#we have always felt sunlight in our veins

[interkellar]

When it's spring now and all the springtime blogs and forestcore pics and cottagecore lovelies start posting bright, sunlight composites of the earth. Yeah. That's the stuff.

#light academia #sunlight academia #we have always felt sunlight in our veins

[madwomansapologist]

forever in this twilight

Meet Kind!Druid!Tav | More TiefHusbands | AO3

synopsis: Peace is nothing but a concept for the unlucky tieflings refugees, a sweet dream they can never quite reach. Don't matter how much they run, fight, try: the world wasn't build for them. But somehow, in all this mess, you are the most steady thing on their lives.

warnings: zevlor, rolan x druid!tav. backgroung (arabella, kagha, alfira, volo, astarion). is it too obvious that one of my favorite books is "what we owe to each other"? that my life philosophy is "it's our duty as human beings to care for others"? my tav is a menace. she isn't even a durge. yes, she licked the dead spider. yes, she did it twice. she's just like that. is it too obvious i am the eldest daughter?

Elturel was left far behind, forever in their memories but never again able to reach their bodies, but its fires anticipated their every movements.

It made foes out of strangers, turned welcoming druids into a threatening force, transmuted safe paths until they were nothing but darkness and fear. The world turned its back against those who only asked for help, as if even the blood running through their veins was cursed.

If they were threatening, they could've understand it. If they were warriors, bandits using brute force to subdue and terrorize others. But that's so far away from the truth. There are kids. Cattle. Aspiring bards, studious wizards, naive lovers.

They have souls, goddsammit. Even when some assume they don't. They look different, are different. Does it matter? From where they are or who's blood started their lineage? Where it matters tieflings are just the same. They feel rage, happiness, pain. Have hunger, desires, needs. When a tiefling bleeds, isn't it just the same as any other being?

They shouldn't see you treating kids as kids, instead of beasts as some seemed to agree, and get impressed. Or be surprised that you would ever decide to help them on the way. Druids are supossed to understand that all living beings are just another facet of nature, yet they can only remind that you're the first in a long time to act like it.

It's maddening that you're one of the few exceptions on their path. They shouldn't feel lucky for you being nice. People are supossed to care for others. They are supossed to be nice just for the sake of it. Kindness was supossed to be a convention, not a surprise.

The world is supossed to be a lot of things, the reality is often disappointing.

It can be tiring, exhausting even, to always fight. Constantly surviving, never enjoying peace. Earning a place to exist, but never the happiness it should've bring. Zevlor won't stop trying, but he won't last forever.

He's tired. How long has it been since he started feeling like that? Gods knows it was way before Elturel fell. Leading his people, the last thing Zevlor could do was to stop. There's no one going to save them, so he better act.

Except, there was you.

Eating from the corners, you made a difference in their lifes. At the gates, protecting Arabella, saving Mirkon. You convinced Rolan to stay at camp, discovered Kagha's plans, inspired Alfira.

Your influence over their plans and fears felt too close to hope. Like that brief moment at dawn, when sunlight warms the world and yet stars keep on shining. That moment before the world start and cacophony become norm.

The way you talked like you knew they would make to Baldur's Gate, like they had no option but suceding. As if you already knew their fate.

You were everywhere. When Zevlor sees Umi running around, when Alfira writes another song, when he has time. He saw you in the repentance glowing in Kagha's eyes, on the attacks to the gates getting less usual, on his people.

Crossing Shadowlands, at the very first moment, Zevlor asked himself what you would do in his place. He followed you, even now that you were long gone. Until the moment he started to question if you were everywhere, or just on his eyes.

Were people always talking about you, or did he only paid attention when they did so?

Lost in the dark, your voice came to him. With his eyes closed, Zevlor allowed himself to wonder about the last good moment he had on his journey. His people celebrating, their heroes being salute, good wine on his cup. And you, beside Zevlor, shining on him.

"And did he," Zevlor gazed at Volo. That man didn't look like a doctor. Or someone sane enough to be allowed near sharp objects. "Got the tadpole out of you?"

"Nah. Just my eye." You took a sip from the bad wine. Astarion warned you about it. "It hurted like hell, but I must say that this new one he gave me is way better."

"You let a bard experiment with your eye?" Zevlor was still in shock about this. "A bard?"

You shrughed it off. "I got curious."

He never laughed so hard. His belly ached, his cheeks were about to fall apart, no air made to his lungs. What a wonderful thing you are. How could you made him forget about all the things going on and just laugh? A real, deep laugh.

A beacon surrounded by darkness, that's what you were.

Your presence was a antidote for some, and for others it was worse than poison. It was a reminder of what happened and what could've. A neon sign of their mistakes and regrets. Of what they could've be and what they should've.

Rolan hated that you continued to smile. That you said you were sorry when he treated you like shit. That you didn't fought him back. That you didn't tried to embarrass or humilliate him.

Or maybe he hated how you had hound dogs following you around all the time. The fact people seemed to enjoy your presence. Don't they see you were the reason why they're here? That you were the one trying to change everyone's mind? That his brothers might die and it is all your fault?

And there was also your talent to hate. The fact nature gave in to your commands. That you could control it, even when darkness seemed to want nothing but kill everyone there. That you were taught, properly.

Or how it would be so much easier if you didn't continue trying to look like someone good. If you didn't opposed the Absolute, if you haven't promised to find his siblings, if everyone else around him didn't seem to idolatred you.

Or maybe Rolan just hated that, doesn't matter how much he tried, he couldn't just hate you.

It wasn't really your fault. He knows that. Shadowland was here, and it would've affect his plans of running away faster just as easily.

But damn, he wants to hate you. It would be so much easier if he did. He wants to have something to direct his anger. Someone that he could see hurt. Someone to blame for the rest of his life.

If they die, if that ever happens, what will be of him? The death of parents is expected, a lover can be forgotten or replaced, even a child lost would hurt him less. Who could ever grown him new siblings? Who could ever replace his mirrors and opposites? They are one and the same.

Would he even be able to call himself a brother? Who lost a husband becomes a widow, who lost a parent becomes an orphan, but what do you call someone that lost a sibling?

Rolan acted as if you hadn't just sat beside him at the bar. Maybe that would make you go away. If you're denied of attention, you probably will look for someone willing to lick your boots to prove their gratitude.

Of course he was wrong.

He just didn't expect to you to not say a single thing. You didn't even looked at him. You just stayed there, drinking something that smelled horribly, until the bar closed. When it did it, you headed back to camp.

And you kept on doing this. You sat there with a drink your hands. Rolan kept on being quiet, only moving to get something else to fill his cup. Days passed, and no words were exchanged between you both.

He was the first to break the untold law shared by you. "What are trying to do, oh hero?"

You finished your beer, then looked at him. Sarcarm, wow.

"Why?" He tried again, this time less inquiring. If it was even possible.

"You look lonely," you answered. "And I need silence."

Rolan tried to think of something else to say, but no words made to his mind. "Why?"

It took you another glass to answer him. "I don't think I will make it out of here. This place is... hungry. I feel like being a bug inside a monster's belly. Nothing I do is enough."

Rolan reached for a drink on the higher shelf. Even its bottle looked like it would be enough to kill someone of drunkenness. He filled your empty glass. "Don't be stupid."

Damned be you. Now Rolan needs to find someone else to hate.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

BALDUR’SGATE3TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#madwomansapologist #kind!druid!tav #oc: liliana wilde #bg3 zevlor #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #zevlor x tav #zevlor x reader #zevlor #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x tav #rolan bg3 #rolan x reader #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 x you #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 7

Summary: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 7: new revelation

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I can't find him!" A woman burst through the doors. Her boots were barely on and she wore no jacket.

"Find who?" Althea asked, one wolf ear flicking at the sudden noise.

"Rodney!" She ran over to us and spoke directly to the healer. "We-we were arguing and he ran out but I thought he would come back."

"How long has he been out?"

The woman was hesitant, eyes jumping between all of us. Althea had to prompt her again, pressing that we needed to know as soon as possible.

"Since...since this afternoon."

Althea and I locked eyes. The sun was about to set which meant the boy had been out for hours in the freezing cold. "Which way did he go?" she asked.

The woman was in tears now, guilt probably pulling her heart in two. She shook her head in her hands as an answer. She had no idea.

"Where do we start?" Althea looked to me. I almost wanted to ask 'why would I know?' but I did in fact know. I had been on this land for two years now and ran or explored most of it.

"Either the shore or the forest," I answered.

"We don't have any winter clothes, though," Vivian warned. She was right. We had yet to make winter clothes for everyone since they only moved in the cold when going between warm buildings. Someone going out could get frostbite themselves before they found the boy.

I thought for a moment before an idea came to mind. "Find Husker. His magic lets him keep himself warm and he can fly along the shore."

"What about the forest?" Althea asked.

"I'll go. I can also keep myself warm and can move fast as a dragon."

"As a what?" Vilcin popped their head out from behind Vivian. I noticed by the looks on their faces that I had yet to let my friends know of my abilities. They mostly seemed surprised but I worried if there was a hint of anger at keeping a secret from them.

"I'll be back." I turned swiftly on my heels and out into the cold. The wind caught me off guard but I pushed the cold away and replaced it with warmth. I took a few steps in the shallow snow, some Humans having shoveled for easier walking, and jumped forward. My claws enlarged and it took a second jump for my whole Dragon form to come out.

I moved swiftly out of the haven and into the forest. It was much easier to maneuver through the forest with four feet. My tail whipped behind me and I felt a rush of adrenaline run through my veins. I loved running like this. I felt so free and natural, like I belonged doing exactly this.

A presence came to my mind and I instantly recognized it as Alastor. He seemed to wrap around my mind but not quite pass through my shields. I slowed to a trot and looked around for his stark red coat against the white snow, but he was nowhere to be found. Was he close?

I shook my head and picked up my pace back to a run. I had only so much time before I lost the sunlight. It was taking a lot of magic to keep my Dragon form, keep myself warm, and move as quickly as I could through the forest.

The sun was moving faster than me, though, and the forest became next to impossible to run through. I was forced into another trot to avoid running face first into a tree.

"You lack imagination." Alastor's voice echoed in my head. He was always saying those exact words. How could I use my imagination when my entire world has been grounded in reality and the limits of the physical body? I could only do so much.

I came to a stop and stomped my front foot. I wasn't going to return without this boy, dead or alive. I could manage to find him, assuming he even came into the forest to begin with and not the shore.

I took a deep breath to let out a sigh but stopped. I quickly let out the breath and took another huge one through my nose alone. I could smell something. It wasn't natural, nothing like wood or snow. It was something else—someone—else.

Bringing more magic energy to my head, I started taking short, deep breaths. I padded through the cold snow keeping my head close to the ground. The boy was young so he was shorter. If only it was light enough then I could see footprints.

I tried brightening the dark shadows, reverse shadow work, and watched everything brighten. I picked up the pace as I followed the boy's trail. He was close. The smell was getting stronger and the snow wasn't smooth - he had come this way.

Then I spotted him. He was laying on his side curled up against a tree. I sprinted over and slid to a stop. He had dug himself a little burrow in the snow but it did him nothing. His body was barely moving and his fingers were already purple.

I lifted his cold body into my arms and took flight. I kept the cold away and gradually pushed warmth into him. He wasn't dead but he was awfully close. I flew as fast as I could back to the haven and found Althea in the grand hall. She rushed him over to her hut, wrapped him in blankets, and immediately started attempting to heal him. The mother was hovering but fortunately Vivian convinced her to sit to the side with her.

"What about his hands?" I asked nervously, touching the poor boy's black tipped fingers under the blanket.

"Healing speeds up the process, it can't undo anything," Althea explained. She was bringing color back to his skin.

Surely that can't be right.

I pulled his arm out of the blanket and gently ran my fingers across his own. The mother was sobbing at this point and mumbling her guilts to our teacher.

I looked down to the boy's fingers. I remembered Lucifer, King of Hell, saying that magic was ever expanding and not constrained to the categories already set in place. Vox was obviously a new improvement to their type of magic. Surely I could do the same? Alastor himself said I had a lot of power.

Carefully and slowly, I imagined the black skin crawling away from my own hand and fading into the tips of his fingers. I was shocked to find it actually working when I opened my eyes. A surge of happiness filled me as I continued my work until the black had disappeared entirely. I watched one of his fingers twitch.

I did it!

Alastor's presence surged through my shields and his hand suddenly gripped my wrist, wrenching it up so quickly and painfully that I was spun around to face him. His eyes were narrow and I could see his black gums on his terrifying snarl. He was angry.

"How did you do that?" he demanded. My fingers were feeling funny from the death grip he had on my wrist. I could feel him searching my memories and I tried to pull my hand free to break the connection.

"Let go of me, Alastor." I met his sharp, cat-like eyes with equal anger. He was violating the peace we had managed to build these past few weeks. He was reverting back to his self that I first met.

I was pulled into the shadows and transported into the library. I stumbled back into the wall from the motion and Alastor chased me, slamming a hand on the wall beside my head and bringing his sharp teeth close to my face. "How. Did. You. Do that?" he demanded again.

"You don't get to treat me like this!" Still in my Demon form, I made myself a few inches taller and pulled my lips back in a snarl. It still felt much weaker compared to his yellow one but I wasn't about to drop the challenge.

"Answer me," he ignored my response, "how? You shouldn't have been able to do that."

"Well I did. You're the one who keeps telling me I lack imagination but when I use it you get mad at me."

"I want to know how. Explain it to every detail."

"Why are you so upset about this? Tell me that first."

"This isn't a negotiation, darling~" the name was anything but sweet, sending a chill down my spine that I repressed.

"You don't get to control me. We've been over this time and time again. You. Cannot. Control me!" I went to shove him away but he grabbed both hands at the last second. He moved them barely to the side and my momentum took me into him. He took advantage of my loss of balance, holding my hands far enough past his shoulders that I was leaning on his chest and craning my neck back away from his teeth. His breath smelled horrible.

Without warning, he invaded my mind and went through my memories. I brought my back foot up and shoved against his leg. His tentacles came up to keep me in place, his eyes seeing through me as he fished for his answer. I did the next best thing and brought my forehead to his teeth.

His ears pinned back, something I didn't know he could do, and jerked his head away. The tentacles reached up to my shoulders to hold me down further. So I went the magic route.

I closed my eyes and followed the connection, reaching into his mind this time. I barely got in when he withdrew quickly from my mind to shove me out of his.

"I told you-"

"Then don't search through mine!" I let Alcine, my shadow, free from my form and she towered on the wall behind me. She morphed into the dragon and attacked Alastor's shadow. She wrapped around him like a snake and held his face in her claws, ready to snap his neck.

Alastor's eyes widened at the loss of his shadow. They then jumped back to me, a smirk pulling at my lips. It's only been two years but I was already giving him a run for his money. Something in me had unlocked tonight and he was furious about it.

His tentacles suddenly disappeared and he shoved me against the wall by my neck. He leaned down close to my ear as my throat squeezed shut. "You have been gifted by the force of the universe that our fates our tied."

I put my weight on his arm and looked up at him through half lidded eyes. I put both feet against his leg but without oxygen I was useless. I tried using magic to fill my lungs but I felt him block me. My anger boiled from being unable to do anything.

He suddenly let go and I fell on my tailbone, letting out a strangled gasp and high pitched noise. "No matter," he said, his cane appearing in his hand so he could lean over me, "I found my answer. For the time being, you are not to tell a soul what you did. It could mean worse things for both of us."

I watched him disappear into his shadows to who knows where. I retracted my horns so I could slam my head into the wall and punch the floor. I let out a deep yell and looked at Alcine on the wall. She had turned back into her elegant long hat outfit.

I pulled my legs up and wrapped my arms around them. He was always going to beat me. Two years felt like awhile but to him it was milliseconds. It would take me so long before I could match him on skill level. Why couldn't he just be normal? Why did he have to push and invade my boundaries?

I glared up into the dark library, my Demon side fully out. This meant I would have to go about this a different way.

****

"Since when do you willingly want to speak with me?" Lucifer Morningstar asked, closing the door behind the Radio Demon. Alastor spun to face the short king and placed his hands atop his own—better—cane.

"You have information only you would know. I came to retrieve it."

"Oh? And why would I give it to you?"

"I think you'd find it rather interesting what I'm about to tell you." He cocked his head to the side.

"And what is that?"

Alastor took a few steps to close the distance. "My soulmate healed completely frostbitten fingers."

"Why is that so interesting?" Lucifer kept his arms crossed. Alastor's eye twitched at the king's oblivion. He remained silent, waiting for him to figure it out himself. Indeed he did because his eyes widened and his arms dropped to his sides.

"She healed...that's not how Demon magic works," Lucifer said slowly.

"Precisely," the word rolled off Alastor's tongue. "She healed it. Who else wields such magic?"

"Well...that would be me, Lilith, and Charlie. And any and all Angels who—" It clicked. "She's...you think she's a..."

"A fallen Angel," Alastor finished for him. This man's mind worked so slow yet he was running all of Hell.

Lucifer started to laugh. Alastor watched, completely unamused by the behavior. Why was this so funny? This meant the Angels were losing more of them and allowing them to fall to the surface instead of Hell.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Lucifer wiped a tear from his eyes. "It's just...I find it hilarious that you, the Radio Demon, are soul bound to a fallen Angel."

"Why is that? She must've done something to earn such a banishment."

That made Lucifer go quiet. He put a hand under his arm and another under his chin to think. "Have you not seen her memories? Or has she been making sure you can't be twenty yards from her?" He smirked, knowing full well from Charlie what the status of their relationship was like.

"I have. She has no memories of Heaven, though. Hence why I thought a fallen Angel himself would certainly have more information." Alastor was trying to threaten Lucifer with a lack of knowledge, hoping he'd try to prove himself and give up the information willingly.

Lucifer didn't find it amusing, mostly hurtful, but he played the part. "Then she must be a child of a fallen Angel. It would explain why I didn't see a halo when I first met her."

"Excuse me?" Alastor tapped his fingers on his cane.

Lucifer ran his black hand over his smooth hair then pointed an inch above it. "Fallen angels have a faint outline of their halo above their head only I can see."

"She did not have one?"

"No," he shook his head, "but I can imagine she would have some Angelic magic if one of her parents were one."

"Outstanding."

Lucifer watched Alastor's expression intensely. "Why is this so important? What do you intend to do to her?"

"That is for me to know." He held his cane and arms behind his back as he smiled down at the King of Hell.

"I feel real bad for your soulmate." Lucifer's tone was somber as he crossed his arms again.

"You will envy us with time. Ta ta for now." Alastor slipped into the shadows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

I'm back on a roll! Time for feelings!!!

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #soulmate au #soulmates #hazbin husk #reqs open #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer

[barcaluvv]

But I wanted it to be you 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑖 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ʳᵉᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵛᵒᵗᵉ! ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ :)

You and Gavi been friends for a while, or so you thought, even though you've been in love with him for two years, in love with his walk, his beautiful eyes that change color in the sunlight, they change like my behavior when he's around, but actually no one knew that , just like no one knew how to get your attention like he did. Until one noght, when everything changed. It was an evening game, and you, as an employee of this club, had no idea that Xavi would put him on the bench, on the bench next to you. You thought to yourself that you would even pretend to be this bench for free just to be in his presence. His presence felt like a new start, even though you just glanced at him a few times and when he needed water you would bring him the best one you had. He would always compliment your hard work, it's like he did that on purpose. Zoning out, thinking about him,staring into his soul looking straight into his eyes, "Am I that interesting to you huh?" he leans closer leaving you with a smirk on his face. You couldn't get the words out of your mouth, before you said anything he went to the dressing room, you heard Hector who was there the whole time, laughing loudly. You were so pissed but you kept on with the night. After the game all the players left the locker room but gavi he didn't, oh no, when you tried to leave you noticed something i s off putting your hand on the metal doorknob, you were sure that all the doors were locked, the lights were off and on the locker it said, enjoy the night i hope u get enough of eachother, thats what you get when you can't focus on the game gavi" Hector oh god i knew it. I tore the paper quickly before gavi could even see it. At the end of the night, you were sitting alone, on the bench, covered with a big blanket, trying not to panick. When he noticed that you had a seizure, he came closer to you and said "Hey, it's okay, don't be afraid" he pat your hair. Your body shivered, it felt like a bump of water was splashing down your head, he removed your hands out of your face, e was wiping the tears from your red cheeks. You looked up at him, feeling your heartbeat getting more intense, for each breath you inhale, and calmer as you exhale. Saying the sentence you have never imagined you would ever say, especially to Pablo, twirling your fingers from the cold locker you were already leaning on, the words came out. "I love you, I have loved you since the day we met, since our eyes accomplished the contact that I've been craving for to happen, I know I sound dumb and you probably don't like me but I can't hold it in me anymore and I hope you understand that. Even if the distance between your heart and mine is seventeen inches yet somehow, the sun feels closer to me in this moment than you do. You never knew my birthday, you never asked me about my favourite colour, I don't even think you know any small details about me or the things I enjoyed doing. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 was long at that age I couldn't leave, and I will wait for you, no matter what. He pulled you into a hug, he kissed your hand aggressively, whispering "I love you too", you felt his lips talking on your shoulder. Feeling our veins compared next to eachother, as we both fall asleep with our hands crossed around eachothers matching jerseys.

#fc barcelona #barca #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi fluff #hector fort #bellingham x reader #pedri x reader #gavi x yn

[intjgodcomplex]

The hunting of Beyond birthday

~Mello's point of vue~

The sun was supposed to start rising anytime now, but i couldn't tell if it did because of the grim location of our so called apartment. Not that it would've changed anything if the sunlight falled inside the room, having spent my childhood in the grimly orphanage, Wammy's house, cold and godless nights live in my bones.

I stretched my arms above my head, the bright white light of the old computer illuminating the dark room. I had finished writing it, turning one of my rare conversation with L into a novel. It felt good to know that my existence left a trace, even if it will just be a file on a computer that was on the verge of falling apart. Well, perhaps not the only trace if you could count the ashes of all the essays and exams i had burned because of always lacking one mark to achieve perfection. But life found it's way to remain unfair, all while dangling perfection at fingertips out of my reach.

I couldn't hear the usual beeping sound of matt's gameboy, he was asleep on the couch behind me. He was wearing his usual red sweater and jeans, neither of us bothering to change from our rather uncomfortable clothes.

I sighted and got up, walking through the corridor illuminated by a couple strands of light from the computer. I intuitionaly stopped mid way, goosebumps breaking out of my skin when i felt a presence behind me. When i was sure from the emptiness of the corridor, i went into the bathroom and turned the bright while light on, dust particles could be seen around the lamp.

When i looked into the mirror, my tired reflection stared back at me. For a brief second, i saw younger me in the mirror. We shared the same tiredness of staying up late to achieve the perfect essay, perfect novel, perfect genius, perfect misfortunate orphan...

Then all of a sudden, as i went to turn on the faucet, my usual brown eyes went red as if they were made from glass and you could see the blood underneath.

I stumbled back against the counter, accidentally slashing my hand on the razor, the blood escaping my veins onto the white floor. A loud bang came from my and Matt's room, grabbing the cut to stop the bleeding, i ran back to the room to check on Matt but he wasn't on the couch sleeping like he was. The sound of cabinets slapping came from the small kitchen attached to the living room.

Feeling my fear go away and get replaced by anger, i went to the living room, turning on the tacky white light.

"Matt what the-" As i was going to start my angry rant, something felt off.

Matt didn't turn to look at me. He stopped opening and slamming the cabinets, he was just staring in front of him.

"Hello mello" It wasn't Matt's voice that came out of Matt's mouth. It sounded sinisterly entertained.

I stumbled slightly backwards, my eyes widening when Matt turned. He looked like it wasn't him who was moving his own limbs, like a puppet on a string without a mind of it's own. It was just his eyes that were different, they were... red.

"...Matt?" I grabbed onto the counter.

"That's a nice little book you wrote about me," The unsual voice said while Matt was standing right in front of me.

It took a few seconds for me to find my voice, "Beyond- that's impossible!" The dots connected in my heads, i felt the need to vomit.

"You should be quite familiar with the impossible by now," Beyond's voice jumped between the walls of the house and the walls of my brain. "Notebooks that kills, gods of deaths... I mean how impossible is it for someone to work so hard yet still die like a nobody."

I gritted my teeth, "Leave Matt alone!" I wanted to grab a weapon, but i knew that it would just result in hurting Matt.

"You know it won't make much of a difference if i killed him now," Matt's body grabbed a knife like a puppet on strings. "You both don't have a lot of time left."

I felt my heart sink to my stomach at his words. Beyond must have noticed that, even though i had mastered controlling my facial expressions, and his sinister laugh echoed through the walls.

"That really surprised you" He said between his laughter, "You failed everything in your life, did you really think you're going to win this time, that life will be merciful and let you taste victory one time before you rot?"

I couldn't find anything to say. I knew he was right. This my curse, i will always fail. I will get up and try again, and i will still fail. If i'm good i'm not great, and if i'm great i'm not perfect.

This will just be my last time failing.

I took a few steps back when Matt's body approached, not afraid of him hurting me, but rather of me hurting him by trying to defend myself.

But he didn't attack me, instead, he dipped his finger into the drops of blood on the counter that dripped from my wound.

I watched in horror as he started to trace number by number, i knew what those numbers were and i wanted to look away and not read them but it was too late to look away.

It's my date of death, my final day alive, the 27th January, two weeks from now.

"A little present from me." Beyond's entertained voice said, "You too should make the most of it till then, before you die like dogs, like nobodies."

The house went silent and so did my head as a feeling of dread washed over me.

Matt's body fell on the floor, and before i jumped to help him, i wiped the date away, not wanting him to see it.

The fear never left me as i carried Matt's passed out body to our room. I felt an unexplainable guilt as i placed him on the bed, the thought that i dragged him with me to our deaths.

"I'm sorry Matt."

#angst #death note #light yagami #l lawliet #nate river #near #mihael keehl #misa amane #mello #aesthetic #l #fanfictions #death note shitpost #death note fandom #mello and matt #mail jeevas #damage #beyond birthday #bb #beyond birthday is a little shit #and quirky #death note headcanons #character death

[berrysphase]

tagged by @lazaefair and @astrabear. Thank you! I have been absolutely steamrollered by work recently, and it is nice to know that people still remember I occasionally write fic.

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll roughly to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness (The Old Guard, Joe/Nicky, Quynh, Andy)

"You didn't like the chestnuts," Nicolò murmured later. He was solid and warm against Yusuf, and their blankets were cozy, and Yusuf was starting to feel less grouchy about the lurking prospect of winter.

In some coming wind (The Old Guard, Joe/Nicky)

(I don't know why but this one has always been so hard to pick lines from. they all look flat to me when taken out. idk. this is from pretty close to halfway through chapter two)

"Sawda," Nicolò said, with the kind of relentless gentleness it was hard to turn aside, and Yusuf said, "We spent six weeks on the road because you asked for help. Don't tell us we cannot help you now."

cardinality (The Old Guard, ensemble gen)

"It's how I do, anyway," Josef said, bright eyes very sincere in the fading light. "Life by life, how else would you make the measure of man?"

How else? How else -- Sebastien knew plenty of safe, everyday ways to measure men. His -- he didn't know what to call them, his comrades in arms, he supposed -- they did not do too badly for dinner companions, now that they weren't awkwardly shifting around in their chairs and avoiding his wife's eyes.

A friend indeed (Silmarillion, Fingon/Maedhros)

"Oh -- politics!" Findekáno said, frustrated and dismayed. It was an unexpected sting, that Maitimo still felt the need to walk so carefully around their grandfather with him. "I came to you as a friend, I absolve you of politics."

Where there's smoke (The Old Guard meets Cadfael)

Startled, Cadfael glanced up, and was taken aback by the sheer fury in Nicolò's face.

"Ah," said Cadfael, and shifted Wadih so that his full weight fell onto Nicolò.

Across so wide a sea (Silmarillion, Finrod & Galadriel)

It was a perilous vision and very fair, and it had pulled at him, as if Artanis had caught his own breath up in it; and he did not know whether this was part of her art, or because he too had dreamt, from time to time, of greater glories than what might come to him in gentle summer days. But those were dreams, and he had never once thought of leaving.

A story for twilight (Silmarillion, Maedhros & Finarfin)

"Since we find," he was saying, "that this is the only way we can give our swords to their cause, which yet was first our own."

Fimbulwinter (Der Ring Das Nibelungen, Sieglinde)

"Traveller, I have not met your like," said the giantess. "You are dead, but not newly; you are mortal, but you stink of the gods."

"I had not thought," Sieglinde said, "that your mistress was choosy."

"It is true: death, fast or slow, is remorseless, and gods fall even as mortals do. Yet those whom the gods love seldom come up this road. State your name and business, or linger until you can."

The veins of a leaf (Les Mis, Grantaire & Combeferre, very very AU)

Sunlight woke her. She made a noise and rolled away, and sat up abruptly when she remembered it was not her bed. Sun streamed in through the open window, sun and with it the scent of grass, and the noisy morning argument of birds asserting their territory to the far corners of the world. Hyeon-su had already gone, and the duvet on his side of the bed was pulled neatly up.

A previous near-miss with history (Les Mis, Marius & Courfeyrac)

"Mmm," said Marius, with muddy, uncharitable reluctance. Prouvaire carelessly threw out in conversation the kind of lines that Marius had to stay up late at night to assemble painstakingly from pieces, and glowed with purpose besides; talking to him left Marius feeling wan and clumsy. Marius touched the coins in his pocket again, thinking, this, this is mine, I earned this with the fruit of my own thought; and said, impulsively, "But, Bossuet, Courfeyrac, forgive me, I couldn't help overhearing -- were you in need of money?"

As usual I am doing memes late and am not sure who would like to be tagged who hasn't been: here are some tags, if you want to play @robertawickham @circumference-pie @artificialities @undercat-overdog @clothonono

#i feel like my fic for hugo and tolkien was better written but #man #i also spend a lot more time second-guessing myself when writing in those fandoms #also lbh i used to have a lot more spare time #memeage

[autumnala]

The dog day are over (so you better run)

summary: As Bella prepares for her wedding, she tries desperately to outrun the memory of Jake and that pesky thing tying them inextricably together.

a/n: Inspired by, and composed to the song Dog Days Are Over by Florence + the Machine (linked in case anyone wants to listen while they read, idk)

(Not usually one to post fanfic here. But this is where the Jake and Bella brain worm truly took me over again, so it seems only appropriate. Much love to all the intrepid Jake and Bells shippers out there. )

———

Jacob where have you run off to?

“What do you think of this one? Bella? Bella?”

I pulled my eyes back to Alice guiltily. She was holding up a mass of pale blue and greens and whites.

“Um flowers?”

“For the bouquet?” Alice laughs and it tinkled, lifting my heart like a hymnal.

“Um… I always liked…” Dark green like the forest, sage like the succulents in Arizona, red like the dirt there, red like his fur. Yellow as the sun…

“These will go so well with the wedding colors. You’ve always looked so great in blue.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

I’m focusing everything I can on the wedding now.

I never even wanted a wedding. But it’s what I have to focus on.

In that beautiful meadow, that perfect dream, it felt so right. I would bind myself in every way possible to Edward, because there was nothing else I could do. Our love story is fate, it’s inescapable. It’s destiny.

But now I see Jacob everywhere.

He’s running alongside my old truck, which Edward’s going to replace any day now, as I trundle along the highway.

His long, beautiful hair is disappearing around every corner just at the edge of my sight.

I’m so tired of telling you good-bye.

I love him too much - even if it wasn’t enough.

I let that string tying our two hearts together pull too tight. And now every night I’m running after him in my dreams. I wake up tired.

I can’t hold onto that though. That echoing of emotion and sense of being kindred. I just can’t let it go either. The thought of that thread breaking terrifies me in a way I cannot quite understand.

But Edward is everything. He’s the gravitational force of my life. He’s in my veins and I need him. If nothing else, I’ve learned that, haven’t I?

He’s taken me into his world, his fairytale forever.

How could I ever be sufficiently grateful for the miracle of him choosing me?

It’s all over, with Jacob, with the wolves, with walks on that grey beach, and that shabby- warm house by the sea.

Sometimes, when I’m running in my dreams, I run straight into the sea.

And Edward’s beautiful face is still in front of me, and I’m freezing and sinking.

But I remember now, too. It has to be more than a dream, because I can feel the rightness of it in my bones. Like sunlight.

Jacob’s warm hand, grasping mine. Pulling me upwards into the light. Pushing air back into my lungs.

As easy as breathing.

The dress Alice picks for me is the whitest white I’ve ever seen. Simple, which I like. Clean lines, form fitting. Fashionable, I assume. It doesn’t look like something I would choose at all. But it looks like a good dress for the kind of person Edward should marry.

Edward doesn’t come along with us on the wedding errands, on Alice’s orders, of course. And because that’s the tradition. He wants the magic of this our (first) wedding. For me, of course. I’ll appreciate it later, I know.

Jacob would have gone dress shopping with you, a traitorous voice whispers to me while I’m flipping the idly through a magazine with a hundred glossy photos of wedding things that all blur together. He would have laughed at all the ruffles you hated and told you to get something comfortable. He’d know-

I turn a page sharply, glancing as each car passes by down the street. My cereal is turning to mush next to my magazine.

What am I looking for again?

Oh, right. Hair styles. Charlie hears me sigh and I can feel him looking at me for a long moment.

We had our longest argument ever when I told him I was getting married to Edward.

Now he doesn’t say anything, but I feel him watching me as I try to project happiness.

Edward is everything I want. He’s perfect.

Jacob is in the past.

Edward is kind and understanding. Only he hates my truck, and he’s baffled when I don’t want to listen to music, even his. He wishes I’d let him replace the truck, and all my shabby things with better ones. I should appreciate that.

I forgot that it was Jacob who always knew how I worked without me telling him. Who knew things I never told anyone. I never knew how that would feel (like coming home after a long day).

But Edward loves how I always surprise him, how he doesn’t know what I’m thinking. I’m a mystery to him. The only one in the whole world. A miracle. I’ve never been a miracle before. It seems important.

Will I still be a mystery when I’m not human anymore? If he heard my thoughts, would they live up to the me that he loves?

I’m so so happy, so ready to be perfected. Finally, Edward and I will be on equal footing.

He kisses me so chastely and so sweetly - like I might shatter. And I can feel that feeling, sinking into my bones. I feel fragile and delicate and quiet now.

I glance up quickly when I hear a boisterous laugh in the market, then glance to where Edward’s face is tilted, as he looks at me, just ever so slightly, his expression mild and tender. I can feel my face flushing and a thousand expressions battling on my face. He shakes his head lightly, and guilt flashes through me.

Not Jacob. Did he know I hoped it might be Jacob, just for a second?

How can I stop looking for him though?

He’s everywhere. Around every corner. Every growl of an engine.

He’s every sunrise.

But as long as I keep moving I can forget that he’s gone. I’m moving into the future. With Edward. My perfect forever.

And Jacob and that cozy, ramshackle garage, and warm sodas, and motorcycles, and jokes about getting old are in the past. They have to be.

I’ll run so far and so fast as a vampire that that cord will surely break.

It’s what I should want, of course.

But the thought fills me with dread.

Until your heart stops beating.

“Bella? Bella?” Alice’s voice trills, exasperated.

I realize I am running my finger slowly over the little carved wolf hanging from my wrist. Petting it.

When I open my eyes, light reflecting off the diamond heart blinds me for a second.

“Sorry,” I say. My finger hasn’t moved from the little wooden figure.

I look up and Alice looks concerned, confused, hopeful. She’s only trying to help. I wish I could forget, like her. Forget my human life, forget everything but the perfect, sparkling future.

Rosalie is looking at me too, with pity. I can’t hold her eyes.

I could never be sufficiently grateful to Edward for him choosing me. I could never choose him enough to make up for everything he went through for me.

For the miracle of snatching him back when it seemed hopeless.

Vampires don’t sleep, so soon I won’t have to worry about dreaming anyway.

I wake up gasping, again, and I know immediately that Edward is there.

But he’s not the one I am chasing after in my dreams.

Despite myself I think of the spring, when I told Jacob we could run away together.

Just the two of us, driving toward the sun.

I could have saved him, my Jacob.

One day he won’t be your Jacob anymore.

I can’t bear that thought; I just can’t.

“Bella,” Edward says, still the most beautiful voice in existence, a pleasant, intoxicating anesthetic. “Why are you crying?”

I didn’t notice I was, but it’s true. Soft round teardrops are dropping onto my bedspread.

“I don’t know,” I tell him, honestly. What else can I say?

He comes to my bedside and crouches down, pushing my sleep mussed hair back from my face.

His eyes look dark to me, in my dark room. Despite the darkness, up close he is so beautiful that it makes me feel like my heart will burst, like my brain is short circuiting. I should trust this. Look how he makes (almost) everything disappear.

“Don’t be scared, my love,” he murmurs to me. His hand ghosts across my hair, gentle as a breeze. I wish he would grab me hard enough that I could feel it. Maybe that would wring these feelings from my bones for good. I lean up to kiss his mouth, trying to pull the honeyed sweetness of him into me. He kisses me back, gently and full of love, and for a moment his hands clasp my shoulders more firmly, hard enough that I feel held together. But only for a moment before he is setting me carefully back, breathing just a little harder.

When he’s kissing me everything is clear, it all makes sense, this path I’ve set myself on. My blood rushes in my ears. But when he sets me away it feels like lead is trickling into my heart. Cold molten dragging me down.

And I’ll sink too fast to swim.

Some nights I think about how he isn’t going to come the next time I fall in the dark.

I think it quietly though, hoping Edward thinks I am asleep.

Why did I never know how to love him when he was here?

One night, when Edward is gone hunting, and I can’t quite bring myself to close the window, I hear it.

A howling wolf.

Have they been howling all this time and I just haven’t heard them?

I hold up my bracelet to look at it over my head. There’s barely any moonlight to glint off of the diamond heart and without that dazzling light I look at the little wolf, head tilted back, rough edges smoothed by the stroke of my fingers.

I can see Jacob carving him in my head. His large hands were always so careful and deft, whatever he was handling. It’s a beautiful little wolf. Not flawless and unchanging, but still perfect, even as I imagine how he’ll be worn smooth by the years, how he’ll eventually turn to dust.

I can’t say what I’m thinking next. I’m not thinking anything at all when I get out of bed, throwing on any clothes I can grab.

I look at my truck for a long moment. But no. If I take the truck everyone will know…know something, it will be a decision, so instead I turn the other way and walk into the woods.

There’s no way I can walk far enough.

But I can’t think about that; I can’t decide. I never could. All I have left is this instinct and this yearning I cannot name.

So I run.

I’m not a graceful runner, I’m not fast. But I run and I run and I don’t stop. Even when my chest aches, then screams.

Everytime I hear a wolf howling I turn and run toward the sound.

It’s so dark, with only the moon overhead, and the stars.

I run until I can’t anymore, until I fall, until I see the sun peaking over the edge of the hill ahead.

I smile at that line of sunrise.

My face is wet, with tears and sweat. Probably blood.

I feel like I’ve been scoured, weak and yet relieved as if I’ve emerged from a long fever.

A large shadow looms over me.

It’d be too perfect if it was him, but I laugh up at the sight anyway. It’s Leah and she looks like she wants to bite me. But all I can feel is happiness. Incandescent joy blooming deep in my chest while I lie there laughing weakly into her golden, furry, face.

I shrug at the wolf, what can I say?

I try to stand but collapse. My legs have run as far as they can.

Leah makes a wolfish grumbling sound and sits and watches me. I fall asleep while the sun is rising and don’t dream of anything. Who knows how long.

I can’t quite come fully awake, but I feel warm arms lifting me up. Familiar arms.

I lift my eyelids for the barest moment before the fall again, fluttering against my effort to lift them.

Jacob, backlit by the sun, is more beautiful than I remember. Maybe he always was.

Not like a dream or a vision. He looks like home.

I sigh, eyes still heavy and closed.

Jacob doesn’t say anything at all.

“There you are. I was looking for you, you know.” I tell him weakly.

He snorts.

“Do you know,” I try again, forcing my eyes open to look into his face. My eyes stream at the sight but I don’t blink to clear them. “If I was going to run away with anyone, I think it’d be you too, Jake.” I think about that, watching a stormy dawn break across his face. “Only, not right now. I don’t think I can run anymore right now. Where are we?”

His smile brightens and I feel my tired mouth struggle to tilt up in response. “We’re just across the treaty line. You were looking for me by running, by yourself, at night?”

“It seemed like the thing to do at the time.”

He chokes on a laugh. Or maybe a sob. His hands tighten and then loosen again.

“You’re sure? Really sure? Because dammit Bella, I can’t…”

I think, then, for the first time in hours I search the deepest parts of my mind and heart and everything for an answer.

Inside me, where it was all frantic movement and rushing and fever it is calm now. It’s quiet.

I lean over and kiss his chest, bare of course, and blazingly warm, directly over his heart. I feel like light is filling me up. Pouring into me through this cord nothing I did could ever sever, from his heart to mine. Golden and blazing.

Jacob grins at me then, really grins, and his eyes are shining just for me.

“Until my heart stops beating,” I tell him. He starts to frown but I’m smiling so hard at him it feels like my face will crack. I can see him understand what i’m trying to say. He told me so long ago, but now it’s not an end, not a plea, it’s a promise. A beginning. “Could be a long time. And maybe even longer than that?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah that sounds…it’s enough? You said…”

The sun can’t fight an eclipse he told me. But an eclipse can only hide the sun for so long. It’s the sun that remains in the end.

“It’s enough. More than enough.”

#jacob x bella #bella x jacob #team jacob #jake and bells #otp: as easy as breathing #this is a song fic for ‘dog days are over’ but more in the sense of vibes #inspired by the song #very loose plot with no eclipse/breaking dawn fact checking #fanfiction

[chartedsuns]

GOLGOTHA: Part 1 - The Psychic

He could feel the music through his skin and the alcohol running through his veins, but all Alec could focus on was him. Jake was talking but the chaos of the club was drowning him out. Alec let the walls of his mind blur, and reached out, “Sorry I can’t hear a damn thing, what did you say?”

Alec could feel Jake’ thoughts scamper to create a response, unused to telepathic communication. Using all his mental might he managed to convey the concept of piss. It would seem two way telepathic verbal communication was still a touch too difficult for Jake. “Piss. How eloquently put.” Alec gestured vaguely toward the corridor “I think the toilets are down that way and to the right.” Jake slid off the barstool onto his feet, “SEE YOU LATER ALEC-GATER”.  Pleased with his pun he wobbled his way toward the toilets.

Now Alec was left only to his own thoughts. He could hear the stern disapproving words of his tutor, “A Philosopher is above carnal delights such as these.” He momentarily panicked thinking it might have really been the voice of his tutor within his head, before swiftly deciding he didn’t care. In fact, he cared so little, he raised two fingers to the bartender to order another round for himself and Jake . He withdrew a small plastic device from his bag and began drunkenly fumbling with its unresponsive touch screen, trying desperately to pay the bartend. Before Alec could wrangle the device into cooperation Jake arrived back at the bar and sent the payment through his Membrane Implant.

Jake shouted over the music, “SO TOUGH BEING A PSYCHIC, CAN’T PAY FOR YOUR OWN DRINKS!” Alec chuckled and psychically responded, “Ah you discovered our secret scheme! Our brains reject our Membranes purely so we can get free drinks from cute boys.” 

“YOU THINK I’M CUTE?”

“Shut up Jake.” 

He did in fact think Jake was cute. So much so two hours and four drinks later Alec had Jake pinned against a wall two streets down from the bar. Another hour later they were in bed.

Silver sunlight rudely ended their sleep. Alec woke first, fumbling with his Membrane-Surrogate, trying to catch up on what had transpired in the eight hours he was asleep. As it would turn out quite a lot. He was gone before Jake awoke.

He sat in the office of Tableman Ulric of the College of Wills, his tutor and superior. Alec was tall, even for a moon-born man. Yet in front of his tutor he felt tiny and frightened. 

“Thank you for arriving on time, Philosopher Gater. I appreciate it can be an awkward affair when a breach of conduct is brought up. But it is always good to ‘nip it in the bud’ early so to speak.”

“You spied on me.” Alec spat, “You spied on me. How come when I dare suggest an alternate interpretation of the Moralist Code I am looked down upon, but when you openly break it you suffer no repercussions!”

“You would accuse a Tableman of disregarding The Code young Philosopher? Don’t you think you find yourself in enough trouble already?” Ulric paused and calmed himself, “No we did not ‘spy on you’ Alec, but your charge —”

“Arthur?”

“Yes. Mister Chainman did observe you and your - coupling - outside an establishment last night. He has requested you be assigned to a different post, a decision that I concur with. Having a relationship with a charge’s son is not only unprofessional but may also alter the council you provide him.”

“My coupling is none of Mister Chainman’s business, Sir Tableman. Jake and I have in fact been coupling for the last year, and I have yet to receive any complaint on my ever precious council. And besides, what is this sudden concern over my council; what council have I ever given to him? All I give to him is status, the bragging rights of having a Philosopher under his thumb.”

Tableman Ulric sighed “On that last point I will secede to you. It was a waste of a talented young Philosopher to be assigned to a technician of all people. As such you are to be reassigned —”

“REASSIGNED?”

“Yes, reassigned. And please, do me a kindness, and stop interrupting.” Alec shrunk down into his chair.

“You are hereby reassigned to the city of Golgotha upon the world of Throne. There you shall aid the leading Archon in investigating the recent disappearances of foundry workers. A position much more fit for a hot-blooded Philosopher such as yourself, wouldn’t you agree?”

“May I speak?”

“You may.”

“I am thankful for this new assignment —”

“But…”

“But. I can’t help but note that our great nation is engaged in active conflict against The Sword Stars, The Khanate of Flesh and the Numen Cooperatives. Why not send me to war, I promise you I could serve best as a war councillor . Not an advisor to some Archon ruling an ancient torn up world.”

“You don’t want to see war, boy. And besides, that ancient torn up world was once the capital of the old Dynasties and is presently the greatest industrial planet in the New Moralist Authority, hardly an unimportant post. Not to mention it is the planet our moon currently orbits - unless I am terribly mistaken - meaning you could visit your acquaintance, if you so wished.”

Alec gathered himself, “Thank you Tableman. I will gladly accept this charge, and would like to apologise for my behaviour today. It was unbecoming of a Philosopher.”

“Your apology is accepted. I too was young once.” Ulric chuckles, “Though I can scarcely remember it. Your charge awaits. Go to Golgotha and meet with its Archon. Report back what you find.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Alec’s shuttlecraft plunged into the atmosphere he felt trapped between the sky above and the city below. The skies were choked with pollution, staining the cancerous sunlight a sickly saffron. The city was little better, mostly consisting of dusty ruins of rusted steel and crumbling brick. This place looked old, and it was so very old. Yet in the centre of the detritus was a colossal facility of gleaming chrome, tendrils stretched out from it rooting into the remains of the city. This was The Foundry, the reason Alec had come all this way. The Hegemony built The Foundry to recycle the city to create a new world after the old collapsed. And when the Hegemony too wilted and died, his people, The Moralists, assumed control of the vast mega-factory. Looking down at The City of Aeons and the scars it bore, he wondered what they would leave behind.

The planet's ecosystem had long since perished, and the city was so overgrown as to become an urban wilderness. Populated by mindless scrapper drones eager to recycle the iron in your blood, and subterranean pirates that lurked in the now submerged tri-rail below. Yet the Foundry is vital to the Moralists, the beating heart of its economy. So a small population of survivalists tends to it, ensuring its production of starships, computer chips - and anything else the imagination can summon - remains uninterrupted. 

Yet Alec wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been interrupted. People were disappearing and The Foundry was under threat. But by who, and for what purpose? The shuttlecraft landed, Alec swept his anxieties aside and emerged into the streets.

Condensation clung to the rebreather strapped onto Alec’s face and his unpowered exoskeleton dug awkwardly into his ribs. He wore a hooded ivory dress and a tall corset that accentuated his lithe moon-born frame. Yet with all the paraphernalia he needed to inhabit the surface of Throne, and the tawny dirt that now clung to his dress, it felt as if all the pomp of his formal Philosopher attire had been somewhat undermined.

Alec had been assigned to the Archon of Highcross, the quasi-capital of this wild city and one of the only safe havens from the worst of the smog below; it was a far cry from his home. Highcross was situated atop a massive suspended monorail that in days past served The Foundry with a near endless supply of minerals from the Ferox Mountains, before they were disassembled. Now it serves as a skyborn refuge providing a rare pocket of safety. And in Golgotha safety was a rare commodity indeed.

Alec grew up on Scepter, without the burden of a planet's gravity, rendering him a foot or two taller than most Golgothans. Which was most helpful when navigating the meat-packed streets of Highcross. His dress stuck uncomfortably to his sweat slick skin, though mercifully his respirator saved him from the rather organic odour that wafted through the streets. 

As he jostled his way through the crowd he couldn’t help but notice the looks he got. Curious residents lurched over their balconies above him, their eyes tracking the strange foreigner, and sinister figures weaved through the crowd looking for a chance to pick his non-existent pockets.

Eventually the street he was navigating split as a row of thin buildings carved the path in two. At the frontmost of these buildings a semicircular terrace hung three stories above an enraptured crowd, from which a blue banner was hoisted, emblazoned with the symbol of a bear. Upon the terrace was a man, well put together compared to the local populace, but his sun-scarred skin and lack of respirator marked him as a local. His voice carried across the street through tinny speakers that dangled precariously from cables strung from rooftop to rooftop. Alec was entranced by his voice. Curious and eager to rest his legs; he locked his exoskeleton in place to serve as a makeshift chair, and listened.

“Every ideology born under a sun has come to this city, and every ideology has failed it. Five Dynasties ruled over us, and five left the city polluted and dying. Then came the Hegemony and their artificial rulers, Instead of lifting our city back up to its glory, they preyed upon our world like a vulture. Now the Moralists occupy our streets under the pretence of ‘protection’, but make no mistake, they are here for The Foundry and naught else. Our people - who work The Foundry for our occupiers - have been disappearing, vital machinery gone with them. Pirates from the Drowned City have gotten to the very core of The Foundry yet the Moralists stand back and watch as our people vanish one by one. Where is our supposed protection now?”

“Puzzling.” Alec responded in a psychically amplified voice, “then why have they sent me?” The crowd shifted attention, their trance was broken and all eyes were on him.

“So a Moralist wormed his way into our midst; a Philosopher if my eyes still work. Unlike you I can’t spy into peoples heads, so why don’t you tell us the purpose of your visit?”

Alec took a moment to bask in the attention before continuing, “I am Philosopher Gater of the College of Wills. Tableman Ulric himself sent me to investigate these disappearances and to aid your elected Archon. We abandon no one, including the kind people of Golgotha.”

The man chuckled to himself, “Oh, so we just have to put our lives in the hands of Philosophers from a college us small folk aren’t even allowed to see? The G.I.P have been stopped time and time again from taking arms against the enemy, despite our people being willing to die for the cause. Yet you Philosophers are bound by their oh so precious Code to not hurt their ‘fellow man’? Tell me little psychic, how are you going to stop the Drowned City from stealing, kidnapping, and murderin’ without giving them any bruises or bumps?”

“The first step is to speak and to hear them out —” The crowd didn’t react well to that. First it was shocked murmuring, then a few raised voices, until it eventually boiled into outraged shouting. Even the speakers broadcasting the man’s voice were drowned out by the crowd. Yet their anger was far more tangible for Alec. His mind was a submarine beneath a sea of fury, the compartments of his brain bursting under the pressure. He saw visions of a man, destitute after all he had was taken from him in a midnight raid. Another vision, this time of a woman who had been a slave in a city shrouded in shadowed water, serving wine to a despotic ruler. Finally a vision of a burning town within the lower depths of Golgotha, gunfire rattling through the streets, blood running into cracked concrete.

It was too much, far too much for Alec to bear. Bodies rammed into him and minds scorned him, he was an icon of the Moralists to rail against. He wanted to be anywhere else. Anywhere else. Anywhere. No, not anywhere, with Jake. He just wanted to listen to Jake ramble on about membranes, and computers, whatever he wanted. As long as he could feel his warmth next to him in bed.

He closed his eyes, hoping to withstand the storm, only to find it suddenly stop.

#sci-fi #worldbuilding #short story #storytelling #weekly #fiction #writing #queer

[primroseprime2019]

The Human Among the Elves- Ch.2: Different

The sun shined brightly in the sky. Birds flew through the air.

In a field, a brown and white horse leapt out onto the field with a sixteen year old girl in it's saddle.

She laughed as she gripped the reins. "Easy, Spark!" She smiled. Spark huffed and looked around.

She looked up as her sisters, Fildarae and Elisen rode on their horses.

"I win!" Pyria said with a smile. "Yeah, yeah," Elisen giggled, "you've always been the best at horseback since you were twelve, sis!"

"I hate this game!" Fildaerae groaned, throwing her head back with a pout. Elisen and Pyria both laughed.

"Let's head back," Pyria said with a smile.

Elisen and Fildaerae nodded before the three princesses rode their horses back to the castle grounds.

Pyria silently exhaled as she felt most of the other Elves look at her. She knew what they were thinking. It had been going on for almost all of her life.

She closed her eyes for a moment.

A twelve year old Pyria walked down the hallway. She was bored and her sisters were busy or taking naps.

Her mother was in a meeting. She walked into the throne room. It was empty.

She walked over to the chair and sat down in it.

She looked out towards the portrait of her mother, gripping the enchanted necklace around her neck. It was something that would help keep her protected and it would also give her elf ears.

But she couldn't get the uneasiness out of her mind. She knew she was different.

She stood out like a sore thumb and no one would mention it out loud- lest they get struck by a certain queen's sword- but Pyria also knew she wasn't really an Elf.

She was a human.

And humans were considered enemies to Elves. And Pyria never knew why.

The most confusing part to the queen's advisors and scholars was that Pyria had magic running through her veins. And Eliyen and Othorion were the only ones who knew how and they didn't want to tell her.

But she wouldn't be able to figure out for herself just yet. Not until she absolutely knew how.

"Pyria?"

She opened her eyes and looked at Vana. "You alright?" She asked.

"Yeah," she said, "I wanna do history lessons!"

Solana and Fildarae gigled. Vana chuckled as she ruffled Pyria's hair. "I'm sure Beldroth Wranzumin will have no trouble with teaching you the history of our kind," she said.

"His lessons are boring!" Delsanra huffed, throwing her head back with a bored groan. "Well Pyria likes them," Elisen chuckled, rolling her eyes at her sister.

Lythienne walked into the room. "Lythienne!" Pyria said happily and she ran over to the eldest daughter.

Lythienne smiled as she hugged her youngest sister and kissed her head. Lythienne was the firstborn daughter of Eliyen Carmenor and the one who was in line for the throne.

She was fiercely protective of her sisters. Especially Pyria.

"How were your horseback riding games?" She asked playfully. "I won again," Pyria replied with a giggle.

Elisen, Rania and Solana giggled. Fildarae pouted and huffed.

Lythienne chuckled, "Mother is taking us to an academy where the other Houses' children are going."

"Really?" Omylia said curiously. Malonne nodded, "we don't know why. She only said to get ready to go."

Solana nodded and the girls went upstairs to their bedrooms.

Pyria's room was decorated with a queen-sized bed that was by a window. There was a closet and a desk on the other side of the room. There was a crystal chandelier above the middle of the floor and it glowed whenever the moonlight or sunlight hit it.

There were a few stuffed animals on the dresser next to a small stack of books.

Pyria opened the closet and she took out a dress. She pursed her lips before she put it back and took out a simple uniform. Something scholars would wear.

She saw one wear a uniform like this.

She exhaled softly before she decided to put it on. Once she was done, she grabbed her satchel and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

She could hear her sisters chatting excitedly downstairs. 'They must've gotten ready too. That was quick,' she thought as she slowed to a stop.

She took a breath before she walked down the stairs. Eliyen looked at her and she blinked. Pyria smiled nervously, "i-is it okay?"

Kilyn squealed, "you look amazing, Pyria!" She hugged her tight, making her squeak.

"You look really good," Vana chuckled. Elisen smiled softly, "your sisters are right, dear. Now come on. We don't want to keep the others waiting."

The others nodded excitedly and hurried out to the carriages. Pyria looked up at Elisen and her mother chuckled softly. "When I was your age, I used to wear this uniform in public," she said.

"R-really?" Pyria said, astonished. Elisen giggled and nodded. "My father was aghast but my mother would always laugh with me." They both giggled and Elisen smiled softly as she reached up and caressed Pyria's face.

"No matter what, I will always love you," she said gently. Pyria blinked a few times before she smiled softly and she leaned into her mother's touch before she hugged her.

"I love you too, Mama," she said. Elisen kissed her forehead before the two walked out to the carriages.

Pyria stepped into the carriage. She was riding with Solana, Malonne and Delsanra this time. "How do you think the other princes and princesses are doing?" Solana asked.

"I'm not sure," Malonne chuckled, "especially after the incident with Prince Aubron."

Pyria fidgeted nervously and Solana gave their sister a glare. "We don't talk about that, Malonne," she said firmly.

"I'm just saying, the fool deserved it," Malonne shrugged. Pyria whimpered softly and she buried her face into Solana's shoulder.

"Now, now. Let's not dwell on the past," Delsanra sighed, "it's happened and we are going to try to forget about it."

She gave Malonne a light glare and the carriage ride was peaceful on the way to the Academy.

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#my ocs #fanfiction #elves #fantasy

[iwannawritelots]

Original work crossover fic :”3

Some context:

I’ve already assigned Solomon’s magic to someone in the actual story, but no magic is special to a single individual that bears it. Asmodeus’ magic is the same as their charm ability in game kinda (their magic would fall under “mind-altering magic” in my universe). How strong someone’s magic is will vary from person to person due to multiple factors (including training themself to use it properly). In the world, physical magic comes from certain “release points” on a magic-born; Solomon’s are his hands. For this fic’s purposes, MC’s release points are on the shoulders, arms, and upper back. Magic-borns that have non-physical magic, like Asmodeus in this fic, utilize weapons that have other magicians’ magic within it to defend themselves. ALSO magic-born individuals have weaker bodies than non-magic-born people (immune system, bodily strength, etc).

Solomon is a magician who makes whatever he touches poisonous to others. He’s transmasculine here and has a gender-affirmation ring that utilizes a shape shifting magician’s magic. (I have 4 characters in the actual story who have this kind of ring, one of which is mentioned here: Emanuela.)

Asmodeus is a vampire that can charm others. They have a gender-affirmation ring as well, being genderfluid (it works differently than Solomon’s for this reason). They also have a ring to protect them from Solomon’s magic, so they are the only one who can touch Solomon’s hands.

MC is a magician with heat/fire magic.

(The way I’ve structured things, magic-born is the minority in every race [human, faery, merperson, etc], except vampires are always magic-born— as well as the smallest race.) Solomon and Asmodeus have a vampire-magician marriage, meaning they each have a tattoo on their neck of the other’s name. If they were to have a third person in their marriage, the individual’s name would also be added to their necks. This is mostly to signify to any vampires besides Asmodeus that Solomon is not to be fed from. (Vampires don’t see it as ownership, but cultures outside theirs think of it as such.)

LASTLY, a lot of the world building is still being done, which is making writing the actual story itself difficult. No perspective is meant to be completely black and white within the actual story.

Mentioned characters from the actual universe: (former princess of the empire, wife of the queen of vampires) Emanuela, Zeta (daughter of the queen of vampires)

onto the crossover -3-

Asmodeus trailed behind MC and Solomon, listening quietly to their surroundings as they all walked. They were hunting for non-vampire appropriate food, which was frankly more frustrating than it should have been. Animals were scarce due to the conflict between the vampires and the empire, which was making non-vampires irritable. If Asmodeus didn’t know any better, they would have tricked a few magicians into turning just to ease the food supply demand. Although they knew it was wrong, most of what was stopping them was the fact that Lady Emanuela would no doubt catch on— since they shared the same vein of magic and she wouldn’t be affected by any of their tricks— then turn them in to her wife, the queen of vampires.

Solomon stalled his tracks and turned to gaze at Asmodeus. “My love, maybe we should turn around. There doesn’t seem to be anything in this area.” He fumbled with his gender-affirmation ring, unsure how Asmodeus would react. It wasn’t as if they weren’t equals, but he still felt weird speaking as such. “I haven’t even seen wild berries…”

Humming in agreement, Asmodeus adjusted the hood on their head. Despite the overcast, even a sliver of sunlight would still give them a nasty burn, and the war was prioritizing soldiers; no sun-deflecting salves were left in the city. “You’re right, Solomon. Unless MC has any reason for us to continue this area, we should go somewhere else.”

“Won’t we get in trouble if we leave our area?”

“This isn’t the empire, MC.” Asmodeus huffed and fiddled with their cloak once more, attempting to make the wrinkles more aesthetically pleasing. “We have to find one of Zeta’s animals and tell them what’s going on.”

Before anyone could say another word, an arrow shot into the small of Asmodeus’ back, making them cry out in pain. Solomon quickly grabbed them and shielded them behind himself, words failing to leave his mouth. MC had frozen in place, but their flames erupted from their shoulders and back due to the adrenaline. “Who’s there?” demanded Solomon finally, taking a glove off of his spare hand with his teeth. “Show yourself!”

There was only silence in response. Asmodeus squirmed out of his hold, reaching behind themself and snapping the arrow in half to reduce chances of it snagging during an inevitable fight. They could ignore it for the moment (there was no choice anyways). “You know they won’t. We have to find them ourselves, and kill them.”

“What if this is a trap?” MC asked quietly, glancing at the two before double checking their fire-resistant clothes were unscathed from their scare.

A plethora of arrows mockingly shot near the trio’s feet. The attackers were either missing on purpose or poorly taught. “Even if it is, we cannot allow them to find the city.” Asmodeus felt a bit lightheaded, and the weakness of a magic-born’s body was prominent with the arrow snuggly in their intestines. They swallowed hard, then reached for their pepper-box style gun, the reality of the situation hitting them. “The arrows are coming from that direction. Let’s go.”

Despite the sharp pain from the injury Asmodeus bore, they carefully lead Solomon and MC towards the source of the arrows. Solomon grabbed some rocks from the ground, feeling the poison he created within them instantly. Then MC spotted one of the shooters in a tree just above them. Without a second thought, they released their flames and willed them towards the shooter with a swing of their arm, setting the human ablaze, as well as the tree.

The action escalated the situation, causing the other shooters to graze Solomon’s ear and puncture Asmodeus’ bicep. A scream ripped from their throat as they quickly located an attacker and shot a death bullet directly into their skull. None of them were close enough to charm, and part of Asmodeus wondered if they knew this.

Solomon, overtaken with fear, reflexively threw his rocks in the direction of several attackers, poisoning them and causing them to scream out in pain. He glanced towards MC, who was burning a few of the attackers to death, then to Asmodeus. They were blinking out tears with each shot to a pursuer’s forehead. Promising himself that Asmodeus wouldn’t be hurt further, Solomon raced to an attacker and grabbed them by the throat, a strained shriek leaving them as his poison took over. Once he knew they would die, he hurried to the next person, then the next.

By the time they had killed all the attackers, Asmodeus was seeing white, collapsed on the ground. “Asmodeus!” Solomon hurried over to kneel at his spouse’s side, horrified at their condition. The cloak had flown off, so their skin was burning, and the arrows were stubbornly lodged into them. The one Asmodeus had snapped in half earlier was much deeper than the other, and Solomon felt his stomach twist. “Asmodeus, can you hear me?” he spoke gently, laying a hand on Asmodeus’ head. The vampire whimpered to him, and he carefully pulled them into his arms. He reached for the cloak and used it to shield them from the sunlight once more. “MC?” Solomon called out, feeling tears pricking his eyes.

The magician hurried over, bag of different looted items in one hand, and a magic-infused weapon in the other. “I was inspecting their belongings. Is Asmodeus okay?”

“I-I don’t know…” Solomon snapped the intact arrow in half, then discarded the remnants in a nearby bush. “Have you seen any of Zeta’s animals?”

“No.” MC sighed, squatting down to Solomon and Asmodeus’ level. “I found some stolen magic goods in their supplies. If I keep looking, there might be something to heal them or ease the pain.”

Solomon shook his head, then stood, holding Asmodeus close to his chest. “No, they probably have garlic-infused balms and edibles. We’ll have to wait until we return to the city.” He glanced around, then gazed at Asmodeus’ cloaked form when he felt their fingertips dig into his collarbone. “Did you inspect most of them?”

“All but the ones you killed.”

“There wasn’t much on them, but we should double check in case they have any information.” Solomon led MC back to the people he defended them from, keeping alert in case there was anyone else as they sifted through the dead’s belongings. “Anything?”

MC shrugged. “Only a couple letters to their families, a few stolen magical items, and one of them had the order to search for the city.” Solomon frowned, adjusting Asmodeus slightly before leading MC back towards the city. The two didn’t speak for a long while, mostly because they were both occupied by making it back without further issues. “Is… the healer in the city?”

“I don’t know. They’re probably not.” Solomon didn’t dare take his eyes away from his surroundings. “This war is making our city suffer. None of our usual hunters are home, none of our healers are home, there aren’t any sunlight-deflecting salves for everyday use, we’re low on food and blood…”

MC nodded, picking up the pace when they spotted the city walls. “Let’s hope Asmodeus will be alright.”

“Yes… let’s hope…”

#original work crossover #iwannawritelots #violence cw #violence tw

[dansnaturepictures]

28/05/22-Brilliant afternoon at Blashford Lakes

I came here for the first time in a few months today as there were a few birds reported I needed to see this year. I saw one of those early on when scanning over Ibsley water from the tern hide, a pretty female Red-crested Pochard. It was one I was very pleased to see this year and I got some nice views of it hanging about with a group of Coots and Tufted Ducks at times too. I saw this bird some more when ending the visit to Blashford Lakes at the tern hide later on. I took the third picture in this photoset of this bird with Tufted Ducks. Also of interest to me on Ibsley water was Black Swan, Egyptian Geese, Common Terns which I saw flying, diving and still on posts over and on both Ibsley water and Ivy lake today which was spectacular and beautiful to see and a few Great Crested Grebes with two doing little bits of the courtship dance.

When coming out of the hide I looked for a Hobby which my Mum and someone else had seen flying around at the start. I went up the viewing platform up the hill and after a few minutes was delighted when this agile raptor flew over. I then spent a glorious few minutes watching this bird glide high in the sky in my binoculars for a prolonged period. It was such a breathtaking sight seeing this key spring time bird. Blashford Lakes is where we first ever saw one in our early birdwatching days in 2008, and we saw one here again in 2011 but in this real strong few years the last few years that we have seen Hobby regularly year on year and more than once in some years in we hadn’t seen one at Blashford during it and I had a feeling we might this year. It’s a new favourite bird of mine added to that list in January after those strong years and that’s now the 32nd of my 34 favourite birds I have seen this year. As I said the other day the remaining two are ones found in parts of the country we won’t be going this year so it feels fantastic to think I’ve done as well as it was possible to for seeing favourite birds of mine this year a key part of any birdwatching year for me. Near the visitor centre today I saw another raptor on my list of favourite birds a Red Kite flying high.

At the centre in the flower bed I enjoyed photographing some sun-kissed foxgloves and other pink flowers the latter I took the sixth picture in this photoset of. On the way here in the car and later in the visit to Blashford today I saw foxgloves so it was great to see this one of my favourite flowers for the first time this year a flower I have loved for so long I was pleased with the photo I got of it with my macro lens a prominent flower photo I’ve taken so far this year. I always see them as a signpost to summer which felt great to see on such a lovely mostly sunny and warm day. I also enjoyed seeing lots of nice herb-Robert looking especially stunning in the sunlight and nice together as I took and tweeted a photo of, wood avens, red campion, water dropwort I believe, many oxeye daisies including painting the grassland well, nice little forget-me-not, I believe green alkanet, little pink willowherb and stitchwort I believe too and vetch today in the world of flowers. Ragwort looked nice on the journey too.

In a great bit of meadow which I took the seventh picture in this photoset of before reaching ivy north hide where I observed the diving terns I enjoyed a Common Blue butterfly in the lovely long grass, with I believe a Green-veined White seen past the woodland hide. On the way to this hide also I heard and saw a stunning male Blackcap well. From the woodland hide of course I got epic views of a Great Spotted Woodpecker which I took the first picture in this photoset of. I also took the second, fifth, eighth and ninth pictures in this photoset of landscapes here today there were such beautiful views with the gleaming blue water and bright green vegetation, and the fourth picture in this photoset of a beautiful Common Blue damselfly. 

From ivy south hide where I got chatting to a nice gentleman I enjoyed seeing adorable Black-headed Gull chicks on a nesting raft. Some special views of another lovely species I have seen chicks of this spring and lately and I took the tenth picture in this photoset of the adult with one. Then over ivy lake here a Hobby, maybe another maybe the same as before paraded over the water. Wonderful views of this rustic and sophisticated falcon. It has been a big year of falcons for me what with my return to Winchester working more regularly twice a week getting to see the Peregrines and with my first Merlins seen this year the very fact for the first time ever I can now say I have seen four falcons this year and today’s Hobby experience added so well to that. Its been a brilliant year of birds of prey for me already with some incredible species seen.

We ended the visit in the tern hide looking for another major bird reported here lately and thanks to the directions and help of someone else looking we spotted this beautiful distinctive female bird, a Long-tailed Duck. It was a joy and pleasure to watch this surface a few times, a mighty bird for me and one of my best seen this year. This took my year list to milestone 175 for me on my earliest ever date in a year with today being the most ticks I got in a day since we went to Skomer Island the first day of our two trips landing there this year. This capped off an amazing day at Blashford. I always feel good to get here at this time of year as during spring and summer with me only having the weekends and leave to go further afield to watch wildlife we focus on butterflies a lot too and I don’t visit here as much as I do in the winter. But it’s so great here in the spring too with it so full of life today which I really appreciated.

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first of one of my favourite birds the Hobby this year, my first Red-crested Pochard and Long-tailed Duck of the year, four more of my favourite birds the Great Spotted Woodpecker, Red Kite, Great Crested Grebe and Little Egret, Egyptian Goose, Greylag Goose, two Mute Swans foraging in a lily pond type area which the ninth picture shows, Black Swan, Mallard, lots of Tufted Ducks, Coot, Lapwing, Oystercatcher, Common Tern, Black-headed Gull, Herring Gull, Starling, Pied Wagtail, smashing Bullfinch, Blackcap, Great Tit well, possible Dunnock, Swallow, Woodpigeon, a fair few Jackdaws, Magpie, Carrion Crow, Common Blue butterfly, probable Green-veined White, Common Blue damselfly, a dragonfly I couldn’t quite tell which it flew fast, another dragonfly seen quickly which I believe was one of favourites the Broad-bodied Chaser, spider, possible wasp and Grey Squirrel.

#grey squirrel #great spotted woodpecker #tufted duck #red-crested pochard #long-tailed duck #photography #birdwatching #uk #world #nature #happy #new forest #blashford lakes #hampshire #birds #common blue #butterfly #damselfly #common blue damselfly #common blue butterfly #black swan #mute swan #red kite #birds of prey #bird of prey #pied wagtail #woodpigeon #great tit #young birds #photos

[fragileoracle]

Ⅴ - I Have Smoldering Ruins Behind My Teeth

November 1886 - Big Valley

TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE, MENTION OF SA, MURDER

"Careful now, you have to be quiet."

Mercy held her breath as she adjusted the rifle in her hands, her right eye shut as she kept the sight floating over the head of the stag about 100 yards out.

Its antlers had at least 34 points and was a beast of a creature standing at least five feet. "Part caribou" Uncle Charlie had whispered when he first glanced through the scope. Shrouded in the final rays of sunlight in the valley, it stood in the middle of a clearing grazing, isolated from its herd and none the wiser to their presence. Aiden and Cora could barely contain their excitement.

"Now take a deep breath, and when you're ready squeeze the trigger on your exhale." Uncle Charlie whispered to her, his hand on her back as he too watched their quarry. Mercy could feel the blood rushing under her skin as adrenaline sang through her veins. Digging the stock of the gun firmly against her shoulder, she zeroed in on the deer.

Mercy took a deep breath through her nostrils. Her lungs filled with air and just as she meant to exhale the stag inexplicably lifted its head from grazing, turning toward her. In that moment Mercy could have sworn the deer had locked eyes with her. Its large black eyes watching her from an impossible distance. Still chewing the grass from his graze as he laid eyes on his hunter, yet it was her that froze as her breath caught in her throat.

Her trigger finger wouldn't so much as twitch. She willed herself to act, yet her finger would not obey her. It was only a moment, but Mercy felt time slow as she watched the stag simply walk back through the trees. Disappearing.

"She choked again," Aiden grumbled, kicking a fallen tree limb. "I told you Uncle Charlie, she always chokes."

"I did not choke." Mercy snapped, dropping the muzzle of the rifle to the ground as she glared at her younger brother. "I do not always choke."

With a chuckle, Uncle Charlie gently patted Mercy on the back before holding out his hand for the rifle. Mercy sighed before handing him the weapon.

"I didn't choke." She reaffirmed, "It looked at me, I thought it was gonna run."

"It walked away, sissy." Cora crooned, wrapping her arms around Mercy's leg. "You didn't wanna kill the deer! That's good!"

"Yeah, sissy," Aiden snickered as he poked at her some more. "It walked away, you didn't even try to take a shot."

"Okay you little sociopath, I think you've made your point." Mercy put a hand on her sister's head, still glaring at Aiden eating it up.

"Yeah, you sociopath," Cora repeated, screwing her face up as she glared at him.

"Alright now, that's enough." Uncle Charlie cleared his throat, giving Mercy a pointed look. "We aren't out here to hunt, we are here to learn. This is the perfect lesson in maintaining strong morals. Just because we can kill, doesn't mean we should. We have enough to feed our family, and for that, we should be grateful. The moment you start living in excess is the moment you give into the gree--"

"Into the greed of capitalism." All three kids quoted their uncle in perfect unison, who only laughed at them.

"If only you remembered all of my lessons so thoroughly." He remarked, playfully smacking Aiden upside the head as he swatted back, taking off ahead of them on the path. "Let's get back home, I'm sure your mother's got supper waiting for us., better not keep her waiting."

"I hope it ain't cabbage." Cora stuck out her tongue, releasing Mercy's leg as she skipped after Aiden.

"It's not." Charlie corrected her, "I hope it's not cabbage." However, Cora was too wrapped up in her own world to hear. Good old-fashioned selective hearing as their father liked to call it.

A trait Cora would have gotten from him, Mercy thought.

"You do." Uncle Charlie said, this time looking at Mercy.

"I do what?" Mercy asked dumbly, refusing to make eye contact with her uncle.

"You always hesitate when the gun is in your hands."

"Isn't that a good thing? Thinking before actin and all that, your words." Mercy grumbled, still ignoring Charlie's gaze.

Charlie Graves was quiet for a moment as they walked, a heavy kind of quiet that Mercy hated. It meant her point wouldn't be made for long before Uncle Charlie would tell her why she was wrong.

Especially lately it seemed like she was always wrong, and nothing she did was right. More than being wrong she hated how rational her uncle was when correcting her. Always trying to find the logic in things instead of just letting them be, every damn thing had to have a reason or lesson to be learned. He used to say that it was important to learn from your mistakes yet Mercy was expected to never make a mistake.

Her uncle was a tall lanky man with a tall lanky face, the exact opposite of his brother, Mercy's father. He wore smart clothes and his nails were always clean and groomed just like his waxy mustache that Cora loved. He reminded Mercy of the men who would sometimes come into Strawberry from places like Boston and Chicago, he talked like them too. When she was younger she would say she wanted to marry a man like Uncle Charlie, intelligent and debonair. As if she even really knew what debonair meant.

"You're right." Charlie finally said.

"I know, but… wait what?" Mercy furrowed her brow as she looked at her uncle, thoroughly confused. "I'm right?"

"That's right," he confirmed with a soft, sad smile. "It is good to think before you act, but someday you may not have time to think, so it's more important to know when to act or at least be familiar enough with how to act. Do you understand?"

"I… I think so." Mercy lied, looking straight ahead. The truth was she had no idea what the man was on about. Maybe he was still sore about her letting the deer get away. Yet he was the one who insisted that they hadn't gone out hunting in the first place after that whole speech about not needing the deer and capitalism.

"Trust your instincts dear girl, and don’t be ruled by fear." He said with a tone of finality confounding his niece even more.

As the four of them broke the tree line, the sound of approaching horse hooves brought their attention to the horizon where the ranch loomed in the distance, smoke drifting up from the chimney.

Two horses, Mercy recognized as Archer and May. The rider approached with the second saddled horse following closely behind. Pulling his horse's reigns, the young man stopped short, kicking up a small cloud of dust as he tipped his hat to Mercy who only rolled her eyes in response.

August Riley, the stepbrother she never asked for.

"Ma'am." August acknowledged her.

"Idiot," Mercy replied under her breath, making both Cora and Aiden giggle.

"Mr. Charles, Isaac still hasn't got in from Strawberry. Mama wants us to ride out and see if we can't bring him back." August said, his words a little too pointed. Mercy knew that was code for Papa was gambling or drinking again and calling it "business".

"Alright, son." Charles nodded solemnly, taking May's reigns as he mounted the nag. "You three go on ahead and help your mother. Looks like this storm is going to be a nasty one."

"Let me come with!" Aiden shouted, grabbing at August's reigns. "I'm a man too now! Mama said so!"

"No sir," August said, steadying Archer who was getting restless with the young boy's jostling. "Can't leave the womenfolk without any protection and a storm on the way, you got to keep Mama and your sisters safe."

Perfectly cued thunder rumbled across the valley drawing their attention to the sky. The mean-looking storm brewing all afternoon had grown three shades darker, swallowing the rest of the early evening light. Cora yelped, clinging to Mercy's leg once again as she hid her ruddy face in her elder sister's hip.

"We'll be back soon." Uncle Charlie nodded, slinging the rifle over his shoulder as he and August galloped down the path toward Strawberry. Aiden standing alongside Mercy and Cora looking more than a little dejected.

"Alright you two, let's go before we get rained on," Mercy said, watching her uncle and brother disappear into the trees.

"Is Papa alright, sissy?" Cora's voice was small and her eyes big as she pleaded with Mercy for assurance. Kids always knew more than adults realized, and in that moment Mercy hated their father with every fiber of her being.

He didn't deserve her worry.

"Well now, we're the ones out in this storm!" Mercy teased, pinching her cheek as she urged her little sister forward. "Come on let's go help."

"I hate August." Aiden griped, glaring in the direction the two older men disappeared. "I don't wanna do no protecting. I am a grown man."

"Yes sir, you sure are." Mercy smirked, "If they brought you along there'd be no use in keeping them around."

Aiden wasn't placated, Mercy's words seemed to make him more ornery. "At least I can shoot a stupid deer."

"Quit bein' mean, Aiden," Cora whined, putting her little hands on her hips as she stood between Mercy and Aiden as if she meant to protect her older sister from their bloodthirsty little brother. "You're just mad you're still a kid and they didn't need you slowing them down."

"Who asked you?" Aiden sneered, "Women should be seen and not heard."

"Aiden!" Mercy snapped, the back of her hand twitching as she desired nothing more than to slap him from then to Sunday. "You keep that up and the only dinner you'll be having is a bar of soap. Just you wait til I tell Mama." Grabbing the boy by his collar Mercy dragged him behind her as the trio made for the Ranch, the smell of rain heavy on the air.

Letting the squirming Aiden go, he made a beeline through the front door already hollering to their mother how Mercy and August had been bullying him. Uncle Charlie and Cora had taken their side leaving him the odd man out. Mercy and Cora tried to contain their giggles as they too walked into their home. The rich smell of marinated steak replaced the scent of the storm and Mercy felt her stomach lurch. Whatever Nell had started cooking smelled divine.

"Smells good, mama." Mercy walked into the kitchen, sticking her tongue out at Aiden as he continued to whine at his mother's feet.

"And it's not cabbage!" Cora cried gleefully, already climbing into a chair at the table.

"Now I know not every single one of you is bringing your muddy boots into my kitchen." Nell drawled, one hand on her hip and a wooden spoon in the other. That wooden spoon of hers was better than any rifle, and judging by the look on their mother's face, they were all in immediate danger of feeling its wooden wrath.

"God gave all of you eyes to see, and I gave you the good sense to know those damn animals need to be put up before the wind makes off with our chickens."

"But mama! That storm is scary." Cora pouted, her bottom lip jutting out.

"I'm scarier." Nell snapped, cracking the spoon against her steaming cast iron pot. "All of you, out! Go on!"

"Cora help Aiden with the chickens, I'll make sure the horses are put up." Mercy wrapped her little sister in a leather coat, while the girl's brown eyes started welling with tears.

"Can’t I come with you?' Cora's lip quivered.

"It won't take a minute, go on with your brother." Mercy smiled, patting Cora's cheek as she urged her after Aiden.

"Come on, if we do it together it'll be quicker." Aiden grabbed Cora's hand and the two ran out toward the coop.

Mercy walked out onto the porch watching as the wind picked up, sending a gust across the valley as the mostly dead grass swayed violently. Taking a moment to admire the sounds and smells of the storm, Mercy leaned against the porch post watching Aiden and Cora chase the chickens into the coop, smiling as Aiden tripped over Cora the sound of their laughter carried off by the wind.

Looking back to the horizon the distant sound of rain filled the valley, distracting Mercy as she watched the pine trees along the outskirts of the clearing bend under the approaching downpour. It was like veil of grey was slowly being pulled over the forest.

"Hell." Mercy grumbled before sprinting across the riding corral toward the barn. Picking up the pace, she flew into the barn like a bat out of hell managing to just beat the torrent of rain as the clouds broke over Big Valley.

Alarmed whinnies and the thundering of rain against the stable roof created a din so loud Mercy's ears rang. She shoved the barn doors closed, bringing down the wooden bar to lock them in place.

Rainwater had already begun to pool beneath the door carrying with it mud and leaves. Dancing backward, Mercy kicked over a bale of hay to stop the water from flooding the rest of the barn. Leaned against the bale for a moment to catch her breath, she recognized the screaming horse as Caspian.

His stall door shook violently as Caspian kicked the door, the hinges rattling against the force of his fear. Careful not to stand directly in front of the door she called to him in a lower register as she tapped gently on the stall door.

"Whoa, boy." Mercy crooned, "It's alright, Caspian. Hey now, it's alright."

He whinnied still aggravated as the rain continued to assault the stable roof, water running down one of the posts as the roof began to leak. Caspian had stopped kicking the door, his white rump twitching as he cocked his ears back toward Mercy while she continued to call his name. Clicking her tongue to keep his attention. Unlatching his stall, Mercy carefully made her way to his side, patting his flank as she hummed to him. The colt seemed to relax under her touch, nickering softly as he nodded his big ole head, bumping her shoulder with his nose.

"All that over some rain, you're alright boy. Nothing to be scared of."

Turning the horse around in his stall, Mercy continues to assuage Caspian. He was a large, pure white beast of a creature, at least 5 feet and the breeder said he wasn't done growing yet. He was an Arabian with pure blue eyes and a pink nose softer than velvet.

It was an interesting turn of fate her collection of Caspian and his highly prized papers. The last time her Pa had gotten too drunk to find his way back home, it had been her alone that went off to Strawberry to collect him. After she found Isaac, another man stopped them from leaving claiming Isaac owed him a debt. Unable to play further, Mercy said she'd play in her father's stead. After three hands, Mercy had all but robbed the debtor blind at poker.

Riding home on Caspian felt good, but since then Mercy wasn't allowed back in Strawberry, forbade by her embarrassed father. Thankless work being part of the Graves family was.

Caspian nudged her again, lipping at her side looking for an apple no doubt. She always brought him apples.

"Not this time, boy. I'm sorry." Mercy patted his wide, warm neck. "Once this storm passes over I'll bring you two, how's that sound?" Caspian stared at her blankly before snorting, looking away with a flick of his tail as if he were dismissing Mercy altogether.

"Oh, you big ole snob." Mercy gently smacked his rump before she left his stall again, this time making sure the stall door was fully latched. "One apple it is since you wanna be ungrateful--"

As she formed the word 'ungrateful', a crack of thunder exploded across the valley. Violently echoing in the outside of the stable, startling Mercy and the horses alike.

The sound of Caspian's hooves slamming against the wood frame was accompanied by the sharper sound of broken metal. She felt him before she saw him break free from his stall, the whites of his eyes clear even in the dim light of the stable. Landing square on her back, Mercy instinctively threw her arms over her face as Caspian spun out, bucking and throwing his body around. The other horses were just as upset as he cried. To make matters worse, Mercy was pinned beneath the broken stall door and more than a little dazed.

Gritting her teeth, Mercy pushed away the stall door and crawled to her knees, calling out to Caspian who wouldn't be convinced to settle. The stable door barring wasn't strong enough to keep the terrified colt from breaking free. It took three solid kicks before the wind did the rest, the barn doors flew open swinging against the side of the building. Mercy scrambled to her feet, grabbing a length of rope from an equipment post as she stumbled after Caspian, calling his name uselessly.

Caspian was a streak of magnificent white against the grey of the rain as he disappeared into the trees. Within seconds, he was gone.

Still catching her breath, Mercy stood pathetically in the opening of the stable getting pelted by the rain. Her hair stuck to her face in thin rivers of brown. Narrowing her eyes she looked through the rain, blinking as she recognized the blurry figures of more horses.

Seven horses standing at the entrance of the ranch, some mounted while three of them stood with empty saddles. None of the seven mounts were May or Archer, in fact kneeling in the mud was August, his face downturned. Next to him laid the unmoving, muddy figure of a man who looked just like her uncle Charlie even from the distance she stood. Standing above them pointing was a stranger wearing a hat white as Caspian's coat.

Mercy felt her heart climb into her throat.

The man in the white hat wasn't just pointing at August, he was holding a revolver pointed at August's head. A scream was building in Mercy's chest as she quickly clasped her hand over her mouth. That hadn't been thunder at all, but the fatal bark of a gun, and Mercy was frozen in the open door of the stable.

A deer recognizing a hunter of her own.

The two heads that had turned to watch the beautiful white Arabian gallop off into the distance had returned their gazes to Mercy. Five more hats turned in her direction, and the blood in her veins turned to glass as she felt her single survival imperative scream to run while terror rooted her to place. Time slowed as the man in the white hat lowered his gun a couple of inches, yelling something too faint to hear as he gestured in her direction.

"Oh no. No. No no."

Mercy's heart pounded as she willed her limbs to move, Aiden's words came back to her tauntingly. Maybe it was true, the second time in one day she'd frozen. Choked up. Every cell in her body would have taken off with her yet she could only stare dumbly at the scene unfolding before her. Th two men mounted their horses, already kicking their mounts into a gallop. It would take a mere seconds for them to cross the distance and she had run out of time.

"There's nowhere to--"

"RUN!" August's voice screamed across the distance, so loud and aggressive that for a split second Mercy didn't recognize it as his voice at all. Yet the single command reignited Mercy's survival instincts, and as if moving of its own accord, her body turned back into the barn. Mercy felt the muscles in her legs spring to action as she made a mad dash to the back of the barn, the rope still held in her hands as she whipped her head back and forth. The first thing she laid eyes on was the ladder to the hayloft, and without thinking she immediately began to climb.

Hand over hand, foot over foot. The only thought in her mind was to hide as she ignored the soreness in her rib cage from being slammed to the ground by a frightened horse. Clambering across the rickety wooden scaffolding of the hayloft, Mercy crawled to the back corner between a large stack of hay bales along with a few empty crates.

"Knock, knock!" A gruff male voice called out from the opening of the stable, the distinct sounds of spurs clicked against the flagstones. "Where's that purty young thing we saw standing in the rain just now?" his voice honeyed as he attempted sweetness.

Bile rose in Mercy's throat as she slid between the hayloft window and a stack of hay. Had she been a bit more aware she would have found the entire situation comedic. The only thing that stood between her and the bloodthirsty strangers that had overrun her home was hay. Only she was no needle.

"Why don't you come on out, girl." A second voice, far more venomous than the first called out to her. "It'll be worse for you if you make us come look for you."

As if to emphasize his words, another crack of gunfire rang out. The sound shook Mercy to her core as she watched the burst of light reflect on her knees from the hayloft window, too quick to be lightning. Frozen once again, Mercy braved a glance out the window to find two bodies lying in the mud as something darker ran through the rivers of rainwater. Her tears burned as they spilled over, splashing against the hand still firmly clamped over her mouth.

She watched in silent horror as the shadows of the strangers stretched across the porch as they walked into her home, the light from inside spilling out into the yard. A single scream echoed in the distance before the sounds of the storm took over again, drowning out distant blood-curdling cries.

"Hear that?" The second voice growled, "This'll go a whole lot smoother if you just come out nice and quiet."

"Shut up, M. I don't mind a little hide and seek." The first voice snapped before returning the purr to his voice. "Oh little mouse, where'd you go little mouse? Yer a real purty thing from what I saw."

"You ain't see anything, cowpoke." The second voice, M, griped, overturning something in the stable as he picked over the saddle shelves judging by the direction of his voice. "You'd fuck a sheep if it wore a dress."

"Nah, I know what I saw." The first voice grunted, sounding a bit more aggravated. "I'm getting impatient little mouse, I promise if you come out now I'll be real gentle."

Mercy's muscles burned in protest as she stayed hidden, completely frozen as adrenaline locked her in her crouched position under the window. Tears still streamed down her cheeks as she prayed to whoever was listening at that moment to let her live and to save her family.

Please let August still be alive and annoying, and God, spare my uncle Charlie he'd never hurt a fly. Please save my family and I swear to you I will go to church every Sunday and never question you again. I'll even make Cora and Aiden--

Her blood turned to ice as she remembered her younger siblings, their faces immediately coming to mind. Unable to hold back, a fearful whimper clear as a church-bell tore itself from her throat as her legs gave out sending her to the floor. Before she could react, her knees and hands pushed the haystack forward as she instinctively tried to catch herself. The weight of the stack shifted and for a suspended moment in time, Mercy watched as the top few bales teetered back and forth as if trying to decide whether or not to fall.

Please…

Every sound from the rain to the grating voices of the men in her stable went silent as she watched the three bales fall over. The topmost one tumbled to the ground floor of the stable as she sat exposed in the hayloft. The masked face of one of the men appeared at the top of the ladder, his shaded eyes locking with hers as she felt the breath leave her.

"There you are, little mouse." The man stood up from the ladder, a greasy smile plastered on his face as he crouched, wiping his hands on his dirty jeans. "Found her, M."

M followed the first man up the ladder, leaning against the scaffolding as he glared at her from beneath the brim of his hat.

"I told you she was purty." the greasy man said over his shoulder.

"You'd still fuck a sheep in a dress, L." M seethed, climbing up the rest of the ladder as he immediately crossed the scaffolding to Mercy who once more couldn't will herself to move. The man's callused hand wrapped around her wrist as he yanked her to her feet.

All at once she felt her fight return as she brought her free hand down on the man, her nails catching skin as she clawed at his face. He squealed like a stuck pig stumbling back, his hand flew to his face as he cursed. His hat fell over the edge of the hayloft revealing a head of stringy blonde hair and beady blue eyes that now bore into hers burning with a hatred she'd never seen before.

"Fucking bitch."

Before she could move out of his reach, her aggressor struck her with a closed fist. Mercy felt something in her face collapse as stars danced across her vision, the pain was slow and unending as tears streamed down her face summoned by trauma to the head. The taste of salt and metal mingled and filled her mouth as she fell back against the fallen stack of hay.

"Christ, M, She's just one little girl. Don't rough her up too much, I want her to be aware." He drawled as he approached her, Mercy's head still swimming as she tried to put some distance between them to no avail. "I don't mind em with a little fight. Grab her wrists."

As the taller of the two men slowly approached her, Mercy watched carefully through blurred vision, waiting until she was confident. Not moving until he was close enough. Blindingly quick, Mercy's leg shot up as she slammed the toe of her boot into his jaw. A small flash of white flew out of his mouth followed by a short gushing of blood pouring down his beard. Crying out, he stumbled back into the blonde "M" as they both crashed to the floor of the hayloft in a tumble of limbs and slurred curses

Mercy didn't hesitate this time.

Pushing herself off the fallen stack of hay, Mercy crossed the hayloft rushing toward the ladder. Just as the top rung was in reach, her fingertips brushing against the frame, a hand clasped around her ankle and she felt gravity pulling her down. Fast. Only there wasn't an immediate impact as she fell over the hayloft, heels over head. The flagstones greeted her painfully as she hit the floor of the stable, the wind forced out of her on a tight gasp.

Mercy heard a nasty crack somewhere in the stable as she lay limply on the floor, something warm and wet oozing down the back of her neck. She was only vaguely aware of the feeling of hands on her again as two strange faces hovered over her in the dim. Yet they faded into nothingness as she drifted into the warmth that left her body.

She was no longer in the stable.

Looking up Mercy watched as the sun streamed through the canopy of an unfamiliar forest. The leaves created endless patterns against the blue of the endless sky beyond the branches. Wispy nets of cloud passed over cooling the air every time they were stirred by the pleasant spring breeze. Mercy was enveloped in the scent of moss and pine. It was warm and even though her heart was pounding and her body wracked with pain that wouldn't stop spreading, she felt safe.

Closing her eyes Mercy listened to the sounds of the forest. The calling of woodpeckers and thrum of cicadas lulled her. She relaxed her limbs, releasing the tension that only served to hurt her more. A new sound drew her back as she faced the source of breaking branches.

Standing close enough to touch was a deer with the most abnormal rack of antlers she'd ever seen. Far beyond 34 points and perfectly symmetrical like a painting, glowing like a halo from the sunlight. Even the deer itself seemed to have a pure gold coat. It reminded her of the deer that had looked back at her with those same wet, dark eyes that seemed too intelligent to be real. In that moment, she had ignored the impossibility of the deer's existence instead preferring to admire it. Weakly, Mercy held out a hand to the creature as it pawed the ground impatiently, splashing her with water.

Mercy let her hand fall, as her eyelids grew heavy again.

She was so tired.

The stag barked, pawing the ground once more as a fine spray of water and mud hit the side of her cheek. The warmth receded with the light of the sun as she stirred beneath the new shadows. More water splashed her face as the sense of comfort faded. Pain returned, setting her nerve endings on fire.

This time, the air smelled of smoke and still water as Mercy became aware of her surroundings. There were no sounds of cicadas or even rain. All she could hear were the faint calls of mourning doves. Mercy opened her eyes as water once again splashed her face and legs. As her consciousness was restored, so was the full extent of her agony.

Crying out was all Mercy could do to cope with the intense protesting of her body. It took an indiscernible amount of time before rational thought returned so she could attempt moving her limbs. She felt every part of her body as it smarted against every minuet movement she made.

First, she realized she was alone. Completely Alone. The stalls had been emptied, every horse was gone leaving the kind of silence that only follows death. The memory of Caspian galloping away glimmered in her mind for a moment until the pain reminded her of the present.

Second, she smelled smoke, only now it was more potent than before. Attempting a full breath, she coughed hoarsely, clutching her throat as she tasted blood and ash on her tongue. Her shoulder throbbed in response, more than likely dislocated if not completely broken.

Eyes blurry with grime and tears, Mercy crawled across the muddy floor to a wooden post, pulling herself up. She fought against the pleas of her broken body, limping toward the light spilling in from the open stable doors.

"Help!" She croaked, her voice brittle as she fell forward out of the stable, panting with exertion. In that moment all she wanted was to be held by her uncle and told everything would be alright. That it was just a dream. To hear Aiden and Cora calling her name or bickering. Even to see August tilt that stupid hat of his.

Mercy faced the smoldering ruins of her home, the echoes of gunfire still ringing in her ears.

The bodies of her family's horses lay dead in the yard, vultures and crows picking at their rotting corpses. The few steer they kept were gone from the corral, the gate swinging by a hinge as it creaked guiltily. Mercy stared wordlessly at the burnt remains of the only home she'd ever known. The porch swing with the rusted chains was nothing more than a pile of rubble and the garden under her bedroom window was left a scorched patch of earth.

Smoke thick and white still lazily curled toward the sky with nothing left to burn.

The ringing got louder as her fingers curled into fists.

Everything had been stolen from her and burned to ash without the courtesy of letting her burn too. The distance visage of bodies that had just hours ago been upright. Only two. Where was Nell? Aiden and Cora, they would have run. They wouldn't have choked like her.

Stupid.

Of course, they were okay. Only two bodies. Where was Pa? Where was that useless, alcoholic, gambling, no good father of hers. With his lies and his debt.

Its his fault.

Shock had begun to set in as Mercy turned away from the wreckage, unable to look any longer. It couldn't have been coincidence that the same night her father couldn't bother to come back home they have their house burned down by outlaws.

And what else?

No, it wasn't coincidence. This was far from the first time something like this had happened, and it had only been a matter of time before someone got hurt.

Where was that ringing coming from?

A wild, lamenting wail rang through the valley as Mercy's grief poured from her bloodied mouth. Flooding the salted earth with rage as she swore on the bones of the departed, her nails caked with dirt as she buried them. Her heart cold beneath the dirt as she wept.

In a lamenting reprise, Mercy promised war.

#chapter five #the fox and the stag #trigger warning

[gloriabomfim]

As I dangled from the sturdy tree branch, I could feel the rush of excitement and adventure surging through my veins. Blossom and Lilac, my two cherished companions, watched with gleeful fascination as I swung to and fro, high above the charming Charmixie gardens.

Blossom, with her elegance and serene presence, wore a contented smile on her face. Her eyes, like shimmering pools of enchantment, followed my every move. "Boone," she said in her soft, soothing voice, "you're quite the daredevil up there, aren't you?"

I couldn't help but chuckle as I replied, "Well, you know me, Blossom. Always seeking new heights and thrills!" Her admiration filled me with a warm sense of accomplishment.

Lilac, my mischievous and spirited little sister, clapped her hands together in delight. Her sparkling lavender eyes danced with joy as she exclaimed, "Boone, you're amazing! Can I try swinging from a branch next?"

I flashed a grin at Lilac's infectious enthusiasm. "Of course, Lilac," I replied. "We'll take turns, and I'll make sure you have the most thrilling swing ever!"

Blossom's pink mist gently enveloped us, creating an atmosphere of enchantment and tranquility. "Watching you, Boone, reminds me of the magic that surrounds us in the Charmixie gardens," she mused, her voice carrying a sense of wonder.

Lilac nodded vigorously, her vibrant wings fluttering with excitement. "And I love how you always show us the fun side of life, Boone," she chimed in. "You make everything an adventure!"

With Blossom's grace and Lilac's boundless spirit, I felt like the luckiest Mixel on Mixel Moon. As we continued to swing and laugh together in the fading sunlight, I knew that our bond was as unbreakable as the charm of the Charmixie gardens. And in moments like these, surrounded by the love and joy of my beloved companions, I couldn't help but savor the magic of our extraordinary world.

#mixels #oc #boone #blossom #lilac

[interkellar]

Kissing God Goodbye, June Jordan // I don't want to live a small life, Mary Oliver // Art by @nephrosoupp

#lovers alone wear sunlight #dark academia #light academia #sunlight academia #we have always felt sunlight in our veins #you are my sunlight #my love #my life #mary oliver #art by #nephrosoupp #web weaving #interkellar

[thewriterthatghostedyou]

So this is actually my favorite chapter so far, but it does deal with past trauma and mention how the reader got her scar. I personally don’t think it’s too graphic but I just want to give y’all a heads up so you aren’t caught off guard. And as always any constructive feedback is appreciated.

Trigger warnings: gore, nightmare, the fold, loss of limbs, and I think that’s it

Shadows and Scars

Chapter 7

The room that I was staying in was giant. Definitely bigger than the tents at Kribirsk, I studied the golden edged walls and marveled at the crisp white decor.

The windows had golden curtains that were shoved open and the bright sunlight trinkled inside. Through them I could see the outside of Aleksander’s war room, the other guards barracks, and a spectacular garden. I made a mental note to explore the new addition to the Little Palace as soon as I could.

There were two side rooms, one led to a bathroom with an ornate metal tub and the other was a closet the size of a small pantry full of clothes. A desk was on the right side of the closet and I saw stacks of paper on it.

In the middle of the room, there was a massive canopy bed that looked like it was made of clouds and after receiving my brace with the general- Aleksander, I leaped right on the top of the covers and fell fast asleep.

~~~

“It’s going to get dark.” A familiar voice said loudly. “But we like it dark.”

My eyes snapped open and I was terrified to find that I was on a skiff. Not just any skiff, my first one.

The lead grisha kept rambling on about safety and the blue light at the helm of the ship and I felt heavy breaths start to appear.

The handsome squalor had no clue what was coming. That some of his last words were the same spiel given to every trip that crossed through the fold. How many others had died after uttering those words? How many died after hearing them?

My throat constricted as the ship jerked forward. Propelled by the handsome squalor and a friend of his, the skiff floated towards the fold. I squeezed my eyes shut and shuddered as I felt the recognizable chill that accompanied entering the fold pass through my spine.

My hands started to shake as a first army soldier loaded his gun. He turned and looked at me with a smile. “First time?”

I nodded meekly at him.

“You’ll be fine. This is my second, I still will have to cross back over again after this mission.” I flinched as his heavy hand slapped my back.

“My name is-“ the soldier’s introduction was cut off by a screech. Volcra.

“Oh god.” My eyes widened as the monster swooped down and ripped the man off of the desk right in front of me. The man’s screams echoed throughout the darkness as he was carried away.

I stumbled back and tripped over a coil of rope. There were more screeches now. I stumbled towards the back of the ship and hid behind a box. By now I was wheezing and couldn’t control the fear that coursed through my veins.

“How far in are we?” An inferni whispered to a rifleman.

“18 markers.” The rifleman replied back shakily. He cocked his gun, and his eyes were trained to the sky.

It didn’t feel like we were already halfway there, but I suppose time feels different in the fold.

The whole crew was dead silent and for a second the screeches stopped. And there was silence.

“Saints I can’t see a damn thing.” A voice said, I stiffened as I heard them rummaging around before striking a match.

My blood froze and a cacophony of inhuman screams came raining down on us.

I stared in horror as the volcra swooped down again and again like pesky birds and impaled soldiers and grisha alike with their claws.

The screaming was not just from the volcra now. The handsome squalor from before fell to the main deck with a loud thud and I saw that his arm had been taken off. Our eyes locked as another volcra came at him and dragged his body across the deck. An eerie red stain painted the deck.

At this I snapped back to reality, leaped over the box I was cowering behind, and grabbed a fallen rifle. I ignored how slippery it was from the blood that coated it and started to fire at a volcra trying to take off with Nikos.

“Not today you bastard.” I swore, as I pulled the trigger and hit the volcra straight through the head. Nikos fell to the desk and scrambled over to me. “Are you alright?” I asked him looking for injuries.

“I’m fine.” He gasped out. Before collapsing to the deck. My eyes widened as I saw a massive gash across his abdomen start to spread.

I put my hands together to try to heal him, when I felt a sharp claw drag it’s way down my back. I screamed in agony and fell to the floor next to my friend.

Behind me was a massive volcra. By far the largest of the swarm and it leered at me with a hungry grin. I felt blood drip onto my arms as I reached for the gun, but when the pain shot through my left leg I went limp. The damn thing had my leg in its mouth and had taken flight.

The pain on my back was nothing compared to the fire that burned in my leg. I shrieked as we rose higher into the sky and the volcra’s grip on me tightened.

Hot tears leaked out of my eyes and I took in a shuddering breath. This is how I was going to die.

The giant volcra flung me around and released his hold on me. I cursed and screamed as my heart rose to my throat and my body plummeted towards the ground.

I felt another searing pain in my leg and the volcra had latched on again in a new place. It landed in the black sand and released my leg with a slight growl.

I crawled away from the beast, not noticing that the blood from my leg was not red but black.

The monster tilted its head at me before giving me one more look and then unwrapping it’s powerful wings.

The volcra leaped into the air and flew back to the skiff and the screams of terror. I hyperventilated as I tried to stand up. The pain and numbness in my leg became so intense that I eventually gave up and crawled away from the chaos, dragging my leg in the sand.

After the saints knew how long I stopped hearing the screams of my crew mates and the loud shrieks of the volcra. But I still kept dragging myself forward. One breath at a time. One shuffle at a time.

It took me three days to find my way back to the entrance of the fold. Three days in the dark, huddling into a ball whenever I heard the slightest bit of noise. Three days without hearing another person's voice, seeing light, eating.

By the time I had clawed my way into the sunlight, my frail body was about to give out and I barely registered the shocked shouts given from the sentries.

A massive horde of fellow grisha ran over to me, but all I remember after that was fading back into the darkness.

~~~

I shouted as I hurled myself awake, trying to forget the horrifying memory. Trying to forget the soldier with no name, the squalor’s blank eyes, my black blood.

Of course nightmares were frequent, but I hated sleeping after them all the same. I raised my shaking arms to my face and wiped off beads of sweat.

Perhaps it was time to see what had changed in the Little Palace since I had been away.

#fanfic #reader insert #writing #darkling fic #darkling x you #the darkling x reader #darkling x reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse #aleksander morozova #aleksander x reader #darkling #the darkling #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes #darkling x y/n