#skull is baby

[jmbringitonworld]

Unexpected Benefits of Becoming a Swamp Witch (2)

AO3 link for those who prefer to read fics there

Chapter 1

Finally, here's the promised fluff!

At over 12k words, this is, by quite a bit, my longest ever chapter. If I wasn't so determined to have this be the final chapter, I definitely would've spilt it up, because this was a chore to get through. It feels like I've been writing this forever, and I've honestly gotten just a little bit sick of it by this point. I also think this chapter might've driven me just the tiniest bit insane, but that's fine. I'm just SO glad to have finally finished it!

I've got a cold right now, and my head hurts, so I'm not sure exactly how I feel about this chapter. But I'm pretty sure that if my head were clearer, I'd be incredibly proud of what I've managed to get out. This was a lot of hard work, and, personally, I feel like it's paid of. Of course, you, the reader, are perfectly entitled to feel differently. I'll leave it up to you to decide, but I hope that this chapter was worth the wait, and that you enjoy it.

Skull and Forest God Au belong to @llamagoddessofficial

__________________________________________

Chapter 2: Living with the Consequences

I was wrong. Very wrong.

His interest in me did not, in fact, diminish in the following days, months, or even years. Quite the contrary – his feelings for me only grew, exponentially, over time.

And slowly, subtly, surprisingly... so did mine.

~~~

It was getting late, and my two familiars had left to go hunting, so I decided to put off all thoughts of the infatuated Wetland God, and what I would do about him, ‘til the next day. The tree hollow wasn’t the most luxurious of bedrooms, but it was cushioned on all sides by an abundance of pillows and blankets, so I would at least be comfortable and warm throughout the night. Besides, I’d slept in rougher spots than this during my travels, and I had honestly been expecting far worse for my first few weeks here, until I could build my own witch’s cottage.

Trying to ignore Skull’s besotted expression, I turned my back to him and dug through my satchel, searching for some rations I’d packed for my dinner. My hands fell upon a large, wrapped package, still warm and smelling strongly of honey. I gave a start, as I recalled the honey cake I’d baked, as an offering to the Wetland God. With all the excitement and confusion of the day, I’d completely forgotten to give it to him.

Daring a peek over my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Skull’s red eyelight, shining brightly in the growing gloom of the evening, its pupil still heart-shaped. His mouth was stretched in a wide smile, soft and sappy, in spite of the wickedly-sharp teeth lining his jaws.

I looked back at the cake, feeling that crimson gaze continuing to burn a hole in my back. If I gave Skull the cake now, he might take it as a sign of my ‘affections’. My brows furrowed, indecision gripping my mind. It wouldn’t do to encourage the deity’s attention, flattering though it may be. But still...

I chanced another glance at him. He was still staring at me, adoration written all across his skull and radiating from his magic. His face brightened when he noticed my gaze, his magic buzzing excitedly in the air. I hastily looked away.

He’d definitely be happy to receive my offering. I pursed my lips, as I imagined the joyful expression he’d likely make, how much more electrified his magic would become. Given the horror stories I’d been told by the townsfolk, I was certain that Skull hadn’t received an offering in years, if not centuries. He really would be happy if I were to give him one now.

I sighed heavily, my shoulders falling, before I drew myself back up, my face set with determination. Skull had shown me nothing but kindness since I arrived in his domain. The very least I could do, was to show him a bit of kindness in return, and give him the cake that I’d already baked for him. Firming my resolve, I grabbed the honey cake with both hands and marched straight toward him.

Skull shifted from foot to foot as I approached him, looking for all the world like a gigantic, skeletal puppy, eager for his owner’s attention. I cleared my throat and held out the cake, uncovering it to show him what I’d brought him.

“I baked this for you, Skull, as an offering. It’s a honey cake. I hope it pleases you.” I offered him a polite smile, showing none of the doubts plaguing my thoughts, and braced myself for what I assumed would be an overzealous reaction, given how he’d acted so far.

But I received no such reaction. In fact, I hardly received any reaction at all.

Skull stared at my cake with a strangely blank look, the widening of his eyelight being the only indication of the shock he seemed to be experiencing. His mouth opened, but after a few seconds without a word being said, it closed again, only to reopen several heartbeats later.

After a minute of watching Skull’s muted gawking at my cake, I could stand the awkward silence no longer. “What’s wrong? Do-... do you not like the cake?”

That finally got a reaction, as Skull’s head snapped toward me. “NO!... no... i... i... i love it... so much... it... thank you... i... thank... you...”

Then, to my utter horror, large tears started gathering along the corners of Skull’s eye sockets, eventually tipping over and dripping down his skull. Panic clawed at my chest, as the God of the Wetland continued to cry, a low, keening whine filling the air.

I shifted the cake to one arm, and used the other to stroke Skull’s wet muzzle. “There, there...” I murmured to him, as comfortingly as I could, with only the slightest edge of panic to my voice. “Oh dear, please don’t cry, sweetheart...! It’s all right, there’s no need for tears. Please, Skull, eat this cake. I baked it especially for you!”

I held the cake out once more, a pleading smile on my face. Skull’s tears finally seemed to slow down, although they didn’t stop completely. He sniffed loudly, then nudged me, very gently, with the tip of his snout.

“i can’t... eat this... it’s a... gift... from you... it’s too... precious... to eat... i will... cherish it... forever...” he insisted, voice as wobbly as his red eyelight.

I huffed a sigh. “It’s a cake. It’s meant to be eaten! That’s why I baked it.” I barely held back an eyeroll, exasperation leaking into my voice.

However, Skull refused to budge. The tears still steadily falling down his skull didn’t seem like they’d stop any time soon, so out of desperation, I finally told him, “Fine! I’ll bake you more cakes! If you eat this one and cheer up, then I will definitely bake you all the honey cakes you want in the future. Okay? Please?”

That seemed to give him pause. Skull stood in silence for a few seconds, contemplating my offer, before he finally nodded his head. “all... right... if that’s what... you want... and if you’ll... give me... more... you will... give me more... right...?”

I instantly nodded to him. “Absolutely! Lots more cake, just for you! And anything else you want me to cook for you!”

In hindsight, that was probably a reckless vow to make, one that could easily be taken advantage of. Still, Skull seemed satisfied, and his weeping finally ceased. He opened his mouth wide and looked at me expectantly. Getting the message, I tossed the entire cake into Skull’s gaping maw, and watched it snap shut. I neither saw nor heard any chewing, but the Wetland God made several appreciative sounds, which soon devolved into more purring.

Crisis averted, I sighed, my shoulders sagging. I’d come dangerously close to making a promise I wasn’t fully certain I’d be able to keep, and I’d probably only reinforced Skull’s troublesome expectations of me and our relationship. I was really beginning to regret offering that stupid cake to him.

And yet... as Skull continued to purr, his magic humming in contentment, I couldn’t deny the warmth blooming in my chest. An involuntary smile curled onto my face, at the deity’s blissful expression. As I’d expected, he definitely was happy to receive my offering.

~~~

The next morning, I awoke to the beautiful singing of songbirds. Snuggled in warm blankets and soft pillows, I yawned, languidly stretching out my body. Feeling refreshed and well rested, I opened my eyes, ready to greet the new day.

And was greeted, instead, by Skull’s massive head, staring at me from the hollow’s entrance, his single ruby eyelight fixed unblinkingly on my face.

I suppressed a flinch, as memories of the previous day came flooding back to me. Right. I had yet another admirer to deal with. One I couldn’t dismiss as easily as I could all of the previous ones. Forcing away the urge to bury my head beneath my blanket and go right back to sleep, I dragged myself out of my cosy nest and got up.

Skull perked up, leaning his head toward me to nuzzle me, with a gentleness belying his tremendous size. The glow of his red eyelight softened, beginning to shimmer, the pupil once again becoming heart-shaped.

Reflexively, I reached out to pet his muzzle, receiving a purr in return. I probably shouldn’t have been indulging the Wetland God like this, but something about his earnest desire for my affection was too endearing for me to resist. Skull let out several cute little chirps, in between his constant purring, and unable to help myself, I leaned forward to wrap my arms around his wide snout as best as I could. The purring only intensified at the hug.

“Good morning, Skull,” I mumbled against his bones. I didn’t ask him whether he’d been stood there, staring at me all night, just silently watching me sleep. I was afraid of the answer.

“yes... it is!... such a... very... very good... morning... with you... here with me...” he rumbled back, his deep, gravelly voice managing to sound incredibly tender, and full of joy. “i’ve been... all alone... for so... so long... but not... anymore... not now that... i have you...” He beamed at me, his eyelight practically sparkling in its socket. “i’m so... happy... i love you... so much... my wife... my mate... my love...”

He sounded so sincere, so genuine, as he spoke of his ‘love’ for me, that I couldn’t prevent heat from spreading across my cheeks. I pressed my face to Skull’s, trying to hide the flush in my cheeks, feeling more embarrassed than I had in a very long time. I’d never blushed before, like some shy, simpering girl-child. It was undignified. Mortifying. And utterly unbecoming of a powerful sorceress.

Stepping away from Skull, I turned my back to him and cast my eyes all around me for something to focus on, beside the sad, pitiful whine of a lovesick Forest God. However, there was nothing to see in the tree hollow, except for the piles of blankets and pillows, and the various little human trinkets strewn about the place. This simple den was also unbefitting of a powerful sorceress.

Mind made up, I faced Skull again, and announced my intentions. “Skull, while your nest is very, uh, charming, it’s too small and basic for a witch like me to live and work in. I need a proper home. Would you happen to know of a spot where I may construct for myself a witch’s cottage?”

The Wetland God didn’t look too happy with my request. He fidgeted, pawing lightly at the thick tree roots, eyelight dimming, and let out an anxious-sounding whine. “but... nest is... for mate... you can’t go... somewhere else... mate must... stay in... our nest...!”

His fidgeting got worse, and a few of the flowers on his legs and horns wilted. I bit my lip, unsure how to convince him to let me leave, without him getting too upset. Forest Gods were creatures of instinct, first and foremost, and the last thing I wanted was to trigger Skull’s more possessive instincts. Suddenly, he lifted his head, his eyelight shining brightly with hope.

“i can... make nest... better...for you...!” he eagerly proposed. “i can... make it bigger... can change it... for you...!”

I hesitated, feeling sceptical about his idea, uncertain whether his magic was stable enough for such complicated alterations to the giant tree, but his pleading expression was hard to deny. With a resigned sigh, I nodded my head.

“Very well, I accept your offer,” I conceded, to which he beamed at me, his eyelight almost glittering within his eye socket. “I’ll assist you with my own magic, of course. Together, we should hopefully be able to fashion a suitable house out of this tree.”

 I tried to inject as much confidence into my voice as I could, if only to dispel my own doubts. Skull looked excited and relieved, shifting his considerable weight from foot to foot, his large head swaying slightly.

“yes...! together...!” he agreed, very enthusiastically.

Then, tossing his head back, Skull let out an ear-splittingly loud bellow, shaking the ground and the trees with the force of his roar, and causing the water to ripple outwards. I covered my ears, shrinking back and away from him.

The Wetland God’s magical aura spread out from him, filling the air, and coating the surrounding area, concentrating on the giant tree in particular. As the ancient and powerful Nature Magic seeped into the tree, it started growing, its branches lengthening and its trunk thickening, the hollow expanding along with it.

I retreated to Skull’s side, to observe the transformation. It wasn’t... exactly what I was hoping for... But it was a start. Filled with determination, I sent out my own magic, entwining it very carefully with Skull’s, and guided his wild magic to where I needed it to go. Skull’s magic responded eagerly, if clumsily, to my direction, and together, we slowly shaped the tree into a form more suitable for my needs.

I smiled to myself. Yes, Skull and I would be able to make this tree into a home. Together.

And over the next several days, we set about doing just that.

It took a lot of time, work, and dedication, but the two of us devoted ourselves completely to the lengthy and arduous task of transforming the giant tree into a treehouse (or rather, a tree-cottage). At the end of the day, I was often magically drained, both from having to guide Skull’s chaotic and untamed magic, and from having to cast various spells for the more delicate and finicky adjustments, as well as physically exhausted, from the manual jobs that magic could not accomplish. But I was also incredibly proud of our achievement.

We were making steady progress, and I knew that soon, much sooner than I had anticipated, I would have my forever home.

~~~

A cottage was not all that I required, however. At my request, Skull raised a sizeable chunk of land above the water, beside the den, to serve as my garden. The soil there was fertile and saturated in potent Nature Magic, so anything that was planted in it was sure to thrive. On top of the usual fruits and vegetables, I’d also planted various flowers and herbs for potion-making.

Additionally, Skull kept encouraging moths, bees, and other pollinators to visit my garden. The bees, in particular, gave me an idea of how I could express my gratitude to the Wetland God, for all of his invaluable help. It took me most of an afternoon, but I managed to craft a large, wooden apiary. Then, I used an insect charm to lure a queen honey bee into settling inside it.

After a few of days, and many enchantments, I had a rapidly growing colony of bees, to help pollinate my garden, and to produce honey, which I then used to bake cakes and other sweet treats for Skull. I had told him that I would bake him more honey cakes, after all. Thankfully, his reactions to my offerings weren’t as alarming as his first one, even if he was no less delighted, each time I gave him one. Moreover, I also discovered that the Wetland God was especially fond of warm, freshly-baked bread, soaked in honey.

Occasionally, though, I’d come across a flower in my garden which I was certain I hadn’t planted myself. They were always vibrantly colourful, but were otherwise completely useless to me and had no beneficial properties whatsoever. It seemed obvious to me that Skull had grown them, likely as an attempt to please me. While I did appreciate his thoughtfulness, I didn’t want useless flowers taking up room in my garden, so I removed them each time I spotted one.

Nevertheless, I didn’t have the heart to just toss away Skull’s gifts. I could only too easily picture the look of heartbreak he’d give me, and it made my chest ache, for reasons I couldn’t explain. It was frustrating, and almost made me want to throw away the flowers, just to spite the feeling. However, I merely put Skull’s flowers in one of my taller chalices, one made out of clear crystal. I placed the makeshift flower vase by one of the windows I’d recently installed in the side of the tree, and it made for an aesthetically pleasing sight, if nothing else.

It didn’t take long for me to run out of space for the flowers, though, and I had to get a little creative about where to stuff anymore I kept finding. I was sorely tempted to ask Skull to stop growing flowers I didn’t want in my garden, but the thought of his disappointed expression made me hold my tongue. It was just a minor inconvenience, anyhow, and certainly not worth complaining to an Old God about, especially not one as emotional as Skull.

One day, however, one of Skull’s flowers did manage to catch my eye. It was a rare blossom, and toxic if consumed, but its pollen was used in many regenerative potions, so I decided to let it stay in my garden. I even gathered some of its seeds, to grow more of this valuable specimen. Skull had evidently noticed my interest in this particular flower, as the next morning, I found more of them growing in my garden.

From then on, each time I showed any interest in a specific flower, by the following day, more of them would have appeared. This then extended to any herbs or fungi I found in the swamp, and brought home with me. Furthermore, whenever I caught an insect or other small critter for my potions, or collected ingredients from the local wildlife, such as those alligator teeth I’d been eyeing that first day, I’d come across even more of them afterwards, as I explored the swamp.

Skull was clearly always paying attention to me, and his attentiveness warmed my heart more than I cared to admit. And he was never overt or demonstrative with these gifts, either. While he was very open about his feelings for me, and never hesitated to declare his love for me or to nuzzle me, calling me his “wife” and “mate”, his gifts to me were always subtle, and he never drew attention to them, as if he were shy about giving them to me directly.

And I never thanked him openly, either. Despite appreciating his gifts more than I ever had anyone else’s, the thought of expressing my gratitude to him so plainly, so sincerely, left me feeling a little too... vulnerable. So instead, I baked him more cakes. And biscuits. And pies. And whatever else I thought he might enjoy.

And each time I would give them to him, he’d have the most heartfelt look of joy and wonder on his face, in spite of his lack of facial muscles, and his magic would thrum so happily, so excitedly, that it felt like an even greater gift than all of the flowers in my garden.

~~~

The plants and other potions ingredients weren’t the only present Skull would leave for me, however.

The Wetland God kept coaxing pretty insects and colourful birds to the area around my home. While Artemis enjoyed playing with the insects, especially the dragonflies, much to their distress, Hermes didn’t take kindly to the other birds showing off on what he now considered his territory, and never failed to chase them all away the moment he spotted one.

Skull seemed more than a little downhearted about that. But he never complained, or tried to stop my familiars, and instead, kept attracting more visually appealing wildlife to my home, in the hopes that I would appreciate them. Well, I appreciated the effort, at least. For being such a fearsome and often violent Forest God, who had killed countless humans in the past several centuries, he could be surprisingly sweet.

Besides his other, natural gifts, Skull also started leaving me shiny trinkets and glittering jewellery. I was initially baffled as to where he could’ve possibly gotten these man-made objects from, before discovering the answer from one such present.

One of the rings was especially ornate, with a large, glimmering gemstone in the centre, surrounded by smaller, clear jewels, which I presumed to be diamonds. More interestingly, though, I noticed that it bore an inscription on the inside, which read “To R, with everlasting love, C”. I realised, then, that Skull had taken all of these items off of the intruders he’d drowned in the bog.

I shrugged, and tied a string to the ring, hanging it up from a nearby branch, where it caught the sunlight and sparkled magnificently. Waste not, want not, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like these items’ original owners would need their things anymore.

Skull looked pleased, when he noticed that I’d made use of his gift. I found more jewellery the next day. It took a while to wash off the mud and tar still stuck to them, but they made very beautiful decorations for my new home.

~~~

One thing I couldn’t help but notice, regarding Skull, was that throughout my time in the swamp, I’d often spot him conversing with alligators, or various marsh birds. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, obviously, and it left me intrigued.

Hermes was the one to enlighten me, when I voiced my curiosity. He’s asking them for advice. On how to woo you.

Well that was a surprise.

And also... rather adorable.

Sitting on the lip of wood at the entrance to my home, I glanced over at Skull. He seemed to be watching very intently, as a heron cawed loudly at him, spreading its wings and extending its neck, displaying its plumage, and snapping its bill rather aggressively. I stifled a laugh as Skull proceeded to rip a branch off of a nearby tree, and presented it to the heron, who then nodded at him, apparently deeming the Wetland God’s efforts satisfactory.

I shook my head, unable to keep the smile off of my face, as fondness settled itself in my heart. He really was adorable, sometimes.

Still smiling, I turned to my familiars. “Has Skull ever come to you two for help, or advice on how to, heh, win my heart?” I asked them, although internally, I suspected I already knew the answer. As well as exactly how much help Skull would’ve received from them.

Hermes bristled his feathers. He has. I refused. I would never betray Mistress’s secrets.

Artemis didn’t even bother to look up, as she groomed herself meticulously. He did... I ignored him...

I snorted, my smile turning wry. Just as I thought. No help whatsoever.

But then I paused, as a curious thought came to me. What would it take to win my heart? Countless people had tried, for most of my life, all without success. Not a single person had come even close to earning my affections. I knew, then, what didn’t work. But I’d never given a thought as to what would.

My brows furrowed, as it suddenly hit me that I had no idea what would make me fall in love with someone, no idea what would be able to finally melt the walls of ice I’d erected around my heart.

A shadow suddenly fell over me and I looked up.

Skull was standing in front of me, just outside the entrance (thankfully, without the tree branch, stars knew what I would do with it). I was getting much better at reading his expressions, and I could tell that he looked troubled. His magical aura was tinged with want and frustration and worry.

I reached up to pet his snout, dragging my nails gently along hard bone, and he calmed down immediately, his magic settling into a pleasant hum. “What’s wrong, Skull?”

The giant creature let out a low, unhappy sound, and pressed his nose into my touch. “want to hold you... want to hug you... want to cuddle... soft wife... but can’t... like this... too big... might hurt you...”

I wanted to coo at him, because that was so cute, and so like him, but I managed to restrain myself. Instead, I gave him a commiserating smile and pet him harder. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You are just a bit too big for cuddles, I’m afraid.”

His face fell and, unable to resist the urge, I leaned forward to place a kiss to the end of his snout.

His red eyelight lit up like a bonfire and his magic buzzed. The tension in his gaze intensified considerably, and he seemed to be focusing very hard on something. I could sense his magic condensing, his vast, powerful aura compressing and compacting in on itself. I gave a start, as Skull’s form shimmered, and then gradually began to shrink and mutate.

When everything had settled, Skull stood before me, not as a gigantic, monstrous Wetland God, but as something a lot smaller, and lot more... humanoid.

I gazed in awe at Skull’s new form.

His magic was too unstable for him to assume a fully human form, so instead, he appeared to be a huge, hulking, humanoid skeleton. His bones sported many chips and cracks, including a particularly big, jagged hole on top of his skull, a testament to his damaged psyche, but he was still altogether whole, and in one single, solid piece. The clothes he wore were ripped and ragged, their colour faded, but looked very soft, and even a little fluffy.

Skull’s expression was strained, his stance awkward, but the smile he gave me was tentatively hopeful. “it’s... hard... for me to... contain... my magic... in such a... small body... but now i can... hug you... please?... wife??”

There was nothing I could say to such an earnest request, besides, “Of course you can, dear.”

His expression brightened immensely, his entire body practically lighting up with joy, and I spread my arms invitingly. “Come here, Skull.”

Without wasting a single second, he stumbled towards me and wrapped his big arms around me, drawing me close to his broad chest and nuzzling the top of my head. Despite being much smaller than before, he still easily dwarfed me, and I was almost smothered by his hug. Still, I couldn’t find it in me to complain, or pull away.

His embrace was tight, and so very new and unfamiliar to me, but it was surprisingly gentle, and warm, and soft. Pressed up against him like this, I felt small, and delicate, but so, so precious.

With his magic brushing against me, radiating tenderness and affection, his rumbling purrs vibrating through me, and his strong, solid body all around me, I felt myself relax, leaning back into his hold. I practically melted in Skull’s arms, a delicious warmth seeping into my heart.

I felt so cherished, so loved. It was a wonderful feeling. One I never wanted to let go off.

~~~

Eventually, all of mine and Skull’s hard work paid off, and my tree-cottage was finally completed.

The original hollow had been expanded into a spacious, circular living room, complete with a fully-functional kitchen and dining area. Some stairs along the wall led to a second floor, which I’d designated as my study, and my potion-brewing space. The walls were all fully lined with shelves, completely taken up by either potion ingredients, magical instruments, or ancient tomes, as were the many desks and tables spread out wherever possible. A massive cauldron took pride of place in the centre. Another set of stairs was squeezed in amongst all of the magical paraphernalia, leading up to my bedroom, which also served as my observatory.

All in all, I was extremely satisfied with what the both of us had managed to accomplish, in such a short amount of time.

To celebrate, I baked another honey cake. Skull enjoyed the cake, while I enjoyed having a proper home, at long last. Even my familiars were pleased with our new living quarters.

It finally felt like the beginning of a promising, peaceful new life, the kind I’d always been longing for. And, for the first time since I’d stepped foot in the wetlands, I could finally say with complete confidence that I’d made the right choice, all along.

I was... hopeful. And... happy. Skull was happy, too.

The future was looking bright.

~~~

Now that I’d fully settled into life in the swamp, and completed construction on my tree-cottage, I decided it was time I got myself officially registered with the local Mage’s Guild, so that I could begin accepting clients and contracts again. A witch needed to earn a living after all, and I was getting bored and restless, without anything pressing to do.

Skull was predictably upset about my leaving, but I’d managed to convince him that it was important to me, and, after many, many reassurances that no, I wasn’t leaving him forever, and yes, I would definitely return to him, the clingy deity finally relented and allowed me to leave.

He still kept begging me to reconsider, though. I hadn’t thought a dog skull could look that sad and pitiful, but Skull always managed to surprise me, in the most unexpected ways. Truthfully, it was almost enough to make me give in to his pleas, but I firmed my resolve and pushed on.

The Old God escorted me out of his wetland, moping the entire way, and howled miserably when I finally stepped outside of his territory, and flew off into the horizon on my broom. His mournful wails followed me for a long time.

~~~

The headquarters of the Mage’s Guild were, naturally, within an ancient and massive castle, centred around a tall and imposing Sorcerer’s Tower. The accumulated, residual magic of generations upon generations of sorcerers saturated the entire area, sinking into the ground, and seeping into the rune-covered stone walls of the castle. You could practically taste the magic in the air.

It was a heady feeling, being in such a remarkable place.

Given what an eminent witch my mother had been, I was instantly welcomed into the Guild, and directed to go present myself officially to the Guild’s Master, while my familiars were taken to be registered in the Magical Menagerie.

The Guildmaster was a mage of very few words, and shrouded in mystery. They were widely regarded as being a sorcerer of considerable skill and power, second only to my late mother, and had quickly risen to the top of the Guild within only a handful of years. While their achievements were universally acclaimed, precious little was known about them personally, beyond the fact that they’d forsaken much in their pursuit of arcane and esoteric knowledge.

Even their own name.

They were also the only human, in the entire world, whom I respected, and even admired.

~~~

My registration was completed swiftly and efficiently, as was expected of someone as competent as the Guildmaster. They spoke coolly, and without inflection in their voice, as they questioned me on my magical abilities and specific talents. That, coupled with their calm, impassive demeanour, gave very little away regarding their thoughts.

It was honestly a bit intimidating, being in their presence.

But also, incredibly fascinating.

When the interview came to an end, I stared pensively at them, as they gathered all of their materials, with precise, economical movements.

“Have you ever been in love?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

I bit my lip, shocked at myself. What had possessed me to ask the Guildmaster such a personal question? And why on the subject of love, of all things?

The slight widening of their eyes, and the stuttering of their movements, were the only indications that the Guildmaster had heard me. They carried on with their task, as before, putting away all of their things in various trunks and desk drawers. As always, their inscrutable countenance, and deep, impenetrable eyes, gave nothing away.

The silence stretched on, until it got very uncomfortable, and just as I was about to open my mouth to apologise and change the subject, the Guildmaster finally gave me an answer. And it wasn’t the one I’d been expecting.

“Once. Briefly. Years ago,” they revealed, their voice as emotionless as ever, despite the subject matter. “But we had... differing priorities. So we parted ways.”

To say that that came as a surprise to me would be an understatement. The Guildmaster was well-known as an individual singularly focused on the pursuit of knowledge, who cared very little for anything not relating to their magical studies. They’d discarded all earthly attachments, and had immersed themself so fully in their research and their craft, that it was rumoured that they were now more magical spirit, than flesh-and-blood human.

Moreover, mages were solitary people by nature, generally choosing to remain isolated from the mundane for our own safety, and only coming together with fellow sorcerers to conduct trade, or to exchange knowledge we deemed important enough to share with the wider world. We otherwise kept mostly to ourselves, passing on our craft and family magics from mother to daughter, or from father to son.

I would never have guessed that one of the most mysterious and reclusive sorcerers in the world, would have ever sought companionship, let alone love. I honestly thought they were beyond such needs, or desires. Although, it seemed that, in the end, they were.

“Do you... ever regret it?... Any of it?” I couldn’t help but ask the Guildmaster, my voice quiet and unusually hesitant.

For a split second, I could’ve sworn I saw a brief flash of emotion flit across their face, but it was gone before I could be sure. I dismissed the thought. It was probably nothing more than a figment of my imagination.

“Regrets are pointless,” they affirmed, voice even as ever. “To dwell on the past, is to squander the present, and to sacrifice the future.”

They fell silent, and I thought our discussion over. But suddenly, they turned to me and fixed me with an oddly serious, and meaningful stare. “Which is why, no matter what you do, no matter what you choose, above all else, make sure that you do not regret your decisions.”

Unable to do anything else, I nodded. Seemingly satisfied with my response, they turned away, and the conversation ended there.

~~~

With all of my business with the Guild concluded, I prepared to take my leave, anxious to return home again. New witch’s licence in hand, I went to collect my two familiars from the Menagerie, and then retrieved my broom. Just before departing, however, the Guildmaster themself came to see me off.

“I am glad for the chance to have met you,” they told me, catching me off guard. I truly hadn’t thought that they would care about my presence here, one way or another. I still didn’t have quite the same reputation my mother had, after all. “You look well. And you seem happy. Good. It is what your mother would have wanted.”

And with those final, perplexing words, the Guildmaster disappeared back into the central Tower. I stared after them for a while, unsure what to think about our bizarre interaction, before I shook my head, banishing the encounter from my mind, and sat myself on my broomstick. Once Artemis was snuggled safely in my bag, and Hermes was securely perched on my hat, I then rushed us home, as fast as my broom could carry us.

I had a lonely husband to return to.

When I finally reached the Wetland, I kept flying, eager to get back to my home as quickly as possible. As I soared over the wetlands, though, I saw that most of the greenery had withered, and much of the landscape had been taken over by bog once more. Not a single flower remained. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest, at seeing how much my presence had clearly been missed.

Skull was there to greet me, before I had even made it to our tree-cottage nest. He called out to me, a sharp, high keen, his magic filled with excitement and overwhelming relief. I descended at once, and hoped off my broom, landing right on top of his massive head. Without pause, I immediately crouched down and threw my arms around him, pressing my lips to his skull in a firm kiss.

The air crackled and sparked with his magic, like electricity, sending tingles down my spine. Tiny flowers bloomed across Skull’s antlers, along his legs, and on the trees all around us.

“never... leave me... again...” he begged me, his voice trembling with emotion. “please... please don’t... ever leave me... alone... please... promise me that... you won’t... please...”

There were a million things I could say to that. But, for the first time in my life, I listened to my heart. “I won’t, Skull. I promise.”

His answering smile was all I needed, to know that this was one decision that I definitely would not regret.

~~~

There was one last, major decision left for me to make. A decision that would change my life more than any other I’d ever made. A decision that I could not afford to regret.

With a steaming cup of herbal tea in hand, I took a seat in front of the largest table in my study, and observed the ruby-red stone sat upon it with a critical eye. It was a rather innocuous-looking rock, about the size of my fist, transparent and glass-like, and coloured a deep, dark red. The average, non-magical human would probably assume it was nothing more than a hunk of coloured glass. But anyone with any magical ability whatsoever would be able to tell, at a glance, exactly what this stone was, and just how precious it truly was.

This was a Philosopher’s Stone.

A stone capable of transmuting base metals into gold, and which could produce the Elixir of Life, a mystical, miraculous potion able to cure any illness, heal any injury, and which could grant the drinker eternal life and youth.

It was, perhaps, my mother’s greatest achievement, or, at least, one of them, and was certainly her Magnum Opus as an alchemist. She’d dedicated years of her life to creating this legendary artefact, and when she’d finally succeeded, it had earned her untold fame within the magical community, since previously, only three other people had ever managed to create one. Mother had even gone on to share many of her findings with the scholars and researchers at the Mage’s Guild, in the hopes of furthering magekind’s understanding of alchemy, and its vast and innumerable possibilities.

She’d taken the Stone with her when she’d left the Guild, to go live a quiet life in an enchanted forest, after becoming pregnant with me, and I’d inherited it when she’d passed away. Neither of us had ever used it, though. We’d both been competent enough witches to accomplish all that we wanted to, without it. Mother hadn’t created the Philosopher’s Stone out of any great need or desire for its incredible properties. She’d simply done it to prove that she could.

But now, I did have a use for it.

A noise from outside drew my attention to one of the windows. With one last glance to the Stone, I tore my eyes away from it, and stood up. My feet carried me over to the window, and I looked outside, my lips automatically tilting up into a smile at the sight below.

Skull was returning from his patrol of the outer edges of his territory, and the swamp’s residents were welcoming him back. Hermes was hovering above him, having accompanied him on his patrol, but when my avian familiar spotted me, he gave a sharp cry to the Wetland God, before flying towards me. I hastily opened the window, just in time for Hermes to swoop in. He circled the room a few times, before finally landing atop one of the bookshelves.

Looking out the window again, I saw that Skull had noticed me as well. His happy expression was plain to see, even from this distance, so I waved to him. He called back to me, his deep, powerful voice making the water ripple, the leaves tremble, and my heart shudder in my chest. I gave him another wave, and a smile, before retreating, back to the Philosopher’s Stone.

I still had a decision to make.

Much had changed since I’d first stepped foot in the wetlands. I now had a home, a proper witch’s cottage to call my own, and I even got on fairly well with all of my new furry, feathery, and scaly neighbours, mostly thanks to Skull’s influence. All in all, I’d settled into life in the swamp far better than I’d ever dared hope for. This place was my home, and I never wanted to leave here.

Even my familiars had settled surprisingly well into their new life in the swamp. While Hermes still chased away any birds who dared venture too close to our home, he’d come to accept Skull as my mate, and even joined the Wetland God on his patrols. I’d often see the tan owl flying beside Skull, or perching himself on the deity’s huge horns.

Artemis, on the other hand, still hadn’t warmed up to Skull, and was content to simply ignore him most of the time. I’d assured a dejected Skull that it wasn’t anything personal, and that the black cat was just very independent, and preferred to keep to herself. Heck, she still wasn’t overly friendly with me, her master.

My feline familiar had finally grown to like the wetlands, however. When she was not curled up on a pillow at home, Missy was often out wandering the swamp, exploring her new territory, usually on the back of whatever poor alligator she’d somehow managed to bully into giving her a ride. While the humans were terrified of the God of the Black Wetland, it was my own black cat whom those actually living in the wetland had grown to fear.

But by far the most significant change, was my relationship with Skull.

I’d originally believed that Skull’s feelings for me were nothing more than a temporary infatuation, brought on solely by his crushing loneliness, and his desperate desire for companionship and love. The deity had been all alone, for centuries, after all. It was no wonder he’d gotten so attached to me, so quickly. But I’d assumed that once the novelty of my presence had worn off, his feelings for me would fade away and disappear.

But I had eventually realised how wrong I was.

The gigantic God of the Wetland had only grown more affectionate towards me over time, which was saying something, considering how obsessively he doted on me ever since we met. He was caring, attentive, thoughtful, and the most devoted creature imaginable. His love for me was evident in every action he took for me, every word he said to me, and every look he gave me. All of my doubts as to the sincerity of his feelings for me had long since vanished, in the face of his unwavering devotion to me. I was loved, and I knew it.

As for my own feelings towards him... they’d evolved, in ways I could not have anticipated. I’d grown to appreciate Skull, and all that he did for me, and cherished his fondness for me. I... cared for him... more than I ever thought possible. More than I ever thought I was even capable of, in all honesty. He made me feel things I never thought I could – warm things, gentle things, tender, soft things. Emotions both terrible and wonderful.

Without my realising, Skull had managed to sneak his way into my heart, and had made it his own.

Heavy footsteps from the floor below alerted me to my guest. I abandoned my musings, and made my way to the ground floor of my home, to go greet my husband.

Skull had once again taken his smaller, humanoid skeleton form, despite how difficult it was for him to maintain, so that he could enter my home safely. He was clearly here for more cuddles. And I was more than happy to oblige him.

As soon as Skull caught sight of me, his face lit up and he beamed at me. His movements awkward, and clumsy, in such an uncomfortable body, he stumbled towards me, arms wide open to receive me. I met him halfway, all but throwing myself into his embrace. Skull’s strong, thick arms encircled me, drawing my close, and pressing me tightly to his clothed rib cage. I wrapped my own arms around him, and smiled up at him.

“Welcome back, dear,” I greeted him, in a warm, tender voice I reserved just for him.

Skull’s already wide smile widened further, his single red eyelight shining brightly. He leaned his head down to nuzzle his face into my hair, low, rumbling purrs echoing from deep inside his chest.

“i... missed you... wife...” he mumbled into my hair, so close to my ear it sent pleasant shivers down my spine.

“I missed you too, husband,” I murmured back, removing one arm from around him, to raise it up to Skull’s face. I placed my hand on his cheekbone, my thumb rubbing gentle circles on his hard bones, and Skull eagerly leaned into my touch.

“you’re so... soft... and warm... and perfect... you smell... so nice... i love you...” he purred into my hand, the pupil of his eyelight becoming heart-shaped with adoration.

My smile softened, an impossibly tender feeling warming my heart, and spreading throughout my chest.

“I love you, too,” I whispered to him, and before he could react, I pulled his head down towards mine, leaning my own face up in tandem, and pressed my lips to his.

Skull froze, his entire body going still and rigid, before his arms tightened around me. Sharp phalanges dug into my skin, almost to the point of pain, but the skeletal deity managed to restrain himself just enough to avoid harming me. With a fierceness that took my breath away, Skull deepened our kiss, his mouth moving against mine with a passion I hadn’t known he was capable of. Small, colourful flowers bloomed all across his body, covering up every crack and every hole scarring his bones, and even filling up the large one on his skull.

As I closed my eyes, and surrendered myself to the emotions swelling within my chest, and the love in Skull’s kiss, I knew that I’d already made my decision. And that I wouldn’t regret it.

I had promised Skull that I would never leave him, after all.

~~~

Time passed, as it always did. But since it no longer affected me, I paid it no mind, and focused instead, on the joy of living.

My life now was peaceful, blissful; sometimes tranquil, sometimes exciting, but always satisfying. My days were full of love, and happiness, like I’d never known, nor dared to dream of.

I was happy. My mate, and husband, was happy. My familiars were happy. Even our wetland home was flourishing, thanks to Skull’s steadily improving mental health, and his overflowing positive emotions.

Everything was perfect, and it seemed like it always would be.

I truly believed that I was living my best life, and that there was nothing at all that could make it better.

... 

And then I became pregnant.

~~~

Discovering that we were going to be parents was more than a little overwhelming. For the both of us. Skull had been all alone, without anyone, for centuries, and I wasn’t much better in that regard, either. Neither of us were very confident that we would be up to the challenge of raising a child.

Those early days were tumultuous. Skull’s instincts went haywire, and he frenziedly tried to make our nest as safe and as comfortable as possible. He added even more pillows and blankets to the tree-cottage, until I could barely walk in my own home, and temporarily banished all of the alligators from the swamp. While Skull knew, on an intellectual level, that the poor reptiles would never hurt me, his protective instincts would not allow any large predators anywhere near me, his mate, while I was with child. The alligators were, understandably, very upset, but had begrudgingly obeyed.

Consequently, the marsh and bog had become even more dangerous for humans to traverse, even as both became more vibrant and alive, thanks to Skull’s huge increase of positive emotions.

Not that I was able to appreciate any of that, however. Given my delicate state, I wasn’t allowed to leave the heart of the swamp. I’d expected that, truthfully, but it was nonetheless mildly annoying. While I had rarely travelled far from the swamp to begin with, I still missed being able to collect potions ingredients, travelling the wetlands with my mate, either riding on his head, or with Skull trailing close behind me like a baby duckling. But a Forest God’s natural instincts could not be denied.

There was one major benefit to my pregnancy, though – Skull made a real effort to use his smaller, humanoid form more often, in spite of how uncomfortable it was for him. Our cuddles were becoming more and more frequent, which more than made up for everything. Being able to hold my husband close to my chest, and feel his arms around me, was worth any inconvenience I had to put up with.

My tree-cottage had also undergone some notable changes. Skull and I had constructed an extra room, attached to the main living area on the ground floor, which would serve as our child’s bedroom. It wasn’t very aesthetically pleasing, and made the giant tree look lopsided at the bottom, but I didn’t want our child to have to pass through the potentially dangerous study/potions area, just to reach their bedroom.

Skull had already started stuffing piles of blankets and pillows inside the new baby room, leaving barely any room for the child’s cot. I let him, reasoning that it was better that he do so there, than elsewhere in the cottage. I’d had to put my foot down, when my mate had tried to blanket my study.

Besides the living arrangements, preparing for our new arrival came with some rather... interesting challenges. All owing to the fact that neither of us knew what species our child would be.

This was because, while mages were considered humans, we were, technically, actually a sub-species of human. As such, we differed from ordinary, non-magical humans in a variety of ways, most notably our ability to use magic. Another difference was that, whether or not a child born to a mage was one themself, all depended on both the magical parent’s biological sex, as well as the child’s.

To be precise, a female child born to a witch would always be a witch, and a male child born to a wizard would always be a wizard (barring any future decision to change one’s sex). Otherwise, the child would be of the same species as their non-mage parent. In my case, that meant that I would either have a witch daughter, or a Forest God son. And neither of us would know until much later on in the pregnancy. For now, though, it was a mystery.

The prospect of my impending motherhood was both terrifying... and exciting.

Furthermore, as my pregnancy progressed, and the life within my womb kept growing, unknown emotions started taking root inside my heart. Feelings of love, both soft and tender, yet also powerful and all-consuming, swept over me with a ferocity which threw me off guard. I never thought that I would feel so completely and utterly devoted to, and protective of, a person who hadn’t even been born yet.

But as my belly swelled with new life, so too did my heart swell with emotion, as I fell more and more in love with this impossibly tiny, and precious creature I had yet to meet. And I wasn’t the only one caught in our baby’s spell.

Skull adored our child from the very moment he became aware of their existence. Despite how overwhelmed he was, and how out of our depths we both were, he was still beyond overjoyed to become a father. The Wetland God was completely obsessed with the tiny life growing inside me, and would frequently stare at my belly in wonder, as if not quite fully able to believe that there was a child in there, his child. It made him all the more endearing in my eyes.

Whenever he was in his humanoid form, Skull would place his hands so delicately, so hesitantly on my belly, and just leave them there, for as long as I would let him, desperately trying to feel his baby growing within me, and be as close to them as he could. And when the baby started to move, those touches became near constant. As inconvenient as it was, having Skull practically glued to my belly, seeing his face light up with pure joy and awe, each time our baby kicked, was more than worth it.

My husband also became even more attentive than ever, and did everything in his power to see that my needs were met. He kept making sure that I was comfortable, and happy, panicking whenever my “morning” (ha!) sickness acted up, and almost never left my side if he could help it. If there was something I wanted, he would try his best to get it for me, and had even learned to cook very simple meals, helping me around the house and the garden, whenever and however possible.

As for the things he couldn’t do, my familiars were more than capable of handling those. Both Missy and Hermes were frequently sent out to go fetch whatever food I was currently craving, with a note, a small bag, and some money clutched in their mouth or talons. Hermes was particularly adept at this, given how he was always the one who delivered the potions I brewed, to my clients.

Whenever my familiars weren’t out getting me supplies, they were either hovering protectively at my side, or were hanging out in the baby room, eagerly awaiting the little one’s arrival. Both had taken a keen interest in my child, even the normally aloof Artemis, and had appointed themselves my baby’s future protectors. A duty they both took very seriously. It was reassuring, knowing that I could always count on their support.

All in all, my pregnancy was progressing relatively smoothly, and all of us were greatly looking forward to welcoming the baby into our lives. We all already loved the child, so much, and yet we knew that our love for them would only grow stronger as time passed.

~~~

With all of these changes happening in my life, the one I least expected was how I’d begun to think about my mother again. I hadn’t thought about her much, if at all, ever since arriving in the wetlands, but now that I was about to become a mother myself, my mind would often turn to my own, late mother.

They weren’t even born yet, but I already loved my child with every fibre of my being. There was absolutely nothing that I wouldn’t do for their sake, and I was constantly thinking of ways I could ensure that they would live a healthy, happy life. I wanted only the best for my baby, and would do anything to achieve that.

All of a sudden, I could understand how my mother must’ve felt, when she was pregnant with me.

I could understand, only too well, just how desperate she must’ve been to make sure that I would not suffer the same fate as her. I could sympathise, only too keenly, with her fervent wish to see me loved and admired, by those who had hated and feared her. It was with startling clarity, that I could see exactly why she did what she did. A mother’s love was a powerful, and terrifying thing indeed.

And with that understanding, came a willingness to forgive.

The resentment I’d held in my heart, all these years, finally started to fade away.

I was finally ready to talk to my mother.

And so, on the night of the next new moon, at precisely midnight, I performed the ritual to summon Mother’s spirit from the afterlife, and bind it to her skull.

When it was done, I stepped back, and took a deep, fortifying breath, steeling myself for what was sure to be a very trying experience. It was never easy, talking to Mother, and I hadn’t done so in years. I was more nervous than I thought I would be.

When the hollow sockets of Mother’s skull lit up, those eyelights travelled around the room for a few tense seconds, before eventually settling on me.

“So, you’ve finally decided to talk to me, have you? Well, better late than never, I suppose.”

I reflexively hunched my shoulders at the chastising tone of her familiar voice, feeling like a young child once more, being scolded by her mother. I stood up straighter in defiance of that feeling, trying to dismiss it from my mind and my heart. I was an adult now, and soon to be a mother myself.

“It has, indeed, been a while, Mother.” I inclined my head to her, in acknowledgment. “I’ve been... busy, since last we spoke.”

Mother’s eyelights roved across my form, coming to a halt on my protruding abdomen. Her eye sockets widened.

“So I can see! It seems you’ve finally deigned to let someone touch you. Will wonders never cease?”

I pursed my lips, resisting the urge to rub my forehead, and soothe the ache I could feel building behind my brow. Instead, I raised my hand and gestured to Skull, who stood anxiously by the tree-cottage's entrance, his massive head peeking inside.

“Mother, I’d like to introduce you to my husband, the Forest God of these wetlands.”

Skull bowed his head in greeting, giving Mother a rather nervous-looking smile.

“hello... mate’s mother... nice to... meet you...”

Absolutely gigantic, monstrous-looking, shrouded in the darkness of a moonless night sky, and illuminated only by the glow of fireflies, and the crimson light of his eye, Skull made for quite the intimidating sight. But Mother only gave him a dismissive “hm” in response, her eyelights flitting across his features, before they returned to me.

“I’m not surprised, honestly,” she sniffed. I could practically see the shrug she was unable to give. “I always knew you’d never fall for an ordinary human.”

I had nothing to say to that, really.

Mother then turned her attention back to Skull.

“So then, what’s your name, big fella?” she asked him, her tone more casual than it had any right to be.

“Mother!” I hissed at her. “You can’t just ask that of a Forest God! It’s rude!”

The animated skull raised one of her brows, looking utterly unrepentant.

“So what?” she retorted, unabashedly. “What’s he going to do? Kill me harder? Is there another level of ‘dead’ I didn’t know about? If so, I’d like to see it. Should be an interesting experience.”

I sighed heavily, feeling my shoulders sag. This was going to be a long night. Turning to Skull, I gave my husband an apologetic look.

“Sorry about Mother. Please pay her no mind, love.”

I heard Mother harrumph behind me, but I ignored her, focusing only on my mate’s face, looking for any sign that my mother’s words had upset or angered him. But I found none. Instead, Skull was staring at Mother with what was unmistakably awe written all across his features.

“mate’s mother is... brave... and... spirited...” he remarked, sounding impressed. He then turned his head towards me. “just like... you...”

I wasn’t sure how to feel about such a comparison.

Mother gave Skull a broad, toothy grin.

“Yep. Girl’s always been headstrong and wilful, just like her mother,” she practically boasted.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, either.

Then Mother’s grin turned wry.

“It's a real wonder she’s never gotten herself into any serious trouble yet. As far as I’m aware of, at least.”

I was sure how to feel about that, however.

Affronted, I glared at Mother.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that not a single person I’ve met has ever had a bad word to say about me!”

Mother looked decidedly unimpressed.

“Of course not. They’re all too mesmerised by your beauty,” she rebutted. “A beauty I gave you, no less.”

The reminder of what had always been more of a curse to me, than a gift, stung. I shot her a baleful glare.

“I’m more than just a pretty face. So much more,” I insisted, tone carefully flat. Internally seething, I crossed my arms, my fingernails digging into my skin. “I’ve already made quite the name for myself, and the Mage’s Guild were most impressed with my talents.”

Mother snorted.

“Pah! The Mage’s Guild! That lot are nothing but a bunch of bootlickers and stuffy bookworms,” she sniffed, tone full of mocking condescension.

I bristled, offended on the Guild’s behalf, even though, secretly, I’d thought much the same about them myself.

“How dare you, Mother! The Guild is a prestigious institution!”

Mother rolled her eyelights. “Prestigious my arse.”

I gasped, utterly appalled at her foul language. “Watch your tongue, Mother!”

She shot me an incredulous look. “I haven’t got one, you daft child.”

At this point, I was about ready to hurl Mother’s skull out the window, and pray that it sank to the very bottom of the swamp, but I managed to restrain myself. Just.

Then, Mother’s eye sockets narrowed.

“Say, is that miserable old wanker still in charge?” she enquired, the slightest hint of bitterness in her voice.

My jaw dropped, as I gave her a scandalised look.

“Mother! You can’t talk about the Guildmaster that way!”

But she only scowled – an especially unnerving expression given that she was nothing but a skull.

“Bah! They’re nothing special,” she sneered, derision clear in her expression and her tone. “None of that lot are, in the Guild. In any Guild. I’ve been to many, all around the world, but they’re all the same, each one full of nothing but useless cretins. I was glad to be rid of them, when I left.”

Her shameless and irreverent behaviour was more than I could bear, especially not with a baby on the way, as well as with my sweet and soft-hearted husband having to play witness to it all. Abandoning my self-restraint and all pretence of decorum, I buried my head in my hands, letting out the biggest, long-suffering groan I could.

Skull nudged me, ever so gently, making soft, worried sounds, and I uncovered my head, to stroke his snout comfortingly, wanting to ease his concerns. His big, red eyelight gazed at me consideringly, assessing if I was truly all right, and I gave him my best reassuring smile, which seemed to satisfy him.

Meanwhile, my mother was giving me her own, scrutinising look. Her eye sockets narrowed in concentration, as her eyelights scanned me, something sharp and calculating in her gaze.

“I see you’ve managed to find a use for my old paperweight,” she remarked blandly.

I ran a hand over my face, massaging my temple in aggravation.

“Mother, the Philosopher’s Stone is a valuable artefact of unparalleled importance! It should not be used as a mere paperweight!”

But as usual, my protests fell on deaf ears. Mother was as impertinent as always.

“Well it’s not like that lousy rock was good for much else. Besides, it’s really bloody heavy! I could hardly lift the damn thing!”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, mentally counting to ten, as I took deep, calming breaths. From within my womb, my child gave a hard kick, successfully dragging my attention away from my infuriating mother, and towards my darling baby. I rubbed my belly, trying to soothe my child back to sleep, and felt them settle down once more.

Skull nudged me again, more insistently, concern shining in his face and emanating from his magic.

“are you... okay...? is baby... okay...? can i... help...?” he asked me softly.

My husband’s earnest concern and care for me never failed to warm my heart. I smiled back at him, running my hands along his muzzle in gentle caresses.

“I’m fine, thank you, Skull,” I assured him.

He leaned into my touch, as desperate for affection as ever, and I couldn’t help but indulge his adorable, needy side, with more pets and a kiss to the end of his snout.

Sadly, the tender moment was ruined, and my attention was ripped away from my sweet, loving mate, and pulled back to my irritating mother, when she spoke up once again.

“Oh, so that’s his name, is it? Skull? A little uninspired, but I suppose it’ll do.”

I was close to tearing my hair out in frustration and exasperation.

“Mother! Please! Skull is both my husband and a Forest God. Try to show him at least some respect!” I practically pleaded with her, for all the good I knew it’d do.

Mother raised a browbone at me, completely unaffected by either my words or my tone.

“The living show the dead respect, not the other way around, you silly child. Besides, Skull is my son-in-law, and I’ll not treat him any differently than I would any other family member.”

Skull’s eyelight lit up like a beacon, even as the edges got fuzzy. He appeared to be on the verge of tears, as he gave Mother the most heartfelt look of wonder and gratitude.

“mate’s mother... accepts... me...?” he mumbled, voice low, and thick with emotion. “i’m... so... happy... thank... you...”

I was a little stunned at how Skull had managed to only see the positive in what my mother had said, but more than anything, I was relieved. So long as my beloved was happy, I could overlook the rest.

Even Mother seemed a little taken aback. She blinked, her eye sockets slightly wide, before she collected herself.

“You’re welcome, dear,” she told him, voice uncharacteristically sincere. “I can tell that you make my daughter happy, and that’s all I could ask for.”

The hard edges of her skull seemed to soften, and she smiled at me, one of her very rare, genuine smiles.

“I’m glad that you have someone who loves you, especially during this difficult time. I’m glad that you aren’t alone, like I was.”

That left me truly speechless. I honestly had no idea how to respond to such heartfelt words, coming from my mother of all people.

“I- I-, um...uh... Thank you, Mother...” I eventually forced out, fiddling with my fingers, and shyly averting my eyes, unable to meet my mother’s gaze.

It was sobering, being reminded of how much hardship my mother had had to endure. As far as I could tell, she’d always been alone. When I was a child, I’d never once seen her be close with anyone, and there was never any sign of her having any friends or lovers, let alone a spouse. The only companionship she had, was myself and her familiars, a black cat, a sparrowhawk, and a viper.

As a child, I’d occasionally wondered about my father. But my mother’s stony expression, whenever he was mentioned, had stayed my tongue. It wasn’t worth dredging up unpleasant memories, just to sate my meagre curiosity. My father wasn’t around, and that was all that mattered, in the end.

But now that I was about to become a mother myself, I realised how fortunate I truly was. I was grateful that I would have Skull’s love and support to rely on. I was thankful that our child would have both parents to nurture, care for, and protect them. Words could not express how much I appreciated how blessed I was, to love and be loved in return.

As if to confirm my thoughts, Skull nuzzled me, purrs reverberating from deep within his massive chest.

“not alone... never alone... you have me... always...” he promised me, tone overflowing with adoration and devotion. “i love you... i love you so... so much... i will be... with you... forever... i will... never leave... you... my precious mate... never...”

Familiar warmth flooded my chest, my heart constricting with a love of unfathomable depth. I hugged my husband’s huge head as close to me as I could, and pressed several lingering kisses to his snout.

“I love you too, Skull,” I whispered against his face. “And I’ll never leave you either. We’ll always be together.”

The Wetland God let out a deep, guttural, grating sound.

“yes... together... forever...” he agreed, the pupil of his single eyelight transforming into a little heart, as he smiled lovingly at me.

Watching our affectionate display, Mother’s lipless mouth curled into a sly grin.

“Oh, so it’s that kind of relationship.”

Drawing back slightly from my husband, I frowned harshly at my mother.

“Whatever you’re thinking right now, Mother, stop it! This instant!” I bit out, through gritted teeth.

Mother chuckled, a teasing glint in her eyelights.

“Now, now, child, don’t fret, I won’t judge."

“Mother!!”

~~~

The sun was low in the sky, only just starting to dip below the horizon, dying everything a soft pinkish-orange hue. As our surroundings darkened, fireflies began making their appearance, their soft glow blending in with the will-o'-the-wisps shyly peeking out from behind the trees – an increasingly common sight, now that Skull was no longer the same violent, lonely Bog God he was before I arrived. The air was filled with the buzzing of insects, the distant croaking of frogs, and the gentle sloshing of water, as some aquatic creature broke though the surface.

It reminded me of when I first arrived in the swamp, hoping to make my home there.

The peaceful atmosphere filled me with the sweetest nostalgia, and I reclined back in Skull’s arms, sinking further into my husband’s embrace behind me. In response, the transformed deity’s arms tightened around me, his hands continuing to stroke my swollen belly, as he began purring once more. His magic practically sang, as it caressed me on all sides, echoing all of my mate’s love and happiness. Our baby also seemed to be relaxing, only giving the occasional kick to remind us of their presence.

Artemis was curled up on my lap, fast asleep, whereas Hermes was perched above us, on a nearby branch, keeping his usual vigil, regardless of how safe we were, in the very heart of Skull’s territory. Mother’s skull had been brought outside, and placed on the edge of the lip of wood at the entrance to my tree-cottage, where we were all resting. For once, Mother was blissfully silent, as she admired the beautiful scenery, and enjoyed the quiet tranquillity of the misty swamp at dusk.

My hands came up to settle atop Skull’s on my abdomen, lacing our fingers together. Skull gave my hands the very gentlest of squeezes, ever mindful of his great strength, and nuzzled his face into my hair. I could feel him take several deep breaths, likely inhaling my scent, and his purring got a little louder and deeper.

I wasn’t sure what the future would bring, or what challenges life would throw at us, but for this one moment in time, all was well. I was surrounded by my family – surrounded by all that I loved in this world. And I would hold this moment in my heart forever, and cherish it for the rest of my life.

...

~~~~~

...

Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes, and the cutest little button nose. My daughter was perfect.

I was exhausted. I was in pain. But I had never been happier.

After nine months of carrying her in my womb, and many hours spent bringing her into the world, I finally held my daughter in my arms.

I was utterly entranced, as I gazed down at her with all the love in my heart and soul, feeling indescribable warmth flood through my entire body. She was so perfect.

My daughter was, for all intents and purposes, a human – a witch, like me. But her Forest God blood would likely affect her magical core in unpredictable ways. She would almost certainly have powerful, if highly unstable magic, just like her father. It would be up to me to teach her the discipline and control necessary to harness that wild, chaotic magic.

She would definitely have a very difficult path ahead of her, if she wished to master her magic, as I, and my mother, had. But if becoming a great witch was something that she wanted, then she would always have my support, and I would do all in my power to help her, in any way I could. And even if she had no interest in developing her abilities to their full potential, she would still, always have my love and support.

As well as her father’s.

Skull was hovering by my bedside, very clearly wanting to come closer, but seemingly too afraid to do so. His magic was a turbulent tornado of emotions; fear, excitement, hope, joy, love, all warring together in his soul, as he gazed down at our baby. I knew he was too overwhelmed by his emotions, to be able to hold our daughter, and would need some time to calm himself down, so I just cradled our child close and made sure that Skull had a clear view of her.

The Wetland God was almost entirely covered in tiny, vibrantly colourful flowers. While his brilliantly glittering red eyelight was fully focused on the newborn baby in my arms, his other eye socket was bursting with little marsh flowers. Furthermore, there was a veritable bouquet sprouting out of the gaping hole in his skull, and, all in all, my mate was practically a living flower sculpture. He was adorable.

I looked back down at my daughter. They both were.

I was so lucky, so blessed, to have such a wonderful family.

My life hadn’t been easy, and the road to getting to this point had been long and winding, and fraught with many obstacles. But I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Every choice I’d made may not have been the best one, but they all, eventually, led me to here, to this moment, and I was glad for it. This moment was easily the happiest of my entire life, and was more than worth every single hardship I’d ever suffered. I had no regrets whatsoever, not anymore.

Choosing to become a swamp witch really had been the best decision of my entire life.

_______________________________________________

There's only the epilogue left, but it's mostly a just a fun little bonus chapter for those who've read and enjoyed "Good Girl Needs Kiss", so this fic is basically finished now.

I really wish my head were a little less fuzzy and achy, so that I could actually think clearly and give this fic the send-off I feel it deserves, but this cold has been dragging on for a bit, and I've been writing this for too long and am way too impatient to finally get it out. I've had a lot of fun writing this, but I'm happy to put it mostly behind me, and finally move onto something else. I'm not sure when the epilogue will be out, maybe soon if I'm really impatient, or maybe not if I want a break.

By either way, I'm taking it easy for a bit. Once the epilogue's done, though, I'm definitely going to be focusing on more Frans stuff, because I really miss writing it.

=> Epilogue

#JMB writes #skull x reader #forest god au #forest god skull #reader is a witch #skull is baby #they both get lots of love and cuddles #fluff #so much fluff #more characters! #who don't get as much screen time as I'd like #but also too much at the same time #why did every single part of this chapter take twice as long to write as it should've?? #I cannot stress enough that this whole fic was supposed to be SHORT

[circuscountdowns]

I don’t think the crown works like this. added the full pages

#narilamb #cw suggestive #cw gore #had sir Chloe’s I am the dog on repeat for this one. #Pls understand they never actually have sex they just 4d chess mind games all the time and they think it’s better and are still in love #oh you desire to wax poetic to my skull? You are like baby watch this - eats u alive and u love it. Weirdos. #I hc that lamb has zero libido but godhood gives them huge desire to eat flesh n meat unfortunately #cotl art

[starry-bi-sky]

danyal al ghul memes because i don't think i've done those yet for this au.

(the jason one is in reference to the fanon headcanon/au that Jason and Damian potentially knew each other and interacted while jason was in the league. I've thought about it before in context of this au, but haven't thought about it enough to feel inspired or motivated to make a post exploring the idea)

(diablito means, as you can guess, 'little devil'. while i'm neutral to latino jason, i think the nickname is cute as fuck and was danny's main nickname from Jason. i don't wanna touch that timeline so im not gonna decide how old they were when Jason was there.)

Skulker: i am the ghost zone's greatest hunter! i capture and hunt creatures both rare and dangerous. Danyal: a poacher?? you're a poacher?? you poach animals??Skulker:...i sense i've made a mistake of some kind.

anyways that was the day that Skulker cemented himself as Danny's no.1 opp, and still remains there to this day even if he and Vlad are both viciously fighting for second. Out of everyone in the the AP rogues gallery, Skulker will be the first to be thrown under the bus in terms of 'o shit here comes phantom fucking RUN'.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #dpxdc memes #danyal al ghul #dpdc #truly the epitome of “i dont faster than the bear i just need to be faster than YOU” #regardless of when Jason was with the league he *does* know that Danny loved Damian. don't ask me about the timeline because it'll be #*messsyyyy* and i've seen plenty of aus where jason was there while Damian as an infant so i can totally believe this could happen i just #need to do the mental gymnastics for it. not even. baby im faceplanting right into the mat and not getting up #the last meme is a tiktok sound that i found and thought was hilarious. and would also ABSOLUTELY be a story danyal would tell the #family after reuniting and developing a bond with them. damian has no recollection of this but is embarrassed nonetheless #danny spat that story out when he over heard damian claiming he doesn't have any embarrassing stories from the league. danny beat jason #to the punch and in the most deadpan voice said 'i remember you walking into my room. as a toddler. in nothing but a diaper. and picking #a marble up off the floor and holding it out. like the skull of yorick. before putting it as far down your throat as possible. i had to #stick my entire arm down your esophagus to pull it out. and save your life' before walking away #i got the ages wrong in the last image so just assume that danny recently turned seven and damian is like #18 months old #about a year and a half.

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

About twenty minutes into the hike, Steve hears Eddie’s breathing change.

They’re bringing up the rear, but they’re still close enough for some of the group’s conversations to be within earshot—Robin and Nancy leading in a silently agreed upon formation, despite Dustin holding the compass. That way, no matter what, the kids are shielded.

Speaking of the kids, they’re currently having a passionate discussion about who among them will reach the Gate the fastest—and yeah, there’s not a chance in hell that’s happening, Steve thinks, but they don’t need to know that yet.

It’s when the debate specifically turns to who’s the best swimmer that he notices the switch in Eddie’s breathing, air sucked in through clenched teeth. A glance behind confirms Steve’s suspicions; Eddie’s breaking away from the party, his face white, eyes steadfastly on the forest floor.

Steve leaves him be, doesn’t draw any attention to it—but he keeps watch in his peripheral, so he spots exactly when Eddie staggers off, soon swallowed up by the trees. He can still hear his footsteps, though, which is reassuring.

Slowly, making sure it seems casual, Steve bends down and picks up the smallest rock he can find, rubs his thumb across it to make sure the edges are smooth enough.

He throws, hits his target: the back of Dustin’s head.

Predictably, Dustin whirls around, mouth already open to voice his indignation.

Steve quickly puts a finger to his lips.

While Dustin doesn’t look all that thrilled about it, he obligingly stays silent. He’s damn quick on the uptake, of course; Steve can see the spark of understanding in his eyes when he notices that Eddie is missing.

He steps forward with urgency, but Steve’s just as quick to shake his head.

No, it’s okay. I’m on it.

He knows it’s not a coincidence that Eddie left so quietly—that having the kids see him in another moment of vulnerability is probably too much to handle on top of the ongoing nightmare he’s found himself in. Steve gets it; God, if he were in Eddie’s shoes, he’d be taking any opportunity that he could to get some privacy.

Even without words, it’s obvious that Dustin wants to protest, frowning hard.

Steve raises an eyebrow meaningfully. Dude, trust me.

Dustin heaves a silent, dramatic sigh, but he nods all the same.

Steve gestures for the water bottle Dustin’s got in his backpack. Mimes for Dustin to throw it to him.

Dustin brings out the bottle, but doesn’t throw it immediately, like he’s doubtful Steve will make the catch.

Steve rolls his eyes. Seriously? Dickhead.

Dustin rolls his eyes right back.

When he throws the bottle, Steve catches it one-handed as a point of pride.

Dustin’s theatrics grow: he gasps, all slack-jawed, wide-eyed disbelief; Steve flips him off.

Then Dustin taps his watch deliberately.

Steve softens, gives him a brief thumbs up before following where Eddie went. He looks back a couple of times, reassured by the sight of Robin and Nancy stopping and rearranging themselves so the group formation is kept up in his absence.

It doesn’t take long to find Eddie. He hears him first, harsh, bitten off retching—and while that’s not exactly a surprise, the sound still makes Steve’s heart sink.

Eddie’s doubled over, leaning against a tree with one hand. Steve feels a sudden impulse to pull his hair back for him but resists it—remembers Eddie violently flinching away from any touch in the boathouse.

So he just makes sure his presence is nice and obvious without being overwhelming—takes leisurely, even footsteps. He sits down opposite, just close enough that Eddie could reach out if he needed to.

But he doesn’t. He’s barely stopped retching before he’s trying to straighten up, grip slipping against the bark. Steve winces at the thought of splinters digging into his palm.

“Woah, man, take it easy—”

“M’fine,” Eddie mutters. He scoffs harshly, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He’s shaking. “This is kinda normal for me now.”

His head’s still half bowed, hair falling across his face like he doesn’t want to be seen. It doesn’t stop Steve from noticing the evidence of tears on his face; he thinks they’re simply from the exertion of throwing up, but he can’t be sure.

“Just—just give yourself a minute,” Steve says. “We’ve got time.”

He stretches out right there on the ground, slow and deliberate. It takes a second or two before Eddie—after another wobbly attempt at standing—mirrors him: sinking down until he’s sat, back pressed up against the tree trunk.

Steve listens to his breathing. It’s lost that nauseated gritted teeth sound, but it hitches once, twice, and then—

“I can’t stop—” Eddie covers his face with his hands.

Steve shuffles closer. “You’re okay.”

But Eddie shakes his head. He drops his hands, leans his head back against the tree. His eyes are distant. Haunted. Steve doesn’t need to guess about what he’s seeing.

“Eddie—”

“You know the funniest thing?” Eddie gasps out, like it isn’t funny at all. “I keep thinking if—if only I hadn’t ditched swimming lessons, I might’ve l-learned something fucking useful.”

At a loss for what to say, Steve tries for something normal. Thinks back to high school, something far away from all of this…

“You showed up to swimming,” he says. “I remember.”

He does, though it’s faint.

Honestly, he spent as little time as he could changing in the showers, wanting to make the most out of time in the pool. He didn’t even goof off with Tommy H or any of the other guys, preferring to do solo laps in the deep end. It was repetitive, calming; he treated it like a vacation from the adrenaline of being on the swim team.

Then came that November, and the whole routine became an escape from much more.

Eddie gives him a look that might’ve passed for amusement at one point, if his breathing wasn’t still so shallow.

“Yeah, I—I showed up for, like, the first week, Harrington. Fucking Lewinsky stole my clothes, you only let that kinda thing happen once.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says sincerely. “I didn’t know.”

A wan flicker of a smile passes across Eddie’s face. “Of course you didn’t,” he says. It’s not an accusation. “You were, like, way too busy being part fish.”

Steve huffs a laugh through his nose, but Eddie doesn’t join in. Instead his breathing quickens, like the distraction of high school hasn’t been nearly enough.

“It’s just—I should’ve been more—should’ve known h-how to—” He shakes his head again. Swallows. “After Chr—”

He chokes on her name.

Steve reaches out, only to hesitate and leave his hand hovering in the air between them. “Hey, man, there’s nothing you could’ve—”

“What if it’s not a coincidence?” Eddie whispers. “What if there’s—there’s a… there’s gotta be a reason that—that it’s me.”

Steve moves closer still. Draws back at the last second; Eddie’s still trembling.

“That’s bullshit,” Steve says firmly.

Eddie laughs bitterly. “Is it? D-don’t fucking kid yourself, Harrington, s’not exactly looking good. Two people died r-right in front of me, and I just…” He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I’d arrest me.”

“Stop, would you just—”

“Come on, man. You’ve gotta know, even if Wheeler and Buckley are still too polite to say it.” Eddie’s voice is soft in resignation. “I’m just wasting your time.”

It’s Steve’s turn to scoff. “Do you seriously think we’d be doing all of this if we thought you were a lost cause?”

Eddie shrugs, the sleeves of his leather jacket scraping against the bark. “There’s only so many signs a guy can ignore, right? Hell, even my watch has stopped, like I’m literally outta fucking time.”

“Okay, no wonder you failed English,” Steve says, “that is overwrought as shit, dude.”

The jab doesn’t quite land—his barely concealed worry just makes him sound sharp. Fraught.

But Eddie’s eyes widen in surprise, and he finally seems speechless, and this is it, Steve realises, the one chance he has to get through to him.

“Nothing prepares you for this shit, Eddie,” he says—thinks of 1983, of seeing the impossible. Terrified out of his mind. “I mean it, there’s nothing you could’ve done. Nothing,” he adds pointedly, when it looks like Eddie might protest. “Chrissy, Patrick, it’s fucking awful what they—but it’s not—not a, um. Not a reflection on—it’s not your fault.”

It’s not enough, Steve knows it—feels acutely like a shitty school guidance counsellor, only able to parrot empty platitudes. He has to dig deeper.

He looks at Eddie directly, unflinching. Can read the fear lurking in his eyes, the one he keeps dancing around.

A fierce emotion floods Steve’s chest—like being flung into the deep end without warning, the water already over your head before you can take a breath.

He’s felt it before, mixed up in a wave of anger as he watched Powell raise that goddamn picture to the camera.

Don’t you go believing a word this town says about you, Eddie Munson. Don’t you dare.

Steve braves a touch, places a hand on Eddie’s knee. Eddie doesn’t move.

“You’re not the curse, Eddie. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Eddie shudders. He looks away, but not quick enough to hide the definite tears this time.

Steve waits. He doesn’t move his hand for a long moment.

When Eddie’s finished roughly wiping at his face with his sleeve, Steve hands over the water bottle. He’s silently relieved that Eddie takes it without a fight, like accepting even this smallest amount of help means there’s still a part of him that hasn’t given up yet.

There’s still hope.

After a few sips, Eddie sets the water bottle aside. He’s breathing deeper now, and when he looks up, his eyes have that keen, almost analytical gaze.

“What’s…?” he murmurs, and then he’s the one that’s reaching out, as if without thinking, fingertips lightly brushing against Steve’s forehead.

He feels cold, Steve thinks. Like he’s still half frozen from falling into the lake.

“Did you… cut yourself on something?” Eddie says.

Steve’s about to say no automatically before he remembers.

“Right, yeah. Um, our flashlights kinda… exploded when…”

He trails off. Watches with sympathy as Eddie fills in the gaps.

“Oh,” Eddie says very quietly.

He keeps following the trail of the cut—Steve can still feel the chill of him: the light pressure travelling across his skin, like Eddie needs the motion to stay calm.

“Ow,” Eddie says, hushed, almost as if it happened to him, too. “You’re lucky you didn’t get glass in your eye, dude.”

Steve doesn’t say what he’s thinking—that he’d have dealt with it, that he would’ve been fine—because he thinks he understands: that maybe by focusing on something small, it helps keep Eddie here, temporarily blocks out the sight of Chrissy and Patrick’s deaths.

He checks his watch. They’re just creeping up on fifteen minutes; they’d better make tracks soon.

He stands but not abruptly, conscious of not rushing Eddie unnecessarily.

“If we cut across, uh, this way,” he demonstrates with one hand as Eddie gets to his feet, “we’ll catch up pretty quick. Don’t need Henderson’s compass to tell me the way. Honestly, he acts like he knows places better than me when I’ve known them, like, all my life. He does it all the damn time.”

Eddie lets out a laugh that still sounds slightly wet; he sniffs as if to cover up the sound. His smile is shaky at best, but it seems genuine.

“Man, he does that to me, too. What is up with that? Last week, he swore he found some shortcut to the Hellfire room that I’d be totally unaware of, like I’ve not spent forever in the damn building.”

He falls into step with Steve as they walk on, and Steve catches the very slight grimace he makes as he swallows.

Steve checks his jeans pocket. It turns out luck is on his side, at least for this: he’s got a couple of mints, still unwrapped.

When he offers some to Eddie, he gets a heartfelt thanks in reply. But at the same time, Eddie also looks suspiciously close to fighting a smirk.

“What?”

“Nothing!” But the smirk’s definitely won; Eddie tucks the mint into the corner of his mouth as he says, “Just didn’t realise I was getting the full Skull Rock experience.”

It takes a second for Steve to catch on. “The experience—?”

Eddie’s smirk grows. “Your reputation precedes you.”

Steve snorts. “Fuck off, are you twelve?”

“Maybe,” Eddie says, halfway to singsong.

Steve shakes his head, half in amusement, half in thought. Sharing juvenile kisses with girls at Skull Rock feels a world away, almost like it happened to someone else. That’s not even why the mints were in his pocket in the first place—not that he’s gonna put a dampener on Eddie’s teasing or anything. In truth, the habit began the night after Starcourt, using a mint—despite his stinging mouth—to help keep himself awake.

Of course he doesn’t say all of that. Chooses instead to nudge Eddie in the side, fighting a smirk of his own.

Eddie acts like he’s been dramatically winded in response, makes a crack about how that move wouldn’t fall under the Skull Rock experience.

Steve thinks he’s getting a handle on how to read him, charting the improvement of his mood through just how stupid he sounds—when smiling no longer seems like it’ll fracture his face from the strain.

By the time they catch up with the others, they’re both stifling laughter (Steve keeps having to remind himself that this is technically a stealth mission), Eddie reaching across to mess with Steve’s hair in retaliation for being repeatedly nudged in the ribs. His hands feel warmer now, Steve realises with a smile, as he pushes Eddie back with a forearm against his chest.

For the most part, it looks like their disappearances haven’t been noticed—Nancy quietly moving to rejoin Robin at the front as if by chance. Steve knows better, knows everything has been carefully coordinated to look that way; as Eddie relaxes at his side, he feels a rush of gratitude for the group’s tact.

Granted, Dustin kind of breaks the illusion when he turns around and starts walking backwards—but what he lacks in subtlety he makes up for in entertainment: using needlessly big, questioning gestures, brow furrowed in concentration.

When Dustin widens his eyes impatiently, Steve relents and nudges Eddie again. “He’s not gonna stop til you respond, trust me.”

“Hmm? Oh.”

Eddie lifts up Dustin’s water bottle with a grin and gives a thumbs up with his free hand.

Dustin brightens, replying with a thumbs up of his own—still stubbornly walking backwards like it’s simply his preferred way to travel.

“Gonna bet on how long it takes for him to fall flat on his face?” Steve says in an undertone.

Eddie snorts in a way that can’t be disguised as anything else, though he gives it a shot with the world’s least convincing cough. He gives up in the next breath, chuckling through a, “Steve,” in joking disapproval, like Steve’s such a terrible influence, which just sets them both off again.

Dustin’s probably too far away to hear them properly, but he’s clearly got the gist, eyes narrowing in suspicion. He does a series of emphatic gestures that Steve can’t make sense of; it just looks like he’s doing a complicated mime for charades.

Eddie must get the same impression because he soon calls out with a shit-eating grin, “Book or movie?”

Dustin flips them both off, but he can’t quite pull off the deadpan expression, his lips twitching, and Steve knows for sure that he’s hiding a laugh when he turns back around to walk with Max and Lucas.

Eddie smiles as if he’s noticed the same thing. He jostles their shoulders one last time, and it feels like there’s something more intentional behind it. A touch that lingers.

It’s easy when there’s still a long walk ahead of them—when there’s still daylight—to be convinced that they’ve got all the time in the world. Steve’s become kind of an expert at it: in his head, he could make swimming lessons last forever.

But even that old trick doesn’t last; he feels the clock restart as soon as that damn vine wraps around his ankle, cold and unyielding.

In the split second before being dragged under the lake, all he can think is thank God the kids aren’t here.

The thought follows him all the way into The Upside Down—later joined by the fervent wish that he could somehow summon up Dustin’s water bottle, as his head spins through the hopefully staunched bat bites.

“Christ, Harrington,” Eddie says when the dizziness persists, and Steve barely catches himself before falling against a vineless tree. “D’you ever take your own advice?”

“What?” Steve says faintly.

He screws up his eyes, forces himself to blink until his vision doesn’t waver—braces his weight against the tree with a sigh, ready to push himself up—

But Eddie’s hand is suddenly on top of his, halting him.

“Just… wait,” Eddie says. “Just a minute.”

Steve doesn’t know if it is a minute; he tries to keep track in his head, but the seconds slip away from him, and all he can focus on is each breath he takes, until they lose that gasping edge, grow deeper. Slower.

The world sharpens around him, like he’s been underwater without realising and has finally broken through to the surface. He feels the muted scratch of damp wood beneath his palm. The pressure of Eddie’s hand—not enough to hurt, but enough for Steve to tell that he’s still freaked out.

“I’m okay,” he says, looking Eddie in the eye. Does his best to silently project the sentiment of I’m not gonna collapse on you, I promise. “We’re not far from Nancy’s place.”

He can see a flicker of light just ahead, off to the side—thankfully not spots in his vision, just the flashlight he gave to Robin and Nancy; he’d tried to make it sound like he was doing them a favour when he actually thought it’d be best to leave both his hands free, just in case he did end up collapsing. At least he’d have a chance to brace for a fall.

There’s an uncertain air to how the girls are walking, and Steve suspects they feel a little like him: at a loss without the kids sandwiched between them. Now the usual priorities are thrown to the wind; what do you do when you want to shield everyone, all at once?

Eddie’s surveying him like he’s far from convinced by his definition of ‘okay.’

Still, he laughs weakly and says, “Good to know your navigating skills still work in this fucking hellhole.”

Steve’s hand shifts beneath Eddie’s as he stands up properly; it’s only then that Eddie moves away.

“Not far, not far,” he’s muttering under his breath, like he’s trying to reassure himself. His voice cracks in quiet desperation, “God, how long have we even been down here?”

Steve glances down to his wrist. He’s met with a watch face that’s smashed, jagged cracks running through it so he can’t even read the time it must’ve stopped at.

“Hey,” Steve says wryly, tilting his wrist so Eddie can see, “we match.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even crack a smile. His eyes just go all big and dismayed, like he’s looking at something far worse than a broken watch.

Steve suddenly wants to tell him that it’s fine, to cover up his wrist like it’s somehow more gruesome than the wounds on his stomach—maybe it is, because Eddie keeps staring like he’s bleeding out right in front of him.

“Shit, Steve,” Eddie whispers with this horrible, helpless little laugh—almost like he’s on the verge of tears. He sounds like he did after throwing up, trying to say that something was funny when it was anything but. “You’ve had that forever.”

And Steve feels a rush of something still too big and complex to name, flickers of emotion too rapid to keep track of: the initial pang of sadness he’d pushed aside because the watch had been his grandfather’s, after all; wondering faintly what classes Eddie had shared with him, that would allow him enough time to notice something so small, you’ve had that forever—

So what? Steve thinks. So what, what does it fucking matter?

He’d rip the watch off if it’d help, Eddie’s too, stamp and grind them down until they’re indistinguishable from the ash in this place, and who gives a shit if it’s overwrought, it doesn’t have to mean anything—they still have time; they’re owed it.

He doesn’t do any of that, because the ground shakes again, and he’s ready—anticipates the stumble Eddie makes and reaches out to correct it.

They land safely away from any vines.

Eddie’s hand is clamped around his wrist, right at the part where the watch strap used to rub against his skin—back in sophomore year, when he’d always put it on too tight in fear of losing it; “Sorry, sorry,” Eddie’s mouthing, out of breath from the fall, but Steve’s holding on just as tightly, can feel Eddie’s pulse thundering beneath his fingertips.

And it’s so fast and frantic that Steve thinks he can hear it, too, a sound that he can’t get away from, in spite of it all: like a clock ticking. Counting down.

WRIST WATCH The explosive time shackle That never goes off Eternal zero Synchronize your deaths —Philip Murray

#s4 missing scenes we are so back baby #the hike from Skull Rock to Lover’s Lake #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

[startheskelaton]

Baby Kong

#digital art #drawing #illustration #fanart #artists on tumblr #fantasy #art #web comic #legendary godzilla #oc #godzilla kaiju #godzilla king of the monsters #godzilla kotm #godzilla x kong the new empire #godzilla x kong #kong skull island #king kong skull island #monsterverse kong #monstervers #monsterverse godzilla #legendary monsterverse #baby godzilla #baby Kong

[valdotpng]

as i arrive 23 years late to the majoras mask party, i trip and fall and 100 drawings of skull kid fall out of my pockets. his laughter echoes in the distance

(fun fact! all of these were drawn w/ my non-dominant hand. still feels awkward to use it like this, but i think it lends itself well to drawing this lil guy :} )

#tloz #loz #majora's mask #skull kid #link #deku link #tatl #tael #art.png #left-handed drawings #<-making a tag for em #anyways. hes so silly. worlds scariest ipad baby #he makes me so sad i need to give him 1 billion hugs

[maxyvert]

🐟 Mermay 2024 starts now! 🐟

🐟3-4🐟 🐟5-6🐟 🐟7-8🐟 🐟9-10🐟 🐟11-13🐟

#myart #traditional art #digital art #mermay #mermaid #merpeople #mermay 2024 #merfolk #moray eel #eel #skull #pearl #flower #starfish #shell #light blue #baby pink #coral pink #wavy hair #scanned textures

[catladychronicles]

🌞

#babies #meow #cats #cats of tumblr #catladychronicles #mostlycatsmostly #mine #cats of the world #cat brothers #sunbathing #🦵 #🐈 #obi #ani #personal #cáit #name in Gaelic tattooed from my trip to Ireland in 2013 #light saber tattoo #and skull cat #need more tattoos!

[bobokitty]

Skull Island is out, and I'm super happy for the team! Anyways, I had to draw this because like, please tell me this isn't how it goes whenever Charlie brings up girls.

#my art #skull island #skull island netflix #charlie #mike #fanart #mike gives off major baby gay who is in love with their very straight best friend vibes imo #also i adore him

[googledocsdyke]

david tennant should be a controlled age-restricted substance. ingesting performances by david tennant has an impact on young developing brains

#i feel like he shaped my skull as a baby

[jmbringitonworld]

Unexpected Benefits of Becoming a Swamp Witch (1)

AO3 link for those who prefer to read fics there.

I've said in the past that I have absolutely no intention of ever pairing Sans with anyone but Frisk, and I firmly stand by that. BUT, Llamagoddess's Sans, Red and Skull are so different from canon Sans, and her many AUs are so far removed from classic Undertale, that I've always seen them as OCs, from unique worlds that have little to nothing to do with Undertale. And Skull in particular is my favourite. Big, scary boi who's somft for his little waifu? Loving cuddle bug who adores his precious mate to the point of obsession? Giant teddy bear who wants nothing more than to hold his beloved close to his soul forever and ever, and stars help anyone who tries to get in his way? Yes please!!

Also, for all those who've read my fic Good Girl Needs Kiss, well here's that reader MC's infamous mother! It won't have any bearing on the plot, though, and is honestly just my own personal headcanons for that reader MC's parents, but there will be some fun little easter eggs here and there, along with some shared worldbuilding. I've actually got a couple of different ideas for who that witch!reader's father is, so I left him ambiguous, but mama witch has always been fully fleshed-out in my head, and I've finally decided to write about one of my favourite versions of GGNK!Reader's parents, using one of my favourite AUs from Llamagoddess. (Fair warning, MamaWitch!Reader is… kinda bitchy? And I've never written a MC who isn't nice and kind before. It was… interesting)

Again, you can treat this as its own, completely separate story if you want. Totally up to you.

Skull and Forest God AU belong to @llamagoddessofficial

______________________________________________

Chapter 1: Making a Choice

There were three forests for me to choose from. Well, technically there were two forests and a wetland which used to be a forest, but the latter was guarded by an ancient and powerful Forest God, and had plenty of ambient magic for me to tap into, so it was functionally similar to the other forests and would suit my needs just as well. Now, the question was: which of these would be my new home?

I’d been pondering the matter for a few days now, and had yet to decide. All three seemed like viable options, so I would need to carefully examine each one, to determine which of them would be the most suitable home for me. To that end, I’d sent out my two familiars to go investigate each of the forests thoroughly, while I took to the air on my enchanted broomstick, flying over each of the woods, and observing them from above.

I needed to be absolutely sure that I was happy with my final choice, because I wanted this home to be my permanent one. I was tired of having to constantly move, each time I’d get overwhelmed by suitors and harassed by enamoured clients.

This was all Mother’s fault.

I shook off my familiar annoyance, returning my attention to the dense forest canopy beneath me, as I soared over the trees on my broom. Making sure to stay above the treeline, and out of range of the local Forest God’s magic, I peered closely at the landscape whizzing past me down below.

Acres upon acres of tall, leafy, centuries-old trees met my eye, the very vision of a healthy forest. While I couldn’t see below the thick foliage, I could nevertheless hear the wildlife – insects and mammals scurrying, scuttling, and running around, the birds singing and calling to each other, some occasionally flying past me as they travelled from tree to tree.

All signs pointed to this forest being healthy and full of life, clearly well-maintained by its guardian deity. And most importantly for me, well-protected. Exactly what I was looking for. I felt confident that no trespasser with ill intent would be able to reach me, should I decide to settle here. Forest Gods were incredibly protective of their territories, and those inhabiting them, after all. I would finally get some peace.

The forest adjacent to this one was much the same, save for the trees at the very heart being petrified, the air saturated with some of the oldest magic I’d ever come across. An interesting place, for sure, and one well worth studying, should I decide to live there. And should its protector deity grant me safe passage. Most Forest Gods were unwilling to allow mortals to wander too close to their nests, but maybe I’d be able to bargain with this one? It was something to consider, at least.

The final “forest” was far different from the other two. I held a handkerchief over my nose as I flew above miles and miles of dark mud and peat, the horrid stench of death and rot permeating the entire area and practically assaulting my nostrils. It was certainly an unpleasant place, to say the least. I shuddered to imagine just how full of hatred and pain the resident God must be, for his territory to have ended up in such an abysmal state. There had to be a tragic story behind all this, and the dead husks of charred trees, barely visible through the ever-present thick fog, gave me an idea as to what it might be.

Against my will, I felt a pang of sympathy for the poor deity and his ruined home, before forcefully banishing such feelings. I had a mission to see through, and I couldn’t let myself get distracted by useless sentimentality. Life was harsh and cruel, for everyone, and mercy was for the foolish. I couldn’t afford to care about anyone but myself.

I was almost tempted to abandon my observation of the wetland, and give it up as a lost cause, when the land began to change. Dead bog eventually gave way to wet marsh, with cleaner water and richer soil, allowing for life to finally grow. A smile crept onto my face, as I saw plants covering the ground, and animals moving about the undergrowth. A flock of birds even joined me in the air after a while and called out to me, so I followed them deeper into the wetlands.

Finally, I reached the centre of the Wetland God’s domain – a swamp. The water was obviously very deep, but also clean, and full of aquatic life. Including alligators, I noted with interest. There were many fascinating potions I could brew with alligator teeth. Not to mention all of the incredibly rare and valuable swamp plants and herbs which grew in abundance here. My eyes practically sparkled, as I gazed around the misty swamp, my interest renewed.

There were also a great many trees, as expected of a Forest God’s domain – truly massive trees, their trunks thick and their branches wide, housing innumerable birds, mammals, reptiles, and insects. Something like hope sparked in my chest, but I was probably just imagining it. Still, it was very encouraging to see that the heart of this wetland was overflowing with life and magic, in spite of the desolate wasteland which surrounded it. A Forest God’s home should always be full of life.

As I was hovering beside the largest tree in the swamp, my eyes happened to spot a big, circular, red light shining in the mist. It almost resembled a giant eye, looking directly at me and seeming to stare straight into my soul. As if noticing my gaze, the eerie eye widened, its red light becoming brighter, and I felt the magic in the air shift. I took that as my cue to leave. I’d seen enough, anyway. No point lingering here and risk incurring the wrath of the Wetland God.

 But as I flew away, a loud, mournful cry rang out behind me, echoing through the air and shaking the leaves on the trees below. Startled, I urged my broom to fly faster, and the cry eventually faded away into the distance. However, the haunting sound still lingered in my mind, along with that glowing, red eyelight.

Was that the Wetland God?

~~~

The following day, I arrived at the nearby town. It was fairly average in both size and appearance, but was nonetheless bustling with activity, and travellers and residents alike were milling around, going about their busy lives. I drew my cloak tighter around myself, and quickly made my way to the nearest inn.

Upon reaching my destination, I was greeted by a young woman, probably the innkeeper’s daughter, judging by the family photo hanging on the wall behind her. Her face lit up when I removed my travelling cloak, revealing myself to her, and she gave me a wide, vapid smile she probably thought was charming, and asked me if I was looking to rent a room. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes at her stupid question, because why else would I be here, I gave her a beguiling smile and seductively leaned in closer to her as I answered her.

“Why yes, I am. Would a sweet thing like you happen to have a room for a weary traveller such as myself? I’ve walked such a long way to get here, and I could really use a rest in a nice, comfy bed. I’d be so grateful to you if you could spare me a room, beautiful,” I’d lowered my voice to a smooth, silky drawl, and my honeyed words clearly had the effect I’d intended, given the way her eyes were glued to my lips, and how her breathing quickened.

She swallowed, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks, and smiled shyly at me. She then practically fell over herself to offer me one of the nicest rooms they had, at a generous discount. I held back a derisive snort. It was pathetic, really, how easily swayed she was by my supernaturally good looks and enchanting voice. This was nothing new, of course, but it still sickened me each time it happened. It was then just a simple matter of making tedious small talk with her for bit, before I finally steered the conversation towards the topic I’d been most interested in: the three magical forests.

For such an insipid creature, she was at the very least decently knowledgeable about the surrounding forests, and gave me all the information she had on them and their Gods. Much of it I’d already seen for myself, but it was useful to have confirmation from someone who’d actually lived in the area her whole life. She also confirmed my suspicions about the Wetland.

I didn’t have to feign genuine interest, as I listened to her tale of the God of the Black Wetland. Apparently, centuries ago, the Wetland used to be a beautiful forest, whose deity was relatively peaceful. But a group of humans from the nearby village wanted to clear it and weren’t happy with how he drove loggers away, so they took it upon themselves to burn the whole forest to the ground in one go. And they succeeded. In his rage, the Forest God killed the humans and flooded the entire area, including the village, transforming the landscape into an ugly, black bog.

From then on, he was known as the God of the Black Wetland, and had become a terrifying force of nature, who dragged anyone foolish enough to wander off the path, and into his domain, to a horrible, muddy and watery grave. The girl’s expression turned serious, as she warned me to avoid the Black Bog, and that if I absolutely had to go through there, that I should stick to the path at all costs. And should the fog begin to thicken, and I heard a bell ringing, then I needed to stay low, hold my breath, and pray that he didn’t see me.

I tried to look suitably fearful as I thanked her for her advice, while internally, I thought that anyone who was stupid enough to trespass on the territory of a Forest God whose home had been destroyed, deserved their fate. There was not a witch alive who would dare enter a God’s domain, without first being granted permission to do so. It was only common courtesy, after all. To disrespect a Forest God, was to invite calamity upon oneself, as my mother had once told me.

When I had gleaned all that I could from the girl, I thanked her with practised politeness, ignoring her flirting with the ease of habit, and made my way to my room. Upon reaching it, I went inside, locked the door behind me, and gave the place a casual glance. It was decently spacious, with a neatly-made bed, a desk, and a few shelves lining the walls. There was a window on one wall, which I went to open, casting a quick spell on the sill, to ensure that no one but myself and my familiars could enter through it.

That done, I tossed my bag on the desk, and collapsed onto the bed with a tired sigh. The bag landed with an inordinately loud * thump *, and the flap fell open, spilling several of my magical tools and arcane instruments across the desk, including a human skull. The skull rolled across the wooden surface, until it came to a stop by the edge, its dark, empty eye sockets staring right at me.

I glared at the skull. “This is all your fault, Mother.”

The skull didn’t answer me, of course. Not that I expected it to. I still had yet to perform the ancient ritual to bind Mother’s spirit to her skull, so that she could communicate with me from the afterlife. I just wasn’t ready to talk to her yet. I wasn’t sure I ever would be. I had a very... complicated relationship with her, after all.

My mother had been an incredibly powerful witch, supposedly the greatest mage of her generation. Her outstanding talents had won her the respect and admiration of her peers, few in number though they were, but had earned her the fear and hatred of the general populace. Not surprising, though, considering ordinary humans feared magic. Enough to have sealed away all of monsterkind underground, long ago. If mages, such as my mother, were not so useful to the common folk, perhaps we would’ve met the same fate as well. Perhaps one day we still might.

It was that very fear which had led my mother to cast numerous powerful enchantments on me, while I was still in her womb. All with the singular goal of making me as beautiful and desirable as possible. Mother had believed that if I were especially attractive, I would win the hearts of the non-magicals, and they would never turn on me or shun me as they had her.

And she’d succeeded. I was, by all accounts, visually stunning, with looks that turned heads wherever I went. Men and women from all around flocked to see me, showering me with gifts and compliments, in the hopes of earning my favour. There was not a single person who had anything but the most effervescent praise for my beauty.

And I hated it.

Because while I had indeed managed to catch the eye of every person I met, I despised such meaningless attention with a burning passion. Humans were nothing but shallow, despicable beings, and I very quickly grew to loathe their cloying desires and worthless, empty affections. None of these mindless fools truly cared about me, not a one bothered to see past my outward appearance, and look for the real me, inside.

And yet still they hounded me, harassed me, haunted me, begging for my attention like baying dogs. They kept insisting on throwing themselves at me, no matter how many times I threw them back out. It was tiresome. Tedious. I’d finally had enough of it, and decided to find a new home, in the territory of a protective Forest God, like many witches tended to do. Hopefully that would be enough to keep all of the nuisances away.

Perhaps I could’ve chosen to conceal my features, or disguised myself, maybe even tried to alter my appearance to something more ordinary. But I refused to hide or change myself. Why should I? I may not have chosen this body or this face, but they were nonetheless mine , and I would not hide them away just because of how other people reacted to them.

Besides, my mother had gone to a great deal of effort to give me these looks. And while I despised them, and resented her for what she’d done to me... I understood, at least on an intellectual level, why she’d done so. It would be unforgivably ungrateful of me to throw away all of her hard work. I was many things, but I wasn’t ungrateful. Not to my mother, the woman who’d given birth to me, raised me by herself, and taught me all she knew.

Therefore, instead of hiding my beauty, I chose to make use of it instead. If I were forced to suffer the consequences of my appearance, then I was determined to reap the benefits of it as well. And there certainly were many of those. People were such shallow, superficial creatures, after all. So easy to manipulate. It was child’s play, really.

But I wasn’t content to simply take advantage of my mother’s achievement. No, I had far grander ambitions than that.

Instead, I resolved to cultivate my own magical talents, and become a witch even greater than Mother, so that my powers and abilities would be my most notable trait, and all that anyone would talk about, rather than my physical appearance. I’d devoted myself to mastering witchcraft, and was proud to say that I was quite the accomplished mage and alchemist. I don’t know if I ever managed to surpass my mother, though. She died some years ago, all alone in her quiet little cottage in the woods.

I went back to my childhood home to give her a proper funeral, burying her in our ancestors’ sacred burial grounds, and taking her skull with me, as was tradition. I gathered all of her belongings, keeping those I found useful, disposing of or selling those I did not. A pitiful end for someone so infamous and talented.

Quietly, I rose from the bed and went over to the desk. With gentle hands, I picked up my mother’s skull and placed it on top of a nearby shelf, where those empty sockets could stare out at the entire room. My fingers lingered on the skull, tracing the edges of its mouth. Mother rarely ever smiled. I wondered if she’d ever known happiness, even once in her entire life...

I shook my head, dismissing such pointless thoughts. It was my own happiness I should focus on now. Which meant finding a suitable home. And to do that, I would need to find out more about all three forests. I looked towards the window. The sun was high in the sky; there was plenty of time to ask around and get the opinions of the locals who knew the forests the best. With that plan in mind, I left the room, locking the door behind me, and placing another spell on it to ward off intruders.

~~~

For the next several hours, I walked through the town, questioning people here and there, and listening in on the local gossip. It was mostly about some unwary travellers getting lost in the Black Bog a couple of weeks ago. They’d still not found the bodies, and no one was willing to go further into the bog to look for them, for fear of encountering the God of the Wetlands. Cowards, the lot of them. But I supposed that I couldn’t really blame them. I wouldn’t risk my life either, to go looking for fools too stupid to live.

As I passed by the local tavern, I heard raucous laughter coming from inside. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. I lifted an eyebrow as I sensed ancient, wild magic coming from within the tavern, the kind of magic that definitely didn’t belong in the middle of a human settlement. The kind of magic I’d sensed just the other day. Curious, I opened the door and peeked inside.

The tavern was surprisingly busy for this time of day, and there was a large crowd by the bar, louder and rowdier than they had any right to be before sundown. I hovered by the door, hesitant to go in any further with so many noisy people inside. I hated crowds- well, I hated people , really, but crowds were a special kind of dreadful I tried my best to avoid. I pulled the cowl of my cloak lower on my head, as I discreetly looked around for the source of the forest magic.

My eyes soon met a pair of bright, red ones. I blinked, taken aback. The red eyes were set in a handsome, seemingly human face, but I wasn’t fooled by the illusion. Any witch worth her salt would be able to sense the aura of a Forest God from a mile away, and I’d already flown over the forest belonging to this one just yesterday. I recognised him for what he was instantly.

The disguised deity looked equally surprised to see me. His red eyes widened, with what I could almost assume was recognition, before they roved across my form, something disturbingly familiar flashing in them, as they traced along my face. I couldn’t hold back my sneer, revulsion bubbling up within me like molten magma. He was... interested in me! Not in exactly the same way humans were, perhaps, but close enough to make me want to hex him.

It was with no small amount of distaste that I noticed how he was the centre of attention, with all eyes turned towards him, and everyone smiling and laughing at his crude jokes, all of the patrons hanging onto his every word. Several pretty ladies were even pressed up against him, giggling like they hadn’t a thought in their heads but to share his bed, and the arms curled around them only seemed to encourage their pathetic simpering.

Bitter disappointment welled up within me. I had thought that Forest Gods were above such abhorrent behaviour. It seemed I was wrong. They were just as susceptible to human weaknesses and mortal failings, as any other miserable worm on this planet.

The disgrace of a Forest God shot me a roguish wink, which I returned with the most hateful glare I was capable of, endeavouring to put every ounce of disgust I felt for him into the look, and causing his grin to falter. Without hesitation, I turned my back to him and strode out of the tavern. I heard a deep, masculine voice call out to me, but I slammed the door on it, shutting out that nonsense forever.

~~~

When I returned to my room, I immediately took out the sheet of paper containing the information I’d gathered on the three forests, and furiously crossed out everything pertaining to the forest governed by the shameful wretch I’d seen in the tavern. I would never live in his domain, I vowed to myself.

Luckily, I still had two other forests to choose from. I desperately prayed that their Gods were more respectable than this one. But I would need to know more about them to ascertain that. Hopefully, my familiars had been able to properly explore both of the forests, and would be able to help me figure out which one would be the best choice for my new home.

As if on cue, a brown owl glided soundlessly through the open window, and landed on top of Mother’s skull, followed shortly by a black cat, padding her way through the shadows towards me, before stretching out her lithe body across my bed.

“Artemis,” the cat blinked her eyes slowly at me in greeting, “Hermes,” the owl bowed his head respectfully to me, “I’ve ruled out the forest of the Red God as a possibility. Forget about that one. So, what have you two found out about the other two?”

Artemis tossed her head back and yowled at me. All that time... wasted! Should’ve let me know... sooner... her voice echoed through my head.

I rolled my eyes, well used to her whining. Missy was such a diva. If I didn’t love her so much, I would’ve dispelled the enchantment allowing us to communicate telepathically, long ago.

Hermes, on the other hand, merely bowed his head to me once more, acknowledging my orders, before launching into his report. The Green Forest is full of life. Trees. Mushrooms. Moss. Prey. Not prey. Predators. Fae. Spirits. Magic. Lots of magic.

Artemis flicked her tail. Lots of... interesting smells... plenty of food... so many good places... to nap...

I snorted, shaking my head lightly. Of course Missy would only focus on the things she would enjoy. At least Hermes was more helpful.

“And what of its resident Forest God?” I asked them.

Hermes’s reply came swiftly. Always moving. Always roaming. Always protecting. Only still at the heart. Stone trees. Old magic. Soft moss. Cold. Quiet. Clear.

Hmm... So he too enjoyed his peace and quiet? Looks like we might actually be able to get along. I felt the spark of hope ignite in my chest at the thought.

Artemis stretched out her front paws, kneading the bed covers beneath her. He put colourful bottles... in the trees... they cast pretty shadows... for me to chase...

I hummed to myself, going over what they’d told me in my head and adding it to the information I’d already collected. So far, this forest seemed promising. But I couldn’t be too hasty with my decision. Besides, there was also the other one to consider.

I turned to my two familiars. “And what about the Black Wetlands?”

Surprisingly, Artemis was the first to answer me, as she let out an angry hiss, her tail flicking to and fro in agitation. Smells bad... So wet! *Hiss* The mud gets stuck... in my fur... on my paws... hate it...

I gave her a sympathetic look, going over to her to run my fingers through her silky, pitch-black fur in a comforting caress. She pressed her head into my hand and began purring.

Hermes clicked his beak in annoyance, but made no further protest. Instead, he drew himself up imperiously, and puffed out his chest feathers. On the edge there’s only Black bog. Burnt trees. Foul water. Dead. All dead. But closer to the heart there’s more life. More green. Less black. The heart is swamp. Tall trees. Deep water. Many animals. Lots of life. Lots of magic.

I nodded to myself. I’d observed much the same myself.

Artemis sneezed. Didn’t see... couldn’t get past... the nasty mud.. .

I smiled at her in reassurance. “That’s all right, Missy, I know you tried your best. I’m very proud of you.”

When Hermes clicked his beak again, I turned my smile towards him. “And thank you for your diligence, Hermes! I’m so glad I can always count on you.”

The tan owl puffed out his feathers again, preening at my praise. Always, Mistress .

Artemis gave him an unimpressed look, her ears twitching. Thankfully, she turned away from him without comment. I let out a quiet sigh of relief, glad that an argument hadn’t broken out between them. Again.

Wanting to get the conversation back on track, I cleared my throat. “So then, what’s the Forest- uh, the Wetland God like?”

Hermes tilted his head to the side. Angry.

He then tilted his head to the other side. Very angry .

I frowned. “I don’t blame him. His entire forest was burnt to the ground by humans centuries ago, after all. He pretty much lost everything. I’d be absolutely livid myself, if I were him.”

Artemis curled up once more on the bed, tucking her paws underneath her and wrapping her tail around herself. He’s not just angry... and vengeful... and full of hate... Birds came to me... and told me... he’s lonely... very lonely...

Her words made me recall the loud, mournful wail I’d heard that morning. That probably was him, then, calling out to me. I’d initially thought it was a warning, to chase away intruders, but now I suspected it might’ve been the opposite. Was the Wetland God actually... upset that I’d left? Was he, maybe, calling out for me, asking me to come back? It seemed ludicrous, honestly. He was an ancient and powerful Forest God, whose mind and heart were unknowable to mortals, whereas I was a mere human, albeit a magical one. And yet, now that I really thought about it, I realised that he’d actually sounded sad... really sad...

My thoughts were interrupted by Hermes’s voice ringing in my head. Which forest will you choose, Mistress?

“Hmm... Good question.” My brows furrowed as I paced back and forth across the small, rented room, my head bowed in deep thought as I mulled over both my options.

The Green Forest was the obvious choice. A lush, vibrant forest, teeming with life, and guarded by a fairly peaceful deity, who mostly kept to himself. The ideal home for a solitary witch seeking to hone her craft. Definitely more appealing than a misty swamp, surrounded by sickly, smelly bog, and patrolled by an unstable, vengeful Old God.

My decision should’ve been clear. And yet...

…  he’s lonely... very lonely...

Missy’s words wouldn’t leave my mind, despite my best efforts to chase them away. What should it matter to me if some Wetland God was lonely? His problems were not mine, his pain was not mine, his loneliness was not mine.

…  he’s lonely... very lonely...

Without conscious thought, my eyes found the hollow sockets of my mother’s skull. She’d been lonely as well, for most of her life. And she’d died lonely, too. Had she ever cried out for someone, anyone, to help her, only for nobody to come? Had she ever cried out for me?... Had the Wetland God?

…  he’s lonely... very lonely...

I went to my satchel, still splayed open across the desk, and took out a small, glass orb. It wasn’t anything special, had no magical properties whatsoever, and was nothing more than a cheap, simple ball made out of coloured glass, pretty, but ultimately useless. Something I was determined to never be. The only reason I even had this orb, was because it had once belonged to my mother.

She’d had many such trinkets, scattered throughout her house, but this one was her favourite. As a child, I’d often caught her gazing into the orb, lost in thought. I’d asked her why she did so, despite the orb having no practical use, and she’d told me that looking at it helped her to focus, as she pondered whatever problem occupied her mind at the time. I’d once jokingly called it her “Orb of Pondering”, and she’d given me one of her rare smiles. I guess it wasn’t so useless after all.

I now gazed into the orb myself, as I pondered my own current predicament. Which shouldn’t have even been a predicament in the first place. The choice should’ve been an easy one to make. The answer should’ve been plain for all to see. I should’ve just picked the Green Forest and been done with this deliberation. I would have an easier, simpler life there. My familiars would be happier there. It was beautiful. Untainted. Perfect.

…  he’s lonely... very lonely...

With a resigned sigh, I lowered Mother’s orb and turned towards my familiars, still patiently awaiting my final decision. Plastering my brightest smile on my face, I forced as much enthusiasm into my voice as I could, as I told them, “You know, I think becoming a swamp witch sounds like a lot of fun!”

Predictably, Artemis was none too happy with my answer, and yowled out her displeasure for all the world to hear. Hermes, however, merely bowed his head obediently, accepting my decision without complaint.

As I tried my best to appease my feline familiar with chin scratches, I silently wondered if I had made the right choice. I hoped that I would not come to regret it.

~~~

The next morning, I woke up bright and early to carry out my preparations for obtaining the Wetland God’s permission to reside in his domain. For starters, I wrote up a letter explaining my request, making sure to keep my tone and words as respectful and humble as possible, and providing many reassurances of good behaviour, all while avoiding making any outright promises. You could never be too careful with Old Gods. I then imbued the letter with my magic and my intent, so that the ancient deity would be able to sense my sincerity for himself, as well as get a feel for my character before we officially met.

Once I was satisfied that the letter was properly saturated in my magic, I handed it to Hermes, informing him of its contents, just in case the Wetland God was unable or unwilling to read it, and instructed the owl to deliver it directly to its intended recipient as swiftly as possible, and to return only once he’d received a definitive answer. Hermes dutifully bowed his head, took the letter very delicately in his beak, and flew off into the sky.

Afterwards, it was only too easy to charm the inn’s cook into letting me borrow his kitchen for a few hours. He’d tried to remain close to me, invading my personal space under the guise of “helping” me, but a threatening hiss and swipe of her paw from Artemis were enough to get the filth away from me. The black cat remained curled around my shoulders, fixing her large, golden eyes on the nuisance and occasionally flexing her sharp claws at him, to keep him a safe distance away from me as I worked.

I wasn’t sure what offerings the Wetland God would enjoy, but most Forest Gods were not averse to homecooked food, and most Fae had quite the sweet tooth, with a particular fondness for honey, so I decided to bake him a large honey cake, with buttercream icing and a honey drizzle. It was something my mother had often baked for the Forest God whose territory she resided in, and she’d taught me the recipe as a child. It was one of my happier memories with her.

The rich, sugary smell which soon filled the kitchen brought on a wave of nostalgia. Instead of quashing the feelings, as I normally did, I allowed myself to reminisce for a while. My childhood home was always filled with the most interesting aromas, whether it was food, potions, or magical residue from the spells Mother cast. She really was quite the talented witch. I’d learned so much from her.

When the cake was done, I wrapped it up neatly, placing an enchantment on it to keep it warm and fresh, and carefully packed it away in my carry bag. That done, I changed into formal sorcerer’s robes, and spent some time preening in front of the mirror, to ensure that I looked as presentable as possible. I wanted to make a good first impression, after all, and while it was unlikely that my human appearance would be able to sway a Forest God’s opinion, it didn’t hurt to look my best. Besides, old habits died hard.

Finally, all that was left to do was to pack up all of my belongings. Hermes returned as I was putting away Mother’s skull, and informed me that the Wetland God had accepted my request. Instantly. Gladly. Very gladly. In fact, he seemed positively giddy about me coming to live in his domain. Well, that was... a surprise. But a welcome one, to be sure. Better than the alternative, anyway. I guess he really must’ve been very lonely, for him to be so excited for some company. It gave me hope that the two of us might be able to have an amicable relationship.

My lips subconsciously tugged up into a smile, as I pet Hermes’s tan feathers, my mind on the Wetland God. I’d never had a friend before. My familiars didn’t count, they were bonded to me and my magic for the rest of our shared lives – they were practically an extension of myself. I looked forward to getting to know my new ‘landlord’. Quietly, privately, in the depths of my heart, I hoped that he would grow to like me. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who was lonely...

When everything was packed up and put away, Artemis draped herself around my shoulders once more, her tail curling lightly around my neck, like a black, fluffy necklace. Hermes perched himself on the crooked tip of my tall, pointed, witch’s hat, his head constantly swivelling around to survey his surroundings, ever watchful, ever alert. I gave the room a once-over, checking that I’d gathered everything, and made my exit.

I didn’t check out of the inn just yet, however. I needed a safe place to return to, on the off chance that things turned sour with the Wetland God. You could never be too careful, after all, and it always paid to have contingency plans for every possibility. Better to be safe than sorry.

Once I’d found a clear spot, I took out my broom, sat myself on it, and kicked off the ground, shooting through the sky like a comet. With the wind rushing past me, and my robes billowing behind me, I left the town and made my way towards my new home and the beginning of my new life.

~~~

I landed on the very edge of the bog. Getting off my broom, I kept it firmly in one hand, ready to get back on it and fly away at the first hint of danger. I took a deep breath and instantly regretted it, as a rotten stench assailed my nose. Coughing and spluttering, I retrieved my handkerchief and covered my nose as best as I could, trying to breathe through my mouth. Around my neck, Artemis grumbled irritably, her furry lips pulled back in a grimace at the foul smell in the air.

Not wanting to spend any longer here than necessary, I stepped foot inside the bog.

The place was even creepier from the ground than it was from the sky. Dark, viscous mud covered the ground, save for the patches of slimy, black water dotted here and there, with only the gnarled, dead trees managing to rise up from the sludge. Mosquitos seemed to be the only creatures living in the bog, their constant buzzing the only sound I could hear, apart from the squelching of my boots as I trudged through the mud. It was also difficult to see anything past the thick fog blanketing the entire area.

The whole place was like something straight out of a nightmare. It was a rather daunting experience, honestly. But I knew that it got better. I just needed to press on and stay determined.

And so, I kept walking, keeping to the well-trodden path and the narrow wooden walkways, all while keeping my eyes and ears open for any sign of the Wetland God. Occasionally, I flared out my magic, just to let any extramundane entities who might be nearby know that I was here. After a short while of doing so, I felt an answering burst of ancient, otherworldly magic, far, far in the distance, coming from the centre of the wetlands. I paused. Then it came again, slightly closer.

The God of the Black Wetland knew I was here. And he was coming towards me. Hopefully to give me a friendly greeting, and not to chase me away. Or worse.

I stayed still, drawing my cloak tighter around myself to ward off the chill in the air, and cast my eyes around warily, as I waited for the deity to arrive with bated breath. I didn’t have to wait long.

Soon, the fog began to thicken, until I could barely see past my own nose, and distantly, faintly, I could hear the gentle chiming of bells, steadily getting louder. I stood up straighter, my heart racing in anticipation, and gripped my broom tighter. Both of my familiars were equally on high alert, ready to react at a moment’s notice.

Suddenly, the shadows began to shift, something moving through the fog, something truly massive. I held my breath, my heart pounding in my ears, as the figure finally came into view, the fog parting around him.

It was, without doubt, a Forest God, although one unlike any I’d ever seen before. While the others I’d known had all had bodies more or less closely resembling various animals, this one had a gigantic, stocky body, with a solid, downward sloping spine with jagged vertebrae, and long, thick, straight legs like tree trunks, clearly designed for wading through mud and water. Its head was a huge dog skull, sporting enormous moose antlers, wider than I was tall.

What really caught my attention, though, was the large, red eye glowing in the skull’s left eye socket. It was the same eyelight I’d seen the other day, in the swamp. That red eyelight was now fixed unwaveringly on me.

I swallowed, gathered my courage and addressed the ancient and powerful deity staring right at me. “Greetings, oh Wetland God. I am the one who sent you the letter this morning – the witch seeking to make her home in your swamp, with your permission. It is an honour to meet you, Old One.”

That crimson stare intensified. “ i know you... ” I gave a start as a deep, rumbling voice issued forth from the Old God, harsh, halting, and seeming almost rusty from disuse. “ i saw you... before... but you left.. .” The red eyelight shook, shrinking, before expanding once more, to take up the entire socket. “ i was so... so happy... when i got your letter... i recognised... your magic... your scent... ” The red light got brighter, lighting up the entire area like a blazing fire. “ you will stay with me... your owl said... that you’ll stay with me... you WILL stay with me... right?... forever... right?... ”

I nodded hesitantly. “That’s the idea, yes. I hope to make this place my home. My forever home, if you will.”

The Wetland God made a low, bellowing sound, followed by a couple of sharp trills, his colossal body swaying slightly. Bygone magic filled the air, buzzing against my skin, and making the hairs on my arms and on the back of my neck stand on end. Small strands of green began sprouting up from the mud, and the murky water started to clear. A few tiny blossoms even popped up along the deity’s legs and antlers.

While I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of such a reaction, I took it as a good sign. I was at least confident that the God wasn’t displeased with my presence here. If anything, the magic saturating the air was tinged with what felt distinctly like excitement. Definitely a good sign.

I cleared my throat. “I take it that I am welcome here, then. If so, would you be so kind as to let me know where I am permitted to make my home?”

In response, the towering being lowered his head to the ground in front of me. “ i will... take you home... ”

I blinked, not certain if I’d heard him right, or if I was misunderstanding his intention. “Do you mean for me to... climb onto your head?”

“ yes... ” came his reply, not even a hint of hesitation in his voice. Unlike mine, which was filled with uncertainty, as I nodded to him, “As you... wish.”

I was far from comfortable getting so close to such an incredibly old and powerful deity, but I wasn’t about to refuse a direct order from him. With slow and tentative movements, I climbed on top of his massive skull and sat myself in between those wide and solid antlers.

When he was sure that I was securely sat on his head, the Wetland God very gently lifted his skull, seeming to take great care to not jostle me about, as he straightened up and carefully strode off through the bog. His gait was surprisingly steady, despite the deep mud he was wading through, and my ride was pleasantly smooth.

It was quite the novel experience. I’d never heard of a Forest God allowing a mere mortal to actually ride on them, like some common beast of burden. It was a great honour, honestly, and I made sure to savour every second of it. I’d likely never get another opportunity like this again, so I had to make the most of this one while it lasted.

Leaning forward slightly, I placed a hand on the surface of the skull, taking a brief moment to appreciate the cool and smooth bone-like texture of the God’s head, before addressing him. “Mighty Wetland God, I wish to thank you for allowing me to live in your domain. I will endeavour to never make you regret your decision. And I sincerely hope that the two of us will get along well.”

His crimson eyelight seemed to fuzz around the edges, and I watched in amazement as a soft, pink hue spread across his muzzle. Was... was he blushing ? He couldn’t be, surely. That was impossible... Right?

“ i would never regret... you living with me... ” he sounded completely sure of himself. I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering where such confidence came from. “ and i promise... to make you happy... here... with me... ” I sucked in a sharp breath at his vow, feeling completely bewildered as to why a Forest God would make such a promise, and to a mortal, some human he’d only just met. What, by the stars , was this deity thinking?

I cleared my throat, trying to calm my racing thoughts and keep a cool head. “I’m, uh, incredibly flattered by your... kindness. Thank you, My Lord.”

“ ... skull... ”

My brows furrowed at the seemingly random word. “Skull?”

His definitely-not-a-blush darkened slightly, spreading further across his snout. “ yes... ” he told me, his voice deep and heavy, yet quiet and almost shy. “ that’s my... my name... ”

I exhaled heavily, something like awe flowing through me. I could hardly believe my ears. Had a Forest God really just given me his name? That was... that was... unexpected , to put it mildly. Old Gods did not give out their names lightly – it was a privilege, one which you had to earn. So for this one to simply volunteer his name, without my even having to ask it of him...

I stared at the top of his skull in disbelief. Why? Why would he do such a thing? I wasn’t anyone important. Not to an Old God, at least. So then, why would he give me his name so freely? What had I done to deserve such an honour?

As I puzzled over these questions, the scenery began to change, from bog to marsh. I frowned in confusion. Wasn’t the bog far wider than this? Why had we already reached the marsh? This was too soon. We should still have been wading through several more miles of barren wasteland.

And then my eyes fell upon an even more startling sight.

What had only recently been waterlogged soil, was now practically a flower garden. Thousands of tiny, colourful, low-lying marsh flowers spread out as far as the eye could see, interspersed with twisting, winding, glittering waterways.

As I watched in stunned silence, I noticed more and more flowers blossoming. I could also sense just how steeped in Life Magic the earth was, encouraging the growth of plants and causing flowers to bloom every second. Even the wildlife was benefitting from the ancient magics, as more and more birds flocked to the marsh, and more fish and amphibians swam in the crystal-clear waters.

Life was well and truly returning to the wetlands.

I was astonished at such a dramatic transformation, in such a short amount of time. “Skull... This is incredible... What happened here since I last saw it?”

Skull came to a stop, allowing me to admire the natural beauty surrounding us. Several birds flew closer, clearly with the intent of landing on the Wetland God’s antlers, but Hermes spread his wings wide and screeched threateningly at them, and they flew away in a hurry.

“ i wanted to... make our home nicer... for you... you deserve... a nice home... ” I wanted to gape at him, but managed to restrain myself. Then his voice lowered, a hint of shame leaking into it “ i’m sorry... you saw it... so ugly... so sick... i’m trying hard... to make it better... for you... ”

I was speechless for a while, as my brain struggled to process what I’d heard. Had Skull been terraforming his domain since he received my letter? Or maybe even, ever since he first saw me? That... that was... “Wow. I-I don’t know what to say... Thank you, Skull. You did an amazing job. The place looks beautiful. And very lively.”

Skull made a pleased sound, the ambient magic fairly thrumming with its Wetland God’s joy, and several more tiny flowers bloomed on the deity’s horns. Skull then resumed his walk, taking us further into the heart of his territory, until we eventually reached the very centre.

The swamp at the heart of the wetlands hadn’t changed since I was last here. Not surprising, considering it was likely a lot older than the rest of the wetlands, and would therefore take more time to change. But it was still an impressive sight.

Alligators swam alongside us, eyeing me curiously, and Skull rumbled something to them in a language I couldn’t understand. Whatever it was, it seemed to have made them happy, given their own, excited rumblings. More birds flew closer, and were again scared off by Hermes.

I rolled my eyes in fond exasperation at how territorial my owl familiar was of me. I was his home and his family, and he would allow no other bird near me. Artemis, meanwhile, remained curled around my neck and shoulders, glaring at the alien landscape, and grumbling about the humidity and the bizarre odours.

The sun was starting to set, tinting the enveloping mists in soft hues of pink and orange. Fireflies had also begun to appear, gradually filling the air with their tiny lights. I could hear the croaking of frogs, the buzzing of insects, and the singing of birds, all blending together with the sloshing of water, in a mesmerising harmony of sounds. I couldn’t help but sit back and listen to the song of the swamp.

It was all wonderfully atmospheric. Romantic, even. I snorted lightly, dismissing the ridiculous thought. Romance had no place in my life.

We finally came to a stop in front of what had to be the biggest tree in the whole swamp, standing at the very centre of the entire Wetland. It really was a giant among trees, taller and wider than any other I’d ever seen, stretching so high into the sky, I couldn’t see the top. A hollow had formed inside it, rising above the water level, and wide enough that I suspected even Skull might be able to fit inside, if he curled himself up.

There was a lip of wood at the entrance of the hollow, and it was to there that I hopped, when Skull lowered his head, a clear indication that I should disembark.

Inside the hollow, I found it lined with piles of pillows and blankets, and heaps of little trinkets. The entire alcove smelled of fur and incense, and even faintly of beeswax. It looked... cosy. Surprisingly cosy, and homey. Did someone live here?

I turned towards Skull, who was stood just outside the hollow, staring at me intently. “What is this place? Where did all this stuff come from?”

The corners of Skull’s jaws raised up in something resembling a smile. “ my nest... ” my eyebrows fairly flew into my hairline at that shocking revelation. I could never have guessed that the Wetland God would take me to his nest . But Skull wasn’t done blindsiding me yet. “ now OUR nest... i tried to make it better... for you... i added softer... and prettier blankets... and pillows... all for you... my lovely wife... ”

I choked on my spit at that last word. “W-Wife?!” my voice rang out in a strangled yell. My mind came crashing to a halt, because seriously... I must have misheard him. Surely he hadn’t meant to call me his wife .

But Skull only smiled wider, blushing once more, and nodded his massive head. “ yes... my wife... my lovely, little wife... my darling mate... ”

I thought my heart was about to stop. I could barely breath, as thoughts rushed through my head at breakneck speed, my brain desperately trying to come up with some kind of explanation for Skull’s inconceivable behaviour. Just how had he come to believe that I was his wife ? Had I done something, anything which could’ve led the Wetland God to think me his mate? I wracked my mind for any kind of plausible reason for this huge misunderstanding, but could find none.

“ so small... so soft... so pretty... such a sweet smell... such strong magic... ”

Had Hermes in any way intimated such a thing to Skull when they’d spoken? As soon as the thought came, I dismissed it. No, my loyal owl familiar would’ve followed my instructions to the letter. He was dutiful to a fault, and would never go against my orders, or do anything that wasn’t strictly in my best interests. And he rarely, if ever, acted on his own initiative, more content to await my commands. He would never have so much as implied, to the Wetland God, that I was interested in being anything more than a simple resident of his domain.

A noise rumbled from deep within Skull’s chest, one that sounded disturbingly like a purr. “ i’m so happy... you came... i’m so happy... you accepted me... i’m so... so happy... ”

And he sounded it, too. I glanced up at him, taking in his undeniably joyful countenance. He definitely looked happy, too. I bit my lip. This... this was a disaster. This unstable Forest God, whose home I was to live in, was woefully mistaken as to the nature of our relationship. As such, I would need to correct his misconception, immediately.

I braced myself and opened my mouth-

“ i knew... from the moment... our eyes met... that you were... the one... ” Skull’s voice rumbled like boulders tumbling down a mountain, and yet there was something... soft in the way he spoke to me. Something tender, and warm. Something I’d never heard from anyone else before.

“ the one... i’d been waiting for... all my life... ” The blood-red glow of his eyelight softened, the pupil at its centre becoming heart-shaped, as Skull’s gaze remained fixed on me, never wavering for even a second. It was a look I’d never seen before. One full of awe and adoration. Skull looked at me as if I was the most precious thing in his world. “ i was... so lonely... but not anymore... not now that... i have you... ”

He sighed, a warm gust of wind which rustled my robes and tousled my hair. “ i’m so happy... that you’re here... with me... ” He let out a sharp trill, ending in a deep purr. “ i promise... to make you... happy too... i want you... to love me... as much as... i love you... my mate... ”

I stared at Skull’s loving face, his gaze so full of affection, for me. My mouth was still open, ready to deny being his mate and clear up this whole mess. “I-I... can’t wait...!” was what came out instead. I winced, mentally kicking myself for saying something so stupid.

Skull’s expression brightened. His purring intensifying, he leaned his head close and pressed the end of his snout against me. “ my wife... my mate... so warm... so soft... i love you... so much... ”

And instead of doing anything even remotely sensible, such as telling this deranged deity that I was most certainly not his wife, I just lifted my hands up to his head, and ran my hands all along his hard muzzle, petting his skull as if he were an overgrown puppy.

As Skull continued to purr, making low, muffled sounds of contentment, the magic around him hummed and shuddered, causing tiny flowers to bloom all around us. I shivered, as the Wetland God’s ancient magic brushed up against me, like a cat demanding attention, and released my own magic into the air, allowing it to mingle with his. Skull purred louder, the vibrations sinking into my very bones. Admittedly, it was actually quite a pleasant sensation.

I sighed. Oh well... This wasn’t an entirely terrible situation. It could’ve been a lot worse, all things considered. Besides, Skull would probably snap out of whatever bout of insanity was currently consuming him, and return to his senses in no time.

His infatuation with me was only temporary, and would soon fade away.

…Right?

__________________________________________

This wasn't supposed to be this long. It was supposed to be a oneshot. But I just cannot seem to write a reader-insert without constantly adding more and more and more, until it balloons into several far-too-long chapters. But this will be a twoshot (with a short epilogue)! It WILL!! I REFUSE to let this drag on for more than two chapters! I have other things to do! Other WIPs that demand my attention! So there will be ONE more chapter, almost entirely comprised of fluff, with Skull being a soft boi, reader discovering her inner soft gurl, and her two familiars being literally soft. And then a short epilogue (which will basically just be a fun bonus for those who've read "Good Girl Needs Kiss").

See you guys for the second (and definitely last!) part.

Chapter 2

#JMB writes #skull x reader #forest god au #forest god skull #reader is a witch #reader is... not nice #skull is baby #skull deserves all the hugs and all the kisses #witch familiars #reader's kryptonite is affection #something Skull gives LOTS of #reader has a personality #and some backstory #this is what happens when you decide to write a story starring a background character from another story #author has NO self-control

[yanhuisan]

this is my emotional support baby. im emotionally supporting her

#the locked tomb #tlt #harrow nonagesimus #im going to hold her during my reread fjfjdjdjr #i only had a white so maybe ill put the skull makeup on her?? #shes so lopsided LMAO BUT SHES MY BABY

[robinwaaaaa]

Some old F&C doodles and humanisations of mine that I legitimately almost forgot existed until now (awesome).

I'm such a huge fan of the pantheon in this show <3

#adventure time #adventure time fionna and cake #fionna and cake #i dont usually make fanart like ever but man this show did something to my brain #kheirosiphon #scarab #prismo #orbo #za baby #background characters #how do i even tag them #gravity god #light god #skull god #autism hand #i give up #yes you may use these designs

[ki-kosmo]

Me: Ok it’s time to work on something productive!!

My brain: ok but what if we didn’t do that actually *develops crossover and writes a spin-off AU with details down to the mechanics of each animatronic*

Anyway what if Mystery Skulls DCA crossover?

Close-ups and more info under the cut bc I’m brainrotting real hard about this:

So with this crossover (AU??) the story is mostly the same as the Mystery Skulls animated series, but with a few changes.

The gang all worked together in theater production; Sun and Moon were performers just like in canon SB, while Y/N and mini djmm were behind the scenes, doing tech, organizing events, etc. However, the crew also loved to go exploring, and Y/N, being heavily interested in the paranormal, usually led “investigations” into haunted locations. This was all for funsies and frankly, the boys just had fun going out and observing.

One night they go to an abandoned cave and get separated, and due to a… malfunction… in Sunny’s arm, he pushes Moon off a nearby cliff, tearing the poor bot to shreds. But! Whatever force that amplified the glitch in Sun also allowed for Moon’s will to stay alive and wrath to seek revenge on sun to strengthen, and eventually revive his sentient ai, piecing himself back together as best he can, with the rest of him materializing into a new body. Eventually, Djmm finds Sun and rips his infected arm from his socket, which brings Sun back to reality.

Sun doesn’t remember any of this except for Djmm tearing his arm away, and Y/N barely remembers Moon at all. In fact, all they know is Sun had a theater partner once, but one day they just vanished. Sun… doesn’t like to talk about it. He grows depressed, long after he gets repaired, and soon after stops performing to look for Moon full-time.

When he realized Y/N didn’t remember anything, he was conflicted. Confused. But once he realized he couldn’t seem to jog their memory, he kind of kept the events a secret from them. Not for his sake, no, but because he knew Y/N would blame themselves if they ever found out one of their silly escapades resulted in the death of someone so dear to them all.

Also for those interested, yes I designed Djmm with Mystery’s transformation in mind, here are some chicken scratch sketches I saved while I was figuring out their look:

If you read this far I’m giving you a big ol’ smooch on the forehead and a cookie 🍪💕

#edit: holy shit tumblr stop ruining my images challenge - impossible #repost bc I finally fixed this!!! #mystery moon #mystery moon au #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf dca #daycare attendant #fnaf sundrop #fnaf moondrop #fnaf dca au #mystery skulls #fnaf mini music man #fnaf djmm #fnaf dca x reader #<- yeah it’s one of those baby #kosmos art

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

#fuck yeah #baby girl #random #art #sketch #sketch art #skull #memento mori #reaper #dead #death #you #n a k e d #dead inside

[ex0skeletal-undead]

The Holy Child of the Plague, sculpture by Emil Melmoth

#art #sculpture #dark art #horror #fantasy #macabre #surreal #body horror #infant #baby #skull #gore #deformity