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eric-the-bmo · 1 year

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Neighborhood Watch S2 Ep1: Shindig

Hello!! We finished the first session of season 2! And jesus christ- a lot happens, it was a bit disjointed! But I’m here to try and make sure it’s all coherent! (my own personal comments will be in the tags) So let’s go!

A week has passed since the Season One finale; the Dome’s been dropped, and everyone in the Main Cast knows that John is a monster. Since the Dome is gone, the rest of the town had been unlocked for us to explore!

During the week, Song buys new flowers for her house at the florist- she runs into Louis, who’s been buying native wildflowers to improve his lawn. He runs into some interns who work for the mayor, who offer him some free seed packets for some newly discovered flower- They grow quick, with thick thorny vines and stems, and are ready to bloom within a week with beautiful tie-dye-esque colors. Louis declines, not trusting anyone who’s a part of the government, and the florist owner, Kathy, is wary of the flowers due to how quick they grow; they can very easily become invasive.

Song does archery practice with Amira in her backyard- Amira has not mentioned John being a monster, and Song hasn’t asked her about it. Amira does mention, however, that while hiding in Song’s house during the s1 finale she found a black book with a red gem. That’s one of Song’s spellbooks, and Song vaguely says she uses it to help protect herself. Amira shows interest in it, and Song discreetly tries to sense if Amira has the potential to become a magic-user- but Amira’s aura indicates she doesn’t have any ability for magic at all, which is odd because all humans normally have the capacity for it; the center of her soul is dead-blue.

Shelby starts her Twitch-streaming again, with the internet being back up, and when she’s not busy with that John spends time with her; Not only because she’s his friend, but as a way to make up for making her worry so much (and to avoid the rest of the Main Cast). Sometime during the week John tries to go the park, but sees Louis there and immediately turns around to go home. He also fills in Emmett about the events of taking down the Hunter, omitting the fact that he is one himself.

Markus keeps to themself for most of the week, ordering take-out (there’s only one Uber driver in Greenville, btw, his name is Kyle and he sells weed on the side) and healing from their wounds. At some point, they get rid of Emmett’s corpse with carrion beetles, and use his bones to make bonemeal for various projects- including their worm farm. Towards the end of the week, they decide it’s been long enough- They march right up to the Doe/Waters household and knock on the door. Shelby is busy streaming, and so John answers. He freezes when he sees it’s Markus, and in a cold panic he closes the door. Through the window he sees that Markus looks sad, and they walk away. John feels awful, and is still reeling from the cold panic, but he doesn’t want to make it awkward by opening the door again, and they’ll want to talk about that night, oh no, god you fucked up- And so he decides to head to the park, as part of him still finds nature to be calming/ feeling a bit like home. He people watches, observing the librarian reading a book, until it starts to get darker out, and begins his walk home.

Meanwhile, going back to Markus walking home, I feel it’s time to mention that some more neighbors have moved in during the week- Two of them being Heath and Sammy Clark. Heath, a 5′6 blonde guy, jogs up to a dejected Markus and invites to him and Sammy’s get-together (in fact, they’ve sent out invites to the entire cul-de-sac). Markus doesn’t seem too into it, and heads home.

On the topic of new neighbors, I’ll summarize them now:

The Clarks have moved in across from Phil. Heath is an outgoing trans man, and Sammy is a very quiet and hairy ginger man who’s almost 7ft tall.

Bonnie McMurry moves in next to Shelby and John. She’s a sweet older lady in her mid 60s and lives alone, though she had a bunch of odd-shaped boxes with her labeled “Lois”. Shelby had asked about it, revealing Bonnie had an adult son who passed some years ago. During the night, loud music can be heard from her basement.

William Krieger is a socially awkward and reclusive man with a pencil stache. He keeps his pet rats in his many coat pockets.

Kenneth Feinstetter lives across the street from Louis. He is a loud and boisterous man with glasses who will tell anyone willing to listen to him about his ridiculous conspiracy theories regarding Greenville.

Some moving trucks come in at midnight. Lucretius Wayne introduces himself to the neighbors, sending out gift baskets of high quality. He’s charming, and even the Pattersons like him.

Louis recognizes Lucretius as the vampire Lestat. His ex.

But the time for the Clark’s party is here, and Markus decides they’re going. They get all dressed and give themself a pep-talk about how they’re going to make friends. They head outside and see the Pattersons are heading over to the party as well, and for a moment consider heading home, but then Lucretius appears with some wine and greets the Pattersons; Karen waves at him, and Bob seems... jealous? Markus decides to go, if only to see this drama unfold.

Louis doesn’t like being left out and decides to go. As he’s walking over, William approaches him and wants to be invited to the party. Louis makes a comment about if William is really going with a jacket that has so many pockets, and William responds he’s got to bring his family with him. Louis doesn’t like William, who’s standing far too close to him, and so when Philip approaches Louis takes his chance to leave. Kenneth approaches Louis and asks if he’s seen anything weird, or out of the ordinary? Louis almost says no, but then mentions that he’s never seen Lucretius leave his house til after sundown- he might as well try and direct suspicion towards his ex.

Song decides to bring some wine over, and as she exits her home Lucretious greets her; They compare the wine they’re bringing, and he offers her his arm. She takes it, and together they walk to the Clark household. Louis sees this, and though his expression remains calm, his grip tightens. The Sampath family is going; Amira waves to Song, and she and Lu wave back.

Markus approaches the Pattersons and asks how Karen is doing (bc, yknow, The Curse), and she says she’s doing much better. Bob thanks Markus, who says that while they don’t like each other, they don’t want his wife to die, and Bob says he’ll owe Markus a favor because of their help. Markus squirms away.

John and Shelby are going as well; John prepares a snack tray to bring along. As the two of them leave they hear music coming from Bonnie’s basement; as much as John wouldn’t admit it, part of him is glad he’s away from the noise.

The Clarks are greeting people as they enter; John approaches, sees the rest of the Main Cast and seriously considers leaving, but Shelby interprets this as general social anxiety and reassures him it’ll be fine. He makes eye contact with Song as she approaches- her gaze hardens, and John looks away. Lucretius asks Song if everything is okay; she responds by saying not everyone in the neighborhood is getting along at the moment. Lucretius is invited inside by Heath.

Inside is very spacious; the archways leading to the different rooms have been altered to be taller, and even then Sammy has to bend over a little bit to avoid hitting his head. There’s snacks, drinks, etc. Sammy offers Philip some alcohol, and he turns it down. Markus is in awe of how tall Sammy is, and heads to a corner to vibe. They can hear the spiders behind the bookshelf in their corner. William shows up to stand next to them, and Markus bluntly tells him that they want him to go away (”Please go away. I can say it in four different languages if you’d like.”) William’s smile starts to fade at Markus’ insistence, and he actually starts to look angry, but then gets distracted by a snack tray and scurries away.

John and Shelby have bumped into Kenneth, who’s informing the both of them about some kind of drama going down on Twitter. John doesn’t have social media, so he doesn’t quite know what he’s talking about, but he likes listening to people talk and wants Kenneth to like him- especially since Kenneth doesn’t know about his monstrous nature. Shelby brings up the fact she’s a Twitch Streamer, upon which Kenneth looks her up on the Internet, and then awkwardly excuses himself.

Everyone starts to vote for which party game to play. John approaches Philip, who’s trying to tune his guitar to bring some extra entertainment to the party, but Phil is having a bit of trouble tuning it. Lucretius appears and offers to tune it, and plays a flamenco riff (and winking at Louis), absolutely showing up whatever Phil was planning to do (John doesn’t interpret it that way, though, and thinks it’s nice how Lucretius helped out Phil). Markus and John both notice Bob Patterson and Louis going off into one of the other rooms of the house- Bob has noticed Louis’s reactions to Lucretius, and asks if they know each other. Louis tries to play it off- not every person with a southern accent knows each other, Bob- but Mr Patterson wants to know if Lucretius is anything similar to the monster he saw the previous week, if something supernatural is going on. Louis says nothing supernatural is going on with any of the new neighbors, in response Bob whispers something to him before storming out. Louis, apparently a bit shaken by what Mr Patterson had whispered, takes a moment before leaving the room and heading back to the party.

The group has decided on Two Truths One Lie. Some highlights:

William glaring at Markus the entire time

Almost every normal neighbor hoping that Markus’s “I have over 300 bugs at my house” bit is the lie

Everyone immediately guessing Philip’s lie (divorced but on good terms)

Kenneth putting one of his truths down as him “knowing the truth about this town.” Song asks him what that means, and Kenneth invites Song over to his house to look at his charts and notes some day.

Lucretius smiling at Louis the entire time is was Louis’ turn (we find out Louis is allergic to wool)

Flirting with Song when it was her turn (He’s been flirting with her the whole party, I should add.)

And then it’s Lucretius’s turn. He grins, and gives his options: 1) He was born in Louisiana. 2) He has a skin condition that prevents him from being out in the sun 3) ...And he’s bloodthirsty monster.

Louis knew this, but Song doesn’t pick up on the danger; like almost everyone else, she’s incrediby charmed by Lucretius. John was too, actually, but as soon as that was said, John realizes that Lucretius’s charm is all part of a lure to get prey, and that he could be something similar to John. Markus realizes the danger as well, and deduces that everyone in this room could be in danger- so they summon a bunch of cockroaches to scare everyone away. Almost no one notices it was them who caused the roaches- except for William, who’s been staring at them the whole time.

People start running away in the chaos- Heath faints, Sammy tries to stomp the bugs (shaking the house with this, actually), and Louis tries to get ahold of Song, but Lucretius has taken her hand before he could do anything and has gotten her out of there. Lucretius offers to walk her home, and she accepts. Once outside, John tries to make eye contact with Markus- a “did we both notice the same thing” kind of look. Markus sees this and looks almost panicked, an “oh god not again look” (Unknown if it was fear about John or the event happening), before their gaze becomes sad. A monstrous roar appears from inside the house, and Markus races inside. John tries to head in too, but Louis calls out to him and says they need to talk. John anxiously says something about getting rid of the roaches and attempts to get away, worried Louis wants to talk about That Night, but the Crooked stops him (”John. This isn’t about you”).

Meanwhile, inside, Markus sees Sammy angrily stomping at the roaches. Markus, not wanting to have their bugs killed, leads them out with food. Sammy corners Markus and, speaking for the first time, growls a comment about how he didn’t see what Markus did was necessary, and that he knows about their kind and would appreciate that Markus never do that again. Markus stammers an apology and runs home.

Louis leads John to his house, where he asks what John knows about Lucretius. John tells him (how the charm is a lure, how he might be like him), and Louis says that John is strong enough to take him on in a fight, but not strong enough to survive; Song is in just as much danger in Lucretius’s presence as she is in John’s. At this comment John tense and seems angry, and Louis said it wasn’t meant to offend: He needs John’s help to kill Lucretius, after all. Stakes, garlic, crosses and etc might be useful. Also, Louis tells John, Bob knows about Lucretius, the house shook when Sammy tried to kill some roaches, William has rats in his pockets- there’s a Lot more to deal with than John being a monster, or even Louis’s ex being a vampire.

Meanwhile, Lucretius has walked Song back to her house. He says it was a pleasure to hang out with her this night, and Song agrees- but the night isn’t finished yet; Would he like to come inside for some coffee?

He accepts, and is invited inside.

#JOHN LEVELED UP BTW HE CAN SHAPESHIFT NOW <333 #neighborhood watch recap #fun fact the florist and mailman flirt with each other #I'm convinced Shelby is this game-world's equivalent to Jerma /hj #AND GODDAMN IT YALL JOHN FUCKED UP HIS FRIENDSHIP WITH MARKUS AAAA </3 #BC DUDE I WAS STILL YELLING ABOUT THIS AT WORK!! LIKE OH MY GOD JOHN YOU IDIOT </3 TALK TO THEMMMMMM #is john people wathcing for fun or to find prey? perhaps a bit of both #With Sammy we finally have a character who's taller than John #and on that note its been dtermined John is 6'10 #Kenneth is my fave new npc i love conspiracy theorist characters sm #props to louis for not selling out any of the main cast to kenneth #so proud of philip for trying to go sober tbh #i want more kenneth and john interactions i think it would be hilarious #if Kenneth did anything weird John will SO kill him #girl help my boy is so autisitc #he didnt realize lestat tuning the guitar could also be showing off he just thought lestat was being nice #HEY IS SAMMY IMPLYING THERES MORE PEOPLE LIKE MARKUS?? MORE BUG PEOPLE???#BECAUSE OF THE CONVO WITH LOUIS JOHN MIGHT START THINKING THE MIAN CAST WONT KILL HIM IF HES USEFUL </3 #and ouUGUH. THE FACT SONG ASKED LESTAT FOR COFFEE. THE SAME WAY SHE ASKED LOUIS. AND LOUIS DECLINED AND SO SHE ASKS LESTAT #TO SEE IF HES BETTER THAN LOUIS #AND HE ACCEPTS???#OOOH MY GOD GIRL!!!! YOURE IN TROUBLE HES A VAMPIRE OH Y GOD #our gm does a great job mkaing the town feel Alive its so cool #However.#if i were to have one complaint its that theres so much going on and so many plot hooks/plot points #that its a bit hard to keep track of what to follow up on/ do next #bc johns suspicion of karen has been dropped in favor pf investigating new stuff #and while id like to know about kens theories we also have bonnie and everything else to think about #not to mention the interpersonal relationships of the Main Cast #but its still enjoyable

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nikoadari · 1 year

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I Think I’m Dating a Fae, Chapter 6

March 19

Dear Diary,

Well, the kids weren’t good yesterday. Ramon had a tantrum about the food – he isn’t used to onigiri (Sol says that means “rice balls”) and wanted nuggets instead – and Yasmine was an absolute tornado all. Day. Long.

She just wouldn’t sit still. Eye contact? Nonexistent. She was all over the place, even when we tried to make donuts and cider for a nice dessert. She was excited for that, but she just wouldn’t focus.

I was already frazzled after the awful morning we’d had, and I was about to have a breakdown, but Sol took Yasmine outside and had her chop some more wood for a whole hour. She was able to focus on that, which gave me time to give Ramon a bath which helped calm him down, and then make myself some tea which calmed me down.

We spent the rest of the day outside. Sol has a nice garden in this L-shape around his house, and it always growing something. He apparently has a gardner who comes up here to tend the garden every day, but since we’re all here it’s our job now.

I thought it was hot and sweaty work, but it was kind of fun in a way. Sol showed us all how to weed everything without pulling out the roots of his flowers (that’s most of what he was growing) and how to water the plants without drowning them. The kids really enjoyed it, especially Yasmine. She loves bugs and playing in the dirt.

The only tears came from Ramon when he touched a worm. He screamed bloody murder which made Sol scream which made Yamine and I scream, and…wow. After he found out it was just a worm that scared Ramon, Sol stood up, walked to a big tree with an enormous hole in it, and just sat down in front of it.

Alone time, great.

I told Ramon it was okay and let the poor thing watch the worm for a while, and after seeing it wasn’t that scary he lost interest and wanted “Baba” to come back. God, he’s just so cute. I gave Sol about ten minutes before going to ask him to come back, and he was muttering again!

I’d figured that I had just dreamed it all up that first night we got here, about him muttering to himself in the dark like some sort of creep. It wasn’t dark now, but he was still talking to himself in the corner alone!

So I asked what was up and he turned and said, “Nothing!” like Ramon does when he’s in trouble! I didn’t press because he said he could come back and thanked me for taking care of the kids while he took some time for himself.

Sol is normally so considerate. I’m not used to him just walking away like that out of nowhere. Something must really be bothering him, but at the time I just let it go. The kids were bored and wanted to learn more about the pretty flowers and the bugs and everything; I figured we would have time to talk about it later.

It took a long time to do all the gardening since none of us knew what we were doing and Sol was too busy correcting us to actually do much of the work himself, and by the time we were finished it was getting dark.

The kids hadn’t behaved themselves, so instead of swimming or catching fish, we used all the wood Yasmine chopped before to make a fire in the backyard pit (is it really a backyard when you live in a forest, Sol? Is it? The answer is “no.” I can’t believe this man tried to tell me it counted because the back door was facing this way).

I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. I had to spray everyone down so we didn’t get eaten alive by mosquitos, and the fire was smoky but still warm.

We brought out the cider and donuts and heated them over the fire in these cute griddle and kettle duo. It was delicious. Mulled apple cider with cinnamon might be my new favorite drink.

Maybe I should make a recipe book. Sol’s always teaching the kids and I new recipes whenever he visits, but I always forget to write them down. Now’s probably a good time to start; I’ll get a little booklet from the market when we go. But back to last night.

The stars were beautiful. There are so many out here that we hardly even need lights to see. I never knew we could see all these without a telescope. You can’t see all these beautiful things from the city, and I’d spent my entire life there. I’m glad the kids were able to see this.

After we finished our little snack, Sol brought out this long bamboo flute and started playing songs. He’s gotten so much better at it over the last year! He must have bought a new, more professional-looking one while he progressed because I had never seen this particular flute before.

It had little pink and blue flowers painted down it, and was longer than the beginner flute. It made a much deeper tone than any flute I’d ever heard before. It was low and clear, but not sharp. Ramon and Yasmine were pretending their hands were snakes and dancing to it that way, the goofballs.

Sol was playing slow songs at first. No idea what the songs were called, but they made me imagine water. A slow, steady stream that never ended, flowing wherever it pleased. I kept my eyes on the stars for the most part. It was easier to get lost in the music while staring at them.

But then, on the fourth or fifth song, Sol suddenly picked up the pace. The kids were dancing around the fire in no time. I had to join in. The music was so bouncy it was like my feet just began moving on their own. The kids and I were whirling in circles, and the music carried us along, on and on and on until the children finally collapsed, laughing, in an exhausted pile.

I kept dancing.

Sol started to play something kind of slow, kind of fast…somewhere in the middle to keep me on my toes. I remembered dancing with all my siblings and cousins as a child at weddings and family reunions. I hadn’t danced like that in years.

But, you know what, I felt so good I could barely think of why I would want to stop myself from dancing like that again! I went old school. The kids started clapping to with the music – we have got to teach them how to keep a beat – and I danced as best I could to it.

I have to say, I’m rather impressed with myself. You should have seen my moves. I still got it!

After a few more songs we were all warm and full with donuts and cider, and sleepy from the day’s events. Sol and I put the kids to bed, and when he turned to me, I could see that he was very much in the mood. Well, can’t say I wasn’t, either.

It was an absolutely wonderful night. I’m hoping today will be just as good and bring us all closer together. I asked Sol to teach the kids how to swim this morning. “New day, new chances,” my dad always said.

When we got to the river, Sol asked how well I could swim. I’m pretty sure he thought I couldn’t swim at all since he’s never seen I been living in the city my whole life, but joke’s on him! I’m so good at it that one of my first jobs was to be a lifeguard at a public swimming pool! I’ve saved six kids, two adults who absolutely should have known better, and a dog from certain watery death.

Okay, maybe I’m a bit too proud of that, but I never realized just how much Sol could really do before this trip. I knew he’s a man of many talents, yes, but wow. He told me ages ago that he’s had more opportunities to learn; more time, more money, more education, plus a family that liked to read and learn, etc.

“A simple accident of birth,” he’d called it. “And a not so accidental consequence of capitalism with a dash of plutocracy.”

Which is true, but even though I know that it makes me feel a bit like I’m less than him. My mind will start spiraling, questioning why he’s even with me when I don’t deserve him and everything I know isn’t true but I still feel from time to time.

But this time was different.

He was impressed at my lifeguard stories and my skill. It was a different experience than usual, swimming in the river. The sun was out and it made the water shine like diamonds, but it didn’t hurt my eyes like the glare of the cement did. Sol picked a really calm stretch of the river for us to swim in so no one would get swept away by the current, so there was barely any sound at all, too.

And all of that was really nice, but my favorite part was that chlorine wasn’t stinging my nose. I always hated that stuff. Sol didn’t want to put a swimming cap on before he went in since “the water’s clean,” which, sure…not like animals do their business here, no ma’am.

His definition of “clean” and mine are clearly different.

I asked him to put my spare one on so that I wouldn’t have to listen to Ramon’s whining. He’s always hated swim caps, and if he saw his father not wearing one but still had to himself, World War 3 would have broken out in a heartbeat.

I caught Sol looking into the water like he was searching for something. He looked suspicious, almost angry. I asked if he was worried about more poisonous fish but he said it would be fine and that they don’t like calm water. I didn’t know that fish had preferences like that.

Once we actually got into the water, it was fun teaching the kids how to swim. We stayed in the shallow parts, of course, just splashing about and letting the kids tread water. They’re tiny naturals! By the time we go home, they’ll be swimming pros!

Sol was more relaxed, too, playing with the kids and timing how long we could all hold our breath underwater. I love seeing them all like this. Ugh, but of course Sol had to hit me with the cheesy romance out of nowhere.

We were having a splashing contest before he just kinda stopped and began staring at me. He looked sad. When I asked what was wrong, he sidled up next to me and pulled me close, and he just kept looking at me.

He said, “I wanted to show you my world. There’s so much more to it. I’m sorry that you can only see this tiny piece.”

I missed the carefree fun we were having a second ago so I just grinned and told him to take us on more vacations, then. I won’t mind. Everyone who made me feel like a gold-digger for taking a vacation can stuff it.

He grinned, then, but stayed quiet. It was like he was taking every single thing about me in, and when he had seen it all he turned my body towards his, and kissed me.

I thought I could hear someone laughing at us. It must have been the kids since it sounded close, but I was distracted; the kiss was just too wonderful. He was so tender and gentle, and passionate and needy, and he held me so close to him that I thought we might have to stay like that forever.

I had to push away when I needed air. I was holding him and staring up at his face. His eyes were all soft and brown and beautiful, just like the rest of him, but for a moment, I swear to God, I don’t think it’s just the sun’s reflection that turned his eyes gold.

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kayr0ss · 3 years

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Hands that Remember Chapter 2 [AO3]

[Horizon Zero Dawn, Elisabet Sobeck Lives, Found Family, Mother-Daughter Feelings, GAIA is recovering, Ereloy]

Summary: Aloy saw the recordings, felt their grief over the death of their culture - the loss of their identity. Ted Faro had blown away the light meant to guide humanity through darkness - but she was willing to risk it all to take it back. To bring APOLLO back. It wasn't the first time that the world asked her for a miracle, but it bargained with a miracle of its own: This time - she didn't have to do it alone.

[Wherein Elisabet Sobeck returns, GAIA is recovering, Erend is done waiting around, and Aloy discovers a family she's never had before to help lift the weight of the world off her shoulders.]

Chapter 2: Re-Calibration

CHAPTER 2

It was such an odd thing to feel dirt again.

When was the last time she felt sediment and rock between her fingertips? A thousand years ago—quite literally. She’d forgotten the feel of it squeezing underneath the overhang of her nails, the discomfort of a pebble pressing on her heel within her shoe.

Little things. Living things.

GAIA Prime and all the other bunkers she had to oversee were exactly that: bunkers. Giant boxes of metal sealed from the world and its mounds of dust, dirt, and rock. But this disconnection wasn’t new: it’s been around since before she was locked away and working on Zero Dawn. It was there even back in Miriam, in FAS—even as far back as Stanford. So much time spent rushing towards the next breakthrough that she never had the time to stop and smell the flowers before they all burned away.

It was hard to wrap her head around the idea that flowers were back—blooming again somewhere out there. But for now she’d settle for the desert sand, riddled with weeds and other small signs of life.

She wondered what Erend might be thinking, seeing her run her fingers along the ground like a toddler. Eager to feel—to learn, no, relearn about a world she was only getting her bearings on. She caught a small blade of grass between her fingers. It’s alive, it’s all… alive again, she stared in wonder at the small miracle of live in her hand. Her return to consciousness was a violent experience. This was a nice change of pace.

The rest of the vanguard gave her and Erend privacy to talk, running errands in the nearby encampment and leaving them in the shade of an open tent. God knows she needed the space. She had questions—so many questions and while Erend tried his best to get her up to speed it seemed like there was always more. His rushed explanation was a disaster. Machines, cultists—whatever the fuck else was out there—and Aloy.

He said he’d try again and break it down slowly this time, sticking to what he knew and leaving the rest ‘to Aloy.’

‘Aloy’ sounded like a big shot. Someone important. Erend spoke about her with both familiarity and fondness—like how the other Alphas sounded when talking about one another. Whatever tangent he flew into—about what they had to fight off and how he believed it was related to herself and the other ‘Old Ones’—it always came back to Aloy. There was an unwavering faith he had in her that she could recognize: the feeling that they’ve fought together, bled together.

Endured something terrible together.

She remembered how he looked a little hurt earlier. “You’re Aloy’s mother, aren’t you?” He said it almost reverently, but unfortunately the answer was a very strong “no.” It must have been a misunderstanding—why would he think that?

“Got some boar roasting in camp.” Erend’s voice carried above the sound of his heavy footsteps. He walked closer, seating himself on a rock across her. “You feelin’ better?”

“I think so,” she admitted. “Alive. Which is better than the alternative when it comes to emerging from cryosleep if you ask me.”

“Good, good.” He crossed his arms. “Not hungry?”

Elisabet shook her head. “I don’t think I can taste anything yet.” She really hoped this side-effect was temporary.

“Well, let’s get you some soup. That’ll help.”

How she was feeling was a can of worms she didn’t want to open quite yet. Her body was on edge, the hairs along her arms standing in attention while she could feel the pace of her heart jog above average. It almost made her wince, the self-awareness of expecting a panic attack at any moment, but if her system had decided to be useful before shutting off completely later on, she was going to make the goddamn most of it.

Deep breaths.

She needed to take deep, long breaths. This was nothing but a jacked-up sympathetic nervous system stress response—there was no real danger. Just hypothetical fear. She needed to relax. She needed to think.

Orientation would be a good start—what, when, and where. And then she needed a plan. Something. Anything to do other than wander aimlessly like a fucking relic out of time. “You okay?”

It almost made her snap. He was asking if she was okay? She looked up, a smart quip loaded at the tip of her tongue but then—he looked so earnest, so concerned. An expression like that didn’t belong on a soldier.

“Not really, no.” She admitted.

“Huh.” Erend sat hunched over with his chin on one hand, looking comically close to that old statue of a thinking man if not for the wider breadth of his knees. He cleared his throat. “So…”

Despite the situation, she chuckled. “I’m glad to see that the most awkward of conversation starters evolved itself back into common use.”

The reference likely flew over his head, but he smiled while rubbing at the back of his neck almost shyly. He seemed… kinder than a hundred pounds of armor and a warhammer would seem like.

“I mean what am I even supposed to say?” He shrugged. “I uh, hit things with my hammer. You—and this predicament—are not things I’m gonna hit with my hammer.”

“That’s reassuring,” Elisabet deadpanned.

“You sure you aren’t Aloy’s mother?” Erend cracked her a lopsided grin.

Elisabet rubbed at her temple. “I think I’d know if I was. Is it wishful thinking to hope you guys have any ibuprofen?”

She had been pointedly ignoring his assertions that she was anyone’s mother. There were more pressing concerns to address, foremost of which was the distinct lack of technology. She’s only been up and about for a few hours but it was enough to notice the rudimentary tools and structures, along with the fact that Erend seemed to be the only other person with access to technology similar to hers.

“I’d check if we do, if I had any idea of what that is.”

“Where are we?”

“The furthest west I’ve ever been, honestly.” Erend shrugged. “I’m not familiar with these lands. We generally call it The Forbidden West—but there isn’t much else we know. Just more… sand, and dust. I’ve heard stories of trees that grew on sand, at the border of an endless lake. Never been there to see it myself.” He paused thoughtfully. “I uh, made a short trek back east from where I found you. About an hour or a little more.”

Elisabet stayed quiet, willing herself not to ask the question prickling at the tip of her tongue.

“Was that your home?” Erend asked quietly. “Where I found you. With the tall, pointed trees and the old stone structure.”

“Pines,” she supplied. “The trees, I meant. I thought you would know this by now.”

He grunted. “I’m a captain. Pretty good darned captain too, but no tree expert.”

“No, no.” She shook her head. “Sorry, I meant you as in people, in general. The kinds of trees and animals, our history and technology—we tried to pass that on.”

Something wasn’t right—a feeling that’s been weighing on her since her awakening.

Erend and the vanguard were outfitted with plate armor and looked to have no means of transportation other than by foot. They had waterskins instead of thermal containers and their basic camping supplies were made of fibers and tanned leather. Nevermind real-time mapping and wireless communication. ‘Battle-ready’ wasn’t exactly what came to mind, and she’d have paid to hear Herres’ take on 31st century military technology. She might have even chuckled, had the implication not been so dire. Something had definitely gone wrong.

“Is the nearby encampment allied with you?”

“It was established by the Carja military as a way station, under the Sundom’s jurisdiction.” Erend beckoned her nearer, shuffling towards the side to leave space on the large, slated rock he was sitting on. “Ever since the Battle at the Spire, the Sun King’s been allowing expeditions towards the west—Aloy’s got a hunch that something is going on over there and you could guess that most of everyone listens to her these days. Whether she likes it or not.”

Carja. Sundom. Factions and nations, most likely?

“Just a minute.” He fumbled a little with his focus, looking up and awkwardly moving his hands in thin air. His frustration was noticeable in the deep set of his brows. “Aloy’s done this before—a map, on scrolls of light. She could share it with me while it, uh, did its floaty thing.”

“Do you have the map open?” Elisabet tapped her focus, hearing the small digital beam alert her of its activity. Technology was a familiar comfort—something to ground her. She whistled lowly while running a system check on the piece of hardware, trying not to wince at the fact that the date read January 14, 3041. The 31st fucking century. Safe to say it’s still working way past warranty declarations. “I think I got it.”

“How did you—its telling me that an external device accessed my display?”

“Hacking it,” she smiled. “This is more or less my area of expertise.”

“Right,” Erend nodded. “So we’re right over here.” He pointed towards a small glowing indicator.

“Outskirts of Carson City.” She had said it so softly it surprised her. She never pegged herself as particularly sentimental but being so close to home… after everything.

“And this,” he moved to the east. “Is the Sundom, and to its eastern border is the Nora’s Sacred Lands.”

Elisabet let herself have a moment of evaluation, eyes moving around the map to absorb as much information as she could. The satellite image let her know that the area’s topography reverted to pre-Faro Plague days: desert and canyons. Forested mountains covered the range to the east, but the northern range where she recalled Yellowstone was seemed erratically cold and glacial.

Information was a valuable resource she was lacking in.

“I need to get to the most developed settlement,” she muttered to herself. “Acclimate to customs and culture before finding a means to find and access ZD bunkers.”

“Bunkers?” Erend blinked.

“I assume that camps similar to this one are interspersed between the border of the Sundom and our location? At distances accessible by foot?”

“Yes, but—”

“I have to account for hostility along the road.” She crossed her arms. “And resources for supplies. What currency do you trade with?”

“Look,” Erend’s tone was firm. “We are going to take care of hostility and resources, because we’re going with you.”

“I—”

“You need to slow down,” Erend rose to his feet. “We don’t even know for sure if you’re okay after getting thawed out a thousand years later.”

“I need to figure out what happened to Zero Dawn. Find GAIA, and then—”

“Elisabet,” his voice was softer again, big and heavy hands settling on her shoulders. “We have time.”

Time? Of course they didn’t! There were a million things left to do and only two weeks until—

“The world isn’t ending anymore.”

He’d finally convinced her to sit down and get something to eat and it wasn’t damn easy. Elisabet was back to the makeshift planning table even before swallowing down her last bite and by the forge it was driving Erend just a little bit crazy.

“This is where we’re headed.”

Erend marked his own map, one that was tangible and inked on parchment instead of light. More reliable, if you asked him. Didn’t flicker in and out of sight—and didn’t make him look like a total jackass in front of his vanguard, waving his fingers around something they couldn’t see.

It was nearing sundown. The vanguard packed up ahead of time; they were leaving at the break of dawn. Erend split the party in two—one was to continue the expedition towards the Western Threshold, and the other, with Erend, was to hurry back to Meridian discreetly. It was a plan forged into metal: Erend needed to talk to Avad, while Elisabet seemed particularly interested in the Spire once he mentioned it.

“Utah and Colorado,” Elisabet whispered in wonder, tapping her focus on likely projecting a light-based rendering of them map on top of his own. “The staging areas for Zero Dawn.”

Erend looked at her with curiosity. “S’that what they used to be called? Before… before the whole thing—”

“Ended?” She punctuated, sensing his discomfort. But then she gave him a slight smile—it was different from Aloy’s. Wiser and wearier. “Though that’d be wrong. We’re still here, somehow.”

He smirked. “Don’t look so surprised. Didn’t you have somethin’ to do with that?”

“I’m just one of many,” she looked back towards the map. Didn’t look ready to talk about that, it seemed. “So what have we got?”

“We’re not in a hurry. We can take the traders’ path on the way back.” He pointed along a red, snaking line etched on the surface of the parchment. It was well-lit, well-guarded, and easy to traverse with enough camps in-between to restock and rest. He tapped twice on a marker at the end of route: it was a black, soaring tower. The good ‘ol Spire.

“That’d take us too long.” Elisabet shook her head. “We could go through these passes through the ridges. Cut straight through and save both time and resources.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“And time—”

“—is something you have now.” Erend stood his ground, arms crossed. “As I keep reiterating to you.”

“I’ve noticed.” Elisabet set her jaw. Then she sighed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to—” she waved a hand over the map “—this.”

“You mean not being the one in charge?” Erend grinned.

“I didn’t really ask for that,” she smiled back kindly. “But old habits die hard.”

“The long way to Meridian it is, then.”

Sobeck Journal, 1-14-41

We did it.

Even this barren desert looks beautiful. Can’t shake the feeling that I don’t deserve to see it all though.

Not without the rest of ZD. Without the rest of you.

I’m going to forego writing about how I feel because I don’t even know where to begin digging up that can of shit. Exhaustion was always an effective sleeping pill back in the day: now that I’ve got time to think when I lay down everything is so loud. Given the state of things I doubt they’d invented melatonin pills yet either, but who am I to complain? Alive is still better than dead.

Off to sleep now. Something’s wrong with APOLLO. More things to figure out tomorrow.

After all these years, I still don’t get to rest.

[“—someone— … —back to see—“]

“Great timing as usual.” Aloy hissed under her breath. The strider she was on was nearly worn down. She was an hour’s ride away from the forest’s edge—right where the sands of the Barrens began. That’s what she was going to call them anyway: “the Barrens.” Those prissy cartographers up in the mesa have no idea just how large the West was. It wasn’t all sand and tumbleweed: there were forests so different from the Jewel and the Sacred Lands that she didn’t know how to begin describing them! And the lake… the biggest she’s ever seen. A body of water so large it must have cloaked the world’s entirety. She’s seen it on the spherical maps stored in her focus—a depth of blue so imposing she couldn’t even wrap her head around it. The air was different along the lake’s edge—salty and crisp. Both beautiful and foreign and so very unforgiving.

She gently stroked the side of the strider’s neck. She didn’t want to wear him down completely—best to leave enough so that he could carry on and survive another day. Herds of broadheads often wandered around the Barrens anyway, although not found as often as in Meridian and to the East.

She’s been getting scrambled messages from Erend for the better part of a day now. He sounded panicked. He hated using his focus but there was apparently something important enough for him to try. It seemed desperately urgent and the only thing she could make of his messages was that she needed to go back.

Chasing after GAIA and whatever was left of APOLLO was going to have to wait.

Her strider whinnied—Aloy hummed a small apology she hoped it could understand. If she found a charger it’d be better—she could ride through evening on a mount strong enough to discourage smaller machines from engaging them. By next evening she could rest by the ranch.

Aloy bit her lip, a soft feeling of longing at her gut. That’s what Elisabet called it in her journals anyway—Sobeck Ranch. A small speck of life, trees, and flowers on the eastern edge of the Barrens. A small place to rest before another two days’ ride to Meridian.

She remembers how freeing it felt to tell Rost about her misadventures so far. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to take a few minutes for Elisabet and do the same.

She urged the strider to run a little faster, wind whipping at her hair and the tassels of her armor. “Just a bit more, big guy. Just a little more.”

A/N: Thank you once again to Tototops for beta-reading this chapter!

It's been a hot minute but here we go with chapter 2!

#Horizon Zero Dawn #HZD #Fanfic #Elisabet Sobeck #Aloy #Erend Vanguardsman #Erend #Ereloy #Found Family #HZD GAIA #Elisabet is Mom #Brb i'll cry #Aloy x Erend

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Ricky Thomas

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You first met Ricky after moving into his neighborhood. Your parents thought that it would be a good idea to send you to summer camp while they got your new house ready so they asked around and settled on Camp Arawak.

- They mainly decided to send you there because they found out that Ricky; who was your age, would be going there. Your parents had asked the boy to take you under his wing since you didn’t know the place and he begrudgingly; up until he met you of course, accepted.

- He was expecting you to be young with the way your parents had approached him but as he stood at your front door watching you lug your bags down your stairs, well, lets just say you certainly weren’t a kid. He could immediately feel his spirits lift.

- Your father thanked him for looking out for you and you gave him a shy somewhat embarrassed smile. After saying goodbye to your parents, you turned and followed him to the bus stop, your nerves at an all-time high.

- Ricky is very pleased with the situation. His summer has certainly started out well. He introduces himself and starts making conversation the instant you’re away from your parents, asking you questions about yourself and all that good stuff.

- When you’re finally at the camp, he acts as your own professional tour guide, telling you all that you need to know, showing you to your bunk and telling you where you can find him. You thank him and head off into your cabin while a million different scenarios involving the two of you race through his head.

- Due to the nature of your meeting, Ricky has the perfect excuse to force himself down your throat. Come on Y/n, I’ve got the perfect plan for this activity. Hey Y/n, I’ll walk you to the building; you know, so you don't get lost. Y/n, those girls are jerks, come on, lets hang out all alone together over here.

- I feel like Ricky wouldn’t even ask you out, he’d just sort of assume that the two of you were dating from how much you hung out and how accepting you were of his; what he thought was obvious, flirtation. I mean he certainly wasn’t subtle about his interest in you either but you probably just thought that he was being friendly and that that's how all guys; or at least guys from your new city, acted.

- That was why it took you by surprise when; all of a sudden, he just started speaking like the two of you had been a couple.

“Hey Y/n, I was just thinking that maybe you’d want to go steady?” He spoke as though it were a completely normal thing to say, busying himself with swinging a stick back and forth as he did so.

- You were completely taken aback …but then it all clicked. The compliments and teasing, the constant company, the different places he’d taken you when you were all alone. They’d been dates. He had asked you out, it had just been so nonchalant that you hadn’t realized it wasn’t just another hangout.

- You liked Ricky so it wasn’t difficult for you to agree to his proposition, but even if you hadn’t liked him like that at first …were you not sort of in too deep to back out?

- He gave you a smile when you agreed, taking your hand and telling you to “come on” as he led you into the trees beside the trail you were on. He stopped when the two of you were perfectly hidden, placing his hands on your shoulders and pulling you into a kiss. Two romantic surprises in one day, how lucky were you!

- So that's the story of how you got your first kiss and found out that you had a boyfriend all in the span of a few minutes. Definitely a good one to tell to your future kids.

- Pda all the time. Touching you is always a good thing in his eyes and everyone around you being able to see that you’re a couple is just an added bonus.

- Literally everyone has to know that you’re together. You’re his! Arent they jealous? Look at how wonderful his girlfriend is! Hey, he said look not stare! Keep those eyes to yourself bastard!

- He likes to keep his arm around your shoulders whenever you’re walking or sitting together.

- Kissing in the woods.

- Pecks on the lips. They always make him smile.

- He genuinely has a hard time keeping his eyes off of you. You’re just so pretty and you’re his, he knows he’s a heartthrob but boy he feels like he got lucky.

- His kisses are somewhat clumsy but nice. They’re pretty much always gentle and chaste but you always have more than one so you never mind that they’re short and sweet.

- Lightly tugging at his hair when you kiss. You sort of do it absentmindedly but it drives him crazy, if you know what I mean.

- Handholding. It just feels natural to him. He’ll often reach for your hand in the dark whether you’re sitting and watching something or he’s walking you home.

- He likes being the big spoon when you cuddle, nuzzling his face into your neck and hair as he pins you close to him. He also likes when you face each other, your face buried in his chest as his arms wrap themselves tightly around you. Regardless of the position, you always feel safe in his arms which is exactly what he wants.

- Stealing one of his shirts to sleep in. You can’t exactly cuddle when you’re at camp so his shirt will have to do.

- Nicknames? Are you kidding. He’s got pages full of them.

- He never minds any of your odd quirks. He just accepts you for who you are.

- He literally cannot see you out in public and just not talk to you. Hanging out with his friends? You guys go ahead, I’ll catch up with you in a minute.

- Anytime you visit, he tries to usher you out of his house as quickly as possible. His mothers eccentricity sort of embarrasses him.

- Becoming friends with Angela and Paul.

- Getting to hear about all the shenanigans he got himself into with Paul. He likes being able to impress you with his stories.

- He likes walking you back to your bunk after dinner or the little gatherings that the camp has. Is it mainly because he gets a goodnight kiss? Maybe.

- Getting little handpicked flowers and pretty weeds.

- Going swimming together. He cant even hide his pleased grin when he sees you in a bathing suit.

- You allowed him to touch your boob ... once. It literally made his entire year.

- Arcade dates.

- Sneaking out to see each other at night.

- Not a lot of things scare or creep him out. He’s got no problem squashing a big for you or proving that there’s nothing there when something goes bump in the night. None of your teasing threats ever scare him either.

- Listening to him brag when he wins a game.

- Trying to get him to watch his language and keep out of trouble. I suggest using the argument of: well if you’re being punished then we can’t hang out together.

- He teases you a lot but it’s always good natured.

- Tricks and pranks. He likes messing with people but in your case, he does so nicely. He’ll also occasionally ask you to help him prank someone else which is a nice change.

- Sarcasm and smartass comments.

- He’s definitely the type of guy to say that he doesn’t understand girls whenever you say something suspicious or the two of you have an argument.

- He’s annoyingly good at persuading and guilt tripping you into doing something when he really wants it. They’re never anything bad or malicious, don’t worry?

- He has a habit of showing up at just the right time. It seems like he always just happens to be there when you need him.

- He’s good at comforting you, even though what he says is fairly juvenile. It’s all in the way he says it and the way he touches you.

- He may act like a jerk sometimes but he really does care about you a lot.

- He questions you about the guys he’s jealous of, asking you who they are and how you know them; or what you’re doing if you seem to be flirting.

- Some of the older guys at camp; the ones that he regularly pisses off, have definitely flirted with you just to mess with him. He’s still bothered by the fact that they managed to make you legitimately flustered.

- He makes sure to take care of you. Haven’t eaten? He’ll grab you something. Look tired? Did you get enough sleep last night? Someone upsetting you? He’ll tear their heads off and shit down their throats.

- No one is ever gonna hurt or upset you in his presence and outside of his presence. He’s always running to your defense and acting like your knight in shining armor. He’s protective when it comes to the people he cares about, it’s just a part of who he is.

- He’s definitely gotten into some fistfights in your honor and to protect you. He’s pretty much a powder keg when it comes to defending you.

- He’s got a temper which means two things. 1) You’ll have to learn how to calm him down properly or 2) you’ll have your fair share of fights.

- Fights can definitely get heated and blown out of proportion because of his short temper. Occasionally, he’ll insult you and/or you’ll break up but he always comes back and admits that he didn’t mean what he said.

- No matter what you were fighting about, he’s always able to worm his way back into your heart, even though he’s pretty bad at apologies.

- He’s not one for all that mushy gushy romantic stuff so he rarely says that he loves you. Instead, he shows that he does through his actions.

- The future is certainly going to be a bit ...turbulent, but he hopes that you’ll stick by his side for a while.

#80s movie imagine #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon #80s movie imagines #sleepaway camp imagine #sleepaway camp headcanons #sleepaway camp headcanon #Ricky thomas imagine #Ricky thomas headcanons #Ricky thomas headcanon

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suesylvesterf · 3 years

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oh and 32 &62 for the ask thing y not

32: What is your favourite color?

Green, and it has been for a v long time but I'm slowly but surely recognising blue as a fav colour too. im indecisive so they're BOTH my fave colours. they r best friends

62: What makes you happy?

birds, watching birds, thinking about birds, seeing pictures of birds online, monkeys, thinking about monkeys, seeing pictures of monkeys, apes, thinking about apes, seeing pictures of apes, animals generally, watching animals, thinking about animals, seeing pictures of animals online, animal facts, paths with lots of puddles, ice cream with two or more scoops, or one scoop but its like in a swirl so its a soft serve, eating, drinking cool soft drinks in the countryside by the local breweries bc the cola is always better than coke??, i know i said birds but seagulls at the beach, and i know i said birds but the spur wing plover's very long legs... i love watching them run around, colourful leaves, long grass with lots of flower weeds (especially onion-weed), stationery omg i love stationery so much, new journals... with nice paper feel, gel pens...., wax seals and seal stamps!! i only have 3 seal stamps and i want more!!, looking at my bedsheets when its a sunny day because theyre always crumpled so it looks very cozy and warm, pulling typewriters apart and putting them back together again, any and all bodies of water but especially shallow and clear creeks, looking at eggs and thinking about different egg types (cuckoo eggs r so cool looking), when my handwriting looks nice and not messy (rare), wish houses, holding worms (only when im digging and im moving them somewhere safe i promise im not just terrorising them), whistling back and forth with the rosella until i whistle the wrong tune and then it wont reply to me anymore 😭, where i live, thinking about travelling, oooh boba.... especially matcha or jasmine and with red bean and pearls, OOOH yum cha...., when i write stuff for some of the stories in my head and they dont turn out like complete garbage (rare!), thinking about the fact that cows have best friends, reading carl safina's 'beyond words' again and again (its about elephants its very good), i had a dream with david attenborough in it last night btw that was cool, going to the museum alone, seeing lesbians deeply in love with each other, sewing something and when its done all the stitches look super clean and straight and profesh..., baking cake, when no one is in the house and its very quiet, sound of snow crunching in tes oblivion, honestly sound of ppl eating chips gbskjgbdfg, i love when ppl eat and theyre really enjoying it and theyre like mm! or make the orughpmf sound when theyre biting bc theyre excited to just dig into it, thinking about characters in my different w.i.ps that ill likely never finish, when my mum is really happy, talking 2 da tumblr bestie bwiththel, when i see old stuff of people whether its photos or things they made for me b4 i remember that we're not in each others lives anymore, sitting on a big rock, melbourne chinatown, letting myself think about the future in the most unrealistic way, watching leaves fall

#i love oversharing #this just got so long and i didnt even realise sorry #also lord of da rings <3 #and other media stuff #THANK U #gnomey #(i think)#asks

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lucyhblack · 4 years

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I had this mental image a long, long time ago (that of the Cornys being treated like sausages by a Papython dressed in an apron and chef's hat) and this exact passage written several and several months ago.

The story just didn't develop (I only had that stretch in mind and nothing else) until today. I just sat and wrote it. Without any planning! It just flowed from the mind to the keyboard.

(And there is proof that stories have a life of their own and want to be told)

So there it is. A small snippet of what I imagine to be one day at the Vex adoption store.

Thank you @vex-bittys for creating such a fun universe and allowing us to play with it!

Summary: It was a beautiful sunny day at Vex's Lamia Bittybones Adoption Center and Clinic

It was a beautiful sunny day at Vex's Lamia Bittybones Adoption Center and Clinic.

After several days locked up due to the rains, the dark clouds had finally dispersed and the lamias could go out and enjoy the sun. And enjoy they would.

The Kings had already gone out with some Papythons to check the back garden and see how the plants had fared and the possible care they would have to give to the flower beds.

The Pygmys left next. They spread out quickly, happy to have more space for their zooms. In a short time they entered a friendly competition to see who could go faster and dodge the largest number of remaining pools of water (needless to say that in their excitement many forgot that they should dodge and soon it was confusing even for them if the competition was for deflect or pass through as many puddles as possible).

Even Edgar had taken advantage and taken the current clutcher for some fresh air. He set up a small children's pool with Waffle's help and watched with affection the young Kraits gliding in the few inches of water inside.

The day was heating up fast, so he didn't care about the gentle breeze blowing, but even if the heat of the sun wasn't enough, the Kraits' counterpart, a group of FireRing puppies (all huddled safely in the older skeleton, and away from spatter caused by his brothers) they pleasantly warmed the air (a little uncomfortable for the feathered skeleton that carried them, but what was a little discomfort to see the happy faces and hear the chirps of the babes?) and protect the lamias more delicate.

His son Quetzl, a rare winged Papython hybrid, is happily strolling through the garden, avoiding the puddles and wandering Pygmys, happy to just be outdoors and be able to spread his wings after the last few days confined.

But not all lamias were enjoying their “new freedom” from the prison of bad weather outdoors. Some preferred to stay inside, enjoying the sun from a drier and more comfortable place.

This was the case with the Mambas who had gathered in front of one of the store's large front windows, dragging soft cushions and positioning themselves in them as a particularly expensive display of jewelry. They enjoyed the sun safely, away from possible puddles of cold water or mud (the mud could be beneficial to the skin they had read, but after a bad experience with worms trapped in rib cages, they all agreed that it was better to try the muds the type that came in cosmetic pots and not the natural one found in gardens).

They took turns in positions that were not always practical, but that always captured the sun's rays perfectly to make their well-polished scales shine.

In the other window a large barbecue grill had been set up and a full size Papython with an apron and a chef's hat turned over, with the help of a silicone spatula, several Cornys that slept on the grill. Below them, at the bottom of the grill, a group of miniature FireRings rested, enjoying the sun without worrying about the dangers of water splashing by Pygmys aimlessly and giving the illusion that the barbecue grill was really burning (that in a way, it really was).

The fact that they were being heated, both above by the sun, and below by the fire lamias (which perfectly regulated their temperature so as not to burn or overwhelm their friends above or themselves), made the blue noodles purr with satisfaction (more than one with a noise very similar to hot fat sizzling on the coals).

Above them, in a corner of the window, someone had attached a poster that could be read outside the store:

“Hot Corny free!”

"Adopt before they pop!"

Surrounded by drawings of smiling blue corncobs.

The ad should be working because one of the small noodles had already found an owner (who had received it nestled in a hot dog bun and a pun: "Sorry kid, but there is no more spice for extra accompaniments").

The skelepuppers, Honey and Poff had also left early, accompanying a small group of Corals who were going to explore the garden to see if there was anything interesting brought by the winds, or dug up by the rain, to be added to their treasures.

The Corals, of course, made it clear that THEY were accompanying the young to supervise them on their adventures (and if they secretly expected some praise and pats as rewards for their work, nobody really needed to know).

The puppies spent a few hours exploring the garden with the other bittys and after a while they rushed in to offer Vex a beautiful flower each, who would have been even happier with the presents had the pups not left a trail of muddy paws behind .

While Waffle took two squirming puppies for a bath, Vex cleaned up the dirt left by them. The Kraits were subsequently summoned and with their abilitys they set up a kind of cleaning station, almost a jetty for bittys, at the entrance for when the other residents decided to go back inside (Of course, those who used it most ended up being the Kraits themselves who could not resist an experience with water and bubbles. They said it was all a quality test, but they didn't even cheat the baby Butter).

Belle and her gang had also left and with mud war paintings and flower “helmets” they had ambushed one of the flowerbeds, leaping over a full-sized King who had inflated his hood of true fright at first, but soon entered a the kidding and let himself be “captured” by the smaller lamias.

Upon hearing the commotion some Chains had appeared worried and now watched amused the dramatic King lying on the floor regretting his luck while Belle, the leader of the Commanders, stood on her ribcage and proclaimed her defense to the kingdom of weeds against the cruel giants that plucked them. Some other Kings looked somewhat divided between laughter and concern (of being the next targets).

Lieutenant Cherry, Belle's right-hand man, watched everything from a strategic point on a fence that bordered a flower bed, gave the alert of enemy attack when a group of Pygmys came together and charged against Belle's troops in defense of the giant friend (who was beginning to realize that him would probably be lying on the floor for some time).

Soon there were mud and small, harmless bone attacks flying through the garden while the two “armies” clashed under the watchful eyes of the rest of the “gardeners” and the fans composed of the Chains, the babys (that Edgar had to control so they could just watch and not run to play. Although the attacks are harmless he didn’t want to risk any of them being run over by some more distracted adult) and the Corals who stopped looking for treasure and started watching with interest, offering some not so innocent advice and incentives (quickly silenced by a fierce look from Edgar who did not need impressionable young people to learn such language).

As the garden turned into a small war field, the Honeys Bo finally woke up and emerged from their warm nests to discover that the dark clouds were gone. They looked a little cross-eyed at the bright sky and the floating white clouds and with smiles of satisfaction packed their things and went to the front of the store, spreading out in the entrance with their mp3's. Soon they were dozing again, lulled by the lazy movement of the clouds and their soundtracks of choice.

Chains had spread throughout the store and beyond. Some had gone out and scanned the surroundings (to see if there were any bitty nearby who had had a problem with the rains and maybe slip in their soul bonds, who knows?), or around the house to check if there was any damage. These were later attracted to the Commanders' war cries and now watched the battle with amusement.

Some of those who went to look around the neighborhood came back a while later, alone or accompanied by some Chain that had not been able to reach the store before because of the rain, or some Bitty who was injured or had his nest/den damaged by bad weather and were temporarily homeless (and at least one dragging an adopter to sign the adoption papers while his soul shone with the new bond).

Those who stayed in the store spread out to help the other lamias or Vex herself by temporarily taking over the reception while it cleaned up the mess of messy, but good-hearted, puppies. They even guiding one or another adopter or visitor through the store (and more from one to the bathroom to clean up when they decided to take a look at the back garden and was hit by a stray mud missile).

A group joined the Honeys Bo at the front, hoping to feel their soul's call by a passerby and at least three thanked Vex and other lamias and left the store shelter to begin or resume their travels in search of their Soulbonds.

Vex, after cleaning the dirt and arranging a small vase for the two flowers given as a gift, went to check on Waflle with the puppies, leaving the reception with a Chain that was talking to a visitor and inviting him to take a look at the Mambas (almost like a salesman persuading a customer to take a look at a pair of diamond earrings from an exclusive line).

She went to look at the bathroom, but didn't find them there. Passing the kitchen she heard a commotion and decided to take a peek inside.

The skelepuppers were sitting at the end of a table, each equipped with a wooden spoon that they scraped in a large bowl between them. Baby Butter was further back with his own wooden spoon and his face and little hands all soiled with the contents of the bowl.

Waffle watched them fondly and with a little frustration. He had just bathed the two puppies (a task not so easy) and although the two managed to keep the dirt restricted to the face (nothing that a damp cloth would not solve) the same could not be said of his son who had smeared himself whole. Apparently today would be his day to bathe messy puppies.

Syrup was in its place at the top of Waffle's skull, and although, from time to time he turned and looked at his son with pure love, he was more focused on the rest of the kitchen leaving the watchman / baba service to his companion.

The Mamba watched the Papythons prepare the meals of the day, giving occasional orders and handing out tasks like a tiny Gordon Ramsay (but without the name-calling).

He had taken refuge in the kitchen with Butter early, the promise of treats being the best tactic to keep a child well-behaved and indoors (Butter was a very good puppy, but still a puppy and a much bigger one than Syrup, which sometimes made it a little difficult to control. Nothing that an incredible Mamba and an even better father couldn’t handle. But even Syrup had to admit that preventing a child, no matter how well behaved, and who had passed the last few days trapped between four walls, do not run outside and immediately throw yourself into puddles, it was a big challenge to be done without some dirty/sweet tactics).

But as soon as he entered the kitchen, and saw the larger lamias at work, he couldn't help but notice that the Papythons (even though they were very hardworking and competent in their jobs) urgently needed some help. And who would be better to help them than he, a wonderful and super competent Mamba? So he started to command them.

The Papythons were astonished with gratitude (in other words they had no idea how to deal with the little bossy snake and its smiling baby), staring at him paralyzed as he wandered around the kitchen inspecting and giving tips and orders (some half-senseless. They were not cooking no veal and it was certainly celery and not turnips) until the gigantic King appeared, with a grumpy puppy under each arm, and seeing the Papythons' desperate face (who absolutely did not want to be rude to someone who was obviously trying to help) came to the rescue.

Depositing the puppies on the table and helping his son to climb, he leaned over to pick up a bowl with leftover cake dough and whisper to one of the orange lamias that they just worked normally and when Mamba gave an order they just shouted “Yes Chef!". Straightening up, he took the bowl to the chicks and gave each one a spoon.

After that, things flowed like water. Syrup rose to the top of Waffle's skull and with a privileged view began to dictate more and more orders. The Papytons just shouted their agreement and continued to work normally (although some of the commands like: “Stir this soup more willingly!” and “Watch the egg point!” were really followed) little Mamba was swelling with pride when see everyone working so diligently under your command.

Waffle just delighted in the pleasure of his little love and the contentment of his son and puppies with his makeshift snack.

Vex watched in amusement for a few minutes. Syrup when he noticed Vex, shouted that the food would be ready in 5 minutes, while a Papython in the background made a movement with his hand indicating that it would take longer than the five minutes predicted by Mamba. She left them after that and went back to the reception, just in time to take a call about an old adopter wanting to pay a visit later and maybe get a new mate.

Before long, she would go to the back garden and give a "cease fire" when announcing lunch. The fighters would go through the car wash to get in and eat.

Edgar would collect the babys (letting the Kraits babies enter the car wash accompanied by adult Kraits. Not that they needed it, but it would be a good experience for the little ones to see what kinds of things they would be able to do, and more, as adults) and also would enter.

The Chains would enter, or the Papythons would take the lunches to them and the Honeys Bo and take the opportunity to have lunch under the sky, forming in a mixture of various warm and inviting shades of orangein front of the store.

The Mambas will take a break from their show and the Cornys... well they will continue to sleep, but they will still eat (somehow) their meals. Papython "cook" will remove the FireRings from the bottom of the grill and they will have lunch by the pool with the Kraits while these tell how their newest invention works.

Later on, there will be new visitors and potential adopters. The Corals will polish their new treasures and perhaps some will find their way, unconsciously, to the nest of some other lamia (and hopefully, the hands of some adopter).

When the afternoon progresses, and the weather gets a little cool, the Honeys Bo and the Chains will come in and seek the warmth of their nests or a companion for an afternoon nap. It may be that new Chains appear and others leave, being attracted by a mysterious and insistent pull on their souls.

The Pygmys will play with their hunting toys and may be able to convince some Mambas and even some Kings to join together (the Kings throwing the toys for the Pygmys to catch and the Mambas to attack).

The Commanders will gather in their nest, plotting new battle plans while Cherry takes inventory of their spoils of war (a toy mouse washed but still stained with mud, 2 snail shells, several helmets half shattered and already withering, a bag of seeds, some candy wrappers and several paper clips that they picked up on the way back to the nest).

The Cornys will return under the anti-poison refrigerator (or more precisely, they will be replaced by the helpful Papython who had taken them out that morning) where the Grillbitty (who had spent the day at the bottom of the kitchen oven, sleeping in perfect peace and quiet thanks to the comfortable and soothing noise from the oven flames. He loves his companions Corny, he really does, but even he needs a break from all the snoring, puns and fart pads every now and then and with everyone trapped in the same space for the past few days, he more that he needed some time alone and in silence) awaits you with his warm welcome.

Perhaps more at night, when the last visitor leaves and the store closes, Vex will go to the recreation room and put on a movie to watch. Honey and Poff will curl up on each side, while the Papythons distribute soft blankets and hot chocolate to the lamias who decide to join them.

Or maybe she reads a little while the wind is blowing outside. The Kings curled around her listening intently, their hoods vibrating softly to suppress the excitement with the story or the new word learned.

Edgar, with Quetzl wrapped around his neck, can bring the babies, who will sleep before the end of the story, but until then they will hear ecstatic and thirsty to absorb more about the world, real or imagined, contained in the pages.

Regardless of what she chooses, Waffle will sit with your baby in your arms and your love around and enjoy the peaceful night and the pure happiness of being with those she loves. He and Syrup will watch the baby Butter coo for colorful figures on TV or let out occasional “Mwah!” at strategic moments in history.

But this is later, for now Vex welcomes a new adopter, listening carefully to be able to help them find the best lamia companion possible.

It's just another day like so many others in the store. The sun is shining outside, birds are singing, flowers are blooming and bittys are up and having fun. On days like this, Vex is sure that many of his dear noodles will find a good home and a happy family, and even those who not (by choice or because it was not yet time), they will always have a safe place in the store and good friends to share.

A welcoming home and a loving family was what Vex's Lamia Bittybones Adoption Center and Clinic really was.

Comments, questions and criticisms are welcome and thank you for reading!

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everstarry · 4 years

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ethereal (5/?)

words: 4625

chapter five: mint leaves

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“You know, usually it’s the servants that tend to the garden,” Remi huffed. The young maid sat next to Althea, shielding her eyes from the low sun as she looked at her friend. The queen rolled her eyes as she reached under the plant to get to the weeds and the roots that threatened to invade the neighboring plant. The fresh scent of all the plants invaded her nose pleasantly. She could feel the soil under her nails and in all the crevices in her fingers. It was slightly damp and soft to the touch. She rubbed the soft dirt into the pads of her fingers, reveling in its comforting feel. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine she was back home.

“Kuiil said I could help,” Althea pointed out. “Besides, I don’t have anything to do.” Despite being the queen of a large kingdom, She had no real duties to perform yet. The new queen only listened to grievances with the Mandalorian every two days, but besides that, she had a free schedule. Her plans for the day included her meals and a bath. Being in the garden and helping out kept her mind busy. The younger woman didn’t really want to spend most of her days with the Queen Mother.

Remi jokingly sighed at her before reaching in and picking the leaves that were wilting on the mint plant. “We should pick some and incorporate it into your bath tonight,” the maid said absentmindedly. Althea nodded with a small laugh as she had been thinking the same thing.

“I think that would be lovely,” she smiled. It grew silent between the pair as they worked. Althea cleared her throat, “What happened with you and Cara at the wedding?” They both hadn’t spoken about that night. Althea thought back to where her husband and her danced in front of the bluebells and the skin of his hand. She wanted to mention it but didn’t know if she should.

Remi sent her a mischievous smile. “You mean after you and your husband disappeared?” Althea blushed and playfully swatted her friend’s arm. “So she moved over and let me sit next to her,” Remi picked up where Althea left to wander the gardens. “She introduced me to all her guard buddies.” Althea laughed a bit, leaning back to listen to her friend recount all the details.

“Were they nice?” The younger woman asked curiously. She began to brush the dirt from her hands. It proved to only smear the soil into her hands which meant that her fingers were probably stained from digging around. Althea didn’t mind it but was sure if someone came across the queen of Mandalore in such a disheveled state they would have a fit.

“Very,” Remi nodded, making a small pile of the mint leaves to take back with them later. “Cara made sure to include me in the conversations so I didn’t feel left out,” the maid added shyly.

“Did you dance?” Althea asked, taking her eyes from the mint plant and looking at her friend. Remi seemed to glow in the light as she nodded enthusiastically.

“You should have seen us. It was… I felt beautiful.” Remi smiled as she continued to pluck a few leaves.

“You are beautiful,” she playfully rolled her eyes. “Did you kiss?” Althea nudged Remi teasingly. When her friend didn’t respond Althea looked at her, Remi seemed to be avoiding her eyes. “You did, didn’t you?!” she exclaimed quietly as if the flowers had ears or opinions of their own.

“Yes,” Remi’s cheeks were red as she covered them. Althea squealed happily as she tried to picture her friend kissing the Mandalorian’s guard.

“I’m happy for you,” Althea smiled honestly as she looked back to the flowers. A sort of bittersweet feeling suddenly overcame her. She wouldn’t get to kiss her husband.

“I’m happy for you,” Remi repeated as she gathered the mint leaves. “Where did you go to during the ceremony? I saw you sneak away.”

Althea tried to clean the dirt from under her nails as she responded, “To the garden,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “The king was here and we danced.”

Remi laughed at that. “I can’t picture the Mandalorian dancing.”

“He did,” Althea smiled gently as the memories and his phantom touches seemed to drag her back to that moonlit dance. She missed her husband. The young queen cleared her throat so she wouldn’t dwell on the thoughts any longer. Althea hadn’t spent much time with her new husband beside a few quick moments when they passed by each other in the corridors.

“I think your adopted son is coming,” Remi nodded somewhere beyond Althea’s shoulder. The young woman turned to find the Child running toward her and Peli not far behind him. She giggled at the sight and turned to hold her arms open to the small being to show that he was welcome.

“Hello little one,” Althea grinned at the small child as he peered up at her. “What are you up to?”

“Good evening your majesty,” Peli bowed, slightly out of breath from trying to catch the Child. “I hope we’re not disturbing you,” she added quickly.

“I assure you this is a pleasant surprise,” the queen tickled the Child’s sides making him giggle as she gazed up at the older woman. “Do you normally come to the garden later?” she asked his caretaker.

“Yes,” Peli nodded slightly. “He likes to chase the frogs and look at the worms so I try to take him out before bed to hopefully wear him out.” She moved slightly to keep the infant in her line of sight as he moved around the two women, curious about what they were doing.

“I haven’t seen any today,” she looked to the older woman, “I would love if we could maybe get together during the day. I want to spend some time with…” she froze unsure what to call him.

“He doesn’t have a name,” Peli said softly. Althea felt her heart ache at the thought of a nameless existence. “It’s not like that,” Peli promised quickly. “Our king decided that he should be able to pick his own name once he’s older. So much has already been taken from him…” The younger woman could hear the sorrow sewn into the other woman’s voice as she uttered the few words. She hadn’t thought about it like that but supposed that was a beautiful thought.

Althea looked to where the Child was happily digging through the dirt and thought about Din finding the child among the ruins of battle. “I think he’ll really appreciate that,” she mused. “I can’t wait to see what name he picks,” the queen smiled as she thought about the future.

“I eagerly wait as well,” Peli laughed and then gasped as she watched the Child shovel a handful of leaves in his mouth. “Spit that out!” she scolded, quickly bending down and motioning for him to spit out the wad of mint that he thoughtfully chewed. From the bright twinkle in his eyes, she assumed he liked the fresh taste.

“It’s alright. It's safe,” Althea soothed Peli quickly, taking a few leaves and putting them in her own mouth. The older woman breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the queen eat the mint leaves.

“He must be at the stage where he puts everything in his mouth,” Remi teased as she watched the Child waddle toward where Althea had previously been digging.

“How did you know?” Peli joked as she sat down on the ground, taking in a big breath as she relaxed. She seemed worn out. The Child circled her and made his way back to the queen. Althea smiled widely as he waddled around her, babbling incoherently.

“I remember when my siblings were the same way,” Remi smiled gathering all the mint leaves in her hands and clearing her throat. “I’m going to go run you a bath and make sure your dinner is ready,” she said to Althea. The maid waved goodbye to the small group before setting off. Althea turned to the older woman and saw that she sat with her eyes closed.

“You seem more worn out then he does,” Althea pointed out. Peli let out a little hum as she seemed to agree with the statement. “I would love to help out, if not to just lessen your burden but to spend more time with him,” she smiled, playing with his hands as he gripped onto her fingers.

“You’re very kind,” Peli said softly, eyes now open and watching them interact. “I can see why our king likes you so much.” The Child crawled into her lap, gripping onto the fabric of her dress.

Althea blushed at her words. “Thank you for saying that.” Her mind was flooded with thoughts of her husband. “I’m surprised you can tell. It’s nearly impossible to read him.” A small laugh escaped her as she looked at the Child as he got comfortable.

Peli hummed thoughtfully. “I think it’s most obvious when he touches you or how he always looks to you when you enter the room,” she shrugged. The young woman tried not to think too deeply about the words but it only made her want to go over every interaction that she had with her husband.

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Althea nodded gratefully at the older woman. She looked down at the infant and gently rubbed his ears. He was falling asleep. “I think the young prince might need to be put down for the night,” she whispered, soothingly brushing the tip of her finger along his ears. Peli smiled as she stood, arms open and waiting for her to take the Child to his room. Althea stood up after, gently kissing his forehead goodnight.

“Would you like to meet in the garden tomorrow?” Peli asked hopefully and sighed in relief when the queen nodded enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to spend tomorrow with you.”

“I find I’m eagerly awaiting our time together as well,” Althea admitted with a small wave as she began to head back to her suite.

Remi had the bath ready and waiting for her when she returned. “Eat first,” her maid scolded playfully, ushering the queen away from the steaming water and toward the plate of food that was at the table.

Althea sat down and took a sip from the chalice of water that was poured for her. She eyed the small feast in front of her. “Did you eat already?” she asked her friend. “I don’t want to eat alone.” She wasn’t upset that she couldn’t have dinner with her husband the way she envisioned when she was younger but the thought of eating alone made her ache. The Mandalorian couldn’t help it and she didn’t want to bother him every night.

Remi took a seat next to her and began fixing her own plate as she talked about the gossip she had overheard while she did her daily chores. “They were nice enough to bring your dinner so I didn’t have to get it today,” she explained. “That’s why the wine is here,” the maid motioned to the bottle of the dark liquid. “You don’t have to drink it,” Remi assured her.

She nodded gratefully. “You can have it if you want,” Althea continued to eat, wanting more than anything to be in the soothing mint-infused water before it went completely cold.

“I’ll take it to my room and enjoy it later after I retire for the evening,” Remi grinned, nudging her gently. “Thank you,” her friend said sincerely but Althea only patted her friend’s hand. It was the least she could for Remi.

After she explained what the plans were for the next day and finished her plate, Remi finally let her strip to get into her bath. The water was just barely warm. Closer to cool than hot, and the queen found she missed the biting sting from the heat. “I should have taken it earlier,” the queen pouted.

“You’ve been in the sun all day,” Remi urged. “I thought that a cool bath would be better for you,” she cupped some water and brought it up to her hair. Althea relaxed into the gentleness of her friend and lost herself in the smell of mint. The soothing atmosphere was broken by a loud bang.

Her door swung open, harshly hitting the wall as the Mandalorian and Cara barged into her suite.

Althea let out a little yelp as she covered herself, trying to sink lower in the water. Remi jumped up from her spot near the head of the tub and placed herself with her arms stretched out wide in front of her friend in efforts to hide Althea. “You can’t be in here,” Remi said sternly, voice unwavering as she addressed her king. “You need to leave until the Queen is more presentable or perhaps this can wait until the morning.” Althea watched as Cara inspected her table. She had no idea what was happening.

“No time,” she heard the Mandalorian huff before he pushed Remi out of the way. Althea flushed when she saw him fully. He bent down so they were at eye level. She watched a shaking hand gently reach for her, gloves brushing her hair and cupping her face. Althea relaxed into his touch as much as she could.

“What’s going on?” Remi finally asked, voice filling the room as she tried to get the attention of both the king and head guard. Althea pressed herself into the tub’s wall, trying to preserve whatever dignity she had left.

“Mando,” Cara’s voice was tense as she held up the bottle of wine. He went rigid which only confused the queen even more.

“Din,” Althea whispered. “Please just tell me what’s wrong?” She wanted to ease his tension, to reassure him, to comfort him in any way that she could, but she needed to know what caused his distress.

The Mandalorian took a shaky breath, thumb gently tracing her cheek. “My love–” Althea shivered at the sudden term of endearment, and at the way he sounded. It was almost like he was pleading with her but she wasn’t sure what for. “Please,” he begged. “Please tell me you didn’t drink any of the wine.”

Althea shook her head as she stared into his visor, still trying to piece together what was happening. Din let out a breath of relief, his helmet gently knocking into her forehead as he tried to get closer to her. She let one of her hands that covered her chest fall, just to reach up from the cool water to cup the harsh angles of his helmet, what would be his face as she tried to calm his fears. His other free hand shot up to hold her hand against his Beskar, keeping her palm pressed to the helmet.

“What’s going on?” Remi repeated. She sounded further away but Althea couldn’t see her friend as the Mandalorian held her close. The young woman closed her eyes, savoring his touch despite the situation.

“Your wine was poisoned,” Cara finally spoke to break the tension in the air. “You didn’t drink any did you?” A slight edge of panic was found in the soldier’s voice as she directed the question to the maid.

“No,” Remi promised solemnly. The Mandalorian finally leaned away from her as he began to look her over as if her assurances weren’t enough for him like he needed to check for himself that she was really okay. She felt his eyes linger on her bare skin. She blushed under his gaze.

“How’d you know it was going to be poisoned?” she asked quietly, still embarrassed that she was in the bath.

The king’s guard cleared her throat. “A prisoner overheard a plan between two people and reported it to a guard. We just decided to believe him when he ended up dead.” Cara explained. “Who let you pick it up?”

“No one.” Althea could hear the frown in her friend’s voice. “Someone dropped it off today,” she breathed out slowly as if realizing why someone had decided to help her.

“Do you know them?” Remi shook her head. “Would you be able to pick them out from the staff?” When Remi nodded Cara grabbed her hand and together they went to find the person that tried to poison the Mandalorian Queen.

Althea made a small sound of protest as her friend left the room. It left her alone with the Mandalorian with nothing to cover herself. She cleared her throat, cheeks coloring pink again as she realized that her husband was still looking at her nude form. “Would you mind helping me out of the bath?” Her voice came out meeker than what she wanted, so she cleared her throat and repeated the question a bit louder. Din seemed to freeze at her words like he was sure if he had heard her correctly.

He was silent for a long moment until she used her only free hand to point to the robe that laid on the back of a chair. The Mandalorian moved quickly as if he was suddenly hyper-aware of the situation.

“I’m sorry,” he almost sounded as embarrassed as she felt. Althea giggled as he held open her robe, head turned away from her as she rose from the minty waters to give her a hint of privacy. Althea found that she missed his eyes on her. That she liked the way he looked at her as if she was something so exquisite, like he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her form. The young woman almost wanted him to look at her when she wasn’t covering herself, when she was completely exposed. She slipped her arms into the sleeves of the robe and quickly tied up the front. As soon as he was sure that she was covered he turned his head back so he was facing her, taking the sight of her in again.

“You were worried,” she voiced her thoughts, stepping closer to him so she could wrap her arms around his middle, holding him tightly against her. Althea rested her cheek against the metal of his breastplate, pressing closer as if that would allow her to hear or even feel his heartbeat. It didn’t.

His arms wound around her tightly, holding her to him as he lowered his head to just get that much closer. “I was… scared,” he admitted quietly. Althea closed her eyes at his words. The Mandalorian admitting he was scared felt like something monumental, something that was bigger than herself. “I was scared that I would come in here and you would already be dead…” he paused, “Or that I would have to tell you that you were going to be. That I would be powerless to help you, forced to watch you die in front of me.”

Althea kissed the metal beside her lips, squeezing him gently before looking up at him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered because she did feel sorry. The young woman couldn’t imagine what he was feeling.

“It’s not your fault,” he replied quickly, absolving her of any guilt she may have felt. “I would have been to blame if you had died.” Althea shook her head, something close to heartbreak welling in her chest.

“It wouldn’t have been your fault,” she breathed, pressing onto her tiptoes to lean her forehead against his helmet as he had done earlier. A sort of kiss of their own.

“My love, I would have blamed myself with every breath I took without you by my side.” Althea felt herself melt at his words. She didn’t know what to say and the quiet seemed to stretch for miles.

“Help me brush my hair,” she smiled gently at him. “You don’t have to go do you? I’ve missed you. I wanted to see you all day,” Althea explained quietly, she moved to pull away but Din held her close. She reveled in the feeling of his fingertips pressing into her to keep her in place. Even through the leather of his gloves she could feel the strength of his hands. The nearly bruising force that wouldn’t let her go, that pushed her closer despite their already close proximity.

“Just another minute,” came the quiet voice that she loved. “Forgive me,” he breathed. “I thought I was going to lose you, and somehow that thought alone was worse than any death I had ever faced.”

“You won’t ever lose me,” Althea swore to him.

He let go of her quickly and outstretched his pinky to her. “Promise me,” his voice wavered. “You are the only thing good in this world and I can’t… Althea, please just promise me. ”

She entangled their pinkies. “It’s a promise then.” The queen leaned down to kiss her thumbnail as she had done with their first pinky promise.

He let out a breath as he watched her. “You have no idea just how much you mean to me.” Before she could respond he was guiding her to the vanity, sitting her down and grabbing her brush from its place. With a gentleness that she didn’t know he possessed, he began to untangle the knots in her hair as he passed the brush through it. She watched as the Mandalorian brushed her hair, the sight was something so domestic yet so endearing.

“I…” he began, pausing suddenly like he lost his words along the way. Althea looked at him through the reflection of the mirror to encourage him to continue. “I missed you today too,” Din said softly, responding to her earlier comment.

Althea wasn’t sure what to say but her cheeks flushed pink in response. “I wanted to come and see you but didn’t want to bother you,” the queen admitted somewhat shyly. “I thought it was better to keep out of your way.”

“I imagined being in the garden with you all day,” he spoke quietly, placing her hairbrush back in its original place. “You could never bother me. I find that I miss your presence dearly, and long for even just a glimpse of you.”

“I feel the same way,” she promised. Althea noticed the somehow between everything that had happened the sun had slipped below the horizon, that the only light came from the many candles that decorated her room. She turned to look at him fully. “I’m not keeping you am I?”

The Mandalorian shook his head. “Change into your sleepwear,” he urged, brushing a piece of her hair behind her ears. Althea hesitated. She didn’t want him to leave just yet. She wanted to talk more, to spend more time with him. As if sensing her inner thoughts, the Mandalorian traced his thumb across her cheek. “I’m not leaving.” Those three words seem to calm the storm brewing inside her.

“Okay,” she smiled. Behind the safety of her divider, she changed into the nightgown that Remi had left out for her. She stepped out once she had finished. “Lay down with me?” Althea asked hopefully, suddenly shy again. The concept was foreign to her. She had never shared a bed before with a man, even if it was just for sleeping. Althea moved to her bed and the Mandalorian followed closely behind her. He stopped to watch her as she crawled onto her bed.

“You’re so beautiful.” It was so sudden that the young queen hadn’t expected it. He was so still as he gazed down at her.

Althea flushed, pushing the strap of her nightgown back up her arm. “Thank you.” The rasp of his voice warmed her insides, she wanted nothing more than to hear more of it. She waited for him to move onto the bed with her but instead he began to unfasten bits of his armor. Althea averted her eyes quickly as her hands balled up the fabrics that decorated her bed. “Din?” Her voice broke as her nerves threatened to consume her whole.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, “It’ll be more comfortable.” Althea didn’t think she could open her eyes, the soft sounds of the armor being shed echoed in her ears, felt like waves crashing into the cliffs of her home. She couldn’t imagine him without the armor, it was an integral part of him, nearly a skin. “Althea,” he breathed her name like it was the only thing he needed.

He was so close to her. She felt electric.

When she opened her eyes, she was met with his helmet. A part of her sighed in relief when she saw the familiar sight. Somewhere along the way the Beskar had become a comforting thought. The Mandalorian had shed most of the armor that protected his arms and chest. Instead, she was met with the dark cloth undershirt that he wore under it all, her eyes remaining glued to it. It was almost jarring seeing him without all the armor. “Is this okay?” she asked quietly before she could stop herself.

“Yes,” Din breathed. “I want to hold you against me and actually feel you… I can’t do that with all the armor.” His hand was shaking as it reached for her. Althea allowed herself to be pulled into his arms, laid her cheek against his warm chest. She actually let out a gasp when she felt his warmth, felt his heartbeat.

“Din,” Althea mumbled, lips brushing against the dark fabric of his shirt. He seemed to shudder under her, arms pulling around her, leather-clad fingers dancing over her bare shoulder. “Can we do this more often?” she asked her husband.

“I’d like that.” He traced patterns absentmindedly on her skin. He grew quiet as he lost himself in the gentle touches. Althea knew him to be quiet so she didn’t mind.

“Can I ask you something?” Din hummed in response. “Why did you move our wedding to the garden?” It was something that had been consuming her thoughts late at night when sleep eluded her.

“I almost didn’t, but I knew you would be happier there.” The rasp in his voice nearly made her shiver but his answer only confused her more. He cleared his throat before elaborating, “If the wedding was a bad memory… I didn’t want to ruin that place for you…” the Mandalorian trailed off, sounding unsure of himself.

“It’s not a bad memory for me,” she assured him. “Is it for you?” Her heart beat painfully against her ribcage as she waited for his answer. Althea worried that he would be able to feel the frantic pitter-patter against his chest.

“No,” he breathed. “There was more I wanted to do but the way you looked at me… That’s one of my best memories.” Althea felt herself smile as she relaxed more into him, gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly because she didn’t want to let go.

“What more did you want to do?” she asked curiously. The young queen thought she felt his heart skip a beat so she moved to look at him, but Din’s arms tightened around her. Effectively trapping her to his chest.

“To kiss you… At least just once.” Althea blushed at his words and the image they put into her head. “Now try to go to sleep,” he sounded breathless and embarrassed.

“How can you expect me to sleep after a declaration like that,” Althea huffed.

“Just try.” There was a chuckle in his voice as he continued to gently trace her back. Althea closed her eyes and somehow managed to fall asleep, lulled by Din’s soft caresses and faint breathing.

When she woke the next morning he was gone and she was alone again.

taglist: @munted-llama @bittersweetamor @kateb013

notes: this took so long for me to write and I’m so sorry for the wait!

#ethereal #ethereal everstarry #mint #baby yoda is in this #poisoned wine ???#soft mando #mando as king #the mandalorian #mandalorian x oc #mando fanfic #king and queen #din djarin x oc #din djarin #fantasy #not set in stars wars universe #medieval

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nancypullen · 4 years

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Little Visitors

I started the day in the gardens, poking around, pulling a few weeds, pinching spent blossoms, and tidying up. I was not alone. Forgive my awful snaps, I was sort of waving my phone around at my little visitors.

There were bunnies in the front and the back.

This cardinal didn’t seem to mind me whacking away at the dill, it certainly didn’t stop chirping and singing.

I didn’t have the heart to snip any of the bee balm heads, the bees were still digging for gold. I figure they know best and it’s not time yet.

This bright fellow was having lunch. I don’t mind sharing a stem or two. He’s just trying to live. Besides, he’ll turn into a gorgeous black swallowtail butterfly and I can say I knew him when he was just a chubby little guy. Is it just me or did he chew a little heart into that stem. He sent me a valentine!

I have to admit, this one spooked me a little. I’m not scared of eight-legged creatures, but he/she looks like the ghost of every spider I’ve ever killed.

I think that’s a crab spider, but I’m not sure so I just let it finish whatever it was doing and that geranium flower didn’t get snipped. Last, but not least...well, actually he was first. Hours before I ever went out to pull the first weed, this bandit showed up on our porch and snooped around (you won’t see him until about 30 seconds in).

youtube

What the heck? We don’t keep anything on the porch or deck that would be of any interest to a raccoon. Not one bit of kibble or garbage! They do enjoy the bird feeder in that crape myrtle tree out front, but why come up to the door? Maybe he was thirsty after eating bird seed and thought if he knocked we’d get him a glass of water. I should probably make a little sign that says BIRD BATH IN BACK. I didn’t get a picture of every lady bug and grasshopper that crossed my path, and the hummingbirds were much to fast for me. Still, they were all good company on a sunny summer day. We’re never alone and we share the world with some fascinating creatures. According to the laws of aviation that chubby bee shouldn’t get off the ground with those stubby wings. How miraculous is it that a fat worm will turn into a graceful butterfly? Nature doesn’t need us in order to thrive and we’d do well to remember that. All of this would go right on without us, in fact, it would flourish gloriously. We’re lucky to be spectators, even if it is just a little back yard safari. I hope you find a place to sit or stroll and appreciate what’s happening in the world that’s not about the buffoon in the White House, criminals, racists, pandemics, and all of the other awful players in the news. Take a break from everything and listen to birds, watch clouds, smell a bloom or two. Your heart and soul will thank you. Take care, stay safe, stay well. XOXO - Nancy

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aprilxbishop · 4 years

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Armed with a black trash bag and a litter-pick, her blonde hair tied up in a kerchief that was both fashionable (shiny, pale-green silk patterned with little blue flowers) and functional (only a few flyaways had escaped, sticking sweatily to her forehead like a chic hairstyle from the 1930s), April had spent the last hour since breakfast at Knocking Lake. Today, she was the lone representative of Radcliffe’s Green Initiative Club. A few others had made promises, put their names on the sign-up sheet, but many of them had also posted from the same frat party last night— which meant they were all probably still in bed, nursing their respective hangovers. So it was just April, dutiful April, spearing litter from the mud and shooing beer cans out from under foliage. It was amazing how much trash there was in the world once you really looked— gum wrappers and bottle caps, styrofoam cups and cigarettes. So many cigarettes! She’d thought that people were supposed to be smoking less nowadays. Or at least, switching over to E-cigs and mango-flavored vapes. But the evidence of Radcliffe’s unkicked habit was quite literally all around her: butts thrown in the grass, butts bobbing in the shallows.

Up and down the banks she went all morning, her Green Initiative shirt dampening under the arms, pulling junk out of the weeds and stopping only once for a break. In spite of the trash and the sun’s unseasonal heat, in spite of the pesky gnats that millioned near the water, her mood was good. Happy, even. She felt uplifted by the work; doing it reminded her that there were still people like her, and like the other, absent but already-forgiven members of the Green Initiative, who cared. Surely that meant the world would be okay. April bent down and pushed aside some reeds by the water’s edge. That was when she saw it, floating like a dying dentist-office fish— a used condom. Her horror was swift and immediate. She stumbled back. The reeds whipped from her grasp and the resulting splash sent the condom gliding out towards open water, carried by a length of ripples. “Oh no, come back!” She couldn’t let some poor bird find it, mistake it for a worm— the thought alone made her stomach do a queasy somersault. April leapt quickly onto a flat rock, jabbing at the water with her pick and missing wildly. “Shoot!” Pivoting on the toes of her sneakers, trying to spot the fugitive bit of latex, only then did she notice someone had stopped to watch her frantic spearfishing. Both exertion and embarrassment stained her cheeks a bright pink. “Sorry, I just, I can’t let it get away— do you see it anywhere?”

@radopens

#radstart #another monster starter from yours truly womp womp #please.... feel free to cut it down as much as you please y'all know the drill!#c

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glowwormsmith · 4 years

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I wanna know ALL the angst questions for Iris, my latest fascination, because I’m always a slut for Eden’s Gate ocs and her playlist is full of BOPS seriously you have excellent taste in music 👌💕

asdfds thank you!!💗 I’m glad you like the playlist for her, I worked hard on it. It’s half sad, soft girl who loves her flower girlfriend, half horror movie villain lol. I also really like talking about Iris, since she’s an unrepentant follower of Faith and Joseph and I can make a complex villain. Let’s get into the angst.

oc angst questions here for reference!

(cw for child abuse/domestic abuse/mental illness/sexual trauma mentions/self-harm/suicidal thoughts and idealization below the cut. Let me know if you need anything else tagged.)

💙 If Iris were dying near Faith or Joseph, her final words would be nothing but gratitude and love for saving her, accepting her into their family and giving her purpose. With Faith, she would tell her she was the only person she ever loved and promises she’ll wait for her in the afterlife, even if she doesn’t truly believe in such deep down. If she is dying in the presence of her enemies, she will curse their names and go down like a bitch: taunting and spitting poison at them, defiant to the end.

In my story, Iris survives the Collapse and the events of “New Dawn;” she’ll most likely die of natural causes down the road, which the Deputy and Iris’s other victims find unfair.

💧 The worst physical pain she was in was when her father brutalized and locked her up in the basement for three days when she was fourteen because she was hanging out with a girl after-school and they came across her giving the girl a kiss; she doesn’t remember much about her past that was rife with abuse, but this moment has stuck in her mind due to the fact that this was the first instance of severe abuse and when she became a prisoner within her own family.

The worst pain she was in mentally was when Faith died. She had mainly healed from her past thanks to being with Faith and the Project; even when the Project was under siege by the Resistance, it was fine because she had Faith. When she came across Faith’s body in the river, Iris had a complete mental shutdown, simply holding Faith’s body in her arms and sitting on the river bank, talking to her as if she were alive. Only Joseph was able to pull Iris away from Faith and Iris needed time alone/with Joseph to process her grief.

🔷 While Iris does not regret leaving her dysfunctional and abusive family, she notes that it was a great leap of faith that culminated in more abuse while on the road; the only reason she never tried to go back was because she could not bear to be locked up again under the grip of her cruel and sadistic father, uncaring and cold older sister, and an awful uncle, aunt and cousins who helped in the abuse.

She was abandoned by her birth mother when she was ten, who had been her only source of comfort. Her mother’s abandonment gave Iris both a feeling of low self-worth but also a desire to be as brave as that woman to leave her prison one day, even if it was into an unknown and uncaring world.

🔵 Her home life was never pleasant and it grew worse when her mother ran off when Iris was ten. She became a captive within her own family at fourteen and she developed severe depression, anxiety, severe anger problems, suicidal idealization, and even sadistic tendencies as a result. She was able to escape after killing her sister in a fit of rage, though it didn’t get better as Iris became homeless and was further exploited on the road.

It is all a blur to her and she prefers it that way, with only a few key memories standing out in her mind. She had to overcome a lot of sexual trauma to show physical affection for Joseph and Faith, and even then they are the only two she allows to touch her. She has an inherent distrust of law enforcement (her aunt was a detective that helped to keep any suspicious people away) and has developed a fear of men, dogs, sex-repulsed, sharp objects, confined spaces and loud voices. She also wonders, in her moments of self-reflection, if she would have been a better person without her dysfunctional family, or if she was always this cruel and vindictive.

❄️ She regrets having to turn to prostitution, thievery and even murder while she was homeless. While she knows it wasn’t her fault that her family treated her awfully, she feels shame and disgust over what she had to do on the road, to the point where she wonders if she should have just died instead of kept going. Faith and Joseph have to continuously remind her that no, she’s not “dirty” or “bad” for having to survive and that if she chose to die, then they would never have gotten the chance to know her. While it makes her feel better to hear this from the two people she loves, the negative intrusive thoughts refuse to go away, so she copes by projecting onto others, becoming a bully and tormentor herself.

💦 She tended to self-harm before Eden’s Gate and she still tends to do it at her lowest of lows or if no one’s around. She also has the urge to be a huge asshole to others, as a way to get her pent-up frustration and bitterness and negative emotions out. This unfortunate habit is supported by EG because, even though Joseph wants to save as many people as possible, he allows his followers to fight the Resistance and she takes the opportunity to be cruel to “sinners.”

She has become somewhat reliant on the Bliss, since being in the Bliss makes all the bad thoughts go away.

🌊 Iris is a pretty mean-spirited and petty person, but she can hide it well to put up a sympathetic and sincere front. When she’s hit her low, she drops the facade and goes hard; pray you aren’t on the receiving end of her anger or if you’re dealing with her during an episode.

If she becomes triggered or has a panic attack, she’ll dissociate and find a quiet place out in the woods to curl up and wait to settle her mind. She’ll look to Joseph or Faith for comfort and reassurance she is fine, that they won’t leave her or let anyone harm her.

☄️ She does, though it has gotten better due to healing from Joseph and Faith. She only opens up to these two, though she has enough emotional intelligence (probably due to healing from them) to understand that they are the only two she can even genuinely love at this point. She is complex: on first glance, you’d think she wasn’t affected by her past at all, but more time and learning about her history that her experience has shaped Iris into her current personality and behaviors, even if she suppresses much of her memory. By the time of “New Dawn,” she has completely forgotten her past and only knows Eden’s Gate; the only trace memory of her past life is that “monsters made me a monster.”

🔹 She has scars on her arms and thighs from both self-harm and the abuse from her family. Her family were more careful not to leave evidence of the abuse, so most of the scars from them are mental. She hates looking at the scars because she sees them as her weakness and impurity, so she covers them up when she can. Iris has gotten so good at burying her past that most of the Resistance or even regular EG members simply believe she is an asshole or monster, without realizing that her past has made her this way.

To quote Daenerys Targaryen, “If I look back, I am lost.” Iris refuses to dwell on the past, purely seeing them as monsters she had to face before she found her true family, her true father who loves and protects her, and her true love of her life. By refusing to give thought to her birth family and life on the road, she both allows herself to bury the abuse and let the trauma and hurt manifest itself in her personality, relationships with others, and behavior. It’s both good and bad, and just like the Seed family, she really needs proper counseling but will never truly get it so she copes in different, sometimes even unhealthy, ways.

📘 Theme: Meet-Cute (have an angsty drabble with a happy/hopeful ending lol)

I want to die. I don’t want to, but I do. It hurts too much to keep going, but I’m too scared to end it.

It was funny how Iris realized the folly of her desire to both live and not live, how beautiful it would be to lie down in the field of white bell-shaped flowers, close her eyes and stop breathing, rotting back into the soil and letting her bones become home to the flowers and weeds and worms.

Before she was taken out of school, her English class had read Hamlet and she had been idealizing Ophelia since, a beautiful death, and she had looked at any river she passed with a longing to enter it and not come out. But then she remembered her mother, the ghost of a woman whose only true strength came in her running away into the unknown, and any attempt to end her life was half-hearted and abandoned, with the next thought turning to how she would get her next meal, with only three dollars in her pocket.

It doesn’t matter now. Food, shelter, dying by my own hand. They’re found me. Iris had seen them when she wandered into that small town, putting up pictures of her at sixteen near a dive bar and speaking to the town’s preacher. She had frozen only briefly before he slunk back into the shadows of the forest line and kept wandering. They had been searching for her the whole time since she killed the Bitch and left the Cage; the Monsters that had the nerve to call her blood. She allowed a small, bitter chuckle that it took two years to cross her path; she always knew she was the smart one among them...And then a hysteric sob burst out as she fell to her knees, her tongue tasting iron as her lip broke. She would die easy by their hands; they probably wouldn’t even kill her as they dragged her back “home.” The memories were coming back, no matter how she tried to push them down into the darkness: the Beast’s hands and voice and evil laughter, being dragged into the Dark Room again, feeling the pangs of hunger....Iris stopped her sobs, only letting the tears form but never cry.

No. She would not let herself be drawn back there. Not after escaping, not after putting herself through cruelty on the world just for the sake of freedom. Only she had the right to her body and mind and thoughts; no one, especially those Monsters, were going to take it away. Only she would be the decider of her fate.

Just as Iris was about to reach into her pocket to pull out the switchblade and steel herself to fight against her survival instinct, she heard singing. It was soft at first as Iris looked up and around the field of bell flowers.

“H-Hello?” she called out, voice hoarse. Perhaps I’m already dead. She then stood up and walked towards it, both curious and more of her survival instinct keeping her alive as long as possible.

The singing became clearer as Iris spotted a figure twirling in the field. It was a pretty sound, but there was no lyrics, just melodious humming and chiming.

The singing belonged to a beautiful young woman and Iris felt any unease at meeting a strange ease; she only had fear and mistrust of men, and this girl...was an angel. She was clad in a pure white dress, her dirty blonde hair hanging loosely to her shoulders and she was holding a flower as she danced without a care in the field. Even her bare feet looked untouched and mildly muddied, which only endeared Iris to this wood nymph.

She then took note of Iris, who was conscious of how dirty and plain she looked compared to the lovely girl’s pristine appearance, with matted red hair, grimy face, stench and tattered clothes she pulled from Goodwill and hardly replaced. Rather than look surprise or disgusted, the angelic girl smiled kindly.

“Hello, friend. Do you need help?”

“I...” Iris was unaccustomed to speaking to anyone in such a pleasant manner since her time on the road, let alone anyone asking her for help so kindly and without any secondary motivation. She blinked in confusion then looked behind her, afraid her family would suddenly appear with their horrid faces and harsh words to drag her away. She must have looked panicked when the girl’s brow furrowed in concern, though the sweet smile was still on her face.

Iris saw the girl open her hands towards her and she feared she would be touched so she drew back, but the girl kept her hands open, waiting for Iris to take them herself. Iris felt her hands fold together and began picking her skin with her nails, her eyes drawn towards the soft, clean hands. She had no right to touch them with her own dirty ones.

“I can take you to my home. We have warm food, showers and a place to rest. You seem to have been traveling for awhile. There’s no need to be afraid of me. My name is Faith; what’s your name?”

“...I-Iris. Umm...” God, she’s so pretty and kind. Like a real angel. Can someone like me be so lucky to be in her presence?

“That’s a beautiful name. Iris, would you like to come home with me?” Faith asked. “You’ll be safe there.”

Iris felt her mouth twist into a scowl. “Nowhere’s ever safe.” She cringed and thought that Faith would turn away from her now that she showed her ugliness, but Faith nodded and gave a quiet hum in agreement.

“I know all too well how unsafe this world and people can be. But there’s no where quite as safe as Eden’s Gate,” Faith said. “I know I’m a stranger to you, but all friends start as strangers, and if you come with me, you’ll finally feel the safest you’ll ever be.”

Iris looked to Faith and noticed her brown eyes, like a doe’s. All the barriers she put up with people melted away as she looked at the open, beautiful face, the soft lips curved in a smile. Iris gulped. Who knows how long the Monsters will be in this area for. “Alright. I’ll...I’ll take a leap of faith.”

Faith let out a chuckle at that, which sounded wonderful to Iris’s ears, and the girl took Faith’s hands into her own, was lead out of the field and into a new life.

#iris #fc5 oc #oc ask meme #abuse tw #self-harm tw #suicide mention tw #hope you like it #this really got long and heavy #casino-lights

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random-imagines-blog · 5 years

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Under The Rose {Eomer x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by:@rachelcarroll1819 Wordcount: 2701 Summary: You plan a party with your husband Eomer. Your guests include your best friends, Arwen and Samwise, their spouses, and your brother Legolas.

There were many flowers blooming, despite the rough start to Spring. However, it was the roses outside of your Rohan keep that you were looking most forward to. The roses were what set yours apart from all of the other gardens in the area - everyone knew that the ones that bloomed under your touch and care were always more beautiful, sweet smelling and even longer lasting than any other rose in the Kingdom. There were people who came from outside of Rohan to come and see them when they finally bloomed, including your two best friends, as unlikely as they were. If word got to Samwise Gamgee of The Shire, or Arwen of Rivendell, they could be expected to travel to Rohan with their families - King of Gondor included - to celebrate these roses. And you couldn’t forget about your brother, Legolas, who always came to visit you, roses or no.

Eomer walked out of the keep to see that you were looking over your garden, and wrist-deep in the fertile soil. You were never afraid to get your hands dirty, and that’s one thing that your husband loved about you. “The dawn’s barely broken, do you ever let yourself rest?” He asked, sauntering towards you, blonde hair hanging down around his shoulders. “Didn’t you stay up weeding, too?”

“Eomer, it’s almost time,” You said, smiling at him over your shoulder. He knew exactly what that meant. Did you stay up weeding because it’s almost time to hold the annual garden party at your home, yes, of course you did. You knew that the garden wasn’t exactly something that he was interested in, but it was important to you so it was important to him. “Sam might bring something up from his own garden for us, so I need to make some space. His marigolds are always gorgeous, I hope it’s those.” You realized that you were ranting, and Eomer was just looking at you blankly. You chuckled, getting to your feet and wiped your hands on the long skirt you were wearing.

“The riders are on patrol today, and I don’t have any appointments until the afternoon...” He said, suggestively. By the time that you approached him, he had a grin on his face, not just his usual smirk.

“You mean that I get the King to myself for the rest of the morning?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow. Climbing into his arms, he held you securely in his chest and carried you up the stairs, back into the warm castle that you called home. You pressed small kisses into the crook of his neck, and though of course he was on your mind as he so often was, you couldn’t help but think about the invitations you were going to send out to your friends.

He carried you into the bedroom, humming an affirmative to your question and laid you down on the bed. You laid back against the pillows, hair spread out around you. “You know that means I want the Queen to myself all morning,” He said, returning the kisses that you had given before. You closed your eyes and moaned as the sensations spread from the hair on your head to the tips of your curled toes. You quickly got over the distraction of planning the party, and focused on him and him alone.

Eomer retreated to the gardens outside once the last of his meetings were over. As he was still dressed in his Kingly attire, and had been sitting down on the throne for the last couple of hours, he was feeling stiff, and was looking forward to a stroll around to loosen up his legs. Something was different though - there was a male voice in the garden with yours, making you laugh. He turned the corner to where the benches were, under the shade of the large, sweet smelling trees.

“Samwise Gamgee,” Eomer said, seeing the mop of curly hair. You beamed up at your husband and motioned him to come and join the two of you where you were sitting. Sam stood up and behind him was revealed a just as pleasant looking woman and four young bairns. “Oh - and ... family.”

“There’s another on the way!” You said, cheerfully, laying your hand on Rosie’s round stomach. You always were a sucker for babies, especially when they were young, so having these children here and knowing that Rosie could burst at just about any second was exciting. With Eomer, children made him soften only slightly - he had a tough childhood himself and no one had ever taken it easy on him, so it was hard for him to remind himself to take it easy on them.

“Something for you here,” Sam said, fishing around in a sack that he had brought. He pulled out some fresh ears of corn from the Shire, shining as golden as the sun above. You stood up and took one out of his hand. “Usually I’d bring more but we’ve been having trouble with the carrots lately,” He said, sheepishly.

“It’s good enough for us,” Eomer said, taking the sack from Sam. “It’s going to make a good meal, once everyone else gets here.”

“I brought Lembas Bread,” Legolas said, coming around the corner that Eomer had just arrived from. He had been eavesdropping clearly, and came straight for you. Over everyone else, you were the one that your brother cared about the most, and he showed it in the way that his arms lifted you into the air as he hugged you. You laughed joyfully and wrapped your own arms around your pretty, blonde brother, having missed him over the past year. Although that year for you and Legolas had been short, it had been long to all the others, and that way of thinking had begun to rub off on both of you. “Y/N, you’re looking well,” He said, once he put you back down.

“As are you, Legolas,” You said, taking in the never-changing appearance of your big brother. “What a surprise, Lembas Bread,” You teased. Legolas always brought Lembas bread to these gatherings, mainly for Sam to take home for Merry and Pippin.

Legolas and Eomer embraced, but only for half a moment before separating. They had fought together in the Great Battles sure, but there was a discomfort in knowing that they both cared about you above all else. It almost made them competitive with one another - at least on Legolas’s end. You usually had to force Legolas to stand down, and remind him that Eomer was only human, after all.

Aragorn and Arwen were the last to arrive. You stayed standing to greet them, though you did bow down just to tease the King, who always insisted that you didn’t have to bow. He stood with the rest of the men while you and Arwen embraced and kissed each other on the cheek.

Arwen was counted among your two best friends, with Sam being the other. You agreed with your husband that it was an odd mixture of friends, but the core aspects of your personalities were the same. All three of you would die to protect your friends and the ones that you love, that was the main thing. You’d missed them terribly, and it felt amazing to have your favorite people back together again.

The next evening was filled with color as the roses finally bloomed at last. You had arranged the large table to be beneath the climbing roses that took over the majority of one of the back walls of the castle. There was an array of red, white and pink, mixing in with the golden buds of the marigolds Sam had brought and that the two of you planted together that morning. This may be the best turn out your garden has ever seen.

Arwen walked noiselessly on the cobbled garden path, holding a large silver pitcher of water for the table. “Is Rosie going to be able to walk this far?” She asked, setting it on the table.

“Sam will take care of her, carry her down if he has to,” You giggled, picturing Sam crawling on all fours with his pregnant wife sitting on his back. Arwen laughed as well, it sounding like musical bells against the quiet of nature. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she gives birth here in Rohan.”

“Can you imagine, a little newborn hobbit baby,” Arwen sat down at the table, her cheeks glowing with happy thoughts. The others weren’t due down here for another half an hour, but she knew you would be down here making sure that everything was perfect. Most of the food was still in the kitchens, being kept warm, but you already had the large plates of fruits, cheeses and finger vegetables set out for appetizers. She picked a ripe cherry tomato off of one of the plates and ate it without the littlest bit of juice dribbling from her lips. Nothing less from an elf, of course. Or from the Queen of Gondor.

“It’s nice to hear children running around in these halls - it has been much too long,” You sighed dreamily, remembering some of the laughter you heard. You had started the morning playing with the little ones so that Sam and Rosie could get some rest in. Elanor had wormed her way into your heart, and started acting like a little princess straight away.

“As you are my best friend, I’m going to let you in on something...” Arwen said, leaning in to make sure no one else would hear. “Do you remember that vision I had of Aragorn, and our son?” You nodded and leaned forward, craving the good news. “We’ve been trying - but you cannot tell anyone.”

“You’re worried that I would tell your father?” You asked, and she nodded slowly. “He would be happy for you if it happened, we all would. Or should I say will, since it was a vision and is sure to come true.”

Being an elf with a human as a husband, much like yourself, made it very difficult to have children. You’d been thinking about it since you first laid eyes on the rider on the way to Rohan. It seemed fitting that your best friend was having the same contemplations with her own husband. Despite the hardships that would come with trying, you supported her endlessly, and proved that to her with a hug - something that elves did so rarely.

You held Sam’s hands when he came out of the castle, ready for dinner, with his wife following along behind him. Tonight was what you were most looking forward to - a great meal, great friends, and the blooming roses overhead. It was a great thing that Eowyn and Faramir were in the city, and agreed to watch all of Sam’s little ones. Having them around was great fun, but also greatly chaotic - you wondered how they could handle it at all.

“Sometimes it’s nice being away from home,” Sam said, “if you’re around the right people.” You smiled at that and let go of his hands to lean in and peck Rosie on either cheek. You loved their round cheeks and their sweet smiles - there was something so happy about the couple that was entirely infectious.

“You know you’re always welcome here, and I hope to visit the Shire one day.” Sam and Rosie looked at each other and both started to laugh, making you furrow your brow in confusion. Without asking, Eomer walked behind you and put his arm around your waist.

“Normally, even humans in the Shire would look odd, but an elf?” Eomer explained on the Hobbits’ behalf. It did make sense and you giggled behind your hand. “Y/N, sometimes you forget that other places aren’t like home, don’t you?”

“Can you blame me?” Getting into your seat at the intimate table that seated seven comfortably, you flushed and put your hand on your husband’s thigh. There was no one looking at the two of you anymore, but rather they were all fixing their plates. “You brought me to a perfect home.”

Working on dinner, the seven of you didn’t have much time for chit chat. You had provided them with a feast with all of the foods that they loved. You were particularly fond of the roast pork and vegetables that you had the kitchens whip up, salted of course with salt from The Shire that Sam had sent by rider a few months before. You also made sure that there was plenty of wine - enough to make everyone’s nose and cheeks go rosy, even Legolas’s and he had a very high tolerance for alcohol. Save for pregnant Rosie’s, of course. All around you, the smell of roses hung in the air, the fragrance enriching the senses to where it even seemed to flavor the food.

In true Kingly fashion, Aragorn and Eomer were attempting to out-eat one another. As always, you and Arwen made fun of them, sneaking more food onto their plates when they were too busy looking at each other competitively. Your husbands would be feeling that later, that’s for sure. There was even some surprise as Sam and Rosie were both keeping up, but were taking their time of it. You, Arwen and Legolas, as the elves, were more picky with how you ate, making your plates look clean and pristine once you have eaten the last morsel but you hadn’t had your plate heaping either.

You called for the maids to come clear the table once all of the food had been eaten, and suggested a walk in the gardens to help the food settle. From when they first arrived, you wanted to have some time with just Arwen and Sam, and this was the first time that it was finally materializing.

“Of course you’re the first one out of the Fellowship to have a baby,” You smiled down at Sam as you and Arwen took smaller steps to match his stride. “A few, in fact, unless - oh please don’t tell me that Pippin has reproduced.” Sam laughed at that and shook his head, his curls flying around his face. “No, not yet, but he might.”

You listened as Arwen and Sam caught up with one another, for they didn’t speak to one another as often as they spoke to you. Being more on the quiet side, Arwen mostly listened as Sam talked about his family, the Shire, the love of his home and his friends, and of course - how much he missed his best friend Frodo Baggins.

You slowed down and a hand caught yours, fingers intertwining. No other person would dare touch you like that other than your husband, so you knew immediately that it was him, and squeezed. You looked to your side to see that he had caught up to you, and under the twilight sky, he looked absolutely beautiful. His hair was loose and flowing past his shoulders, golden as the mane of the horse that he rode. His dark eyes sparkled as they always did when he looked at you - only when he looked at you. Since the moment that you first set eyes on one another in the field, while looking for the two young hobbits Merry and Pippin, a connection had been formed that a dangerous war and the risk of impending death did nothing to sever.

“Having a good time?” Eomer asked you, matching your steps.

You reached just past his ear to one of the rose vines behind him, and plucked a deep red one, narrowly avoiding the thorns. It’s scent was strong, and vibrant. You twirled it between your fingers and caught your husband’s eye once more.

“Nothing in this world could ever be more perfect than tonight has been.” You assured him, and tucked it behind his ear in a teasing manner.

#Eomer x reader #Eomer oneshot #Lord of the Rings #Lord of the Rings oneshot #Eomer #request #LOTR #LOTR oneshot #oneshots

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ramblingrybo · 4 years

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Come into the Garden, Kev

Kevin, the pheasant, has been with us now for seven weeks. To honour his continued presence we have taken to calling him Kev which, unfortunately, has coincided with the sad disappearance of his tail feathers owing to a cat attack. Consequently, we now have a pheasant with a short name and a short body. The lack of tail feathers, however, has not curtailed his daily behaviour. Despite looking like a stubbed-out cigar butt, he still crakes like a band-saw and struts about the garden, nodding to the worms. When he needs a rest, he stands on one leg underneath the bird feeders and blinks, innocently.

Kev’s lack of tail feathers brings to mind an incident from my past in which a pheasant featured strongly. I had better keep my voice down because it ended tragically. Think of me whispering the next bit. i was twelve and I was bush-beating at a December shoot in Swineshead, near Boston. We were just finishing our last drive of the morning. The guns had stopped firing and we were walking to the end of the field. Directly in front of me, however, twitching in the furrow, was a cock pheasant with a broken wing. It had congealed blood on its chest. Now, there is an unspoken rule in game-shoots that if you come across an injured bird directly in your path then it is your responsibility to finish it off. I stopped and gulped. I knew what I had to do. Reluctantly, I picked up the bird, its head cupped in my hand. The technique was to spin the body round, then jerk it to a stop, thus snapping the neck and putting the bird out of its misery. Unfortunately, I was a little too energetic in my attempt. Having closed my eyes, I spun the body then jerked, only to hear the bird’s body fly through the air and land in front of me. Opening my eyes, I could see the body bounce then roll to a standstill, the tail feathers flapping violently against the ground. However, my fist was still clenched, squeezing something hard like a golf ball. Through squinting eyes, I peeled back my fingers one by one. Nestling in the cup of my hand, a pheasant’s head, vividly green, white and red like the Italian flag. I froze. But then it winked at me. Flinging the head behind me, I jigged on the spot, flailing the air to rid me of the horror. In the end, I had to be held fast by my friend, Mick, and force-fed a Mars Bar to counter the shock. Naturally, I suffered nightmares for weeks afterwards.

But that is enough about decapitated pheasants. Let us get back to the garden. For the last three days, I have been involved in a concerted bout of weed destruction and cutting back. With Kev’s dissonant crakes to keep me company, I have de-mossed the pantiles on the study roof with a hoe, fought a fierce battle with a Mermaid rose, scraped ivy from three walls and savaged yet more ground elder, this time from the edge of our new wild bit of garden. In the process, I have been able to appreciate some of the wild flowers which we or the birds have planted in the last few years. And I am going to tell you about four of them. Now, before you start yawning and saying things like, ‘Wild flowers? That’s about as interesting as poetry’, let me reassure you that you can forage for all of them in our country lanes and that all four are edible. Even better, one can ward off the plague and two are noted aphrodisiacs. Interested now? Yes, I thought you might be.

Right, let’s start with Bistort which we have growing in our pond. It has pink spikes and heart shaped leaves and it is also known as Snake Weed, Pudding Dock or Passion Dock. These last two names refer to its use in Easter Ledger Pudding which is a favourite in the Lake District and Yorkshire. The young leaves can be boiled and made into a puree which is then added to butter, chopped boiled eggs and boiled barley before being pressed. It looks like stuffing and is served with roast lamb. There, that’s something for you to try at home.

Much more common, however, is Garlic Mustard aka Jack-by-the-Hedge, Poor Man’s Mustard, Sauce-Alone or Penny Hedge. It has small white flowers and heart-shaped, tooth-edged leaves. This can be found on most roadside verges at this time of the year. The edible leaves which taste of garlic can be used in a salad. Furthermore, the flowers can be steamed like broccoli as a vegetable and the root makes an excellent substitute for horse-radish. ‘Wow,’ I can hear you purring, ‘that is some larder-filling plant.’ ‘I know,’ is my reply, ‘but that’s not all...’ It is also the major food plant for caterpillars of the orange-tip and green-veined butterflies and, when mashed up, can provide a disinfecting poultice.

Still with me? Good, because we now come to a couple of racier individuals. The first is Sweet Woodruff aka Kiss-Me-Quick, Ladies In The Hay or Wild Baby’s Breath. It is a ground-hugging, shade-loving plant with rich green leaves and flowers like small bright white stars. The whole plant is vanilla scented and when dried the leaves smell like new mown hay. In the past, it was strewn on floors or stuffed in pillows or mattresses. Nowadays, it is steeped in Rhine wine in Germany to make their Maibowle or Maybowl. It is also considered slightly aphrodisiac.

More potent still is Sweet Cicely which is related to Cow Parsley but has creamier, denser flower heads and delicate, fern-like leaves. It is also known as Garden Myrrh or Sweet Chervil. The whole plant smells and tastes of aniseed. The strongest flavour comes from the root which in the past has been used to ward off plague, given as a tonic to drooping teenagers and chomped on a daily basis to increase the lust of old people. Sounds like a plant for these desperate times, don’t you think? As well as its reinvigorating properties, the leaf of Sweet Cicely can be used in a salad or cooked with sour fruit, like rhubarb, to get rid of the tartness. But this is a plant which keeps on giving because later in the year the large brown seeds can be used as a spice or sucked like a sweet as an alternative to an aniseed ball. I think you’ll agree, this is certainly one multi-purpose plant and perhaps the most versatile of all of them.

So, happy foraging. But before I go, I have some breaking news. The first swifts are back which means that Kev will soon have to compete with groups of them screaming in their death-defying races around the rooftops and treetops of Tealby. I’m sure he will give as good as he gets.

Finally, happy birthday to my youngest daughter, Hannah, all those miles away in Lockdown Highgate. Have a great day.

#wild flowers; foraging; pheasants; game-shoots; folklore

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mommydragon-of-all · 4 years

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2,4,8,18, 32,34,35, and 36 for Soren!

100 OC Asks

2. What is their voice like?

Right off the bat with a question i cant fully answer. How do you describe a voice?… Well, in DAI he rolls with the Male British Voice but it’s not really how i hc him…. Hmm… Well, it’s like, i guess on the deeper side but not that much - unless he drops a few octaves for… reasons. It got a certain purr to it, that also gets evident when drops deeper. On average, as he usually speaks in a loud and cheerful manner, sounding higher and clearer, you don’t really observe those deep tones his voice gains when he’s speaking relaxed or sleepy or seductive and such. That tingling purr is easily shifted to bone shaking growl territory though when he is angry and/or out for blood. yeah he’s an animalIf this gives you some idea….

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

Oh boiii, he got MANY. Yet few that he isn’t fast to admit and let people have fun on his expense, often even laughing at himself with them. But there’s one thing that comes to mind that he tries hard to change in stories.

He used to have very long hair, the exact dark blood red of their mother’s and he had pride in it, thick and strong and brilliant like hers, tied high with her ribbon the smol twins found around where she died (long heroic and tragic story). When his long hair comes up in stories or other chatting he admits that he had “lost it” a few years ago, and if pried further he only says that it was to a sharp dragon spike and fire.

His sister tells a completely different story than what people usually assume from that though, if you are worthy and buy her a drink for it XD

What actually happened is that he rolled into the campfire in his sleep, and his sister fixed his remaining hair into a passable shape with her dragon spike knife, hands shaking from laughter.

You know how he sleeps XD. Brain out cold, body moving around like an octopus, drawn to warmth. Touch is the only sense that has live connection to his brain and can sound the wake up alarm. Having a fire going is a big hazard, he learned the hard way even before the hair incident. On the fateful dawn this happened, his sister kept second watch as always, keeping one eye out and one on Soren, pushing him back under the small tent with her boot when adjustment was necessary. (when alone he ties his belt to stuff and sets traps that pain-jolt him awake if triggered). Everything seemed quiet and peaceful, no big or off movements far and wide, some birds waking, a fox sneaking by, Soren half curled on the tent post, nice and tight… A perfectly average quiet morning. Cold and humid, irking her since her watch started, by dawn the languid, teasing dance of the campfire’s thin flames didn’t help her bladder either. So she just figured she could take two minutes to take a piss. WRONG. In that two minutes Soren got brushed by a small breeze carrying the warmth of the fire, he pooled off of the tent post and unconsciously slid and rolled towards its source….His sister jumped back to their small clearing to Soren’s… well… blaring alarm, pants still halfway down, with a blade out, magic flaring, ready for anything… except for the sight that greeted her. Soren screaming curses in 6 languages while wildly rolling around in the damp high grass, head and shirt on fire.Oh how upset he was, and pissed XD And as he was muttering under his breath and fuming all day his sister poked him constantly with comments that his head appears to be smoking, does he need some more water, and the like.By next evening he was laughing with her, but tried all sorts of bribes to keep her forever silent about this incident. Naturally, he couldn’t succeed.

He soon got so used to his short hair that the newer grew it out again, not having to keep it in mind during fights and climbs and stuff not to mention its weight and maintenance proved to be a nice bonus. Plus he found his new looks easy on the eye. Some cut forms changed sometimes but length not really.

Part of why he doesn’t tell the truth is that he does not want ppl to figure his big weakness of sleep rendering him dead to the world, and not just completely vulnerable, but also endangering himself with his crawling around. Some rogue he is XD But proven friends always get the story from his sister eventually.

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

He ate all kinds of dishes that appear around Thedas as he grew up almost constantly on the road, so there were many that other parts consider weird. He finds this a curious thing. One normal dish to a coast of Antiva is a completely disgusting monstrosity to a mountain town in Nevarra, and so on.

But from an outside point of view the answer may be something like raw worms and the kind he a few times had to resort to for survival.

Or something completely different, considered weird, that he regularly does: eating predatory animals and even some monsters…. Often raw. Its actually his favorite. (can be blamed on all the blood magic work on his body, at least the craving of fresh blood, and the fact that he gains the most energy from meat, and he needs a lot of energy to run his boosted systems. He is kind of accidentally shaped towards a predatory animal by being enhanced. Nobody knows for sure how much this is the woken primal drives and how much just plain weirdness though XD)

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

Soren LOVES music. He enjoys all kinds of skilled performances, likes to sing too (average singer but got that pleasant purr going for him), but his favorite thing about music is the merry atmosphere it can create and the dancing.So, the upbeat good vibe bits. He loves how people light up from some good music and dancing and he loves to dance, be it a fast paced loud group activity or a sensual slow glide. heck his fighting style is sort of a dance too Music should keep the spirits up, he thinks, and he is pleased to see that it often does. Its like a form of magic in his eyes, and we know how he loves magic… and people… and warming hearts.

32. Pet peeves?

Huh, another hard question. A LOT of things tick him off, and he is hot-blooded with a short fuse when it comes to things he has a displeasure for. (a similar trait of the twins but sister dislikes moooore stuff XD) Mostly things of the rich and ignorant and the festering scum. …But also like, sitting at a tavern’s counter and witnessing a pig say some disgusting slur or abusive shit etc to the servant has his fist instantly replying to it in their stead. No prelude. So I guess those things can also be considered here, tho I honestly newer quite grasped the full meaning of this English expression.

34. Least favorite food?

Green stuff. Let the animals eat weeds, he’ll eat the animals.Oh and if something doesn’t have meet in it, it is not real food. If it has at least a decent amount of sugar, then it’s at least a snack.

35. Least favorite color?

That is something he doesn’t really think much of, but would probably answer with “some muddy nonsense”. Basically anything that looks dirty, faded, washed out or muddy. It reminds him of the dirty alleys, rundown shacks, the old, stained and thrown out rags he more often than not had to wear growing up and he HATED it, like he hates poor quality and crude stuff, and poverty in general.

36. Least favorite smell?

Well, bad odors obviously, but that seems like a too obvious answer so.. least favorite…hmm

Too strong stenches, even if it was meant to be pleasant. Like flowers that ooze like no tomorrow, or someone wearing a bucket of perfume. His heightened senses can’t handle it, makes him kinda nauseous, besides it masks a lot of things he could read from a person’s scent at any given moment. He doesn’t like not knowing things he is used to be able to.

It may be an interesting thing to mention that he also absolutely loathes the scent of food going bad. He picks up on it much sooner than normal senses would, long before it’s considered not good to consume anymore. This puts an extra strain on his feeding problem, with him needing to consume at least the double of what an average man of his build needs for a day, always needing to get fresh stuff.

Thank you ever so much for the ask! >*^.^*

#soren lavellan #soren #oc ask #ask meme #ask

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lady-o-ren · 5 years

Text

Underneath the Elder Tree

Chapter One

William Fraser had never known a mothers touch in all his young years until he found one under the withering white flowering of an elder tree.

It had happened deep in the forest where the trees grew wild and their branches twined thick, creaking as they swayed from the brisk autumn wind. Their leaves rained down in a golden, sweeping haze, pushing the lad down unfamiliar paths hoping he would notice with just a turn of chin, a maiden fair to care for and she him.

But Willie was deeply distracted searching for frogs, speckled back and green, hoping to find a friend before the forest would cloak in frost and he, stuck in his cabin with only the cracklings of the hearth and his father's chatter for company.

He peered into the dark crevices of craggy rocks only to find hissing beetles, bent on hands and knees to the wet rot of decaying logs, coming eye to eye with a brood of mice huddled in grey furry warmth that glared at him with scorn at the rude invasion.

Nothing that croaked or hopped.

Willie puffed a disappointed sigh to a wasted morning where all he had to show for his efforts was a runny nose that he rubbed along the arm of his too-big wool coat, breeks muddied at the knees that would earn him a tongue lashing from his father with pockets of uneaten worms writhing for escape in the folds. Not to mention a mucky stench clinging to him that left Willie fearing a bath most of all.

He scrapped a hole in the damp soil with the heel of his shoon, crushing the ring of fungi tops and releasing their pungent tang as he emptied his pockets of the wee limbless creatures that had coiled around one another in a slimy pink cluster.

Trudging back home through the slippery mud that left a squelching gasp with every step, Willie caught a sight that had him sinking to the sludge. Tucked away amongst thistle weeds and ferns under a crooked elder tree was a woman curled upon herself like a doe lost in sleep. He felt his heart lodge thick in his throat as his father's voice echoed in his head.

"A beauty beheld in the wilderness is to never be disturbed nor trusted, mo mhac, for there is only treachery lurking where their souls aught to be."

It was one of the many warnings from his father's tales told by the hearth where the spritely fires would alight his grizzle-haired face in a molten sheen as Willie sat at his knee in wide eyed captivation with his wooden snake, Sawney, clasped tightly in his hands.

The stories he'd tell were of witches, faeries, and other vile creatures that dwelled in trees tall enough to blight out the sun so as to snatch a wanderer who'd lost their way, or hide in the rings of standing stones, shaped like jagged teeth as howling wails escaped its maw, waiting for boys such as he.

But there were no towering rocks for the wee folk to hide, nor yet was the sun on it's descent to swallow him in night. No, today he would be like his father. Just as braw, just as brave, if maybe not nearly as tall for the lass in need.

Squaring his shoulders (blood pounding in his ears), Willie picked up a long weathered stick to wield in his hands on the off chance she was one of the wicked folk and approached her like he would for his much loved hoppers - quietly, with hands and legs ready to sprint into action if things went awry.

But as he got closer he saw the woman for what she truly was.

She was clad in a ragged brown coat, thrown open at the waist, where a sullied pale dress could be seen that gathered at her knees. The once fine embroidery depicting spring had succumbed to her travels, unraveling budding flowers with their strange blue leaves (of which Willie had never before seen) and long green vines stitched like the rippling waves of sea. There were rips in the sheer fabric exposing her protruding ribs where faint streaks of blood marked her skin white as snowdrops and white as Willie's face from the startling sight of red. He tore his eyes up to see her tangled craze of curls dark as his own that framed her face gaunt from hunger with lips tinted a deathly kiss of blue.

Her being was such a lifeless thing that Willie thought her dead.

Though to be sure, he gritted his teeth (with a stuttering breath that whistled through his nose) and poked her bared calf with his stick. She woke with a blood curdling groan, swatting her hand towards Willie, who promptly dropped his stick to frantically scamper away at having awakened the dead - if only he hadn't tripped over a tree root jutting up from the ground, falling with a graceless thunk.

"Ifrinn!" Willie yelped, sure he was on his way to meet his creator.

But then the woman of the forest unfurled herself from a pallet of ferns and leaves, parting her dirt-speckled hair that revealed eyes of bewitching amber that glimmered in the rich evening light dappling through the boughs above. They landed on his face, transfixed to hers taut with shock - then darted warily to their surroundings. When nothing stirred from the bushes, the looming shadows of the trees, she found her breath and spoke with a voice gentle and warm as summer rain.

"Did I frighten you, little one?"

Willie nodded, mouth agape. The sound of her flushing his cheeks. "D - Di' I scare ye?"

She brushed a hand along her calf, as she nodded back too. "Terribly. I thought you were a daring fox mistaking me for its supper."

The word supper raised the fine hairs on the back of his neck as he was reminded once more of his father's words. He dug his fingers deep into the soil grasping for a stone.

"Are ye of the auld folk that steals away boys like me tae feed tae yer weans?" Each word tumbled from the quiver of his mouth that both pained and amused the woman to hear.

"Oh, dear boy, is that what you think of me?" She gave him a smile to reassure him that she was nothing of the sort. "You will live another day and many more until you're very old and grey for I have no interest beyond the elderberries to fill my belly." She then laid her palms open at her lap, fingers numb and stiff. "I promise, you have nothing to fear from me."

Showing more trust to a stranger than a boy really ought to, Willie let the burning breath he'd been holding pour out of him in a white cloud of relief. But a new worry took hold as he reached forward, grazing a stubby finger against her berry stained ones, icy to the touch.

"Ye canna eat the berries off the tree, they'll twist yer innards somethin' awful and the black ones do ye worst of all," Willie said with a frown, regretting sharing his last chunk of bread with the wood mice.

Then a kindness so obvious to a child came to mind.

"Come home wi' me!" He said with bright-eyed sincerity, propping high up on his knees. "We have bread and meat and soup that isna cold and a hearth sure tae roast ye - no' that it would," Willie added hurriedly." And -"

"I don't think your family would want you bringing home a stranger, especially one who has no means to pay such generosity back. Don't worry for me, I'll make do here as I am," she firmly insisted.

But Willie saw how her breath whispered from her lips chapped with cold, and how she shivered in her coat, threadbare and useless to ward against the wind growing sharper, seeping to the bone. And what would shield her from the cruel things that hunted by moonlight? He knew not a thing, he saw those scratches at her sides.

No, despite what she said, whatever she may be, Willie wouldn't leave her be.

Stubbornly shaking his head, Willie replied, "I ken my, Da, and he would skin me tae my toes fer leavin' ye here in the cold in no' but tatters, hurtin' and alone. But I promise if ye come wi' me no harm will touch ye as long as I'm near."

A flicker of tenderness shined in her eyes, before shutting them tight, bowing her head, feeling faint. She pressed a trembling palm to her brow as her sight began to haze and prickle with white. She needed to send this fool-hearted boy away before the desperate sleep she so sought would take her. Quietly. Finally at peace.

The lad had simply come too late.

So she hardened her voice with all the grit she could muster, hoped it gleamed vile in her eyes like the creatures he thought she was. "You don't even know my name, nor I yours, boy. You owe me nothing. I need nothing. Now go home before the sun falls behind the mountains and you into the fangs of the beastly wicked."

He flinched hard alright, but clenched his jaw just as quick, undeterred, and kicked himself to his feet with a throaty grunt.

"My name is William James Fraser, your servant," he said, sounding far older than his young years. He waited for a response and after several heartbeats it was given with a heavy sigh.

"Claire," she answered simply with an exasperated look. "But this doesn't mean - "

"William!"

Came a worrying bellow, startling the two. They turned to see a man off in the distance crashing through the overgrown bracken, flushed red as his hair, frantically searching, searching. . .

Claire's hands balled into fists on instinct, her face marked with distress.

"Tis a'right," Willie said softly, trying to calm her. "It's only my Da. He willna hurt ye. He likes the lasses - I think."

Still, Claire forced herself to her feet, leaning against the trunk of the tree for stability as Willie reassured again that she had nothing to fear before rushing off to his father.

___

"Da! Da! Da!" Willie shouted, barreling into his father, all knooby elbows and knees.

"Taing do dhia," Jamie breathed as he kneeled and checked his son over for injury, feeling heart throbbing relief that he was whole and safe. Then he grabbed the lad by the shoulders to meet the ire of his eyes.

"Ye wee wretch!" He growled, though not entirely unkind. "Have I no' told ye time and time again yer no' to venture into the wilderness wi'out me. Tis dangerous for you, as it is for me. Yet here ye are again, blackening my temper, tearing my sanity in two. I aught to tie ye hand and foot but I reckon ye gnaw through the rope like the wee ratten ye are."

"I'm sorry, I dinna mean to stray far." But Willie was hushed from speaking more by a gentle shake of his shoulders.

"That's always yer excuse, lad. Either yer sticking that heid of yers down foxholes or trying to snap yer neck climbing trees to gather bird feathers." Jamie had to refrain from rolling his eyes when informed they were, "No' just any feathers".

"So what daft thing was it this time?"

A smile touched Willie's lips, his face aglow. "I found a faerie woman, I'm sure of it. I promised she could come home wi' us, have supper wi' us and ye say it's a mighty sin tae break yer word, bad as lyin'."

"Aye," Jamie said quietly after a moment's troubled hesitation, eyeing him very closely. "I have told ye so." And ran a hand over his sons head, feeling for a bump. "Does this faerie of yers have a name?"

"Claire," Willie said excitedly. "I'll show ye to her."

He was then dragged to his feet towards the lone elder tree amidst the mossy sprawl of birch and pine, where the woman proclaimed to be faerie was where she'd been left - leaning against the drooping shade. Only now she was grasping a dagger, staring with eyes large and feral at the man in front of her, whose pulse convulsed at his throat.

Jamie's hand flew to the hatchet belted at his waist that could swing at animals twice his size with a graceful ease, but Willie exclaimed, "No Da!" knowing this as well.

"Claire's only scairt of ye! Please dinna hurt her!" The wee lad planted his feet to the grass and threw his arms around Jamie's hoping to weigh it down. Instead the elder reached with his other hand but with the wooden handle pointed at Claire.

"Does my son tell me true? Do ye hold that blade to protect yerself or to harm?"

Her blurring gaze jumped from Jamie to Willie, whose face had gone ghost-white, yet still he kept true to his word, and moved to stand between her and his father like a devoted knight. With her eyes beginning to sting and an unaccustomed warmth flaring small beneath her breasts, Claire lowered her hand but kept hold of the dagger that had been hidden in the folds of her ruined dress.

Parting her lips she murmured near breathless, "I - I only lost my way." Then all went deathly black and chilling as she fell to the mottled leaves.

"Ye killed her, Da!" Willie cried as he came to Claire's side.

"How could I when I laid no' but eyes upon her?!" But Jamie too sank beside her, with guilt rippling sickly in the pit of his stomach for raising his hand to one who now looked so pitiful and small. Gently, he rested his hand against her ribs, cringing at how he could feel the starving curve of each one, and found that she did indeed still breathe.

"She's no' dead," Not yet anyway. She made a small sound, a strangled whimper, in unconscious agreement.

"Then we bring her home, right?" Willie's voice was an anxious plea, as he smoothed Claire's curls from her face.

"Seems we must as she has no other."

Jamie then glanced up to the sky where clouds of stormy grey began to billow and whirl, slowly veiling the last orange rays of sunlight. Swiftly, he took off his wool coat and wrapped Claire tight, holding her flushed to the heat of his chest, wondering how she hadn't frozen before being found.

"What about her dagger?"

The long blade laid off to the side and rather than leaving what had been aimed at his gullet, Jamie belted it aside his hatchet.

As he hoisted her up in his arms and walked down the sloping, steep paths home (with Willie uncharacteristically quiet, but with his lone urgent chant of "Hurry, Da" while casting worried glances his way) Jamie pondered who or what he embraced. This woman with eyes like no other being he'd ever known or dreamed of, yet fragile as any mortal man.

Where did ye come from, lass?

___

A/N:

*Willie is the son of Mary MacNab (deceased) in this world. A lot easier to write good things about her then Geneva.

*The Elder tree symbolizes new life and the fairy realm

Thank you for reading!

#Outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #someone needs to kick me in the ass so i can finish just between lovers #cause i know no one wants to read about willie #or claire needing body warmth from a certain scot #this story is purely indulgent just so i can write one scene

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hungline · 5 years

Text

crafts and magic and flowers

pairing: namyoonjin genre: fluff, mild angst, flower shop au, witches au, rated t warnings: fem!yoonjin, namjoon falling off a ladder words: 1670

summary: Yoonji hates Namjoon, it’s true, despite what her girlfriend, Jinah, may say about Yoonji actually thinking the glasses wearing blonde is cute. Yep, Yoonji hates him.

Still, it’s better if he didn’t find out the two girls who own the flower shop are nature and love witches. Maybe.

⇢ day three of yoonjin week

"Hey, Yoonji-yah. That guy is back again."

Yoonji looks up from her flowers, a frown marring her features, making Jinah laugh and push her bangs out of the little witch's eyes.

"Tell him to go away," Yoonji says, turning back to her flowers without another word.

Jinah laughs again, pressing a kiss to the top of Yoonji's blonde hair. "You know he'll just be back tomorrow. He always is."

Yoonji shrugs and mutters a spell under her breath to help her flowers stay fresh. "And you know that I don't care, unnie. Go enchant him with your pretty mouth or something and keep him away for a week."

"You're so mean to that poor boy. You've exchanged, like, twenty words with him and have already decided you hate the ground he walks on."

"You say that as if I owe him something. Plus, you know I hate everybody," Yoonji grumbles, sighing when she spots the watering can above her head on the highest shelf where the butterfly weed and blanket flowers are plotted so the sunlight can hit them directly. "Did you leave the watering can up there?"

"You don't hate me," Jinah points out as she looks up at the shelf then giggles. "I forgot. Sorry for not remembering to bring it back down."

Yoonji sighs and shakes her head. "Just go and get the ladder, unnie."

"Aye, aye," Jinah replies, pressing a kiss to Yoonji's cheek before she disappears into the back room.

Yoonji sighs again, knowing full well that Namjoon is browsing the rows of flowers behind her and doing his best to pretend he wasn't eavesdropping. Yoonji rolls her eyes and cracks her knuckles as Jinah returns with their biggest ladder. The elder witch is quick to set it up, holding onto the side of the ladder tightly to make sure it isn't rickety or wobbles while Yoonji climbs it.

Before Yoonji can even place her foot on the first rung, Namjoon is pushing her aside and climbing the ladder swiftly, his long arms grabbing hold of the can easily. Yoonji blinks, dumbfounded as he begins his descent down only now noticing that he isn't wearing his glasses.

But Yoonji and Jinah should know better by now. Namjoon can't walk across a flat surface without finding something to trip on and if Yoonji wasn't persistent in the fact that she hates Namjoon, she would admit that his clumsiness is endearing. Still, it shouldn't surprise either of them that Namjoon is only a third of the way down when he misses the next rung and falls off the ladder.

"Shit," Jinah yelps, unsure of whether to let go of the ladder or not as Namjoon falls, a yell ripping itself out of his lungs.

Yoonji is quick to act, spitting out spells in short, unmeasured breaths, commanding that her plants head her request. Thankfully, they do, wrapping their leaves and vines and roots around Namjoon, holding him in place before they slowly set him on the ground. He holds the watering can to his chest, a frantic look in his eyes and mouth agape as the plants unravel around him, returning to their original positions. Yoonji murmurs a quick thanks as Jinah crowds around Namjoon, checking him for injuries.

He sports only a few shallow cuts from where the roses' thorns scraped his skin, but he's mostly unscathed and now Yoonji needs to figure out if she knows any memory wiping charms.

"You–"

"Joon-ah, are you okay? Does anything hurt?" Jinah speaks over him, her hands frantic as she checks him for more injuries.

"Joon-ah? Since when have you two been so close?" Yoonji asks, brow furrowed.

Jinah blushes, her face turning a soft pink as Namjoon's ears turn red. Yoonji crosses her arms over her chest and gives them an unamused look.

"Namjoon-ssi, have you been flirting with my girlfriend behind my back?" Yoonji questions, her gaze hard and unrelenting.

Namjoon shakes his head fervently, his neck red as well now. "No! Of course not! You know that I like you, Yoonji-ssi."

Jinah huffs out an irritated breath as Yoonji fights back a pleased smile. "So calling me pretty and touching my lips isn't considered flirting now?"

Namjoon's gaze swivels between the two women before him, both eyeing him warily as a nervous sweat begins to work up on his skin. "I don't think that's the most important thing to discuss right now. Your plants are magic!"

Yoonji sighs. "No, they aren't."

"But–"

"You should go," Jinah says, taking the watering can from his hands and handing it to Yoonji before she pushes him towards the door. "We would understand if you didn't come back, but for now, you should go, Joon-ah."

"Hey–" Namjoon tries to respond.

Jinah is already pushing him out the door and closing it in his face by then though. She's quick to put the "Out to Lunch" sign on the door and lock it, turning off the main lights as she makes her way back to an irritated Yoonji. Jinah offers her a timid smile, expecting a fight to break out.

"You've been flirting with him behind my back," is all Yoonji says instead, her arms crossed over her chest again.

Jinah shrugs and holds her hands out in front of her pitifully. "You said you wanted him to leave you alone, so I kind of flirted with him to get him out of here faster."

Yoonji only stares at the elder witch. "You didn't–"

"I might have cast a few infatuation spells on him to pay attention to me, but nothing more than that and they weren't powerful," Jinah offers quickly.

Yoonji shakes her head, turning back to her flowers as she picks up the watering can once again. "Whatever. I just want to know what you plan to do now that he knows something weird is going on."

Jinah relaxes, leaning against the counter behind her as she watches Yoonji work. "Let him think whatever he wants. He probably isn't going to come back anyway so let's just act normal and go on with our lives. It's what we do best."

"Fine," Yoonji says, not wanting to admit that she feels disappointed about Jinah's solution. "We'll let him decide whether he comes back or not, but if he does, then we have to explain. If he decides to stay then he needs to know what exactly he's staying for."

Jinah nods, pressing herself to Yoonji's back as she wraps her arms around the smaller witch. "We'll be fine. Things will work out okay. Don't worry, love."

"I hope so, unnie," Yoonji replies, letting herself melt into the older girl's embrace.

Later, when the flower shop is about to close and Jinah has already rang up the last customer as Yoonji sweeps the floor, the door opens. Yoonji looks up as the bell jingles, announcing a new customer and freezes where she stands.

"Hello! Welcome to Jinah's Flowers. We're about to close, but you're welcome to..." Jinah begins to say before she looks up towards their new customer and trails off mid sentence.

Namjoon blinks at them, his glasses back on where they usually are and long blonde hair gelled back. He looks every bit of a godsend as he did when Yoonji first laid eyes on him. Jinah stumbles out from behind the counter and walks slowly towards him as if entranced, and Yoonji almost wants to laugh at how the tables have turned on the love witch she admires so.

"You came back," Jinah whispers.

Namjoon nods, gaze switching from Yoonji to Jinah and back. "I decided that I didn't care whether you're witches or something else entirely not human. It doesn't matter to me."

Yoonji startles when Jinah throws herself at Namjoon and kisses him full on the mouth. Namjoon's hands come up to hold her waist, stepping back to catch the momentum of her weight, but Yoonji doesn't trust him to not fall back anyway so she leans her broom against the counter and makes her way towards the two.

Namjoon and Jinah break away when Yoonji worms her way in between the two, hands curling around Namjoon's neck as she brings his face down to hers. Jinah watches as they exchange a kiss now, one of Namjoon's hands leaving Jinah's waist only to grab hold of Yoonji's waist instead.

When they pull away, Namjoon's face is flushed a soft pink, his glasses gleaming in the fluorescent lights above their heads. "If I had known it would take me falling off a ladder to get kissed by two gorgeous women, I would've done it sooner."

Jinah's windshield laugh fills the air around them as Namjoon smiles at the two witches, amused by Yoonji's unimpressed expression. Jinah's arms circle around Yoonji's torso, her fingers playing at the ends of Namjoon's shirt while Yoonji leans into Jinah and fingers the hairs on Namjoon's nape.

"You came back," Yoonji says instead, watching as Namjoon's smile softens when he meets her gaze.

"I intend to stay as well," he says, no hesitance in his tone as he does.

Yoonji looks over her shoulder to meet Jinah's gaze. The witches nod, exchanging smiles before they both lean in and kiss Namjoon on his cheeks. He smiles, his dimples on full display and Yoonji can't deny any longer that he really is cute beyond belief. Jinah giggles and tightens her hold on Yoonji, burrowing her nose into the little witch's hair as Namjoon presses himself closer to the smaller girl and kisses her cheek.

Yoonji feels warm and very safe in the arms of her lovers.

They close up shop then, Jinah inviting Namjoon to dinner at their place that's above the flower shop. Namjoon accepts, helping them with the closing routine.

Just as Yoonji flicks the lights off, the evening primroses begin to bloom when the moonlight meet them, whispering soft words of encouragement to her while Jinah takes Namjoon's hand and leads him upstairs.

Yoonji whispers a soft thanks back.

#namyoonjin #yoonjin #namjin #namgi #hyunglinenetwork #bangtan bookclub #kwordsmiths #btsguild #betareadernet #bts #fluff #p:ot3 #p:seokjin/yoongi/namjoon #f:c&m&f #s:yjw #m: fic

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