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zabrakghoul · 10 months

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childhood memories

first swtor fic that i've actually finished wow! enjoy :)

Auicia's armour feels heavier on her shoulders as she takes another shot of tihaar. She's not even listening to Gault talk about… something or other, she didn't care. Not right now. Her eyes dart over to where they've been looking this whole time.

Light red skin with tattoos that look like rivers. Short black hair. Small blue eyes that shine like the water back home.

Saasri Kallig.

Or, Master Lynnoris Sulcor, as she called herself now. I'm being stupid. She probably doesn't even remember me.

"Can you read me a story, Aui? The one about the big grophet and his friends?"

"Sure, Rii. Promise you'll sleep after?"

"I promise!"

She'd hugged Auicia, after that, and asked to be picked up. She was about three, then; two weeks before her fourth birthday. Auicia shook her head at the memory. Saasri- Lynnoris, had always been so sweet and affectionate. Always wanting to be near her and Iofio, no matter what they were doing, no matter how boring. Even if it was just looking for scrap to sell, or collecting rocks along the coast of Raider's Cove, she wanted to be near her big sisters.

"Commander."

She snapped her head up. It's her. Her baby sister--no, she's not a baby anymore, stop thinking about that--in front of her.

"Yeah?"

"You were looking at me. I was unsure if you needed something."

Auicia hadn't realised she was staring. Hell, this was going to be awkward.

"Nope. Just looking around."

Gault gave her that look, that stupid look, one that screams that it was obvious she was staring.

"I'll leave you two be," he says, getting up, "I'll be off to go see my favourite woman." He said it loud enough so that Hylo could hear him from the other side of the bar; she hadn't even noticed Hylo came. The Mirialan rolls her eyes, dragging him off to stars-know-where. She wants to beg Gault to stay. He can't leave her alone like this, with her, in this situation. As much as she jokes and teases, the scoundrel had become something of a brother to Auicia. An uncle, maybe. She doesn't want to think about that right now, though. She doesn't want to think about any of her relationships.

"Well, if you need anything, you know where I am, Commander."

Saasri, Lynnoris, whatever she's called now, it hurts too much to think of, walks off with a short bow, as Auicia waves. She gets up and she walks--jogs--to her quarters. She can't deal with anyone right now. She doesn't want to deal with anyone right now.

A tug on her shirt.

"Aui, why are you crying?"

"Oh, it's… It's nothing, Rii. Why don't you go play with your sister?"

"Because you always hug me when I'm crying, and I wanna hug you now."

She'd been trying to pay off her father's debts to the Nova Blades, posthumously as it was. She didn't realise she was crying, she just knew Saasri was worried, and… she picked up the smaller girl, some of her tears falling on to the smaller Zabrak's head.

"Thank you, Rii."

The little girl nodded, nuzzling Auicia's shoulder in the process.

The weight lifted off her shoulders a bit.

She takes her armour off somewhat hastily, the weight too heavy for her at this point. The alcohol, these memories, all her feelings--far too much to handle for one woman, even one as strong as her. She wants to just get on the Mantis and go somewhere, maybe get a few drinks with Essarae and Risha, but no. She can't be seen like this, sweating and halfway drunk, on the walk to her ship. The Commander of the Alliance, seen like this…

"Commander, I have the-"

That voice. That deep voice.

"…It can wait."

"No." She says it a bit too loudly, a bit too quickly. It's Aereo Vral, her best operative, head of the Alliance's intelligence operations. And she's crying in front of him--she hadn't even realised she was crying until now, watching his eyes dart across her face like that--"Don't pity me, I don't need it", she wants to say so badly.

She feels an arm wrap around her, a strong arm, a familiar one.

"It's alright."

It's not. It's not alright. This is pathetic.

"I miss her."

"I know, I know," he says, kneeling down to sit on the floor in front of her chair, "you're alright."

Somehow, she gets the feeling he does actually know, even if he shouldn't, but- she doesn't care.

Maybe things will be alright.

#vale writes a fic #swtor #vale oc: auicia #vale oc: aereo #vale oc: lynnoris #i'd tag gault but he's here like half a minute #sister angst for my soul and possibly yours #a few of you have already seen this but Shhhh.

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richardxoliverxmayhew · 2 months

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( a drabble for The Darling @vxctorx cause I've been thinking about Their reunion )

Cherried lips sundered as a hushed and breathless gulp escaped his throat. Had his eyes deceived him? Had the specters of his past finally come to haunt his waking hours.--No. This was real. He was real. Richard Mayhew had dreamed of this moment for years. Conjured up renditions of what he would say if he and his love of golden-years-past were ever to cross paths again. Would he tell Vic of all of the hurt he had bore since that fateful day at the train station?

'How dare he. I'll ne'er forgive him.' Richard thought to himself, tears stinging in his reddened eyes. The first night alone in his flat... What was to be Their flat... pricked the most. How naive, the Scotsman thought to himself. How naive it was to think that he and Vic would spend their first night exhausted, but discreetly reveling in the twilight of their new life, their freedom, entwined against the other's figure upon a newly baptized mattress that was all Theirs and Theirs alone. Instead, Richard found himself sitting against a wall, downing booze, in a desperate attempt to drown not just his sorrows, but whatever trace of foolish hope he may have harboured for Them. Their life. Their unwound future. Richard took another clumsy swig of his bottle, before scrubbing away another loose tear with the side of his knuckle. 'I hate him. I hate Victor Trevor.' Naive. Dumb. Foolish, boy.

Or, would Richard tell him about the quiet moments in-between the eventual, watered down hurt and the mundane. The silent longing so great he sometimes felt he couldn't breathe.

'I'll ne'er forget him. I ne'er could...' The ache burrowed deep into the cavern of his chest. He could feel it in his bones. A year had passed since that fateful day, but the Scotsman found himself thinking of Him now and again. That contemplation led to remembering. Remembering led to missing. It was in the cozy silence of his daily routine that the yearning was most ardent. It was when Richard took an insomnia-induced stroll, just at the crack of dawn, while the world slept on, that he caught sight of the first flares of light. The sun's golden tendrils reminding him of the aureate ruffle of His boyish curls. How he liked to teasingly tousle them in an act of fondness. It was when he would find himself idly toying with the ring Vic had given him for his birthday, which he had never taken off. Not once. In fact, whenever he was alone, the Scotsman occasionally found the gentle touch of his lips linger against the band's curve. Did Vic still wear the other half? Did his lips too press discreet caresses upon its golden bend? Or had he forgotten? Was the ring nothing more than a trifle, buried with the rest of Their memories?-- It was in these moments that grief's ghost lingered. Not the grief of day's past. Richard looked at those with a bittersweet fondness. No. It was the grief of what could have been. What they could have made. Richard missed Him and all that he was. All that They were.

"It's you...." he rasped, his voice fragile glass. Taking a bold step forward, Richard tilted his chin up at the other, as if about to expel some well-versed speech. A speech of heart. Of the longing. Of the loneliness. Instead, his weary arms could bare the weight of such a deepened severance no longer. What bitter resolve the Scotsman may have been harbouring after all these years finally melted away, revealing both his trembling ache of yearning and boyish adoration for the golden gentleman before him. Without another word, Richard wrapped his arms round Vic's mature figure, holding him close. The tips of his fingers crumpled against the back of the gentleman's shirt as a quiet tear or two rolled down his cheek. Richard Mayhew had dreamed of this moment for five years.--'Vic, I'm sorry.' 'I've ne'er been happier to see ye'.' 'I missed ye'. So, much.' Not a word was uttered. In fact, he didn't have to say a word. All he could do was hold Vic close. A silent promise to never let him go. Not now. Not ever. He never could.

#//im so sorry for this random short drabble my love//#//but idk why i just wanted to write a drabble about their reunion and all of the complicated mixed bag of emotions//#//richard felt during such a time//#//i really hope u like it my darling! 🥰//#vxctorx #period;uni days;v #HE'S HALF OF MY SOUL AS THE POETS SAY;#//also i know that you and i made a thread about their reunion but i just wanted to shed a bit more light//#//on richard's emotional state during such a time 🥺//#drabble;

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heathenpoetry · 10 months

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does he tell you that you're his goddess and that he weeps for your embrace... that he is yours in body and soul...

#w #this man writes me a love note every night before he goes to bed so i can read it before i go to sleep after him #my soul feels rich in love and i sleep so well #he gives me that #i haven't had sleep paralysis in the year and a half since we've started dating #sleep used to be horrible for me between that and lucid nightmares #im very blessed

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illogicalghost · 2 months

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#big gender rant ahead i just need to write down my thoughts #personal #so i think im a he/him trans lesbian??#i think ive been denying my feminine side for a long time now but middle school me was right. well. half right #idk why id built up some weird barrier in my mind about being trans and being a lesbian #but now im like more sure than ever #i still dont know if i could call myself a woman. and i thought i was so adamant about not using she/her again but it honestly?#doesn't bother me that much anymore. its not my preference but its not as soul crushing as it used to be #i have these weird subliminal gender rules for myself that ive been beating myself down with even though i #understand that theyre fake and dont hold anyone else to them. so why have a double standard? cant i have a fun gender?#ever since high school its been an uphill battle just letting myself live freely and having self confidence #i just turned 24. i dont have to be beholden to stupid hormonal teenage self loathing anymore #the world is a beautiful place and gender is just made up anyway. so why cant i be trans and butch? who cares??#i think i worded it well in my last personal post. ive been living a gender of convenience #but fuck that! i want the gender that makes sense to me! that makes me happy! its my life and i should live it how i want to!#...i still have some regrets about my top surgery. i wish i wasnt so weirdly flat chested now.#but hopefully the fat will redistribute eventually and itll look more natural as the years go on..#but i definitely dont regret going on T. i love my deep voice and my body hair #anyway if you've read this far thanks for listening to my mad ramblings #and dont forget you can have a fun gender too!

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queseraphita · 4 months

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*sees the stargazer right next to the boss room knowing exactly who I'm up against* oh... how kind of them... :)

#bro climbing this tower was ok once i got past the door guardian #did feel my soul leave my body when i made a fuck up and watched 22k ergo get cleaved into 12k ergo #this game is just throwin it at me in this last half #i am sitting on like 50k ergo in storage and I'm like ya thats fine #i saw camille lore and man....geppetto my man did you really make your dead wife into a puppet #i feel like if the alchemists didn't find out about her or how they did we could've had like venigni + pucinella parallels with #like carlo and camille if he had the chance to grow up and be raised by her #bc i don't think geppetto would've been all that present regardless like i don't think he knew about the camille ego awakening #considering this shenanigans with Carlo and the nameless puppet and not realizing p has developed into a person #honestly might make a note of that if i decide to write (unlikely)#i feel so bad i am sitting on guilt but i lied to eugenie about who or where the real alidoro was #like i really wanted her to know the truth but also maybe let her believe alidoro is always watching over her kinda deal #it was hard #im so grateful this game lets you choose not to fight cat and fox #i could not in my heart of hearts hurt gattito #hes my buddy i love him #watching the steam achievements pop up and getting into the 15-22% area of collectibles is lol #mikh plays lies of p #lop spoilers

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millienia · 2 months

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the c in NRC stands for cat

synopsis: in which heartslabyul deals with a cat loving no-magic having ramshackle prefect. (headcanons) gn!yuu

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

when he saw you clinging to the raccoon-cat-thing at the entrance ceremony, he did not know how to react.

normal people would panic. normal people would avoid a fire-breathing monster-cat-whatever that was spewing absolute nonsense.

apparently not you, though. although, one could say you already aren’t normal, considering the lack of magic. it wasn’t just not that much potential, you were basically in the negatives.

anyways, cats.

he got a peek under your ceremonial robes, and you were wearing..

a pajama shirt with a cat print on it. it looked horrendous.

riddle himself grew up with.. well, a cat. beastperson. so he probably would only have a surface level of appreciation for their greatness.

6/10 for cat lovers, i guess. he wouldn’t really mind, but he’d think it a tad strange. lower points because it took him a while to finally start letting grim into areas of festivity.

TREY CLOVER

this guy has siblings. like, siblings siblings. he’s used to being around people with strange interests (his brother tried to feed him a live insect once. not fun).

so, i’m sure he appreciates that your interests are on the much safer side of the wide, wide spectrum.

except when the two of you hang out while he’s baking and suddenly ace and deuce are complaining about cat hair in their tarts.

please do not bring your cats in the kitchen, thank you very much.

he’d feed your cat(s)! very sweet guy.

8/10 for cat lovers! good ascend from riddles, except two points taken from him because one, the Cat™ isn’t allowed in the kitchen and two, he just seems like a dog person to me.

CATER DIAMOND

please do not turn the great grim into a marketable plushie.

cater.

just kidding, he wouldn’t do that.

or would he?

i think he’d be a good cat co-parent! just like trey, i think he’d feed your cat when you can’t, he’d catsit while you’re in class.. etc, etc.

mostly because the posts he makes of your cat blow up, but also because he likes your cat!

the level fluctuates depending if this cat is grim or not. please do not ask me why.

8/10 for cat lovers! not bad, not bad at all! except, now there’s merch of grim- and while he’s proud of himself (this is only to be expected for the great grim! according to him), you just wish you got some of the revenue.

ACE TRAPPOLA

no.

just, no.

i think he’d look at a cat litter and go, “what’s that?”. maybe he’d even try to sniff it.

gives off grew up with a dog vibes, i don’t know why.

he goes like “EUGH” when he finds cat hair in the food you made for him.

you felt kinda bad, but he ate it anyways while complaining. you were pretty conflicted.

he’d be.. i don’t know. unremarkable. not that good, though.

5/10 for the cat lovers. no comment. this gremlin, i swear.

DEUCE SPADE

he LITERALLY isn’t any better than ace.

maybe he used to feed some of the stray cats on the way home from school when he was in elementary, but that’s probably the extent of his experience.

will also complain about cat hair. politely.

“uhm.. i think grims hair is in my soup?” kind of polite. except he’s grimacing and staring at grim like the cat just insulted his mother and all his ancestors.

he will also sniff your cat litter. and grim will laugh in the heartslabyul first year duo’s faces.

thanks, grim.

5/10 for the cat lovers.. again. he’s really just the same. he’d probably be nicer than ace, but the latter just has more experience with pets. probably. hopefully.

special guest, IDIA SHROUD!

do i even need to say anything?

you two have matching cat print pajamas. ortho would cry tears of joy if he could.

you bring your cats to ignihyde and you all hang out. <3

you, idia, and your 23 cats. it really is the life.

he paid you in genesis crystals for permission to pat one of your cats on the head.

you two have a cat lovers gc where you just send cat pictures and talk about your cats, very fun.

10/10 for cat lovers! first ever 10/10, and it’s from idia shroud? riddle is seething. great cat parent! though, he’s a bit attached. it’s okay, though, he buys your cats toys.

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lizzieehearts · 4 months

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get me a jane austen man im so serious

#CAPTAIN WRNTWORTHS LETTER HELLO #YOU PIERCE MY SOUL I AM HALF AGONY HALF HOPE ????????????#I CAN HARDLY WRITE I AM EVERY INSTNAT HEARING SMTH WHICH OVERPOWERS ME #THE WAY HE POURS HER SOUL OUT TO HER BUT DOESNT EVEN FINISH THE LETTER ??????? HELLO HELLO IS ANYONE OUT THERE #mimi reads

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risetherivermoon · 3 months

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sneak peak for the oneshot thats a part of the telepathy nark au,

nicky's thoughts from lark's pov are incredibly silly

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mobbothetrue · 4 months

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Thinking about literally anything else < thinking about my baldurs gate 3 tav for extended periods of time

#mobbtalks #his name is Maknok and I love him. I don’t know what happened in the character creature but it resulted in him having the biggest saddest #wettest eyes possible. he’s a half orc ranger and every time I get the option to roll intimidation it’s very funny bc he looks like he’s #about to cry. he’s besties with Lae’zel and dating Shadowheart. Astarion is also in the party. Astarion is not a Maknok fan #I wasn’t trying to romance Shadowheart mind. she just saw his big sad eyes and was like ‘well I can’t not’. Astarion is firmly on the side #of ‘I *can* not. get away from me with those big soulful eyes.’#I need to figure out how to take screenshots. I need to do a fashion photo shoot for my boy #just to cue in to how terminal this is getting: I’m making up detailed backstory for him. I’m writing fanfic.#I started another run to explore more on like. the peaceful difficulty. and I tried to make Maknok the guardian and I could not get even a #quarter as sad. not a hint of glimmery eyes. I really don’t know what happened

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tiredassmage · 1 year

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can we hear more about in dreams, hopes to die... 👉👈 those lines are so tasty..

CHOMPING AT THE BIT, AYE AYE CAPTAIN!!!!

Would you believe me if I reveal that this snippet is from the same piece? It's obviously an overall not very good time kind of piece, so I felt a tiny bit bad about it for once and decided to throw Tyr a bone. Valkorian and Tyr's own conga line of bad times couldn't be the only thing in five years worth of dreams, I figured, lol.

Also, that very scene is where the banger In the dark, it’s easier to hide and easier to tell the truth came from, lol.

Don't get too excited though because that's... very short. And also it's mentally set to Eyelids by PVRIS, so uh. It still punches me in the face.

Eventually I'll hopefully throw him another bone and give him and Theron's time on Rishi or Yavin IV a little pass because I'd like to think Theron's at least a little right and something came up. And stars know Tyr needs a fuckin' break, good gods almighty anlkfdnafldsf. Says she who continues to put that man in Situation after Situation after Situa-

And it was very hard to stop at just the first line for that initial post because the three lines that follow it are the meat and potatoes of what is currently the opening sequence of what I hope will eventually be a coherent fic. Or at least kinda coherent. It's still a very nebulous piece and I kinda like that, so I might not really do much more setup because it seems fitting that there wouldn't be a lot of setup and transition in something like the carbonite dreams era.

And, perhaps unsurprisingly given the nature of the setup of that chapter, but a lot of these scenes flirt with the concept of death. Tyr's dangerous dedication to "finishing the job" isn't anything new to those of us who have been here a while, lol, but this is a good character study piece if you're newer to my favorite blorbo, though it's an undeniably heavy one and obviously a bit fucky and nebulous by nature.

Also, fair warning, yes I'm giving you lines, but also I am going to give you a ramble and a half about Tyr lore because this is the piece I'm stuffing some juicy tick-tock workings into because I realized it was good for that and I love my boy so much, he's so fucked up. I love him though.

Anyway, I teased, so the next three lines of that scene, as foretold beneath the cut:

At first, it’s a firing squad. Mud cakes their boots and the rain pelts heavy on worn, drawn faces.

Tyr pushes to his feet unsteadily. A flash of lighting breaks overhead, glancing off of leveled blasters and hollowed eyes.

It will end as it should: without a soul remembering his name. He’d prefer it that way.

Okay, so... this is also not necessarily a piece I intended to write, but I realized there is... almost no better place to do a deep dive into some of the things that tick inside of Tyr that maybe aren't best portrayed in dialogue alone. This also wasn't meant to be in present tense, but it didn't feel right in past, so I ended up caving and that's... been a theme of the week, I guess, lol.

This is also like. I always chuckle a bit in that scene from Visions in the Dark later where Valkorian threatens you to meet his challenge and grow stronger or die alone and unremembered because wouldn't that just be ideal for a former Cipher. Wasn't that how the story was supposed to end? He didn't ask for your bullshit, grandpa.

There's currently two other scenes I have - they're all relatively short as I try to keep with that sort of drifting feeling. But the other one that might [Large Eyes Emoji] be of... relevant interest...

What’s been done has already been done. It doesn’t matter what it was. Maybe it won’t matter to anyone else.

Because it’s going to end here and now. Such were the decrees of the Sith - of the Empire.

Absolutes.

It matters to him that he tried. This is one of the kinder ways this could go - quietly, without the fanfare of blood on his teeth and a fire in his eyes.

“For what it’s worth, sir?” Nine exhales long and slow as he closes his eyes. “I’ve always admired you… You did your best.”

Finally.

No.

More.

Running.

“But I’m not going back.” The old man’s one of the few he could ever hope to ask this final favor. “Finish this - what we started.”

The Minister of Intelligence pulls the trigger.

It’s over before Tyr feels the ground beneath him.

Also topical given the "are others concerned about their sleep schedule" tag post reblogged earlier today, lol, and the idea of chronic nightmares. That Tyr and I haven't talked about. To each other. Or the world. Possibly not with the people he cares about, either. I'm sure Theron knows nebulously that he can have some troubled sleep - you don't share a bed with someone and not notice how consistently they have trouble falling or staying asleep.

But I think the fuckiest part of the whole Castellan Restraints period for Tyr is how he doesn't want to let the old man down. The Minister is more a father figure in Tyr's eyes than his own father, quite honestly [Tyr has a... kind of non-existant relationship with his entire family, unfortunately - and it's not because he went into Intelligence], and there's absolutely a part of that dynamic that is mentor and protégé.

And it's important to me that he sees this scenario with the Minister and not Shara - at least in Chapter Two, where it first haunts his nightmares with some consistency. Because I made a conscious choice in Shara knowing as Keeper about his Restraints - not because that ever comes up in-game, but because it adds something very crunchy to their already doomed narrative. And the background to that decision is that I decided it's... the kind of silent acknowledgement that the Minister can afford to give of their more intimate relationship. It's damage control, mitigation. With a heavy heart I imagine he tells her this in private, off the record, because Nine was her Cipher. And both of them still hold him in high regard.

Nine's given a possibly unusually loose leash to pursue the SIS investigation because of the Minister and Keeper's word; Watcher Three mentions this in broad strokes when he questions you about the blackout in records.

Anyway, the point to me mentioning this is actually that Tyr makes a very conscious effort to not think about this in the midst of the Restraints causing problems. He's reluctant enough to cede that he should hold the Minister responsible for this gross violation of his privacy and trust, but he's even more reluctant to give that the woman he loves has any knowledge or hand in the process - unwittingly or, especially, wittingly. Ultimately, he stubbornly doesn't hold them responsible. It hurts less to place the blame elsewhere. And he never loses the inescapable nostalgic kick to go home in the sense of the old paradigm - him and Keeper and the Minister.

He gave them everything.

And there's something in here about his regret at not being able to say all of this respect in better words or more directly. There's that acknowledgement that there's one person he trusts to understand why this was his breaking point. And, ultimately, there's the acceptance of the likelihood that none of this is going to end well, that he's living on borrowed time stolen from fate or destiny, or hell, maybe the Force. Tyr doesn't give a whole lot to whatever higher powers might be out there - relying on them hasn't ever saved him and he doesn't expect it to.

It makes it very interesting to watch him knowingly and willingly lie about the Black Codex after he lets Ardun walk with it and promises to double for the SIS. In a way, he's committing the greatest failure and throwing away everything the Minister has fought so hard with him to maintain and keep, especially when both of them have spoken of ideals instead of goals, etc. But it's necessary. It's what's best for Tyr, mentally, at that point. And even one of the figures he loves and respects the most can't override that desperate intrinsic need to fight for himself. The old man is, after all, one of the largest advocates of it throughout his career as Nine.

And, I suppose speaking of the nostalgia for Intelligence, my favorite set of lines from the final scene so far:

She’s sobbing against his shoulder. Dust and blood stain an almost unfamiliar uniform - he hasn’t worn uniform on Dromund Kaas in months, maybe years…

Everything’s been such a blur since Intelligence was disbanded…

so YEAH. I uh. I have a lot of feelings and this is where I'm sniffling and sobbing and word vomiting them into one doc but in story format, I suppose, lol.

Also completely unrelated to this particular fic but I am. Still thinking so intently about Eight x Tyr thoughts. They're now living rent free in my head and all of this.... absolute devotion stuff... hrhrhghghghghghghghrhhg. Brain vibrates because this is obviously all related to it because of the few people who could ever possibly understand any part of this series of events and feelings, it'd be another Cipher.

Tyr really does mourn Intelligence like... ghhghg. I'm unwell about it. He gave everything to it and its success. He doesn't regret it. The SIS investigation and the following fall of Imperial Intelligence were some of the worst fucking years of his life and it's destroyed him, really. He's living in and with the ruins like a bombed out city. It destroyed his everything and he'd almost gladly let it finish the job and destroy him to finally get his retribution. And he'd just as gladly let love destroy it all and rebuild it from the rubble when he has the right person beside him. Something something doesn't realize that he doesn't want or need to continue that destruction, he just needs fucking... idk validation or something. Acceptance. Acknowledgement. And then they can work on what "okay" looks like in the aftermath. He needs to be just as responsible for someone else's "okay" to even begin figuring out what the hell it looks like for him. hOUgh anyway.

I'm fucking normal about Cipher Nine, obviously. Thanks for comin' to my TED Talk.

#answered #ch: tyr #wip ask meme #in a way lel #my poor fucking BELOVED glowstick man...#also: just. when he HAS the right people with him how fucking. like yea yea devotion that corrupts #he'd still go to the ends of the fuckin GALAXY bro but also #it's so much easier to realize. oh. maybe we'd like to live. maybe we'd like to do that together. what's that look like #happy half a month early fool's i'm never normal about tyr #crunchy cat scream react jpeg y'know #tyr needs to be told to stop. to gently but forcibly be stopped. then he might be okay.#it might start there #i'm gonna fuckin write about that too just you wait until i have free time and a solid concept that consumes my entire soul again #gripping the edge of the sink #agent on agent romance call that a healing cycle #i'm.. s- no no i was gonna say i'm sorry i'm like this but no #i love him so much ur honor this is the love ur blorbo website #oh and obligatory bitching about ask editor style yada yada stop throwing the indent weird how do i style fic readibly in ask replies hghgh

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earth-ambassador-jim · 1 year

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Lost Souls: Story 12

Plume Moths

Lost Souls Summary: Merlin awakens early from his sleep. He decides that he doesn’t want to leaving anything to chance and kidnaps the young James Lake Jr. to began training his Trollhunter as early as possible.

Barbara is determined to hunt down the man who kidnapped her son. In her efforts to get her son back she finds a strange old radio that speaks to her in a woman’s voice. The radio leads her to an underground society of shapeshifters.

Mother and son meet again years later as strangers on opposing sides.

AO3 - Fanfiction

~~~~

Darci wasn’t supposed to answer the door, but her Mom was on the phone and she was right by it when the bell rang. She hazarded a glance into the kitchen and saw that her mom hadn’t heard.

She contemplated the situation for a moment and decided it would be fine. Her mom could see her from where she was and Darci was eight now.

She checked to make sure the porch light was on and then pulled the door open, letting in a breath of cold night air.

She stared in bafflement at their visitor. Standing outside, alone, in the rain, was a boy about her age. He was in a dirty, too large t-shirt. His straight black hair -cut rather unevenly as if whoever had cut it didn’t really know what they were doing- was wet and plastered against his head and neck. His skin was pale, not just because he was white, but as if he had never seen the sun.

He stared at her with wide blue eyes.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“…I’m Darci,” She said uncertainly.

“But I mean… why are you here?” He shifted from one foot to another and took a quick glance back before fixing his eyes on her again.

“…This is my house?” She really didn’t know what he wanted.

“But… but… this is my…” He trailed off, looking around once more uncertainly. “Do you know where my Mom is?”

“Your mom?”

“Barbara Lake. She lives… lived here?”

“She must have moved,” Darci offered. “It’s just me and Mom and Dad here.”

“Oh,” The boy said quietly.

His lip quivered and water welled up in the corners of his eyes.

Darci frowned. She didn’t like people crying. She was never quite sure what she was supposed to do.

“Maybe, Mom could…”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Both Darci and the boy jumped in surprise at the new voice. A tall grey haired man had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, behind him. He was wearing an absolutely obnoxious Hawaiian print shirt with plaid shorts and sandals but something about him, something in his sharp, hawk like gaze made Darci wary.

“Merlin…” The boy started to say, but then quieted when the man shot him a look.

“Who are you talking to?” Darci jumped again at her mom’s voice behind her.

She glanced back and saw that her Mom was frowning at the strange pair in front of her.

“I thought I told you not to answer the door without me.”

“Sorry, mom,” She said automatically.

She wasn’t really paying attention to her Mom but rather watching the boy. The man… Merlin?... His hands rested on the boy’s shoulders and he seemed to tense under them. He looked as if he had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be.

“Sorry, ma’am,” The man was saying. “My grandson was looking for his Mom who used to live here. -He came to live with me during the divorce, you see- I did try and tell him that she had moved but well…”

Darci’s Mom frowned.

“Sorry to hear that. Was she Mrs. Lake? I think we still have her contact info…”

“Quite alright,” Merlin interrupted. “No need to trouble yourself. Boy, tell this lady you’re sorry for disturbing her.”

The last comment was accompanied by a squeeze of his hands. The boy kept staring at the ground and muttered ‘sorry’.

Something was wrong here.

“What’s your name?” Darci asked the boy.

His head jerked up and he stared at her in surprise.

“Oh, it’s…”

“Come along,” Merlin said sharply, cutting him off. “We need to hurry if we’re to make it to our hotel in time to check in.”

He turned away taking the boy with him.

“I don’t like that,” Darci heard her Mom murmur.

As Darci watched the two figures move out of sight, something small and white detached from the taller of the two. The things came closer and she saw that they were two little white moths.

One of them landed on her Mom and the other tried to land on her. She dodged it. It followed her. She darted away from it toward the kitchen. Behind her she heard the door close.

In the kitchen Darci turned around and saw the moth still following her. Beside her was a water glass. She grabbed it and brought it down over the small insect.

“What are you doing?”

Darci glanced up at her Mom.

“I caught a moth.”

“Oh, why don’t you take it outside?” Her mom turned toward the stove and her casserole.

“You’ve got one on you,”Darci told her, pointing at her Mom’s shoulder.

She blinked and glanced down at it before swatting at it with her hand. It fluttered away to the window and squeezed out through a little crack between the screen and the sill.

“Annoying creatures,” She said. “I should make sure none have gotten into the closet.”

Darci turned back to her captive moth and studied it. It was a strange looking little thing. It was a pure, chalky, white with wings shaped like downy feathers and a long thin body. She got a piece of paper and slid it under the glass so she could pick it up without it escaping. She started toward the window.

“Do you think that boy was the one who used to live here right before us?” Darci asked her Mom.

Her Mom looked at her with a puzzled frown.

“What boy?”

~~~~

The events of that night haunted her all week. Darci tried to get her Mom to say anything about the strange man and boy who had come by their house, but she didn’t seem to remember a thing. She asked her Dad about Barbara Lake but he had only met her in passing and didn’t remember if she had any children or not. When he asked why she wanted to know she changed the subject. Darci was starting to wonder if she had just imagined the meeting. She kept the strange moth in a cage by her bed. It was her only proof that the whole thing was real.

It wasn’t until Friday when something finally came of the incident.

~~~~

“Do I have to come?” Darci whined.

Her Mom took the bread out of the oven.

“Yes, dear. We won’t be there long and it will be good for you to get to know our neighbors.”

Darci heaved a large sigh. She glanced at her Dad, who was busy fumbling with his tie. When he noticed her stare, she gave him a pleading look. He gave her a rye “we’re all in this together smile” and went back to his tie. Darci turned back toward her Mom.

“But Toby’s so boring! He just ignores me when I come over.”

“That’s because he’s shy.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. That’s what adults always said about loners. She had tried her hardest but Toby’s actions made it very clear he just plain wasn’t interested in being friends.

After dinner finished up and Toby and Darci were told to go off and play while the adults chatted.

Once in Toby’s room they had split off to play games on their phones and ignore one another. After about a half hour Darci ran out of lives so she took a break and looked around the room.

It was a rather dull place in her opinion: Nowhere near as cluttered as her room. It had bare wooden floors, a few scattered posters, an old computer, and a large wooden dollhouse. The only interesting thing in the room was the collection of rocks and crystals that spread across every available ledge. Eventually her gaze was drawn to a picture on the desk. It was of Toby with a black haired, blue eyed boy. A very familiar looking boy.

Darci stared at the picture.

“Who’s that?” She demanded.

Toby blinked at her and then briefly eyed the picture. His gaze quickly returned to his phone.

“That’s Jim,” He said quietly. “He used to be my… neighbor.”

“Is his Mom’s name Barbara Lake?”

Toby turned fully toward her with a frown.

“How did you know that?” He asked.

“I saw him last week,” Darci said excitedly. She was so glad to finally have some confirmation that she hadn’t imagined the entire thing! “He came to our house and said he was looking for his Mom.”

Toby was staring at her.

“What.”

“Yeah, he was with this weird old guy who said he was his Grandpa.”

“Jim didn’t have a grandpa,” Toby said quickly.

“Well he never called him “Grandpa” He called him “Merlin”.”

“Like the wizard?”

Darci nodded.

Toby’s nose wrinkled and his eyes narrowed.

“Quit lying,” He said and turned sharply away from her.

Darci stared at him in opened mouth shock at the sudden accusation.

“I’m not lying.”

She had always prided herself on being quite honest in fact.

“Yes you are,” Toby said. “Jim’s been missing for two years now. He’s probably dead. I heard the police talking about it.”

That was news to Darci.

“He’s missing?”

“Yeah, that is what I said,” was Toby’s clipped reply.

Darci frowned. She remembered the way Merlin had been holding onto Jim’s shoulders. It was like he thought the boy would try to escape.

“Do they know he’s dead for sure?”

“No…”

That must have been why Jim was at the house. He must have gotten away from his kidnapper and tried to return to his Mom…

Only to find out that she had moved.

“So what if that really was him,” Darci insisted. “Why would he say his Mom was Barbara Lake otherwise?”

Toby said determinedly looked away from her. “Maybe because this is a stupid prank that someone put you up to?”

Darci folded her arms in irritation.

“Why do you think I’m lying?”

“Oh I don’t know.” Toby finally looked at her. His fists were clenched and his brows were low. “Because I’m not dumb. I mean “Merlin”? Really? You should try to make up a better story than that.”

“I am not making it up.”

“Are too!” Toby snapped getting to his feet.

“Am not!” Darci took a step forward, her own fists clenching.

“Are TOO!”

“Am NOT!”

There was a pause. They were practically nose to nose now. Apparently it struck them both at the same time just how ridiculous they were being and they took a step apart.

“So what would it take to convince you?” Darci asked.

Toby huffed.

“I don’t know… actual proof?”

Darci hesitated and then decided to go for it.

“As they were leaving something strange happened,” Darci said hesitantly.

She described to him what had happened with the moths and her Mom.

Toby was now looking at her like she was crazy. Darci could feel her face burning.

“I still have the moth,” She said.

Toby made a little scoffing sound.

“What’s a moth prove?” He asked. “There’s moths everywhere. And seriously make up a better story.”

Darci ignored the jab. She was tired of the whole thing. “Take it or leave it.”

“Fine, I’ll come see your moth and if I’m not convinced will you leave me alone?”

“I will,” Darci said easily.

It wasn’t like she would want to hang out with him anyway if he kept insisting that she was lying. She got why, but it still stung.

~~~~

It was a nice sunny Saturday when Toby came over. It had now been about two weeks since the incident.

“Let’s see your bug,” Toby said in a surly tone.

Darci shot him an annoyed look. She was seriously rethinking her choice in telling him but… he was her best bet for finding someone to believe her. She didn’t know many people yet and wasn’t ready to risk any of her new friendships at school.

“Come on.” She motioned for him to follow her up the stairs and turned right to go into her bedroom. Once inside she turned back to see Toby hovering in the hallway, brows furrowed and posture tense.

“Well?”

Toby blinked and then came into the room with on quick jerky step.

“Let’s get this over with,” He said eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

Darci picked up the small plastic cage; noting with an uncomfortable jolt that the moth stayed as close to her hands as possible.

“Here.” She handed the cage to Toby and wiped her hands on her pants.

“It’s certainly a weird looking thing,” Toby said after a moment.

“I looked online and found out that it’s a White Plume Moth,” Darci said. “They’re from Europe and North Africa.”

Toby hummed.

“Doesn’t prove anything,” He said, turning the cage around in his hands.

“Look at how it follows me,” Darci said.

She moved closer to the cage and the moth began fluttering against the plastic closest to her. She circled and the moth trailed after.

“Okay. That is a little weird,” Toby admitted after trying to get the moth to follow his own hand with no success.

“Right? Based on what happened with the other moth and Mom, I think if it touches me I will forget about meeting Jim.”

Toby’s nose wrinkled and he shot her a skeptical look.

“It’s weird but it doesn’t prove anything. Here.” He held it out toward Darci.

Unfortunately when he took a step forward his foot landed on Darci’s gunrobot toy and he slipped. The cage flew out of his hands and hit the ground causing the top to pop off. Now free of the cage, the moth started flying toward Darci.

“Nope. No. “-Darci jumped out of the way.- “Absolutely not.” -She took a swing at it with a book and missed. It was unusually agile for a moth.- “Not today.”

She was feeling a lot more certain of her theory now.

“Quit standing there and get it!” Darci yelled at Toby who was standing there watching dumbly as the moth chased Darci all over her room like she was a giant lightbulb instead of a girl.

“Uh…”

Toby grabbed a shoe and brought it down on the little white insect as it fluttered past.

There was a flash of light and a puff of green smoke.

Darci and Toby stared with wide eyes at the shoe and then at each other. Slowly Toby lifted the shoe away. The moth was flattened; its insides splattered on Darci’s desk. In the middle of the mess was a very small green gem, about the size of a grain of rice. It was glowing faintly.

As they watched its light flickered and died.

Toby grabbed a pencil and poked at it.

“I think it’s an emerald,” He said. “But emeralds don’t glow. Where did it come from?”

“Maybe it was in the moth?”

Darci was shaking. It was one thing to suspect that there was something weird going on but this… this was freaky. And not in a good way. The thought that there really existed something that could remove memories –that she would have never known if it had been used on her- was very, very unsettling.

“Do you believe me now?” She asked.

Toby nodded wordlessly.

After a moment his gaze shifted up from the remains of the moth to her. They were wide and shiny.

“S-so you were telling the truth? You really saw Jim? He came here?”

Darci blinked, a brief rush of warmth coursed through her before cooling into a cold shiver at the memory.

“Yeah,” She said looking away. “I think so.”

“Was… Did he look okay?”

Darci grimaced and focused her eyes on the moth. She really didn’t want to answer that question.

“Darci?”

She jumped when she felt a hand touch her arm.

“Sorry,” Toby said quickly.

He clasped his hands together so hard that the knuckles where turning white.

“Please?”

Darci sighed.

“He looked scared,” She said finally. “He wasn’t hurt but he was all raggedy like a homeless person. He only had time to ask about his Mom before Merlin showed up.”

“Oh.”

Toby was shaking. He let out a loud sniff and then sat down heavily on the floor. He hiccupped and then, to Darci’s horror, he burst into tears.

Darci glanced at the door and then at Toby. Her hands stayed uncertainly at her side and then, after another long moment of hesitation, she knelt down by him and patted his back.

“Are… are you okay?”

“He’s alive,” Toby managed to whisper out between sobs. “I thought…”

He twisted around and latched onto Darci in a hug.

“Thank you.” He said. “I’m sorry for calling you a liar.”

“I forgive you.”

Eventually Toby’s tears petered off and he pulled away from her. They sat for a moment in awkward silence.

“So what now?” Darci asked.

“I don’t know,” Toby said. “Your Dad’s a detective right? Maybe he can help.”

“I’m not sure,” She said.

She thought of the moth taking her Mom’s memories. What if she got her Dad involved and this Merlin guy got mad. What if he made him forget more than just Jim? Besides…

“I doubt he will believe me. My only proof is rather flat now.”

She gave a meaningful glance at the table.

Toby flushed.

“Sorry about that.”

Darci waved her hand dismissively.

“Don’t be. I’ll sleep better without that creepy bug watching me.”

They sat a moment. Toby pulled out a couple Nugget Nummies and offered her one. She accepted and they ate them in thoughtful silence.

“So going to the grown-ups is out of the question,” Toby finally said. “I guess it’s just us then?” He paused eyes widening. “I… I mean me. You don’t have to help. It’s enough that you found out he’s still alive. I wouldn’t dream of…”

“I’m helping,” Darci said firmly.

“But you don’t even know Jim.”

“Yeah, but it’s the right thing to do,” Darci said. She couldn’t drive those sad, lonely blue eyes out of her mind. “Anyway this is definitely the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“That’s for sure,” Toby muttered. “And here I had just stopped believing in fairies and stuff. So where do you think we should start?”

Darci shrugged. Despite her Dad being a cop she had never been that into mysteries. She glanced at the flattened moth.

“I guess we could start doing research on Merlin?”

Toby frowned following her gaze.

“Do you think he really was the Merlin?”

“No idea,” Darci said. “But it’s as good a place to start as any.”

“I suppose. Do you want to meet at my house tomorrow?” Toby said. His gaze was alternating between her and the ground.

“I’ll have to ask my Mom and Dad but I think that sounds good.”

“O-Okay…”

Toby started edging toward the door.

“I’ll see you then?”

“Yep.”

Toby darted quickly out of the room and a minute later Darci heard the front door open and close.

She looked out the window and saw Toby trotting across the street. Once he was out of sight, she walked across the room and collapsed onto her bed.

What was she getting herself into?

~~~~

Author Notes:

Alternate scene: Darci *opens the door* Jim *standing in the rain looking like the ghost of a murdered Victorian child* -"HavE yOu SeEn mY MötHEr?" Darci: ... Darci: Nope *Slams the door closed* ~~~~ Anyway this was supposed to be a short chapter but then Darci and Toby started arguing.

Plume Moths being able to take away memories was borrowed from the "Dark is Rising" sequence, though it was used very differently there. I'm going to say Merlin added his own twist. (Also go check out The Dark is Rising. It's a good series.)

Please let me know what you think! (Reviews, critiques, and comments give me as a writer power and motivation!)

Tune in next time for the appearance of our favorite punk wizard.

#Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Trollhunters fanfiction #Lost Souls #Child Champion AU #Jim Lake Jr #Darci Scott #Toby Domzalski #tobias domzalski #james lake jr #TOA Merlin #Magic #memory alteration #my writing #my posts #This takes place right before Merlin make Jim into a half-troll #He wanted to see his mom one last time #before the change

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