just anyone to enter and exit as they please. There was a reason these woods had such a feared reputation and was rumored to be haunted. Because it was. By the King Snatcher of Subcon(as he liked to refer to himself) and his ghastly assortment of minions and dwellers behind him as his undead army, anyone who went in NEVER came out which added to the entire terror of it all!!...Well no one except two women who were currently carrying flowers, plants, and baskets full of all kinds of cursed plants from within the borders of the ghastly forest that no mere mortal ever dared to come in. ..Besides a select few who had the Ghost King's blessing or who just didn't fear him of course. 

"Thank you so much for helping me collect all these ingredients. I swear some times they can be so hard to find. Good thing you're a plant expert huh?," the witch expressed with gratitude as copper eyes smiled over towards the woman next to her. 

The red head smiled back batting her own hand. "Nah. Ah'm just glad to get out of that spaceship for a while. Those tiny hallways aren't too good on the back havin' ta crawl through them all the time."

The witch nodded. "Yes. It can be difficult if you can't go through walls or know any teleport spells." She chuckled. "I wonder how Snatchy's doing watching the children by himself for the first time in a while?~"

Poppy shrugged but chuckled too. "I'm sure they'll be fine. The purple onion's not that incompetent. 'Sides he was watchin' 'em way before I came along."

"Hmm. True, true. In all my years of knowing him he's always been the kind to bounce back no matter the situation." Hazelle smirked. "Even if he does get incredibly stubborn and selfish about things."

"That's true like a big ol baby that one."

"Yep. Been that way for the five hundred and counting years I've known him."

....Poppy rose a brow and shifted the basket of plants in her arms. "About that. You know how Phi-..I mean Snatcher met me, but I don't you've ever told me how you ended up meeting the kooky noodle."

Hazelle chuckled before raising a brow and smirk back to Poppy. "Oh? Would you like to know? It's a simple tale really." Poppy nodded. "Alright then. It all started five hundred years ago when I was just a young witchling. I heard that the Subcon Forest was cursed and haunted and all the other rumors they still spread, but the promise of all those magical properties untouched was too much of a good thing to pass up.~"

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Whelp! She was lost. Not that she was concerned mind you. She could still very well teleport her way out of here and to the safety of her own dimension or where ever she wanted to on this planet, but she wasn't giving up yet. Besides, it's been a while since she trolled around in such a delightful dark and dreary place like this. Chalk full with natural magical and spiritual energy that she felt course right through her very veins. She had seen a couple of these so called 'evil' spirits but they were nothing but small and meek. Looking like small scarecrow dolls or colorful worms attached to masks who fled when she walked past or stared. Not very threatening persey. but who was she to judge? The bag of dead plants and other things she found along the forest floor weighed down on her shoulder but she still smiled walking calmly through the fog and dead trees that slowly passed her. Yep. Completely utterly lost but she still wasn't worried yet-...Until something worrying DID happen. She was still looking around and not paying attention to where she was going so she shouldn't have been surprised when the ground suddenly swallowed her up making her fall backwards and yell out. What swallowed her up was a large flash of white and she felt herself get stuck up feet in the air. The white sheet felt like some kind of rucksack similar to the one she was using to carry her plants. But it was a dingy white from being hidden under a layer of dirt for who knows how long. Seemingly in some kind of trap. Well peck! How was she supposed to get out of this?

"Oh dear. This certainly is a pickle. Now who would do such a thing as set up a trap in the middle of a haunted forest?"

She was shut up when she felt the whole world shake. Knocking the poor trapped woman back onto her behind within the trap, what sounded like a humungous tree cracking and falling over with the shaking made her pause as the tarp swayed also caused by the shaking. The panicked cawing of crows as they flew to safety amplified whatever she was feeling, copper eyes looking around the tarp until they locked onto movement. SOMETHING. BIG. Was just outside the tarp. A shadow silently moved along side the outside of the tarp and her brow rose. Well that didn't look too promising. Now did it? SNAP!! The woman tumbled out from the bottom of the trap and her yelp was interrupted as she face planted the dirt. Dirt and small twigs sticking to her hair as she did. Purple. EVERYWHERE. Suddenly dark purple. Her head raised  as reality itself disappeared and purple warped her view everywhere. The same giant shadow suddenly falling over her and the booming raspy voice behind. 

"AAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! FFFFFOOOOOOOLLLLL!!! YOU BLEW IT PUNY MORTAL!! NO ONE ENTERS MY DOMAIN AND WALKS OUT THE SAME!!"

She calmly got herself up and started dusting the purple soil from her pink and white outfit. 

"TREMBLE IN MY WAKE AS YOU'RE COMPLETELY UTTERLY HELPLESS!!"

She reached up to straighten her hat before turning around. ...And sighing seeing half her bag was split out onto the ground. Oh dear. Now she'd had to pick that up all over again. With another sigh she leaned over, grabbed the bag, and began picking back the plants up she collected. 

"NOW YOUR MORTAL SOUL IS MI-..," The weird shadow paused. Blinking his giant yellow eyes at the fact that this mortal before him...Was NOT trembling in fear. Or cowering. Or begging for her life....Or even reacting to him. Instead she ignored his entire existence as she picked up something....Making him instantly scowl. "HEY!! I'M TALKING TO YOU!!"

"I'm aware," she answered back standing back up once she had picked up all of her herbs and then turned her raised brow look to him finally. She took a moment to take in his entire long sixteen foot purple self and the scowl on his face. "...You are kinda hard to miss with how loud you are."

"Insolent little Peckneck!!," he roared leaning down to stare her face to face with a snarl. "Do you have any idea who you're speaking too! I am the all might Snatcher! You're in my forest and you WILL fear me!"

"Wow. You like to really to boast yourself up I see. Very egotistical I assume too."

"W H A T!?" Oh holy PECK. This spirit was mad now. Well...She assumed he was a spirit by how he looked and the magical aura he gave off. Pure and RAW spiritual energy. In fact...The most powerful soul she had ever come across. Fascinating..But still, who was he to boss her around like that? He hissed and held out a claw threateningly close to her face to point at her. Not that she flinched. Instead she looked almost amused really. "You have NO idea who you're dealing with! I CAN TAKE YOUR SOUL IF I WANTED TOO!!"

"I think you'd actually have to catch me first.~"

"YOU THE PECK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?"

"A witch."

The ghost paused....blinking at such a blunt response from the smiling woman. It actually took him a moment to respond to her. "A....witch?"

She nodded. "Yep! Cauldron stirring, potion making, pointy hat wearing witch.~"

After a moment further his brow rose as he frowned. "Well witch or not you trespassed in MY FOREST and you're going to pay the price!"

"As much as I'd love too, I really can't stay. Shapeshifter is at home waiting for me and if I don't show he'll try to eat the bats again."

"HA! You can't escape! No mere mortal can escape my traps."

"Well it's a good thing I'm not a 'mere mortal'." With a smiled she held up her hand. "Chow.~" And snapped her fingers. Disappearing into literal thin air.

The ghost sat there stunned into silence. Stuck in his purple world with nothing but the trap for company.

"........WHAT THE P E C K!?"

***********************************************************************************************

"I wished I could've seen his face." Hazelle giggled as they passed the small old building that Snatcher usually used whenever he wasn't in his own tree house home. A sign labeled "Snatcher's Shack'' right in the ground right by it as they passed. "But I couldn't leave Shapey unintended."

"Uh huh." Poppy walked along right with her still carrying her basket and giving her a raised brow before shrugging it off and looking forward again. "Well that certainly sounds like something you would do. But what 'm missin' is how you two became friends."

Hazelle waved her hand. "Well the plants here turn to out to have many magical properties. So I had to keep coming back for more. He didn't give up trying to catch me for a long time but it turns out my magical abilities allow me to slip by his and over the course of five hundred years I guess he realized that it was useless to keep trying to grab me. So we made a little deal."

"Deal?"

She smirked. "At the time he was having some very nasty rivalry with Moonjumper, or so he says. Found out about my little blue ghost repellent potions from getting too close to me sometimes. Took some interest in them. So we made a deal. He'd let me come and get as many potion ingredients as I want and in return." She held up her basket with a little shake. "All I had to do was make him a small handful of blue potions every moon or so. I kind of feel bad for causing Moony some trouble with them but it's all fine now."

".....Speaking of which. How did ya end up meetin' that other kooky ghost anyways?"

"Moonjumper? Haha! Well that certainly was a much more pleasant experience than meeting Snatcher I must say. He was much more polite too....Hmm. But if I actually think about it...I actually met him a little while after Snatchy and I made our little deal."

***********************************************************************************************

 It was a quiet night. Except for the chirping of crickets. A gentle breeze swept through the cool air, and stars shone. Even though it was a peaceful night, not everyone was sleeping peacefully. Two eyes were wide awake enjoying the beautiful wonders of nature and all it had to provide to the silent melody of it's mistress the night and all her dark beauty as the world slumbered in her wake. On a normal day it would look so much different. Sunny. Birds singing. The world was filled with the happy screaming of children as they played and couples walked too and from down the paths or having picnics in the sunshine......Or it would have been if this forest wasn't haunted by vengeful ghosts and cursed on top of it. Not that she minded. She loved this forest how it was. If she wasn't living in her own magical hot spot this might've been a good place to live without unwanted attention. Her footsteps only adding to the magical melody taking place from her as they walked along the trees glimmer with dew from that morning fog.. The reflections shining like the stars themselves mirroring walking in some forbidden heaven of the night for them both. The wind blown around her and she shivered rubbing her body against a tree to keep up body heat to not catch a cold. Hopefully it'll work. The light reflected off of her eyes making it seem like they shined brighter than the world around them as she walked about looking past things. The glowing mushrooms and moon above being her only source of light in the darkness as she carried about her. Over her shoulder a bag of magical things like stones, herbs, plants, and other natural magical specialties one could only find right here in this forest. Luckily for her there was plenty to go around. 

But that did beg the question. Where was the exit again? There was barely anymore abandoned houses and by now she was just wondering around smiling enjoying the peaceful night. Her instincts began tugging her in a direction off the beaten path. It took those eyes a moment to realize that she were still going down a path, but it looked overgrown with dark grass and Dark trees all round them. Clearly no one had come down here in a long, long while. But that didn't seem to change the mood of the girl who never stopped tugging herself forward. Trees passed and the path was slowly starting to open up ahead of her. The trees parted ways to make a small clearing in the middle of the forest, but not too big of a clearing. It looked about the size of one of the houses she's seen. And smack dab in the middle of this random clearing was a small tree. Compared to the other trees in the surrounding forests this one was considerably smaller and had a smaller trunk than the others. This one must've been younger than the others before the Subcon Curse set in. Couldn't be older than a few years at most before then. She was easily pulled through the black as night grass and up to the small tree that stood proudly in the middle of the night grass. The air smelt heavily of grass and faint swamp gas making her head swim slightly. Her eyes memorized by the calmness of the area but blinked with curiosity back to her surroundings. Curious spot like this to be smack dab in the middle of a haunted forest, but oh well. This place looked as good as any to stop and take a brake. Her shoulder was starting to get sore from carrying the sack for so long and while he can teleport out anytime she wanted, but how else was she supposed to make a mental map of this place and the best patches for magical ingredients if she didn't walk around and look? The sack was plopped onto the dark purple ground and Hazelle soon fell after. Plopping herself onto the ground with a sigh. It would soon be daylight anyways, so she could take a break and walk around a little more in a few hours. Leaning against the tree and looking up at the stars above, she settled her tired body from her trip. She supposed she should keep going but right now it didn't seem any of that or anything else mattered. Not the moon. Not the stars. Not the past. Not even the wind that threatened to chill her to the bone. The wind blew some more rustling the dead leaves and driving the intoxicating swamp scent around her more. She was too tired and needed rest. With the moon looking down over her she laid her head down to rest and fell asleep...but not really. She wasn't really feeling sleepy-tired, more like if you ran a whole bunch and just needed a break like tired. So she crossed her legs, put her arms behind her head, and pulled her pointy hat over her eyes to block out the moonlight as she sighed. This was the life. No rules. Going at her own pace. Just relaxing whenever she wanted and doing what she loved. Just her. The wind blowing through the dead trees. And the sudden looming of a figure over her-

....Wait-

She paused. Uh OH. Here we go again. Her first instincts was to expect a giant looming shadow noodle with those grumpy yellow eyes staring at her...but that was dashed out the window when the magical aura hit her like a ton of bricks. This presence was...Powerful for sure. MUCH more powerful than the average Dweller or Subconite for sure..But not as powerful and almost intoxicating power fueled aura as Snatcher. So..There was no way it could've been him. The auras felt too different. So then that begged the question. WHO was right above her? At first Hazelle didn't move, only sat there unmoving to not alert the presence above her figuring out her next move. Not that she was nervous. Just...cautious. Never knew what spirits you would find in this forest after all. If she needed too, Hazelle could just teleport back to her home by snapping her fingers. But something did indeed catch her attention. The faint sound of...metal? Hmm. That was strange certainly. It-...It almost sounded like the sound of chains if someone moved them around. Calmly, Hazelle reached a hand up and grabbed her hat, pushing it up and out of her eyes. And what she saw right above her made her pause for sure. Because right above her floating around was a GHOST. But not one she had ever seen before. Mitch matched red eyes bore into her soul as deathly blue skin and a head of blue hair stared back at her. Whelp. She found the source of the metal noise considering that this ..thing wore chains around his wrist that dragged across the air whenever his arms moved. Strangely this spector sported some kind of orange-red suit and monocle over his right eye. His body seemed to shake and jerk around as if he was constantly being shaken. A strange sight to be sure. The two of them stared at one another for a moment. Before the she spoke.

"You know it is very rude to stare."

The thing seemed to be taken aback as he blinked before finally speaking. "O-Oh. *ahem* Y-Yes. How rude of me." Ah. So it COULD talk. Hazelle's brow rose now and a smile tugged on her lips. His (At least she assumed it was a he. It sounded like a man.) voice was different from Snatcher's. While the purple noodle's voice was raspy this ghost's voice sounded more smooth and echo-y. Almost sounded human..Almost. The thing brought his hands up fumbling for a moment as if not sure how to handle someone talking to him for a moment before clearing his throat and placed a single hand on his chest composing himself. In one fluid motion the ghost leaned down and extended his other arm in a graceful bow to her. "Greetings, Fair Maiden. Forgive me if my sudden presence startled you. But it is rare to see another person this far in the forest, especially a living one at that. Usually the ones I do see aren't so....'lively' persay or quickly fall victim to a much bigger threat amongst the trees."

"Oh. You must mean Snatcher right?"

Again the thing suddenly stared at her pausing and blinking. Before sputtering again not believing what she had just boldly stated in front of him. "I-....H-How do you-"

"You can say we have a little exchange going on." In response her hand reached over and grabbed the bag next to her. Lifting it up as he looked to it. "I make him a few knick knacks he likes and in return I can pick up a few magical goodies here and there.~"

The dapper dressed ghost continued to stare at the bag for a moment then back at her. Seeming to think something over in his head. "...I-....must admit..That was not what I was expecting to hear so ..forward of you just a few sentences into a conversation with a stranger."

She shrugged. "Well I wasn't expecting to meet another full body apparition in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night either."

.....He hummed. "Touche my dear." His face contorted to one of slight suspicion now as his brow rose. Leaning down to make eye to eye contact with the smiling witch. "But you mentioned collecting magical items." He eyed the bag again. "...Am I to take it you are some kind of wizardess or a sorceress? Perhaps a healer of sorts?"

"You were close with the first two guesses. I just so happen to be a witch."

Those red eyes popped open in surprise. "A witch?" She nodded. Hazelle could see the gears turning behind his ectoplasm turning as he continued to stare at her...before a frown appeared on his face as he hummed again. "A witch who is dealing with the Snatcher. Then, forgive my forwardness, am I being too blunt to say I assume YOU are the one supplying him those oh so lovely blue potions he took the hobby of lobbing at my head? I highly doubt he's been able to make them himself and the way they just suddenly popped into his possession is..highly suspicious."

"You are not wrong on that assumption," she said happily not even trying to hide it. Which made him blink in surprise. "But to be fair, I didn't have any idea what he was doing with them before now at least. I figured he was somehow using them against that vile ice woman who lives somewhere in the frozen territory there." She motion her hand off towards the woods and his head followed for a moment before looking back at her. "But a deal IS a deal. Any feud between you two or the ice woman has nothing to do with myself. Now does it? I only keep my word and end of the bargain and he does the same. I don't bother anyone here. That makes me a mere bystander if you will. Doesn't it?"

The ghost looked her over thoughtfully going over the words she spoke to him in his metaphorical mind. Before nodding. "Yes. An innocent bystander just doing business. I can understand that completely...But if I may give a word of advice." He pointed at her. "I would watch my back around that Snatcher character if I were you. He's the unruly type who wouldn't hesitate to sink his claws into an unsuspecting soul to backstab them."

"Oh trust me. I know that first handedly." She smiled. "But I do believe you haven't introduced yourself."

"Hm?...OH! You're absolutely right, Dear Lady. Where are my manners?" He once again placed a hand on his chest. "You may call me what everyone has called me for centuries now. I am known as The Moonjumper." She watched as he then extended his blue hand to her chains clanking. "And you are, My Dear?"

She smiled and placed her hand in his. "My name is Hazelle. Pronounced 'Hazel' but spelt with an extra L E at the end."

"Hazelle? Well then my dear. Allow me to extend my most formal greetings to you." Leaning her hand up to his face, he lightly kissed the lively fair skin with his colder lips.

***********************************************************************************************

"He was always so formal and old fashioned since the day I met him." Hazelle chuckled as the two stopped in front of Snatcher's usual home at last from their trip. "But I wouldn't change him for the world."

Poppy nodded in agreement. "Can't say I'm as fond o' 'em as you are. But I suppose that it's best that he didn't change. Ah know I wouldn't wish any change on the screaming purple noodle."

Hazelle nodded back. "Ah. But look at the time. I'm afraid this is where the two of us must part until next time. I'll be taking that bag from you now. Thanks again for lending me the hand."

"No problem." Poppy happily handed over the other bag and Hazelle wobbly juggled it into the same hand as the other bag, leaving one hand open. "Are you sure ya'll be able ta make it home ok like that?"

"Of course I will. After all." She smiled. "I am a witch.~"

With that Hazelle raised her hand and with a snap she disappeared into thin air.

[kieranduffygirlporn]

gonna talk a bit about what it's been like for me the past couple days. just need to be heard and to type out all my thoughts & feelings about being an introject w/ an introject partner in all this. Hopefully you'll get something out of this

tw for abuse, disordered eating, very BPD happenings, one moment of suicidal ideation

warning: really fucking long and not the most organized thing in the world

I never talked about this here or really anywhere on any other blog but hi. I'm Ida. I'm the second host @/dearfauxpas and our system has seen since our syscovery. .... past this I literally cannot start to describe my identity without talking about Wilbur. I'm sat here struggling to conjure anything.

The reason for this is twofold. I, myself, am an introject, of a bit of art we have at the beginning of our main/art blog that kind of backfired because we never ended up posting much art. The second reason, and the main reason, is that my boyfriend is a cc!Wilbur introject in our system.

When we started dating two years ago, I was at probably one of the lowest points that I have been at as an alter myself. It was a month after I formed and I was still incredibly attached to my source. When I formed and even today, I am still the only alter in the system who has a feminine aligned gender. I changed my name to Ida the night I formed because I named myself after a pet I had in-source. My source (I'm sure you'll be shocked to know) was incredibly mentally ill, and as a result, I formed as a symptom holder for our worsening borderline symptoms. I've also only started talking about this to very close friends within the past couple days but our early relationship/the first six months was tumultuous. I was possessive, obsessive, and paranoid. I also had issues with thoughts of disordered eating and at one point went four days eating about the caloric equivalent of a single bagel per day because I was so depressed.

My system and particularly my love saved me. Over time, my paranoia that he'd leave me subsided, and we become much happier, which is what lead to me becoming the host as our previous host's mental health declined due to many factors.

During the span of our relationship, we played a lot into our introject identities (sootcest lmfao). I became a lot more independent from my source and recovered from a lot of my paranoia. I thought I had simply beaten our BPD traits, and that they were gone forever (with one exception). I thought my disordered eating thoughts had vanished and I was going to spend forever happy with him.

However, foolishly, because of this play we did with our introject identities, I allowed my feelings for my boyfriend to mix with my feelings for the actual person. I tried to maintain a degree of separation between the two, in that I would refrain from doing weird stalker shit and at some points I would be made uncomfortable with the stuff that he shared on stream because I wanted to know very little about him personally. But I let them mix, because hey, why not? We were having fun. There's no reason not to. It's not like he's an awful person, right?

Right?

Part 2: He's an awful person

There were a few points in which, mostly when other CC drama was at a high point, I'd ask myself a couple questions.

1. What would I do if my boyfriend ever left me?

2. What would I do if it came to light that Wilbur was a horrible human being?

The answer to number one was the exception to the thought that all my borderline symptoms had simply vanished, and, rather well-adjustedly, it was "Kill myself."* (*Like in headspace. I never thought it was worth it to kill the whole body over my own issues.)

The answer to number two was "I don't know."

And that is how I've been feeling since Wednesday night. I don't know.

At first, I thought there was no way it could be true. I searched for any information that could tell me that people were wrong. I literally blocked myself from Twitter because I knew going on it would be a form of emotional self-harm, but I obsessively checked tags on discourse, Shelby, and Wilbur, waiting for anyone to post any evidence that it wasn't so. I spent an entire day outside of home feeling completely nauseous any time I wasn't directly talking to someone.

It's hard to articulate exactly what it felt like once I got home to charge my phone and I knew. It was kind of slow. Every new piece of information I learned made it worse and worse until it was just undeniable.

It was like everything I thought I had buried came back with a vengeance. I stopped eating and drinking, my entire brain felt like it short circuited and previously when I had at least been able to focus on other things for short stints, he was all I could think about.

There were times, especially after I thought I had gotten rid of the borderline traits, that I would become hyperfixated on something that was my boyfriend or his source and it would feel like I was going to melt and die. I genuinely cannot be away from him for too long or my mental health will shit the bed. When I was with him, though, and when I filled every part of my senses with only him, his face, his voice, the way he holds me even if the feeling is blunted by the fact that he's just another part of our brain, it was always the happiest I'd ever feel. I can't have that anymore.

I really can't describe the mood swings and the physical pain that I've experienced as a result of this without feeling like people will think I am exaggerating. Like. psychology wasn't lying that borderline personality traits can really borderline. It feels like I'm losing half of what made me myself. I felt while crying over this multiple times that without him I'd die and that I need him to live. For two years, my entire identity and reason for existing was him.

I don't know where to go from here. I haven't even talked about how this is affecting my boyfriend. Before I felt like I had a good grasp on what I was going to be doing in the next minutes or hours or even days but now I can't even imagine what ten seconds will be.

My entire brain is constantly screaming for him to come back, but I can't indulge in anything that doesn't support the guy because every time I see his face or hear his voice now my brain screams that he is repulsive.

The worst part is that over the last two years I have become so conditioned to never ever be angry at my boyfriend that I cannot feel any rage over this. In any normal circumstance I'd feel angry that someone had been hurt and their abuser had been allowed to escape the consequences for so long, but I can't. I can only feel like I need him, but I can't have him because he's tainted. I am so disgusted but I can't handle seeing anyone angry at him because I still love him and I still want him to be happy.

I feel really gross knowing that I've dedicated so much of my love to someone so terrible. I know my boyfriend feels like his skin has been tainted and I am struggling now to look at his face and focus on him in headspace because it's now all painted in a negative life. It's so awful because he has always loved being himself and has always felt so connected to his source, even as the time passed.

Part 3: so what's the point

I've spent most of this time feeling completely alone. I don't know anyone personally who could possibly feel the same way that I do.

I guess I just want anyone who reads this, who feels alone like I do, or feels like they're not reacting in the "right" way to understand that it's okay. You aren't alone. No matter how isolated you feel or like your problems are entirely unique to you, there is someone out there who understands. And also there's a very slim chance that you'll ever be more cringe than me.

The grieving process is ugly and it is agonizing. If anyone wants to DM me on this blog or another, to share anything they're thinking, like really anything at all there's a lot I didn't cover on this post, I will listen.

And to any introjects, I love you. We can make it through. We have survived so much worse. You don't have to be anybody but yourself. And be careful out there. If you become so mixed up in someone's source like we did, please plan an out. Don't make the same mistake I did and just assume it would all be fine forever. There's a very real chance it doesn't.

[frame-fr]

Fake scene of Justinian and Regulus' first meeting. I love them they are committing evil as I speak.

Written story and dragon versions below the cut!

I use their dragon depictions in lore. Since this is set to have happened a while ago, Regulus (sd) is in his earlier outfit (#2).

At the tavern he stayed in previously, when they heard Regulus was traveling to the Hewn City, they laughed in his face. They said he'd be dead by morning, that within the dense fog lay horrors that no dragon has ever survived. Annoyed at their laughter, Regulus simply dismissed the claims and set off toward the ruins. He had no business being there, but hunting ancient artifacts was the one thing he could do. Even years after the destruction of his family's reign, finding a goal in life when he was previously lacking one still proved hard - once Regulus had seen what dragons were capable of, how could he settle for something as mundane as happiness?

Alas, all of that thinking about the recreation of the world would once again come to rest in an empty, artifactless tomb. However, this day was different. It would appear the tomb was not as empty as Regulus originally thought.

Within the dusty depths, something stirred. A dark shaped moved - it was a dragon. The form of a wildclaw lifted itself from the shadows, it's spotted wings unfurling as it rose to it's full height. Lingering dust in the air filtered out any light from the entrance - the dragon was entirely in shadow except for the glinting gold from his jewelry and the shining light of his yellow eyes. Eyes which were turned directly toward Regulus. The skydancer took a cautious step back.

"And who might you be?" the dark wildclaw asked. His voice was deep, cold. It filled the room. He couldn't have been much larger than Regulus, but the sense of presence this stranger carried with him was so intense that the skydancer couldn't bring himself respond. The wildclaw walked a bit closer and added "You aren't of the sect. Are you perhaps a traveler? There's no need to hold your tongue."

Regulus still couldn't move, but he couldn't tell if his locked muscles were from fear or awe. The wildclaw was closer to the light now, closer to him. In the dust-filtered sunlight, Regulus could barely make out the dragon's appearance. The wildclaw's feathers were dark and he was adorned in jewelry from head to claw. This stranger didn't feel entirely... dragonlike - he was sinister, dangerous. It was as if the one before him wasn't a dragon at all, but some kind of deity whose tomb had been disturbed.

It was exactly what Regulus had been secretly hoping to find. His interest was piqued, and the very idea that he may have found his holy grail gave him the courage to finally speak.

"Regulus Iolanthe is my name. I am a..." he stopped for just a brief second. He hardly knew what he considered himself. "... I hunt for artifacts." The wildclaw raised an eyebrow at this, but Regulus couldn't stop himself from continuing. "May I... ask who you are?"

The wildclaw let out a small chuckle, "You needn't hesitate so much, Regulus. Let's do away with formalities... Simply call me Justinian." He stepped ever closer, and his golden jewelry shimmered in the dim light with every movement. "Your search interests me, Regulus. Just what sort of artifacts are you searching for?"

Hearing his own name uttered by this imposing dragon, by this Justinian, sent a shiver down Regulus' spine. Though he couldn't explain why, he was no longer frightened. In fact, he was emboldened. Although he'd always hid the real reason for his search from others, he felt that this new acquaintance would understand him far better than any other dragon could.

Regulus spoke with confidence. "I wish to bring about the end of the world, but I can't do it myself. There must be some ancient implement that could help me."

After a brief period of thought, Justinian's face twisted into a dark smile that revealed his sharp white teeth. "What an interesting desire," he mused. With one swift movement, Justinian suddenly closed in to where the two dragons' faces weren't even a foot apart. Regulus started to pull away, but he stopped himself when he saw Justinian's expression - there was neither malice nor mockery. Justinian's golden eyes, so close, were alight when he said "Searching in these ruins is a fool's errand. Our stars have aligned - how would you like to usher in my era as a new God?"

With that question, Justinian reached out his hand for Regulus to take it. The hand was darkened with scutes and long claws at the end - it resembled a bird's talons more than the hand of a wildclaw. It truly was Regulus' dream to create a new world, but he'd never considered that he didn't have to do it alone. He slowly, slowly, lifted his hand and put it into Justinian's waiting claws. Together they would achieve what neither could do on his own.

[not-xpr-art]

Art deep dive #3 - How important are the "rules" of art?

Hi!

So it's been a longgg time since I did one of these, but I've recently noticed something in the way people talk about art online today, especially the idea of 'art rules', that I've found interesting so... let's talk about it!

(just fyi this is a series where I ramble about art-y things and pretend I know what I'm talking about lol)

How important are the "rules" of art? ~

If you're an artist you've probably heard some version of the phrase 'you need to learn the rules in art in order to break them'. Effectively this refers to learning the basics of art like anatomy, colour theory or perspective before you completely do away with them to create something stylised, deconstructive or even abstract! Even beyond this particular idea, I hear so many artists online (as well as in school) talk about the importance of learning the 'art rules'.

And to some extent, I agree with this sentiment! I think you need to have some understanding of how to draw things, and more specifically knowing why we draw things certain ways. An example of this is the 'don't use black in shadows' rule, which is referring to the fact that there are no true black shadows in nature, and using other colours as shadows can keep your work from looking too 'flat'. And despite me knowing this, I have definitely used black as shadows in my work, especially when I want to create some intense chiaroscuro or drama! But I know that when I want to create something realistic, using black in the shadows would probably be a bad idea lol!

But the thing is... What do I actually mean when I say 'art rules'?

Who decides what rules make up the way things should be drawn/painted/sculpted/etc and why should we follow them in the first place?

There's certainly a set of rules for how to draw things in particular styles (as in, if you want realism you probably need to follow some specific proportions lol), but those don't apply to all forms of art! Similarly when it comes to something like colour theory, there are colours that will help you create a harmonious work, but that isn't always relevant!

Abstract and conceptual art (amongst others) are forms that don't necessarily require a sense of balance or even artistic integrity. Much of the last century of art history was specifically about throwing away the old ideas of how art 'should' look and be made. The Dadaists and works like the 'Ready Mades' of people like Duchamp challenged the idea of 'art rules', and as chagrin as I am to agree with anything Duchamp has ever done, it WAS effective in completely reshaping the art world.

So we know that much of art doesn't have to rely on art rules. However, when I look at the online art community, and even my own experiences within art education, there seems to be a return to the idea of 'learn the rules first, break them later'. Those rules being the things I mentioned earlier (proportions, anatomy, perspective, colour theory, etc), things that make up the basic art education that's been taught in art schools for hundreds of years.

Except... I haven't really answered the who or why have I lol?

There's obviously no one individual guy who one day was like 'I'm gonna make up some art rules for people to follow until the end of time!', but rather the things we now consider the 'basics' of art can mostly be traced back to Antiquity (as in Ancient Greece). And I do consider it integral to say that the things that are globally seen as 'art rules' are things that have specific origins in Western countries of Art History.

It's no great secret that the History of Art has a racism problem, and the fact that the majority of artists considered part of the 'canon', and the ones who were venerated and taught as part of art education for many years are white men from western and central Europe...

Art from other continents don't always have the same ideas of 'art rules', and when these were first introduced to Europe, they were written off as 'naïve' and 'primitive' because they didn't conform to the European idea of 'art'. And in a way I think that this (obviously) racist ideology has fed into our current concept of 'art rules' pretty much entirely revolving around Western standards of art (which usually positions realism above all else, with the significance and symbolism of art become less important).

Let's next tackle the 'why' of art rules. I've already mentioned why you would follow rules in a practical sense, but beyond that is there any reason for following these 'art rules'? I think fundamentally it all comes down to what we consider the purpose of a particular work of art. If your goal with a piece is specifically about creating a realistic work, then it definitely makes sense that you would follow them. But art that is more instinctual or personal, or art that is abstract, or even art that is pattern/purely aesthetic based, all have very different intentions for their creation.

So why, in 2023, do so many artists (and art schools) still push this idea that art has a rigid set of rules that you have to learn, and only once you've learnt them can you then completely disregard them? Rules that we know stem from European art history and also only apply to a certain sort of art. I think in a way it all comes down to a way to quantify what 'good' and 'bad' art looks like. If there are really no rules, and you don't need to have basic understandings of anatomy or perspective in order to be an artist, then I think to some people it means that can no longer say that in order to be an artist you need to put in a certain amount of 'effort'.

In conclusion... Is there even a conclusion to this lol?

Personally, I think that there's definitely value in learning the Western ideas of art rules that we consider the 'basics' (things like anatomy, perspective, etc) if you want to improve your realistic drawing skills, but don't think you need to learn everything about art rules in order to become some accomplished or 'real' artist lol

Art is first and foremost about creativity and expression, so really just have fun with it!

~

I hope you enjoyed this mini (informal) essay! I actually haven't written one of these deep dives for over 2 years lol!

Btw, let me know your thoughts on this and whether you agree with it lol!

If you liked this feel free to check out those other one, or my art advice tag (where I attempt to give advice to beginner artists lol...)

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

There is none of Evelynn’s usual bravado as she enters his office. Instead, she is uncharacteristically deflated; her head that hangs just slightly lower than normal, a certain pain that swells in her gaze. Even her moments are languid, crossing the room at what could be described as an agonizing pace.

And yet she still says nothing, fingers that twitch, ever tempted to claw the sleeves off her own arms. She all but falls into the chair that’s before Robin’s desk, a shell of the demon she’s so feared as.

Silence continues to hang on, hardly a filler for the space between them. A glimmer of something that briefly shines in her gaze, as she finally dares to look up at him. To show the puffiness that holds about, the red tint to her eyes, ever a contrast to the golden hues. Though lips part, it is silence once again that consumes the air.

A singular heavy breath, ever so shaky. Not so steady. Nothing like her.

“Do…” her voice trails off, frail. Emotional. “Do you doubt the … love I show others?”

═══ UNPROMPTED INTERACTIONS ═══ MODERN VERSE

"Good afternoon, Miss Evelynn! I take it you finally had a moment off-"

The tremble within her sigh catches his attention, holding it like a vice grip as his work suddenly becomes meaningless within the presence of someone he loves so deeply. Someone he cares for so intensely and who is upset. Pale brows stitched together as the words fluttered from her lips, a tone in which he has only heard a few times within his life - pained, emotional, vulnerable in a way he knows no one (except perhaps, Miss Akali) has seen. Robin watches her for a long moment, staring and taking in how small she seems, who had done this to her? Without thinking, or care of consequences, he stands up from his desk to be beside her, taking a knee before her as if she were some sort of diety.

"You saved my life. You gave me a home, a job, support, the ability to meet the person I love more than anything... You have always been there for me, and," his hands take both of hers, curling his fingers around her palms like a safety net, "You have never once betrayed or hurt me-- you're my family." Robin's wintry lashes fall low as he speaks, bringing her knuckles to his lips for a kiss that achoes nought but purity and innocence, a quiet love shared between them both. Plush lips pull from her knuckles while that verdant gaze lifts to meet hers, his expression holds no insecurity - no question for the words he's relaying.

"I know how difficult it is for you to love, how many walls you have and how desperately you try to stop people from climbing over them; because once they do, you'll love them for eternity." A smile, serene and blessed by the afternoon light trickling through his office window, the ray catches the larimar of his earring, twinkling.

"I have never once doubted the way you feel about me, Miss Akali, Miss Ahri and Miss Kai'sa. I love you, Miss Evelynn, and I know you love me, you never have to doubt that...and it will always be so."

[saintsenara]

just read the entirety of one year in every ten in a single setting - amazing stuff! all of these wip's sound fantastic!

for the ask game, your choice - which ones are you most excited by that haven't already been answered? 😊

thank you so much, anon! what better motivation is there to finish editing the next chapter of one year in every ten?

[work-in-progress game here]

i've picked four from the list:

the war of the roses

is the classic sirius black/severus snape bonanza:

sirius actually listens to snape and doesn't go to the department of mysteries; is then intrigued; shouts at snape until the shouting turns into kissing; and realises, by the time his old enemy is crying on the floor having killed dumbledore, that he might be a little bit in love.

the battle currently waging within me is whether to give it a happy ending [profoundly unrealistic, given these two] or for it to all end in tragedy.

but i think i'd quite like them to live happily-ish ever after.

fortune favours the bold

james potter dies. when he wakes up he's eleven again.

i capture the castle

is giving me grief.

my intention is for it to be sixth year from hermione's perspective, but i can't quite get the voice right. i'll be honest that i don't love hermione as a character in the books - although at least she's interesting; airbrushed, unnuanced fanon!hermione brings me out in hives - so finding an interpretation that feels true is proving a bit of a challenge...

mightier than any wizard living

an ask from @broomsticks here has got me thinking about my canon-compliant-except-for-the-binary-gender-swap rise-of-voldemort fic again, and i've done some work on it over the past week.

structurally, we're in our louis de bernières era, with the chapters presenting various characters' first-person perspectives, interspersed with documents, historical context etc. at the moment, it is my intention to never have voldemort's first-person pov - only omniscient third-person narration. she's a mystery, her life pieced together by everyone else.

have an excerpt, from the testimony of one philomena cole:

Mrs Dolan had me cleaning past eight that evening, with just a bit of bread and dripping for tea. Then she made me sit with her in the parlour, crocheting and listening to her whine on like a motor about the ‘state of this country’ and the ‘sort of tarts who get themselves knocked up and keep this orphanage full’. She reckoned that was a treat for me, you know. I suppose it was, in the same way that dying instantly from being hit by a bus is a treat compared to dying slowly in agony. 

The knock came at quarter to ten. I hoped it was just carol singers or charity collectors. Mrs Dolan would tell them to sling their hooks and that would be that. But I knew it wasn’t. You always knew, at Wool’s, when you heard a knock like that. There were a thousand words in that knock. It was the way desperate girls knocked when they were about to have a baby.  

‘Here we go, then,’ Mrs Dolan said, hauling herself up from her armchair, ‘no rest for the wicked.’

I heard her trudging down the stairs, and then she bellowed from the hall. ‘Philomena, come here now!’

So I was down in a flash, the orphans watching me from their doorways as I went. 

This girl, no older than twenty, was staggering along the hallway, with Mrs Dolan’s arm around her waist. I know this isn’t very charitable of me, but she was the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. She had this dull, colourless hair, which was plastered to her face with sleet and sweat, a pale, heavy face, and a harelip. She was thin as a rail, apart from the bump, and wrapped in rags.

I remember thinking later that she must have known she was dying, and she’d come to us wrapped in her own shroud. 

She didn’t make a sound for the whole labour. That was something I never saw before. She just lay there, in her own blood, on the table in the infirmary where we brought all the desperate girls.

She wasn’t even in labour for an hour before the baby appeared. Even with everything that happened later, I’ll never forget how relieved I was when she screamed, and she was strong and healthy and pink. I thought she’d die. That’s how it usually went when the mothers were skin-and-bone and barely out of childhood and there was no father to be seen anywhere. But this baby wanted to live, which was good - you needed a will to live in a place like Wool’s. 

‘He’s a fighter,’ I remember the girl said. She had a very funny accent. Sort of hissy. ‘I knew he would be. His papa fought me until the end.’

‘Yes, a fighter,’ I said, trying to staunch her bleeding, while Mrs Dolan wrapped the baby in a blanket.

‘I hope he looks like his papa.’

She was right to hope it.

‘He won’t look like anything,’ said Mrs Dolan, placing the baby on her chest. ‘This is your daughter.’

The girl didn’t seem to understand. She just lay there, not even reaching out for the baby. That was odd too, normally even the girls who were dying tried to hold their babies.  

‘I want… name him… Marvolo… after my… dad…’ she said, ‘his father…surname…Riddle…’

‘We can’t very well call a baby girl Marvolo,’ said Mrs Dolan. ‘What sort of a name is that?’

But the girl said nothing. She didn’t have enough blood left in her.

The clock struck midnight and it was 1927, and I was holding the baby. She was silent, staring at the corpse of her mother. God, just thinking about that gives me the shivers. She looked so alert, so shrewd. Newborns don’t usually, you know.

‘Well, here you are then,’ I said to her eventually, ‘this is where you’ll be growing up.’

‘We can’t call her Marvolo,’ said Mrs Dolan

‘But it seemed so important to the poor thing,’ I said. I was always soft like that. If any girls came in and wanted their baby given a doll they’d bought when they thought they were going to live and raise the kid with its dad, all happy families, I used to do it, and I’d cry when I tucked it into the cot.  

‘That’s beside the point,’ said Mrs Dolan. ‘Who’s going to take on a secretary called Marvolo? Who’s going to marry a girl named Marvolo?’

‘She said it was her dad’s name.’

‘He was probably a gypsy. It sounds like a gypsy name.’

‘We could use it as a middle name. Something Marvolo Riddle. That just sounds a bit foreign. Italian, you know?’

‘If you insist.’

‘It just seemed so important to her.’

‘Maybe this Riddle will come looking for the baby. She did seem very insistent on the surname.’

‘I hope so.’

‘Very well,’ said Mrs Dolan. ‘Call her Something Marvolo Riddle. Just make sure the "something" is a nice, respectable name. The sort of thing a decent girl would have.’

[maguro13-2]

The Dark Beginnings RETOLD ~ Origins of the Ink Chapter 0 Pt.6 ~

*At Angel Island/Mystic Ruins*

[Unknown From M.E Ver.1 by Kenichi Tokoi & Marlon Saunders]

Knuckles : Once again, After stopping the Space Colony ARK from falling into earth, And...It's been around 5 years since SEGA was beaten by sony with their incredible and newest to this generation, the playstation of course. But this still the Dreamcast Era, and now our games like Sonic Adventure has retracing the incident on the gamecube as Sonic DX. Speaking of Consoles, I haven't seen Eggman's face around 8 years since I met the boys back in the day.

*Looks at a photo of him and the Chaotix*

Knuckles : Just look at them, how I remember the old days that I finally got my own game, it was the only game to have a continuity when me and the boys were infiltrating some kind area where Eggman creates a park of his own called Newtrogic High? Newtrogic High...That's the name of that place that he built on Isolated Island. Although, 5 years later, now that Chaos rejuvenated with Tikal and the Space Colony ARK is in place, except for the moon which mysteriously rebuild by some kind of power. At least, nobody would notice that the Chaos Emeralds are still in place.

*QUACK*

*notices that the Chaos Emeralds are missing from the shrine*

Knuckles : Wh...Where the heck are the Chaos Emeralds!? Well at least the Master Emerald is safe and sound. What's this note?

*Read the note and looks at it*

"Dear Knucklehead, I have taken the Chaos Emeralds and placed them in the special stages within all seven areas and locking them away with a Special Stage Key. But if you want to retrieve the Seven Chaos Emeralds, you must special stages keys for me! See if you can outsmart that, Knuckles! Signed by yours truly, Doctor Ivo. Robotnik"

*Knuckles frown*

*RUMBLING+Steam whistling*

Knuckles: *looks up at the sky angrily* EGGMAAAAAAN!!!

*Eggman is echoed*

*flock of birds flying*

*Scene changes to Tails' Workshop*

[Satellite by Heigo Tani/Wall5 Project]

Tails : Almost done. A little more screws to the top, and...perfect.

Knuckles : D'ohhh! I can't believe I have to get those emeralds back from the special stages If I ever see Eggman's face again.

"KNUCKLES THE ECHIDNA...MASTER EMERALD GUARDIAN!"

*finishes fixing the Tornado III*

Tails : Hey, Knuckles, Long time no see.

Knuckles : Hey, Tails! How's the Tornado III doing?

Tails : *slides out from under* It's fine, Knuckles. Just needs a proper tuning that's all. It has been only two years since we stopped the Space Colony ARK from falling. Sonic's busy of finding Eggman is pretty hard, things at San Francisco had been really boastful since the man of the year incident back in 97.

Knuckles : Do you have any idea where Eggman is?

Tails : No we have not. He hasn't been shown or seen anyone but himself, but I think that announcement he made could be very suspicious. We might get sonic on the line and get a look of this announcement.

"MILES TAILS PROWER... SONIC'S LONG TIME SIDEKICK"

Tails : Although the Dreamcast Era is still living, but didn't we heard from something? Since we're in this new show we call it Sonic X, it's gonna be mainstream on the world, and it's going contracted...to 4Kids?

Knuckles : Oh really? Did you remember anything back in 1995?

Tails : Oh that? I had to chase some hooligans that were on the rails.

*flashback to Tails Sky Patrol*

Tails : I was chasing a bunch of bad guys in mine carts back in my days.

*changes to Tails Adventure*

Tails : And then in my other days, I fight off against ducks or birds that were invading the island.

*flashback ends*

Tails : Those were the good old days, but now, those days have been changed since we defeated the Doll. Have you heard the recent news, it appears that players or fans started to bring Character Chao on the Gamecube, Adventure 1 & 2 is handing out the Knuckles Chao and Amy Chao from the promotional demo discs at events. Tiny Chao Garden is where three character-based chao were downloaded from Tiny Chao Garden from the dreamcast and of course the new Sonic Advance games.

Knuckles : But still...Didn't you mentioned about the one with two tails?

Tails : Two tailed what?

Knuckles : You know a chao with two tails.

Tails : Hold up, you mean...the Tails Chao?

*thinking cloud shows the Tails Chao*

Tails : Oh...That Chao. I won't mention it.

Knuckles : Yeah, I wonder how did it manage to come so real? How did the Tail Chao became so famous?

Tails : Well...It only happened back in 2002...

*Flashback to 2002*

Tails : I was using my GBA to get a chao from that RPG game that Yuji Naka made called Phantasy Star Online?

Knuckles : Ph-Ph-Phantasy Star?

Tails : You don't remember that name, Knuckles? Phantasy Star was the name of that RPG franchise that Yuji Naka before the start of our debut. They were known to be one of the company's best franchises from all of Japan that ever existed in the industry, but following a six year gap...they disappeared without a sudden traced until they started to come back with online called Phantasy Star Online, also known as PSO. It has been one of the fascinating games ever to exist with online features and proclaims to be Sonic Team's very first MMMORPG after Burning Rangers.

Knuckles : Oh what didn't I think of that? Seems fair to me, We had an collaboration with those guys 3 years ago.

*flashback ends*

Knuckles : It was good times, man. Good times.

Tails : Hey, knuckles. Do you mind finding the special stage keys that scattered throughout the world?

Knuckles : Well, no. But they are everywhere...Hmm? Still regarding if those ghosts were out to lurk out at night in the pyramid. They thought we haven't heard recent news from Shadow's death?

Tails : Shadow? But he died in 2001 right before Nine eleven happens. The Mashimaverse would not be infected with a holiday like that despite by humanity's arrogance, shadow did have a hatred with humans for their accusations after G.U.N was being jeered by the public for the actions they caused and for putting a price on Sonic's head.

Knuckles : Maybe it was the secretary of defense that is responsible for the outcome.

Tails : Could be, however...the secretary defense of the United Federation was arrested for abusing G.U.N's power and making a mess at San Francisco, in early retirement. It was his "acting alone" thing that he made G.U.N mistaken for Sonic instead of Shadow, which he was put a price on their heads and including us as well.

Knuckles : So what happened to the United Federation's Secretary of Defense?

Tails : Well, after Adventure 2, the secretary was kidnapped by Eggman's robots and this...this other Metal Sonic in a cloak wielding a scythe executed him by taking away his soul. Same goes to the warden of Prison Island in which was executed...by hanging to death. Oh wait a sec...The warden's dead after blew up Prison Island which was caused by Eggman himself. The other Metal Sonic knew that the island was a death trap orchestrated by him to rid of Sonic once and for all. Despite our meddling ways, we found out that the other Metal Sonic in a cloak isn't someone that you think of.

Knuckles : Kidnapped and executed? Who was punishing the humans and mobians for various crimes against others.

Tails : It was the Grim Reaper of Mobius, a mysterious figure in cloak wielding a powerful magic scythe. He is the Death God and observer to Planet Mobius that has kept an eye on this planet throughout time and space before Sonic's time. He was the master of the supernatural forces, he protected this planet from the deadly forces caused by the emeralds powers and he was granted a title as the God of Death to our world. But in any rate, he is know for forgiving people with respect dignity, but others who disrespect gets shunned and with eternal damnation, those that punished the damned were called sinners, sinners are those who committed their wrongdoings.

[Legends of Babylon by Fumie Kumatani]

Tails : Back before Angel Island was created, Grim was the first mobian to become their only God of Death worshiped by those who fulfills his destiny to bring justice to the sinners that committed their crimes against others. He made a friendly contact with the many tribes that respected and worshiped his powers to bring death to others that tried to destroy his destiny, but he was no match for them with the powers of his scythe. As by day and night, he used his incredible scythe to bring those to death and giving them divine judgement on the sinners and continues on protecting this planet from the clutches of the Ancients' old enemy, The End itself. That's what brought the Chaos Emeralds to Mobius in the first place. Grim himself prevent the Emeralds of destroying our with the positive and negative energy from the hearts and tasked a young angel from the heavens to place them in the dimension that are called the Special Stages.

Knuckles : So special Stages that we entered were dimensions only for to those that can take the challenge. It was the Grim reaper's test of whoever has positive or negative energy to hold the powers Emeralds in their hand.

Tails : Right, So we have no time to loose, But I wonder if Shadow was still dead or alive? We can meet up with Sonic true that!

*scene changes*

[We can plays]

*Sonic is shown running through the Desert*

*Tails and Knuckles are shown on the Tornado III*

Sonic : Yo Tails! Long time no see!

*SONIC THE HEDGEHOG...WORLD RENOWNED HERO"

Tails : Do you have to say that every time, Sonic?

Sonic : It's my catchphrase, we always say that.

Tails : anyways, here sonic, check this out. It's the Announcement that Eggman made.

Sonic : Annoucement?

Dr. Eggman : Hello, Sonic Heroes! I've developed the ultimate weapon that will be my latest achievement. In three days, I will conquer the world! Unfortunately, Since I'm not at my base, I'll handle my robots to do the extra hard work for me! Think you can stop me? *laughs evilly*

Sonic : Hmm. Sounds like an invitation, who would've thought that Eggman hasn't been shown since he made this annoucement.

Tails : So what are we gonna do, Sonic? This announcement that he made sounds like an invitation party to us.

Knuckles : Parties, you say? We got this one, we can take care of it.

Sonic : Haven't missed this one, time to crack that Eggman wide open! Yeah! Let's party!

*Tails and Knuckles hops off the Tornado and runs after Sonic*

Knuckles : Uhh, Tails, since we got off to find Eggman, who's flying the Tornado?

Tails : I just put it on Autopilot so it won't crash into anything.

Knuckles : Wait, what?

Tails : Yeah, I thought of that.

*Meanwhile at Eggman's Base*

Shadow : *in mind* Where am I? Who am I? I can't remember anything? Did I die in space? Where did I my death go? Who is this saving me?

Grim : Gladly that you are still alive after two moons ago. That sacrifice you made had to make you run out of rings so I brought you with my men.

Shadow : *in mind* Y...Your men? Who...who are you? Why did saved me from Death, who are you? What are you?

[Echo Night - Beyond OST : Track 8]

Grim : You'd still look down after being in a state of unconsciousness, so despite all of my efforts to keep everyone some certain deaths, I had no choice but to save you into losing all of your memories. That's why you died in the first place.

Shadow : *In mind* You mean...I am alive? Doctor! Rouge! HELP ME! HELP ME GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!

*Shadow is shown sleeping inside a pod*

Shadow : *In mind* OH GOD! SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF HERE!

*Omega awakens*

*Scene goes pitch black*

Omega : MUST DESTROY ALL EGGMAN ROBOTS.

*cues Martin Mystery Title Card*

Announcer : RETURN OF THE ULTIMATE LIFE FORM!

~ Event 5 : A Grim Fated Return ~

[khushiwrites]

The Freeing of Anxiety - Story 1

It was from my mother that I learnt to love wholly. To be so giving and to be so kind. So I put his needs much above my own and surrendered to all his requests. Blindly, I gave in to all his wishes. Our love was a tale as old as time and as cliche as a timeless classic romance with a modern twist. From strangers to lovers and to strangers once more. I still remember the day he’d left. The morning sky, studded with clouds so dark, even the heavens were mourning the demise of us. He left me with three very precious yet lethal things. First was my broken heart. Second, his mother’s ruby embellished dagger. I chuckled at the symbolism. The last was not so lethal, but pain bearing nonetheless. A seed of our love, that would eventually grow into a beautiful twenty year old that I know and love, Evelyn. 

Bright sparks, namely the rays of the sun, seep into the room as the curtains flutter. Evelyn and I shared a studio apartment in central Brooklyn. The hustle and bustle of New York City was getting on my nerves, you’d assume I would be used to it living in this city for 15 years, but you’d be very wrong. As I awake, I scan the apartment. Bare walls, bare counters, everything was packed up and ready to go. Everything except one. I’d left the infamous dagger for the last day. Sitting on the kitchenette table, lied the crimson encrusted piece of blade, still within it’s untouched glass box. I look back at Evelyn, sleeping soundly on the queen sized bed, her auburn hair like paint, splattered around the white pillow. The space was just enough to fit the two of us. We had been left in a dump after Evelyn’s dad bailed on us. I spent nearly five years in a community hostel due to barely being able to afford much, until finally I was able to save up enough money to rent a decent studio apartment in Brooklyn. We have not seen or heard from him since his disappearance, seven months before the birth of my little angel. To me, the man is dead. 

It was from my mother that I learnt that nothing ever comes free. Everything has a price. What goes around, comes around and karma will never leave anyone alone. With this thought relaxing me, I take the usual subway down to the Salvation Army in which I work. Walking around on the old linolium flooring and spotting various junk that once meant something to people being displayed on a shelf for someone else to own and enjoy is a reinforcement of this calming ideology. Just like the meaningful junk that Victor was, so is the dagger he loaned me. It’s ironic that he was to be named Victor. However, today is my liberation. Today, as I stand at the back of the counter of this thrift store, handing the dagger to a girl who seems smitten by the colour of it, by not taking anything in return for it, I set my anxiety free.