#wondrous tails prize

[wondroustailsofffxiv]

There is a re-occurring quest of sorts in Final Fantasy XIV called ‘Wondrous Tails’, and it is given to you in Idyllshire by a young Miqo’te named Khloe Aliapoh. Specifically, she gives you an empty journal and asks you to write down the stories of your past and future adventures so that she can share them with everyone she meets!

By re-completing past content, you can earn stickers in order to make lines across a card in a style similar to bingo, with each finished line netting all sorts of prizes once the journal is turned in. In much the same way, ‘Wondrous Tails of FFXIV’ is a multi-month event that utilizes a prompt-filled bingo card format in order to encourage participants to tell the stories in an environment with minimal restrictions and maximum possibilities.

This event is open to both visual and written media, and anyone that participates with at least one valid entry is entered for a raffle that takes place after the end of the event. However, participants do not need to worry about raffle entries or its few restrictions if all they'd like to do is take part and have fun!

> The next iteration of Wondrous Tails of FFXIV will start on March 15th and end on June 15th! <

For more information about the event, start/end dates and whatnot, please check out the links found below!

About | FAQ | Rules | Bingo Card Template | AO3 | Carrd | Picker Wheel Links

[evolutionsvoid]

Though not everyone gets the chance to visit rainbow mountains, a lot of folk know of its beauty from the goods that come from these places. Rocks of every hue brought out to be used in sculptures and decoration, and some fancy fellows have even taken colored slabs to use as countertops and tables. They could also be crushed into dust and used as pigments, literally painting with the majesty of these mountains! Such art doesn't just come from the ground, but also from the flora and fauna. Feather, flower and fur share the same rainbow hue, and people can't get enough of their beauty. They become the garb of locals, the souvenirs of tourists and the prized merchandise of traders. It ensures that almost everyone can get at least the smallest glimpse of these fantastic mountains, even if it is just a rainbow paperweight. However, that disconnect can cause some issues... People who only see these colorful goods can get the wrong idea about the rainbow mountains, unknowing of what life is really like up there. These pretty stones and gorgeous feathery costumes can make these mountains seem like magical places of beauty and wonder, blinding people to the fact that it is still a mountain range that poses the same danger as any other. Folks who finally get the chance to visit may lose themselves in this fantasy they have built up in their heads for so long, thinking it is going to be absolute paradise. They may not prepare accordingly, or climb too high upon these peaks that they can't get down safely. Or, even worse, they may find themselves mesmerized by all the pretty rocks and treasures they find upon the slopes. So busy collecting souvenirs and trinkets to notice approaching danger. Newcomers to this land are incredibly susceptible to this, even more so when they find those gem-like "ambers" scattered upon the earth. Such gorgeous colors! Such wondrous hues! Hold them to the sun and they may shine finer than any precious stone! You find a piece of that, and you instantly scramble to find others. What jewelry it could make! What fine presents they would be! Well, we should grab some for mom, and for dad, and for siblings and friends and the list goes on and on! And then the greed may set in, when they notice even bigger pieces! A treasure trove, ripe for the picking! They hurry to collect more, not realizing that these ambers don't come from plants or even the earth. In truth, they aren't ambers at all. If outsiders don't research any deeper into these gem-like pieces outside of "ooooo pretty stone" then they won't realize that they are digging around in someone else's territory. Someone who doesn't like guests, but loves having people for dinner. Of all the tourists and collectors who have vanished upon these mountains, I wonder how many of them got a good glimpse into one of these giant "ambers" and realized their mistake too late. Yeah, those pieces aren't as big as you out of pure coincidence...     When all beasts upon this mountain wear rainbows, then that means death is clad in such colors as well. This place looks like paradise, but there is not true peace upon the slopes. There are predators to be feared, and one of the most infamous and dangerous is the Amber Eater. They are a worm-like species, though their bodies possess many pairs of stubby legs. While these pudgy limbs may seem cute with their sticky pads, they also have sharp claws to further aid in navigating the rocky slopes. Their tail end is broad and flat, with more claws to help anchor them when climbing or hanging. It is prehensile too, able to roll up or alter its shape to better suit the situation. On the other end is something a bit more fierce. Long sensory tendrils help taste and smell the air for traces of prey, and a small pair of eyes provide visuals for the hunt. Below them is a savage looking maw of many sharp and serrated mandibles to slice, crush and grind. This isn't a mouth that bites your hand off cleanly, it pretty much pulverizes it into a bloody shredded mush. Each part of this nasty mouth is powered by its own set of muscles, allowing it to alter its bite to better suit the target. With a set of chompers like that, you would be like "wow, I sure wouldn't want to be bitten by that! What a terrible way to go!" The good news is that these shredding mouthparts aren't their primary tool in taking down prey. The bad news is that the real way they hunt might be worse...

If you look past these jaws, you may see a pair of nozzle-like appendages. Looking like fleshy cannons, they drip with a colorful sticky goo. Compared to the teeth, they seem tame, but just you wait til the hunt is on! When an Amber Eater catches the whiff of food, they slither/crawl their way to the target. They lay low and move slowly, looking to get in range of their prey. When they get close enough, these nozzles open up and release a torrent of vibrant goop. In sticky strands, they sail through the air and splatter upon their prey. At first it looks like the Amber Eater is celebrating a birthday or something, but the victim will find that this colorful slime is actually a very sticky, fast drying glue. The Amber Eater releases this goo in a wide swirling arc, each cannon moving independently to get a good spread on their target. The strands are sprayed and looped around to create a web-like pattern that better ensnares prey.

Upon contact, the glue immediately starts to hold fast, and the strands are aimed to catch limbs in a tangle. Even if the victim has enough appendages free to flee, they best watch where they step, as the ground is also covered in this sticky web. One wrong step, and the glue will grab hold and break your gait. Those tripped up by this trap will be doomed if they hit the ground, as that means more of their body will be in contact with this goop. When prey is slowed or dropped, the Amber Eater will crawl closer and continue its firing. It looks to thoroughly coat its target, at least making sure the head is completely covered. For human or llama-sized victims, it is death by asphyxiation, as the glue seals all airways and you perish in a rainbow bog of goop. For larger targets, like a gardenback, the head may be a bit difficult to fully coat while it is alive and thrashing. Rather than waste more glue to pin the victim down completely, the Amber Eater will instead use enough to slow them down to the point that it can use its jaws to rip out a throat without facing much of a fight. When its prey lies dead in this solidifying goo, the Amber Eater will feast. Its many jaws slice and tear, gobbling down chunks of meat in moments. Eventually, though, its hunger will be satiated, but often there is still more flesh to devour. It cannot eat another bite, but if it abandons this kill, then the scavengers will get the spoils. Thankfully, the Amber Eater believes in leftovers!

This worm is capable of preserving its food, and it does so by utilizing its glue cannons again. It will douse the carcass with more and more goo until it is thoroughly coated. When enough is applied, it uses its limbs and prehensile tail to start sculpting. It rolls the drying glue over and over in its arms until it forms sort of a ball, with the corpse making a meaty center. Given time, the sphere solidifies, transforming into that gorgeous "amber" look, complete with trapped victim! You see, this is what "rainbow mountain amber" actually is, it is the dried rolled glue of an Amber Eater. It uses this stuff to store food for later, which is helpful for saving larger kills it can't eat in one sitting or allowing it to hunt prey even on a full stomach! If there is opportunity to strike even when it doesn't want to it, it can just save it for later. When victims are properly hardened and stored, the amber is affixed to its body, with more glue and rough hide to help it all stick. Larger ambers may be dragged along by its tail or rolled back to its lair with its arms. When hunger strikes and it has nothing fresh to eat, those same jaws chisel and carve away at a selected amber to get at the prize inside. This is where "amber eater" comes from, as often you can spot a lounging one gnawing away on one as if it was candy.

Those with a sharp eye may note that some of the ambers this creature carries around have no victims trapped inside. Even more so, you may notice one eating empty ambers too! What's the deal? Well, it turns out there is more to these hardened glue balls then originally thought! The Amber Eater doesn't just devour the meat within, it also swallows the dried glue chunks as well. What has been found is that the creature is able to quickly digest these pieces and reconstitute them back into sticky glue. You see, the process of replenishing its ammo supply naturally is actually pretty long. To get a full load, it would take days to create enough glue, which may be a problem when you are hungry and have failed a couple hunts already. If they eat these ambers, though, the process goes by much faster, as all the ingredients are there, they just need to be put into the right place! This means that Amber Eaters can consume used strands and pieces after a failed hunt to help mitigate the loss. It also means that Amber Eaters can actually store ammo too! When their cannons are filled up but with no target to shoot, they may make these empty ambers instead and save them for later. Sculpt a little glue ball and save it for a rainy day! That way when they need glue in a pinch, they can chow down on one and get a replenish faster, Coating their bodies in these amber chunks also creates body armor for them, which is good for deflecting attacks or warding off aggressors. Amber Eaters don't have any real predators to fear, but there are other tough foes on the mountains that may wish to pick a fight! These worms get into a lot of scrapes with the Fabulous Lancejaw, with arguments over territory and prey. Each are armed with deadly weaponry, which usually means it is a fifty-fifty chance on who wins the day. If the Lancejaw can fire off its spearing limbs past the Amber Eater's armor, the exploding wound is usually enough to kill them. However, if these kinetic limbs are glued shut, the Lancejaw has no weapon and thus will quickly perish under the onslaught of goop and tooth. Amber Eaters mark their territory with sculpted pillars of this glorious amber, creating colorful obelisks that further decorate the rainbow mountains! Each Amber Eater secretes its own unique goo, with its own color and scent. Other worms that encounter these sculptures will be able to identify the maker in an instant! Their cave lairs too are coated with this amber, making it look like the peaks themselves bleed paint from its wounds! Their stored amber spheres are often glued throughout the interior, making for morbid decoration. Everything the Amber Eater does is beautiful, but also very deadly. One should keep that in mind when hunting for these pretty "jewels."       As I said, the end product of these hunts wind up making these solid rounded chunks of colorful "amber," which people think are absolutely gorgeous. I don't blame them, because they are indeed beautiful! Most folk outside of the rainbow mountains don't realize it is dried worm spit, which I think would change their view of it. It doesn't change mine, though! It makes me love them more! Goes to show that nature's beauty can be found in all places! Aside from that, this amber is collected and polished to be sold under the name of "rainbow mountain amber" or "rainbow gems." Once shaped and shined, they make gorgeous jewelry and ornaments. They are incredibly popular, but they are rarer then you would think. With the idea that this stuff is spit out by a giant worm, you would think it would be easy to get and that is what gets a lot of folk killed. Amber Eaters are territorial, aggressive and very much open to hunting even when they are full. Since they can store food and easily replenish their glue stock, they have no reason to turn down easy prey. Since they also eat this stuff too, the left behind pieces of a hunt can quickly vanish. This amber is sold in small little gems because these morsels are often missed by roaming Amber Eaters. The larger the amber, the more costly and rare, as these would certainly be eaten by any one of these worms. Since they still fetch a fair price, people are eager to ascend the rainbow mountains to gather this treasure. Unfortunately, not all make it back...

The first thing to remember is that if you find amber on the ground, then that means an Amber Eater was in this area. Sure they probably moved on or are hunting elsewhere, but do remember that tidbit. A lot of folk seem to get this idea that since they can't see one, then the worm will never return. In most cases, yeah, you won't run into one. But on the rare chance you are wrong, then you are really paying for that bad bet. The other thing to note is that you will most likely only find pieces ranging in size from a pea to about your thumb. Some scavengers have figured out a way to eat larger chunks that contain meat, while local birds have grown found of collecting these pieces to decorate nests. Combined with weather and wear, and most pieces will be quite small. Be content with what you find, and don't stay on the mountain longer then necessary chasing this idea that you are steps away from a treasure trove. People get this idea that there are boulders of this stuff that everyone else just conveniently ignored. Yeah, those got left behind for a reason, pal. High chance a fellow amber hunter is stuck in that! With people getting obsessed with finding the mother load, their hunger may drive them to try their luck on bigger targets. Those amber spires sure are pretty! Bet those would fetch some fantastic coin! True, but I got a better idea: DON'T TOUCH THOSE!

 Those are literally territory markers that these aggressive worms use to ward off competitors! You start chiseling away at one and the owner is going to have a word with you! Also, remember when I said that each Amber Eater's glue has a unique color and scent? Let me emphasize the "scent" part! It may not smell like much to you, but other Amber Eaters can sense it clear as day. The second you get a giant chunk of stinky territory marker in your hand and start blundering into other worms' property, you are going to tick off a lot of folk. To their senses, another Amber Eater is trying to invade their turf, and they don't like that one bit. That is another reason why people rarely bring back giant chunks of amber, as the smell draws these beasts like flies to dung. I am not even going to warn you about trying to plunder their lair, because if you think for a even second that that is a good idea then there is no saving with you... With how dangerous it is to get this precious material, people have wondered if there is a better way. If Amber Eaters secrete this stuff, why not just raise them in captivity? You know dragon scales are also pretty valuable, ever wonder why we don't raise those? Obviously, Amber Eaters are aggressive and voracious, there is no reasonable way to contain one for harvesting amber. Their hunger requires a lot of food and a full belly won't stop them from trying to glue their owner's either. They are also way smarter and faster than you think, making them good at escaping confinement and busting through cages. And like all living things in the rainbow mountains, the area and their diet is what gives them their colors. Keep one in captivity and those ambers are going to look pretty dull and lifeless. All these reasons are why dryads don't use this worm goop for making our amber coins, which many people think would be a swell idea. Yes, it is pretty, but there is no easy way to harvest it consistently. Trees make the sap we can use for minting and they don't tend to eat people. This is also why any recovered piece of amber is considered precious. They aren't easy to get and we also can't change them too much. There was once an idea that you could melt down little blobs of amber to make one giant rainbow piece, but we never figured out how to make that process work. Attempts to replicate the stomach of an Amber Eater just results in ugly brown chunks of sticky amber. So what you find is what you get, no matter what may be inside it. So if you ever see a large specimen of this amber on sale or on a person, see if you can get a good look inside. There is a chance there might be something or a piece of someone inside it....     Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian

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“Amber Eater”

Ha ha! My masterpiece! Ignore the fact I say that about every other thing I draw, but I do love how these guys turned out. "Amber" was on the "Spit List" and the Velvet Worms felt like a perfect match!

[pearlescent-soda]

✨️//A Third Helping of My Headcanons on the Dragon Daddies (Magic Crafters Edition):

Eldrid:

A well intentioned elder who won't let boundaries such as, morals, laws, or any other silly social constructs stop him from pursuing his goals. This man has broken many laws in his potion making career, if that seems a bit too implausible than ask his cellmate Boldar. Although, unlike his lifelong friend, he knows how to take precautions before working with magic.

The texture of his potions can best be described as 'gello-like' as a lot of his products are salves meant for external use only. The number of customers sending complaints for stomach pains after ingestion has been steadily decreasing as the years go by. 'One gent came in with a purple tongue, and, ancestors forgive me, I laughed in his face'. The instructions are on the back, but, hey, the customers always right, except when they're wrong, then they come back and complain.

Spyro can hardly keep his eyes open during Eldrid's 'enthralling' lectures. He holds out for his favorite part of the visit, the 'taste test', Eldrid dips his spoon in the cauldron and hands it to Spyro. If he guesses the right flavor, he gets to take a prize from his 'prize box', which is basically a box of junk he hasn't thrown out yet, but if the boy wants necklace carved from a unicorn horn, he can take it.

He's got severe back pain, if his horrible posture didn't give it away, and it's been getting worse year after year. He'll wear a back brace every now and then, when he feels like it, but most the time he'll take medicine for the pain and move on with his day. He'll make one of the boys put some homemade numbing ointment on his back and that stuff smells like stale mint and rotten eggs.

Him and Boldar go way back, he's got both of their mugshots hanging in his shop from the 'good the good ol' days'. That can't be good for business, but look at how happy they look, aw. He made copies for Boldar to carry with him during his travels and he wrote on them, 'To my dearest, and most wondrous, friend, Boulder'. That's no error, that's legitimately how he believes his lifelong friend's name is spelled.

Only twenty-five percent of his scribbles are illegible, the rest are complex recipes for whatever experiment he's working on. His terrible penmanship is a result of Eldrid trying to write with his tail, behind his back where he can't see, instead of just using his hands. 'It makes perfect sense to me. Hmm, maybe you need bifocals, young one'.

The horns are his head are actually sprinklers connected to his goggles. There's a fire in his laboratory daily, so to combat such a regular occurrence Lucas gifted the geezer a pair of safety goggles. 'Ah, Lu-Lu was always the generous type'. Yes, bottles still explode, except, this time, the kitchen is still functional afterward. Soggy, but functional.

Kelvin:

A know-it-all drama queen who thinks he's got the answers to all of life's mysteries. While his temperament is nowhere near as bad as Cosmos', he can be just as haughty and standoffish. Surprisingly, he's much easier to befriend than his leader. His insults are unintentional, he hates to sugarcoat his words, so when he gives advice, wanted or otherwise, it's blunt and to the point. Never EVER argue with him on anything, it doesn't matter who's right, he'll drag it out till he feels like the conversation is over.

He's NOT the 'Master of Wind', that is a title he despises with a passion. 'I'm the 'Master of Air', Lord Kelvin. The 'Master of Wind' was my father, and he was a dirty, treacherous, THIEF!!!' Never mention this to him, but he possesses the exact same abilities as his father such as creating sizeable storms, whirlwinds, and increasing windspeeds, something he very much likes to do to dispose of Thieves.

Spyro nearly died on his way to the library, and it wasn't due to the windspeeds, but a famished Beast who blocked his path. That was an interesting day to say the least, he met a Peace Keeper he'd never seen before, and Kelvin was actually nice to him for once. Spyro and Sparx took note of the usual Magic Crafter dislike for the Peace Keepers, but the way that Kelvin spoke to the dragon was as if his very presence was a bad omen.

His 'Vortex of Doom' surrounding the Alpine Ridge library was implemented after an incident regarding a Druid break-in. That's why Magic Crafters use alternate routes and 'short cuts' to reach the building, because the windspeeds near the eye are well over one hundred miles per hour, and no, he can't control it anymore. 'It's out of my hands now. My advice to you is never cast an angry spell, they're impossible to reason with'.

The key hanging off his neck is for 'travel'. To where? 'Wherever I please, so stop pestering me'. A key for every door? Sounds kind of intrusive, but he's not the type to pry into other people's lives. It's just one of the many, many, many ways that Magic Crafters are able to travel around the world. Don't be surprised if there's a keyhole in the wall, all that means is that Kelvin has arrived... So, bring earplugs.

The orb often pondered about by passersby is the remedy to a nasty cursed inflicted by a Cat Witch rumored to have been a 'close friend' of his prior to their falling out. 'Samantha was a heartless wench, if you ever plan on settling dow- I mean acquiring a roommate, make sure they're truly loyal to you.' What happens when the orb is removed, er... It's too embarrassing to share. Just know that it includes endless singing and lots of feathers.

He's read every book in Magic Crafters and Artisans, right now he's focusing his energy on getting Dream Weaver literature, which was easy... At first. Dream Weavers don't exactly share information through the written word, and any literary works found don't go over two thousand words. 'Ugh, it's all bedtime stories, lullabies, and dream journals. It's so juvenile, I swear, I'm never getting those precious hours back!!-' He continues on like that for a while before finally giving in to attend to his duties or whenever his listener decides they've had enough and bails.

Zander:

Within the Alpine Ridge quartet, he could be identified as a stand in for the 'straight man'. For starters, he's the most 'normal' one there, he's polite and open, but he's not above cutting corners to get the desired results. He's definitely business oriented, anytime he senses a potential sale, he starts pushing his wares like his life depends in it.

Enchanted items, enchanted items galore! He's the 'Master of Transmogrification and Magic Infusion' for good reason. Peace Keepers wanting enhanced weapons, Beast Makers wanting a perfectly balanced pot, or even Artisans needing a permanently sharpened pencil are all welcome in his shop.

He shows the boys secret tunnels and passages used by the Magic Crafters. There was one tunnel that wasn't in the Dragon Realms, it was chilly there, the leaves were a stunning red orange, but the portals lead to unfamiliar realms. Zander was oddly nervous at his little 'slip up' and quickly tried to usher them back home. Anytime Spyro tried to inquire about what they'd just seen; Zander would change the subject and try to distract him with something else. 'I don't want dumb book, uncle!! I want to know what Zephyr'

He had normal wings in his youth, when asked why or how they became crystalline, he'll reply with 'I wouldn't try anything on a customer if I didn't try it on myself'. It's true, he is more than capable of altering physical appearances, but he likes to avoid talking about his own appearance, especially if too many people are present.

The late Peace Keeper General would frequent his store for upgrades to his axe, increased durability, a lightweight grip, and his personal favorite, a blade sharp enough to cut through stone. 'He was gallant knight and a lovely friend. His passing was a great loss for us all'.

He was going to be a travelling merchant, but he wasn't able to tame a Beast and get it to pull his wagon. 'The domestic life suits me better anyway. But, if you want to look at some of my wares, I'd be more than happy to share'. He figured that the business would be good for Alpine Ridge as a whole if he stayed, so now all the wagon does is collect dust in the backroom.

'Dark Gems?... Aw, yes... Did I ever tell you about the time I was evil for a day?' He got an order from a robed figure long ago to make a staff adorned with Dark Gems, but when the staff was completed, the figure turned his own creation against him and embedded a shard into his chest. Zander became a malevolent creature with grotesque features, but as previously stated, the 'day' he's referring to was actually a month because the Magic Crafters had to wait for Cosmos to arrive back from Peace Keepers. Upon his arrival, he was greeted with frantic pleas for him to go to Alpine Ridge and save Zander from himself. Their leader was able to remove a majority of the shards, but some fused with Zander, and that's how he obtained his crystalline appearance.

Zane:

The worrywart bookworm, he's very shy around those he doesn't know, and he won't talk to people he's unfamiliar with. He prefers to watch someone from afar for weeks prior to actually speaking with them, and, no, it's not a healthy thing to do, but he can't help it. Speaking with strangers takes a lot of energy and leaves him utterly defeated if he feels he's done it wrong the 'wrong' way. It doesn't help that his speaking voice is low with a noticeable stutter, so it's no surprise that he prefers not to speak at all. 

His ability, aptly named 'mimic', allows him to learn spells and magics through 'absorption' which means all he requires is one demonstration and he quietly conjures up a page for it. He's learned so many spells that he needs a one hundred- and fifteen-pound book to hold them all. He's become a powerful mage thanks to this ability with the only limitations being that the book must be close to him, and he has to open it to cast his spells.

He admires Spyro's unbreakable spirit and doesn't mind at all when he tags along with him during errands. But he has a terrible habit of spoiling Spyro and Sparx with whatever they want. 'I-I can't deny them anything, look at t-them, they're adorable, Kelvin. Aw, I'm going to give them one more piece of candy, I'll be right b-back.' He lets them read the table of contents of his spell book; he may let them cast a few before bed if no one's around.

The spell book was originally his journal, his name is engraved on the cover in swirling gold. There's one actual entry followed by a million different spells, hexes and incantations; jarring would be putting it lightly.  'You want t-to read it? It's very boring, I wrote about the weather, m-mind you this was before my ability manifested'. Wow, it's his first entry... And it's about a... Heavy snowstorm.  He was right, that was kind of boring.

The first time he had to interact with anyone outside his realm, he froze up, which still haunts him to this day. He was a teenager then, so it's not hard to see why he cringes at the memory, oh, and this interaction just had to occur with Jarvis and Lucas, the liveliest dragons in the known realms. Lucas is polite enough to not bring it up, but it's the first topic Jarvis brings up when he sees Zane.

Indecisive when making decisions for himself, but if it's to aid others, he'll jump right in to help. 'Jumping right in', means maybe casting a spell from afar or doing most, if not all, the work in their place. Yes, he's an ABSOLUTE pushover and a people pleaser, he doesn't want to upset anyone, but he isn't completely spineless either. He won't give up the hood and he won't, will not, under any circumstances, lend the book to anyone without his guidance.

He can't fly due to an injury sustained during his adolescent, one reason he wears the hood is to cover a star-shaped scar on his head. He got caught spying on a coven of Armored Druids while casting 'mimic', and he's been unable to raise or lower his wings properly ever since. Kelvin was kind enough to share 'levitation' with him, and now it's hard to keep his feet planted on the ground for more than a millisecond.

[finalfantasyxivwritings]

Coats and Knights

Relationship: WoL(Etien Mellifer)/Aymeric

Rating: PG

Summary: Aymeric is a dutiful husband and orders coats for his wife--but he forgets a little detail.

Note: This is a late prize for @efrmellifer for being one of the winners of the Wondrous Tails event! I loved reading about her and Aymeric together, and I equally loved writing them. Their relationship is adorable and so wholesome UvU

It was a cold day in Ishgard, as many of them often were. With the bitter chill able to slip into one’s very bones if they were not properly clothed, Aymeric often wondered if it bothered Etien more than she cared to tell him. Though he and his fellow countrymen had barely several years to grow accustomed to the plummeting temperatures, she did not. Her home of the Black Shroud was certainly not as hot as the desert of Thanalan or the sea-swept La Noscea, but he knew enough to say it didn’t often experience anything less than late-nights of mild chill.

Similarly, he had heard many times over by way of rumor that those of her blood--Miqo’te--were oftentimes sensitive to the cold. Aymeric of course wasn’t the type of man to take a few errant rumours and assume them to be undoubtable fact, but it did certainly add to the man’s worry for Etien’s health as her husband. 

And, ever the doting of partners, Aymeric had several coats commissioned for her, seeing as she had so few already, and what others she owned didn’t seem at all made for the bitter cold so often experienced through Ishgardian nights. 

They were of hardy make, with thick layers of leather and fur that left an equally pleasing and durable design. 

But there was one detail missed in the transaction of said coats--easily overlooked, as their marriage had been something of a hushed event, if only to make sure she was not accosted nor Aymeric constantly questioned each and every time they stepped foot in Ishgard together. Of course, any person with a decent sense of curiosity and patience would be able to piece together all the bits of information left between them to realize that both the Warrior of Light and Lord Commander were wed to one another. 

But Aymeric respected the fact that it was something of an off-hand fact, not a piece of knowledge regularly known to even the noble houses of Ishgard. So of course, when he commissioned for coats, he had left out the fact that they were for his wife and not for himself—

And so when she went to try them on, Etien was completely engulfed in the material.

“I think there may be a detail or two that is off with them,” the young woman said, raising her hands so that the cuff of the coat hung over the empty space, too long for her arms. “I understand that you want me to stay warm, Aymeric, but this is perhaps…” she laughed and glanced down at how the coat practically smothered over her shoulders, only barely lifted from the ground about midway down her lower legs.

“Ah,” Aymeric wasn’t sure whether he wanted to feel more amused, endeared, or embarrassed at the situation. “I neglected to inform the craftsperson about whom the commission was for.”

Etien’s eyes remained on the coat for a few moments, and she gestured lightly with her arms, as if testing how hard it was to move them while smothered with the heavy coat.

“Well, it’s warm regardless,” she turned around, watching herself in the mirror on the bedroom wall. “Perhaps they can be altered in some way? I’d hate for them to be wasted…”

Aymeric hummed at the suggestion.

“I can certainly inquire about that.”

Etien turned again, and again--both in body as much as her thoughts, the woman’s face set into a look of concentration.

Then, she looked towards Aymeric with a smile; the poor man felt his heartbeat skip from the sight alone.

“Can we donate them to the Brume? I know of several at least whose coats are worn paper-thin, and they would make far greater use of these than I ever will.”

The idea caught Aymeric off-guard for a moment, but quickly he felt like an even greater fool for not seeing such an easy solution to a problem that was entirely self-made.

“Of course!” he felt heat on his cheeks from both embarrassment and now-definite endearment. “Though, while silly of me to ask this, I request to keep just one of them.”

“And why is that?” Etien asked, tilting her head into the thick fur trim around the collar; it framed her face perfectly. 

“Well,” the commander suddenly felt his voice grow quiet, and no amount of bravado could push it louder. “While a bit large, I admit that it looks….cute. On you.”

Etien was silent for a moment, but shuffled herself closer towards him. He could barely see her tail twitch beneath the coat (another detail that made them ill-fitting for her), and she moved until she could gently press her forehead to the front of his body. 

“I don’t think it’s silly,” she murmurs against him. “And it makes me happy when you say such things about me.”

The two of them stood together for a few moments, with Aymeric eventually wrapping his arms around her and enjoying the moment of peace and domesticity they shared. When they were both such important people to so many others, there were often stretches of time when such moments seemed impossible to share.

And at least she was warm.

[cosmo-rider]

OC-tober 2021

#1 - Journey

I saw a cool challenge for OC-tober by @oc-growth-and-development (link to the prompts at the bottom because I’m still new to tumblr and can’t figure out how to add it subtly :’) ) and I wanted to try and use it to get me writing more often! Since most of my focus is on Drawtober this month, this is going to be a very casual series. I’ll most likely be working on these past October since I also wanted to make illustrations for these, so this is mainly just to get me comfortable sharing my writing again. So in short, there will be a delay in sharing these shorts due to my stubborn insistence on making an illustration for each.

✨🌟✨

“And the fair queen bestowed upon the company many gifts worth ten-times more than the dragon head they returned to her,” Opal concluded at last in her low, soothing voice. “Yet despite her many gifts and her request for them to stay in her kingdom, the company decided to move on to the next quest. The kingdom sent them off in glory, and gave them a very fond farewell.”

The half-orc smiled down at the young tiefling boy curled up by her side, hugging his dragonish tail tightly as he listened to his sister’s tale. Moxie’s overgrown mane of black hair partially covered his face, but his one unmasked eye was still visible and watching her with wonder.

“C-could you do another one?” Moxie stammered at last, drawing closer to his older sister with a pleading look. “Just one more? I’m not tired.”

Opalescent chuckled as she drew her younger brother’s blanket up and over him. “Maybe you’re not, but I certainly am. We have lessons tomorrow, so it’s best if we leave it at that for tonight.”

Moxie’s long impish ears drooped slightly as Opal extinguished the lantern set next to the futon they shared. He had been given a small futon of his own since his first arrival into the “sisterhood”, but it never went well once night came. Every dark corner of the shared chamber seemed to hold either an unknown horror or a glaring set of eyes from one of the older sisters. They didn’t hide their distaste of him very well. He found he slept much better in Opal’s reassuring presence within this unfamiliar place. At least she seemed to be the only person in this strange world to have any patience with him.

“Opal,” Moxie whispered once the young half-orc laid back down beside him after adjusting their many pillows. “Do you think dragons are real?”

“I imagine so,” she answered patiently. “They must live above ground. Never seen one myself, but maybe the others have. Up Grounders slay them every day from what I hear.”

“Really? Do they really kill them for gold?”

“Dragon hoards are full of treasures. Parties will go out and slay them, and not only do they get the hoard, but the prize of killing one as well. But the prize is so high because few actually come back alive, so remember that before going and trying to slay one.”

The idea of going out and slaying a dragon was such a wondrous thought. He couldn’t imagine anyone— not even his older sisters —daring to go head to head with a mighty, fire-breathing beast. Yet the imagery of the glory and wealth made his heart beat at a quicker pace.

“What if we went together?” Moxie asked in a hush, his eyes wide with excitement. “May… maybe when we’re grown-ups we can go and defeat one together! You’re so strong already, surely we could do it together. We could get all that treasure for ourselves.”

“We’d have to find a dragon first,” she reasoned, her small smile faltering a tad. “It’d be quite the journey. We’d need a little more help, too— just in case. Maybe the others wouldn’t mind tagging along.”

Moxie shrank a little at the suggestion, but Opal wrapped her arms around her little brother and pulled him inti her embrace.

“I don’t know if we’re ever going to go and make the trip,” she admitted quietly in his ear. “But if the time is right and we’re both ready, I’ll be willing to fight alongside you. You’ll split the riches, right?”

Moxie nodded hurriedly, to which she chuckled, “That’s all I need to know. Now try and get some sleep, little man. We have a long day tomorrow.”

Opal placed a small kiss on the tiefling’s forehead, signifying for him to settle down. Yet after only a few minutes of silence, there was a chorus of angry voices outside their door. He could recognize those dreadful voices anywhere.

“You had one job!” One of the sisters— possibly Ursula judging by the depth of her voice— bellowed at the rest. “One fucking job— and you blew it! We have nothing to show for our struggle! The High Priestess will have our heads!”

“Maybe if you actually made an attempt to listen to me, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” came Portia’s shrill exclamation. “It’s never you who’s the problem, it’s always someone else! Well I’m sick of your whining and the blame games, let me tell YOU—“

Moxie stiffened as the raised voices turned into all out screaming. At least they weren’t in the room itself, but they could’ve at least taken their usual squabbles elsewhere. Of course, the presence of the young children never deterred them before.

He lifted his hands to cover his ears and curled closer to Opal. Upon glancing at her face, he realized the half-orc’s eyes were still open, and her expression had sunken from calm and motherly, to tired and defeated. Wordlessly, she raised the blanket over both of their heads. They were thrown into more darkness, but the voices outside became mercifully muffled.

“Don’t worry about them,” she assured him in a whisper. “We’re not involved. It’s not our fault. You just need to go to sleep. Try… try to think about the adventure we’ll have someday, hunting for dragons.

Moxie struggled to move his attention away from the shouting outside their door. His heart was pounding against his chest, and he could feel stressful tears pricking at his eyes. He prayed that Plumeria or some instructor would come and tell them to shut up.

Moxie clung to the visual Opal had given him best he could— he and Opal, running far away from their overbearing superiors, terrifying priestesses, and the reach of Lowl. Instead there would be a whole vast world, unexplored, and much treasure to conquer.

It was this out of reach fantasy that eventually lulled him to sleep.

https://oc-growth-and-development.tumblr.com/post/662411584438730752/tis-the-season-for-october-2021-as-always-these

[redmoonwanderer]

Lessons

Prompt: Grand companies Wondrous Tails Masterpost

Summary: Taking the eager but inexperienced recruits out for a mission is never easy, and usually, it’s the Warrior of Light who pays the prize. Characters: WoL OC, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Thancred Waters

________

Alphinaud doesn’t lift his eyes from the book he’s reading when he hears the door to Rising Stones open. The rhythm of the steps is familiar enough, even if the clanking of the armor is a rarer thing to hear.

It’s when he picks up on the dragging of metal (that he knows to be a larger-than-should-be-legal sword) against the stone floor that he does look up, because that’s almost unheard of as the warrior has respect for his weapons.

He nearly slams the book on the table in his rush to get up when he sees Qhol’a. “By the Twelve, are you alright?!”

The large sword Qhol’a placed against the wall, perhaps too tired to carry it any further, falls down, almost as if it’s just as tired as its owner. The sound gets the attention of a few others present, and their faces reflect Alphinaud’s words, somewhat worried by whatever new terror might have found their star this time.

To say Qhol’a looks tired and beaten is an underestimation. He looks exhausted. He looks like someone dragged him through the streets by his feet before tossing him into a room full of hungry beasts. Yet still, he waves his hand to say he’s alright (to the relief of all, as it is a sign of “no apocalyptic threats”, and people return to their conversations), but the way he sits heavily by the table with Alphinaud, like he’s literally carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders once more, says otherwise.

“What happened?” Alphinaud asks, unsure as to what could possibly get the experienced Warrior of Light, master of many a trade, into such a condition.

Qhol’a takes out a soul crystal, and with a whoosh, the familiar, more comfortable-looking dark leathers of a mage replace the black-and-red heavy armor. “I visited Maelstrom, took three recruits for a mission to see how they’d fare,” he says, voice low and gravely like he’d just woken up.

“Oh,” Alphinaud says quietly. “The healer didn’t heal, I take it?”

Qhol’a banging his head against his arms on the table is all the answer he needs.

Feeling some of his worry fade away knowing that their friend hadn’t encoutered something far worse, Alphinaud offers a small, empathetic smile. “Would you perhaps like something to eat? After I see to your wounds, of course.”

The warrior waves his hand lazily in reply that he reads as a yes, a gesture that somehow reminds him of his sister. He promises to be back in a moment, and heads to F’lhaminn to ask for something to eat and drink for their friend. When he hears the main door open again, he glances over his shoulder to see Thancred walk in, considerably less beaten than Qhol’a.

When the Hyur walks past the table, he doesn’t take much notice at first, but then stops to take a second look at the Miqo’te. “What herd of angry beasts did you anger?” he asks, brows rised.

Alphinaud takes the tray F’lhaminn offers – mostly leftovers from the meal earlier – and walks back to the table. “Some green adventurers merely thought that our friend wasn’t in need of healing,” he replies for Qhol’a, who doesn’t seen to be in mood for words at the present.

“The Company recruits? That doesn’t spell anything good, even for someone on my level, if the rumors are to be believed,” Thancred says, taking a seat by the same table.

“Perhaps we should offer some lessons,” Alphinaud says as he begins to channel his healing into Qhol’a, who seems to relax some as the pain washes away and any of the lingering injuries fade.

“I thought that was a job for our friend, here,” Thrancred replies, picking an apple from the plate before anyone can stop him. But since Qhol’a doesn’t even attempt to do so, it seems he doesn’t mind much.

“Most joined because they were inspired by his deeds. It would not surprise me if they are too busy trying to impress him to take any lessons to heart.” Alphinaud lowers his arms and gives Qhol’a a once-over. He seems better, now, if only in need of a nap. The Miqo’te nods in thanks before he straightens on his seat and begins to enjoy the food, apparently content on not adding his opinion in the mix (though this was hardly the first time something similar had happened, so they had an idea).

“Well,” Thancred leans forward on the table, “if he asks me nicely, I might even consider it.”

Qhol’a glances at him, but his expression betrays nothing. Alphinaud has a feeling he will not be begging.

“At any rate, I would suggest you take proper time to rest and recover before you venture out with the recruits again,” the Elezen says. He knows Qhol’a won’t need much time at all, but this is his Medically Given Permission to say no should they come knocking the very next day.

Qhol’a finishes his drink and places the empty mug on the table, pausing. His face is serious as he stares ahead, and somehow, when he slowly nods, Alphinaud has a feeling he’ll be finding a reason to head to the Far East for a while sooner rather than later.

Perhaps for the best.

[gray-morality]

Wondrous Tails of FFXIV

Getting a pet

This sight was getting familiar; a view of the world with eyes on ground level, taking in all the garbage and the mud of a back alley. His cheek was burning, skin probably scraped as it laid on the pebbled road. To be fair, that was far from the only bit of skin that was giving him pain, not to mention the deeper aches brought forth by kicking feet and punching hands. For once, however, he hadn’t deserved this. Wrong place, wrong time. While this time he’d been a victim of fate, the desire to get up and live another day was swiftly leaving him. He’d been stripped naked, without even a pair of undergarment to protect the last shred of his dignity. He couldn’t care less about that, he’d lost his pride a long time ago, and had no gils to his name - not even any object of importance - aside one; his deck of oracle cards. And it was gone. Laying face first on the ground, pale butt towards the cloudy sky, he remained there until sleep draped him in a soft blanket of ephemeral peace. The cold of the stone pathway slowly seeping into him… Curtain falls. 

.

.

.

Except there was one person still in the audience; a rat. And a tenacious one at that. With an annoyed grunt, the old viera had tried to shoo it away, to no avail. Maybe the rat thought he was already dead and saw the figurative ‘free buffet’ sign slapped on his back? Possible, though he always considered those rodents to be more intelligent than that. But what did he know about rats anyway? Except that this one was hella annoying, that is! What was that noise, like the tiniest of wooden crates being dragged…

At this moment, he’d wished to have been given any form other than a tiny rodent. Oh, it had proven quite useful to sneak inside the tavern, listen in, observe… When the band of hoodlums had a drink too many, he took his chance, scampering between the legs of drunk patrons and busy waitresses. But when came the time to go dig into one of those men’s bag, the rat cursed his disadvantageous form. The wooden box had been located but.. How to get it out? Oh… oh! Why yes… he /was/ a rodent after all and thus made short work of that well-used bag, munching a hole big enough to pull the wooden box out. Hnnnggghhh! Carefully and diligently, the rat dragged the box across the floor, hiding under tables and chairs, using the shadows to his advantage, until he reached the front door. And then he waited. Thankfully he was good at the waiting game and, when an opportunity arose, managed to drag his prize with due haste through the door left ajar. Freeee! Though now he had to drag this damn box all the way to the back alley. With a tiny rat sigh, he resumed his task at hand.

Curiosity got the best of him and Fakhri opened his eyes, only to see a pale rat dragging a wooden box his way. He had a moment of amusement; maybe rats were stupider than he imagined. What was the point of dragging this box arou- “Holy fuck…” Barely a croak spilled out of the man’s lips as he gathered his strength to push himself to a sitting position. Disbelieving the sight before his own eyes, he merely stared at the rat as it got closer and closer, and then stopped at arm’s reach. His pale gaze traveled from the rat to the box and gently, almost reverential, Fakhri extended a hand to pick up the wooden box as fingers caressed the runes inscribed on its lid. With a practiced push of his thumb, he moved the lid aside, revealing his cards, the rose gold sheen of the ink visible even in the dimness of the alley. With trembling hands, he swiftly closed the box, bringing it to rest against his chest, as his whole body shook with each sobs that he could no longer contain. Beside him, the rat moved closer, until its tiny nose bumped on one of the viera’s legs. The next thing it knew, it was being lifted and smacked with a kiss on its head. “I’m namin’ ya Arak. From now on, and if ya okay with it, we’ll travel together. Whaddaya say, buddy? I’ll make damn sure ya’ll never want for anythin’ if ya stay by my side.” Fakhri looked at the rat, hopeful. As if it could give him a sign… And maybe it did, for Arak stretched, his front paws set on Fakhri’s face so he could lick the tip of the viera’s nose.  {You’re my Person now. A tall order, if I can say so myself, but I accepted the challenge. So let’s go visit the world, you and I, and I promise I’ll stay by your side.} Those words, Fakhri couldn’t hear, but maybe a part of him knew, regardless.

[themurphyzone]

Pinky the Snowmouse Ch 1

Summary: On a lonely Christmas Eve, a lab mouse finds himself unable to concentrate on world domination. When an ACME scientist claims to own a magic silk hat, Brain initially dismisses it as superstitious nonsense, but finds that this boast could hold more truth than he could ever imagine.   

AN: So I posted this idea back in May (I know, nowhere near Christmas season) but it made for such a viable fic that I had to do it. Besides, I wanted to write a great Christmas fic since I focused more on Halloween last year. 

This fanfiction is also a tribute to all the Christmas specials we love so much every year, from the Christmas Carols to the holiday specials in our favorite cartoons to the Grinches and Rankin-Bass features.

Ch 1: That Old Silk Hat

AO3 Link

It was Christmas Eve, the day bolded and highlighted on the calendar, topped with a picture of Snoopy and his doghouse decked out in festive accessories.

Impossible to miss the overly cheerful music, the jingling bells, and the calls to be charitable to the poorer, less fortunate beings of the world.

Except humans never practiced what they preached.

No matter how much they claimed to care, Brain knew they never would. All of those charitable feelings would vanish as soon as Christmas was over, and they’d go right back to wallowing in their ignorance.

If they truly wanted to be charitable, they’d recognize Brain as the indisputable ruler over the world. But since humans always looked down on non-humans, it was an uphill battle with no end in sight.

But that was just fine with Brain. He wanted to be recognized for his merits and intelligence. He wanted to accomplish something other than achieving the lowest times on maze runs.

In time, his efforts would be rewarded. The bitter defeats would gradually transform into sweet victories.

But for now, he was unable to make headway into world domination since all the ACME employees had gathered by the main entrance, waiting for 3 pm to roll around like a class of bored schoolchildren who desperately wanted to go home.

If the higher ups were expecting all these mediocre scientists to show up for work and be productive on a snowy Christmas Eve, they were sorely mistaken. They were only here to collect their paychecks and didn’t care about scientific progress at all.

One lab tech popped a CD full of classic Christmas songs into an old stereo, and a chorus of Feliz Navidad began. Several scientists spun in their chairs, absentmindedly sucking on candy canes.

Brain was just as impatient as they were, but at least he’d be productive with his time once they all left.

“So ya got any plans, Bill?” a scientist asked.

“Go home,” Bill replied with a shake of his balding head. “Sleep because there’s no way I’m getting any shuteye with the twins bouncing off the walls for their presents tonight.”

“Kids are gonna be like that,” a lab tech spoke up. “I had to stop mine from taste-testing the cookies she wanted to leave out for Santa.”

Laughter rang out from the group, everyone taking turns to relate Christmas mishaps with their families. Soon almost every human joined in on the camereradie, except the most eccentric and inept scientist of them all.

Dr. Henry Hinkle was a man who claimed to bridge the fields of science and magic. However, he was woefully mediocre in both departments, and Brain had long ascertained the man had faked his credentials. Even Hinkle’s fashion sense was peculiar, as his gray lab coat was cut into the style of a magician’s fanciful tailcoat. With his brown handlebar mustache, he seemed more like a harried time traveler from the 19th century than a modern citizen.  

His most prized possession was a tall silk hat with a pink flower attached to the band. Hinkle often claimed it was a magic hat, one that performed wondrous and mystifying deeds far beyond human comprehension. Hinkle was attached to that hat, and nobody had ever seen him in public without it.

Hinkle stood apart from everyone else, an outsider from the science clique. He frantically paced back and forth, desperately trying to get the so-called magic hat to perform properly.

"Say, Hinkle? Didn't you have a gig at the elementary school last week? How'd that go?" Bill called, and all eyes turned to Hinkle, whose eyes nervously flicked back and forth at the sudden attention.

"Swell, very swell," Hinkle mumbled as he nervously fiddled with his hat. "Those little ankle-bi...I mean those delightful, darling angels were floored by my magic."

A woman scoffed and rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Yeah, right. My son was part of that class, and he thought it was the worst Christmas party he'd ever had. How embarrassing that you can't shuffle a deck of cards."

“Madam, I will have you know I can shuffle a deck with my eyes closed and one hand behind my back!” Hinkle retorted. He flicked his left sleeve, and an entire card deck slipped out and spilled onto the ground. As Hinkle bent down in a hasty attempt to get the cards back in order, a small wand, several rubber balls, and colorful scarves tumbled out his other sleeve.

Nobody bothered to help Hinkle out with his misfortune. His coworkers elbowed each other, pointed fingers, and snickered among themselves instead.

The situation was far too pathetic to be humorous.

Brain wasn’t surprised by humans anymore. Peace and goodwill toward their fellow men didn’t exist, though the holiday season claimed otherwise.

It was now 2:40 pm. Only twenty minutes left in this humiliating performance, and Brain could formulate his next plan for world domination without further interruption.  

Hinkle quickly stuffed the mess into his coat pockets. Then he straightened up, pulling on both ends of his bowtie in a vain effort to appear calm and collected once he was finished.

“If your hat really is magic, show us a few tricks!” Bill jeered, and the other employees joined in with challenges of their own.

“Oh, I will. And all of you will feel silly for doubting me after I’m through! Silly, silly, silly indeed!” Hinkle shouted. He tried to remove the hat from his head with a graceful flourish, but clumsily dropped it instead.

He chuckled nervously, a bead of sweat running down his forehead despite the chill.

“As with any exercise, a good magician always warms up with the basics,” Hinkle declared as he showed his audience a small red ball. “For my first trick, I will put this red rubber ball into my magic hat like so, and presto change-o, I have five red rubber balls to-”

He tipped the magic hat upside down. A single red ball bounced out, rolling along the floor before it hit an unimpressed lab tech’s shoe.

“-go,” Hinkle finished dejectedly. He peered into the hat, futilely shaking it as if the other four balls would pop out. Once he realized that wouldn’t be the case, his shoes scuffed the ground in shame as he picked up the single red ball and dropped it back into his hat.

“Look on the bright side, man! You produced invisible balls without trying!” someone called, garnering laughter from the rest of the audience.

Hinkle’s face turned red.

And while the scorn wasn’t directed at Brain, he thought the heckling was an unnecessary endeavor. There was little point in prolonging the man’s misery, no matter how incompetent or delusional he was at magic tricks.

“N-now, as I said before, that was just a warm up,” Hinkle said, nervously tugging at his collar. Then he pulled a small pink scarf out from his pocket, spilling several cards and dice onto the floor again. “But my second trick is sure to amaze you! Watch as I place this scarf into my hat and let the magic focus, now hocus pocus I say, and out come green, gold, and...gray?”

To nobody’s surprise, there was only a lone pink scarf in Hinkle’s hand. “There were supposed to be endless scarves attached to this…” he muttered. It fluttered out of his hand and back into the hat.

But nobody was paying attention to Hinkle anymore. The clock struck three, and the dull atmosphere changed to a holiday-induced fervor as everyone pushed and shoved their way to the front so they could card out and leave.

Brain crept to the front of his cage, one hand resting on his crooked tail as he prepared to unlock the cage and make headway into his plans as soon as they left. He was brimming with viable ideas, and they needed to be written down before he forgot them.

“EVERYBODY, WAIT!” Hinkle bellowed over the noise, and his colleagues turned to him with annoyance written all over their faces.

Brain gritted his teeth. Just let them go already! Was that really so difficult?

“I have one more trick, yes, just one more teensy trick up my sleeve! A real one, I assure you! You won’t be disappointed!” Hinkle said, rubbing his hands together frantically. He emptied his pockets, tossing props everywhere in a vain attempt to find something useful.

Then Hinkle donned a pair of white magician’s gloves, his eyes falling right on Brain. And Brain realized he was about to be conscripted as an unwilling volunteer.

Since his usual tactic of biting fingers until he was left alone wouldn’t work on gloved hands, Brain beat a hasty retreat to the back of his cage, intending to use the exercise wheel as further cover.

But he only made it halfway to the wheel when the door opened and gloved fingers pinched his tail, dragging him out of the cage and dangling him over the magic hat for everyone to see.

“Watch as I transform this ugly lab mouse into a beautiful dove!” Hinkle yelled, and just as Brain processed the insult, he was unceremoniously dropped into the hat. He fell right on top of the rubber ball, knocking the wind out of him. “Abracadabra alakazam!”

Brain pressed himself against the inside folds of the hat as he tried to catch his breath, but he was only given a moment of reprieve before he was snatched up and thrown into the air, as if Hinkle expected him to grow wings because of a nonsensical phrase.

He slammed against the window and fell to the table below, shaking his head to clear away the stars circling in his vision. Every part of his body ached, agony starting from the tip of his tail and snaking up his spine. Slowly, he sat up and checked himself over in the window.

There was a distinct lack of avian features in his reflection, as he expected. He had a new break in his tail from the rough treatment, but there weren’t any other new markings.  

Everyone stared at Brain in silence, and the only sounds were barely suppressed squeaks of disbelief from Hinkle and a chorus of Deck the Halls.

Then there was a booming laugh.

“Prettiest dove I’ve ever seen!” Bill said, to the mirth of his coworkers.  

Brain’s ears flattened, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear forever.

His fists clenched at the sound of their mockery. He never chose to be involved in this ridiculous demonstration. Or deal with their scorn and stupidity every day. Or live at ACME Labs at all, where he had to suffer through experiment after experiment on top of attempting world domination and failing every single night.

“Come back! I have trick cards! Magic 8-balls! I’ll saw something in half and put it back together, I swear!” Hinkle shouted at the scientists’ retreating figures as they all carded out and stepped into the bitter chill of winter. They shuffled through the snow-covered property and into their vehicles, not wishing to be delayed any longer.

The prized silk hat crumpled in Hinkle’s hand.

“Bah! The only thing this junk hat’s good for is the trash can!” Hinkle snarled as he hurled the hat at the wastebasket by the door, but it only hit the nearby wall instead.

Then he stomped out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Brain peered out the window, his breath forming a small patch of fog against the cold glass as he watched Hinkle trudge towards the city. He waited a minute to ensure Hinkle wasn't coming back, then rushed over to a drawer where he'd hidden a roll of blueprints and writing utensils.

He was finally, blissfully alone.

Strands of colorful Christmas lights twinkled along the walls, casting a festive hue onto the unfurled blueprints.

Solve for x. Cube the most wonderful time of the year. Multiply by pi.

Peppermints, candy canes, and chocolates were mixed together in a snowflake-patterned bowl. Brain snacked on one of the chocolates as he scribbled a preliminary design for a machine. The candy was bittersweet on his tongue.

Sodium and chloride to form an ionic bond. Three irons needed to balance the equation. Symbol H stood for the hap-happiest season of all.

Only the scratching of his pencil, the hum of a heater which barely worked, and an old, droning carol. The Christmas bells subdued, the computers shut off.

And hearts will be glowing when loved ones are near. Loved ones are near. Loved ones are near...  

There was a wet spot on the blueprint, directly over where he was trying to write. Frowning, he rubbed out the excess moisture, but only succeeded in smudging his numbers. He started over in an empty space, only for the wetness to appear again. Annoyed, he flipped his pencil around and rubbed the grayed area with his eraser.

The blueprint ripped.

Though the hole was tiny and didn’t affect the rest of his work in the slightest, it seemed that his plan had failed before he’d implemented it.

And it occurred to him that he’d never considered how the machine would function or how it would help him accomplish his takeover.

His face felt strange, so he rubbed his cheeks to get rid of the sensation. His hand came away damp.

Oh.

He was crying.

It was that stupid song’s fault. He dropped his pencil and walked over to the stereo, slamming his hand against the stop button just as the song reached its end.

The sound cut off immediately.

Only the dying thrums of a malfunctioning heater now.

The silence was overwhelming.

Christmas media always said the holiday season was a joyous occasion for family and friends, a time for reflection and rebirth as the year wrapped up and began anew.

But it was just propaganda. Nothing more than lies so people would praise themselves as right and virtuous and loving when they were nothing of the sort.

Brain splashed cold water onto his face, ridding himself of the useless tears. Then he looked out the window. A light flurry had begun, the clouds low and dreary gray. The land was already blanketed in snow from the blizzard on the winter equinox, and temperatures hadn’t warmed up since.

And while there were footprints in the snow from passersby, much of the surrounding property was untouched.

Maybe that’s what he needed.

An opportunity to numb himself, to walk around in the cold and discard these useless, empty aches in his chest.

He tore up his blueprint and threw it away. He was better off starting over after his stint outside.

Then he put on his winter gear, nicked from a doll somebody had brought in as a donation to a toy drive, but now lay forgotten in the lab.

The thick white jacket was comfortable and padded with extra fluff. He threw the hood over his head and tucked in his ears, then pulled on his snow boots and gloves.

As he wound a long piece of string around the window latch, he caught sight of the silk hat that laid beside the wastebasket, considered nothing more than trash since it wouldn’t do what Hinkle wanted. The rubber ball and scarf was still inside, crumpled and forgotten.

Magic wasn’t real. It was simply the art of misdirection and illusion. Or a word the uneducated used to describe occurrences they couldn’t explain with science.

Despite his beliefs, Brain built a simple pulley system with thick yarn and an empty spool to haul the silk hat up to the counter.

He could use the hat for extra fabric. Repurpose it. Shrink it so he could have a formal hat for himself.

He opened the window, allowing the cold wind to numb the exposed fur on his face. With all the flurries, he’d probably regret this decision later, but that wasn’t anything new. Then he dropped the loose end of the string outside and tugged the knot around the latch. Once he was satisfied with the knot’s tightness, he dropped the silk hat into the snow-covered bushes below.

It was ironic, how he experimented with chemicals and complicated machinery every night, but didn’t know what he was doing with a simple hat.

Maybe that humiliating demonstration had messed with his mind, overriding all his logic and planning capabilities.

But it seemed like such a flimsy excuse, not providing a satisfactory explanation as to why he’d dragged a so-called magic hat outside on what was supposed to be a simple break.

Brain slid down the string, his boots crunching against the snow as he landed. He stuck out a gloved hand, catching several flurries.

No two snowflakes looked alike, they always said. But their crystalline structures couldn’t be seen without a microscope, so they were nothing more than white powder to the naked eye. He rolled the flurries in his palm until they formed a tiny snowball.

It gave him an idea.

But...it was childish. Stupid.

Yet he found himself rolling snow anyway.

This patch of the property was completely undisturbed, so he had a nice layer of clean, white snow untouched by human footprints to work with.

Nobody was around to see him. And it gave his hands something to do instead of remaining idle.

He quickly found that rolling snow into a spherical shape per the typical snowman wasn’t as easy as television depicted. The snow didn’t want to move in the way he wanted, and it came out as a lumpy, ovular mound that happened to be the same size as him.

He kicked aside a thin, whiplike twig that had broken off from one of the nearby bushes as he gathered more snow to form the head. Then he reconsidered and picked up the twig.

In his hands, it looked very similar to a mouse’s tail. One that wasn’t broken by mishandling.

While he didn’t have the height or the tools required for a full-sized snowman, maybe he could create a snowmouse instead.

He carefully threaded the twig into the backside of the mound, curling it around so it resembled an actual tail.

Then he brushed extra snow away from the front, smoothing out the mound until it had the snowy equivalent of legs.

The head was more difficult to sculpt, but he managed to create something that would be recognizable as a mouse’s head, with two small snowballs forming the ears and a muzzle that jutted out. He would’ve made the muzzle smaller, but the increased size was necessary to counterweight the ears. Lastly, he slid two sticks into each side of the snowmouse to serve as arms.

The snowmouse was twice Brain’s height, and while it had the proportions of a mouse, it was ultimately just a cold white body with three embedded twigs. No personality, no splashes of color.

Anyone could easily miss or step on it.

The snowmouse would be gone by next week, once the temperature rose above freezing. No trace of his handiwork would remain.

Such was life. Short and brutal, with nothing to show for it.

The faceless snowmouse seemed oddly alone, the only other thing besides Brain in this wintery courtyard. There wasn’t anything for either of them here.

“Sorry,” Brain said, unsure of why he was apologizing to something that couldn’t hold a conversation. He’d wasted far too much time here. He had to get back to his plans. “I’m going inside.” 

A chilly breeze blew, and Brain held fast to his hood so it didn’t come off. As he turned to the lab, he saw the silk hat become airborne, flying several feet until it landed by Brain and the snowmouse.

He didn’t think the breeze had been that strong.

But the strangest part was how the hat was much smaller than before. It wouldn’t fit a human anymore.

Even the red rubber ball and pink scarf shrunk. And there were several pebbles that hadn’t been there previously, though Brain guessed they could’ve just gotten inside when he’d dropped the hat.

Brain stared at the items, then back at the snowmouse.

“Just this once,” he sighed as he draped the scarf between the main body and head, then placed the rubber ball at the end of the muzzle for a nose.

Two of the pebbles became unseeing eyes, though Brain was at a loss of what he should do with the other two pebbles. He tried using them as a replacement for buttons on the body, but that didn’t seem right. And placing them on the cheeks just looked awkward.  

Brain held a pebble in each hand, stepping back to determine the placement. But he didn’t find anything satisfactory.

He was about to discard the pebbles entirely, but then he noticed that the snowmouse seemed to have an odd pair of buckteeth sticking out at the end of its muzzle with the way he held the pebbles.

Perhaps he should’ve left it as a matter of perspective. It was stupid. It was silly.

But Brain stuck the pebbles on the underside of the muzzle anyway.

The snowmouse looked ridiculous with its red rubber nose, pink scarf, and pebbles for eyes and goofy buckteeth.

Another breeze picked up, and one of the snowmouse’s stick arms waved, moving up and down like it was saying hello.

Like it was...friendly. Alive. Happy.

Slowly, Brain approached the snowmouse. He placed one hand on the snowmouse’s body, balanced on his tiptoes, and threw the silk hat on top.

For reasons Brain couldn’t explain, the hat just seemed to go with the rest of the snowmouse.

And then he caught himself.

What a ridiculous concept.

Creating a snowmouse wasn’t his worst transgression, if he’d just left it at the creation process. No, instead he had to go personifying it! Assigning qualities that shouldn’t be designated to inanimate objects!

Snow wasn’t alive. It was water. That’s all it was.

“You’re snow. You’re just a pile of frozen water!” Brain yelled, turning away from the snowmouse. Enough with these idiotic fantasies. He was going inside, back to the cruel reality of trying to take over the world. “You’re not alive, so just leave me alone! Quit toying with my perception!”

He stomped towards the window, but only made it a few steps before an odd sound gave him pause.

“Toys? Narrrrrf! That sounds like jolly good fun! Can I play with toys too?”

Brain looked over his shoulder, and promptly tripped over himself in surprise.

A pair of bright blue eyes was looking back at him. Actual eyes, not pebbles.

And the snowmouse was talking.

End AN: I feel really bad for calling Brain ugly. *sobs*

I actually kinda find writing Hinkle’s dialogue fun. A bit of a strange character to crossover with, but fun. Hocus Pocus the Rabbit won’t be making an appearance. 

Also some changes will be made from the original Frosty the Snowman cause some parts of the cartoon don’t make sense. A greenhouse at the North Pole, really?

[elenamegan14]

Twisted Wonderland: Headcanons for Dorm Haunted Houses Pt.6 - Scarabia

MASTERLIST

Part 5

THE ATTRACTION: 

You wanna see one dorm that goes all out this year? Look no further. Scarabia spared no expenses on making their haunted house looking so EXTRA fine. 

I mean, we’re talking about real gold, jewels, and high definition special effects. Oh, and yeah, Jamil and Kalim made a lot of effort to make those bodies look REAL.  

Scarabia’s haunted house is an Arabian “Cave of Wonders” that leads to a wondrous treasure fault. Legend said it housed a wishing lamp that grants wishes upon its rightful owner. Many had attempted to get the fabled lamp, but those who entered would never come out again. All those who came perished by the traps… or by its guardian itself. 

Merchandises were also made - they got the usual keychains, t-shirts, and even plushies of Kalim and Jamil in their Haunted House outfit. Most of Kalim’s dolls have nearly sold out, which irritates Jamil a bit. 

They got an auction to get the replica of the wishing lamp - it was sold for 993,000 madols. 

When the guests and students first enter the house, what greets them is the sight of a gigantic blue tiger. Jamil and Kalim made it so that the giant tiger head’s eyes could move around and made an illusion with the sand that it could move around as well. They can see blood and corpses littering across the cave entrance. A booming, intimidating voice rang through the gates...

“ONLY ONE MAY ENTER, THE DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH.”

As they entered through the dark and wet cave, the guests and students could see the horrible fates of the tomb robbers. Some are pinned by spikes, some are squashed by rocks and some even got gobbled up by bugs, mummies, and even the monstrous stone statues of snake guardians itself. 

At times, they were scared off by mummies coming out of their coffins, enraged stone statues, and snake guardians slithering out of every hole on the walls, popping as they pleased. MC’s group were wary of every crack and holes and jumpy at every noise.��

They even have an interactive game inside, where they can get small prizes if they win. The game is to put all the jewels evenly within the scales guarded by monstrous stone lizards and snakes. If they won, they got the prize. If not… well, even if it’s not real, they will fire blue flames at the people. It cost 5 madols to play the game. 

Kalim. Sweet precious sunshine Kalim is dressed as a genie. A cute turban rested on top of his head. “Isn't this cool?! I heard that the Sorcerer of the Sand used to have a genie who does his bidding, so I decided to become the genie itself!” Oh, KALIM. 

Like, Kalim is VERY popular with the kids and girls. Why wouldn’t he? Compared to the other scary actors, Kalim is very friendly, immediately drops his character when it gets too intense for the audience, and even helps a lost, crying kid to his parents back. WHAT A SWEETIE. 

Yet, he was scolded by Jamil to get back to his post and character, “There is a reason WHY we have a scream counter!”

Of course, Jamil IS the NAGA. And he was scarily GORGEOUS. Scaly red, black, and gold scales adorned his face, his arms, and his chest. Gold pieces of jewelry with rainbow-colored gems adorned every single bit of his body, making him impossibly alluring. A red veil closed half of the bottom of his face. MC swears that their heart skipped a beat when they saw him - to the point that they almost got distracted when Jamil hypnotized them. 

It’s not only MC. Almost everyone with a naga-fetish kink immediately got lured by Jamil. They don’t care - LET THE SCALEY BASTARD CRUSH THEM WITH THEIR TAIL. 

Ah, but Jamil did not also want to seduce them. The purpose of a haunted house is to SCARE the pants off them, so once he managed to get his victims into his arms… he will reveal his “true” form by extending his jaw like a snake. 

Jamil bragged that he might scare most of the kids… but he got more girls (and a few boys) approaching him than Kalim did. Even if they worked together, Jamil’s competitive streak with Kalim never ends. //sighs

He’s also responsible for scaring most of the guests and students. Jamil will jump out of nowhere, hissing in close-up and sometimes touching people straight on their shoulders then slithers off. It was creepy. 

But as they went deeper to the caves, they noticed that it became more gold and glittery. The guests then went through the treasure vault, where mountains of gold coins, jewels, and even expensive diamonds littered all across the floors and walls. 

Oh, and all those things were real too. (“Kalim, when I said to fill in with gold coins, I didn’t mean for it to be real. People are going to steal it.”)

Of course, some of the opportunistic guests and students tried to steal it.

Which is why Jamil made counter magic so that any guest who tried to touch it would receive a mild electric shock, and for all the poor schmuck students to trigger the traps if they touched the treasure to protect El-Asim's fortune. 

They even put a sign that says: “Warning! Please do not touch it! You’ll be sorry!”

The main centerpiece of Scarabia’s Haunted House is the back chamber where the lamp is hosted. On the center of a beautiful gazebo filled with calm blue colors, lies a golden lamp encrusted with colorful jewels placed inside a plush, velvet pillow. Next to it, there was a snake statue holding a bloody, giant ruby. DO NOT TOUCH IT AT ALL COST. 

Otherwise, Jamil will slither right at you.

Jamil is there, with a giant hourglass, hissing and scaring everyone yet making all the ‘monster lovers’ feel flustered. 

Sometimes he can be seen eating a screaming scare actor, his jaws are wide and splattered with blood, guts everywhere it’s just sausage and ketchup.

Once the hourglass reached the end, the cave was lit up with red lights and flames came bursting out almost near the guests and students. 

Poor MC got a part of their hair singed when they almost came too close. 

THE MISSION: 

Kalim, the guide, is more than happy enough to relay the mission: inside this “Cave of Wonders” is a lamp, which is guarded by the vicious vizier-turned-naga, who greedily tried to covet the lamp for himself only to fall to its curse instead. The charm is inside the lamp, and students must survive the cave of wonders to get to the center of the haunted dorm itself.

To get to the lamp chamber, the students must solve one of the “interactive games” set up for them to get a piece of the puzzle that would open the chamber itself. It was guarded by stone snakes that would eliminate you if you failed to complete it within a limited time. They were given three tries before the statues threw them outside to enter again. 

The students were told that they can’t touch any treasures except for the charm itself. If they do… well, there’s no guarantee they can get out of the cave itself “alive”.

Also, Kalim warned them that if they ever encountered a naga, do not look into their eyes or they’ll hypnotize you to walk straight into their jail or a trap.

They have set up the atmosphere to be glamorous - all jewels and stuff, but when a student foolishly falls into the temptation of stealing a bit of real jewelry, he is immediately caught in a trap: getting pinned on the wall with knives, swords, etc. Don’t worry, he lives. 

He did beg to be let go though. 

The weeping did not help. Everyone almost felt sorry for him, but… THE CHARMS!

Actually, that guy served as an example. The students never thought that they WILL become part of the attraction for the guests if they fail. 

Soon after, more people are falling into traps - turns out, touching the treasures isn’t the only way to set it off - Kalim and Jamil make sure that there are hidden buttons and puzzles that would trigger each different trap. 

So now there are many students who are crushed by oversized styrofoam boulders, stuck inside a mummy casket with a terrifying mummy corpse prop, falls into a trap door, nearly impaled by spikes (they have no idea how Ace got into one, but HE’S FINE), being put to sleep by darts loaded with chloroform, buried underneath a glass case filled with black bugs (Jamil’s idea), and many more that you can think of. 

During the commotion, one of the charms from MC fell off. A student saw it on the ground, shining brightly. He grinned deviously, fingers twiddling to reach the charm. 

“Heh, heh! Today is my lucky day-” He got vibe-checked by the styrofoam/wood Pendulum of Doom(™) out of nowhere. 

As if it’s not enough, Jamil appears out of nowhere to scare the victims before dragging them off course, putting them inside the “Cage of Shame”.

It’s just a jailbox filled with failed students being put outside the haunted house, becoming an attraction for the passersby. They have to be content being laughed at than to go through the haunted house again. 

MC’s group found an interactive game. It took them at least two tries to get it - Ace, Deuce, and Grimm are responsible for most of the failures, the dumbasses - but Jack unexpectedly solved it. Everyone’s jaws had dropped.

“What? This is just a simple scale game. I learned it from my sibling’s video game before.” Jack retorted. It was a children’s math education game. 

After they escaped from more traps, avoid TOUCHING THE GOLD AND JEWELS (“Would it kill you to lay off from the treasure?!” Epel slapped Deuce, Ace and Grimm’s hands so hard that it throbbed) and put the puzzle to open the chamber, they finally saw the lamp. 

Here’s another thing that the guide told them: to get the lamp, they have to watch out from triggering more traps - the platforms are fragile, so there’s a chance they could fall into the water if they do not tread the platforms carefully. Also, please avoid the GIANT RUBY as it will trigger the Naga Guardian to be summoned in place. 

Epel, being athletic, volunteered to get the lamp. 

He managed to avoid the pitfalls, the stones, and even falling spikes. He managed to reach the lamp and get it… except for one problem.

See, that giant Ruby is too much to bear. People want it - in fact, it’s so shiny and red… Ace is drooling. Counting how much he can sell on his head. 

But Grimm, being Grimm, falls into one final temptation. That giant jewel on the snake statue - SO UNBEARINGLY BLOOD RED, AND HUGE, AND ASKING TO BE TOUCHED- congrats Grimm, you’ve become Abu. 

Jamil came out immediately, all scaly and terrifying. He grabbed the screaming Grimm like a ragdoll. 

“INFIDELSSSSSS!!!!” Jamil hissed, “You have touched the forbidden treasure! Come as you may rescue your little friend, but you’ll never see the light of the day... again!”

The Guardian Naga then puts Grimm in a freaking large hourglass, stating that once the last sand falls, they will all be eliminated. 

Where the hell did they get a giant hourglass? Who knows, they have a flying Racoon to save. GDI, Grimm. 

The only way to save Grimm is to steal the key on Jamil’s neck that would open a hatch for Grimm to escape. Ace, Epel, and Jack are in charge of attacking and distracting Jamil. Meanwhile, Deuce will deal with getting the key. MC is told to stay the sidelines to guard ALL the charms (“You’re important to us, kantokusei!” Deuce yelled, avoiding Jamil’s tail. It made MC blushed a bit.)

As Deuce was about to reach the key, Jamil noticed his presence and threw the poor guy right at the attacking trio like a pinball bowling. Jamil then slithered towards the frightened MC. 

Now you see here, Jamil felt he had gone EXTRA mile to make himself monstrously appealing to MC. He does have an interest in them after they defied him when he last Overblotted, so he took this chance to - ahem! - “impress them”. 

“It’s just you and me, Dorm Leader...” Jamil coaxed, using his hypnotizing Unique Magic again, grabbing MC’s chin. “Just relax and… trussssssst in me.” Jamil’s eye seemed to glow as he coaxed MC into his arms. 

MC struggled hard, but they also took this chance to grab a hold of Jamil’s key and pushed him away, much to his surprise. 

They throw the key to the recording Ace, getting Grimm out of the hourglass hatch with barely a moment to spare. Afterward, they immediately book it, leaving behind a grumbled Jamil…

...but not before he gave a final hiss and a lick to MC. They got flustered - the rest of the group weren’t happy. Ace gave Jamil a middle finger before he left. 

So they got a few close calls with the trap, Ace immediately went after Grimm to try and struggle the furball with Grimm only defending himself that the giant ruby calls out to him - don’t tell me you guys don’t feel it too! As usual, these idiots denied it. 

Kalim went after them, congratulating on completing the challenge and getting the charm. "Did you guys like it??? Did you have fun?? =D"

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the best question because it’s their turn trying to get Kalim for putting the REAL jewels and GOLD COINS as a set trap. What was he thinking? 

And then Epel gets depressed. He sighs a lot as they went onto the next haunted house. They only realized it a while later after they got curious at Epel’s sudden demeanor - Epel came from Pomefiore dorm. AND THEIR HAUNTED HOUSE IS NEXT. 

Just like Epel’s immediate annoyance, the smell of aromatic perfumes, iron, and sounds of fangirl squealing echoed as the Pomefiore’s Haunted Dorm looms ahead...

Part 7

[totallynotnerdy63]

Little Mermaid (Underswap Sans x Reader) Rating: General Audiences.

This is a one shot from my Fairy Tale AU series cross posted on Ao3. I hope you enjoy this, I know I certainly did! All ownership goes to UnderSwap’s Sans creator. (I forgot what your name was :/) Now for a fluffy Little Mermaid retelling Sans x Reader

The surface dwellers had always intrigued you. All of their wondrous inventions were always ruined by the time they were found. From those strange metal objects with small spikes on the edge of them, loving dubbed "triple knives" by the Royal Appraiser, to the peculiar soggy things that were bound in leather and dissolved when you touched them.

You loved exploring the wreckages, always discovering more inventions. Your favorite being a strange instrument that when flipped, sand would drop to the bottom. You would play with it for hours, it never seized to amaze you at what the humans invented.

Your family looked down on your habits, calling you eccentric and strange. You paid them no mind though, and greatly enjoyed your time exploring.

But with each discovery, your longing to view the surface grew more and more. You wanted so badly to be able to walk amongst the Land Dwellers, you'd gladly kill yourself for even a day with them. You had waited patiently for your eighteenth birthday, that would be the day you'd visit the Surface!

Instead of watching from underwater you could swim to the Surface and see all the wonders! (From a safe distance of course.) You eagerly counted down the days until your birthday, month after month, week after week, and finally day after day. Then, it finally arrived, your birthday was tomorrow!

With pleasurable mood you went about your business, excitement in the thought you'd view the surface finally! As you swam through the city, a gathering of people caught your attention. Drawn by the crowd you swam to the front, people parting to let you pass.

"Our great king Triton passes a Royal Degree that on the people's eighteenth birthday, they shall be no longer be allowed to the Surface." The crowd muttered, and you felt your heart shattering. How could your father do this to you? You squared your shoulders in Determination and swam towards the palace, determined to change his mind.

You sobbed on your bed, the water contorting around you. Your father had forbidden you from leaving the palace. The new law was to protect you. According to him your obsession with the Surface was becoming dangerous, and when you had come to your senses you'd be allowed to roam the palace freely again.

You sniffed softly, your tears slowly stopping. You wouldn't let this stop you, you'd...find a way around it. You began planning. If anyone could help you it was the Sea Witch Ursula. You had heard many stories about her. Some good, some evil, some in the middle ground.

You waited until night had fallen, and your family was dinning happily in the Banquet Hall. Bitterly you swam through the Halls and out the main gate, disappearing into the Kelp Forest.

You floated nervously in front of the cave entrance. This was Ursula's lair, you were sure of it. You tentatively began to push yourself forward, but you got cold fins and began to backpedal. Turning away, face distraught at your failure and disappointment in your eyes, you almost missed the voice calling out to you.

"Dear child. Come in~ visitorssss are alwayssss welcomed here." A voice hissed at you. You swallowed, and slowly began the swim into the cave.

You followed along the passage, the voice guiding you along. Finally you reached the end, entering a large room, you felt your heart stop.

A large imposing siren was stirring a potion over an enchanted fire. You had heard stories of your ancestors, but having never met one. Your tail twitched nervously as she remained entranced in her potion.

"Come in dear~ I won't bite." She hissed, her voice was obviously old and ruined. "Tell me what troubles you? Could it a young man? A romance unrequited? Perhaps you have a family member who lays ill. Or maybe..." She turned and peered at you, "You wish to visit the Surface like a Land Dweller." She hissed the last part with distaste, and you felt your blood run cold at both her tone, and the words she spoke. How did she know?

"You are not the first to come seeking that, nor will you be the last. The price will be high, but it is payable." You felt your heart leap with joy, before feeling it sink as her words registered. A...high price? No matter, you'd willingly pay it!

"What would you like Lady Ursula, be it my throne, my first born, or anything else, I guarantee you shall have it." You murmured lowly, eyes staring fiercely into hers.

She laughed, her voice echoing eerily around the cavern. "My child, I need none of that. All I wish for is your voice. That's all, I will grant you what you desire, in return for your voice."

You felt your heart fall again. Your voice was one of your best characteristics, it was prized by your father as the best of all of your sisters. Not that it mattered, it was unlikely you'd see them again.

"If I give you my voice, I can go to the Surface? For how long?" Your voice wavered slightly, but grew firm.

"Until you die my child, or... I could make a deal with you." Her mouth formed into a sharp grin and you eyed them wearily.

"What kind of deal?" You narrowed your eyes, deals with those who dabbled in magic were not to be trusted.

"If you find someone to fall in love with, and who loves you in return. Your voice will be returned to you. You will only have three months to preform this task, and if you fail, you shall become the foam on the sea." You shifted nervously. You might could've charmed someone with your voice, but without would be much more difficult than with it. But what the hell, if you died so what?

"I accept." You eagerly held out a hand to the enchantress.

She grinned deeply, "then let us begin."

You winced as you numbly felt your mouth with your fingers, your tongue had been sliced out, if someone did fall in love with you, it would grow back.

"Here." Ursula gave you a small vial filled with a lilac potion. You eyed it, "Relax, this is the potion that will turn you human now, be sure to-" You snatched the vial eagerly and swam away, missing the last part of her message. "Foolish child."

You grinned as you swam through the kelp forest, unable to wait any longer you popped the bottle open and downed the liquid inside. Suddenly you gasped in pain, as something began burning and searing at your body. You tail felt like it was being torn in two, and your gills felt clogged. You struggled momentarily, closing your eyes in pain before it stopped. You cracked your eyes and to your glee there were two dangly things instead of a tail! You tried to shout in excitement, but found yourself unable to breath. In your haste you had forgotten Land Dwellers couldn't breath water!

You attempted to swim upwards but felt dismayed as you couldn't swim as quickly. Black spots began to fill your vision, just before you reached the surface you lost consciousness and plummeted into the depths.

"HUMAN! WAKE UP!" A loud voice shouted in your ear and you bolted upwards. Confusion flooded you as you looked at your surroundings...this wasn't underwater. This...wasn't UNDERWATER! You pumped a fist in triumph, celebration on the forefront of your mind...until someone cleared their voice. "GLAD TO SEE YOUR AWAKE! THE MEDICS WERE AFRAID YOU WOULDN'T WAKE UP!" You turned your eyes upon him, this was the first Land Dweller you'd meet. You blinked in surprise, this was not what you were expecting. A large skeleton stood before you. There were literal stars in his eyes and his gaze met yours. You managed to scramble to your knees and you pit your hands on his face trying to examine him.

"ERM HUMAN, AS MAGNIFICENT AS I AM. I MUST ASK THAT YOU REFRAIN FROM TOUCHING ME WITHOUT PERMISSION. I APPRECIATE YOUR EAGERNESS THOUGH." You flushed and jumped backwards, and you met his gaze apologetically. He simply laughed softly at you.

"IT'S OK LITTLE HUMAN. I KNOW I AM IRRESISTIBLE! I'M HAPPY YOU SEEM OK! IT SEEMED LIKE SOMEONE HAD TRIED TO HURT YOU!" You blinked confused, someone tried to hurt you? You opened your mouth to explain, but stopped when you couldn't get any sounds to come forth. Oh. That was why. You shrugged sheepishly at the Skeleton's look, and tried to mime an explanation but stopped when he looked more confused.

"YOU MUST WANT MY NAME HUMAN! MY NAME IS THE MAGNIFICENT SANS! PRINCE OF SNOWDIN KINGDOM! CAN YOU WRITE SMALL HUMAN?" You smiled at that, Sans was a fitting name from him.

You stared at him quizzically when he mentioned writing, what was writing? it sounded pretty.

Noticing your confusion he opened a drawer and pulled out parchment and a charcoal pencil. You leaned forward cautiously as he scribbled something on the paper.  Holding it up you could faintly make out familiar markings, it looked similar to the Mermish Alphabet. You held out your hand tentatively. You wanted to try to make the strange marks too! "OH! DO YOU WANT TO TRY HUMAN?" You beamed up at him, glad he had gotten the hint. He placed the stick in your hand and you poked it at the strange paper thing. You squeaked when it left a mark, and you peered up shocked at Sans who laughed at you.

"HERE...HUMAN LIKE THIS ~"

@#$@@$@@$@$@%@$&@%@%#&@%#&#%@%#%#%#%#%@@&#&@%%#

It's been almost two months since you had become human. Sans had become your best friend. You loved your time on the Surface. Everything amazed you, you learned the "triple knives" thing was actually a nifty invention called a fork! And it was meant for food, not hair! There were many of those sand things that you learned were called Sand Glasses and they would count the time for you.

Sans had a wonderful brother named Papyrus who made continuous puns and jokes to Sans eternal annoyance. You how ever loved them and could (and would) listen to them for hours.

You were feeling slightly nervous as your time was almost up! But you had something that would help everything go faster now! Sans had hired a tutor to teach you how to read and write, and you were now fluent in English writing!

You sat in a restaurant grinning at the person before you who was looking at you skeptically. You clasped your notebook eagerly and grinned at them.

They sent you a wink and placed a hand on your shoulder. "So sweetheart, what brings you around here?" You quickly scribbled a note in your notebook explaining how you were lonely and looking for a friend. They skimmed over it and chuckled softly. "Not gotta voice?" You raised an eyebrow at them, your action clearly speaking your meaning.

They laughed a booming laugh. "No need to yell at me Sweetheart ~" They grinned down at you. "So what'da wanna eat?" You beamed back at him, quickly growing comfortable with them.

You squealed happily! The friendship date went so well! You did a strange little happy dance, and practically skipped to your room. You weren't paying attention to where you were going and ran straight into Sans's *fiancé*. She absolutely hated you. So it was no surprise when she glared at you, the scowl on her face more evident than ever. You mimed an apology but she simply grew angrier.

"How dare you!" Her shrill voice hissed out, "you pathetic wretch!" She went to slap you, but you scrambled backwards and ducked away from her with a laugh. You slipped into your room and locked the door with a quiet click.

Letting out a happy hum you began to write down in your journal about your new friend, and hopefully soon to be lover, Alex.

@%#&##@&$@4&##$#&+(%$$!((&$4+($$&+%+:%(+&-?!%-;%+;%++'6(+?%#;@(#+

Things had been going so well with Alex, you were head over heels in love with him, and he seemed to feel the same way about you!

He was constantly hanging around the castle just to see you! Nothing made you more happy than to see his slightly messy appearance, coming jogging towards you out of one of the castle corridors.

Which is why it came as such a shock when it was revealed by a maid, he was seen snogging Sans's fiancé. Your heart felt like it was breaking. You only had two days left until your time was up.

You bitterly cried for hours, as he had revealed to you he never had any interest in you besides platonic friendship. You were going to die tomorrow and you couldn't stop it.

Sans tried to comfort you, but couldn't do much due to his own misery at his ex fiancée and his unknowningness of your situation.

Finally he left you, and retreated distraught to his room. You continued crying until the next day. You felt numb. Your family was right, the Land Dwellers were a cruel people, aside from a few exceptions. Sans was one of those people.

You dried your tears and pulled your notebook to you, writing out the whole story. For the most part. Tearing out those pages you gently folded them and placed them on the bed.

You then dressed yourself properly and began the trek to the sea. Each step you took was painful, it felt like sharp knives were pricking your feet, and the sun felt like fire upon your fair skin. You had already spent your time mourning, so you simply climbed down the cliffs and sat waiting for the sun to set.

You hadn't expected for it to go like this. You had been so confident in your abilities to charm someone. A lone tear trailed down your face, but before it fell something caught it.

Or should you say someone? You glared up at Sans through a blur of tears. How dare he follow you here, the sun was almost set.

He knelt beside you and laid his head on your shoulder, "Why Didn't You Tell Me Before?" He whispered, "I Could've Helped You." You shrugged, determined to get him to leave before you...passed.

"..." his voice shook when he spoke again. "I'll Kill Myself Then." You stared up startled at him, shock and horror evident on your face. "Yes. I Don't Want To Be Without You... You Mean The World To Me..." His hands shook, a rustle of paper making your realize he had the papers you had left clutched in his hand.

You shook your head no at him, but he ignored you. "Please. I Don't Care If Papyrus Would Be Left Alone, I Love You So Much." His arms wrapped around you and made you shake slightly.

You were still processing the words he said, until you realized with a sniff the sun was almost gone. You reached a hand up to pat his arm in a comforting way to try and say "no, don't kill yourself." You closed your eyes as the sun set.

The pain to your relief stopped, and you blacked out in relief. It was over, you hoped Sans wouldn't kill himself.

Suddenly a burst of light brought you back into reality with a gasp. Sans held your body sobbing and you blinked up at him. Why was he crying? You were free now? You felt his tears hit your face. And in your desperation you tried calling out his name. "Sanssss" Sans jumped in surprise, sockets popping open to stare at you. He mouthed the word what, and you tried again.

"Sannsssss" he stared at you with an open jaw, before giving a croak and cradling your head close to him.

"Oh Thank The Stars, I Thought I'd Lost You." He sniffed into your shoulder and you smiled softly. You were dead and nothing would change that.

Sans brought his lips to yours in a delicate kiss, forcing you to realize that you were alive.

"What the hell?" You mumbled into the kiss.

[wondroustailsofffxiv]

Prize Donations Update

All prize donation forms sent in as of today have been responded to! I am utterly floored and humbled that so many people were willing to put in their time and effort to make this event something wonderful for everyone involved. As a creator, I understand that any sort of creative content takes time and effort to create, so I very much appreciate everything that you all have offered to give; it makes me very excited to see this event unfold!

Please note there was one form without a name, so I was unable to contact the person in regards to their donation; if you submitted a form and did not hear back from me (Darthsuki) in some way, please re-submit your form with your name attached so I know where to contact you at. This is because I don’t gather email addresses or require people to be logged on for any form I make, and I apologize if I didn’t make that clear enough in the form itself!

If you are interested in donating a prize, please feel free to fill out this google form to let me know and I will get in touch with you. 

You don’t have to offer prizes for all five winners by any means--and I am humbled to take in any content you would like to offer! Examples of current prizes include money, mog station items, crafted gear in-game, art, writing, headcanons and thensome. If you’re unsure about anything and have questions, please don’t hesitate to send me a message!

[indiavolowetrust]

Fairy Tales for the Fallen

Other Tales: The Little Scorpion, The Very Hungry Beetle, The Tongue-Cut Crow, Her Name Was Thousand-Eyes, Others Coming Soon

HOW THE ARROGANT PEACOCK LOST HIS FEATHERS

In a very beautiful palace, within the confines of a wondrous garden, and beside a blood-red bed of roses, there sat the finest of golden cages. And within this golden cage sat the finest of leather collars, within which sat the finest of creatures. And lo and behold, he was the most comely creature one could ever imagine! This creature was the crooning peacock of the king, the most prized of all the king’s animals. The king had a crow with the most charming of voices, a beetle with the most beautiful, iridescent wings, and even a serpent with dark, shining scales -- but it was the peacock that had won over his favor, for he was the most obedient of all of the other beasts.

How talented he is! the king would cry in admiration, parading his beast among all the other nobles. The king would then demand the peacock perform another trick, the peacock would do so, and the king’s entourage would clap their hands in delight. Oh, how delightful! How wonderful!

The peacock would only hold his head in pride, you see, for he had known no other life than his inside of the palace. He would perform elaborate tricks for the king, and the king would shower him with gold and jewels. He would fan his array of pitch-black feathers to the other nobles, and the nobles would fuss over which feather was more comely than the other. The answer, of course, was the pitch-black pair of feathers in the very center of his tail, but he loved to see the nobles squabble over his beauty.

These things he knew, and these things he knew only.

The first night, as he preened his shining black feathers -- for they were his pride and joy -- his brother, the sleepy ox, asked him a question through the window.

Do you not tire of their games? said the sleepy ox, looking upon the peacock’s collection of silver combs, collars embedded with precious stones, and pillows covered in silk brocade. The king parades you around the palace on a silver leash. Do you not feel shame?

Oh, you are only jealous, snipped the peacock. It is only fitting that I am the king’s favorite.

And so the sleepy ox went away.

The second night, as he preened his shining black feathers -- for they were his most beautiful asset -- his brother, the hungry beetle, asked him a question through the window.

Brother, I believe that something very important has happened, said the hungry beetle. He looked upon the golden shackle that the king had placed on his brother’s leg, eyeing it with worry. Why have you let him confine you so? Come here, and I will release you from your bonds.

Oh, you are only worried that the king gives me more exotic food than you, snipped the peacock. Go away, and the barracks shall feed you in the morning.

And so the hungry beetle went away.

The third night, as he preened his shining black feathers -- for surely he was the most perfectly made creature in the palace -- his brother, the insecure scorpion, asked him a question through the window.

You have let yourself become blinded by your jewels! cried the scorpion, looking upon the great ruby that the king had given to the peacock. The additional collar sat like a crown upon the peacock’s proud head, the crimson jewel shining like the light of a morning star. Why have you allowed the king to give you such an unfortunate thing? Remove that thing at once!

And deprive myself of the greatest of my presents? snipped the peacock, looking upon the scorpion with disdain. You are only worried that the palace will come to adore me even more than they do you.

And so the insecure scorpion went away.

The fourth night, as he preened his shining black feathers -- for the king had not taken him out in some time -- his brother, the envious serpent, asked him a question through the window.

Why have you not come to the aid of your kin? asked the envious serpent, peering at him through the bars of the peacock’s gilded cage. So encrusted with jewels was this cage that the envious serpent could barely discern the peacock. Your brothers have taken up arms in the name of their sister! They intend to wage a war against the king himself!

For the first time, the peacock said nothing. The peacock looked upon his false crown inset with ruby, the silver collar, and the golden bars of the cage that the king had created for him. The peacock looked upon his collection of silver combs, brocade pillows, and the single golden shackle that the king had placed on his leg. The peacock thought of how he had looked upon the other creatures of the palace with disdain, how he had dismissed them so severely -- and he felt shame. He did not admit this to the envious serpent.

And so the envious serpent went away.

The fifth night never came.

Emboldened as he was by his position as the king’s favorite -- as well as the words of his brothers -- he escaped from his gilded cage to seek an audience with the king himself. He was sure that the king would listen to him, of all his animals, for how could the king deny his favorite? How could the king look upon his beauty, which was as bright as a morning star, and not lend an ear? He marched to the quarters of the king himself, holding his head quite proudly for the nobility of his actions, and demanded that the king put an end to this war.

And so the king took the arrogant peacock by his collar, flung him into the air, and tore away his most beautiful pair of feathers.

It was only by luck that his brother, the crow, had come to save him -- but by that time, it was too late to save his feathers. The arrogant peacock was stripped of his title as the king’s favorite, his beloved jewels and silver and gold taken away from him, and he and his brothers were cast out deep, deep, and deeper into the darkness below.

And that is how the peacock lost his feathers.

[finalfantasyxivwritings]

Old Traditions

AO3 Version

Relationship: WoL(Illya Skawi)/Alphinaud

Rating: PG

Summary: Alphinaud is spending a few days in Ishgard, and learns about an old, peculiar tradition he can’t help but be curious about.

Note: This is a (super late) prize for @whitherliliesbloom for winning the Wondrous Tails 2019 event--at first this was supposed to be something simple and sweet for her character Illya and Alphinaud (whom are adorable together), but one thing lead to another and now I have another fic to add to the ‘lockets as engagement rings in Ishgard’ headcanon because apparently I love it too much.

-

When Alphinaud makes the purchase, it was not fueled by plan nor far-reaching intentions. It had simply been something in just the right spot in the window to catch his eye, and furthermore something beautiful enough he thought it better suited someone else--someone whom he cared about deeply. 

Suffice to say even as he held the locket in his hand and reached out to show the shopkeeper the item he had intended to purchase, it was with no greater meaning than that of a rather fanciful gift spurred only by impulse. He could already hear Tataru’s sharp chastising the moment she’d find out and realize how much he so flippantly spent on it--but it was of his own earnings, and the recipient of his own choosing.

It was beautiful, all things considered. A locket of silver, decorated with various details of twisting vines and flowers blooming around a setting of amethyst or somesuch gemstone. It glittered so vibrantly even in the dull sunlight of an overcast day in Ishgard that Alphinaud could hardly take his eyes off of it once discovered.

Though it did not compare to the beauty he oft beheld within her eyes, Alphinaud could think of only one woman who deserved such a gift. Neither could be bring himself to think about how it pleased him to think of her wearing it--something of his own effort upon her, a symbol of affection and dedication to bringing a smile onto her lips like how she brought a smile to so many others around her.

Perhaps it was from this silly, romantic notion that had left an impression upon the elder, wizened elezen woman who sold it to him. As gil exchanged hands and Alphinaud had the locket safely tucked into a small, plain-looking wooden case, he couldn’t help but notice the look in her eyes.

“Is there something the matter?” He found himself asking. “Did I not give you enough gil?”

“Oh no, there’s nothing wrong,” she said, waving a hand as if to fend off his mounting worry. “It’s not everyday a young man like yourself has his heart so set upon someone he loves.”

Between the words themselves and the tone suffused within them, Alphinaud cannot help the heat that blooms over his cheeks. He clears his throat and allows his eyes to fall downwards.

"I-...I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you mean."

He doesn't know quite why he feels embarrassed when he hardly knew the woman, nor would likely never see her again once the purchase was complete--he's not set to remain in Ishgard for more than a few suns before meeting with several Scions back in the heart of Eorzea proper. Still, Alphinaud found his gaze falling towards the trinket in his hand, heat blooming like sweet spring lilies over his cheeks.

“You are not from Ishgard then?” the shopkeep asks.

Alphinaud shakes his head, and the warm look falls ever so slightly from the woman’s expression.

“Ah, well then pay my silliness little thought. ‘Tis only something of a tradition, though most young folk nowadays don’t seem to pay it much mind.”

She hums to herself and turns away, as if to return to what she’d been doing mere minutes before.

For as easy as it could have been to simply let the topic be and scurry away with his purchase, Alphinaud's sense of curiosity vastly outweighed his sense of embarrassment. He purses his lips and clears his throat in a vaguely subtle attempt to show he was still standing there, and only then does the woman turn back around to look at him with one arched brow.

"I...don't mean to intrude further upon your time," Alphinaud says lightly. "but I find myself curious to this old tradition, if you would care to explain it."

The woman stares at him for a few moments, with the silence only broken by distant sounds of construction from direction of the firmament. Sounds of rebuilding and hope only made possible by the efforts of the same woman Alphinaud was purchasing the locket for. 

Through the years of life experience seemingly etched in lines and wrinkles upon her face, a glimmer of warm amusement filled her eyes. She smiles, then steps closer to the counter, so that she could perch her elbows upon the old wood and her chin upon the heel of a palm.

"When I was but a girl, many years ago mind you, it was commonplace that a suitor would gift a locket to one they were courting."

"Courting?"

"Yes," the woman nods. "Once it was a gift of engagement. Far before my time, the lockets would be made by hand of the suitor or their family--but you can imagine for many it was easier to simply commission or purchase from a craftsman."

Alphinaud's brow furrows. He understands the words perfectly well, but it takes him a few moments for the context to sink in--why she had eyed him with such gentle amusement as he purchased the locket in the first place. He looks down to the small box in his hand, and then back up, realization at last dawning on him.

For some reason, his cheeks are burning ever hotter than before, and words that should have seemed obvious in answer yet tumble awkwardly over his lips.

"Ah, I see. An engagement of...marriage, I presume?"

The woman, whether amused by Alphinaud’s embarrassment or simply happy in his genuine interest, smiles just a little brighter.

"Of course. When my mother ran this very shop, there were young men of even the highest houses who would spend hours looking at her work to find the most suiting locket for their soon-to-be betrothed. And even before that, both my mother and grandmother were oft commissioned for their craft--such beautiful works of art made for one couple’s promise of lifelong union.” 

Wizened by years of life, the woman’s soft eyes fall upon the collection of jewelry across the counter before her. And then, after a moment more, a sigh slowly escapes her lips. Alphinaud watches as soft disappointment fills where warmth had been in her eyes.

"...There is meaning to each of these pieces, you know."

As she gazes over the work before her, Alphinaud can’t help himself but to speak, as if the words take life into themselves and fall from his tongue all the same.

“And what of this one?”

Though the motion is a little jarring and it takes him several moments to do so, he opens the small box in his hand for emphasis, to reveal the glittering locket within. As he does, the shopkeeper looks at him, and the smile returns—perhaps with just a touch more mischief than before, though the young Scion is hardly able to keep his mind away from how the sentiment connects to his own feelings for the warrior he is set to gift the locket to mere days from now.

“You certainly have an eye for gems. The amethyst, set in the center and surrounded by a wreath of flowers-“ she reaches out and gently taps a gloved finger to the center of the locket. “-the one you love must be the sort who oft takes on the suffering of others as her own burden. She forges a path of goodwill, and the flowers that flourish within that path are the lives she touches with her kindness.”

As she leans back, Alphinaud can’t help but feel a little awed.

“...and how can you say all that if you don’t know her?”

Within the woman’s eyes, a glimmer of something soft. In her lips, a wry smile, one that makes her look many years before, gazing down at a young man seeking to promise his heart to the person he cares most for.

“I don’t have to know them, young sir,” she says simply. “You were the one who picked that locket from all the rest of them. And given your surprise at its meaning, it would seem your heart chose perfectly.”

Even in the sharp, cold wind of Ishgard, Alphinaud feels a genuine warmth deep within his chest, one that grows with the reminder that he would be seeing that person soon, the one for whom his heart sang. The one who truly deserved the work of art clutched within his palm, and the deep tradition behind it.

“I thank you for taking the time to explain it to me; I will properly treasure this locket, and I know the one I’m to give it to will love it all the same.”

A gentle laugh escapes from the old woman, and she reaches a hand up to gently cover her mouth.

“And might you indulge me with the name of this one so dear to you?”

Alphinaud opens his mouth to speak, but at first not a single word comes out. 

So many ways to describe her; the warrior of light, the hope of Eorzea, the savior of Ishgard, Ala Mhigo and Doma alike. The one whose smile makes everyone feel at ease, the one who makes everyone feel safe—the one who, whenever she laughs, makes Alphinaud’s heart race and his thoughts hard to place.

“Her name,” he finally says, closing the locket box and gently tucking it into a pocket, and meeting the woman’s eyes. “-is Illya.” 

[amerrierworld]

Stronger Than Diamonds

Part III of Fiercer than Fire

Pt. 1: x

Pt. 2: x

Summary: Thorin is stubborn, though secretly beginning to crumble under the persuasion of Fili and his comrades. You, however, have no time to worry about his opinion with goblins capturing your friends.

Characters: Fili x fem!reader, Thorin, Company

Word Count: 2,664

Warnings: Goblins

-

You’d lost count of how much you had been sneezing since you had started the hike up the Misty Mountains. Having reluctantly left the blissful haven of Rivendell, you’d been brainstorming options on how best to survive the oncoming storm and encounters you were going to have inside the mountains. Nothing was coming to mind.

Maybe you should’ve stayed behind with Gandalf and joined him as he left Rivendell. But no, you thought, you belonged with the Dwarves. You would see this through to the end, even if it meant facing near death in the mountains.

As you were thinking, your hand gripped Fili’s tighter without realizing and he looked over at you.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly. Your head snapped up and you managed a wry smile at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just worried, is all. Rivendell was such a nice place compared to- well, everything else we’ve encountered so far.”

Fili chuckled in agreement.

“No need to worry, Y/N. You have me by your side, and the others. In case anything happens, we’ll all have your back.”

You smiled and felt someone staring at you. You looked over your shoulder to find Thorin, once again, glaring at the two of you. Your face fell immediately.

“Maybe not all of you,” you mumbled.

-

Thorin was unhappy. As usual. Though he was content with leaving the wretched Elves behind, he hadn’t expected you and his nephew to grow even closer, defying his orders so blatantly and seemingly enjoying it too.

He was marching, brooding and trying to remind himself why you angered him so, and why you were no match for the Durin family.

The two of you chuckled up ahead and the sound made Thorin’s eyes look up, landing on your hand entwined with Fili’s, walking side by side. It made his blood boil.

“Ah, young love. What a wondrous thing, isn’t it laddie?”

Thorin was startled to find Balin next to him, not realizing the white-haird Dwarf had joined him to interrupt his thoughts. He, too, was looking at you and Fili up ahead.

“I do not know of what you speak,” Thorin retorted gruffly. Balin pressed his lips together in a tight line.

“Come, come, now, Thorin, have you ever seen Fili this happy before? Certainly not with any lass like this.”

Thorin furrowed his brows, ready to argue. “Nonsense. Fili’s been perfectly happy with other courtships. This quest has simply got in the way of that. I’m to make sure one of them continues after we’ve taken back our home.”

Balin raised an eyebrow, much like Dwalin had mastered to do. “Name one.”

Thorin blinked in surprise. His mind raced to respond, not letting down so easily.

“There were plenty of potential suitors. The young noble lass from Ered Luin, ginger.”

“Ran off with one of the stableboys more than once, if I recall correctly.”

“They liked each other.”

“But they didn’t love each other, Thorin.”

Thorin frowned at Balin. “That daughter of one of Dis’ friends, then. The seamstress, they got along just fine.”

Balin laughed. “Oh, aye, but only to ogle other pretty ladies together. She was never interested in Fili, my lad.”

Thorin cast his eyes down in thought. Had he really been so blind to all those suitors?

“Look, Thorin. You are meant to take the throne at Erebor when we reclaim it. And if Fili does become King after you, what harm would having Y/N as Queen do?”

“She’s of the race of Men.”

“Yes, but not the race of Men here. She’s been beyond this world, Thorin. Seen things, learned things that we can hardly imagine. Wouldn’t that be an advantage for Erebor at least?”

Thorin hadn’t thought of it that way. He had never thought of you being an asset to the rebuilding and growth of his kingdom, only a hindrance. He was silent for a moment.

“All I’m saying lad, is that you and I have both seen Fili grow up, and he’s still growing into a fine young Dwarf to this day. We both know that there hasn’t been any other lass that’s made him smile so.”

Thorin looked back towards the two of you ahead of him and Balin. You turned your head to meet his gaze and the smile you had for Fili faded instantly. Something in Thorin’s chest felt heavy after the glare you two shared, something like guilt.

He pushed it aside as rain began to fall. He’d worry about it later.

-

“Y/N! Are you alright?”

“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins?”

“Y/N, wake up! Please.”

“Dwarves, Your Malevolence.”

“Y/N, it’s Fili, please, please wake up. They’ll throw you over or torture you if you don’t.”

“Dwarves?”

“Hm, huh? Fili? My head hurts…”

“We found them on the front porch.”

“It’s me, darling. It’s me, please wake up. Open your eyes.”

“Well, don’t just stand there; search them! Every crack, every crevice.”

Claws were tearing at your skin and pain seared through you. Your eyes flew open and immediately you began fighting back. The stench of goblin filled your senses and you remembered where you were. The blow from falling down from the trap had knocked you unconscious, and blood was dripping down your face. You blinked and shook your head to wake up, struggling against the goblins as they tore off your coat and emptied your pockets.

“What are you doing in these parts? Speak!” The Great Goblin cried out, swinging his staff and staring the Company down.

None said a word, and you wormed your way through all the bodies to stand flush against Fili. His chest was rising rapidly, and your own skin was covered in a cold and terrified sweat. His eyes glanced over to you quickly, and you saw a moment of relief in them, but only briefly.

“Well then, if they will not talk, we’ll make them squawk! Bring out the Mangler! Bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with the youngest.”

He pointed a gnarled finger at Ori, who’s face was one of shock. Nori grabbed his arm and tried to wrestle the army that began grabbing at his younger brother. Thorin stepped forward.

“Wait.”

Everyone halted and turned to him. Thorin took another step forward, blocking Ori and met the Goblin King’s gaze, who looked on in surprise.

“Well, well, well, look who it is. Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror; King under the Mountain.”

Your eyes were flickering about, stepping even closer to Fili. The goblins were eyeing all of you hungrily. Whether for sport or for a meal, you couldn’t tell.

“Oh, but I’m forgetting, you don’t have a mountain. And you’re not a king. Which makes you nobody, really.” 

“You don’t think goblins like man-meat, do you?” you whispered to Fili, trembling. “I mean, the Trolls were picky about eating you lot, so maybe these won’t wanna eat me.”

“I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours. A Pale Orc astride a White Warg.”

Fili smirked a little. “I don’t think they’re going to care about what we taste like when they’ve skinned us and hacked us up in pieces, lass.”

You grimaced and nodded weakly.

“Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago,” Thorin was practically spitting the words at the Great Goblin, his hands in fists at his side.

“So you think his defiling days are done, do you?” The Great Goblin chuckled lowly, moving towards a small creepy goblin hanging in a basket. “Send word to the Pale Orc; tell him I have found his prize.”

The tiny messenger goblin was cackling as it left, and your blood ran cold.

“You’ll be pleased to know that your long-term rival is still very much alive,” The Great Goblin snickered. “And your battles against him have meant nothing.”

Thorin visibly sneered and hurled forward as if to attack the giant monstrosity single-handedly.

“Uncle, no!” Fili exclaimed, grabbing Thorin’s arms before he could foolishly attack. You stood close behind him, keeping a hand wrapped around Fili’s upper arm, his presence being the only reassurance to prevent you from going into full panic-mode.

“Uncle, eh?” The Goblin King repeated. “Oh, what a wondrous mistake you’ve made there, King,” he snarled the word, “bringing your own kin into my realm.”

The cackling grew loud around them and echoed in the cave. Your ears hurt from the goblins’ laughter and you held onto Fili firmly. Then, four goblins dashed forward to throw Thorin to the side and seized Fili by a limb each.

The scream that ripped through your chest didn’t sound like it belonged to you, but your throat hurt nonetheless. Fili was struggling, trying to reach for one of his many daggers hidden in his clothes, but the goblins were holding him firmly, tearing through fabric and skin as they hauled him forward.

“So, you’ve managed to have a pathetic little bloodline after all?” The Goblin exclaimed, leaning down a little to examine Fili closely. “Hm, a little thin-looking, but I suppose he’d make a good meal or two for this lot.”

The goblins holding Fili down snickered maniacally. Your face went pale and you tried to reach for him, but Bofur held you back.  They forced him to his knees. One of the larger goblins held up a thick whip with many tails. Cheering ensued around them.

“Whip him til he breaks!” the Goblin screeched. “Make him bleed!”

Your cries mixed with those of the Company, and you managed to worm your way out of Bofur’s grasp as the whip came bearing down.

What happened next was all a blur to you. You were shoving bodies out of the way and hurled yourself over Fili’s crouched figure just as blinding pain coursed through your back. Fili gasped as he felt your body cover your own, turning his torso to catch you protectively.

“What’s this?” The Goblin cried. “A saviour for the pretty little princeling?”

“Y/N, what in Durin’s name are you doing?” Fili whispered raggedly in your ear. The goblin was rearing to slash the whip across your back again and you looked him in the eyes.

“Protecting you,” you whispered back. Your hand trailed over his cheek, damp with sweat, before reaching into his coat and grabbing one of his many hidden daggers.

Before the goblin could strike again, your blade was in his throat and he dropped the whip before the goblins could register what had happened.

“What?” The Goblin King was infuriated as goblins began falling at your hand, your battle skills having improved thanks to the Company’s lessons. “No! Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all! Cut off his head!”

Your back was in pain, but adrenalin got the better of you. The Dwarves sprung into action as you began fighting back, grabbing their weapons and attacking the goblin army who were caught off guard.

Then, a blinding light threw all of you down on the floor. You yelled at the pain as you landed on your back, but relief spread through you as you made out Gandalf’s figure approaching the group, staff and Glamdring in hand.

A hand grabbed you by the bicep and hauled you up to your feet. You were surprised to find Thorin getting you up and ushering you down the rickety bridges, following the Wizard as the lot of you sprinted for your lives.

-

Somehow, you were still alive. The blood had become crusty on your back and your head was spinning from flying so high in the air.

You remembered vaguely what had happened after Goblin town. Bilbo had come back, you all rejoiced at the sight. But Azog sent you all running up into the trees. Fili had held onto you like a lifeline as your loss of blood began weakening you even more. Your vision had blurred when the fires began.

You recalled Bilbo running to save Thorin, and then you were being supported by Bofur as Dwalin, Fili and Kili all jumped into battle to fight against the Wargs.

Then everything had gone dark. Until Gandalf brought you back.

“Now now, lass, we need to take a look at those wounds.”

You waved Oin away, leaning heavily against Fili. “No, not until we get off this rock.”

“You were brave,” Fili whispered softly at you. “You saved my life, but you’re in no state to climb down yet.”

“I’m fine, Fili.”

“No, you’re not,” Thorin spoke up. “Do as Oin says. We have no time to wait for your stubbornness.”

Despite his kind words to Bilbo not mere minutes ago, his attitude was once again harsh and crisp towards you. You saw Fili’s eyes harden and he gently lowered you to sit on the ground as he marched towards his uncle.

“Her stubbornness may have saved all our lives in those caves, Uncle,” Fili said defiantly. You blinked in surprise. His tone had lowered menacingly and he didn’t waver one bit.

“She has tried time and time again to meet your approval!” your love continued. “And yet, even on the brink of death, you still cannot bring yourself to take a liking to her?”

“Fili-,” Thorin began.

“She has done more for this Company than any of us! And for what?”

“Fili…”

“Erebor isn’t her home, and yet she still comes with us. She owes us no allegiance, and yet she still fights for us! She puts up with all the foul words you throw at her, right up to the moment where she could die, saving my skin! Why would she do any such things when you still treat her like vermin?”

“Because she loves you, Fili.”

Fili froze mid-rant. He tended to ramble when passionate about something, you remembered fondly. You stared as the King Under the Mountain looked past his nephew at you. You clambered to your feet as he came closer to meet him at his height.

“I am realizing many things, Y/N. I realize that Hobbits may be more stubborn than us Durinfolk, and that the dead still live.” He paused a moment and his eyes flickered to the ground. “And I also realize that I was wrong about your intentions with my nephew.”

Your ears couldn’t believe what they were hearing. You stared at Thorin, dumbfounded at his confessions.

“I apologize it took me so long,” he apologized! “and that it took a brave but foolish action on your behalf to make me see that, truly, the two of you were destined for each other.”

Fili had rejoined your side and your hand squeezed his tightly, both for support and in disbelief.

“What are you saying, Uncle?”

“I’m saying that I give my blessing to your courtship. Though I hardly think that would’ve stopped the two of you from getting married anyway.”

You grinned at that, because it probably was true. “Thank you, Thorin.”

You wanted to scream, celebrate and cry all at once, but you slumped against Fili in exhaustion. All your resources were almost spent. Fili wrapped an arm around you.

“Let’s get you fixed up, love,” he murmured before looking back up at Thorin. “But, Uncle, all the things you said. The traditions we’ve had, the expectations of me as crown prince…”

Thorin rested a hand on Fili’s shoulder and smiled. “Let me deal with that when the time comes, Fili. None will stand in the way of me and my family’s happiness. Even old laws and their rules.”

Fili smiled and tears formed in his eyes. The two Dwarves pressed their foreheads together for a moment before he picked you up in his arms and lead you to Oin and Gandalf, promising to take care of you from now on until the end.

-

So! I promised this third and final part a very, very, very long time ago, and many of you had asked for it back then. Then I disappeared and never looked at Tumblr for years, up until now. I’m beyond sorry for not writing for so long, and I hope I’ve made it up to you with this. Let me know what you think, or if you want to see me write more. Even after all these years I’ll always come back to Middle-Earth and their stories.

[evolutionsvoid]

Stories of monsters and hidden terrors can be found in any culture, for fear is known in every heart. They are whispered around fires that ward off the dark, or found clinging to our minds as we huddle beneath our blankets and comforts. Tales that grow to fill these unexplored lands and empty shadows, finding fear in what we do not understand. Every race and civilization has these stories, for people both above and below. Just as we tell cautionary tales to our children, the merfolk do the same to theirs. The vast ocean is an endless one, stretching onward into a cerulean void, or plunging forever into a maw of darkness. Though they call these waters home, there are still plenty of dangers to be found. The suffocating robes of a crimson hunter, the deceiving grin of a hungering viper, all of whom gladly prey upon the foolish. The young must be mindful of their surroundings and be wary to the words of their elders, lest these aquatic boogeymen drag them into the blinding depths. Do not swim far from the pod, keep out of the darkened waters and never delve into the caves alone. The sunken caverns and strange burrows tempt the curious and adventurous, but many who swim into these stony maws alone are devoured. It doesn't matter if they are deep or shallow, any crevice and corner can be a home for the Auger. The young must know of her trickery and traps, for she is a cunning predator. Though she is bloated with eggs and engorged with blood, one must not think she is easily avoided. Unable to swim, she slithers about and hides her swollen form within caves and darkened burrows. Coiling up her body, she vanishes into the shadows and ducks behind corners in wait for a victim. An inquisitive young one may blindly inspect these openings, perhaps hoping for a tasty critter or wondrous prize. It is then she strikes, launching her chitinous body forward and seizing her prey with her horrible claws. In a flash, she will have them and drag them into her home. No matter how hard one thrashes and fights, she shall keep them in a savage grip, all until she can get her first bite. From her maw comes a slithering tongue, which will seek out soft flesh to pierce. When stabbed by this vile appendage, all hope is lost. Her tongue spews forth branches of burrowing tendrils, spreading through the body like the thirsty roots of a parched tree. They seek veins to drink from, and she will use them to drain her victims to the very last drop. Once these tendrils have anchored, freeing oneself from her is nearly impossible and incredibly painful. Death shall come as she drinks her prey dry, leaving the husk for the scavengers. After preying on a few victims, she shall move on to new hunting grounds, leaving their crumbling bones as a symbol of her cruelty. Take note of these tales, young ones, or else your bones shall join them....         ----------------------------------------- As Mermay gets closer to the end, here is another perhaps maybe is technically a mermaid? Its got the arms and tail(?) and its an aquatic critter so that should work! I wanted to get weirder and change things up, so the critter I chose was the Anchor Worm (Lernaeocera branchialis), specifically the female. Since their adult stage is pretty much a slimy bag of eggs, I decided to make her a mix of her life stages, getting a bit of both worlds. Came out pretty alien, but I love the absurdity.

[milkygcf]

Tangerine Daydreams

Pairing | jhs x reader

Genre | Fantasy, fox hybrid!hoseok, fluff

Warnings | None

Summary | ❝ Perhaps life’s beauties aren't all about the giant trees and the way the moon shines down onto the waves of the sea. ❞

Word Count | 1k

Author’s Note | this is a commission for the lovely @but-flowers-are-pretty​ !! i hope you like it <3 also, thank you to @AND-DAS-ON-PERIODTT for beta-reading ❤ this was also part of the @ficswithluv​ project, ChangesWithLuv, that contributes to the black lives matter movement. for anyone who reads this, i highly suggest you give this project a look. you can see all about it here. thank you!

You’ve always had a knack for venturing out into the world with a deep longing to relish all the spectacular wonders life has to offer you. 

Countless times you’ve spent your days reading volumes about your next adventure to be able to understand and be one with your surroundings. You recall visiting the sea once, using your knowledge to tell just how hungry and relentless it was, hysterically exhaling its mist around the soles of your feet. 

This time, your next destination was simple and rather cozy. You’ve always wondered about the forest situated behind the exterior of your humble abode, although you’ve never quite interested yourself in it until as of late.

It seemed mystical and made you wonder about the ciphers it held within its core. The lanky trees that reached out towards the heavenly skies piqued curiosity in you. It was your priority to swerve through them and breathe in the crisp, raw air mother nature offers and let your senses drown into the delicacy of essentiality.

You bid your trusty companion - Yogurt, a sightless British shorthair - goodbye, letting your fingers ruffle softly through his fur. Then, your journey starts. 

The sight of the forest laid out before you seemed rather intimidating. You’ve been heeded with numerous tales about all the mysteries that occur within the timbers which frankly, didn’t do you justice at all. 

You notice the sudden change in atmosphere when you let yourself be embraced by the tales the wind whispered beneath the trees. The leaves underneath your weight create a tune that you instantly become accustomed to, leaving a trail of your journey. 

Your ears prick at the symphonious crooning of birds, greeting each other as they fluttered their feathers under the rays of the sun. They seemed rather lively, making a content smile blossom onto your lips. 

The aura, you deemed, was relatively fitting to let yourself indulge in the feel of it all. Just like that, you soak into your own little world as you wander between the trees, having no sense of direction but staying knowledgeable about your way back home. 

It’s until your attention catches on a lone tune resounding about a particular area deeper into the forest, seducing the creatures as they lean closer into the harmony. 

Your feet move without caution, letting themselves be free as they approach the sound longingly. You let yourself embrace the tune with deep admiration. It sounded something akin to that at the gates of firmament as cherubs waited delightedly for your arrival. This was seducing you, pulling you into its arms as you gladly let it. 

Besides the wondrous melody wafting through the forest, you could hear the faint, shallow noise of a stream nearby. It was coming from there, hauntingly dancing around your ears and luring you in slowly but surely. 

As your feet guide your body towards cryptic noise, you notice more forest creatures start to gather around, and that’s until your attention falls onto a blob of orange peeping out of a shrub. 

You raise an eyebrow, perplexed.

Obviously, someone had to be behind such beauty. And now more than ever your interest peeks. You need to know rather than want. You refused to go back home without meeting whoever made the forest seem so lively. 

So you approach cautiously, being careful not to disturb any of the animals sitting quietly and listening. Your eyes lay on a figure who was lazily splayed out beside the stream, a pretty tangerine tail swaying along with each note played. 

It doesn’t take long before the song comes to a stop, eliciting a sigh from the man. “What shall I play next, my dear friends?” He giggles out, twirling what seemed to be a wooden flute in between his fingers. 

“That was beautiful.” 

At the sound of your voice, the man jerks up with a gasp, his tail shooting up along with him. At this angle, you notice the little ears sitting atop of his locks. They blend in perfectly. 

“You- You heard that?” The stranger questions, startled as ever. He holds his prized possession close, fingers clutching its neck. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to be so lousy. I thought no one visited this forest anymore.” 

Really? You thought the place was rather wonderful not to visit. Quite a shame, if you say so yourself. 

“Lousy?” A friendly laugh tumbles out of your lips. “I thought that was delightful. You’re a brilliant musician.” 

Your eyes never fail to see the movements of his tail, how it wiggles cautiously yet with curiosity. Its fur glistens under the rays of the sun, bringing out the bright shade of orange that matches his hair perfectly. At this, you notice how he no longer seems so stiff, instead, he reaches his hand out towards you with a gentle smile tugging at his lips. 

Without any hesitation whatsoever, you shake his hand. Albeit him being a complete stranger, the aura running alongside him did him justice. So did his warm smile, which frankly, made your heart swell. 

“Jung Hoseok,” he tells you rather shyly, pink tinting his cheeks. 

“Y/N - it’s a pleasure to meet you, Hoseok.” 

That’s when a beautiful friendship blossomed. You forgot about exploring the forest, leaving it for another day. Instead, you sat beside Hoseok and listened to him play his flute with expertise, his tail teasing you every now and then whenever he catches your beam. 

You even share tangerines together as the forest creatures all gather around you to listen in to your conversation which consisted mostly of Hoseok sharing just how magnificent the forest was. 

Honestly, you weren’t really expecting events to turn out as such, but in no way do you wish that your day went differently. 

And as you sit beside Hoseok, fingers intertwined whilst you both tune in to the light singing of the stream, you tell yourself that perhaps life’s beauties aren't all about the giant trees and the way the moon shines down onto the waves of the sea.

They also come in the form of a tangerine tailed man, who you’ve come to know as Jung Hoseok.