#with the circling thorny vines and what not

[gurdis]

I was up late at night and I decided to draw a dark world Flowey cause I was thinking about @akanemnon and their Twin Rune thingy ma bobber

[icysnails]

Hello. I was wondering if you could you write a platonic angst story where the reader is Blade's child. I was thinking that because Blade barely spends any time with the reader unless it's during one of their extremely harsh training sessions the reader decides to run away especially after one particularly rough training session where the reader was injured after they accidentally talked back and that night the reader starts packing their stuff but they accidentally left behind their late mother's pendant and Blade found it the next morning. (I hope you're okay with writing this and I wish you a good morning, afternoon or good night ☺️)

Family.

A/n: Hello Anon!! Thank you for your request!! I am so sorry this took so long- school + extracurriculars started so I had way less time to work on writing outside of school (TvT) But this was so much fun to write! I got a little bit carried away and it ended up being a found family type thing with all of the Stellaron Hunters– I tried to focus on Blade being a father figure as much as possible though! I hope you have a fantastic day, and I hope you enjoy!! ૮꒰ ˶• v •˶꒱ა ♡

Warnings: all relationships are platonic, found family trope, betrayal, suicidal ideation (Blade), mentions of death, reader's parents are dead, flashbacks, reader runs away, mention of bullets + broken glass, overthinking, Blade being insecure, reader uses a sword, reader gets injured a couple of times (If i forgot anything, please let me know!!)

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Pairing: father figure!Blade x gn!child!reader (PLATONIC), mother figure!Kafka x gn!child!reader (PLATONIC), sister figure!Silver Wolf x gn!child!reader (PLATONIC)

Word count: 7.3k

Blade is a cruel man. 

There is no love in the red pools of his irises, no signs of any humanity. Dark circles adorn the skin just below his merciless stare, eyebrows slightly furrowed in an eternal state of aggravation. It was no wonder enemies cowered at the mere mention of him. He holds nothing back, and if an enemy was unfortunate enough to meet the steely edge of his sword, they were sure to be broken and lifeless by the end of the encounter. Unfortunately, he isn’t much different off of the battlefield either. 

Blade is bitter and selfish and cold, to the extreme that even Kafka and Silverwolf are convinced that he has forgotten how to feel.

The thorns of the mara in his veins torment him constantly, the pain never faltering, even after decades. The other Stellaron Hunters had begun to wonder if those thorny, agonizing vines had punctured through his heart as well. It would be understandable, to an extent. After all, he is a man who has experienced endless with suffering and loss, his mind poisoned with grief and the sole desire to die. No more pain, no more fighting, just darkness- the mere thought was enough to drag a bitter smile out of him.

He was used to the dark, used to feeling like an empty vessel. 

But why, if he was so familiar with agony, would he impose that same feeling on you as well? 

You had always been alone. You were only a toddler when your parents were taken from you, the only proof of their existence being a necklace your mother left with you before she died. You had spent your youngest years void of any parental guidance, hopelessly wandering between foster homes and planets, hoping someone would take you in. You gave that up by age ten, running away from your home planet to travel the galaxy. From that point on, most of your time was spent sneaking onto Starskiffs, hiding in empty cargo compartments on any moving vehicle you could find, and even stealing authorization keys to search occupied space stations, all in search of someone whom you could call family. 

But what exactly did the word family mean?

You always thought it was a strange word. It had such a subjective meaning, yet it was talked about so often. You didn’t understand what it meant, and no textbook definition could help you. All your efforts to find its meaning were in vain. And yet, your curiosity haunted you. 

With every new destination, the word family buzzed among the crowds constantly. No matter where you had landed yourself, all you could do was spectate. You watched as children laughed and clung to the legs of their guardians, as relatives sobbed in unified grief over flower dressed gravestones, and as teenagers linked arms with each other, growing away from the protective grasps of their parents. 

Every planet you traveled to, every dragging, lonely step you took, that sickening, seemingly joyous word that made you feel so isolated was there.

Six months after you had ran away, you went out alone to buy food. It was late at night, and you were preparing to head off to another planet the next day. Luckily, you bumped into a nice shopkeeper earlier who gave you some extra credits because she thought your coat was cool (in reality, she was just worried about you wandering off all alone, but didn't want to pry about your parents' whereabouts). So, you headed out amongst the crowds as you always did, pouch of credits in hand and determination plastered on your face.

But a woman stopped you on the way there and asked why such a young child was wandering around alone at night. She had a little girl with her, who looked no older than you. 

She asked you if you had any family she could call to come and get you, with the assumption that you were lost. You couldn't say anything. Instead, you just stared, your wide-eyed gaze pinned on the child that almost mirrored you. Almost. Perhaps if the world were kinder, your eyes could have donned the same innocent, joyful light. One of her hands was encased by her mother’s, while her other hand kindly reached out towards you. A cheerful “hello!” rang through the air as she tried to shake your hand. 

You stepped away from her. It was hard to breathe. You had seen all this before. Yet why was it so painful this time? 

Internally, you demanded the Aeons to tell you why the truth of your situation had to be rubbed in your face so blatantly. You were alone. You wondered if it might be good to explain that to them, to create some kind of connection with these people, but no words would leave your throat. Your heart felt like it was splintered in two.

You didn’t know how long you stood there staring, but you were sure the devastation tearing you up inside was evident on your face. The woman called out to you one more time, her worry falling on deaf ears as you backed away slowly. You took one more look at the girl before turning on your heel and running as fast as you could, sobs wracking your chest so deeply it hurt. 

You hadn’t returned to that planet since then.

You wanted the life that little girl had. You wanted to have a guardian.

But as the years went on, nothing changed. Your travels continued, and you came to terms with the fact that you might never know what family felt like. You made acquaintances as you traveled, friends, even. They never stuck around for long, though. The darkness always swallowed them up one way or another. And with every loss, the painful void in your chest numbed and steeled over a little more.

You thought that your life would always be this way. In truth, you had forgotten that there was any other way to live.

However, that was before a certain group of Stellaron Hunters swept you away from your life of solitude, and recruited you into their dangerous yet thrilling world. 

A year later, you found yourself on a sand covered planet. You were on a train, heading to one of the planets' larger cities from a smaller town. There wasn’t any way you walk- it was too hot and the distance was too far. Otherwise, you would have spent your savings on something other than train tickets.

The trip was uneventful and for most of it you just stared blankly out the window, exhaustion and boredom settling in your bones. You were tired from running errands for the previous town's residents- it was onerous but it happened to pay well. Though you were happy to have a break, your mind wasn’t used to the quiet. The barren landscape outside did nothing to help. It was a dry, flat expanse that was dotted only with dead weeds and the scraps of broken automatons. In short, nothing of interest.

Aside from that, all was going well. You had enough credits to last you at least six more train rides and get food and extra supplies, and you had several acquaintances with whom you could stay in the next city. You made a point not to talk about your budgeting skills, as it would usually spur a torrent of questions from whoever you were talking to. You couldn’t blame them though, children your age typically didn’t devote themselves to a life of aimless travel. 

The train stopped right on time, and you stepped onto the platform that was crowded with people. As usual, you were met with the sight of teary-eyed relatives hugging each other, children running around and playing, and couples greeting each other. You kept your head down, feeling more inconvenienced than sad. In their excitement, the crowds always seemed to block your path to the other platforms. Besides, they say time heals all wounds, so why would you care, anyway? You awkwardly shoved your way toward a nearby stairwell, grunting as several people bumped into you. Just as your fingers made contact with the stair’s banister, ear shattering sirens echoed throughout the station.

Emergency lights flashed on and off in a blinding rhythm, the red glow engraining itself into your mind. Suddenly, pixelated bullets flew towards the ceiling, shattering several of the glass panels. Screams rang out in response, and the previously happy crowd flew into a panic, ducking to avoid the broken glass. However, the glass shards evaporated into more pixels before they could hit the crowd, preventing any damage from being done.

Amidst the swarms of people trying to escape, you cautiously walked closer to the source of the commotion. You really shouldn’t have, but the nagging curiosity in the back of your mind compelled you to do so. And even if it seemed dangerous, there was something off about this incident. After all, if the initiators were out for blood, wouldn’t they have attacked the crowd directly? If whoever caused this wasn't intending to cause harm, they must be looking for something.

As you got closer, you saw three figures: A magenta haired woman with lightless eyes, a pistol in one hand, and a glowing thread of purple silk in the other. She was leaning back against one of the platform’s pillars, watching the whole scene with fake amusement. The second person you saw was a smaller girl decked out in a myriad of purples and blues, her drill style ponytail swaying as she typed up coordinates on a hologram screen. And lastly, you saw a red eyed man with a glare so sharp it made your heart sink. You certainly did not want to be subject to whatever rage he had stored away. From the looks of it, he could kill you in a split second.

For some reason, all three of them seemed familiar. You couldn't quite place it, but you quickly realized, you knew who they were. Their faces were plastered on all of the IPC’s wanted posters, which were scattered on literally every planet you had been to so far. You couldn’t remember their names exactly, but you knew that, together, they were known as the Stellaron Hunters- the universe’s most wanted criminals. You should have recognized them from the pixelated bullets earlier- how could you have been so naive?

You could have tried to run, but it would be futile. You were already out in the open, and they had already seen you.

Your eyes widened in sheer panic as the man dressed in black set his gaze on your shaking form. There was no way you’d survive this encounter. Absolutely zero chance. He stepped toward you but was interrupted by the sound of a clanging of a spear. The station’s security officers surrounded the Stellaron Hunters, demanding that they freeze and turn themselves in immediately.

You covered your ears and ducked as a fight broke out, the Stellaron Hunters throwing themselves into battle. Your eyelids were screwed shut in fear until the sounds of fighting had ceased. When you opened your eyes, you looked up to see that all of the guards had been knocked out, and that the taller woman standing above you, watching you in a way that was eerie, yet... comforting somehow. Even so, your better judgment caused you to back away, frantically scrambling on the hot cement of the platform. The red eyed man yanked you to your feet before you could stand up, and a panicked noise left your throat as he dragged you toward his two companions. you caught a glimpse of his sword that was poised in his other hand, taking note that he was ready to strike if necessary.

“It’s a kid.” He grumbled, still glaring at you. 

The tall woman chuckled and took a step forward, observing the way you struggled to get out of her companion’s grasp. You were getting more anxious by the second, she could tell. No matter how strong and collected you acted, you were still just a kid, and you had the minimal strength of one.

“Let them go, Blade. I don’t think they mean any harm.”

Small, scared breaths left your throat as you were released, your shaking legs failing to hold you up. You fell to the ground, staring in shock at all that had occurred. What would have happened if they didn’t let you go? How much danger were you really in, and how the hell were you still alive?

Then, the monotone voice of the grey haired girl met your ears. 

“What a waste. Looks like those signals were nothing but a glitch.” She sighed. “There's nothing for us here.”

The scary man who grabbed you- Blade, as the woman called him- looked down at you crumpled form, eyes softening just the tiniest bit. Your fearful gaze met his, and you didn’t dare move. The two other hunters made conversation about their next moves in the background, while Blade narrowed his eyes coldly.

“Why aren’t you running?”

…What?

“Go. Lingering here will only bring you suffering”

Your fearful gaze then turned to one of confusion. It was unclear if his words were meant to be a warning or advice. Either way, it gave you the strength to pull yourself off the ground and attempt to respond, but all that came out of you was a strangled groan. Your body hurt, and everything had happened so fast that your mind was still trying to catch up. It wasn’t that you were trying to make an impression by staying, you just couldn’t bring yourself to run because of the adrenaline coursing through you. You hunched over and placed your hands on your knees to get your bearings. After a few minutes, you finally responded.

“Y- yeah, I… uh…” You hesitated, unsure of what to say. “...I have another train to catch...?” 

It came out like a question, which was unintended. It was the truth, but you were so nervous that you would say something wrong and provoke him. Your life may have been spared for the moment, but they could still change their minds, and you didn't want to re-dig your own grave.

The man beside you let out a small sigh before turning his gaze back to his two companions.

“Fine.” He muttered.

A few moments passed with you and Blade sitting in comfortable silence. or, it was comfortable him, at least. He was still and silent, ignoring you entirely. You just kept fidgeting the whole time, unsure if you should stay or run for the hills. It was borderline suffocating. thankfully, the tall woman came over again, ending your misery.

“Well, we’re off.” She said to Blade, prompting him to walk towards the edge of the platform where the smaller girl stood. Before walking off, she turned to you one last time. 

“Take it easy, kid.”

Something in your heart screamed at you to speak up. A strange urge began eating away at you, telling you that if you didn’t do something right now you’d regret it for the rest of your life. But do what? What could you do without potentially dying? It was stupid. And dangerous.

But that old feeling of longing, that desire to be a part of something wouldn’t leave you alone. Your desperation to attain a family of your own had been reawakened. Your undying hope, which laid dormant for years, was now ruling your judgment.

Just as they turned to leave, you stumbled forward and cried out.

“Wait!”

All three heads turned towards you. 

A purple set of eyes knowingly scanned you as you trembled, a smirk growing on the woman’s face. 

You anxiously gripped at your clothing, trying to summon up the courage to put on some kind of brave face for them. Before you think, pleas for them to take you with them were spilling from your throat. You told them that you wanted to see the universe and that if they gave you that opportunity, you’d do whatever you could to assist them. It was a partial lie- exploring the universe did sound fun, but it wasn't what you were truly after. Your true motivations were far too personal to tell them just yet. It felt like a wound had unexpectedly reopened ever since they arrived, and you were sure you’d crumble if you forced yourself to explain.

Luckily, you didn’t have to. You had the strangest feeling that they already knew your story to some extent. Even without the influence of your longing, you couldn’t deny that it was the opportunity of a lifetime. It wasn’t every day that you came across three highly skilled fighters who could quickly travel anywhere they wanted. You could save years worth of credits and injuries if you went with them.

Once you had finished your frantic explanation, you took a breath to calm your pounding heart. The silence you were met with was deafening, which you took to be a bad sign. A deep chuckle reverberated through the elegant woman’s chest as she took a decisive step closer to you. She hummed in amusement, holding her hand out for you to take.  

“You may not be crucial to our mission,” she leaned down to your height, voice almost a whisper, “but if that’s what you want, then who are we to disagree?”

You took her hand, heartbeat slowing to a calm pace as you did so.

The days you spent with the Stellaron hunters were some of the most peaceful days you had ever experienced. 

You weren’t constantly slinking around trying to find information and resources for your travels, and it was the first time you had slept in a room that had officially been dubbed as your own. You weren't hopping between inns and the homes of your few friends. Even expenses weren't an issue anymore. It felt strange to have time on your hands. Guilt inducing, even.

You didn’t get too caught up in that though, since the confusion and questions plaguing your mind happened to be stronger than your melancholy. It was beyond your understanding how three of the most dangerous criminals in the entire universe could be so kind and willing to take you in. Perhaps it was because you had seen too much. You were a witness to Blade knocking out over ten armed guards. However, they were so powerful that they seemed to be able to get away with anything. Either way, you were a part of their goup, and that's what mattered.

As time went on, you grew closer to the Stellaron Hunters. Especially Kafka, who you learned was much less intimidating in regular life, and Silver Wolf, who was still as deadpan as before, but seemed subtly happier with you around. You also were officially introduced to Blade, and were promised that he wasn't always so brooding. That was hard to believe, though.

Silver Wolf was like a sister to you. She dragged you with her everywhere. She said it was a part of your duties to accompany her on errands, but in reality, she just enjoyed having you with her. Whenever a battle presented itself, she would have you on the sidelines cheering for her as she obliterated enemies in the blink of an eye. It was clear that your support went straight to her ego, but she also secretly wanted to impress you so that you'd view her as some sort of mentor. Silver Wolf wanted to be a reliable guide and friend to you, especially after you had been alone for so long. Thankfully, you didn’t mind spending time with her. In fact, chatting and playing video games with her became one of your favorite ways to kill time. The latter was clearly her passion– after all, her combat techniques were solely revolved around her exceptional hacking skills. 

Silver Wolf taught you how to play all her favorite games, staying calm and patient with you when you kept losing. Often, she would discreetly take you out to arcades during your free time, and every time it would be humbling due to your lack of gaming experience. However, losing meant that you had more time to watch her win, which was never boring. In any other situation, you might have been jealous, but it was just so mesmerizing to watch her play. Besides, she gave you all her prizes, so you weren’t going to complain. But what you found to be even more amusing was watching her lose it over the few games she hadn’t mastered yet. Her face would contort into one of sheer disbelief and anger as she held onto the machine tightly, aggressively mashing buttons and mumbling insults. You would always laugh and try to cheer her up in response. It always gave her a huge ego boost, and convinced her to try again, despite still being angry. You never expected to gain such a dear friend when you joined the Steallaron Hunters, and you wouldn’t trade any part of your friendship for the world.

Kafka was another story, though.

At first, Kafka terrified you. She held so much power over the other hunters- well, really over everything, that you were sure she’d destroy you if you stepped out of line. Her empty eyes and ruthless reputation didn’t help either. 

Ever since your arrival, Kafka kept a close eye on you. She made sure that you were alright as you settled in, and that you weren’t feeling unsafe or lonely in your new environment. She offered you comfort and advice and cared for you like the mothers you had witnessed on your past journeys. 

One night, a month after you had arrived, you hurt your leg on a walk and Kafka was right there to patch you up. She shushed you gently as you tried to protest that you were fine, and dragged you to the nearest chair so you could sit. She took a first aid kit from a nearby cabinet, and began tending to your wound. You winced as rubbing alcohol combined itself with your blood, and you quietly explained that you had been doing this your whole life- that it wasn’t her job to take care of you. Kafka paused and looked at you, eyes showing a rare glint of sadness. She whispered to you that those days were over. You weren’t alone anymore, and you should ask the three of them for help whenever you needed it. You weren’t a burden to them. 

Kafka wasn’t sure what the cause of it was, but something in her chest began to ache when she saw you injured. She had never felt fear before. She deemed it impossible before you came along. She had always been known as a ruthless, unshakeable force of danger, who would stop at nothing to achieve her goals. But now, she had to keep you safe. Part of her wanted to berate herself for getting so protective over someone, for willingly weakening herself by caring about you. But you needed safety and a group of loving people to return to. You were just a kid, after all, and even after the short time you had been traveling with them, she had begun to feel like your guardian.

Tears filled your eyes, her words weighing down on your lungs. You couldn’t truly believe her. Not after all you had been through. But even so, Kafka was right in front of you, smiling softly, waiting and willing to take care of you. She wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. It was a foreign feeling, one that scared you more than anything else. But you were safe. You were at home. 

So you let yourself cry. Your heart split open, all the bottled up agony from your past finally bursting out. You curled into yourself, the gash on your leg long forgotten. Kafka kneeled before you and gently wrapped her arms around your shaking form. One of her hands carded through your hair, while the other rubbed your back soothingly. Gentle whispers fell from her lips, promising you that she was with you. You were safe.

You weren’t sure how long had passed when you calmed down. Maybe it had been hours. Whatever the truth was, Kafka remained by your side, not pulling back until she was sure you were okay. After you had stopped crying, she leaned back, meeting your sad, exhausted stare. She looked down at your bleeding wound, grabbed a roll of bandages, and cautiously wrapped it around your leg. When she was finished, she smiled and stood up, placing a hand on your shoulder. You matched her smile, assuring her that you were fine.

However, after a moment, Kafka’s comforting smile was replaced with a teasing smirk. Confusion sparked in your eyes and your eyebrows furrowed as if to silently ask what the problem was. She just chuckled and took a seat across from you, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head back as though she was assessing you. Her next words not only shocked you but caused your entire being to wilt in annoyance and anxiety.

“I think it’s about time we start training you in combat. If a scrape has you in this much pain, imagine the damage a real battle would do. We can’t have you dying on us, now can we?” 

She paused, thinking for a moment before reaching her conclusion. 

“Yes… I’ll have you train with Blade. His abilities never disappoint.”

And that was how your ongoing feud with Blade began. 

When Kafka decided to pair you up with Blade, you were pissed. However, you knew she was right. If you were falling apart just from accidentally scraping yourself, how were you supposed to handle actual threats? You would be utterly useless in a fight. And if anyone managed to get past the Stellaron Hunters and attempt to harm you, you would be dead on the spot. There wouldn't be a fight, just abrupt darkness, and a very disappointing end to a life such as yours. It would shatter the hearts of Kafka and Silver Wolf, who had already sworn to protect you at any cost. As you got older, the target on your back only became bigger. With the Stellaron Hunters’ reputation becoming more notorious by the day, civilians and authorities alike were bound to find out about you. Self-defense was a necessity.

But Blade never spoke to you. You felt as though you were a nuisance to him. Just another issue to be dealt with, another soul to pester him throughout the day. The way he glared at you made you wonder if you had done something wrong, or if you were imposing by being around. He made you feel out of place. Even after thorough reassurance from Kafka and Silver Wolf that his behavior was entirely normal, you still couldn’t help but worry. It was only after several months had passed that you came to understand that it truly wasn’t you- he was just grumpy. And that began to annoy you. If he wasn’t open to being somewhat nice, then why should you bother? You could glare back just as hard, and ignore him just as easily. If that's what he was getting at, then so be it. However, Kafka was the leader of both of you, and she wanted you to train. Despite your mild hatred of Blade, Kafka already had done so much for you. She only wanted the best for you. You could at least attempt to abide by her wishes.

So you gave in and begrudgingly stated training with Blade. 

For a few hours every day, you and Blade would find any open area and he would walk you through different defense techniques. You expected the technical side of it, but you did not expect that you would be sparring right off the bat. On the first day of training, he threw you into your first match and charged at you with the assumption that you had sharp enough reflexes to block him successfully. Obviously, you weren’t at all prepared since you had zero experience with combat. Turns out Kafka really wasn’t kidding when she said Blade knew how to fight.

Lessons carried on like this for weeks. You would return from sparring exhausted and bruised, feeling completely done with everything as you limped to your room to sleep. You felt generally bitter, making it hard for Kafka or Silverwolf to help, and Blade just acted like it wasn’t his problem. The most he did was help you up, and that was only if you put up a good fight. But thankfully, after a while, Blade began to notice how badly the sparring affected you. It wasn’t like you were on the brink of death, but you were still in pain. And given your age, there was no doubt that it was a lot more overwhelming than anticipated. So Blade subtly began to take care of you a little more. It wasn’t much- he mainly just gave you icepacks whenever you needed them and helped you walk, but it was the most he knew how to do. He was clueless when it came to caring for people, especially children.

You were a persistent kid, which Blade found surprising. He thought you would have given up within the first week of training, but you just kept working at it. And while Blade found your stubborn behavior annoying most of the time, it assured him that you had enough courage to fight alongside him and the others. He knew you didn’t like him much, and he knew a part of you blamed him for the injuries you got, which was reasonable. As annoying as you found him, Blade never gave up on you, even when you messed up or got so frustrated that you cried. He never babied you during these moments either. Instead, he would walk you through what went wrong and have you run through the solution until you had it down cold. Even if you were upset, he wanted you to push through it and use your anger to become stronger. You had been fighting your whole life. You had the tenacity and potential to gain the strength that you required. Blade could tell that, even after joining them, you wanted a purpose. You wanted to explore the universe and find your place among the glowing webs of stars. However, the beauty of the galaxy came with dark and unfamiliar territory. If you were to traverse the universe, you had to learn how to handle to darkest parts of it.

Little by little, you improved. You worked as hard as possible until you were able to withstand Blade’s strength and evade his attacks properly. You had a long, long way to go before you could actually defeat opponents, but you could at least hold them off, which was just as important. Despite how grueling Blade’s teaching methods were, you did come to respect him more as your mentor. He looked out for you in his own distant ways and seemed to actually care about you. In truth, Blade had started getting protective over you- not that he would admit it. It wasn’t an overbearing kind of protectiveness- he just wanted you to stay out of trouble. It was nice to pass knowledge onto someone, and protect them from the world's dangers by doing so.

The truth was, even if Blade acted indifferently toward you, he secretly was really proud of you. He admired your kindness, even after all the pain you had been dealt. You kept smiling and picking yourself up, finding your back to the light time and time again. Perhaps that's what made you so different from him. His will to keep fighting was growing fainter by the day.

Even with your differences, you both became closer. Blade kept an eye on you whenever you left the ship, talked with you whenever you got bored, and even helped you whatever chores you had to do. Sure, you were stubborn, but Blade never grew to dislike you. Your relationship felt routine and safe- it held a sense of comfort that felt normal. Blade caught himself questioning if this was what family was meant to feel like. He couldn't remember, but a faint, distant memory assured him that it was. If he could contribute to the familial safety you longed for so much, he would gladly do so. 

Was that even possible, though?

Blade had very little experience with love of any kind. Any memories he had of his past friend and family were long gone. His own sense of self was unstable, so how could he provide stability for you? He couldn't bear the thought of causing you pain. Or, there was a chance that he would rub off on you. That you would start to become like him. That prospect was enough to make him feel sick. So he began distancing himself from you in any way he could.

Now, whenever you crossed paths he would treat you especially coldly. Most times he saw you, he walked past you and pretended you didn't exist at all. He was back to being rude and dismissive, even more so than when you first met him.

Instead of encouraging you during training, he would call you weak and pick apart everything you had done wrong. This was not received well by you. After all, you didn’t know if Blade’s behavior was your fault, or if this was just how he truly was. You felt dejected and lonely, even with the support from Kafka and Silver Wolf. Though you loved them immensely, Blade was also someone you cared about, and you didn’t want to lose another parental figure. After weeks of being ignored, hatred replaced any good image you had of him. What used to be a safe, happy friendship soon morphed into an incessant rivalry. 

It felt like Blade only wanted to see you unhappy. You imagined that he was secretly gloating over your distress- that you were nothing more than a temporary amusement to him. But you were wrong. So, so very wrong. Blade hated seeing you upset because of him. He was failing you by ignoring your wellbeing. You were just a kid. More importantly, you trusted him.

But it was for your own good, wasn’t it? His past was dark, and perhaps he was too, by nature. He would never forgive himself if he allowed harm to come to you. Even if that meant leaving you behind. No, he would much rather watch you grow up and live happily from afar. 

Kafka still wanted you to train though, so Blade couldn’t avoid you entirely. Sparring was the only time he saw you anymore. Your sessions with him were difficult, but not because the material was hard. In fact, it was harder for Blade than you. You would glare at him constantly and show complete indifference to everything, making it nearly impossible to communicate with you. He wasn’t doing much better either- he couldn’t bring himself to say anything to you. It felt like the consequences of his neglect were crawling up his back, ready to snap at him at any moment, and he knew that any day now, you would finally break. Soon, everything would fall apart.

You knew Blade was heartless, but his cruelty was amplified when you trained with him now. He went all out, forcing you to scramble for scraps of knowledge he had previously given you to win. But that wasn’t enough this time. You were too tired, physically and emotionally, to continue. You felt smaller and weaker than you had ever felt before.

Lightning-fast blows struck you from all sides, the scent of bloodstained spider lilies clouding your senses. You weakly pulled your sword out of its sheath and tried to block his attacks, but doing so would knock you off balance from the force of his blows. You fell back on the ground, coughing and clambering to your feet, promptly hurling yourself towards Blade with hopes of hitting him just once. Built-up anger from the last few weeks rushed through your heart, tears of desperation dripping down your cheeks. God, you were tired of this. Blade used to be your friend. You wanted to know what changed, and you wanted that piece of your family back.

In your fury, your reaction time fell short. Blade darted behind you and shoved you to the ground, watching coldly as you crumpled over in defeat. A glint of regret shone in his eyes, but he quickly covered it up by turning his back to you. Once more, you picked yourself up, your throat burning from the lack of a break. It must have been hours since the start of your match, but it might have just felt that way because you were the one getting injured. Never before had Blade fought you this hard. You weren’t prepared, and he knew that. You internally questioned if he was actually trying to make you despise him, albeit sarcastically. It hadn’t occurred to you yet that it might actually be the case. You shakily lifted your head to look at him, angrily mumbling something that Blade couldn’t understand.

Blade took a breath and turned around to face you, blank expression unwavering. 

“What was that?” He growled. The world seemed to fall silent as you locked your gaze with his in an act of defiance.

“I said, I hate you!”

You hated that you were crying. You hated feeling weak. You hated what he had put you through.

But you didn’t hate him. Not entirely.

You wanted to hate him fully. You wished you were strong enough to. But even then, as you wiped your tears and walked out, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. Maybe it was the memories you had of when he felt like family, maybe it was inherent kindness or just plain stupidity. You couldn’t feel hatred. All you felt was dejection. So naturally, you began spiraling. 

If Blade didn’t want you around, there was a chance Kafka and Silver Wolf didn’t want you either. If it was possible that they secretly hated you too, you wouldn’t allow yourself to withstand their rejections as well. You might as well just get out of their way, and save yourself the trouble. It was nice feeling happy for a while. But it wasn’t what you were made for. It wasn’t how you were used to living. Perhaps this was a sign that your destiny rested in the familiar arms of solitude, away from the glowing crowds.

That night, when you returned from training, you bid Kafka and Silver Wolf goodnight and began packing your bags. When you were sure everyone had gone to sleep, you took your leave. You slipped out of the ship’s main entrance, the frigid night air numbing the uncertainty in your chest. You started walking, not sure where you were headed. You were out of practice with your usual travel routines, but that wasn’t important. As long as you were away from the Stellaron Hunters, you would be safe. Lonely, but safe. But even with your half hearted reasoning, you still felt a sinking feeling that this wasn’t right. That you might regret this. You shoved it off, cursing at yourself quietly for getting so softhearted. It was time to cut ties. It was for the best.

However, you had made one vital mistake. While preparing to leave, you had purposely left behind any photos or items given to you by Kafka, Silver Wolf, or Blade. In your rush to leave, you accidentally left behind something incredibly important to you: your mother’s necklace. 

You took it off and left it on your desk by accident. It was the last existing link between you and your biological parents and you cherished it because of that. So when Kafka found it the next morning, along with your neatly made bed and discarded photos, she knew something was very wrong. Silver Wolf burst into your room shortly after she found them, questioning Kafka about your whereabouts. She had no answer, all she could do was say she hadn’t seen you. Silver Wolf left worried and agitated, grumbling about how they had to find you. As Silver Wolf left, Blade approached your doorway with the intent of finding you for your training session, because at this point you would have been late. Gripping the necklace tightly, Kafka turned to face Blade. She knew there tension had been growing between you and him for the last month. If he was the cause of your absence, she would not let him get away unscathed.

Blade’s expression was serious, but Kafka could see the glint of confusion in his eyes. He seemed entirely clueless, so perhaps interrogating him wouldn't do much.

“There’s no sign of them anywhere on the ship,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady. “There’s only this.” Kafka gestured to the thin chain that lay forgotten on your desk. Dread immediately shot through Blade’s heart.

You had left.

And it was all his fault.

He neglected you. You had every right to leave. He was meant to be a guardian to you. It was his job- no, his privilege to keep you safe, and failed to do so. And now you could be anywhere in the galaxy, wandering aimlessly once again. Blade carefully took the necklace, trying to keep his composure as questions and visions of the worst raced through his mind. What if they never found you, or what if you had gotten hurt? What if it was too late, and you were already–

He didn’t allow that thought to finish itself. Catastrophizing would only slow the process of finding you. 

But would you even want to come back? Why would you, when you felt unwelcome enough to leave in the first place? And even if, by some miracle, you came back, would you ever trust him again? If you ever granted him forgiveness, would he even deserve it?

This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? That was why he pushed you away- so you would leave him alone. You were gone now, and he had gotten what he wanted. Was he truly so terrible that he would still be unhappy, even after he had achieved his desire?

It wasn't meant to go like this.

You weren't meant to leave them. It was his fault though, so maybe it was best to let you go.

Kafka’s piercing gaze bored into the side of Blade's head as she watched the gears turning inside his head. She took a short breath before heading towards the door. She was scared of losing you, and angry that they hadn’t noticed your absence until now. There was no time for emotions such as anger. You were missing. They had to find you.

Blade stood in the center of your room, now entirely alone. The metal of your necklace dug into his skin as he clutched onto it for dear life, his eyes falling to the pictures on your bed. You seemed so happy before. So did Kafka and Silver Wolf- he was happy too, though he was reluctant to admit it out loud. He had broken the loving family you had brought together. A strange family, but a family nonetheless. 

Blade kept staring. He wished he could go out looking for you. Unfortunately, wishes are not reality.

Blade would not search for you that day. He would be chained to where he stood, fighting with himself internally as time slipped by quietly. You could have died already. And he was just standing there, staring.

No, he would not look for you.

Because the truth cannot be denied, nor masked with excuses- in the end, Blade is a cruel man.

One who cannot be changed by anything.

[harmeu]

HOW DO THEY REACT WHEN YOUR HURT?

(GN!READER)

(Aventurine, Scar, Dion Agriche, Kishibe)

TW: Bruises, Scars, Wounds, Blood

AVENTURINE:

Aventurine is known for his eccentric personality for sure. He’s done well when asking others to join him but when it comes to actually connecting with others it falls flat due to his personality. You were an exception though! His beautiful lover.

So finding out you were hurt was not the best. It was a bruise you had gotten on your arm from somebody bumping into you by ‘accident.’ Well no not an accident but you weren’t going to tell Aventurine you had gotten into a fight! You know that would drive him into insanity.

“Oh dear? What's that on your arm?” He asked with his usual sardonic smile faltering at the sight of his beloved hurt. He took his hand out rubbing the bruise in delicate circles.

“Somebody bumped into me by accident.” You said averting your gaze as guilt filled you. 

Aventurine didn’t buy it and you knew as soon as his gaze darkened and his smile became more pointed and defined.

“Lies darling.” He said chuckling and kissed your bruise leaving the house.

All we know is that guy who hurt you was never seen again.

SCAR:

Scar is a manipulative asshole and sometimes you wonder how two different individuals like you two ended up dating. Hell, you loved the guy but sometimes you had to take double takes on his decisions. You loved him and he was obsessed. You could tell by the far lengths he went for you. Even if they weren’t good things.

You had gotten hit badly in a fight. A gash was literally bleeding through the stomach of your shirt. It reminded you of all the scars Scar had. Funny and ironic. Though you knew you had to patch yourself up and cover it before your boyfriend saw or who knows what would happen to the guy who hurt you?

Sadly you didn’t know Scar was home early and found you bleeding. He halted in his steps, eyes widened and staring blankly.

“Scar.?” You murmured out a reply PRAYING that he wouldn’t do anything over the top.

“Who hurt you?” His cunning smile returned as he stroked your scar sending small shockwaves of pain throughout you but you mumbled out an excuse.

“Nobody. Some..vines! Yeah vines. Pointy and thorny stuff.” Bullshit. As if he’d believe that.

“As if darling. Can you pleeeease tell me the guy I need to kill? Ooh! No, no wait! Torture and then kill! Ohhh wait wait. Burn him alive.” He smiled after his words, making you pale.

“No no no! That’s not needed!” You frantically said but Scar was already out the door hunting for the person.

DION AGRICHE:

Dion’s a sociopath. Nicest way to put it! Doesn’t show emotion at all and kills without a second thought. The Agriches were known for their ruthless nature so you should’ve been aware of that. But no one could get used to the sight of bloody bodies as a regular person. It was definitely not on your bucket list to date him but it happened! Right after you caught him smelling flowers. Now that tugged on your heart strings.

Would that excuse his actions? Fuck no. But did you love him? Yes. And so did he surprisingly.

Blood was on your palm after getting slashed by one of those who tried to assassinate the Agriche’s. After they found out your connection to him of course people would try and kill you. You managed to run out of there and make it back to the estate with soft pants.

You didn’t expect to find Dion staring dead in the eye at you, his red pupils dilating as he saw you bleed. You wondered if it reminded him of all the bloodshed he went through.

“You're bleeding.” He stated with a monotone voice.

“A bit yeah.” You forced a smile. “Just those regular guys who keep wanting to assassinate the Agriches..” A soft chuckle left your lips.

“Go to the healer.” He said with the same tone before leaving in the same direction where you got slashed at.

KISHIBE:

Kishibe is a on sight man to put it in simple words. Straightforward and hella strong. It was a surprise you ended up dating him since he was hung up on some lady that rejected him several times because she liked women. Were you just a rebound? You thought at times but those thoughts always vanished when Kishibe brought you little things. Like food, bracelets, and soft kisses. 

He had a tough guy look and definitely was one on the inside after seeing him fight but he did hold affection for you. 

Deeply.

A devil had managed to hit a bad hit on your back making you have to clutch the wall for support and limp back to base trying not to collapse in pain.

As you reached the base you found your lover staring at you with dead eyes. 

You know what those meant.

“Just..a devil.” You murmured out embarrassed since Kishibe was beyond strong and could beat a devil in a blink of an eye. Yet here you are bleeding out. “Sorry.”

Kishibe walked over to you and stared at your wound handing you bandages.

“I’ll be back. I need to release some stress.”

“Wait..” You know what that meant.

“Soon.” He left through the door dragging a huge weapon with him.

[sordidmusings]

A Coronary Tale - Chapter 1 (Sanji x Reader)

Chapter Summary: You have been hiding away in The Wood, biding your time with the company of your three dear ravens. Fearing those who could find you should you leave your new home, you settled yourself deeply in with the trees and rocks and river, building a quiet routine. Unfortunately, you were wrong to expect no one else to enter the abandoned woods.

Themes and tropes: slow burn for her/lit fuze for him, hidden identities, witchcraft, curses, political pit of vipers, lost royalty, witch hunts, nonverbal gestures of love

A/N: Howdy doodie I finally done did this 😩 My addition to @fanaticsnail's Storyteller collab with the tale of The Three Ravens! I am shuffling stuff around quite a bit and I really hope that you all enjoy my changes and additions! What we have here is an absolute train wreck of a meet cute so that's a start lol The title is a reference to one of the songs I had in mind writing this and definitely the main one with lyrics, A Coronary Tale by Dana Sipos

@fanaticsnail also gifted me the mood board

Wordcount: ~5.2k

Warnings: fem!reader, bit of blood, descriptions of injury but no gore, you're like a little feral maybe, Sanji's kinda into that too at least

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Another twig snapped and your breathing stopped. Every nerve threading through your body pulled your mind from one place to the next: under the skin of your palms, scraping against rough bark; in the balls of your feet, throbbing from their recent pounding at the ground; in the  depths of your lungs, burning for oxygen but turned still as stone in fear. Mostly, though, your mind lived in your ears, desperately sifting through the forest ambience and calling ravens for clues of your hunter.

Enough moments passed to release your lungs from their stalling and you began planning your next steps. Your burrow was far but that was good; you had more time to make sure he couldn’t track you there. You had been leading him East, away from your home, since he’d chased you across the river. The last you’d heard of him was due Northeast of you. If you headed exactly opposite him, you’d be back at your river, able to follow it down to your stuff and scramble back to your hide.

The weight of the risk settled down on you and kept your body from following through with your plan. What if he circled back to find your trail again? What if he was waiting for you at the river, knowing you’d likely collect your things?

You shoved your forehead into the scabbed bark of the great oak that hid you. The calming breath you hissed out held the hint of a whine and you cursed yourself further for the noise. Each moment he was more likely to turn back. Each moment he was closer to finding you. 

Scrunching your face in a snarl towards your fear, you shoved yourself off the tree and ran westward.

Traversing the Wood was second nature to you by now, but you’d only flown through it with such great speed one time before. You moved much more like a fleeing elk than the panicked rabbit you were then, even with your fright measuring close to that of your memory. Your eyes and body knew the trappings of the woods before your mind could even name them; thorny vines were ducked, wayward branches were parried, felled trees were vaulted. Even your long dress wasn’t a hindrance; you simply gathered the skirts high and tight to free your legs and keep the cloth from stretching branches. The only thing slowing your race home was your adrenaline beginning to weaken beneath the force of your exhaustion.

You burst forth from the Wood’s edge, scattering leaves and dirt and noise in your bid for speed over stealth. You could see the river close now, only a stretch of stony shore between you and safety. Not a single stride shortened despite the shrieking of your muscles or the begging of your lungs. You were beginning to boil in the heat of your blood pumping in your hands, feet, and head, but you would not slow, not even with the new glare of the sun making the air feel even more hostile. Your flight would continue as long as the flutters and caws of the ravens urged you on. 

“Wait!”

You shrieked in response and slid right into the swirling current before you. Still furious and frigid with late spring melt, the river overwhelmed you, forcing a gasp from you at the shock to your system. Water flooded into your open mouth and nose, choking you as you spun until up was left, down, and sideways. Despite flailing for a chance at breath and life, your mind kept screaming, West, west, that came from the west!

Your saturated dress sunk you deeper in the toiling water. It gave the chaotic current more purchase to rip and tug you in every direction, bouncing your limbs off all the river’s hidden weapons. Rocks tripped your sandaled feet at every attempt to find footing and thudded against your shins and arms with each turn in the water. Skeletal branches from long submerged trees scraped at you and grabbed at your skirts. Each new hold on the cloth only ended with another old seam ripping and releasing you back to the whims of the river.

Reigning in your sense, you curled into a ball to keep your feet from shoving beneath a rock, trapping you, and to protect your head from smashing in on any of the great boulders that lurked under the water's surface. Just when your world was fuzzing away at the edges, one of those boulders found you and punched the last bubbles of air straight from your lungs.

Before the current could take you further, you used the last of your strength to spin and scrabble at the rough stone’s surface. The moment you got a grip you summoned every ounce of life in you and heaved. 

With a crouping cough you broke the surface of the water. Great lungfuls of cold water scraped their way out of you. Through your heaving and gasping you drug your upper body to splay across the sun baked stone. It burned into your cheek and you couldn’t help but be thankful for the distraction from your raw throat and skinned fingertips. Everything but that sensation began to swirl and drift away into a distant fog.

Within that fog was a warm embrace. It wormed around your chest and lifted you away from the grounding heat under your cheek. You whimpered, agitating your tender throat, but couldn’t bring yourself to do anything further to protest. Sweet shushing soothed your mind, quickly replacing the comfort of your stone and covering the distant cawing. As you floated away, the steady rhythm of each hush set your sore lungs to breathe in soft waves.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

The afternoon sun pierced right through your eyes the moment you opened them. Wincing them back shut, you changed your goal to taking stock of your injuries. Your whole body was throbbing, muddling the deeper hurts in a constant protest that sounded with each beat of your heart. Through the cacophony, you heard your right ribs screaming, your throat moaning, and your fingers sobbing. 

You flexed your hands slowly to test them. They trembled and ached at your orders but followed through with no great spike in pain. Next, you shifted your torso in a minute rock from side to side. Your ribs punished you spitefully for the motion, but there was no telltale crackle of bone and you were able to keep breathing throughout your shimmying. Lastly, you began sucking in a deep breath to attend to your throat and lungs. You began hacking halfway through, earning more ire from your battered side.

“You’re awake!,” a relieved voice chimed. Gentle fingers traced your face, continually brushing from your skin into your hair. “Thank goodness. You haven’t been out long; it's only been a minute since I pulled you from the river.”

Your heart kick-started again, not caring the least bit about the man’s attempts to seem non-threatening. His claim as your savior did little too; wishing you death and wishing you harm were two separate things. Your pain quieted to a whisper as your awareness shifted to scouring the space around you for information. The ground under you was solid and your palms felt warm stone. The constant swish and rumble of rapids filled the air. I’m still on the riverside. Calm breathing sounded quietly from your left, only a foot beyond the fingers still caressing your face. He’s already recovered.

“You gave me quite the scare there, Bichette. I thought the river took you,” he whispered to you. “I’m so glad I ran back to the river instead of continuing in the woods.” The genuine care and worry in his tone only made your distrust grow. You instead trusted the continued caws from the treeline. His touch disappeared and you heard the grind of his shoes against the rocky ground as he stood up.

“Keep resting, Mademoiselle, I’m just going a short way down the river’s edge to see if I can spot us an easy way back.”

You counted each step he took away from you, every crackle on stone ramping your anticipation higher and higher. The roaring of your blood in your ears grew to match that of the river but his footsteps still cut through. You slowly bent your knees up to remove your sandals and plant your feet on the ground. Despite their exhaustion, your muscles listened when you tensed them. Your count was nearly there. Thirty! You flung yourself onto hands and knees then bolted.

“Stop! Please!”

You were much slower than before, having to drag the weight of your water-logged clothes, half-drowned body and freshly abused skeleton with you. Your lungs couldn’t keep up with even the diminished speed of your strides and you had to fight with each breath not to cough, yet the urgent calls of the ravens circling you pushed you on. The man’s thumping steps were quickly catching up, but you were almost at the treeline.

“You’re going to hurt yourself, chérie, please stop,” he tried again, begging through panting breaths.

One raven sped ahead of you and landed on a large branch with another loud call. You zeroed in on his choice - an old maple spreading high over its neighbors. Its branches started far above the ground, but that was no problem for you, even now. Your switch from sprint to climb was seamless; one step launching you from between the maple's snaking roots and the next propelling you just that much higher with a bare foot catching deeply against its sturdy bark. Ignored the warnings from your hands, you used knots and lumps for handholds, hauling yourself higher and letting your feet follow the same path. You didn’t let yourself slow until you were well mingled in the smaller branches of the tree, nearly forty-five feet in the air. The way the distance shrunk your pursuer gave you a small bit of comfort.

“I’d climb up there but you’d just jump out, wouldn’t you?” he called up to you.

As if to prove his point, you widened your stance and bent low, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. The three ravens flapped their wings in threat of flight. It was all mostly for show; your body was at the end of its rope.

“Ah, Bichette, what has you so scared?” he asked, voice and eyes mourning.

You bared your teeth at him and hoped that he was too far to see your watery eyes. The aches of your body were becoming too much; your bruised ribs stunted every breath, your flayed hands trembled and bled, your scraped toes weren’t far behind their damaged state, your abused throat burned at every scrape of air in and out, and your shaken head, as well as all below it, thudded with pain. The worst of your worries though was the wooziness creeping in on the edges of your mind in the wake of your adrenaline rush. Also the man below you, wrapped in his absurdly expensive clothes, which were just as soaked as your torn rags.

“You’re a strong one, I’ll give you that.” 

You held your shaky snarl. The ravens flapped and cried.

“But even you need food, water, and rest after a chase like that. You nearly drowned,” he pressed, desperately trying to make you see reason. “I’m not going to hurt you, Mademoiselle, I promise.”

You continued to stare down at him with all the ferocity of a caged animal, and he sighed.

“You’re also going to want to get out of those wet clothes. Your laundry on the shore should be dried by now and I dropped my food there as well. There’s plenty to share. I can help you back to go get it,” he persuaded. “I’d go get it myself, but I don’t want you to disappear.”

You’d hold my clothes hostage to find me again, you grumbled internally. The three ravens stilled and took their time looking down at the man. After their analyzing, they took off, leaving you feeling truly cornered and alone. The man saw your face crumble as you watched them go and he ached for your sorrow.

“Well, neither of us are going anywhere, so-” he blew out a long breath and looked down at the tree’s base “-might as well get to know each other.” He found a spot he deemed worthy and settled into the cradle between two large swells of roots. He craned his head back to check on you and found you still staring down at him. He couldn’t decide if he preferred your teary glare to the lost look you sent the birds; both had him wounded.

“I’ll start,” he offered patiently, looking down to his hands fidgeting with his gold rings between his bent knees. “My name’s Sanji.”

He waited a good twenty seconds but received no response. He looked back up and you stared down.

“Can I have your name, chérie?” he pleaded gently.

He was met with more silence.

“Okay,” Sanji relented. “Okay, Mademoiselle, that’s fine. I’ll talk for both of us for now.”

He settled in deeper against the tree, continued his fidgeting, and wished he had his cigarettes.

“I’m a chef; feeding people is my greatest joy,” he started earnestly. “I was sailing the seas, feeding a patchwork crew. Our captain managed to find trouble everywhere he went, dragging us along with him toward his ridiculous dream.”

Sanji paused. You watched as he raked a hand through his shiny blonde hair and attentively took in the way his face softened into a fond smile. Craning further for a better look, you managed to see the sad scrunch in his brows conflicting with the upturn of his lips.

“He was dragging us towards our own foolish dreams, too, though. I want to find the All Blue,” he admitted. He looked up in time to see your incredulous look and the curious tilt of your head. They made him burst out in bright laughter at the dramatic shift in expression from you. You hated how pretty he looked like that.

“Yeah, that’s what I expected; most people think it's a fairytale.” He calmed his chuckles and asserted delicately, as much to himself as to you, “I know it’s out there though. It has to be.”

You fought hard against this man’s charms chipping away at your suspicions. Your complaining injuries helped keep you cautious, even through the strong pull of his placating eyes.

“Our captain would like you. Anyone with your tenacity catches his eye. He’d probably want to add you to his collection,” Sanji joked lightly. “You would fit right in; our navigator and archaeologist always respect a strong woman like themselves. Our musician and engineer are welcoming to new company. Our sniper and doctor might fear you a bit though.” He took a moment to think before looking down and grumbling, “And that damn mosshead would complain, but when isn’t he.”

You were about to start tuning him out, needing to defend yourself from being endeared, when his next words cemented your curiosity to the forefront of your mind.

“I guess it doesn’t matter now. I’m stuck here.”

He sounded so heartbroken. You knew that sound; had heard it leaking from your father and brothers - from your own lips.

“My family-” he spit the word with potent vitriol “-found a use for me. Pulled me back here with a threat against my real family.”

You diligently tried to see the emotions in his face, but he kept it firmly turned from you, hiding away. You cursed him for adding a sad ache to your chest as if you didn’t already have enough pains. Looking again at his fine clothes, you began to wonder if they felt more like a trap than a trophy to him. Sanji turned back up to you and his heart stuttered at the first glimpses of compassion on your face. It made you even more beautiful.

“I-I’m sorry, chérie, I didn’t mean to make this a therapy session.” He chuckled awkwardly at his own foible, frustrated with himself for dumping his emotions on you but happy with the result. You decided with great conflict that his unsure smile was just as pretty as his laugh-scrunched face. He let that smile slide off of him, meeting you instead with a vulnerably relaxed face that looked so intrinsically forlorn. Seeing his bare humanity, you needed no further prompting.

Sanji watched in bewildered awe as you pursed your lips at him and sent him a warbling whistle. Your imitation was perfect; it sounded exactly like a robin greeting the sun.

“What…” he trailed off, still taken aback by the strange but sweet turn. “What does that mean?”

You finally allowed yourself to relax your posture and settled your beaten body to splay across the tree’s limbs. Your legs dangled around a few branches, allowing them some much needed relief, and you laid on your front, making it easier to keep your watchful eyes on the man below you. Bedding your forehead into your forearm, you offered a miniscule smile from tight lips before repeating the birdsong.

“It’s beautiful,” Sanji complimented. “Fitting for such a striking lady.”

You scrunched your nose disapprovingly at him and whistled out a piercing warning call.

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed. “I just can’t help myself with-”

Avian shrieks split the air and you shot up to find their source. You easily ignored the whimper the action forced from you, but Sanji struggled to do the same.

“Ma chérie, please be careful-”

You spotted six flapping wings and laughed in bright joy, fully distracting Sanji from his worries. The flying forms looked odd; one had a bulbous blob by its head and the other two had billowing streams of color falling from them. You recognized the streams as cloth as they grew closer, but the final item remained a mystery. That raven landed the easiest, having nothing that would snag on leaves or branches. The other two were having much more trouble.

You giggled again at their hijinx, fully amused by their frustrated crying and hopping and flapping at the edge of the tree. To help them, you began weaving your way out towards them until you were at the limits of the branches’ strength to hold your weight. You reached your arm out as far as it would go, feeling the straining stretch in each joint, but still fell short of bridging the gap between you. The whole time, Sanji was calling up fretful and concerned warnings, which you easily ignored. 

Despite your attempts to help, the two raven still just fretted about and progressed no closer to a solution. A shrill whistle cut their actions short and captured their attention. You held up two fingers to them then pointed to the smaller garment. They stayed still and you frowned at them with all the practiced disappointment of a school teacher. You repeated the actions with more gusto, this time finishing the display with a hand waving them toward you. Suddenly getting the memo, both ravens began working the same cloth in your direction, repeating the process of free-shift-snag until it was within your reach. 

You grabbed the familiar green cloth and held it in front of you, recognizing an oversized men’s shirt. The ravens continued their work until you were holding a pair of loose beige pants too. You gave the two birds a loving pet and a quick kiss on their bowed heads in thanks. You slinked your way down to about thirty feet from the ground, seeking more open space between the branches to change out of your sopping and torn dress.

Sanji took in the whole exchange with wonder.

“You really are the Witch of the Wood,” he whispered reverently.

Your face twisted with confusion at the title and you rapidly shook your head.

“But your ravens!” he argued. “They all say the Witch has three ravens for familiars - that they help her spy on all who enter this stretch of forest.”

Well… he’s close, you admitted to yourself. You squeezed the excess water out of your ruined skirts (you hoped some would land on his head), removed your freezing underwear, and slid the pants on under your skirts. The top went on next, acting as a cover for you as you squirmed your arms out of the sleeves of your dress. Once that was accomplished, you began shoving the heavy material through the neck of the shirt. The process was frustrating; the wet material clung to you with every move, forcing you to make more and more and agitate your wounds further and further. When you finally managed to get it all out of the shirt, you shoved your arms through their holes and pulled the dress over your head.

Luckily, your quick work left a minimal transfer of moisture from your old outfit to your new one. The relief of mostly dry clothes felt even greater than you imagined, and you took great pleasure in balling the ruined fabric up and tossing it to ricochet its way down the tree, landing next to Sanji with a great plop. Staring at him again, you turned bitter at the reminder of the title he gave you. I am no witch. You wished you aimed for his head.

The deep crimson smears and fingerprints Sanji spotted on your discarded clothes refreshed his worry. He had gotten far too distracted trying to charm you and even more distracted once he saw your smile. Sometimes he regretted his overwhelming soft spot for women. Then he would see another woman and have that thought overwhelmed. C’est la vie.

“Bichette,” he cooed, hoping again to win you by charm, “ma chérie, please let me take you back. We need to get those wounds looked at.”

You looked down your nose at him then pointedly turned away, looking instead to the final raven bearing a gift for you. He was still holding tight to a cloth knot at the top of a parcel, but he had adjusted to rest its weight on the branch below him while he waited for your attention. You grabbed the parcel from him, immediately noting the intricate weave of the fabric beneath your fingers, matching well with the delicate patterns unfolding throughout it. This must belong to the expensive man at the foot of the tree. A shame to get bloody fingerprints on his fineries, you thought with sadistic glee. Serves him right for chasing me through my woods.

Untying the cloth proved easier on your fingers than your wardrobe change, they had turned to a monotonous pounding instead of the sharp alerts of pain sometime during your first challenge. Opening the wrapping revealed two containers of food, a smaller one sat atop the larger. First popping the top option open, you found two perfectly prepared pieces of meat on the bone. They were seared to perfection, browned just so, and smelled of gentle spices, just enough to enhance the natural flavor of the meat. You snapped the container back closed so you could check in the other. This one contained the most mouth-watering curry you’d ever seen or smelled, nestled in a thick pool next to fluffy white rice. You looked back and forth between the food and the man below with a raised brow.

“A quick lunch I whipped up,” Sanji responded to your unspoken question. You rolled your eyes at him, doubtful that anything in this meal could be made quickly. Maybe the rice. You wrote his dismissal off as showboating in a further attempt to woo you. 

Having no silverware, you prepped your fingers as best as you could by dabbing them on the rich cloth, licking them to wet any dried blood or dirt, and repeating the process until only the barely there leak of fresh blood remained on your raw fingertips and broken nails. The process had them stinging angrily at you again, leaving you biting desperately on your tongue to hold back whimpers that still pushed through. Thankfully, it didn’t take very long. The river water had rinsed them mostly clean, leaving only the layered mess of blood and the dirt from your climb.

Taking a clump of sticky rice, you scooped up a bit of the fragrant orange curry. The taste was just as divine as the smell and you moaned at the best food you’d had in years. You bit into a piece of the scrumptiously tender meat next, recognizing sea king, and you were yet again reminded of Sanji’s opulence. You had to admit to his good taste though; the meat from this variety of sea king leaned much more towards chicken than fish in both texture and flavor, absorbing the bold mix of spices in the curry perfectly. Judging by the vibrant tint to the meat, he set it in a well-crafted marinade as well. Had he not told you he was a chef before you got the food, you would have never believed this was the work of his own hands.

“At least I know you’re getting a good meal,” Sanji said. You were angered and endeared by his honesty. “I came to The Wood for a break. Before the rumors of the Wretched Witch of the Wood, this land and its river were known for their beauty. I can see why now.” He looked up to you with warm eyes and an affectionate smile. You snubbed your nose at him.

“Before I found you, my plan was to find the calm stretch of river, wade around, then sit and eat where absolutely nothing and no one needs me. I chose the food to bring the memory of some of my friends with me.”

You slowed your ravenous shoveling to stare at what was left of the curry with guilt twisting your gut. If it were just food you were taking, you’d happily rob this rich stranger blind, but memories were a different story. Your gaze roamed your three ravens, earning inquisitive coos from them with your misty eyes. You centered your gaze back on the massacred curry, feeling hot shame smother over you. A gentle beak nudged at your cheek.

Sanji let himself sit in the quiet following his confession. He was glad you slowed down, fearing you’d upset your stomach with a quick and filling meal, but he did have to admit, it warmed his heart how much the messy display reminded him of his captain. 

While he had no great time to appreciate the beauty of the scenery before, he found the time now. Trees old and new clustered lovingly around each other in a long stretch, interwoven with blooming hedges of mountain laurel and patches of lacy ferns. Moss hugged the damp places of The Wood, keeping them warm and alive. The earth here was not soft; it was made of packed dirt, rock falls, giant boulders, and wrestling roots, but sweeps of dead leaves did their best to cushion the path of each resident.

The river that had previously felt so threatening and cruel now soothed him with its endlessly running waters. He was mesmerized as his eyes followed the shifts from a shrouding deep blue to frothing white and back again. The cycle felt endless and inevitable, stable and sure, outside the reach of time or the shortfalls of consciousness. It made him small, it made his problems small, and he found peace.

The whisper of rustling feathers broke him from his blissful mindlessness. Sanji turned to see one of your ravens nudging the mound of his tied cloth toward him. The reminder of you made him realize he hadn’t heard a peep from you since he started his zoning. He found you had fully turned your back to him and you were staying statue-still. Now slightly concerned, he reached for the cloth only to stop with a surprised yelp when the raven pecked his hand. It cawed mockingly at him before flying right back to your side.

Reaching cautiously despite the raven’s distance, Sanji grasped his cloth. Again, he looked at your bloodied fingerprints with a clenching heart, but he brushed past it as best as he could and untied the limp fabric. Laying out the cloth, he saw that it held the smaller of his food containers. Opening that, he found the two pieces of meat on the bone untouched. His cheeks ached with the force of his new smile.

“Thank you, ma chérie, you’re very kind,” he called up to you. He shook his head at your lack of response and began munching happily.

Hearing that he had begun his own meal, you were able to stomach the rest of your food.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

The sun had long since bruised the sky, its wounds showing the end of their healing in purples and blues instead of oranges and pinks. Sanji still sat stubbornly and dutifully at his post under your tree. You had succumbed to sleep a while ago, your body much too ravaged and worn to fight the need for rest any longer.  

Seeing you’d fallen under, Sanji tried to scale the tree to bring you down and carry you back to get help, but each attempt was swiftly thwarted by stabbing beaks and talons. They first started as more of a threat, tugging at his clothes, but as he got bolder in his attempts so did the ravens. They found their courage to fight him and would not back down. Instead, Sanji backed off fully after a beak opened his hand for first blood and the other two readied their screeching weapons at each of his eyes.

Retreating from them, Sanji took his time to collect you some fresh water from a fast-flowing piece of the river in his rinsed container. He used the clean inside of his cloth to dry the excess from the outside of the sealed container before laying it carefully on the expensive fabric at the base of your tree like an offering. He stood before it and looked at you through the time passing around his frozen stance, wishing he could just decide what was best for you. Your ravens seemed to think it was not him, nor his wishes to take you away. They were adamant that you were best left to rest as the tree cradled you. He supposed this forest was your home, it fit for its pieces to care for you.

Then again, it was the very river of these woods that so readily snatched you up to steal you from the living.

Sanji waited until the sky had grown much darker than the deep blue of his eyes in the waning light to leave you. He feared more for your future than finding his way across the river and out of The Wood in the dark. Before he could tear himself away though, he had to take you in one more time, hoping the vision will last him until the next time he lays eyes on you. He grieved for the state of you; not just your new hurts but your patchy clothes, your frayed hair, your callused hands. He felt especially for the prominent ribs that greeted him when he wrapped his arms around you to free you from the river. His mind toiled with worries and indecision his whole trek back to the castle.

“Oh, Bichette, how am I going to help you?”

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

End Notes: Robins can symbolize renewal, new beginnings, and finding joy as they are one of the first signs of spring. They are also part of the dawn chorus, announcing the sun each morning.

[seniorpollinationtechnician]

Despite their best efforts, the team couldn't locate Jorlan. Every attempt to trace his steps proved futile no matter how many devices they deployed. Then, just as suddenly as he had vanished, Jorlan returned. One evening, as the team gathered for their evening meal, he stumbled into the research station. Everyone rushed to greet him, bombarding him with questions about where he had been and what he had seen. Jorlan, however, remained tight-lipped. They assumed his reluctance to talk stemmed from a traumatic experience and in wanting to respect his privacy, they didn't push for answers. The team tried their best to support Jorlan but found it difficult to do when he began to exhibit strange behaviors. It was subtle at first. He became more reclusive, often avoiding social gatherings and spending long hours in the lab. His normally meticulous work grew erratic with unfinished projects and nonsensical reports. He was frequently lost in thought, his eyes unfocused and distant, as if he were somewhere far away. As days turned into weeks, Jorlan's condition worsened. He started missing routine check-ins and meetings, a stark contrast to his previously punctual nature. When approached, he would brush off concerns with a weak smile, insisting he was fine, but his pallor and the dark circles under his eyes told a different story. Eventually, he fell ill. It began with a persistent cough that quickly escalated into severe fatigue. Jorlan, who once navigated the station with purpose and energy, now moved sluggishly, his steps unsteady. He rarely left his room, and when he did, it was only for brief moments before retreating back into the confines of his quarters. One morning, as the light cast a long shadow across the research station, the ORION team members went about their tasks, unaware that what they'd been harboring for the past few weeks had reached maturity. Jorlan, who had been confined to his room for days, emerged unexpectedly. His appearance was shocking; his skin had taken on a sickly brownish hue, and his eyes, once bright and intelligent, were now clouded and devoid of emotion. He moved with a jerky, unnatural gait, his body seeming to struggle against some internal force. The team gathered around him, alarmed by his sudden appearance and worsening condition. They pleaded with him to return to his room, to let them help him, but Jorlan did not respond. Instead, he let out a guttural, inhuman growl. His body convulsed violently, and before their eyes, he began to change. Vines and tendrils erupted from his skin, tearing through his suit. His limbs elongated and twisted into grotesque shapes, covered in thorny growths. His face distorted and lost all semblance of humanity as it morphed into a gaping, petal-like maw that split open into a star-shaped pattern. With terrifying strength and speed, he lunged at the nearest team member, his thorny appendages slicing through the air. Panic erupted as the team scrambled to defend themselves, but they were no match for the creature Jorlan had become. He moved with deadly precision, his new form imbued with a primal, savage intelligence. The station descended into chaos. Alarms blared, and lights flickered as the team members fought desperately to contain the creature. But he was relentless, his plant-like body impervious to their efforts. One by one, they fell, succumbing to his vicious assault. Amid the carnage, it became clear that Jorlan was no longer acting of his own will. His attacks were calculated, as if driven by a singular purpose. After incapacitating the entire team, he somehow managed to override the ship's controls and force it to return to their home planet. The citizen's of Sixam were caught completely off guard. The luminescent cities and serene landscapes became battlegrounds as the monstrous plant creatures descended upon them and overwhelmed the unprepared populace with brutal efficiency. The few survivors, driven to the fringes of civilization, could only watch in horror as their world was overrun.

[twstunes]

looking at the Mirror Chamber very intently. come with me for a sec. Take My Hand.

First thing catching my eye are the windowpanes. They're pretty busy in general, but those thorny curls…suspicious. As is how the overall flow of the panes seems to resemble an inverted form of the design Draconimom's appearance is built around (which is itself based on Maleficent's general character design).

But u know what really gets me? These aren't the only windows with distinctly thorn-like windowpanes. For some reason, the uppermost windows in the normal classrooms (like in Trein's magic history lessons) have a thorny design too. NO clue if there's any relation there, but it feels too overt to brush off, y'know?

Next up: the rose arches over the windows. If you look closely at Draconimom's lace cape-thing, you'll notice the roses worked into its pattern (sorta in the 'ear' area of the pattern)– and one of masquerade Malleus' home screen lines has him saying how fond he is of the rose embellishments on his outfit. It's a bit of a stretch, but considering the extreme similarities between Draconimom and our dear buddy Hornton, I'd be willing to bet that roses are A Specific Thing for them. (Plus there's the obvious thorns –> roses connection, and how Draconimom's staff is a giant flower, AND it provides a convenient visual tie-in to the first dorm/major boss we encounter in the main story…)

Now for the chandelier. Pretty messy-looking for such a fancy chamber, yeah? But with such a distinctive floral pattern to it…and to the lace it seems to be wrapped in. The main focus of the lace seems to be that sorta three-leaf pattern in it, the shape of which is reflected in the bud-like decoration dangling down from the center.

I know I'm making the lace of Draconimom's cape-thing do some heavy lifting in this analysis, but that sorta three-leaf/bud-like shape does appear in it. More noticeable, though, would be how the dangling bud seems to resemble the central decor of Draconimom's heavy belt– just without the sword.

Less relevant, but the presence of chains on the chandelier give me pause. Symbolically, chains are used to represent containment or (a negative sense of) security. I've joked about Draconimom being in the Dark Mirror, but that chains would be placed so nearby…it makes me wonder. Is the person in the mirror being actively restrained or otherwise held by force, as opposed to passively being trapped?

Also, if you look closely…at the top of the chandelier's lace, nearly hidden in the gloom, appears to be the image of a rose.

Moving along, the bottom of the chandelier looks quite similar to the construction of the botanical garden, just inverted. The four large beams visible in our view of the botanical garden also have a very…pointy quality about them, thanks to the spear pillars acting at their supports. You could say they look almost like thorned vines.

Looking from the campus map view shows that those large beams fully encircle the building, just as the decorative lines on the chandelier presumably encircle it. In addition, we can also see that the Hall of Mirrors has a somewhat similar construction. (Not using the outer view of the HoM from the official manga bc idk how much artistic leeway the manga artists are allowed.)

The circles on the coffin lids alternate between being bright green or glowing cyan, depending on whether or not you're summoning cards. It could be that the green is their default "inactive" state, and the cyan glow is caused by them being "active" during the summoning sequence? Seven ("active") coffins appear during the summoning cutscene, which is all but assuredly in reference to the fact you can usually only summon from the 7 available dorms. (The 12 "inactive" coffins seen during the normal view of the Mirror Chamber don't appear to correlate to anything in specific.)

The lamps lining the Mirror Chamber each have seven lights on them, which could also be a subtle nod at the 7 dorms – it's a bit of an odd design for a lamp, otherwise. All of them together gives me the impression of a grove of saplings.

last but not least, this is slightly off-topic but WHAT is up with that fountain. why's it got the nastiest lookin water known to man. when was that thing last cleaned. looks bad looks rancid. still feel compelled to take a lil sip tho

[sugarrushproductions]

Elena And Sofia: Royal Trouble

Chapter 1: New Rule

"Blaze!" 

"Ximocu!" The yellow blast hit Mateo's red shield directly after it was fully up. Now, as the stream was continuous, it became a matter of wills and endurance. Elena and Mateo shared a determined smirk, though the latter was a tad cockier than the former. He could do this for as long as it-

She stopped blasting his shield and used her vanish. He let his shield drop only after racking his brain for a spell to reveal her whereabouts. Then he heard footsteps behind him and had a better idea. Twisting his tamborita, he turned around and hit it. “Cachoa!” A large wind had Elena falling into the fountain. With a snicker as she stood, he ended the spell and got ready to cast another.

“Glow!” she said, blinding him. “Envision six Elena’s!” When he could finally see again, there were seven Elena’s standing in the fountain. Each was dripping water just as the real Elena would be. Only one was currently making ripples in the fountain however.

“Solaza!” He directed at the real Elena. She had no choice but to deflect it right back at him and lose her concentration. Unfortunately Mateo had to roll away from his own blast, hitting the rose bushes. “Ow! Thorns!”

“It’s about to get worse- Bloom!” The roses started growing all around him, becoming a very thorny trap. 

“Llévaluq!” Mateo floated up before he was completely covered, sending a smirk down at Elena. She had jumped out of the water with a splash and tried to use vanish to figure out what to use next. He looked around for any sign of her but didn’t dare lower himself down. In the air he had the advantage of seeing everything. Flying around had gotten easier over the past year, like he had always been doing it. And after one circle of the garden, he found the trail of water she left. “Conglari!” 

Elena yelped as she dodged the freezing blast, not realizing that he hadn’t been aiming for her. The water she had been dripping froze beneath her feet and she slipped. The same bushes she had made grow to trap Mateo now trapped her. She was visible now, and was struggling against the vines while her wizard landed in front of her. He twisted his tamborita back in place, twirling it and putting it in his back satchel while Zuzo appeared next to her.

“Well your majesty, it looks like you lost this round,” her chanuel said, flipping upside down with a smile. She glared at him.

“I can still fight!” Elena said, trying to use her foot to grab her fallen scepter. Mateo was quicker, flipping it up to his grasp. Her head rolled back as she groaned, as much as she’d do to admit defeat.

“Desparci,” Mateo said, aiming at the brush. Her arms were finally free though her but now fell on cold ice. “Don’t worry,” He tossed her scepter to her and she caught it easily, the stone at the top glowing. “I’ll brighten your day.”  She giggled as Zuzo rolled his eyes and put a paw over his head. He then disappeared and reappeared next to the wizard with a disapproving shake of his head.

“You’ve been waiting all day to say that, haven’t you?” The spirit guide deadpanned. Mateo chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Maybe.. Oh, let me help,” he said, grabbing Elena’s hands to help her up and keep her from slipping. Unfortunately, he started slipping as well and pulled her back down with him. He hit his head on the ground while Elena fell on his chest- he hoped that she couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating. “Are- are you ok?” 

She laughed, pushing herself up with a hand on her head. “I’m ok.” Mateo followed, trying to not think about the fact that she was sitting on his lap. Or that Zuzo had just reappeared in his eye line, waggling his eyebrows and giving a knowing smirk. Mateo wished he could give the spirit fox a glare back without alerting Elena of his mood. At least he didn't have a light up outfit like she did.

“Queen Elena- whoa!” Armando slid past them, the ice making him slide right through Zuzo. The spirit fox just appeared next to Elena.

“Armando! Are you ok?” Elena had gotten up to help the chief of the castle up, forgetting about ice that had been the reason for the predicament. She fell flat on her face, making everyone wince.

"Uh, Mateo," Zuzo said. 

"On it," the wizard agreed, drawing his tamborita and aimed it at the ground. "Desparci." With ice gone, all three got to their feet again. "Sorry, Armando."

"It's alright, Mateo," The chief of the castle sighed, brushing himself off. "I forgot about your weekly magic spar." He jumped when Zuzo suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Ooo, whatcha got there?" Zuzo asked, pointing at the scroll in his hand. 

"That's why I hurried out here." He bowed and held out the scroll. "You have a letter, your Majesty. There was an order to get it to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you," Elena said as she took it, examining the seal as Mateo looked over her shoulder. It had a peabunny hidden in mulberry bushes, the sun halfway peering from the top of the circle. "Hmm. I've never seen that crest before."

"Me either," Mateo nodded. "And I thought peabunnies were only found in Vallestrella? How would they know what they look like?" 

"I don't know." She slid her thumb under the seal, popping it and unraveling the letter. A map fell out of the letter, Mateo deftly catching it. With a small glance to him and Zuzo, the latter shrugging before appearing over her other shoulder, she began to read. "To Queen Elena of Avalor, 

“I write to invite you to visit my kingdom of Fantasia. I am new to this role, but I hope to make many friends and allies. I believe that an alliance between our kingdoms would be beneficial.

“Fantasia is a land of peace and prosperity. We have a well-developed economy and we are becoming a center of learning. I believe that I could learn much from you.

“I would be honored to host you and your most trusted advisors and friends in Fantasia. I have enclosed a map to my kingdom and a list of all the other rulers I am inviting. I hope that you will consider my invitation and that we can meet in person soon.

“Safe travels, Queen Verano…”

"Who's Queen Verano?" Armando asked. 

"Apparently a new Queen.” Elena looked it over one more time before rolling it up. “Armando, can you tell my family to meet in the grand council chamber?”

“Oh, sure thing, your majesty.” He ran off as she turned to Mateo.

“I know it’s their day off, but can you find Gabe and Naomi? I’ll need their advice too.” 

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to map it up to them,” Mateo said as he handed the map to her, laughing. She joined him, laughing harder at Zuzo’s insistence that it wasn’t even a good joke. When they finally calmed down, Elena ran off to get things ready. Mateo really couldn’t help but watch her go. No matter what she wore, whether her sparkly mood dress or what she called her adventure gear (which was her current outfit), she looked amazing. He didn’t mind the feeling of heat rising to his face considering everyone else was gone.

He was reminded of the spirit guide’s presence when he appeared in front of his face.

“Zuzo!” He complained, jumping back a step. He just got crossed paws in response.

“You need to tell her,” Zuzo said. 

“Tell who what?”

Zuzo dragged a paw over his face. “Not this again.” He then flew around to grasp the wizard’s shoulders, pushing him forward. “Mateo, you know what I’m talking about,” He disappeared and reappeared in front of him again, poking him in the nose. “And who I am talking about.” Mateo batted a hand through the paw, shooing him away. 

“It’s just not the right time, Zuzo.”

“If you keep waiting, it’ll never be the right time. You just gotta go for it!"

The wizard crossed his arms. “Since when did you become my spirit guide?”

“I’m not.” Zuzo disappeared then appeared on the other side of him. “You should really start summoning Cacahuate more.”

“Oh, he’s here?” Mateo rubbed the back of his neck as the fox nodded. Of course he was, he was his spirit guide. And the sloth was probably feeling very left out considering how much direct advice Zuzo was giving him. “Right. I’ll summon him next time.”

“Good. Now, you better go do what she asked you to before you get an orange dress instead of red." 

Mateo nodded and pointed his tamborita at his chest. "Congrix!" With a flash of orange, he was gone.

. . .

Naomi walked through the Mercado with a smile, feeling the coins in her pocket. If she went to Doña Paloma's it'd be gone in an instant and she'd have something cheap that would have her coming back the next day. While the business woman had gotten better in the past few years, she still prioritized profits over everything else. Another hour of going through the shops and she had to stop her pursuit.

She had been walking for hours, and her feet were starting to hurt. It was getting late anyway. Gabe's parents had invited her over for lunch and she couldn't miss that. Roberto's tamales would never beat Luisa's, though his empanadas were giving her a run for her money.

“Hey guys Naomi said over the bell as she entered. Immediately Gabe's mom ran out of the kitchen to greet her.

"Ay, there's my future daughter-in-law," she pushed, giving the blonde a nearly bone crushing hug. Naomi rolled her eyes playfully and returned her hug just as fiercely.

"Blanca, Gabe and I have only been dating for two years." She put a hand on her shoulder, pulling away enough to give her a mock annoyed look. Blanca just laughed and patted her hand.

"That's nothing," Blanca said. "My parents knew I was going to marry Roberto the moment they saw us together." The man in question chuckled in the kitchen, muttering something.  "I tell you, it won’t be long now mija."

“Ok, you gonna keep talking or are you gonna get cooking?” Roberto asked, effectively cutting off the conversation. The girls entered the kitchen, Blanca kissing her husband on the cheek to relax him. Naomi made a mental note of that as she grabbed an apron.

“What’s next to make?” she asked.

“Cookies,” Roberto sighed as he stirred the filling for something. “I’ve got this, Naomi. You go ahead and rest. It’s your day off.”

Naomi waved a hand in dismissal and grabbed a bowl, spoon, and all the ingredients to make the batter. “It’s fine. I like cooking, especially with my family. Like making mazelberry cookies on Christmas Eve with my dad.”

“I know what you mean. Gabriel and I used to make pan dulce every Nochebuena.”

“Though most of the ingredients ended up on the floor,” Blanca laughed. Roberto shared it gratefully.

“And us.”

“Speaking of Gabe, where is he?” Naomi asked, making sure to measure the flour correctly. If she hadn’t been engrossed in that, she would’ve seen the nervous glances shared between the couple. 

“He’s uh, taking a siesta,” Roberto finally said. Naomi used the spoon handle to level out the flour. A loud yelp made them all jump, the flour shooting into her face. “Mateo, are you ok?”

“Sorry, Senor Nunez,” The royal wizard said, stumbling into the front counter. “Doing that teleportation spell on myself is always a bit disorienting." Mateo shook his head and managed to get his footing again. Then he locked eyes with Naomi, getting a slight glare in return.

"Don't even say it," she said. Mateo raised his hands in defense, though she very clearly saw the smirk fighting to form. She groaned quietly and took the rag Blanca had offered her. "What are you doing here? It's my-"

"Day off, I know. But Elena got a letter from a newly established kingdom," Naomi's eyes lit up, "And she wanted you and Gabe to help her decide what to do." 

"Eh, eh- you had me at 'new kingdom'. Let me go wake up Gabe."

"No!" Roberto and Blanca yelled together. Naomi gave them a curious tilt of her head. 

"Why not?"

Roberto looked down, stirring the filling and grateful that his wife blocked the way to the bedrooms and took over. “Gabriel is a grumpy sleeper, mija. I will wake him.”

“Besides,” Mateo interjected. “I can only teleport one person at a time. I’ll get you to the castle while she gets him.”

“Oookk….” Naomi said with narrowed eyes. She finished cleaning her face and took off her apron. “But just so you know, you guys are acting- ” 

“Congrix!” Mateo banged his tamborita, casting the spell on her. He’d get an earful later, but there were some things that she couldn’t know right now. Roberto and Blanca sighed as Mateo put a hand on his hip. “Ok, where is Gabe really at?”

“He should be at the Turner’s right now,” Roberto smiled. “With luck, he’ll get the answer he wants.”

“Gabe doesn’t need luck. But I better hurry if we wanna keep our stories straight.”

“Thank you, Mateo.” 

“Of course. We wouldn’t want the surprise ruined, now would we?”

Roberto chuckled and handed the wizard an empanada. “No we wouldn’t.” He nodded and took a bite of the food, sighing in content before turning his tamborita at himself and casting the spell.

. . .

Elena had been surprised when Naomi was the first to appear in the grand council chamber, but when she shouted “That doesn’t help your case!” to the ceiling it was clear why. Thankfully she deflected by showing Naomi the letter. Her chancellor was still looking it over and examining the royal seal when the rest of her family entered, apart from Esteban. Gabe and Mateo had startled her abuelo separately. He retaliated by hitting Mateo’s shins with his cane, making the wizard run behind Elena’s chair.

Gabe laughed which he soon regretted as her abuelo started doing the same thing to him. 

Mateo leaned down to whisper in Elena’s ear. “Is it just me, or has your abuelo gotten a bit crankier since he got that cane?”

“Oh yeah,” she nodded. 

“I heard that,” he grumbled. Luisa just patted his chest and led him to the nearest chair. Gabe was smart enough to hide his snicker as he took his spot beside Naomi and Elena, the former’s eyes following him even as he pecked her cheek. She relaxed slightly, but only for a moment.

“How was your nap?” she asked cooly.

“My- my nap?” Gabe stammered, avoiding her gaze. “It was, uh, good.” Naomi just narrowed her eyes. Elena shared a look with Mateo before calling the meeting to order. She went over the basics, reading the letter again so that everyone was on the same page. Isabel was the first to speak up and ask for the letter. 

“Everything seems to be fine,” she said. “Though, the name Fantasia sounds familiar.”

Gabe raised an eyebrow. “It does?” 

“You know,” Mateo interrupted. “Now that you mentioned it, I think some of my abuelos books mentioned it.”

“Do they say it’s a kingdom?” Francisco asked.

“I can’t remember, but I can go check.”

“I’ll help,” Isabel offered. Elena gave them both a nod and they ran out. Once

outside the chamber, the younger princess gave him a smirk. Now almost 16, Isabel nearly matched his height, and her dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail braid.

"So," she said, "What do you think about Fantasia? You think it’s really as good as Queen Verano said it was?"

"Hard to say. It could be a trap like when Ash-" Mateo stopped when her face fell, backtracking. “Other rulers should be coming, so I doubt that it is.” 

“A new kingdom to explore does sound pretty fun."

“Well right now, we need to explore what the books have.”

“You’re right.” Isabel punched him in the shoulder before running ahead and yelling, “Race you to the library!” Mateo called out in protest, saying he didn’t have his running shoes. She just laughed, banking right and apologizing to Esteban for pushing him. Mateo tried to avoid him completely, but simply couldn’t after slipping on the rug. He really should have given Esteban more than an apologetic glance, but after he had caused Elena so much pain and strife it was still hard to forget what happened. And how much danger she was put in because of him.

Back in the council room, no one could agree on anything. Both her abuelos were adverse to her going and especially going without them. Naomi's suspicion mixed with theirs kept Elena grounded. She wanted to go of course- the invitation seemed innocent enough and reminded her of the letters she sent to Satu and Paraiso when she was a new ruler. She said as much and got more support from Gabe and Naomi, but not enough to make a firm decision. It was all swirling around in her head the longer the conversation went on. Fantasia was new and her curiosity melded with the want to support the new queen. After all, she knew what it was like, and she wanted to be supportive. But she also had her doubts. What if the new queen was a tyrant like Shuriki? What if she was trying to trick Elena into a trap, like when Ash lured her to Cariza? When she almost lost her magic and her friends…

Elena had been through a lot in her life, and she didn’t want to put her family or herself in a dangerous situation if it was avoidable. 

It was only the combination of thinking of her mother’s song and Mateo’s smile that kept her dress from turning purple. She wished Isa had gone alone and he was still by her side. What would Mateo say right now? Honestly not much, other than a passing comment here and there. She still yearned for his comforting smile and the steady presence of his hand on her shoulder, which would have calmed her spiraling thoughts.

Elena took a deep breath and tried to focus on the conversation at hand. Her abuelos were arguing about whether or not she should go to Fantasia at all. Her abuelo was still adamant that she should not go, while her abuela was growing more open to the idea. 

As Elena tried to focus on the conversation at hand, her abuelos continued to debate whether or not she should go to Fantasia at all. Her abuelo remained adamant in his disapproval, while her abuela seemed to be softening her stance. Gabe gradually started to align with Francisco's position, while Naomi was now supporting Luisa. Though the latter team up was mostly due to the assumption that she’d go with or without their permission. 

And they were right. At the end of the day, the decision was hers to make.

Elena found her thoughts wandering to Mateo again as a sharp knocking at the door startled Elena. Blushing slightly, she cleared her throat and called out, "Come in." Esteban, with a timid demeanor, poked his head through the door, inquiring if he was late. Elena had previously asked him to gather her family, but she had neglected to specify that she didn't want him present.

Esteban timidly poked his head in. “Am I late? Armando told me that you wanted everyone to meet in the council room.” Right. Elena had just told Armando to get her family, not mentioning that she didn't particularly want Esteban there. 

Despite forgiving Esteban, Elena and her family found it difficult to fully trust him after his past actions. Looking back on their history before his betrayal, they discovered even more reasons to be cautious. Elena had placed him under castle arrest for two years and avoided seeking his direct advice on matters of the kingdom. While they still spent time together and had fun, Elena couldn't bring herself to trust him with most governmental responsibilities.

She had kept him on castle arrest for two years and had avoided asking for his advice directly, despite their past closeness and the fun they still had together. Elena simply couldn't trust him with most matters related to the kingdom.

Still, the hopefulness in his eyes had her waving him in. Gabe visibly tensed at Esteban's presence, but stood at attention instead of expressing his surprise. With a sigh, Elena began explaining the situation to Esteban, who listened intently despite the lingering distrust in the room.

“You see why we're having trouble,” Naomi offered as Esteban stroked his beard. 

“This is true,” he said. “But you have to admit, this new kingdom could be a great opportunity for a trade agreement.”

“Also, sailing to a brand new kingdom does seem pretty fun.” Gabe cleared his throat, earning a glare from the blonde. “What?”

“It still could be a trap,” Gabe said. 

Elena groaned, dragging a hand over her face. Everyone had valid points, and it made her long for the presence of her royal wizard. The faint purple magic that had started to make the paintings shake subsided after a few deep breaths from Elena.

She had wanted to go the minute she read the letter, wanting to show support for Queen Verano. For the moment, her family and friends were being as helpful as they could, but Elena was really starting to regret asking. Now she was torn between the potential benefits of establishing a trade agreement with Fantasia and the lingering doubts about its queen’s true intentions. 

Suddenly, in a bright burst of pink mist, a young girl appeared right next to Esteban. She was clad in a light lavender dress with pink accents, and Elena recognized her immediately.

"Sofia?" Elena exclaimed, surprised but happy to see her friend from Enchancia. "What are you doing here? And how did you get here?"

Sofia hesitated for a moment before holding up her amulet. "Ever since I saved you from the amulet, I've been in control of most of its magic. One of its new abilities is to transport me to assist other princesses in need, rather than the other way around."

Elena, Naomi, Gabe, and Francisco gasped in awe at Sofia's revelation, while Esteban and Francisco regarded it with confusion, which Sofia anticipated.

Esteban was the first to voice anything. "But Elena is a Queen, not a Princess."

"That is true," Sofia replied thoughtfully before gaining a determined look. "But I'm here, so I'm supposed to help with your problem." She blinked and glanced at everyone around the room before turning back to Elena. "Uh, what is your problem?"

Elena smiled despite her confusion. "Deciding on whether or not to travel to a new kingdom—Fantasia," she answered. To her visible surprise, Sofia's eyes lit up with excitement.

"That's great!" Sofia exclaimed.

Naomi raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah. Not only am I studying at Everealm Academy, but my parents have already decided to accept the invitation."

"They have?"

Sofia nodded. "Mhm. Mister Cedric will be going, and Amber is taking the lead instead of Dad." Esteban appeared ready to interject, but Elena firmly guided Sofia away, sending a warning glare in his direction. Esteban backed down, retreating to Francisco's side with a nod. Elena smiled when she realized Sofia hadn't noticed the exchange. “Crysta called and said that even Orion and Vega are going.”

“She must really want allies if she’s asking for The Mystic Isles Chief protectors.”

“I know. Queen Verano must want a lot of friends.”

“Want?” Esteban scoffed, ignoring the glares from everyone. “No no- It’s more likely she needs them. It's an essential aspect of ruling a kingdom.”

“Just like having friends is the most important part of life,” Sofia countered effortlessly. “And being a person. Everyone wants companionship, even royals.”  Elena smirked and placed a hand on her hip, while Naomi crossed her arms with the same amused expression. Esteban blanched and quickly conceded her point.

“Well, I think Sofia has made quite the compelling point,” Elena said, placing a hand on Sofia's shoulder. "What do you say we get ready for a boat ride?" When she was met with nods of agreement and an excited Naomi rushing out to prepare her parents' ship, Sofia sighed and gave Elena a quick hug.

"Now that that's settled, I guess I'm heading home." She stepped away, waving briefly to everyone. "See you all in Fantasia!"

"Bye, Sofia!" They all waved back, Esteban not quite as enthusiastically, and watched as she closed her eyes and waited. And waited. And waited…

"Um, Sofia?" Elena asked, tilting her head.

"Yeah?"

"You're still here," Francisco told her. The princess opened her eyes and sighed dejectedly.

"I should have known. It's never that simple." Luisa approached her and gently guided her out of the council room, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Don't fret, dear," Luisa reassured her. "We can meet your family there. And in the meantime, we can make tamales for dinner."

“I’d like that, Miss Luisa.”

. . .

Mateo had been all too thrilled to learn about the amulet’s new powers, questioning Sofia almost non stop. His excitement was palpable, but it made it hard for her to focus on trying to figure out the problem she was supposed to help with. The kingdom was doing fine, no big problems to solve. Elena’s relationships with her family and friends were fine, so nothing to fix there.

Shortly after dinner, Luisa had to shoo Mateo away for Sofia to go to sleep and give her some privacy. She led the younger princess to one of the spare rooms in the castle. The room was adorned with beautiful tapestries with the Avalor crest and had a large window overlooking the forest and the adjoining waterfall not too far off, providing a peaceful and serene atmosphere.

Luisa handed Sofia a lovely silk nightgown, soft and luxurious to the touch. "Thank you, Miss Luisa," Sofia started to curtsy, but the older woman waved her hands dismissively.

"Please, there’s no reason to curtsy, Sofia," she said with a small smile. "It’s a pleasure to have you here."

The girl looked down as she folded the gown over her arm, a hint of apology in her voice. "I’m sorry this visit was sprung so suddenly on you." Then, she muttered slightly bitterly, "It’s not like I can control everything the amulet does."

Luisa regarded Sofia carefully, studying her as the girl held the amulet. Though the lights were dim and her makeup done carefully, there were small stress lines around her forehead and dark bags under her eyes. Luisa’s heart went out to the young princess, who had been through so much in such a short time.

Gently, Luisa tilted Sofia’s chin up, meeting her gaze with a warm and understanding smile. "You rest, Sofia. I’ll let everyone know to let you sleep in as long as possible. Ah!" Luisa held up a finger to stop Sofia’s protests. "This is not up for discussion. A young girl like you needs her rest."

Sofia hesitated, but Luisa’s firm yet gentle tone convinced her. "But it’s not fair to everyone else," she protested weakly.

"But it is fair to you. Get some rest, Sofia." With those words, Luisa left the room, leaving Sofia alone with her thoughts. The girl sighed, feeling weary and overwhelmed and wanting to go home to her own bed. But until she fixed the problem, she was stuck here.

Sofia undressed and put on the silk nightgown, feeling the soft fabric against her skin. As she slipped beneath the covers, the plush pillows and thick comforter enveloped her like a warm embrace. The soft mattress welcomed her weary body, inviting her to surrender to the gentle touch of slumber. Gradually, her eyelids grew heavy, and her consciousness began to drift away into the tranquil realm of dreams.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the persistent buzzing and glowing of her enchantlet, startling Sofia awake. Disoriented, she sat up and groggily rubbed her eyes, then flicked the device to activate the call. To her relief, it wasn’t a protector but rather the familiar face of her royal sorcerer appeared on the screen. The protectors had been hesitant to grant him access to her enchantlet without one of his own, but at the insistence of her parents and Cedric, they had found a way to make it possible.

"Princess, where have you been? Your family and I have been worried sick," Cedric scolded her gently, his concern evident in his tone despite the mildness of his words.

"I'm okay, Mr. Cedric," Sofia yawned, her voice still thick with sleep. "I'm in Avalor. My amulet brought me to Elena." Even in her drowsy state, Sofia couldn't help but smile at the inquisitive expression on Cedric's face.

"Really? I thought it only took you to help princesses," Cedric replied, his tone a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

Sofia shrugged, a gesture that was both dismissive and weary. "I don't know. But it hasn't taken me back yet, so I haven't helped her yet."

"Did you figure out the problem?" Cedric asked, his voice laced with concern.

Sofia sighed deeply. "I thought I did, but it's never that easy." She started to tell him about how she was going to head to Fantasia tomorrow, but her words were interrupted by another yawn that she couldn't suppress. Luisa had been right—she desperately needed some rest.

Cedric noticed her fatigue immediately, and his voice softened to a gentle whisper. "You get some sleep, Sofia. I'll let your parents know that you are safe and sound. Goodnight, Princess."

Sofia wanted to object, but the gravitational pull of the bed was becoming irresistible. "Okay. Goodnight, Mr. Cedric," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

As the connection between them was severed, Sofia allowed her body to sink back into the soft comfort of the bed, her head cradled by the feather pillow. Almost instantaneously, she was enveloped in the embrace of sleep once more.

. . .

"According to the map, we should be arriving within the hour," Naomi’s mom announced to the crew below. 

Sofia beamed up at Naomi's mother with infectious enthusiasm. With a gentle smile, Naomi assisted Sofia in tightening the mainsail, their movements harmonizing in a fluid ballet of teamwork. As Sofia pulled the ropes with newfound strength, she couldn't resist a playful salute.

"Ay ay, Captain Turner!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing the call of a seasoned sailor. The unexpected salute almost caused her to lose her grip, but with a quick reflex and Naomi's steady support, she regained control, letting out a nervous giggle that betrayed her excitement.

"You sure are strong, kid,” Naomi couldn't help but comment. “But are you sure you don't want to go below with Elena and Mateo? We can handle this."

"I'm sure.” Sofia's resolute gaze met Naomi's, and with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she lowered her voice and leaned in closer. “Besides," she whispered conspiratorially, "I think they wanted some time alone."

A knowing chuckle erupted between the two girls as they completed tying off the rope, sharing a moment of camaraderie and understanding. Their shared laughter carried across the deck, a melody woven into the symphony of the sea.

“What are you two giggling about?” Gabe asked as he approached.

Naomi smirked. “Just the two people below deck with the most obvious crush on each other.” 

“Oh, that reminds me- They just finished tamales with Isa and told me to get you two.”

Sofia chuckled, glancing at Naomi. “I guess I am taking a break after all.”

“What about you, Naomi?”

“You two go ahead- I gotta talk to my mom about something first,” Naomi said, making her way to the helm. Gabe only got a moment to warn her to hurry because the jaquins were down there before Sofia dragged him away. Once the younger princess was well out of her view, Naomi let her upbeat demeanor give way to her suspicion. 

She’d noticed it days ago when they passed by Norberg. The way the map was taking them was familiar. From her few months of traveling on her own, she’d come by this way at least twice. She recognized the islands, the stars during the night, and any sailor worth their weight remembered where the calmest waters were.

She just had to be sure.

“What’s the matter, Nomes?” Her mom asked the moment she saw her.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Naomi answered swiftly. “Do you mind if I take a look at the map again?” Her mom nodded and handed her the map.

Naomi stretched it out on a nearby barrel, tracing the way they’d come carefully. Everything they’d passed was the same as her previous trip, from Norberg to Satu to the small archipelago just outside of-

“Hectoria…” she muttered.

“What was that, Nomes?”

“We aren’t going to a new kingdom, Mom- We’re heading to Hectoria.”

Previous / Next

[crescentblossom66]

Prompt 4 Hesitate

The wind howled through the holes in his tree stumb, the random screams of the lost souls that haunt the swamp were rather quiet today, and even the nooses didn't make a peep. Subcon Forest was strangely quiet without the little nuisance around. Snatcher wasn't sure if he was sad that the innsolent kid was gone for a bit, or happy that he finally had peace and quiet again. One thing was for certain, he was bored. It had been a while since new souls had wandered into his forest, no new people to torment and ridicule for their foolishness. Due to the stagnation, he was more than glad when one of his many minons told him that someone had wandered into his forest looking for mushrooms or somehting.

He could feel the presence of his next victim the closer he got, they were near the abandoned and broken down houses that were once full of life. Now, that old village was just a shadow of its former self. He sprung his trap, making thorny vines shoot up in a circle around his target that he could only assume was shaking in fear right now. “HAHAHAHA Foooooool! You blew it! You-” He rose out of the ground and was a bit surprised at who he saw standing in front of him, the person not even flinching, they were even smiling. “- totally...screwed...yourself...” He trailed off shrinking back to a smaller size, and speaking in a quieter, less extravagant and scary voice. “What are you doing here?”

The orange cat in chef's attire waved at him. “Oh hey there, I was trying to find new ingredients to cook with and a forest always has a great variety of mushrooms and berries. You don't mind if I take a look around, do you?” That cat was at the kid's spaceship, always hanging around in the kitchen, she even waved to him whenever she saw him.

“Uh...” He rubbed his head in confusion, not sure if he should take the soul of the cat or not.

“Hey boss, look! That newbie brought a basket with good looking and smelling food. It's a shame I can't eat though because you cheaped out when you made our bodies...Yeah...” A group of minions of his were leaning over a picnic basket that had sandwiches and cupcakes in it.

He briefly wondered if there was a sandwich that had bacon in it...it had been such a long time that he had bacon. “Would you mind lowerin' those vines here, sweetie, I'd like to explore the forest a bit. I promise that I won't break anything.” The orange feline gave a gently smile stepping close to the vines that he had created.

The purple specter shook his head after being brought back from his thoughts. “Yeah sure...You don't have a bacon sandwich in there by chance, do you?”

“Of course I do, the little alien child told me that you like bacon, so I brought a few with me...not sure if ghosts can eat solid food though...and I don't know how to make an ethereal sandwich yet, I'm woriking on it.” She wondered out into the forest after he brought his vines down again.

The group of minions watched the cat walked further into the forest before turning back to their leader. “Boss, shouldn't you steal her soul or something?”

He found it! He finally found some bacon in this god-forsaken forest! “Nah, I'm feeling rather generous today, I won't even punish you with outhouse duty for insulting me about the body I so mercifully granted you.” The minion shivered and was quiet after that.

[violettduchess]

I noticed licht doesn't have a kiss fic yet. Sorry, I know you're busy with the broken heartstrings series rn but I'm gonna trow it in anyways for when you might have time, before i forget about it [again]

hugs ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ and Love, V

A/N: Thank you for the request @viohasgoneintothewoods 💜 Licht has been requested several times before (hello Licht kiss anons!) but I wasn't sure how to fulfill it without it being a bit darker than some of the other kiss fics. But now that I have thrown myself into writing angst, this request fits right into Broken Heartstrings (and is a lot faster to write)! So here you go!

Word Count: 568

His name means “light.”

And when he holds you in his arms, you believe the warmth that fills your heart rivals any bright ray of summer sunshine. Peace and contentment flood you at the feel of his strong embrace, a fortress that would withstand anything if it meant protecting you. He is a bastion of love, a bulwark you can hold on to in the face of any turbulent storm.....but what do you do when those very arms are what is shaking? When the light you know he possesses begins to dim?  

His name means “light."

But the man you love is haunted by shadows. The past has a dark grip over him, long tendrils that snake their way silently through his mind, that wrap around his heart like black, thorny vines and squeeze. 

He is a paradox: delicate strength. Mighty fragility. 

In the bright light of desire, when he allows that passion to overrule any other emotion, he is as powerful as Helios. But instead of driving four fiery steeds across the sky, he is blazing a trail of kisses across your body. His lips are fire, stoking the heat in your veins, bringing a sunset-colored flush to your skin. As sure as the sun burns a beaming path across the sky, so does Licht set you aflame. His mouth is sure, his hands are steady. He is a torch in the darkness, lighting the way, leading you higher and higher towards the heavens. His name escapes your lips, the sound a comet of radiant light across the night sky. He kisses you and you are a supernova on the verge of bursting. You are Sirius, the brightest star in the heavens. You are filled with the light of his love and his adoration and his fervent need and you are unstoppable.

His name means "light."

But sometimes desire and love and want are not enough to spark that glow. Sometimes the darkness wins. Sometimes his mouth is unsure. His hands unsteady. Sometimes he does not think to reach for you at all because he is afraid that he is something foul, something that will not empower you but rather taint your goodness with something less than. He shrinks into the shadows, prefers to wrap his arms around himself, storm clouds pelting him with a cold rain that screams, “You are unworthy. You do not deserve this.” It is then your turn to reach out, through the stinging gray fog and find him. To pull him into the warm circle of your embrace, to run a hand over his soft, silver hair and press kiss after loving kiss against his chilled skin. You kiss understanding against his cheek, cold and damp with tears. You kiss acceptance against his pale forehead. You kiss empathy into the curve of his jaw. And you kiss his lips, feeling the way they tremble against yours, and give him all of your love, tender and patient. Over and over your lips touch his. Over and over you tell him wordlessly how deeply you love him. Over and over and over until the tremors that wrack his scarred body cease. Until his war-torn heart finds a steady rhythm once again. Until the haunted shadow fades from his luminous eyes. Until the well of tears has run dry. 

His name means “light.” 

And you will always find him in the darkness.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @bubblexly

[mewintheflesh-2]

(All of this was written over half a year ago, I just never got around to posting it, so the writing is likely to be a little outdated or strange. Once again im just posting from my drafts before i leave.)

NEW GIRL ALERT! Connie “Vira” Keristan

Leader and main member of Team Venom, whose goal is to take out any and every Evil Team at any costs necessary. She may or may not be able to travel realities.

Is an Assasin, she only works together with a select few people, and will kill to get people off her trail. Does not take clients.

Has quite the haul of impressive tech and gadgets, including but not limited to: Invisibility tech (including cloaking large areas), lazer beams, teleportation tech, and a WHOLE bunch of medical torture devices she should NOT have access to.

Main base is in the Pokémon world equivalent of Antarctica. Any other places she stays bare the possibility of being destroyed to pieces, so she sparsely takes residence in anywhere else but her main base.

Loves to torture people for info, and especially loves to torture Evil Team Leaders until they eventually give up their position or their lives.

If Fuse and her ever met I think they’d want to study each other like a bug under a microscope. Got forbid they actually get their hands on each other cause only one of them is coming out alive and I can’t tell you who. (Actually I can, it’s Fuse.)

And wrote a little something under the cut. :)

(The stuff under the cut is what all the whump and warning tags are for

Hanging from a grappling hook on the outer walls of Team Nightsky’s base, a woman peered through the window of Nightsky’s office.

Covered in a long, dark, hooded cloak held shut together by a belt beneath her chest, underneath was a dark purple uniform with the ensigna of thorny vines forming a point, dark purple shorts held up by a black and silver belt, baring a gun holster on each side of her body. Just beneath her shorts, a holster for a knife on her thigh, and beneath that, thick, black, heavy duty boots up to her knees. Her hair tied out of the way of her face in a bun, her face covered with a porcelain masquerade and a black cloth face mask.

She stared through her mask. Her prey, right in her sights. The only issue was how to get inside without being noticed… Or she could just go in guns blazing. Grabbing the rope dangling from her grappling hook, she hoisted herself upwards and began to speed up towards the roof. Pushing herself off the corner or the rooftop, she used the grappling hook to pull herself on top of the roof. Unhooking it from its place, she swung it in circles beside her as she walked.

It wouldn’t be easy to get to her destination without consequences, but she was prepared, and it was making everything so much more trivial than it should be. Who’s to blame for that other than *him* though? Not her fault he didn’t plan for people with invisibility tech and laser beams. Or if he did he sure as hell didn’t do a good job. Not a single guard even felt any motion from her walking right through their security.

Grabbing a gun from her right holster, she loaded a bullet sized vile of red crackling energy into the gun and pointed it at the floor beneath her, pulling the trigger.

The ricochet of the white hot energy bursting from the gun nearly knocked her down, but she quickly adjusted to the force and guided the lazer, cutting a hole in the floor beneath her. 

The circle of the roof that’d been cut by the lazer fell inside the room beneath it with a bang, dropping in along with it, Vira. 

Standing up tall on her “stage”, she stretched, “You know, if you’ve heard of me you’d know I’m not a fan of big fancy entrances like this, so let’s make this quick and easy.” She spat, though it quickly came to a halt when she realized her prey was no longer in the room she thought he was in. “Hm.” 

“Hello, Vira.” A voice came from behind her, prompting her to snatch her knife from her leg holster and slice at the speaker.

A hand grabbed her arm before it could reach the persons neck. Vira took this opportunity to get a look at who she was fighting. Her eyes widened as she yanked her arm from their grasp and flipped away from them. 

The leader of Nightsky himself. 

She exhaled sharply, putting the knife back in its holster. “Of course a target like you wouldn’t be so easy to snatch. Just gotta make things difficult huh.” She grinned. “Let’s make this fun, shall we?” 

“If you could even get close to harming me, sure, let’s.” The man of the Dark huffed, frustrated.

Slowly, they began to circle each other just around the broken piece of ceiling.

“So, you *have* heard of me. Flattering!” Vira said, hovering a hand over her left gun holster.

“How could I have not. Do you think I live under a rock? A World renown assassin only known for going after “evil team leaders”. You think nobody’s tried to warn me?”

The man slowly began reaching to his side, moving his long coat, revealing a gun holster of his own. Of course. Should’ve known someone like him always had a weapon on hand.

“Listen, I’m just a little flattered you know? Mister I’m The Only Person In The World That Matters, thinking about me! How sweet.” Vira smiled and chuckled sinisterly and she used her other hand to reach into another pocket.

He huffed again. “Don’t make it weird.” 

Vira reached for a syringe and a vile in her right pocket, and landed her left hand on the gun in her left holster.

The Man of the Dark quickly drew his own gun and pointed it right at her head, still continuing to circle eachother. And before she could take another step, he pulled the trigger and shot.

But… she wasn’t… there?

The man, unnerved, held his position and scanned the room. Suddenly he felt something tapping his shoulder, he immediately pointed his gun towards whatever it was and shot. But there was nothing there.

“Where…” Nightsky mumbled frustratedly, glancing around the room frantically,

Vira erupted into laughter. “Oh how fun! It’s like playing whack-a-diglett isn’t it?” Vira’s voice rang from everywhere in the room at once. “Except, not really, like at all! Not sure why I said that!” She chuckled as she slipped the vile she had in her hand into her syringe. 

“Why don’t you just show yourself already.” The man growled.

“Gimmie a sec will you?” Vira flipped the syringe in her hand and got in a ready position, just to the left of him, not too close, not too far away. 

“Ready?” She whispered sinisterly, excitement evident in her voice. 

Unveiling her location, she made a mad dash towards her prey, syringe in hand and ready to stab. The man’s eyes widened as he heard her footsteps, turning sharply toward her and grabbing her wrist right before she could reach him.

Before Vira could do anything to counter this, the man kicked her hard in the stomach across the room, her back slamming into the windowsill on the wall sending shape pains into her spine, the kick causing her to go into a coughing fit which intensified the sharp burns in her back.

“Using my missing eye to your advantage huh. How cruel are you really?” He tilted his head at her.

“Oh, please-” She choked up something that tasted of metals. “Couldn’t be cruler than you. And besides, we all know your eye isn’t really missing-“ interrupted by her own coughing, she began to shake a little. “You don’t have to lie.” She lifted her head to look at him, grinning underneath her mask.

The man could feel a rage begin to burn inside him. “Really now?” He grinned furiously as he began to walk towards her. “Then why don’t you tell me what really happened since you seem to know.” He bent down to firmly grab her by her neck and hoist her into the air. Vira choked on from her blood and his hand as she dangled from her neck. She reached her left arm up to his wrist, firmly squeezing it. Her right arm was still free, holding the syringe.. “I suggest you choose your words wisely.” He hissed.

“No-“ she squeaked out, smiling “No thanks.” Her right arm moved suddenly and sharply towards him.

Nightsky suddenly felt a cold, sharp stabbing sensation in his side, causing him to hiss. His grip on Vira loosened. “All this chatting has made me tired. But you’re about to be dead asleep.” Vira chuckled, injecting the syringes fluids into his body.

“…What…” He said, in an almost hushed tone. He suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion and burning pain wash over him, causing him to groan in agony. He ripped Vira’s arm away from him along with the syringe. Nightsky threw her to the ground as his breathing began to heavy, black beginning to spot around his vision, stumbling and struggled to stand.

Vira looked up at him and grinned underneath her mask, oh how beautiful the sight was. He stumbled forward and sideways, clutching his side. “What…. Did- didj you… DO-“ He hissed between gritted teeth, struggling to keep his eyes open, overwhelmed by the burning coursing through his veins.

“Nothing you need to worry about for now-“ She spoke quickly, interrupted by her choking. “Sleep tight,- Nightsky. You’ll be lucky if you ever- wake up again.” She erupted into a simultaneous laughing and coughing fit.

The man suddenly lost all feeling in his body, causing him to fall over onto his side. He struggled to keep his eyes open even barely, and as he did, he saw Vira as she struggled to stand and walk towards him. Right as she reached him, he passed out completely.

———

Nightsky’s mind began to stir awake after what felt like days, but what had really only been hours. There was something very cold beneath him. He shivered fiercely, opening his eyes to a blindingly bright light overhead. He tried to move his arm to block it from his eyes, but he found himself restrained. He tried getting up, but again something was holding him down. Something leathery. Rubbing directly against his wrists, ankles, neck, forehead, and chest. What happened to his coat, his shirt?

“Good to see you awake, mister.” A voice spoke as she moved the light away from him. As his mind began to clear slightly, he recognised the voice.

The man blinked, his eyes opening wider. “…Vira?”

“Mhm! Though I prefer Connie when I’m not out and about trying to, yknow, steal people.” Connie smiled, waving her hand around with vague gestures.

Memories of before he passed out came flooding to his brain, sending a rush of adrenaline through his system.

“What did you do to me? Where am I?!” He yelled, trying to make eye contact with Connie, but failing as she left his vision.

“Hey, hey! No need to yell! You’re just in my operating room.” She paused for a second “…I’d day you’re in good hands but knowing my track record with these things you absolutely aren’t.”

“Say, why don’t we play a game?” She spoke quickly after finishing her last sentence, as if trying to pretend she didn’t say anything. “I put you through hell until you give up being Ruler of Everything, and we see how close to death you get before you do!” Her smile was evident in her voice. “Or you can just give up right now, but where’s the fun in that?” She chuckled lightly

“Oh yeah! Be glad I didn’t remove your eyepatch. Well, I did for a second. Put it back cause it’s like… really gross under there, you know that?”

“You… What-?” Shame and rage washed over him, for a split second it felt like he wanted to curl into himself in some attempt to somehow hide himself. Instinctively, he tried and failed to cover his eyepatch with one of his hands.

Yes, he knew it was disgusting, he *lived* with it. The way she tried to tell it to him like he didn’t know made him want to rip hear skin off.

She smiled wickedly. “What did you not hear me or something?”

Just as Nightsky was about to speak, she interrupted. “Whatever. So what’s it gonna be, mister?” She asked as she opened various cabinets and drawers around the room for “medical tools.”

Despite his more sensible side telling him to just give up right then, and kill her when he’s out, his ego decided to play the long game. “Neither. You won’t be able to get much done before somebody comes searching for me.” He put on a fake, albeit convincing smile despite wanting to rip Connie’s own left eye out.

“Aww is that true? What about- Oh! You remember that one time you got so sick you nearly died and nobody knew for an entire week because everyone just thought you were having another episode?” She spoke from far beyond anywhere he could see.

His eyes widened, taking a second to respond “How did you-“

“Was all over the news! I’m surprised you didn’t know.” She interrupted. “I know so much more about you than you’ll ever be able to guess, sweetie.”

“Don’t call me that.” He hissed

“You’re not in any position to be making demands of me,” She interrupted, furrowing her brow as she pushed a cart next to the operating table the man was strapped down to. She picked a hair tie from her pocket and held it in her mouth as she grabbed a bunch of her hair, “Sho, rdy to get shtarted?” She pulled the hair tie from her mouth and tied her hair into a bun.

The man began to feel slightly nauseous. Nothing had even happened yet, why was he already feeling like this, he was stronger than this. He felt like an idiot.

“Gonna take that as a yes!” She smiled, picking up a small scalpel from the large cart in front of her.

Dramatically she raised the scalpel high above the man’s right bicep and slowly brought it down to touch his skin.

The contact from the blade made him shiver.

“We haven’t even gotten started yet and you’re already shivering, that’s just adorable!” She laughed at him.

“Shut. Up-“

He was cut off by Connie slicing the blade into his skin, causing him to tense up and inhale sharply through his teeth. 

“Yknow,” She spoke, pushing the scalpel deeper into his muscle, taking his sweet strained groans of pain. “for someone like you I expected more of a challenge. To snatch you, I mean. You didn’t even have anyone there with you! How sad is that.”

She release the blade from his skin for a second before stabbing it directly down into his arm, causing blood to splatter all over her hand. He moaned loudly in pain, tears springing to his eyes, his breathing began to quicken.

“Oh that sweet, sweet noise~” She smiled wickedly, watching his open wound bleed around the scalpel and drip down his arm. Letting go of the scalpel, she grabbed a small glass bottle of sea salt from the tray next to the table. Taking the cork from the bottle, she hovered it over the wound, looking directly into Nightsky’s eyes, still smiling.

Nightsky looked at her through the involuntary tears in his eyes and froze a bit.

“No-“

“Hmmmm sorry what was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.” She taunted, dangling the bottle of salt just over his bleeding wound.

Much to Connie’s dismay, he didn’t speak up. She frowned. “Cmon, you’re no fun.” she paused for a second.

“No, actually, thats a lie-“ she interrupted herself by pouring a decent portion of the salt into the gaping wound.

Nightsky yelled loudly in pain, all of his muscles tensing up as the salt absorbed the moisture inside his wound. “-this is a great time so far!”

Little “fireflies” began to circle his vision as he blinked away tears that trickled down into his ears.

“Stop- get- get the salt out-“ He hissed through clenched teeth. The tears in his ears muffling any sounds but his own voice

“What, you want me to dig it out with my bare hands? Ooh maybe I should.” She spoke, unaware all the man could hear was nothing but garbage noise.

Nightsky didn’t say a word, clenching his teeth and hands, trying not to feel the pain of the salt as intensely in any way he could.

“Now, I know we literally only just got started, but I’m giving you a chance to give up right now cause it’s only gonna get worse from here for you. I’m gonna be real upset if you agree because I’ve been waiting to do this for months, but I don’t want you to say no either. My own selfish desires or the sake of the world! So hard to choose, haha!” She said, still smiling gleefully. 

The man didn’t respond, only trying to regulate his breath. Fear and embarrassment taking over his mind 

“Aw, what? Run out of quips already? Looks like this is gonna be a standup comedy then.” Connie sighed disappointedly, ripping the knife out of his arm. The man let out a strained groan of pain once again and slowly began to speak. “If… if you think.. that’s going to get me to back down… you’re wrong.” He took a deep breath, composing himself and bracing for anything that could come next. He wouldn’t let her get him vulnerable again. Not as long as he was trying his hardest. 

“Ooohhh, so you didn’t run out! Looks like this’ll still be fun!” She chuckled, lightly dragging the scalpel down his arm to his wrist.

“Damn. Tied your wrists down the wrong way. Uhhhhh, alright I’m gonna unrestrain your wrist for a sec. Don’t move okay?” She paused for a second. “Who am I kidding you’re gonna move anyways.”

She unfastened the leather straps holding his wrist and forearm down and quickly backed away from him, which was the right call for her because as soon as he was free, he reached for whatever he could grab on the large tray cart next to him. He grabbed whatever he could reach and held it out towards Connie, not even registering what it was until a few seconds later. A butcher knife. The man stared in horror at what he held in his hand.

“Come on, that was supposed to be a surprise, y’know?” She smiled dissapointedlu, not threatened by the knife in her face at all. 

“You. What kind of sick shit are you into.” He glared at her, furious.

“Nothing that sick, just justice! And torturing people, obviously, but like what does that matter.” She paused. “Oh, that matters a lot to you right now doesn’t it?” She laughed. “Whatever! I gotta take care of that loose arm of yours and I know just the solution. E-let-tri-ci-ty!” She spoke, saying the last word in a sing-song tone. 

Before the man could react, she ran over to a lever behind his head and yanked it down, sending high voltage electricity into the metal operating table. What felt like burning lightning coursed all through Nightsky’s body, causing him to scream in agony, all his muscles tensing as much at physically possible. The tears from his eyes conducting the horrible sensation directly into his ears.

Connie, however, was struggling to get the lever back up again to shut off the electricity.

“Fuck- Just give me a second I’m trying to turn it off!” She yelled out over his screaming. “Please don’t let this be the way he dies that would be so annoying, please.” She whispered to herself and she struggled to push the lever back up. 

The man felt himself on the verge of passing out, spots of white lining his vision even as his eyes were shut tight. He could feel his hearing begin to disappear.

Unfortunately for him, just as he was about to get some sense of freedom via passing out or worse, Connie flipped the switch back up with a loud yell of exertion.

The man’s ears rang loudly as he felt his body twitch and writhe. It was the only thing he could hear. He felt numb. He couldn’t move, other than through the various muscle spasms all throughout his body. 

Connie sighed loudly. “JESUS. Note to self, don’t use that unless I want to instantly kill you.” She spoke as she walked back to the side of the metal operating table the man lied upon, plucking the knife from his clutched hand. 

“Try not to move right now okay? You’ll only make things worse for yourself, and I’ll have to electrocute you again.” She flipped the butcher knife around in her hand. “Or I could cut your arm off.” She spoke, looking into his glazed eyes, hoping to get a reaction out of the man. He didn’t respond. His body continued to twitch violently. 

“Riiight.” She put down the knife on the tray and re-fastened the leather straps around his arm, this time making sure his arm was facing the right way up.

“Think I’m gonna have to call in Bliss on this one and call it a day. Can’t torture you if you’re not even fully conscious.” She sighed “I mean, I don’t think you are? You sure as hell aren’t responding to anything right now.” She waved a hand in front of his eye.

No response.

She sighed again and walked away from the metal table towards a counter behind her. She opened a drawer with a tray of poke balls inside and picked up one labeled “Bliss”. Closing the drawer, she threw the pokeball in the air with her other hand, and out emerged a Blissey.

The Pokémon blinked its eyes open, smiling when it saw Connie and running up to her for head pats.

“Hi Bliss!” She said in a high pitched voice, patting the Pokémon on its head with her non-bloodied hand. “Sorry, but you’ve got work to do again.” She smiled softly at the Pokémon, who frowned chirped sadly in response.

“I know I know, you’re supposed to be on break, but you’re the strongest Blissey I have, and this case is special! We’re gonna be at it for awhile, alright? I promise I’ll take out out for a vacation when this is all done okay?”

The Blissey took a second, but chirped happily at Connie. “Great! Now, I need you to use heal pulse on this man okay? I accidentally electrocuted him a bit too hard.” She drew out the last few words.

The Blissey waddled over to the table, but it was too high for it. The blissed chirped at Connie for help.

Connie looked down at the blissed and then at the table. “Uh, right, hold on.” Walking behind the table again, next to the electrocution lever, she looked at a large panel of controls, one of which being a slider to raise and lower the table. She lowered the toggle almost all the way down, causing the operating table to lower with it, allowing Bliss to preform its heal pulse. Green light emanated from its paws, connecting to the man’s body, and began healing him and his wounds.

Connie frowned seeing the wound on his bicep heal, but if it had to be done it had to be done, she’d just have to… not electrocute him in the future, atleast until she got the lever oiled up and fixed. 

[pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer]

Rivers Branching (draft of opening)

As he tumbled downhill, crashing against or through at least a dozen trees along the way, Ash could only hope that the plethora of SNAPS he heard came from branches rather than his bones.  He finally skidded to a stop in a muddy ditch and tested his body: it hurt like hell, but he could still move normally.  With a heave, he pushed himself high enough to grab the edge of the ditch, but froze when he realized he could no longer feel the rain.  Looming over him was a tall, lanky creature with face and shell like a turtle, its gleaming yellow eyes locked on him.  The top of its skull was indented into a circular bowl of sorts, currently overflowing with rainwater.  Stooping, it slowly extended its webbed claw.

“Terribly sorry, friend,” it said in a hoarse yet piercing voice.  “Seems I misjudged the incline on that ledge.  Looked like a nasty fall—are you still in one piece?”

Ash grunted.  “Don’t mock me!”

The creature took a step back.  “Oh no, not at all.  I apologize if I came across as such.  Let me know when you’re ready to resume.”

Pulling himself up, Ash took a quick glance at his surroundings.  There wasn’t much to see: hills towered over either side of the valley, and all he could see beyond that was a pall of gray rainclouds.  He glared at his enemy and lifted one arm; in a matter of seconds, a reddish-yellow flower bloomed from his wrist.  “Let’s go!”

A vine rapidly grew from the flower, shooting across the gap ready to skewer its target.  The creature dashed aside and stayed low, changing direction after a few steps, and charged straight at Ash with its claws spread wide.  Ash hopped forward—the end of the vine buried itself in the hillside and retracted, reeling him out of harm’s way.  He rolled into a crouch just as his anchor freed itself, seeing that his foe was still bearing down on him.  A multitude of smaller vines grew from his flower, weaving a thorned glove around his fist, and he led with his shoulder before throwing a deadly straight…that missed spectacularly.  The air fled his lungs as the creature thrust an elbow into his gut.

“One thing I will say is that you’re quite determined.”  The creature slowly circled around him as he writhed.  “A strength to be certain, though one must take care to prevent it from congealing into pure stubbornness.”

Ash stabbed at it with a lance made of vines.  His foe kicked his arm back and grabbed his face—the water dripping from its skin was nearly enough to drown him.  The next thing Ash knew, he was in a heap on the far side of the valley.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.  Truth be told, friend, I find myself starting to wonder if you truly knew what you were getting into.  I mean really: a land-dweller picking a fight with a kappa in the middle of a rainstorm?  If your aim was to win, then one would think you’d have at least waited for the weather to clear up!”

“Oh, shove it!”  Ash climbed to his feet, wiping blood and dirt from his face.  “I’m not giving you the chance to make it back to the Earl!  One way or another, I’m going to wring you dry right here!”

He formed a bow next, sending forth a volley of arrows.  The kappa swiftly wove around the projectiles.  Just as it prepared to pounce, the next arrow exploded in mid-flight, scattering arboreal shrapnel across the creature’s path.  It managed to stop its forward momentum, but Ash didn’t let up: he kept firing arrows until he saw the kappa stumble and fall directly onto one of the thorny caltrops.  The bit of plant matter lit up, followed by a terrible shriek from its victim.  The kappa rolled onto its back and clawed at it frantically, its skin slowly but surely constricting and shriveling as the moisture was rapidly siphoned out of it.

“Got you!”

Ash ran forward, reshaping his bow into another glove.  Once he was close enough, he leapt at the kappa, summoned all his might, and slammed his fist down.  He struck only dirt.  The kappa flung itself just out of reach, plucked out the caltrop accosting it, and then smashed the human fighter’s skull into the ground.

“Haah…that was…clever…”  It rose slowly, the rain quickly restoring its body to health.  “My apologies: I underestimated you.  Allow me to rectify that mistake.”

Ash’s head throbbed.  He flopped a few inches away, short vines from his flower swiping blindly, but it did him no good as the kappa strode over, picked him up, and bit into his shoulder.  Pain shoved aside all other thoughts as the creature’s powerful beak cleaved flesh from bone, keeping firm its grip even as the kappa pulled back and spat.

“Mrrmm…that’s right, I forgot.  Those primroses of yours leave some truly dreadful seeds throughout the host’s body.  Pity: a waste of perfectly good food.  In that case…”

It bared its claws.  Ash did his best to push through the pain, to dig up some last reservoir of strength, but only a single thought came to his mind: Marisol…

The kappa turned sharply; another arrow was flying towards it, and it slashed through the bolt.  A cloud of spores burst out of the splintered arrow.  Gasping and choking, the kappa dropped Ash and stumbled backward.  Ash hit the ground hard but got right back up.  He began to lift his arm once again, but someone stepped in front of him: a young woman about his age wearing an armored wetsuit identical to his own but with patches of red rather than gray.  Sitting in her hair, glowing brilliantly, was a flower like the one on his wrist.  “Don’t be stupid—get back!”

“M…Marisol?”  He winced.  Vines from his flower were wrapping tightly around his shoulder to staunch the bleeding.  “You’re here already?  How did you stop the other one so fast?”

Marisol didn’t answer.  She kept her gaze fixed on the kappa, who cleared its throat one last time before wiping its beak.  “Well now…that was a bit underhanded, don’t you think?  In any case, I should introduce myself.”  It spread its arms and bowed.  “I am Kamikawa Getsumaru, Baron of the Western Antarctic Islands, here by request of the Earl of the Southern Waters.  And you are?”

Marisol stepped back.  “Not alone.”

A bolt of lightning shot down from the sky just then, striking Kamikawa dead-on.  It shrieked once again as the electricity surged through its entire body, leaving it charred and smoking when it had passed.  Ash’s eyebrows went up.

“I’ll give you one chance,” Marisol said.  The flower in her hair fanned out its petals, slowly extending four long vines covered in thorns.  “Leave.  Now.”

Ash reached for her shoulder.  “Mari, wait, we can’t just let it go!  We—ow!”  A vine lightly smacked his fingers away, making him recoil.

Almost groggily, Kamikawa looked around the valley, but ultimately it took another bow.  “I think…I shall accept your gracious offer.  Well-played, humans.  I look forward to our next meeting.”  And with that, it was gone.

Ash grunted.  “…Thanks.  I owe you one.”

Marisol whirled and grabbed him by the collar.  Her teeth were clenched, and orange light burned in her eyes.  “I’m real fucking tired of you owing me!  How have you still not learned to avoid getting nearly killed in the first place?!”

“I didn’t…”  A range of emotions flipped through Ash’s mind, but beneath it all he could feel a layer of shame providing a foundation.  “It’s…not…”  He took Marisol by the wrist—she was trembling.  “…I’m sorry, alright?”

“No, it’s not.”  She gave a long sigh as she let go of him.  “But…now’s not the time.”

Ash then realized they were not alone.  Standing nearby was someone new: another human, middle-aged if Ash had to guess from his white bear and frayed gray hair.  He wore badly scratched glasses that hid his eyes, and the trench coat he wore looked to be made more of dirt than of cloth.  Ash’s eyes settled on the massive tome tucked under his arm.

“Is that a spellbook?  I guess you’re responsible for that bolt, then.  Thanks for your help, mister, uh…?”

The ragged stranger slowly adjusted his glasses.  Marisol fidgeted too, which made Ash feel very uneasy very quickly.

“It’s been a long time, Ashton,” the stranger said.  “…I do apologize for that.  My name is Garrick Blackwood.  I am your biological father.”

Ash blinked.  He turned to Marisol, who nodded.  He looked at his primrose, which stood eerily still.  Looking back up at Garrick, he began to feel faint, and blurted out the only thing he could: “…What?”

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~

Ash lay on his back in the tent serving as a makeshift infirmary.  His shoulder was properly bandaged but still bleeding, so he had been instructed not to do anything too strenuous.  That order was impossible to fulfill, however, since Garrick perched like a gargoyle on a chair next to his mat.

“Are you in pain?” Garrick asked.

Utter anguish, asshole, Ash thought.  Out loud, he instead answered, “I’ll be fine.  Something like this should only take a day or two to heal.”

Garrick glanced at the flower on Ash’s wrist.  “Ah, yes.  I’d been told that enhanced healing was one of the advantages granted by the scorch-wither primroses Laverne has been employing.  Remarkable specimen: there have long been theories about sapient plant species, but the idea of one being psychic seemed ludicrous.”

Ash shifted, watching the flower sway gently.  “…Zoe.”

“Pardon?���

“Her name is Zoe.”

“Ah.  I see.”

Rain drummed against the sides of the tent.

“Ashton, I—”

“Why don’t we just cut to the chase?  Where the fuck have you been?  You abandon Oren and me before I’m even a week old, and now, twenty years later, you suddenly decide it’s a good time to drop by for a visit?”

Garrick took a long pause.  “I was searching for something.  I knew it would be too dangerous to bring the two of you with me, so I left you in Laverne’s care.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“If there were any other option—”

“Raising your sons wasn’t an option?  What was so damn important you had to drop everything, huh?”

Garrick opened the book he carried.  “A way to defeat the kappa regime once and for all.”

Ash lifted his head.  “…What?”

“I had a lead,” Garrick said, flipping through pages.  “In my studies of magic, I had gathered enough evidence to suggest that an exceptionally powerful grimoire was involved in High King Kuzenbo’s plan to seize control of the planet.  It stands to reason that, if this grimoire can so completely change the state of the world, it can also be used to undo that change.  But I needed more information: exactly what I was looking for, an idea of where to find it…”  He paused before flipping the next page.  “It took far, far longer than I was expecting.”

After turning the page one last time, he held the book out for Ash to see.  Spread across the open pages were a few photographs of a book changing hands and copious hand-written notes he couldn’t entirely make out.  At the bottom, in large, clear letters, was printed “WUKONG CODEX".

“It exists, without a doubt.  And there are several accounts claiming that, among the eclectic list of spells it details, it contains information about chaos magic—highly effective in dismantling a world-spanning order.”  He snapped the book shut, giving the closest thing to a smile Ash had yet seen.  “With this, we can take them down.  I’ve tracked it and believe it to be somewhere in the vicinity of the Eurasian Delta, so I felt the time was right to share my findings with Laverne and secure her assistance in conducting an extraction.”

Ash stared at the book, dead-silent.  Garrick stiffened.  Before either could say anything more, the tent rustled and Marisol stepped inside; a large, flat leaf had grown from her primrose to shield her from the rain, and it flicked the water outside before retracting back into the flower.  Marisol stayed near the door squinting at Garrick.  After a moment, he rose.

“…I suppose I should let you rest.  We can talk more on the way back to headquarters.”  He raised one hand, hesitated, and then pat Ash on his good shoulder.  “It is…good to see you, Ashton.  Sleep well.”

Ash stayed quiet as Garrick left.  Marisol came to his side and crossed her arms.  “…How do you feel?”

He tried to put it into words.  In the end, all he could do was shrug one shoulder with a sweeping gesture.  Marisol smiled.

“I guess that’s to be expected.”  She reached out towards his primrose, lightly brushing it with her fingers.  “Zoe seems flustered too.  We really need to get her some sunlight ASAP…”

“Did we bring a UV lamp?”

“Nope.  Didn’t think we’d need it since we weren’t supposed to do any fighting.”

“Ah…right.”

She crossed her arms again; he could hear her foot tapping.

“…Right…”

Marisol looked up at the ceiling.  “I don’t want to press the issue right now, but…can I just ask what you were thinking?”

“Oh?  Well, first of all, thank you for assuming that I was thinking.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Haha…I, um…I thought I had an opportunity, really.  I didn’t see that kappa had backup, so I saw a chance to take it out and prevent whatever intel it had gathered from making it back to the Earl.”  He scratched his bandages.  “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Marisol’s foot stopped.  “Hm.  And, did you think at all about who else your actions might impact?”

“Yeah, I consulted Zoe, made sure she was okay with it before—”

“That’s not what I mean, Ash.”  She leaned over him, their gazes locking.  “Did you think at all about how the rest of us would feel if you died?”

His heartbeat quickened—he winced as the increased bloodflow seeped out of his wound.  “I…it wasn’t my plan to die, but…if I did, then at least I was helping to keep you safe.”

“So no.”

“I just said—”

“No, that’s not thinking about how we’d feel.  That’s not thinking past the situation you made for yourself!  I would still have to wake up tomorrow knowing that you were gone—I would still have to carry that pain for the rest of my life.  But you never think about anything beyond the fighting!”

Ash scowled.  “Hey, that’s not—”

“No?  Okay.  What if we toppled the kappa regime tomorrow, then?  What would you do with yourself after that?”

Ash averted his eyes.

“You haven’t thought about it, have you?  At all.”

“Alright, what’ve you got, then?”

Marisol turned away, sitting on the side of his mat.  “Plenty!  I’ve already begun gathering samples of various plant life and roughly plotted out where they need to be grown to repair the Earth’s biodiversity.  I want to learn to cook—I could start now, sure, but it’s not like we have the resources for me to learn much other than different ways to grill fish.  And little things: I want to visit an old-fashioned beach, sail on calm waters, run through a field of flowers so big I can’t see the end of it…”

Ash looked up at her.  A dull ache began to form in his heart.

“…I want a house.  Two-story, somewhere rural, with a greenhouse for my botany studies.  Some sort of pet, I don’t know what.”

Ash picked at his bandages.  “…And, uh…any other humans living in Marisol’s Dream Home?”

She turned her head.  “That mostly depends on you.”

He nodded.

“Ash…I know things look bleak.  I get that fighting against the regime is the only way you feel like you have any control—I don’t want you to stop.”  She gently took his hand.  “But the only way any of us are going to get through this, if we want to keep even a shred of our souls intact, is to have something to hope for when the fighting is over.”

The ache grew stronger.  “…Okay.  I’ll give it some thought.”

She smiled.  His pain vanished for a moment.  She lifted his hand, kissed it, and said, “Rest up.  We’ll head back in the morning.”

“Okay.  Good night.”

[quirkthieves]

@4heroes liked this for a villain ibara au starter

"Oh... You are but a lamb. How cruel, that they have sent a child into my thicket."

Despite the thick, thorny vines digging into Midoriya's limbs and throat, warm palms gently cup his face, bringing him eye to eye with the natural disaster-- who appeared to be a girl no older than him, even though she had called him a child.

In fact, despite the rivulets of blood bubbling in the wake of the thorns on his skin, the villain didn't radiate malice in the slightest. His brows knit together, and dark eyes quickly fill with tears.

"I don't know why... I don't know why they keep sending you to me! I will not suffer such negligence-- Be not afraid, my child. You will be safe from such indignities here." One hand gives him a reassuring caress before the villain pulls away, looking around her makeshift clearing fretfully. Behind her, past his mumbling and fidgeting, was the reason Izuku was there; a wall of crucified heroes and villains (and some civilians), from Chargebolt and Cellophane to Kamui Woods and Mt. Lady, to now Bakugo-- all painfully entangled in thorns and unconscious; some, like Mt. Lady and Bakugo, had them far more concentrated around the mouth and throat, making it clear how they had been neutralized. Until now, no hero had made it to the center of the rapidly-expanding vine infestation and returned to tell the tale, leaving the other heroes on the scene with no clue as to what the nature of the problem or the individual responsible could even be. Hellflame and Half-Hot, Half-Cold, ran the risk of turning the quarter of the city that was entangled in greenery into a giant conflagration trap, and so they had been forced to try and maintain a strong border against the overgrowth and prevent it from tearing down even more buildings while Midoriya feigned capture with a bodycam and location tracker at the ready.

"Oh, poor thing...He's just a boy." The crown of thorns at Ibara's temples circles and tightens as he laments, reopening chains of scabs that indicated this wasn't the only time it had happened that day. "But when they send you-- but when those devils send their lambs to me, they come with the hearts of wolves. The last boy... the last boy they sent me tried to pull out my roots...! Ahh... I don't know..." Bakugo's defeat hadn't been without a cost; the clearest of which was a blotch of charring and blood over one temple, accompanied by the odd branching of torn up root ends, ones normally hidden under the skin. The vines over it hadn't regrown, either.

"God, is this boy meant to be my Isaac? Will his blood prove my devotion?" All of the vines writhe as she clasps her hands, causing the captives who still have the wherewithal to groan in pain to do so. Tears continue to flow, and while she groans with frustration, one could catch a glimpse of a tongue dyed black. Further surveying of the scene reveals a small backpack-- not destroyed and marked with the insignia of a regional private Christian junior high, glimmering with vials of trigger.

"Oh, lamb! You do not lie as these others do, do you?" She turns back to him, two hands tugging at his own scalp in an attempt to self-soothe. "I will let you bear witness to my ministry if you be good. I do not want to discipline you unless i must!"

[the-white-soul]

Flowey: You don't care about your own kid! Toriel did! I did! If anyone is listening right now, that should make sense. I bet a blind person could make the most rational decision here if that means they can't tell who's human or monster.

You're calling them dumb them nonstop, saying and acting like you don't even care, degrading monsterkind which had the only people who actually showed them love. What kind of a living being are you? Is everyone insane here?! I showed you proof and yet you still think we were bad to them! Why would they trust us so much when they ran away from you, their "family," to kill themselves, only to fail and kill themselves again for our sake!

*He's providing so much good reasoning, but this woman remains full of so much hate and ignorance. What's the point in trying to be nice if this is what he'll get? Almost no one else is even trying to speak up (Thanks, John) which gives thim the impression either no one cares and they're all with Chara's mom, or they're too scared to say anything. Either way, that means there's no reason for him to not lash out.*

What the fuck did you do to Chara?!

*Vines suddenly grab and whip the crazy mother, and even worse than the way the police beat Toriel, Flowey begins to snap bones and slash deep cuts without a moment of rest. He wraps a vine around her head, adding increasing pressure until it would explode like a watermelon. The whole time he forms a tall, thorny circle around them that would push away anyone who got close, preventing anyone from interfering and shielding the eyes of children and cameras. Once she is killed, he drags the body under the dirt and lets down the makeshift barrier. He looks angry and slightly teary-eyed. He mutters to himself.* ... I bet Chara felt way more pain than that.

All the others flee far, knowing what they're up against. (Kara) "Wow, that was fantastic." Papyrus had his mouth wide open. (Dess) "Why didn't you tell me about his power? Yeah, I know they stopped Clover, but an entire field of people. Speaking of fields, I should tell you something important. The Flowey in this world isn't Asriel. I don't know who it is. No one besides Frisk does." (Kara) "Well, let's meet this Flowey. John, you're coming too." (John) "Well, I guess the humans would kill me in an instant. I'll go." We all started 'walking'(Flowey just digs) to their home. (Kara) "Hey, speaking of which, what did make you want to be a good person.' (John) "I was one of Chara's classmates and… There was a brief pause as John looked to Flowey I'm not going to say what happened unless Flowey wants to know. Long story short, it made some of us very angry. Thank god she's dead now." Flowey popped out of the ground (Flowey) "Hi everyone." (Kara) "Um, hi. Why do you…" (Dess) "KARA GET DOWN!!!" A barrage of bullets comes Kara's way, which they dodge. (Flowey) "What's wrong? You must've learned already. I see you have a little flower friend yourself. Hi Buttercup, you have a fire inside you. I'm glad at least that never changed. So cat's out of the bag, I'm not just Flowey." (Kara) "Well, what's your name?" (Flowey) "I've been called many things in my day, a demon to some, a savior to others, but to you, buttercup Shows heart locket I'm your best friend forever!!!" (Kara) "Chara." (Chara Flowey) "Yep, that's me." (Kara) "This is great. I can bring you to the humans. I'll have…" (Chara Flowey) "You think they would care? You and I both saw what happened back there. Plus, it's funny." (Dess) "FUNNY?!" (Chara Flowey) "You don't realize how hilarious this is? People are as blind as a bat. I can't believe it sometimes. Humanity always surprises me." (Kara) "I know, but it's worth trying to see if humans agree." (Chara Flowey) "Started laughing in everyone's faces. You're being serious? Your pain is the most fun I've had in a while. Why would I give it up?" (Kara) "You are one of the worst Floweys I've ever met." (Chara Flowey) "I want to watch the world burn. =)."

[randomshorties]

(Art by Rose Characters on Facebook)

An angel right in front of me? In the middle of... nowhere? What kind of hallucination is this giant white void? Am I dead? What is happening?

"Fear not, noble human.", she speaks, pulling me from my deep thoughts. "You are not dead, you were just chosen by our god."

She's... blushing? "Wait... Chosen? For what? And why me?" "You were chosen for you abilities. Our god has seen your achievements in countless different worlds, and has chosen you as the Hero from another world to help liberate ours."

"Abilities? I don't have any, I just push paper in an office and play videogames on my spare time! ... wait." It suddenly dawns on me. "Are you talking about the games I've completed 100%?"

"Indeed. You've amassed a very impressive collection of abilities in all those worlds you've saved."

"But all of that was fiction! I can't shoot, I can't use a sword, I can't use magic, I can't even ride a bycicle!"

The angel raises a hand, and it's glowing. "Worry not, noble human. All those skills are still inside of you, you just need..." She points her finger to me, and that glow jumped from her hand to surround me. "... to awaken them."

I... have no idea what she did to me. But I can feel it... I don't know how, but now I know how to do all those things I've said I can't do. I can feel the power running though my veins!

"Please, hear our plea. Help us liberate the world, as the prophecy foretold." She walks closer, really closer, now I could touch her if I just reach out with my hand. "If you do it, we'll be forever in your debt."

A green circle starts glowing under me, shining up a very bright light. I can feel something happening. "Wait! Who are you? What is this?"

"If you succeed in your mission, I swear by my name, Maion, that I'll personally reward you with whatever you desire that's in my power."

The green circle under me now is formed by thorny vines that start wrapping me up from my legs. It doesn't hurt, but the sensation is... weird.

[lrdvyke]

@luredeep continued from here !

He's dead.

A statement that stills Vyke. It shouldn't have. He should've known, what with their long walk down from the mountain, through the ash that filled boots and helm both. What with each night and day that Vyke filled with questions when no signs of Rogier but the growing weight upon Darian's golden back was shown. Vyke is quiet regardless. He listens to the tale that circles back around to the stark realization that three are back to two was once down to just one ( will it be one again? ) because Death has claimed Rogier.

Surely you remember.

Vyke remembers all too well. The knowledge he gained by those within the Ancient Dragon cult: the death of the Golden Sun of Leyndell, the dragon's champion, the prince of Death himself. He gave what he learned to Rogier—some already known, others just then realized. Curiosity bloomed as sure as ever. And, in turn, from the mouth of the Spellblade came his own knowledge to give as if in trade. All digging ever deeper that which to drop the seed within a wondering mind, until the flowering plant of leaking death and frenzy comes forth finally to be realized in the likes of creeping thorny vines, or the engulfing grasp of burning fingers.

Curiosity does that to you. Here. In the Lands between.

Is it my fault? No. No. Coincidence ... that is all it must be. Mouth dry, he licks his lips, tasting the salt and sickly burning bitterness of his amalgamed tears. A small sound slips out of him as his eye blurs further with the coming burn. Tears leak forth, springing only out of one side, setting a new pain to come across his covered face. The rising tide of grief is so familiar to him that it feels more rooted, more stable, because he knows what becomes of it even if he tries to hold it down. ❛ Do not take your anger out on him. ❜ Is what he finally says to it all, quiet and strained, pleading almost. ❛ Must he have followed your exact guidance to be deserving of your mercy, even now when he has no voice of his own? ❜

Vision tunnels, the frenzy feels ever closer now like it had back upon the Mountaintops ( in the back of his throat, the meager flame in the palm of his hand sputters, the back of an eye, the blaze in his empty socket flickers in hunger ). The tears fill even the helm then and slip from the bottom as if it is his second eye. Vyke is quick to clean them, sticking to worn metal gloves, lest their very presence mar those untouched. ❛ Neither leaving was done out of a spite for you, Darian ... but what you feel in answer is. You watched him die and held onto that anger. ❜

Is that how you look at me now? Vyke wishes to ask, but he swallows it. This is not about him, but the voice in the back of his mind returns filling with scathing irrationality.

[lairofdragonagelore]

Patterns and Styles: Elvhenan

The amount of elvhenan ruins in DAI and their details allow us to identify patterns that belonged to the elvhenan architecture. Many of these are clearly the inspiration from where Orlesian design took theirs.

This series of posts are not exhaustive since I’ve developed a very detailed list of tags tracking certain features of a given design. These posts merely try to gather in one place the symbols and elements I used most of the time when identifying buildings in my analysis of DAI.

[This post is part of the series “Patterns and Styles ”] [Index page of Dragon Age Lore]

Patterns

Patterns are usually seen in the borders of the door frames or around the windows of an elvhenan building. Sometimes, these patterns decorate the walls of big keeps such as Suledin Keep. When we see these patterns in a building, we are immediately told that the origin of it was elvhenan, no matter what a contemporaneous, unreliable narrator may tell us via codices. Thanks to these details, we can know that codices such as  Valeska’s Watch, which tries to explain the origin of the Valeska’s architecture as merely built by Grey Warden is not entirely true: the original structure IS elvhen, and we know this thanks to keeping an eye on patterns like these.

The main patterns I gathered are the following:

1 - It’s a patterns that looks like a small sun-like, but it could also look like an egg in flames [I wish I could know how to extract these elements from the game in an easy way, so I don’t have to deal with pixeled images]. The only important elvhenan object that comes to my mind related to this is the red dragon egg.

2 - I call this elvhenan pattern “flowers made out of circles”, and they are present even in very ancient elvhenan architectures such as the Solasan Temple. It’s a very typical patterns which may have inspired the thorny-flower-pattern of Orlais [right side]. If the Golden Ring is truly important in the Elvhenan culture, I may even say that this “flower” hides a “ring” in the centre of it. 

3 - This one is a very subtle pattern that makes us remember a lot the way the Veil or magical barriers are paint in Murals in DAI: Basics. It’s also one of the basic patterns we see around Orlesian door frames, so I assume they took inspiration [or directly stole it, since it’s the same one] from this one.

4 – It’s a simple pattern of equidistant squares, which has some distant “flavour”  to Dwarven style.

5 – Semi-circles are very commonly used too, usually presented in this exact way: two opposed rows of semi-circles.

6 – It’s the repetition of the pattern 1.

7 - It’s usually a vertical pattern that we see in columns or walls that extends from the ground up to the ceiling.  Curiously, it’s a pattern that I can see it may have inspired the typical pattern we see in Tevinter walls/columns, where serpent-dragons eat each other as they twists upward. The elvenan one is a symmetrical version, usually presented in the main chambers of the elvhen temples. Sometimes, in the main chambers, this pattern is painted in golden.

8 -  It’s an undulating line, usually seen in stair steps. We know how meaningful undulating lines are inside elvhenan art [details in Murals in DAI: Basics]. We can see this pattern decorating the main murals found in DAI too.

9 – Intertwined eluvian-like shapes. This pattern usually decorates handrails, and is present in main chambers.

10 - Another pattern usually seen at the basement of the elvhenan statues is this one, which emulates eluvians frames inside domes of similar shape. This pattern may have inspired another we can see in the Orlesian art, specially in the Winter Palace bell.

Architecture

The most distinctive detail about elvhenan architecture are its entrances frame and windows frames made in the shape of eluvians. The windows have a pattern of branches or “vines” upside-down inside them. This same pattern is seen in one of the mosaics of Fen’Harel’s mountain ruins, in the one where the chained figure is put upside-down.

Windows usually have three repetitions of the top of an eluvian’s shape, giving an impression of a gill. Windows and entrances are always decorated with the aforementioned elvhen patterns around their borders.

Important chambers in elvhenan buildings are painted in golden and green, and their ceiling have a resemblance to Gothic ribbed vault styles

Mosaics are important in the elvhenan architecture. They usually decorate their walls or floors. The yellow-brownish mosaics that we usually find on the ground seems to be used to focus something important on its centre: the Asterisk Symbol, that could be understood as a proto-symbol of a sun but also we know that the elvhenan related it to a Titan’s heart, is usually used to place a statue/element of great importance on it. In the case of the petitioning chamber of the Temple of Mythal [ Temple of Mythal in detail], it’s the petitioner themselves who is placed in the centre of it. In places like Shattered Library, we find the red dragon egg on it, or the spirit of The Archivist. In temples like Temple of Mythal, we find the statue of Mythal in the middle of it, or a brazier in the chamber of Sylaise [which element is Fire]. In places like Cradle of Sulevin, each of the statues that keep a fragment of the legendary sword are placed on the asterisk symbol. In fact, if we see the whole configuration of the floor mosaic, it seems to suggest a Quincunx symbol.

Another kind of floor mosaic, sometimes seen on walls [as in The Lost Temple of Dirthamen] is the one that looks like a “flower” but I think it’s and oversimplification of the Quincunx symbol. We can even understand this one as an oversimplification of the previous detailed floor mosaic.

Decorations

This is one of the most repetitive Elvhen symbols I saw, it’s usually found on boxes, but also on Elvhen funerary lid. There is a hint of a unique symbol in Hinterlands: The Unknown Ruin that seems to relate to this one, but so far, it’s a symbol that I barely could relate to a very styled, geometrical halla. 

Due to its undeniable link to the helmet of a regular Tevinter mage soldier, I consider that there must be some connection with dragons too [otherwise, Tevinters would have no interest in it, so far we know]. This symbol also appears in several mysterious concept arts that give no hints to understand it. I hope DA:D will provide answers eventually.

In some places, such as Cradle of Sulevin, we find this decoration which has an important relevance in Elvhen history: thorny vines and sun-symbols appear in it giving the impression of being related to the codex Veilfire Runes in the Deep Roads but also to all those unreliable Dalish tales about Elgar’nan. Curiously, better versions of this symbol can be found in Fairel tomb’s dwarven seats. I’m not so sure if this asset can be considered irrelevant, since it’s used in Elvhenan temples, as well as backrests of dwarven chairs, but seems to have quite important elements of DAI lore to be totally overlooked.

This object is compounded of three elements that, depending on where you find it, some are on the background or the foreground. The main element are the thorny vines. In Cradle of Sulevin we find different versions of it while we trigger the Vir Tanahhal, the path that Andruil has “given” to the Dalish [some of these versions don’t have the upper figure that looks like a gem] while in others it is on it; the dwarven version keep it in the background. 

This pattern, usually only seen in walls of elvhenan temples, will be maintained by the Dalish in their clothes. Curiously, it’s also a common pattern in the clothes/armour of the Qunari.

An important element that seems to be overlooked due to the distance is the Elvhenan flag: an asymmetrical brown flag/banner [maybe it’s just age that turned into this colour?] which displays dots and flowers.

Of course, there are a lot more of statues, fences, objects and decoration elements that should be considered, but I think I made a decent exhaustive tracking of them along the tags. There is also a good exploration of the paintings we find in most of the temples in Nation Art: Elvhen. 

When it comes to statues or symbols, these targets can be checked:

Dragon Mythal statue

Humanoid Mythal statue

Howling Fen'Harel statue

Sitting Fen'Harel statue

Elven Owl statue

Elven hart statue

Elven Archers

Elven Tree Statue

Humanoid Dirthamen/Falon'Din

inuksuit

Red inuksuk

Golden Ring

Elvhen funerary lid

Evanuris Mosaics

Elven Orb

Vhenadahl

and potentially pointy tower

There are additional tags to explore such as Elven and Elvhenan design, although they are a bit more generic.