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rinny-rae · 1 month

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What Could Have Been

Chapter 2

Summary

The tadfools form a plan to rescue Wynn

Characters: Shadowheart POV, Astarion, Jaheira, Orin

Rating: M

Word Count: 2K

Tags/CW: This one is just a few friendos adventuring. Still grimdark but SFW for once!

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

Tick Tock

“Wynn is not in the dungeons,” Astarion yelled into Shadowheart’s ear, straining to be heard over the constant clank of metal on metal.

Shadowheart flinched at the unexpected sound of his voice, missing the vial and spilling runepowder all over the desk. The passage of time felt abstract underground. Rather than relying on things like clocks or sun positions, Shadowheart now measured time in the number of bombs she had put together. Astarion has been gone for exactly one hundred and thirteen. Wynn, for four hundred and twenty six.

”Could they have moved him from the fortress without the Harpers knowing?” she asked and moved to bite her nails but realized her hands were covered in explosive chemicals and thought better of it. She carefully swept the loose runepowder onto a piece of parchment and directed it back into the vial.

Astarion moved to wipe a streak of soot from his cheek with the sleeve of his formerly ivory shirt. He only smeared it further.

“Either that or our beloved archduke has him in some private torture chamber.” He picked up an empty bombshell from the heap and stared at it, wrinkling his brow. The dark circles under his eyes have only gotten worse since she last saw him.

Shadowheart shivered despite the sweltering heat. She shoved her chair aside and began circling around the handful of feet of unobstructed space.

“It certainly does complicate things,” Astarion admitted bitterly.

“Few things are more certain than the existence of a private Archducal torture chamber,” grumbled a burly dwarf who slumped on the floor a few steps away. He leaned one hairy arm on a crate of metal slags, taking greedy bites out of a loaf of sourdough bread. Shadowheart had forgotten his name but was reasonably sure he was the blacksmith.

“Here’s to hoping Jaheira brings some better news,” Shadowheart said.

The Ironhand Clan hideout brimmed with frenzied energy. Two forges roared at the center of the cavern that the gnomes converted into their base of operations. Smoke billowed and pooled around the fires. Too heavy to escape through the hastily constructed vents, it covered every inch of the space with a thick layer of grime and made Shadowheart’s eyes water incessantly. An unrelenting river of workers, almost all deep gnomes, flowed around the two forges.

Shadowheart took a deep breath, coughed and willed herself to sit back down. Breaking Wynn out of the dungeons would have been a piece of cake but things were never simple, were they?

Opposite the forges stood two rows of tables littered with a miscellany of tools. Hammers, chisels and empty bombshells were strewn about every surface. Under the dim light of torches, a dozen gnomes put together all manner of explosives.

Shadowheart noticed Laridda hauling a sack of grain practically the size of her body and absentmindedly waved to her. The small woman waved back, then tripped over a mold that lay forgotten on the ground.

The blacksmith finished his meal and, with a groan, lifted the crate of metal he had been leaning on.

“This one's for Wulbren,” he clarified to no one in particular before shuffling away.

A fluffy cat, somehow pristinely white despite its surroundings, hopped onto the pile of chopped wood beside Shadowheart’s desk. It yawned and moved as if to stretch but its small body continued to elongate in all directions, shedding clumps of fur. It grew and twitched, an uncanny mix of beast and human. Astarion wrinkled his nose and turned away, still twirling the empty bombshell in his fingers.

“I found Wynn,” Jaheira said, smoothing back her long silver hair and brushing a pile of white fur off her lap. Laridda appeared seemingly from nowhere and handed her a black cloak. Jaheira smiled appreciatively, covered herself and studied the room for a long moment before Astarion finally butted in.

“Do share with the class,” he said.

“Would you get me something to draw with, dear?” Jaheira said to Laridda.

She waited for the gnome to leave before turning to Shadowheart.

“Nothing happens in Baldur’s Gate without the Harpers knowing,” she whispered and winked.

A vaguely familiar tiefling child weaved his way through the mass of workers. Moving with spring in his step as if out for a lovely stroll, he bound over to Jaheira and handed her a package wrapped in thick linen. She nodded and whispered something in his ear. The boy beamed, tapped two fingers to his forehead and slunk away.

“They’re holding Wynn on the top floor,” Jaheira said tucking the package away, “across from the lordling’s own quarters but blessedly, in a bedroom and not a torture chamber.”

Shadowheart bit into the stubby nail of her index finger tasting the bitter explosive powder and then the salty copper of fresh blood. The difference between a bedroom and a torture chamber was but a matter of circumstance.

Laridda appeared again with ink and parchment in one hand and two flashblinder grenades in the other.

“All we can spare for the moment,” she said apologetically as if the gnomes haven’t repaid their debts a thousand times over.

Jaheira passed the grenades to Astarion and began writing, mumbling under her breath.

“We could go through a window,” Astarion suggested.

“No, you can go through a window,” Shadowheart corrected.

“Besides, the issue isn’t so much going in as it is getting out.” She bit the nail on her middle finger and watched the blood pool around the grungy cuticle.

“Last I checked Wynn doesn’t fly and he sure as hell can’t climb down a fortress wall,” she added.

Jaheira nodded, scribbling something.

“We must speak to him,” she said, “there may be a way we could use this to our advantage.”

Shadowheart crossed her arms and began pacing once again; The idea did not sit well with her.

***

Shadowheart pulled her cloak tighter and stared straight ahead, weaving through the crowd. The crimson glow of the setting sun flashed in the few windows that hadn’t been shattered or boarded over.

Rivington looked more dour by the day. The Flaming Fists received firm instructions not to allow any refugees into the city proper which meant the outskirts were flooded with the dispossessed. Forced to sleep in the streets, they took to erecting makeshift shelters to protect themselves from the elements as best they could.

A bearded man grabbed Shadowheart by the elbow, pulling her into his chest as if for an embrace.

“You’re one of them Sharess’ Caress lasses aren’t ya?” he said, licking his lips, assaulting her senses with the rancid stench of alcohol and sweat. Shadowheart recoiled and spun out of his grasp. The man lurched, spat at her feet, and stumbled away shaking his head, looking offended.

“Gods, this place is positively vile,” Astarion said, stepping closer to her and discreetly placing one hand on the hilt of his dagger.

“The city has plenty of resources to accommodate the refugees,” Jaheira said, forging ahead. She pushed past a group of shouting women and slipped a scroll out of the sleeve of her cloak. A stout half orc bumped into her, grumbled something into her ear and disappeared into the crowd, tucking Jaheira’s scroll away beneath his shirt.

“This situation is hardly the fault of the people,” Jaheira added.

“This way,” she said and, urging her companions on with a small wave, dipped into an alley between two dingy buildings. The alley stank of piss and rot. A frail beggar girl huddled against the wooden fence that separated it from the cliffside and the river below. Across the river, insurmountable walls of Wyrm’s Rock loomed, barring free passage to the city.

The beggar reached for Astarion, her pleading stare that of a wounded animal.

“Shoo, get out of here,” he hissed, waving her away.

The girl scurried around the corner and faded into the gap between the crooked buildings.

Astarion hoisted himself on top of the fence and, squinting against the fiery sunset, extended a hand to Shadowheart. She took his hand and hopped up beside him.

Once atop the fence, she peered over at the cliffside that plunged into the river; Her head spun.

”No way I’m getting down there in one piece,” she shook her head.

Astarion rolled his eyes and, with an air of casual indifference, vaulted over the fence. Jaheira’s black cloak dropped to the ground and a white raven emerged. It soared above the fence and over the narrow expanse of the river, perching atop a boulder on the other side.

Shadowheart pointed her soot-stained fingers at Astarion and muttered two spells in quick succession. A cloud of fine mist engulfed him, then absorbed into his skin making him glow a faint blue.

“Wish me luck,” Astarion cooed. He blew Shadowheart a kiss and dashed toward the cliff’s edge, hurling himself off and sending a shower of gravel and twigs raining upon the calm waters below. Rather than plummeting to certain death, his body glided over the water and landed gently on the other side.

The white raven cawed and began preening itself.

Shadowheart shielded her eyes and watched until the two disappeared into the thicket beneath the fortress walls. She hopped off the fence, snatched Jaheira’s discarded cloak and headed for the alley’s exit.

A small voice trailed after her.

“A spare coin, miss?”

Shadowheart rolled her eyes but tossed the black cloak to the urchin as she walked past. It wasn’t much but the kid’s own clothing was no more than rags.

The revolting sound of snapping bones froze Shadowheart in place.

“Look at it, weep and wail and pity the innocent, ripe for the slaughter.”

The unmistakable singsong cadence sent a twinge of panic through Shadowheart’s chest.

“Orin,” she spat the name out like a bite of rotting meat. Turning on her heel, she frantically rummaged for a suitable weapon.

The changeling cocked her head too far one way then the other, blinking her milky pale eyes. With a mad grin she drew closer, lithe and careful, stepping silently - a wolf on a prowl. Shadowheart thought to run but that would only serve to thrill and hardly prolong the inevitable.

Besides, Shadowheart was no prey.

She fished out the vial of runepowder and shook it at the changeling, fixing her with a stony gaze.

“Recognize this?” she spat, “or is your brain too rotted from your so-called worship?”

Orin grinned even wider and pointed the split tip of her dagger at Shadowheart.

The curves and ridges of the metal made it seem organic - the glistening tongue of a monster ripped from its maw with her bare hands. The blade itself and the Netherstone encrusted in the hilt glistened the same grisly crimson as the suit of human flesh that Orin wore for armor.

“It means to kill us both,” she snickered and licked the blade almost salaciously, circling her quarry, testing for weakness.

“You make allying with the tyrant sound tempting,” Shadowheart said and forced a faux-confident smirk.

A venomous shadow fell over Orin’s face.

“Do not let the lordling hiss hot air into your worm-weakened brain. His throat spits lies,” she snarled.

”I’m well aware,” Shadowheart said, smirking in earnest now, “any other pearls of wisdom you care to impart?”

“Your doe-eyed sweetling brat already sings into the tyrant’s ear,” Orin said with a distinct undercurrent of mockery in her voice, “and so your seconds and minutes and hours cowering in the gnome pit are numbered.”

She stuck her lip out pretending to cry.

Shadowheart bristled, sickened by the implications.

“Wynn would never…” She started but trailed off into a bitter silence.

Wynn was a scared little boy, alone and helpless, left to his own devices.

“See for yourself tonight, tonight, tonight,” Orin licked her blade not taking her pale eyes off Shadowheart, apparently delighted by her reaction.

“Tick tock,” she pranced, retreating into the shadow, “tick tock.”

She disappeared in a puff of smoke leaving Shadowheart alone in the alley. Trembling, Shadowheart slumped against the stone of a crumbling façade and hugged herself.

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #rinium #bg3 shadowheart #shadowheart fic #shadowheart fanfic

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drmistytang · 6 years

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This is the beautiful and stoic Onna the Orc~! She's a really interesting character and I can't wait to learn more about her. Also I love her flopsy ears. She's from one of the (very few) webcomics I read, Tock the Gnome.

"Tock the Gnome: The Rescue Quest” is about a Gnome woman named Tock, who lives in the aforementioned Steampunk culture. Driven by a Fairy Tale about a trapped Elven princess on a floating island, she convinces her friend Bumble – an airship pilot – to join her quest to rescue her. They hire extra firepower from unfamiliar lands, and together they seek the island and the princess. But what they seek may not be quite what they expected… NOTE: Will contain lesbian romance, size-positivity, conundrums and tomfoolery." Check it out, because it's awesome!

#my art #commission #onna #tock the gnome

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rachelillustrates · 6 days

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My top 7 Faerie stories/worlds atm 🦋

**Note, I am super dupes aware that I haven't read/watched everything, so please feel free to reblog/comment with recommendations!**

Faerie is the pulse of my heart, and my mind/spirit/etc. spends a LOT of time thinking about it, SO here's the most resonant of depictions of the realm/faeries themselves in my current opinion (and why).

(And not in any particular order:)

Elfhame, @hollyblack 's "Folk of the Air" series and all related books

Arda, Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" and all related adaptations

"Suitor Armor" by @thepurpah

Studio Ghibli's take on spirits in Japanese folklore

Brian and Wendy Froud's take on Faerie

"Fraggle Rock"

"Tock the Gnome," by myself!

Thoughts:

(Art by Rovina Cai, from "How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories")

I feel very much that Holly Black gets the lushness and richness of Faerie, plus the trickery of it, and that level of dangerous beauty - what attracts humanity to it, etc. How everything is in extremes, too, but also how parts of it echo the human experience - both in terms of courts, but also in terms of the heart, and the emotional impact of intense circumstances and intense feelings.

I am, admittedly, not all caught up yet since I haven't read her earlier works, but of course I recommend starting with "The Cruel Prince" and reading forward from there (the more recent "Stolen Heir Duology" having an extra special place in my esteem)!

(Also special shoutout to the fact that there are Nisse - Gnomes! - in the recent books, AND that her take on Redcaps is absolutely Orcish 💚)

(Also also, cw: Changelings. They can be a triggering/upsetting subject, considering how our concept of them as humans seems to have come about. She does make pretty heavy use of them, but not in the ways that one might expect, and always from a very emotionally-centered space - not a humans-abusing-potential-fae space.)

So, Tolkien - yes, I am including the world of his works in this because even though he considered them religious and specifically-denominational, he took SO MUCH inspiration from folklore and faerie tales (do not even get me started on what got edited out of "The Silmarillion" istg) that Arda is not wholly Christian, from my Faerie-worshiping queer-ass faerie perspective thankyouverymuch. Not to mention what is being done in fandom with the faerie-races, especially the Dwarves and the Hobbits, AND what recent adaptations are opening up with the Orcs!! Obviously, his take on Faerie is a much more literally-grounded reality - they exist in the Earth-based world (as if Faerie has bled into what we expect Earth to be), they have magic (at least the Elves and Dwarves do) but it's both somehow super ethereal and super physical at once. And divinely connected, since the biggest magic in Middle-earth (or any part of Arda) comes from the lesser Gods - the Valar, and the Maiar who serve under them as well as from Big Sky Daddy Eru, but we're not talking about him right now. So that, to me, really speaks to the spiritual nature of Faerie too - which is always always always personally interesting to me, and Jrrt's take on the fae was absolutely foundational in my budding concept of them, before I even really thought about who they are in a conscious way.

I don't know where to recommend starting, since I got into the world through the Jackson films, first, and I wouldn't change my experience for anything because it's given me SO much. But in fandom, shoutout to the works of @conkers-thecosy (read her fics here!) as well as "A Long List of Happy Endings" by vicious_summer and "The Mushroom Mine" series by @chrononautintraining for Dwarf Stuff - and "Splint" by HelenaMarkos for Orc Stuff. Plus, as much as I know it's divisive, "Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power" is - again - doing wonders about the Orcs AND doing very well by the Dwarves too, in my opinion, showing them as a fully realized and thriving people (though Dwarf women should still have beards, Amazon!! And there seems to be some confusion around how the name of Durin functions...)!! Available to stream on Prime, here.

"Suitor Armor" takes place in a world that appears very similar to medieval Earth, and as such the worldbuilding itself doesn't feel very specifically Faerie - yet. However, with the main character having significant ties to the fae, and with the story still having space to explore their culture once the tale takes the characters there, I have faith that we are gonna see more of this take on Faerie specifically soon. In the meantime, what we have seen so far - how faerie magic works, how they relate to each other, etc. - rings true for me, and is lovely to behold, especially in the face of the tragedy around their circumstances in the Big Plot.

Free to read here (and coming to bookshelves in 2025!!).

As for Studio Ghibli - Miyazaki's take on the spirits of Japanese folklore - which are absolutely Faerie - was SO formative for me growing up. I don't have anything else to say about that except that he's right!!

I recommend "Princess Mononoke," "Spirited Away" and "My Neighbor Totoro," particularly. All available to stream on Max right now (but buying physical media is better, and they're very likely available to rent other places, too).

Brian and Wendy Froud's work has, of course, also been absolutely formative for me - especially when I started getting into Faerie properly. Their work doesn't require much commentary either - they're just correct 💗 Nothing I've experienced has ever contradicted what I've read in their books, and I feel like their work really, really gets the energy of the fae and the liminality of their existence. And that there is kindness, and light, as well as danger.

I recommend "Trolls" and "Faeries' Tales," to start with, and of course the quintessential "Faeries" by Brian Froud and Alan Lee, which started it all.

(Also, considering what's below, special honorary shoutout to their work on "The Dark Crystal." Definite overlap there and absolutely counts.)

Obviously there's some crossover with The Muppets here, considering they come from the same studio, BUT if we're looking at just "Fraggle Rock" on its own - absolutely. Though a very different take than those mentioned above, if you're looking for the whimsy and delight at the heart of the fae, the Fraggles have it.

Both the original series and the reboot are currently available to stream on AppleTV.

Okay, and my own! What I'm doing with the world of "Tock the Gnome" is a little bit different - again, we're looking at a realm that isn't free from some of the physical bounds we find on Earth - but in its vast history there is Faerie at its purest, and the characters are on a Big Quest that will be instrumental in restoring the realm to what one would expect of Faerieland (all wrapped up in a body-positive, sapphic-presenting queer romance, btw). My focus is on Gnomes and Orcs, in particular, since the fact that they're also fae is a big part of my message. Recognizing that, as well as recognizing the importance of connectedness between people and the balance of that and personal sovereignty, and how damage to those things might impact the whole of a magical realm.

All pages available to read for free here, across several platforms (with print issues available here).

🦋💗🦋👏👏

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anorclovesagnome · 2 years

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OH-kay so, I've been low key working on the playlist again as a) I've actually got a whole other one just for the Gnomes of the realm now, and b) I moved some things around on the Tock and Onna section of the existing playlist, and c) @madtumbleson has got me planning to do some Fancy Art for them. And in the midst of all of that this song freaking blindsided me like a WWE chair attack and is now very officially an Onna song from Tock’s unwitting perspective.

And it's all the Supernatural fandom's fault (affectionate).

So one incredible user is making short music videos to this song, featuring characters who are cinnamon rolls who could also murder you (among others, but that's the kind I saw first, Cas and Jack and Krissy's videos specifically), which was great fun for me to watch on repeat yesterday. And now, after approximately 20 hours of having it stuck in my head, it is clear to me that with Onna already in that category to a considerable degree..... yeah.

My thinky thoughts from that perspective, now, are that this is Tock’s subconscious brain level reaction to that fact - that Onna is secretly a Disney Princess level, charming small animals and singing songs, sweetheart once you get to know her, but will turn around and rip you to shreds if someone she loves is threatened. And that is just massively attractive.

Obviously the lyrics don't match up exactly, cause she's never gonna want her to stop that behavior and she will not be that bossy in relationship, BUT considering the tone of what the song was used for upon my discovering it, how we got here in the first place, here we are and it's too late.

So, enjoy 💚

#tock the gnome #tock and onna #playlist #inspiration #Spotify

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drzime · 7 years

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A prize art for @rachelillustrates, who placed in a contest me and @drmistytang ran. ^.^

#tock the gnome #my art #fantasy #sketch

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time4hemp · 5 months

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This Gnome 4The Holidaze - 3.5" Metal Christmas Ornament Will Add A Touch Of Humor To Your Tree. Please share this.

#hemp #cannabis #marijuana #medical marijuana #industrial hemp #medical cannabis #christmas #christmas decorations #sherlock gnomes #gnome #gnome post #gnomecore #deep gnome #tock the gnome #wizard #gnome art #gnome community #christmas tree #christmas gnome

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the-nagakenny-archives · 3 years

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I'm shy but I tried writing something hope you like it

One last sip of coffee and two stomps to properly secure his boots, and the Gravity Falls Weirdness Expert was out the door.

It was on a particularly sunny, clear day that found Stanford once again out in the field for a little catch up on his studies. The past week had been uneventful within the confines of his basement, as if the world was allowing him time to compile the numerous foot notes and sketches of his latest findings into a fairly cohesive summary within the first few pages of his second journal. Nights and afternoons were spent humming over words that didn't quite flow, and cross referencing facts he had uncovered with rumors that fell deaf upon all ears but his. Lovely as the quiet had been, seven days was more than enough time to stay cooped up in a research shack when there was plenty more to discover.

Stanford cupped a hand around his ear and listened. A woodpecker pecked away at its hole in a birch, determined for an early breakfast. Not too far from there, a squirrel skittered along branches, hoping for an acorn meal of its own. A gnome tutted at a rainbow puddle, helping its reflection pick at its latest zit.

All sounded normal, the scientist regarded with a deep sigh of disappointment. It was uncommon to not have something completely new to marvel over. Were it not for the gnome, one wouldn't know that they were in Gravity Falls at all. It was all so peaceful and Oregonian. Perhaps the world was still holding its breath over more important things to come. Perhaps it didn't quite realize that Stanford was more than ready to jump back into the weird and the wild.

Four more minutes of strolling and listening, Stanford was just beginning to consider going into town to replenish his supplies when he finally spotted an unusual subject he'd been craving.

A long, long, long snake tail hung from below the branches of a bright red leafed tree. The tip, maroon and tan in color, swung slowly and rhythmically back and forth, like the tick and tock of a pendulum on a grandfather clock. Stanford's wide eyes traveled up the tail to see the colors recede to darker browns in circled patterns as the mass grew thicker the higher his gaze climbed. Whatever was up there, the leaves could only do so much to completely cover it. It had to be massive.

The first, most obvious thought that came to his head was Python, but he quickly dismissed it. Pythons were not native to Oregon, certainly not one of this length at the very least. Except, this was Gravity Falls, where the only acceptable thing was to accept the unacceptable. Even so, a Python, even one as gigantic as this, seemed too...ordinary for the town's infamy. He'd made it this far by thinking outside the box, so what else could possible have a snake tail of this capacity?

It hit him, and he had to choke back a gasp of delight. "A naga! An actual naga!" The whispered excitement seemed especially piercing in the quiet of the early morning, but he was too elated to care. This was exactly what he had been waiting for to break what had started as a monotonous walk in the woods. Patting at his breast pocket for a pen and paper, he wracked his brain for what little he knew about these creatures. From what he remembered, the bottom half was always a snake, while the top half-

"Well, hello."

Stanford yelped and juggled his pen for two seconds before he composed himself enough to acknowledge that he was not alone. Clutching his pen holding hand to his chest to steady his heartbeat, he replied hesitantly, "Hello?"

A deep, throaty chuckle seemed to echo all across the canopy of trees, a pleasant sound, but not very becoming of his nerves. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. You just looked so excited, I got a little curious."

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. "I...should've realized that nagas were intelligent enough to understand human speech." Stanford cleared his throat, the thrill at the thought of another research subject spurring him on. "After all, if I'm getting my facts straight, your top halves are-"

Even if he had hypothesized it, he was not at all prepared for the sight that awaiting him. Slowing winding down from the thick branches was the top half of the naga; human in shape, and far more handsome than he could've imagined. Barrel chested with long chestnut hair, soulful brown eyes twinkling with mischief, and a long nose that only seemed to complete his features all the better. The naga's mouth curled into a playful smirk at Stanford's beguiled expression.

"Impressed? Understandable. Not every day you run into someone like me, am I right?" He twisted his upper half upside down so that his long hair hung down in a wave of brown, barely tickling the grass beneath him.

Stanford regained just enough sense to formulate a response. "Why, er, no, certainly not...hardly ever!" His excitement renewed, he clicked his pen and resumed reaching for some paper. "You must tell me everything about you!" His grin was all teeth.

"Well, first thing's first, how about an introduction?" The naga said with no small amount of amusement. "My name's Kenneth. Call me Kenny."

"Ah, yes, of course." Stanford shook his head and held out a six fingered hand. "Stanford Pines. Resident Researcher of Gravity Falls Phenomena. Pleasure to meet you, Kenny." Much to his delight, the Naga extended the red tip of his tail to shake with. "So fascinating! Your girth alone would take a whole page to describe! But more about that later; I must know all about your culture!" He set his pen to paper, waiting with baited breath and still beaming.

Kenny returned the smile gleefully. "Well, I'm partial to smooth jazz, but I can't say no to samba. Oh, and don't get me started on-" The naga's rambles were cut short by Stanford's throat clearing.

"Um, as stimulating as that is, I was hoping to do my research on your species as a whole."

Kenny quirked an eyebrow. "Gonna need to clear me up on that."

Stanford nodded patiently. "Well, it could be things like, what your diet consists of. Is English the most common language among your kind? Wouldn't a jungle be more befitting for a body such as yours? What natural abilities do you harbor, if any? How did-"

"Ep, ep, ep!" Kenny, to Stanford's slight indignation, placed a finger to his lips, interrupting his little question vomit. "I think it'd be better to answer one at a ti-" The naga's eyes seemed to glint for a moment. "What was that last question?"

Stanford pushed the finger off his lips to answer, "Um, what natural abilities do you harbor?"

The glint returned, and the scientist knew that he'd seen a look like that many times before. Usually it was on his brother as he was hatching one of his harebrained schemes, one that would more than likely leave the two of them grounded, in body casts, or both.

Suddenly wary, Stanford stuttered, "Um, actually, perhaps you could tell me about your diet-"

"No, no, no! This is a question I know I can answer!" Kenny's voice took on a musical lilt, the sound of it somehow easing just a little of Stanford's reluctance. Besides, hadn't he wanted to study more creatures? This was a rare opportunity, and the naga had offered. Stanford could always put out any potential fire with the extinguisher he'd hidden in one of the nearby trap doors.

"Well, alright, what are your abilities?"

Kenny's smirk returned in full force, and Stanford suppressed the urge to cringe. He was doing this for science, he reminded himself. For science.

"Well, you see, Stanford...can I call you Ford?"

"Oh, uh, yes."

"Well, Ford, us nagas all have one very special ability in common." Kenny chuckled, the force of it rippling all across his coils winding around the branches. Stanford watched, mesmerized at the browns and tans that ebbed and flowed like an ocean of coils.

"Ah, ah, ah. Eyes over here." Kenny's tail tip gently turned Ford's eyes back to his, amusement coloring his tone.

Ford blinked himself out of his stupor. "Yes. Sorry. You were saying?"

"Weeell, nagas have a very useful, very fun ability we just love to use." Kenny sang.

Ford instinctively leaned closer, now more curious than nervous. "And that is?"

"This."

A ring of yellow gently emerged and flowed outward from the center of Kenny's eyes. Then came orange. Then green. Then blue. Back to yellow. Orange. Green. Blue. Yellow.

Ford gasped softly at the display. "Enchanting." He breathed. "How on earth are you doing...that with...with your...y-your eyes...?" Odd. It was getting a little hard to speak the longer he observed them. His brain would form thoughts, but the patterns would compel them to swirl away into a silvery mist. Some thoughts would reach his mouth, but his tongue was becoming heavy and useless, like he'd downed a whole bottle of red mulled wine.

Kenny smiled softly, nodding with satisfaction at the colors emerging in his volunteer's eyes. "Magic. Although I've been told by a friend that it's slightly more complicated than that. But what matters is, it feels nice, right?"

"Y-Yes...it does..." Stanford sighed his agreement, the hand holding his pen going slack at his side. It really was the most wonderful feeling, like any care or worry that had ever crossed his mind just didn't matter anymore. The weight of expectations and responsibilities lifted off his shoulders, and in their place was an intense feeling of relaxation and peace, welcoming him to their cozy little world of lovely colors and rippling coils.

Ford giggled curiously. "Wazzz...wh-what's...happening?" He should have been writing this down and asking more pressing questions, but his brain may as well have been cotton by this point. Everything felt soft and warm and good.

Kenny giggled back. "Jussst a taste of my abilities, like you wanted." He tilted his head. Ford's own head followed, glued to his eyes. "You're looking a little sleepy. How bout' a little nap?"

"Nnn...nap...?" Ford blinked sluggishly, the word sparking a flash of recognition to reignite his sleep addled brain."H-Hold on...jus' a..." It took a painful amount of effort and willpower, so much that his eyes watered, but Ford managed to tear his eyes away from the hypnotic spectacle, taking a moment to rub the drowsy out of them.

"I...what just..?" He was dazed and dizzy. But he knew just enough to figure that he had to keep his eyes covered.

Kenny blinked away his hypnosis, startled by the rare show of resistance from a subject. There were few who could resist when they were that far under, but Ford just made the very short list. Even so, he wasn't completely out of the park yet, if his sleepy ramblings were any indication.

"Aww, hey, what's wrong?" Kenny kept his voice gentle, but couldn't suppress some amusement either. "I thought you wanted to know all about the abilities of the nagas?" He tilted his head, feigning hurt.

"Of...of course I do, but..." Ford turned away from where he heard the voice, having enough sense to cover his eyes with his arms, but not enough to remember how close he was to Kenny's tree. "I...I need to be-OOF!" He smacked right into it, the shock enough to snap him out of the spell completely.

He shook the swirls and cobwebs from his head, gritting his teeth and focusing on the pain. "You..." He turned back to where he thought Kenny was, eyes shut tight and pointing accusingly. "You tried to hypnotize me!"

"Wrong way." The voice to his left snorted playfully.

Red in the face more from embarrassment than anger, Ford turned in the proper direction. "What do you intend to do, use me as some sort of thrall?! Easy slave labor?!"

Kenny clapped. "Ha! Much more original than any accusations of eating people! But no." Ford heard a rustling of leaves to his right, and he flinched backwards, into a mass of coils that propped around his shoulders like a friendly arm. "You asked me what nagas could do. I was just showing you the works."

Stanford stubbornly remained angry. "You could've just told me! Or I could've watched you do it on a gnome, or...I don't recall giving you consent to hypnotize me!"

Kenny held up his hands in a placating gesture(that Stanford could not see). "Easy there, Ford! You're saying you didn't like it?"

Ford sputtered indignantly. "I...that's besides the point! I'm doing this for science, not for a...a nap! Can you imagine how many hours of precious research time I'll lose if I sleep?!"

To his surprise, Kenny's voice took on the slightest bit of concern. "Um, when was the last time you slept?"

Once again caught off guard, Ford had to gather his thoughts and take a deep breath to answer calmly. "I can handle not sleeping for a few days. What I can't handle is how the world moves on with or without me. Every second of every minute of every hour, something is happening. Creatures to catalogue, reports to write, disputes to diverge! I'm going to change the world with this project! I'll sleep when I'm dead!" Ford had forgotten what calm was by the end of his tirade.

Still with that aggravating concern he'd often heard from his mother, brother, and Fiddleford, Kenny tutted and gave Ford's shoulders a little squeeze with his coils.

"That's no way to go, buddy. Everyone needs sleep. Even life changers like you."

"We're getting off subject." Ford gritted his teeth, trying to breathe evenly. "You showed your ability. Thank you. I'll write all about it in my next volume. Now leave me alone." Eyes still shut, Ford ducked under the coils and felt around for the paper he had dropped during his little spell. Kenny's tail curled around his right wrist, as though dejected by the lack of attention. The six fingered scientist yanked his hand away, cursing quietly when he dropped the pen it'd been holding. "I mean it, Kenny. I've had enough." He snapped.

"Oh, but you really haven't."

Maybe it was the cockiness with which the naga said it, but Ford couldn't withhold his curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, that I'd only just begun, and you'd only barely felt the full effects of a naga's powers. You resisted, and that just sent everything off kilter. Imagine how much info you could write about if you only knew what it's really like to be hypnotized by a real naga?" Kenny studied his own hands smugly, feigning nonchalance and hoping the anticipation didn't show on his face. He needed a new cuddle buddy after all.

Wait. Ford's eyes were still closed. What did Kenny have to worry about?

Ford crossed his arms, tapping a finger against his jacket. Kenny was just using promises of scientific discovery as a lure for another hapless victim, that's all this was.

Regardless, he did have to know something. "Why do you even want to hypnotize me, anyway? It can't just be because you think I need sleep." Ford huffed.

Kenny shrugged(Ford could STILL not see it). "I just wanted a cuddle. The fact that you need sleep is serendipitous."

Stanford had lost count of how many times this naga had had him completely flustered. "That's...that's why you...huh?"

"Of course! It's what I do. And no, it's not really a naga thing. It's just a Kenny thing." The naga laughed.

Ford found himself letting his guard down a little at the confession. "That's...really all there is to it?"

"Mm-hm!" Kenny nodded confidently. "Besides, is losing a few hours to the best sleep you'll ever have really that bad? Think of the discoveries you're missing out on!"

"W-Well, no, but...cuddle with you? I mean, that's just...uh..." Darn it, he was thinking of the discoveries! What could he be missing by resisting such power? Was sleep all that would happen? Could he dream under the effects of naga hypnosis? How long could a human like himself last before he gave in?

The questions were leaking through the dam of resistance in his brain. It wasn't long before they'd break free. Not only that, but...it's not like anyone would know about this. There was no one around this area but him and Kenny. Losing a bit of dignity for a few hours couldn't be too bad, could it?

Slowly, Ford allowed his crossed arms to leave his side. He knelt to the ground, feeling around for a good place to sit.

"I'll take that as a 'Go ahead'?" Kenny couldn't hide his excitement.

Hands patting a particularly soft mound of earth, Ford grunted and set himself into an upright sitting position, legs splayed. "Don't try anything stupid." He warned, determined to have as much control over this bizarre circumstance as he could.

"No problem at all." Kenny giggled. "Now, how 'bout you open your eyes, first."

Reluctantly, Ford slowly pried his eyes open, squinting against the light of mid-morning. Blinded, it took five seconds for his eyes to adjust the many colors of the day.

But then, he realized, it wasn't the day he was looking at. It was a now familiar sight of oranges and yellows and...he could barely keep track. They were going at a steady rate, but when he thought he could pick out one color, that one would fade into another, and another, and another...

Ford squinted, still stubbornly wanting to remain in control. Who said he couldn't monitor the scientific intonations in his head, after all? That way he could do research on the naga's hypnosis without losing any time to useless pastimes like sleeping.

The colors are reaching a familiar pattern. They ebb and flow like tides of the ocean. One disappears, only to appear just when you've forgotten it existed. Incredible. Dazzling. So very...focus! I hear something. A voice...a song...birds? No. Smoother. Kenny? Is it a lullaby? Trying to make it more challenging? Do your worst. I'm not...sleepy...at...all...Beautiful...So pretty...FOCUS!

Kenny watched, patiently awaiting Ford's lapse into sleep. One second his swirling eyes would droop, the next they would spring back up as he caught himself growing drowsy. Even when Kenny began to hum a gentle, lulling tune, Ford was putting up a good fight. But if the bags under his eyes told him anything, it was that he really needed a siesta.

Right. Time for a little coiling.

Noises of the forest are...fading...easier to focus on Kenny's voice...all that matters...wait. No. I was...I can't...sleep now...not yet...Focus on...ability...

Getting harder...to fight...melatonin trigger perhaps...so sleepy...yes, must be...mela...the stuff that...makes you...sleep...eyes make it...easy...to sleep...using...colors...lovely colors...

...?

Feeling...heavy...around...waist...

Indeed, a coil was just starting to inch its way around Ford's abdomen, squeezing in especially tense areas and loosening any aches and pains he had been feeling just seconds before. Around and around the tail went, carefully pinning his arms to his sides, just enough to restrain, not enough to alarm or hurt. The tip continued on upward, reaching over his chest, feeling his slow, steady heartbeat. When the tail reached his shoulders, Kenny used his impressive strength to gently tilt Ford backwards, lying him on the ground, and making sure his hypnotic eyes were always in view.

...Warm...Blanket...? No...coils...? So...sleepy...Why was...I...fighting...?

Kenny grinned over the helpless state Ford was in. His mouth hung open, his lids were periodically shutting and opening out of sync over his still swirling eyes, and his upper body was all wrapped up in his coziest coils. Still, even after all that effort, Ford looked like he need just one more little push. A nudge in the right direction.

Kenny slowly, slowly, slowly pulled him into the air, so that he hung suspended over the ground, legs dangling with the direction he swayed in. Another loop of coils around his body, and Stanford was covered neck to toe in the warm embrace of a naga hug.

...Being..held...so...wonderful...

Eyes lidded so low he could barely see Kenny's, Ford moaned softly at the sensations of his predicament. He couldn't remember why he had bothered fighting. Actually, he couldn't remember anything outside of his euphoric drowsiness and coil cocoon. Even then, Kenny noticed that his eyes hadn't closed just yet. Continuing his hummed lullaby, Kenny gave the coiled mass a little push, giving it a rocking effect.

...back...forth...back...forth...sleepy...so...sleepy...

I'm...

Falling...

F...a...l...l...i...n...g...

Gentle snores emerged from the cocoon, and Kenny sighed with satisfaction. "That wasn't so bad, was it now?" The tip of his tail closed Ford's mouth, where the snores turned into deep breathing. The coils gradually shifted from horizontal to vertical, so that his cheek was comfortably rested against his scaly bonds.

Kenny ran a hand through Ford's brown hair, smiling with his usual mischief. "You wouldn't mind sharing your results when you wake up, would you?"

---submitted by b120583

OOC: I love this! :'3 Always nice to see a character like Ford in a situation like this <3

#submission #ask-nagakenny #story #gravity falls #hypnosis #coils

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