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nyrandrea · 7 months

Note

hiii I’d like to request (again if that’s ok, it’s me the one who asked for the injured ) but if so then may I ask for this time so what if everyone’s at camp all asleep when a few people sneak in and kidnap reader but Astarion wakes up hearing something wasn’t right seein what’s going on watches as reader disappears then ofc hunting them down to see them being used in an ritual all tied up and weak dndeueududid ( sorry it’s like 1:18am I’m laid awake thinking about random things 💀 )

Helloooo again! I enjoyed your last request and certainly had fun with this one too so thanks again! (1:18am is the best time for random thoughts :D )

Warnings for canon typical violence, kidnapping, rituals (kinda), blood and swears

Word Count - 2.9k

Enjoy!

xxx

Under the silvery embrace of the crescent moon, nestled within the heart of a tranquil forest, you and your companions had surrendered to the gentle clutches of slumber, a collective of soft snoring weaving its way through the rustling leaves and whispering trees.

A clearing in the woods served as your base for the night after a long, grueling day of travelling. The grass beneath you was like a plush carpet, and a delicate blanket of dew kissed the blades, glistening like diamonds. The air was crisp, yet tender, cradling you in its nocturnal embrace.

Your team had all gathered in a sort of semi-circle, heads pillowed upon hands or nestled into makeshift cushions fashioned from backpacks and rolled-up cloaks. You weren’t sure how or when, but throughout your sleep you had unconsciously rolled over and inched yourself closer to where Astarion lay, his delicious scent drawing you in.

One could observe the group and note the serene expressions etched upon their faces. They appeared as though they were sculpted by dreams, their features softened by the embrace of rest. Your eyes fluttered beneath closed lids as you chased the remnants of recent adventures.

Unfortunately for you, you were being observed.

You flinched as the corner of your vision registered a goblin kneeling beside you, the tip of his dagger against your throat before you could even scramble for your own weapon.

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you," he purrs, smiling smugly down at you. “Not if you want your friends to keep their innards intact.”

Your eyes widen and dart over to where the rest of the group lay, completely oblivious to the goblins that threatened their very lives. You were even surprised to see Astarion still in a deep trance of meditation; he was usually so much more alert at night.

“What do you want?” you whisper.

“For you to come with us, true soul,” the goblin answered. “We are in desperate need of your... assistance.”

‘Great,’ you thought. ‘Just what I need, more Absolute nutjobs.’

“Look, I don’t think I can help you.”

“Oh, but you are the only one who can,” he retorts, slowly pulling the knife away from your throat. “It’s our leader, you see. She is gravely ill and only a true soul like yourself can cure her.”

Your face scrunches up in disbelief. “If she’s ill, then it’s a healer you need, not me.”

The goblin frowns. “It’s you she needs, she said so herself.” His blade edges closer to you once again, signaling for you to get up. “Now, if you’ll be so kind as to come with us. Or am I going to have to resort to a bit of… persuasion?”

He exchanges a glance with one of his men, who seemed all too giddy to slash Astarion’s neck.

“No…!” You almost shout but restrain yourself so as to not alert the others and incur a massacre. “I-I’ll come with you, just... leave them be.”

The goblin grinned up at you, and you had to force down the bile that was rising in your throat.

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” he crooned, gesturing for you to follow.

You hesitate for a moment, your gaze darting between your weapon and the goblin, his eyes are trained on you, almost as if he was daring you to try. Ultimately, you were outnumbered, and they held the element of surprise over your companions. No matter which way you tried to cut it, there were going to be casualties if you didn’t do what you were told.

So, you begrudgingly allowed yourself to be led into whatever hellish fate this cult of the Absolute had in store for you. A plan of escape would have to come later, when you were far enough away from your friends.

Unbeknownst to you, one of them was already on your trail.

xxx

Amidst the shroud of night, when the moon hid its luminous face behind a thick blanket of heavy clouds, you and your merry little band of kidnappers ventured into a meadow cloaked in long, swaying grass. The air had an eerie stillness about it, broken only by the distant whispers of nocturnal creatures.

As you traversed the meadow, moving with cautious steps, your feet sinking into the cool earth with each stride, you silently weighed up your options. The grass was like a sea of shadows, their whispers brushing against your legs like ghostly fingers; it would be so easy just to blend in and disappear.

You would have considered it, if it were not for the worgs.

The air was imbued with the scent of dew-drenched grass, but those beasts would still be able to track you down within seconds. Only... there were most certainly four of them the last time you checked. But looking around now, you only noticed two.

It appeared the goblins had noticed too; their hushed conversations were like faint echoes in the vast expanse, mixing with the symphony of crickets and the occasional haunting call of a night owl. You couldn’t make out a damn word they were saying, but they looked nervous.

“It would seem that we have a stalker in our midst,” the leader of the group growled, holding up a hand for everyone to come to a halt before he grabbed your wrist, forcing you down to his level. “Sod it, change of plan. You’re with me,” he commanded one of his men before turning to the rest. “You lot deal with the bastard while we take our friend here back to base.”

“Hey!” You grabbed his wrist and tried to wrench yourself free. “Let go!”

“With pleasure,” he grinned as he simultaneously released his grip and struck the back of your head with a blunt weapon, rendering you unconscious just as the ambusher seized the opportune moment. With lightning speed and calculated precision, he pounced from the grass, launching himself like a shadowy wraith. Long grass bent and swirled in his wake, mimicking the dance of phantoms.

In that fleeting moment, you caught the glint of a blade unsheathed, reflecting a cold, silver streak in the night. Chaos ensued, and the long grass became a battleground, hiding the combatants in its tangled embrace.

The clash of steel rang through the night, intermingling with the desperate cries of your name as you slipped away into darkness.

The ambusher moved with ruthless determination; his scarlet eyes ablaze with a wild, unholy fervor. In the end, silence fell upon the meadow, broken only by the ragged breaths of the victorious, standing amidst the long grass, a solitary figure bathed in the haunting glow of the moon, his cloak billowing like a specter as he followed the trail of broken grass the other goblins had made as they carried your prone form away.

xxx

The first thing you could feel was a pounding in your head. You try to sit up, to pull your knees up so you can curl up and settle the turning in your stomach. Slowly, your eyes opened as your breath sped up.

You were lying on the dirty floor in the middle of some sort of temple, hardly able to move due to your wrists and ankles being bound by chains. You struggle to draw in shallow gasps as you blinked through the blurriness of tears that clung to your eyelashes.

“What?” you whisper to yourself, wiggling to try and find an opening in the chains, trying not to hyperventilate as the bindings dug painfully into your skin the more you tried to move.

You bite your lip as your mind races with ideas to escape, to get away from this place, to kill these people for having the audacity to kidnap you, to threaten your friends.

Different scenarios play out repeatedly in your head, but the reality was that you were powerless to do anything.

“Comfortable, are we?”

A goblin slinked her way over to you from the shadows, she was unlike the crude and menacing stereotypes that often plagued her kind. She possessed an eerie, captivating beauty and moved with an uncanny grace; as sinuous as a serpent. Her skin, the color of moss, bore intricate tattoos that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy.

Your skin tingled, hairs on the back of your neck prickling up as the goblin prowled behind your back to watch over your shoulder, her warm breath brushing behind your ear.

“I do hope so - it is truly an unimaginable honor to have a true soul like yourself amongst us, especially one with such... soft, tender flesh.”

A soft whimper pressed from your throat as warm hands slithered over your shoulders, kneading gently into tensed muscles. It sent a shudder down your spine, pressing your entire body in on itself.

“No need to be so coy, dear,” she said. “We’ll be getting to know one another, after all. For what is to come.”

Your lips pressed tight together as you swallowed down a knot in your throat, but your chin was forced up so that your eyes locked with hers. The symbol of the Absolute flashed on her face like a dazzling light, but no matter how much the tadpole wriggled and pulsed inside your head, nothing was happening.

You held no authority here.

“Those little mind tricks won’t work with me,” she sneered, pointing a clawed finger to her temple. “For I too, am a true soul. In fact, I am the one and only true soul!”

“W-w-what do you mea-?”

You were silenced with a hard slap.

“You may not speak in my presence, worm,” the goblin growled. “Speaking of, I’ve got so many of the little buggers up there, I may as well be as powerful as the Absolute themselves!” She barked a laugh and grinned maniacally down at you. “And your parasite will make a fine addition to my collection.”

‘Gods, this bitch is fucking crazy,’ you thought, but your mind immediately seized up and burned as she pried her way into it, and she was not too happy with your choice of words.

“You haven’t even seen crazy yet,” she growled as she traced a claw down the side of your face, drawing a thin line of blood. “I think I’ll pry your worm out myself with my bare hands and make you watch as I consume it before we gut you and roast you on the spit with the rest of the pigs.”

Strong hands took hold of your arms and legs and dragged you onto a slab of stone that had markings etched along the edges. You could just make out they were in Infernal—akin to the ones on Astarion’s back—but like his, you couldn’t decipher their meaning.

You kicked, flailed and screamed in desperation, but you were soon silenced by the goblin as she wrapped her hands around your throat while the others formed a circle around you and started muttering some sort of ritualistic prayer.

Your senses were dulling further by the second and a part of you wanted to give in to the pain, to just let yourself black out and fade away, but something within you pulsated with the will to live. To fight to your very last breath. Was this the parasite’s doing? Or was it something else?

“Just give in to the Absolute, dear, "the goblin said, her tone almost sickeningly gentle. “You’ll be all the better for it.”

“F...f...”

“Aw, your last, dying words,” she purrs, leaning in closer to listen. “I will permit it.”

“...Fuck you,” you spat.

The goblin’s smug expression warps into one of pure fury, and she bares her teeth at you as she grabs a hold of your face with one hand, using the other to slowly inch her claws towards your left eye. Her hiss garbles into a shrill wheeze as a dagger is plunged into her back and through her chest several times, relentlessly. A stray drop of blood trails down her mouth as she screams silently before she is rolled away from you, her body plopping onto the ground with an unceremonious thump.

You try to catch your breath, thanking whatever Gods were out there that they decided to spare you today.

“Don’t thank them, darling, thank me,” a familiar voice teased, though his shaking voice betrayed his light tone. “They would have done bugger all, anyway.”

A tiny, joyful laugh escapes from your raw throat as your eyes fall onto the welcome sight of Astarion, who seems just as relieved to see you.

“Are you alright?” he asks, quickly approaching with what appeared to be a pair of bolt cutters.

You nodded desperately, holding out your wrists.

Astarion took a moment to get the teeth of the bolt cutters properly in place where they wouldn’t bite through the skin but snapped them together fairly easily.

You shuddered a soft sob, relief dripping from your eyes as you rubbed at your wrists. Astarion didn’t wait for further instructions, you needed to move.

He knelt by your feet, slotting one link of the chain between the thick metal teeth, then braced one handle against his thigh. It bruised and dug into the flesh of his leg, but he didn’t stop.

The metal didn’t relent, but neither would he.

“Astarion-”

“Just... hold on, darling!” he says, pausing only briefly to give you a reassuring smile. “I’m no Lae’zel or Karlach; strength isn’t exactly my forte but I’ve... almost got it...!”

Teeth grit, fueled by fear and desperation, Astarion pulled harder and harder, feeling the bruise work against the bone and listening to his back crackle at the strain. He shifted, readjusting – maybe one half of the link would be enough? It was dented – that was a good sign.

You rested both hands on Astarion’s shoulders, steadying you both as he groaned under the effort. He jerked the handle to and fro, desperately trying to force the iron link to submit to iron teeth.

With one final effort, the metal finally crunched, and you were free.

Astarion’s arms encircled you with a strength that made you feel safe and cherished, while you nestled your head against his chest.

“You... how did you...?”

“I knew from the moment they took you,” Astarion said, smoothing down your arms, the motion was slow and helped calm you down a little. “I was, let’s say, aware of their presence in camp. But like you, I wanted to avoid a messy fight and so I tracked you down myself and... thank the gods I did.”

“Guess they helped out a little, after all,” you weakly joked.

“Oh shush,” he softly retorted. “It was fairly easy, what with that awful stench those creatures' reek of.”

“So, it was you... in the meadow.”

“It was,” he smiled, but it was tinged with bitterness. “I almost had you, if only I’d been quicker, or less sloppy, you wouldn’t have...”

His eyes, pools of worry and tenderness, never left your face. He reached out with a hand that trembled, his fingers brushing away strands of your disheveled hair. His touch was feather-light, as if he feared causing you any more discomfort.

With a voice softer than a whisper, he asked, “Did… did they…?” The words carried the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions.

“It’s okay,” you said, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, his lips curling into a tender smile as he leaned into your touch. Gently, he began to inspect your injuries. His fingers traced the contours of your throat, seeking out any sign of any permanent damage. With each touch, he was meticulous, ensuring that he didn’t aggravate the forming bruise.

"Does it hurt much?" he inquires softly, his expression unreadable, almost dazed.

You wince slightly but shake your head. "It's bearable.”

He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're so, so strong, my dear," he whispers, his words a soothing balm to your wounded soul.

His soft gaze hardens as he glares down at the goblins' bodies that littered the room. “Death is too good for them. I’m almost tempted to have them revived so I can make them suffer just a little longer.”

“How did you even manage to kill so many?” you ask, you knew he was a dab hand at killing but even he couldn’t take on a whole horde by himself.

“They were all so engrossed in their little ritual, they didn’t even see me coming,” Astarion said with a shrug. “That’s what you get for blind faith, I suppose.”

You wanted to laugh, but your throat hurt too much.

“Come on, darling,” Astarion gently looped your arm around his shoulder and guided you, going as slow as your aching legs would allow. “Let’s get you home.”

Your eyes met his in a gaze that transcended words, a silent conversation of empathy and understanding. In that moment, the world ceased to exist beyond the contours of your bodies, and the only reality was the sensation of skin against skin, the intoxicating scent of each other's presence, and the unspoken promise that he would never allow this to happen to you again.

xxx

Links to my other Astarion works

Everything's Fine

Restless

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

#bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #my writing #fanfiction #tw kidnapping #request

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wispstalk · 2 months

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Some writing advice for hunting, bc I see a lot of hunting scenes in fantasy that make me itch. More under the cut. Don't read if you're sensitive to blood-and-guts discussion or animal death.

Finding game:

- I don't hunt much these days bc I don't feel like getting my ass out of bed at shitfuck o'clock every weekend during the season. Which you have to do, because much of the time you come home empty-handed. Successful hunts come about when you're out there often.

- You don't really have to be a good tracker to hunt, but you do have to know the basics of your prey and you have to be able to interpret the landscape even if it's unfamiliar. It's less likely a tracker is looking for "bent blades of grass" or whatever and more likely they are noticing game trails, sheltered areas where nests and burrows are, a spot of thick vegetation which would indicate a water source.

- Scat and footprints are useful too ofc but to varying degrees. If I'm hunting deer it's just confirmation that they're in the area; more often I use knowledge of their habits to actually find them. If I were hunting something elusive and solitary like a cougar I would pay more attention to the tracks but that's also a reason people hunt with dogs!

Actually hunting:

- Bows are not the only hunting weapons, though would be most common in ur typical medieval fantasy type setting. Spears and lances, slings with stones, and clubs would also be used. And knives and swords but in this hunter's opinion, FUUUUCK that.

- Lung shot is a quick death. Heart shot and head shot too but that is much harder. Other shots might mean tracking a wounded animal as it runs away. This is where things like broken twigs/bent grass are especially telling, and ofc blood. Small game bleed out faster and won't get as far but you might spend quite a while running after an elk shot in the flank.

- This highly depends on the prey but hunting often involves more sitting around than people realize. I bring a small pad for my booty ass bc sometimes you'll spend hours in a strategic spot waiting for the game to pass by. Also hides (the shelter, not the skins) are a thing and most hunters would consider shelter-building an essential skill.

- Hunting seasons are not entirely a modern convention -- there are better times of year to find different animals. But there would be less concern, historically, about killing animals during the breeding season than we have today.

- Even when I was hunting regularly and more confident, I got a huge adrenaline spike EVERY time I had an animal in my sights.

Big game:

- A deer has a lot of meat on it and though it's not a bad thing to leave a carcass for scavengers, your party of two or three adventurers probably will not go to the trouble of hunting deer unless they have some nearby place to cache, preserve, or trade what they can't eat before it spoils. Are they leaving it behind or do they have some way to take full advantage of such a large kill?

- If your character gets a large game animal they're probably going to field dress it: deal with all the blood and guts on site, then quarter it so it can be packed back to the campsite or whatever. My dad is a big burly mutant man and he cannot carry a deer by himself. You can carry game on poles or horseback too but field dressing is pretty typical in a situation where u can't just fling it in the back of the truck and hang it at home.

- I grew up eating bear and when it comes up I'm often surprised how many people don't know that people hunt bear for meat. It's tasty imo, especially makes a good sausage

- I can hunt deer alone, though company is nice. I wouldn't attempt hunting something more dangerous by myself. Large animals especially are better taken down as a group effort. In the TES context for example it would be kind of insane to hunt horker alone. Not that some folks wouldn't try.

Small game:

- A character who subsists mostly on hunting is going to be eating a lot of small game. They are probably going to use traps and snares in addition to actually going out on hunts.

- Look up "rabbit starvation." Small game is often (but not always) lean and going without fat for a long time can cause serious health issues.

- I joke that you don't hunt turkey, you just go get one. Game birds are kind of stupid. I plan a deer hunt, but I have gone out and shot grouse on a whim.

Processing:

- Draining blood, skinning, plucking, butchering, dealing with all the bones and guts, storage and preservation: pretty time consuming and involved. It's a good excuse for social activity.

- The moneyed classes likely would not process their kills themselves, unless they're doing some kinda randyll tarly masculinity flex for the symbolism. Kitchen staff or a local butcher would handle it.

- A good skinning knife is kinda wide and short. Some game knives have a rounded tip which keeps it from puncturing the skin in case of accidental slippage.

- Skinning is done with a light hand bc puncturing the digestive system means you've poisoned the meat. I will say it is less difficult than I expected it to be the first time I tried it.

- We don't eat a lot of offal in the US but a deer liver, for example, would be considered prime meat by many and eaten first. Bear, walrus, and seal liver contain toxic amounts of vitamin A and would be thrown away.

- I've been told every animal has enough brains to tan its own hide, but I think there are some exceptions. It's definitely true of deer and elk. With small animals like rabbits it's hardly worth the effort of getting the brains out and other things can be used but brain tanned leather is soooo soft and nice.

- Hides and pelts are useful and valuable and would be kept or traded if circumstances allowed. You can tightly roll a hide to keep it from drying out before tanning, or you can freeze it, basically indefinitely. You can also air dry it once scraped clean and soften it later, which is what fur hunters would most likely do for efficiency's sake. Tanning is also so so so fucking gross imo. Really slimy process, and tanneries REEK.

That's all I can think of for now and this is already hella long but the takeaway is that it is generally a pretty involved activity and more impactful on lifestyle than I usually see depicted. So there ya have it

#meta #writing

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slvt4felix · 2 months

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♡ I See the Light ♡

Pairing -> lostprince!felix x thief!reader WC -> ~6,700 words Includes -> tangled!au, violence? (frying pan incident), reader is a criminal, fem!reader, lowkey abusive and manipulative "mother", kidnapping, magic, Bbokari as Pascal Summary -> After stealing a particularly precious item from the King and Queen, the royal guards push you deep into the woods during an exhilarating chase. You stumble across an interesting tower and start to climb, unaware of what you will come across once you reach the inside. Or rather, who you will come across and how this unique person will completely change the trajectory of your life. Author's Note -> I am like the biggest fan of Tangled. It's my all time favorite Disney movie. And when I think of Felix the first thing that comes to mind is sunshine and I feel like he is so Rapunzel coded. So yeah... don't mind that this fic is literally just all my favorite things combined. I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also this was only supposed to be one part, but I'm slowly starting to realize I'm really bad at writing short stories... so this story will definitely be multiple parts!

Masterlist ♡ Next Part

You pant, desperately trying to catch your breath as your legs move faster than they ever have before. They are starting to ache, along with your feet, your lungs, and just about everywhere else. But you can't stop, not right now. Not with the heavy footsteps just a few feet behind you and horses loud in the distance.

You stole something. Well, technically you have stolen many things, but what can you say? You were an orphan and never given the chance to make money more nobly. And this time, the object was just something you couldn't pass up.

You keep running, eyes trained directly in front of you. You desperately want to look behind you to see how much time you have, see just how much danger you're in, but the adrenaline and fear have you locked in. You won't stop, won't glance back at the angry guards until you manage to get some headway.

Your boot-clad feet heavily trample the ground underneath you, damaging the delicate blades of grass and petals of flowers that seem to multiply by the second. If only you were able to look down, you would notice the nature changing subtly underneath you. The rocky area you were previously in changed into a thick forest, covered in clover and wildflower.

If you weren't in this situation, perhaps you would've taken the moment to admire it. To take in your surroundings, breathing in the beauty of nature. But again, now's not the time. Maybe one day you will have the ability to stop and smell the flowers, but today there are more important matters at hand.

You hear a twig snap behind you and an unsettling crash. You instantly realize it to be a branch in the path that you had just jumped over. Luckily enough, after years of training, running, and stealing you can navigate your way through many terrains if needed. However, it seems like the guards behind you weren't so lucky. You swiftly turn your head and find exactly what you expect. The two burly men who had been hot on your trail now lay on a pile on the grass as the distance grows between you and them. You chuckle a bit to yourself upon realizing they must have dropped like dominos, one tripping with the other landing right on top. At this point, you were thankful for anything that could make you laugh.

Looking back ahead of you, you zone back into your mission. Your body aching to take a breather. You take a sharp turn, long used to getting out of these situations. This route change leads you down a steep hill. You almost tumble all the way down, but thankfully your dark brown boots have enough traction on them to help you safely make your way down. You jump off the last little way because what's escaping without a little extra adventure.

Now being back on the soft flat grass, you take in your surroundings, analyzing to try to make the best choice. The guys weren't likely to stay down for too long, so you have to make a decision and fast. You don't have time to try to get ahead, they would catch up in no time.

You realize you have been running for a while to try to escape the men. You weren't keeping track, but this is about as far as you have ever made it outside the kingdom. Everything looks untouched, giving off the vibes that maybe you shouldn't be here. It's ethereal looking, yet a bit unsettling at how everything seems to be in perfect harmony. The branches on the trees sway harshly in the wind and feels as if you were the one to disturb the peace, your presence entirely unwelcome.

You shake off the thoughts and roll your shoulders a bit. This was not the time for superstitions or paranoia.

'Maybe if those stupid guards hadn't chased me for so long,' you think bitterly. But in reality, you know you can't hold it against them. It's just their job, just like this is yours. It's just the way it is.

Typically you would have everything completely planned out. Especially the escape route. But, there was really no way to prepare for this. You usually don't get caught soon enough to actually get chased.

Panic floods your body as you begin to hear angry voices again. You're running out of time. The goal today was not to go to prison. You sigh angrily realizing there really isn't any simple escape route this time around. Before your brain even processes it, your feet are moving on their own accord, simply in fight or flight mode. But, today seems to be your lucky day and nature seems to be on your side.

You glance behind you after a few steps noticing that the men still hadn't caught up enough for you to be in their vision. In this slight hesitation, your foot catches on a branch growing from the ground likely belonging to one of the beautiful weeping willow trees surrounding you. It appears that the trees have inhabited this place for ages, their roots buried deep into the group and long wispy branches that hide practically everything behind them.

You stumble forward, your arms unable to find anything to grasp. You land harshly on your knees, making you hiss out in pain. You were definitely going to be covered in grass stains after this.

You quickly gather yourself, standing to your feet taking in your new surroundings. You falter a bit, unsteady due to the weight of your backpack making you a bit unbalanced. You must have fallen through into a small cave. The willow's long branches came down to hang in the entrance, blocking anyone from seeing the small hideaway. You're surrounded by rough, cool stone. There's a noticeable temperature difference that provides relief to your damp skin. The sun was beating on you aggressively the whole run, but hey at least it was bright enough out to see in front of you. It was the only reason you were brave enough to do this in broad daylight. Although it was easier to slip away in the dark, sometimes the paths of the kingdom and the forest surrounding can get pretty difficult to navigate after dark.

You hear heavy footsteps coming from the area you had just narrowly managed to escape. They sound pretty scattered, your mind providing you with the image of multiple royal guards rushing into the serene environment. You almost giggle at the thought of them all dressed head to toe in golden armor. A large sun engrained in their chest plate.

You peek slightly through the covering, seeing exactly what you had imagined. They are searching the area hastily in hopes of finding any clues as to which way you went. They look like children playing dress up, some of their spartan-like helmets falling over their eyes when they turn their heads obviously not fitting them properly.

One stalks past the opening, startling you backward. You hold your breath in fear. They may look silly, but that doesn't diminish the fact that they could positively ruin your life if they manage to capture you. You make your way farther into the cave, expecting to run into a rock wall blocking you in. You had planned to just hide it out in here until it was safe to leave, but soon you realize there may be another way to go about it. It seems to not really be a cave like you had initially thought. Rather, it appeared to be a tunnel of some sort. As you continue to walk the light grows dim. Before you know it, you can no longer see more than 2 steps in front of you. You put your arms out trying to feel in front of you. It would suck to run face-first into solid rock.

You bite your lip gently, starting to grow a little nervous at the lack of light and ability to see what's ahead. But you just have to deal with it at this point, anything to put more distance between you and the angry guards.

Soon you spy a light at the end of the tunnel, opposite from where you entered. You no longer hear any yelling or stomping and it gives you hope that maybe on the other side, there would be no one searching for you. They surely would have made it there by now if they could find it, right?

You emerge from the tunnel, eyes squinting as the sun's bright rays abuse your eyes again. When you finally adjust to the new lighting, you look around in amazement. You were somehow in a completely new area, large mountains and hills blocking the place in. It was unlike anything you had ever seen before. You had thought where you had just come from looked untouched, but this right here was actual nature at its finest.

It wouldn't be hard to believe you were the first human to step foot here in ages, the area completely overgrown with plants and animals. Yet, there was one unavoidable thing that proved that theory wrong. Standing high amid the greenery was a tall tower. It appeared nearly ancient, the stone crumbling a bit with vines wrapping their way up the walls.

It's honestly mystical with a stunning waterfall coming from one of the mountains just beyond the tower, painting the scene with a light mist. You notice that as the sun hits the vapor just right it creates little mini rainbows.

"Woah" you whisper. You aren't usually the type of person to talk to yourself, mostly preferring to keep your thoughts in your mind, but at this moment it felt perfectly justified. You spin in a circle, trying to take everything in. You had never really seen anything like this, despite the beautiful architecture the kingdom was made up of. This felt like something out of a fairy tale. Which you were so not used to. You aren't typically the main character. More likely the shady best friend or the villain who never really lives up to their name.

For a minute, you feel like someone else. Like one of the beautiful girls in the books you read who end up with the loves of their lives. Or even the protagonist in a high fantasy novel. At this point, you honestly wouldn't be that surprised if a fairy with sparkling wings flew out in front of you. It didn't even really feel like real life.

You approach the tower, eager to explore what you have found. You make sure to carefully walk across the wood that appears to have been thrown over the stream haphazardly in an attempt at a bridge. It doesn't exactly look stable and you weren't looking to get wet. But it was the only way across and you just had to get a closer look.

Surprisingly, you make it across with no damage and you sigh in relief. The material of your outfit does not feel nice wet. You had learned that the hard way last time you had stolen something.

You scan the perimeter of the tower, shocked at the realization that there is no door. You double-check, a little put-off at the idea, and again find no door. Not even an opening or one that had been covered by the overgrown bushes and flowers that had taken over the landscape.

'Who makes a tower with no entrance?' you question, your stomach turning slightly beginning to get an eerie feeling. It was just a little… odd. But who were you to say how something should be built? You aren't exactly an architect. And maybe things were just built differently back then.

You knew it was ridiculous to try and justify something as weird as this, but you couldn't help your brain trying to connect the dots. But it just doesn't make sense. You take a few steps back, trying to figure out how to approach the situation. The lack of an entrance is disheartening as you were beginning to think maybe you could've stayed here for a while. There was no way you could go back to the villages of the kingdom right now. They would definitely be searching for you. And if you could find an easy way into this place, it would be a nice spot to hide out until everything cools down.

You spot windows near the top of the tower and suddenly you realize, the window directly above you is wide open. That is your chance. You feel around the stone bricks that make up the base of the building hoping you can catch your fingers in the cracks. You manage to get a little bit of a grip, but not much. There's no way you could make it all the way up there by just climbing. None of the rocks jut out enough.

You gasp out, an idea rushing into your head. You reach down where a leather sheath is strapped to your thigh. You carefully grab your dagger out. it was only one, but it could definitely help. You didn't like carrying a knife on you, but it did become really useful sometimes. You didn't use it much, especially not to hurt people. It's more of a just-in-case option. You bring the metal up to your eyes admiring how the afternoon sunlight reflects off it, the handle carefully engrained with beautiful roses.

You would be lying if you said it didn't kind of make you feel like a badass.

You lodge the dagger into the cracks and use it to try and pull yourself up a bit. It was definitely helpful as you thought. You kick your feet against the stone, hoping to find a decent push-off spot. With the traction on your shoes and your leather gloves protecting your hands both providing a bit of grip, this might actually be possible. And at this point, what exactly did you have to lose? It would be such a nice shelter to rest in for the night.

You carefully, make your way up the tower, thankful for the wood that occasionally wraps the bricks giving you a place to catch your breath.

Finally, you manage to make it to the top, your chest heaving slightly and your fingers burning from the pressure. In your haste to pull yourself up the last little bit of the wall and slide through the window, you fail to notice the soft noises coming from inside. There's some shuffling, but you brush it off assuming it's some animal that had also decided to make this place its shelter.

You throw your leg through the window taking a second to sit there and catch your breath. You're straddling the bit of wood framing the window, it's delicately carved and decorated with light purple flowers on the ledge. You take a mental note of them, hoping to admire them later once you're settled.

Deeming yourself steady enough, you pull your other leg through standing up in the large room. As much as you want to take everything in, you first slip your backpack off. Nervous that things had gotten jostled on the way up. You open the buckle and slip the top open. You set the bag gently on the ground, squatting next to it as you pull out a sparkling crown.

You sigh in relief that it was still there, it hadn't fallen out. There wasn't even a singular scratch on it. The feeling of the cool metal weighing heavy in your hands punches a sigh of relief from your lungs.

"Thank God," you whisper to yourself, breaking the gentle silence of the room you entered. You had stolen the crown. It’s why the royal guards were after you. You had entered the castle through the ceiling and stolen the crown, the guards just barely noticing as you were exiting. It was the most valued object in the whole kingdom. The importance of the crown is in how it is associated with the lost prince.

It was the most well-known story in the country and maybe even the whole world. Everyone had been so ecstatic. The Queen and King were having a baby. An heir to take over the throne when they grew old and gray. But, the Queen had grown increasingly sick as the pregnancy progressed. You had been just a baby when all this was happening, but over the years you have heard of the story many times. It was hard not to. It was everywhere you went.

Thankfully, the Queen recovered. They had found a magical flower that had the power to heal her. The baby came soon after and the whole kingdom rejoiced. They had a beautiful baby boy, with golden locks and soft skin. They released a bright lantern into the indigo sky in celebration.

However, everything went wrong that night. The new parents had heard their baby cry in the early hours of the morning but when they got there he was already gone. Never to be seen again. They still hold hope that maybe one day their baby will return home. Even going as far as to hold an annual festival for him and releasing hundreds of floating lanterns into the sky on his birthday. It was honestly a gorgeous sight.

You go to put the crown back into your bag, still nervous to get scratches or fingerprints on it. It was worth a lot of money. A deal you couldn’t pass up. Just as your fingers leave the smooth metal you hear a shuffling noise coming from your side. Your head shoots up looking to discover where the noise is coming from.

You're shocked at the sight that greets you. You stand up, nearly stumbling back at the surprise. There in front of you was… another human? How in the world had he gotten up here? You didn't hear anyone else climb up after you and it's hard to believe someone could do that silently. Did that mean they had already been here when you arrived? Why were they here?

So many questions flood your head that you barely have time to react as an object comes flying toward your head. You quickly duck down, just barely missing the dark metal by an inch. You pop back up, thankfully agile from all your years as a criminal. Once you regain your footing, your eyes take in the sight of a young man standing in front of you. He has probably the lightest blonde hair you have ever seen in your life paired with deep brown eyes. The sun shines on him, making him look as if he was the sun lighting up the room. You're a little taken aback at the sight of him. Typically you are pretty good at reading people, but it seems like you aren't exactly making the best choices today. He doesn't exactly look like the type to try to hit somebody over the head with a heavy frying pan, but here he is sanding with the weapon of choice in his right hand.

He stares back at you while standing in a nervous, defensive stance. But to be fair, you would also be feeling quite uncomfortable if you had tried to take someone's head off and somehow managed to miss.

The stare lasts longer than most people would deem necessary, silence yet again filling the large stone room. Yet, neither of you break it. You're still reeling in shock from the frying pan.

Finally, you gather yourself and question him. "Did you really just try to hit me with a frying pan?" you ask in disbelief. His eyes widen when you speak. He looks more shocked than you feel, which is really saying something. He looks as if he has never interacted with another human before. For a split second, you wonder if maybe you were being too harsh on him.

But before you can get another word in a call sounds from outside.

"Felix, my love, I'm home," a woman yells in the distance. The boy's, who you now assume to be Felix, head shoots to the window in a panic. He turns to you, now looking even more anxious than before.

"You have to go, you have to go like now. She will actually hurt you. Like with more than a frying pan," he whispers as he comes much closer, his voice a surprisingly gravelly tone. You can practically feel the vibrations of it on your skin and you're stunned for a moment, frozen in place. He grabs your wrist, not unkindly, and leads you to the back wall of the room. You watch him carefully as he proceeds to open the door to an armoire, making you wonder what exactly his plan is. He gestures inside and you simply stare at him struggling to comprehend the situation.

"I'm not hiding in your closet," you spit, slightly insulted he would even suggest that.

"Do you want to get killed?" He asks, his tone firmer this time. You can tell he's serious, and your hands start to shake upon realizing how urgent he sounds.

He continues on despite your silence, eager to get you to follow along. "Listen, I don't know who you are or why you're here, but this is really bad timing. I was going talk to her about something important and now... you're here," he starts sounding utterly defeated. He knows explaining the situation to a random stranger likely wasn't going to help, but he was still going to try.

"She doesn't normally listen to me and she definitely won't if she has to deal with you, so just please hide. Just until I can get her to leave. Then I guess I'll figure out what to do," he finishes with a sigh and stares back at you hopefully. You simply nod slowly a little stunned. Felix realizes this is the closest he'll probably get to agreeance and doesn't try to convince you any further.

He grabs your hand gently as you step into the closet, helping you stay stable in the crowded space. You're surrounded by clothes of every color, so many blues and pinks that if you squint hard enough you can practically imagine you're walking into cotton candy.

"Just stay quiet, I'll try to get her to go away," He states quietly. He nods at you reassuringly and it comforts you. You still feel very trapped, but you no longer feel as nervous, rather trusting the man to take care of it for you. You don't know why he hasn't freaked out at you yet, but if he was going to, it probably would've already happened. He shuts the door slowly, dimming the small space. You watch his figure until the last little bit of light can no longer slip through, shutting you off from the room you had just been in.

Thank God you're not claustrophobic.

Once the door is completely shut, you're unable to see anything aside from black for a while, your eyes refusing to adjust to the sudden darkness. However, you listen carefully to everything happening outside the armoire in hopes of getting a better read on everything happening.

You hear Felix shuffling around in the room, obviously cleaning things up and maybe even hiding things considering his fearful reaction to the women's yell. You can hear her shout again from outside, but you can no longer make out what she says. The wood is too thick to depict more than a murmur. But, Felix seems to have heard what she has said. The noises from the room get much louder and rushed. Before suddenly they stop.

You hold your breath in the quiet, anxiously waiting for what comes next.

Felix takes a deep breath, glancing around the room one last time to make sure everything is nice and clean. He had noticed your bag left by the window, the stolen crown peeking out. A little chick, whom Felix had named Bbokari had been poking around next to it making him laugh in adoration of the small creature. He must have hidden when you had broken in, scared of the stranger. But that was to be expected, considering every time mother arrived home, Felix would tell the small chick to hide, pushing him out of sight. Now, Mother wasn't mean or an animal abuser. She had never hurt Bbokari before, but Felix honestly did not want to take that chance. She wasn't exactly a fan of critters or any type of outsider making their way into her tower.

He gives the chick a tiny pat on the head with his index finger, the small bird tweeting happily, before curiously picking up the crown. It shined brightly, the sun catching on the metal as he picked it up.

What in the world? he thinks in confusion. Out of all the things Mother has brought home, this is definitely not something he's seen before. It does, however, remind him of the fairytales he had read as a kid before she had confiscated them in an angry fit. She didn't like when he read about that stuff. It had confused him greatly, as she had never really told him why. So, rather than reading about princesses he was often stuck with books about nature or fiction stories about romance.

The chick pecks at his foot, urgently, trying to remind him of the situation at hand. He snaps out of it quickly putting the crown back in the leather bag. He brings it over to the stairs in the corner. He peels back the one broken step, shoving the bag beneath it. Not even mother knew of this hiding spot. He had to hide the bag, she would ask way too many questions about where that came from. He knows that realistically he should be scared about a stranger practically breaking into the tower. But maybe there's a small part of him that wants to prove himself to his mother. Show her that he really can handle himself. He's turning 18 tomorrow and maybe just maybe now that he's old enough, she'll let him go.

He's had this dream since he was little, to see the floating lights. Every year, they appear on his birthday. Hundreds of bright yellow lights fill the sky, and he cannot seem to figure out why. Either way though, he can't help but feel like they're meant for him. And every year, without fail, he watches them. He looks forward to it all year round, waiting for the day he can see the floating lights gleam again. It's his dream to see them up close in person, but it's starting to seem like it may be simply that- just a dream. How silly of him to think it's something that could actually happen.

Mother becomes very angry anytime he asks to leave the tower, or simply mentions anything about the outside world, but he feels confident this time. She's definitely going to let him go; she has to right? It's his only hope.

"Darling, I'm not getting any younger down here," Mother Gothel yells, sounding exasperated. He quickly picks Bbokari up, hiding him on a ledge behind a curtain, giving him a loving smile before rushing to go help her up.

She had created this tower without a door, purposefully hoping to keep him as far away from the outside and other people as she could. And hell, he couldn't blame her. After all the stories she has told him, he's thankful he's never been exposed to the harshness of the world.

Felix jogs over the window, leaning over the edge, feeling the soft spring breeze blow through his hair.

"Coming Mother!" he yells, adding excitement to his voice. Despite his earlier nervousness, he can't help but be excited whenever she comes home. She often takes long trips, only coming home for days at a time. He'll take any sort of human interaction he can get.

Felix grabs the rope from the wall next to the window, swinging it over the hook hanging down. He throws the rope over, watching his Mother grab it harshly once it hits the ground. Since there is no door, they use a sort of pully system. There's a loop at the bottom of the rope that mother slips her foot into and she holds onto the rope as Felix pulls her the rest of the way up.

It was exhausting, but he's gotten used to it over the years. Luckily, he's gotten a lot stronger over the years. Especially since now that he's older she goes on her trips a lot more. Don't get him wrong, he's thankful, he really is as these trips usually involve getting food or gifts for Felix and her. However, the days can get lonely and fast. There's only so much cleaning, baking, painting, and singing a person can do. It's the reason the walls of the tower are completely covered in different paintings. Some have even been painted over multiple times; he ran out of space long ago. Being home alone for days on end without being able to go outside isn't exactly the dream life some people would think. But he gets it. There are reasons he can't go outside and he must abide to keep himself safe.

So, he pushes the anger and resentment deep inside, painting on his happiest face for her to come home to. He finishes pulling her up and wipes a bead of sweat from his face as she finally steps into the sun-lit room.

She walks over to his bed, placing down her basket and shawl before returning to him. She always looks a bit run down when she comes home, her hair a bit more grey, wrinkles on her forehead, and this haunted look in her eyes. Honestly, it's enough to make him never want to go outside.

The woman caresses Felix's cheek gently, looking into his eyes. He has always loved whenever she was gentle with him, providing love and care, but it's starting to becoming rarer with each passing day.

"Felix, I don't know how you manage to do that day after day, dear," She says softly with a bit of concern.

"It's nothing, Mother," he reassures her, despite how exhausting it truly is. She lets go of him, before he can even finish the sentence, her gaze scanning the rest of the room.

"You keep it so nice and clean in here, it's so nice for Mumsy to come home to," she says, always impressed by the things he manages to get done while she's away. Felix cringes a bit at the statement, knowing he had finished cleaning at barely 7:30 am. It truly was the easiest part of the day. Honestly, the hardest part is always the waiting. Waiting for someone, anyone, to talk to or really just anything to do.

Mother walks over to his mirror that stands near the wall. It's circular and nothing fancy, framed in wood, but she looks at it as if it holds all the answers to life, like it's the most important thing in the world. Sometimes Felix wonders if she loves the mirror more than she loves him, but he quickly pushes that thought down, not wanting it to sour his mood anymore than it already has.

He follows her over to the mirror watching in disdain as she examines her face. Lifting her eyebrows and wincing as the skin drops back down, wrinkled and droopy from her trip. She glances up at him, making eye contact through the reflective glass. In this moment, Felix decides he needs to ask her. He's been waiting all day, or really his whole life, and he really just needs to put it out there.

He opens his mouth ready to admit his dream to her, but he's quickly cut off.

"Felix, my love, would you sing for me?" she asks, and despite her trying to hide it, he can detect the desperation in her voice. He's learned to pick out even the slightest change of tone from her over the years.

Felix's eyes widen, almost comically. How could he have forgotten. It's always the first thing she asks for when she gets back. Of course, she would want him to sing for her. His plan is just going to have to wait for a few more minutes.

He nods repeatedly, rushing off again to grab all the necessary supplies. He places Mothers chair down in the center of the room, before grabbing his flimsy stool, setting it in front of the chair. He sits down quickly, trying to hurry the situation along despite knowing how mother likes to take her time during the process. Going too quickly can become a bit more shocking than refreshing, but today was not the time for relaxation.

Mother finally comes over and takes a seat in her usual chair. She grabs Felix's hands and he can only hope she doesn't feel how sweaty they are. He's so nervous about how the conversation is going to go.

His mind is racing as he opens his mouth to start singing. The words coming with ease, practically muscle memory now with how many times he has sang it for her.

"Flower gleam and glow," he starts, his low voice bouncing off the circular walls. He can see her instantly start to relax as his voice fills the room. It makes Felix feel a bit better, knowing how happy it makes her when he sings. As the song continues, he starts to speed up, again eager to get it over with. Mother's eyes open again in panic, wanting the feeling to last longer.

"Wait-" she starts to say, but Felix has already made it to the ending line. As the song comes to a close, Mother jolts forward practically turning into a new person. Her hair is back to it's usual shiny raven color, a new sense of life brimming from her eyes, and all the wrinkles immediately disappearing from her skin. She's young again, just like she likes to be. He can't blame her, who doesn't wish to be young again.

Normally at this time, Felix would compliment her or tell her how he finds her beautiful before and after, but this time there is something else weighing on his mind. He can only hope that the wood of the closet is thick enough and that he had managed to close the door all the way, knowing sometimes it wouldn't latch completely.

This is the last thing he wants you to find out about. He's terrified you'll turn out to be one of those ruffians and thugs Mother warns him about, wanting to steal him away and use him for his magic.

Oh yeah, Felix has this magical ability where he can heal people with just his touch and voice. He can easily make anyone young again and heal all kinds of wounds. It's why he's in this tower, locked away. It's to keep him safe. Mother doesn't want his power to end up in the wrong hands.

She looks down at Felix in disbelief, not understanding why he is acting this way. He stands up abruptly from the small stool, the same one he has sat in since he was a child, and starts to talk, unable to keep it in anymore.

"Mother, tomorrow is a very special day. Do you know what day it is?" he asks, mouth running a mile a minute. She stands up with him, grabbing his wrist lightly, trying to stop him from pacing around the room. All the energy is making her head spin.

He doesn't even wait a second to let her respond, before reminding her, "It's my birthday!"

"Ah ah ah," she starts, "I distinctly remember that your birthday was last year." Felix tries not to let himself physically deflate at this. She always loves to play games like this.

"That's the funny thing about birthdays, they happen every year," he says gently, not wanting to anger her.

"What is it you want this year? How about those muffins you really liked from that one bakery?" she says, figuring that's what this conversation was about.

"Actually, Mother I was thinking, maybe I could go see the floating lights?" he asks, "The one's that fill the sky every year on my birthday."

At this her gaze immediately darkens, and he realizes that he was right. It's only a dream. It's not something that could come true. He should have known better. She would never let him leave the tower. She's told him this so many times before.

Yet, he couldn't help but try. It's who he is. He's too hopeful and innocent for his own good.

"Felix, you know how I feel about you leaving the tower," she states, her voice a low tone. Felix suppresses a shiver, his body reacting anxiously.

"But Mother-" he starts, hoping to explain himself.

"No buts, they are just stars, Felix, nothing worth putting yourself in danger for," she says, using an argument he had thought of many times.

"They aren't though, I have charted every single star in that sky, and it just doesn't fit. I can't help but feel like they are meant for me."

"Felix, do not argue with me" she says, her volume rising drastically. He knows she can get worked up fast with sensitive topics, but he really wishes she would just listen to him.

"Don't ever ask to leave this tower again," she says sternly as her grip around his wrist tightens harshly. He winces, tears pooling in his eyes, but he doesn't let them fall.

'Don't cry,' he repeats desperately in his head. She would never take him seriously or believe he could handle himself if he cried in front of her.

"Yes, Mother" he says back quietly, knowing there is no use fighting with her. She pats him gently on the head, satisfied with his answer, before moving back over to her basket. She starts to put her things back in their rightful spots, unpacking after her trip.

"Mother-" Felix starts again only to stop as her head aggressively snaps towards him, anger evident on her face.

"Enough about the stars, Felix," she yells in disbelief. Felix shrinks back instinctually. That wasn't even what he was going to say.

"I was actually thinking maybe you could get me more of those special paints you got me a few years ago," he says timidly, trying to come up with something else that she would be more willing to comply with.

"That's a 3-day trip," she sighs out in annoyance.

"I just thought it would be a better idea than... you know," he explains.

"Alright, dear, are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I know I'm safe as long as I'm here," he says back knowing just what she wants to hear. Felix helps as she goes to repack up her stuff, preparing for the long trip ahead of her.

"I love you, my flower," Mother says before she leaves the tower again, climbing down the rope to the soft grass of the outside world.

"I love you more," he says back. It's his usual response, but this time the words feels heavy coming off his tongue, almost as if it doesn't really weigh as truthfully in his heart as it did this morning. Everything just feels wrong.

Bbokari steps out from behind the curtain, chirping at him loudly. It was surprising how loud such a tiny animal could be. Felix walks over to him, gently petting him.

"Everything's going to be okay," he says softly, unsure if he's truly assuring the chick or himself.

A loud snore startles him from the interaction. Bbokari turns his head cutely towards the closet where the noise came from.

Felix sighs bumping his head lightly on the wall above the ledge.

“I don’t want to handle that right,” he says with a chuckle. Bbokari just looks up at him adamantly and Felix knows exactly what the little bird is trying to say. He can’t just keep you in the closet.

Felix rolls his eyes playfully before heading over to the armoire to let you out. However, he does grab his frying pan on the way… just in case.

More parts coming soon!!

#skz #stray kids #skz x reader #lee felix #stray kids x reader #tangled #repunzel #disney #alternate universe #reader insert #fem reader #stray kids felix #felix x reader

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the-white-void · 3 months

Text

Oh! You've Heard This Story?

Summary: Once again, your end has begun, and the story starts anew. Yet, she remembers this story; one told over and over again.

Warning: This contains mentions of violence and repetitive deaths which may be uncomfortable to some readers.

One || two || three

Taglist: @kthehoeforfictionalmen @pix-stuff @kthehoeforfictionalmen @time-shardz @scarletttcroww @mysteriaqueen @atsukawolfcat @junkoslette @mef0rg0r @altheq0 @obliviousariies2007

Blood of gold stained the podium as the blade of the Archon of Inazuma sliced your neck. Leaving the crowds that once cheered for your end turned to fear and shallow worries of regret.

You've seen this before. As your head descended from your body, your consciousness still lingered, even for only a moment. The screams of agony laced with regret and sorrow; the cries of the archons as they saw the precious blood that was wasted on the floor.

That is how it always ended.

Your mind now eases as your death finally comes, then onto the next show.

You open your eyes once more to the lush green grass tickled your ears, and the trees swayed its leaves on your rags; the warm rays that lay on your skin. A scene all too familiar.

You have given up on trying to survive on this game of cat and mouse; simply letting it all roll like a ball, because out of all the countless times you tried to escape before were all futile, even giving up showed the same ending.

There is no end to this scripted play.

Fate is like a chord. No matter how you pull to change it, it will always return to its original form.

You pick yourself up, dust off a few leaves stuck on your rags and walked up to a nearby tree bearing some apples. You reach out for one close yet ripe.

"Maybe Amber noticed me already and might shoot my arm." You blurted out as the apple twisted and fell on your face. "Ah! It's already loose." you mumbled with your brow raised before picking up the apple from the ground; you dusted off the dirt then took a bite. "Doesn't matter, you missed." You uttered as you look to the side where the brunette wearing red hid from afar; her bow lowered from when it first had you a target.

Her face painted with worry and confusion, she focuses her bow to you once more, ready for your retaliation. Yet, you walk back to the spot where you first woke up; legs crossed with your bum on the ground as you continued to eat the apple.

"What?" The brunette mumbles with her brows furrowed, confused why you just say down defenceless while chewing on your apple till you ate it all and the core was left. "Could it be a trick? Are they just luring me in?" Thoughts flooded her head thinking about what you could be planning if you already know where she was.

After laying the core of the apple you just ate on the ground, you look back at where the brunette was hiding. "Even if you are here to catch the imposter, there is still etiquette for how knights capture fiends." You spoke with a sigh and a small smile, waiting for her to shoot her bow, or throw Baron Bunny to your face.

An arrow of fire flew past you and hit the tree right behind you, barely grazing your hair. Amber then emerges from the bushes while her bow was still pointed at you "You have the right to remain silent. Your actions of impersonating the divine deity..." She continues to mouth out paragraphs you've heard countless times before, still smiling without a care in the world.

In a nation distant to the airy breezes of Mondstat, in the land hidden in the forests where rain comes and goes, the land where knowledge is weighed more than mora, Sumeru.

Lying inside the Sanctuary of Surasthana where the Archon resides, she sprung up with a cold sweat, as if she just had a nightmare. Her gasps were heavy and her hands shaking; her dream was as vivid as if it were real, like the times she would occasionally possess the receptionist of the Adventurers Guild, however, unlike those dreams, it was not coveted by the mind of a human nor god. The scene was too real to be revered as a dream.

"Oh... Very well,I'll see you all. Soon."

Were the last words of the imposter before their head departed from their body. "What did they mean? Will it happen again? I saw their memories; it happened to them over and over again. Like a samsara, after reaching an end it'll go back to the beginning. How long have they been doing this? Do they have a goal?" Questions drowned out all their senses before a loud arrogant voice broke her focus.

A short man wearing blue accents and a large hat was snapping his fingers in front of the archon's face with an annoyed look. "Hey! I've been calling you for ages; you said you wanted me to do something." His tone filled with salt and bitterness as he pulled his arms back together crossed.

Lesser Lord Kusanali, the dendro Archon, one who was calm and collected was in a cold sweat, unable to comprehend what reality she had just seen. If it were to happen in this world as well, would it too crumble and wither away.

"H- hat guy..." The dendro Archon's voice trembled when she muttered her words. Looking towards Hat Guy with her eyes widened and trembling "What happened these past few days? There was the imposter a- and..." Her voice trails off as she tries to word out what happened, but her tongue falters to convey what was on her mind.

"The imposter? That news just landed in the Akademia an hour ago. I guess that's what you can expect of a god who can read minds." He mumbles while the Archon gathers her thoughts.

"What? But the imposter was just about to be executed. Everyone was there and... the imposter was... calm... they- they said something then… then…” her eyes wonder off around the room remembering the words of the imposter.

“... Hat guy. Take me to Mondstat; I need to talk to the imposter.” Her eyes were then set on the short man; eyes painted with determination and fear, set on speaking with the one branded as an imposter, yet whose last is shrouded in a thick fog of uncertainty.

The man that looked at the Dendro god puzzled and perplexed. “What?! Are you- just when you hear about an imposter; you wanna go meet them?!! Don't you know how dangerous that thing could be?” His aloof and sour tone shifted to a raised and concerned voice after hearing the Archon's desire to met with the imposter.

Kusanali sighs with her eyes faltering, wondering if it just a ruse after all. She ponders for some time, recollecting and organising the memories she had of the imposter. “The execution just happened with the Electro Archon beheading the the imposter, but before that, the imposter allowed me to look through their memories, then…” her memory was then blank.

“Can they dream?” Hat Guy's voice cut her focus. “If you really wanna talk to them, you can go in their dream and just talk to them there.”

The idea lit up the Lesser Lord's face “Yes. Their dreams. They looked young, they probably still have dreams, like escaping… or… wait… can they dream?” Her voice questioned the mentality and consciousness of the imposter.

#astronetwrk #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact #sagau idea #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin fic ideas #genshin fanfic #sagau isekai #genshin nahida #nahida #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #hat guy #amber genshin impact #genshin amber

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relatablepicturesoffinnmertens · 2 years

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#adventure time #atimers #finn mertens #finn the human #season 5 #blade of grass #also jake #also extra #‘submission’

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riordanness · 3 months

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i think he knows - [l.laurence]

wordcount: 1.3K

requested: no (but i am working on all my requests)

warnings: maybeee a wonka reference (my bad)

I lay side by side with Jo March, our hands intertwined, staring up at the clouds.

“You’re kidding, right?” Jo laughs. “That is definitely not a giraffe. It looks like a flamingo.”

I wrinkle my nose. “No way. It looks closer to a melted chocolate bar than a flamingo.”

She nudges me and laughs again. “Whatever.”

I sigh and close my eyes, my spare fingers playing with the blades of grass we’re lying on.

“This is the life,” Jo says quietly, as if she can read my thoughts.

“Mhm…” I reply, feeling sleepy and sun sick. We’ve been out all morning in the hot summer sun, and the effects are finally catching up on me.

“You know what would make today better, though?”

“What?” I’m barely paying attention now, my sleepiness wanting to take over.

“If Laurie was here.” Jo says it like it’s poetry.

I’m immediately awake. I sit up. “What did you say?”

Jo looks amused. “I said…that today would have been better if Laurie was here with us.”

I try to downplay my reaction with a shrug. “Yeah, that would have been nice I suppose.”

“Oh, y/n,” Jo teases. “Don’t try to pretend you aren’t head over heels in love with him.”

I look at her sharply. “Jo, don’t talk about such things.”

“It's true, though,” Jo insists. “Isn’t it?”

I look away. Of course it was true. Laurie Laurence was the one person I could never imagine not having in my life. I needed him like I needed air in my lungs. He was my sunlight, my happiness, my joy and my energy and my smile. He was my everything.

“Maybe it’s true,” I whisper. “But it’s not important. I will never matter to him the way that he matters to me.”

Jo is quiet for a while, her eyes narrowed as she stares into the deep blue nothingness of the sky.

I lay beside her, in comfortable silence, as my thoughts drift, as always, back to that boy with the laughing green eyes, unruly but beautiful dark hair, and that smile that fills me with everything I need.

I first met Laurie through the others. I’m lifelong friends with all the Marches, and being an only child, my days tend to be lonely. Marmee has me over as much as humanly possible. Sleepovers, performances, club meetings and dinners, walks and piano lessons, days at the beach, sketching in the garden, dances and dumb adventures. I do it all with those four girls.

Then one day, a boy joined in on our fun.

At first, it was nerve-wracking, doing all our usual antics in the presence of a boy. But I soon learned that Laurie was anything but judgemental, and better than that–he was amazing fun.

We became best friends.

Now, everything I did was with Laurie, or nearly everything. I’d spend every second with him if I could.

It’s like there’s magic in his smile.

“Laurie!” I shove open his front door, yelling up the stairs.

His curly head pops over the stairs, grinning down at me. “Hey, you.”

I squint up at him. “What are you doing? I thought we were going out today. You promised we’d go ice skating.” I wave my skates at him to prove my point.

Laurie winces. “I’m sorry, y/n. I know I did, but–” He makes a face. “I’ve got a cold and Grandfather forbade me to leave my room.” His features turn mischievous. “In fact, I’m risking his wrath just being out here in the hall.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Well, I guess I’ll have to come up there and entertain you then.”

“You’ll get sick!” Laurie shakes his head at me.

“Too late,” I say, as I drop my skates and coat at the door, and dash up the stairs.

Laurie watches as I hop, skip, and jump at the top stair, as I do every time (because he did it first, and I like to do everything he does). He stares at me with a small smirk on his face.

“What?” I ask, coming to a stop only a metre away from him. “It’s fun doing that at the top of the stairs. Like a little celebratory moment for conquering the staircase once again.”

Laurie laughs under his breath as he shakes his head slightly. “It’s nothing, my dear y/n. Hop at your heart's content.”

I shrug and head into his room, a lage, ornate chamber full of antique paintings and old books and clothes strewn all over the floor.

“Oh, my,” I say disapprovingly. “Laurie, you really need to tidy this place up a little if you want to get any better, you know.”

“I know,” Laurie sighs, falling sideways onto an armchair. “But I just don’t have your work ethic, y/n. I love being lazy and useless and spending my time doing silly, worthless things.”

I click my tongue. “Don’t be ridiculous, Laurie. I know you. You have it inside you to do great things with your life. You just have to want it enough, and to work hard for it. You can do it. I believe in you.”

I wander around the room busily, picking up dirty laundry and discarded books, and straightening the bedsheets. I can feel Laurie’s eyes on me, but it’s not an awkward feeling. If anything, it’s comforting. Being around him, everything is easier, safer. My words come out of my mouth easily. I don’t worry about saying the wrong thing or coming across as too blunt or anything like that. They can come right from my heart, because I know him better than anyone, and I see what Laurie is capable of.

“And you know, you can always–”

“Y/n.” Laurie gets to his feet.

My voice dies, and I frown at him uncertainly and I drop a small stack of books onto his desk.. “Yeah?”

“You know how the other day, um, you and Jo were hanging out in the gardens, watching the clouds?”

My eyes narrow a little, but I nod slowly. “Yes…? How did you know about that?”

Laurie doesn’t meet my eyes, rolling his tongue around in his mouth nervously. “I might’ve been spying on you?”

My hands are instantly on my hips as I give him a look. “Laurie Laurence.”

“I’m sorry!” he says immediately, holding his hands up like he’s surrendering. “I just… well, I heard what you were talking about.”

I try to think back. What would Jo and I have been talking about that was so important he’s bringing it back up now? I didn’t think we were discussing anything that exciting, except…

Oh.

My face goes slack, and my mouth drops slightly open. “You-you mean–”

Laurie nods and gets to his feet. “So it’s true?”

I want to lie, to shake my head and laugh it away, but my reaction has already made it obvious. I slowly nod my head yes, once, then twice.

Relief floods into Laurie’s features. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“What?” I ask, but my question is lost when Laurie attacks me with a hug.

“I love you, y/n,” he says softly into my hair. “I’ve loved you ever since Jo first introduced me to you that day in the attic. You might’ve been shy and wearing that silly costume; a battered overcoat and tattered suitcase, but I’d never seen a prettier girl. You help me be a better person, you’re always so encouraging and kind and hard-workig, and I just… I really love you.”

He pulls away, holding my shoulders and gazing at me.

I’m in disbelief, staring up into his eyes, my mouth still open.

He laughs, ducking his head a little. “You don’t have to say anything, y/n. You said enough the other day.” He pauses, licks his lips a little. “Y/n, can I kiss you?”

I can’t help but to smile. “Of course you can.”

His mouth meets mine, and it’s better than anything else in the world.

#timothée chalamet #laurie laurence x reader #laurie laurence #little women #fanfic #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet x reader #laurie laurence fanfic

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