#when you stared too long into the darkness of the forest and it became bright and shining in your eyes and in your throat

[cdragons]

"My Girl" - Robb Stark x Forest Fairy!Reader Drabble

A/N: This goes out to my girl, @dipperscavern! She needed a pick-me-up after the Tumblr app decided to be a bitch and delete her draft!!! But she still pressed on and wrote an incredible Robb Stark smut drabble! Pls go check it out!

"Please, Jon," Robb pleaded. "Just for today, and I'll make it up to you."

"Your mother will kill me if she finds out," Jon groaned. Normally, he'd be more than happy to cover for his brother, but what he was asking for was too much - even for him. "She hates me enough as it is."

"She doesn't hate you," Robb winced at the lie, but he was desperate. "Please, I have to see her."

"Why can't you see her tomorrow?" asked his half-brother. "The hunt is tomorrow anyway, you can just sneak away to see her then."

Robb shook his head. "You know how she feels about hunts. The moment the horn blows, she'll scatter far away, and I won't be able to see her for a week! A week - that's too long!"

Jon stared at his brother in complete disbelief at his dramatics. It was hard to believe that the first son of Ned Stark, Warden of the North, would be so far gone for a girl who lived so deep in the forest. A girl who lived a life completely shrouded herself in the mysterious beauty of the ancient woods.

A girl whose allure and grace were of a being so ethereal, she shouldn't exist.

Jon sighed. "Fine, I'll watch over Bran and Rickon by myself today - but if Father asks me, I'm telling him you skipped on your own!"

His brother whispered his shouts to avoid attracting attention from the rest of the keep, but Robb was already on his horse and raced out of the gates before he finished. He couldn't want to see you - his girl, his fairy, his mythic love.

Robb soon reached a part of the forest known to only very few in the North - his father included. The Starks were not only the Wardens of the North but the keeper of its ancient secrets.

Once he rode past the invisible barrier - accessible by those that carry the blood of House Stark - the wintery abode filled with white snow and blue ice melted away to a world of iridescent green trees and a kaleidoscope of colors eternally blooming. He finally saw the red leaves of the ancient weirwood tree whose twin linked your worlds together. Under the magnificent branches, he felt an explosion of love burst inside him at the sight of you.

You - his one and only love - sitting on the gnarled and overgrown roots of your tree. Your feet were bare as you only wore simple white linen dress that hugged your curves beautifully. He saw the flowers and small buds braided into your dark, wavy, umber-brown tresses.

"Fairy!"

Robb called out the nickname he had given you since he first met you in these woods as a child. He felt life flow inside him as he watched you turn around and saw the bright smile spread across your face. As soon as he was close enough, he slowed his steed to stop before jumping off and racing to the ancient tree where you and him would rendezvous in secret.

"Robb!" you called out. You waved in excitement before lightly jogging forward to meet him halfway.

Robb immediately took you in his arms and held you in a tight embrace. He pressed his nose into your locks and breathed in the lavender and wild grass notes. He felt time slow down until it seemed like the whole world stopped. Robb knew such a thing was impossible, but he thought many things were impossible before meeting you.

You slightly nudged him away until his face slightly hovered above yours. On your tiptoes, until they dug into the soft dirt beneath you, you firmly pressed your lips to his and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your mortal lover gladly reciprocated and tightened his arms around your waist until your chests were firmly pressed against each other.

When you finally parted for air, Robb lovingly stared at how beautifully flushed your cheeks became. He watched in a lust-ridden gaze at how your fingers swiftly undid the ties in front of your dress. He felt his breath stop as the garment pooled at your feet. Your body was completely bare and unclothed, and your skin was unmarred and looked silky-soft. You took his hand and held it at your breast - he could feel how fast and hard your heart was beating.

He wondered if you even knew how much of his breath you took away.

"I want to feel you, my love," you whispered. "Just us, under our tree, where only the witnesses of our love are our gods."

Robb choked back a groan. If he felt his cock growing hard at the sight of your skin, your words made his cock weep for your wet walls.

Gods, he loved you so much - how could he refuse?

Hurriedly, he took off his cloak and laid it down on the ground before removing his clothes with your help; Robb was just as bare and naked as you were. You gasped at the sight of him.

How could one man be so beautiful? How did such beauty become possible? How blessed were you to receive his love?

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, and your lips parted to grant his access to fully devour you. When it felt like you would collapse from the lack of air, his lips trailed down your neck. You heard him murmur against your skin.

"I love you."

He repeated it over and over again, and your breathing became heavier as he continued to trail down. On the tops of your breasts, he deeply breathed the addictive perfume of your skin and began to lay kisses within the valley. His gentle hands roamed and caressed your skin with so much tenderness as his fingers reached that soaked spot between your plush thighs. He slowly slid his fingers inside you, and he growled at how much your slick arousal coated his calloused fingers.

You, on the other hand, felt completely lost in the sea of pleasure Robb was drowning you in. He was gentle. He always was with you, but today...it felt like he was the one who would completely fall apart without you.

Despite you were in full knowledge that it was truly the opposite.

Because for all of his Northern roughness, he was a man who loved with all his heart. He was utterly loyal to those he loved and cherished—a sentiment he shared especially with you, and you could not have been more grateful.

"I want to be here with you," he softly mumbled. "I could never want for anything else if I lived the rest of my life here, with you and our children. You, my pretty fairy, as the mother of my children, and me, your loyal wolf, forever protecting you."

He felt your core clench at his words as hot pleasure shot up your spine. It was a dream the two of you often shared - a life without obligations or duty, no fussy mothers or pushy fathers to stand in your way, and no empty and bleak futures looming over you. A life where it was just the two of you, riding through your forest with your horses, the woods filled with the laughter of your children. And when the day ended, the night would be filled with endless pleasure as your thoughts would only be full of him and his full of you.

You tenderly stroked the curls from his face as you felt the dam holding your pleasure slowly breaking.

Your chest was heaving. "It will, my sweet wolf," you promised. "Ours is a love no one can take away—the gods have shown it to me. After all, our gods are the ones who brought us together in the first place."

It was not long until you completely fell apart and gushed over his fingers. Your back arched as you coated your inner thighs and his fingers with your slick. Robb huskily chuckled as he pressed kisses down your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. Your fingers intertwine with his lovely, auburn curls in an attempt to anchor yourself to this material plane.

"Lie down," he softly ordered. "I won't take you against the harsh bark of a tree."

"Oh, but on your cloak in the dirt is an acceptable alternative?" you teased despite lowering against the soft, dark furs of your lover's fine cloak.

He smirks at your mirth as he crawls toward you. His perfect form hovering over you as if you were prey and he was about to devour you whole.

"Of course," he confirmed. "After all, I plan to take you on it until the only word you know how to say is my name, and the furs soak up all of your cum until it's all I can smell on it until the end of time."

Biting your bottom lip in anticipation, you could hardly wait for him to make good on his promise.

Robb aligns his cock at your entrance, its head red and its tip leaking with precum, as he slowly pushes inside you as wraps his hand in yours. He was only halfway inside you before he fully pushed himself in and completely bottomed out.

You cried as white, hot pleasure shot up your spine and flooded every nerve in your body. You felt so full and could hardly wrap your head around the fact that you and Robb's bodies were joined together as one.

"Fuckin'- fuck," he gasps out. "How is it you're so tight every time I take you?"

"Because I'm yours, Robb," you answered breathlessly. "My body was made for you as yours was made for me. Such pleasures could only exist between us - us and no one else."

Feeling the pool of pleasure in his stomach overflowing at your words, Robb begins to slowly thrust - in and out - until he reaches a steady rhythm that makes you senselessly babble as you feel your body becoming dull to everything but Robb. You felt every slow drag of his hips, every lingering trail of his touch, every hot breath on your skin, and you wondered how one man could make you feel so good.

He hits that spot inside you—the one that makes you see stars that only he could reach. Your eyes roll back, and you beg him to kiss you. A wish he complies without question—because what is his purpose if not to grant your every wish in his power?

It isn't long until he feels your walls clenching around his cock, and he can feel his control quickly slipping.

"Fairy, my fairy," he pleads against your lips. "'m close, 'm cumming."

"In-inside, my love," you beg. "I want you to spill your seed inside me. Let it take root in my womb, and our child grow."

Your grip on his hand tightens as your love's thrusts become quicker and sloppy, and he hits that spot inside you even more harshly and roughly. You scream as your walls clamp down on his member as your arousal spills out and coats his cock. He quickly follows after you, pushing himself as deep as he can to fill your womb with his seed as a groan resonates deep within his chest.

Despite the exhaustion flooding his muscles, Robb does not collapse atop you or pull out. Instead, he presses a soft kiss on your sweaty temple and lies by your side. He holds you close and breathily chuckles at how close to sleep you look in his arms. He places a small peck on your nose and smiles at how it scrunches so adorably.

"Rest now, my love. I'll be here when you wake."

You let out a loud yawn. "Good...believe it or not, this isn't what I had planned for us."

"Oh? And what were we supposed to do before you...distracted me?"

Robb raises his brow before smirking at the memory of how you initiated seducing him. You swatted his arm.

"My mare successfully gave birth to a foal. He's so beautiful - a red and white coat. I already love him."

"Have you named him?"

"Yes, Kodak."

Robb wanted to ask why you decided to name him that of all things, but you were burrowed in his chest - already in a deep sleep. With a content smile, he followed suit and met you in a dream. A beautiful dream where it was just you, him, your children, and 'Kodak.' All of you laughing and smiling in your beloved woods.

Underneath the weirwood tree, you and he met all those years ago - when you were still a sprite, and he was still a boy. Underneath the weirwood where Robb saw you for the first time, and he swore to the Old Gods and New that he would love only you for the rest of his life.

A promise he swore then, a promise he still keeps, and a promise that remains true until his last breath.

@dipperscavern, if you've died from an overload of fluff and love delulu fantasies...then I've done my job

#robb stark x reader #robb stark smut #robb stark imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones #robb stark #forest fairy #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf

[seoliee]

Driving Fear Into Your Heart

Word Count: 2.7k words

Pairing: X x Reader

TW: Cursing, Kidnapping, Stabbing, Yandere Tendencies (Pls read smth else if not comfortable)

A/N: I said this was inspired by X's halloween theme skin, but idk this maybe how I perceived it instead? Anyhow, lemme know y'all thoughts <3

In a dark and hollow forest somewhere near the city. Where only fragments of moonlight shone through the small crevices of the tall trees branches and its leaves. It was eerily silent, until swaying locks of hair pass through the bushes in a haste.

A girl ran barefooted, cracking sounds of dried leaves filled her hearing, leaving a trail behind. Her complexion was pale, fear stricken and distressed. Her body felt sore and drained, it was only sheer adrenaline that made her push through.

Her feet were starting to hurt, forming small cuts and bruises on the sole. She has to stop running at some point, but she can't. Not when she's running for her life.

~*4 days ago*~

She was in the cafeteria, sitting along with her friend at their usual booth and chatting about ramdom stuff. Just like the usual. She was attentively listening when her childhood friend X, came into view along with his own fair share of group.

She found herself falling out of the conversation and instead decided to watch him from a distance. Only did her friend's voice broke her out of the trance with a small nudge.

"Don't stare at him too much or he'll melt." Her friend says teasingly, chuckling at her obvious crush at the lab nerd.

"I-I wasn't staring!" She quickly rebukes her claim, though her blood red cheeks and ear were contradicting it.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Anyway.." Her friend's tone suddenly became serious, which made her get a bit confused as her friend seldom becomes serious during their conversations. "Have you heard about the kidnappings that's happening near the university recently?"

She shakes her head. She's been too absorbed on finishing her research paper these past few days that she blocked out any kind of gossips or news that would distract her from concentrating. She even went as far as to cancel all her plans of hanging out with X.

"There were a total of three missing cases reported and all of them were  students of different universities near our campus."

"The authorities haven't gotten a single clue whether it's a solo or a group operation. Either way, the kidnappers are still out there so do be careful."

Her warning sent a chill down her spine, terrified that such happenings were happening near them. Those poor students, she hopes that they were at least safe and alive.

She sent her friend a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand in a comforting way. "Don't worry. I always walk home with X anyway. You should be careful too."

"Oh, I'll be fine. Besides, I'm going on a date with y'know who later..." Her friend managed to light up the mood immediately by redirecting into another topic that she knew, she would interested in.

"What?? Since when? Tell me the fucking details!" She exclaims hysterically, practically slapping her hands down on the table earning a few strange looks from the people around them. She couldn't care less though.

Alas, the final bell rang throughout the halls signaling the end of the day. Tired groans from her fellow students and a few hastily gathers up their things, wanting to leave immediately.

As for her, she's delighted to walk home with him again after for so long only to be met with disappoinment.

"Sorry, (Y/n). I promised the guys I would hang out with them afterschool so I won't be able to walk you home." X says apologetically, a troubled smile grazing his handsome features.

He could see how your bright and grinning gorgeous face warps into a look of disappointment, making him feel guilty. "I can cancel it though. I'd rather be with you anyway."

The disappointment in her face quickly turns into a sheepish smile as she shook her head for a no. "No, it's alright. I can walk home with my friend instead." She obviously can't make him cancel his plans just for her satisfaction. After all, he has a life of his own.

"You sure? I could really—"

"Hey, X! You coming or what?!" One of his friends yells from a far, having an impatient look while the others grin at him in a teasing manner as they watch the scene unfold.

"Be there in a sec!" He yells back in response, looking over his shoulders with his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He looked back at her in disbelief. "Sorry about that. I gotta go. Remember to text me once you got home, okay?"

"I will." She chuckles, fondly grinning as light pink hue flows to her cheeks. This made X's heart softened, huffing a tiny chuckle as he brush a stray hair behind her ear.

"Be safe, my little lamb."

She watches as he ran up to his friends, some of them teasing him for the little moment they had. She's glad to know he found good friends despite his peculiar personality, he meant well.

~•~

After getting off the bus, the way to her apartment was already a bit dark and somewhat silent than usual at her on time arrival at dawn. Though, that's to be expected as she's staying in a peaceful neighborhood which she should be thankful for.

The soles of her shoes clicks on the pavement on each step she makes, the soft cold breeze of air moving past her ear as chills ran down her spine. Her surroundings were dark, the only light present were from the flickering street lights and the moon above her, which she thinks added to her paranoia.

She doesn't know if it's because she isn't used to walking home alone or is there someone watching her? She swore she could feel eyes from everywhere around her.

As she turned to a corner, footsteps sudden came to light from behind. She didn't thought anything of it, as it could be a passerby or a neighbor. Thankfully, she's near to her home so she briskly walked and much to her surprise, the person behind her began to speed up.

This set off alarm bells in her head, once she could see the light from her porch. She began to ran and screamed for help. However, all hope is lost once she felt a sharp pain struck behind her head as darkness engulf her sight.

~*~

A horrible stench whapped into her nose, as consciousness slowly seeped back into her figure. She pry her eyes open, blinking away the drowsiness as her vision clears up and able to take in her surroundings.

She's sat in the corner of a crusty room, the wallpapers were ripped and moldy. The pipes above her were leaking with merky water which where the awful stench came from. The windows in the room were boarded, as nothing but the gush of wind and crickets were heard from the outside.

She tried to move, but found it difficult as her wrists were tightly bounded together from behind to a pipe. She found it quite hard to breath because of the tight cloth on her lips. Panic fills her body as she heard heavy footsteps, and an unknown man had entered the room.

She glares at him, which made him smirk at her feistiness. He bends down to her eye level, and pats her head. "You're a pretty one, aren't you?"

His breath fans to her face, which made her feel nauseous and wants to puke at the horrible smell of alcohol and poor oral hygiene coming from him. He took off the cloth that's covering her mouth and traced his disgusting thumb across her bottom lip.

She didn't hesitate to bite down on his finger, hard enough to make him scream and recoil his hand away as blood rushes out of the bite. The man was furious and smashed the bottle of alcohol in his hand and points the severed half towards her.

"Don't fuck with me, woman. I can—" He was cut off when he heard a buzz coming from his phone. He clicked his tongue and immediately answers the phone, proceeding to leave the room.

Once he's out of sight, all the energy seeped out of her body as hot tears rushes down her cheeks. Tears trickle down to her knees, as she kept her mouth close to silent her ugly sobs. Her chest felt so tight, she's scared, deeply scared. She didn't think something like this could happen to her. Not when after being warned by her friend.

Then, she saw a faint glimmer from her peripheral vision. She looks up and saw a piece of broken glass from the bottle near her. She uses her foot to reach towards the shard and manages to push it to her side and tries her best to grab it.

Once she successfully got it, she began to slowly cut the rope, but found it to be quite thick and tough for the nibble blade.

It took her roughly 3 days before she could finally cut the rope because she was constantly interrupted by people coming in and sometimes watching over her. She felt drained as she refused to eat anything they gave her, but it didn't matter because she'll be out of her in no time.

She pushed her body up, and slowly walked up to the door, careful not to make any noise. She turns the knob and opens a small gap to peek. It was silent and there was only one man outside, and he was sleeping soundly, practically snoring.

She gently swing the door open, careful to not make it creek as she steps out of the room. She held in her breath as she began to take light steps behind the sleeping man. She sucked in her breath as the man began to turn in his sleep, rendering her still as she kept her eyes on him. Once she deemed it was safe, she continues her way to the door.

She steps out into the cold night, as a smile finally crept to her lips, tasting her freedom. Only for panic to once again surge as one of the men guarding outside saw her and calls to her, alerting the others.

She didn't think twice and ran into the dark woods. She didn't mind if twigs poked the sole of her feet, nor if she stepped on pointed pebbles. She just ran wherever she could, taking sharp turns to confuse her captors.

She could hear their voices getting farther, but she knows she shouldn't celebrate yet as the woods were hollow and wasn't sure if she's heading towards civilization or deeper in.

Her speed slow down as her adrenaline began to dissipate, she's breathless and looks around for any source of life. Much to her surprise, a hand had grabbed her wrist and instinctively she swipped her hand forcefully and elbows whoever it is.

The person grunts and moans in pain, the voice was oddly familiar. The person lights up their phone to their face, and soon she was able to make out who he was.

"You pack a mean elbow, little lamb." X smiles, chuckling despite the stinging pain on his nose. "Makes me think you didn't actually needed me."

His face quickly transforms into a scowl, looking back once he heard numerous of voices barking behind them. Without another word, he took her wrist and guided her out of the woods.

She saw his motorcycle parked by the side of the road, she hopped on and X quickly stepped onto the pedal as they drove away.

Her hands tightly hugged the small of his waist, leaning her head against his broad back as she tries to catch her breath. Her feet were in pain as well as her whole body. She couldn't stop shaking, as she cried on his back.

She felt his hand comfortably brush against hers, which sent butterflies inside her stomach flutter in ease.

"How.. did you find me?" She asks, keeping her head close to his back and listens to his faint heartbeat.

"I finally managed to track your gps using my phone and followed its location." He replies, keeping his voice low and words consise. "Sorry it took me a while. I had to first know your ips before managing to connect. Thank god, your phone is in working order too or I won't be able to track you."

His words flew into her ear, but she couldn't make sense of it as her energy began to lower that's she finding it difficult to keep her eyes open. "Thank you, X."

"No worries. After all, you know I'm always here for you." She could hear the usual smile in his voice. She finally lets herself rest and is unable to hear his next words.

"And I'm all that you need, and no one else matters, my little lamb."

A sickening and sadistic smile curls up to his lips, chuckling lowly.

~•~

X dumps a bucket full of cold water down on the unconscious person tied up to a chair infront of him. The man, jolts awake and flickers his eyes up at X.

"Good, good. You're finally awake. Did you slept well?" X muses, keeping the usual permanent smile on his face.

The man didn't bother to answer, starting to wiggle his way out of the chair in panic. X was displeased by this, but made no action and instead clicked his tongue.

The man finally stopped trying, his energy running low. "You bastard! Why are you doing this, X?! Let me go!"

The man's voice was irritating to X's ears, but he was glad to respond to his question in a simple and conventional manner.

X had walked up to the nearby switch and flicks it. Light began to shine on the wall littered with pictures. Pictures of (Y/n). His cheeks reddens as he took a step closer to the wall, his eyes flickering at each picture he took throughout the years in complete secrecy.

"Don't you think she's beautiful?" X asks the man, which confuses him and found the revelation quite disturbing.

"W-What...?"

"You asked why I'm doing this and it's because of her." X says, turning towards him once more. He took a step closer to a nearby table, his hand brushing against each tool on it. "I am merely protecting her from the filth swarming around her and trying to take what's mine..."

X grips the handle of a sharp and bloodied knife in his hand, taking slow steps towards the now frantic man who's eyes are filled with terror as he tries to reason with him.

X stops infront of him, bending down to his eye level. He moves his face closer to him, keeping his heterochromatic eyes into the man's terrified and shaking ones, a sadistic smile slowly forming on his lips. "This wouldn't have happened if you just kept your distance from her and not end up in the same predicament like the others..."

X had driven the knife into the man's throat, and pulls it back out. He watches as the man gurgle in his own blood rushing out of his mouth. He continues his attack until he was satisfied.

He only stopped a buzz emits in his pocket that came from his phone. With his bloodied hand, he tapped the screen and answers the caller.

"You got her? That's good news!" X muses, as he nods at the following sentences from the person in the other line.

His eyes flickers down to the mutilated and lifeless man in front of him, blood pours down onto the ground and pools around his shoes. He clicked his tongue, thinking he made quite a mess this time.

"Yeah yeah, I got it. Remember, don't touch her. Unless, you got a death wish." X warns before ending the call. He began to walk towards the wall swapped with photos of you, filling his heart with love and feeling of ease.

"Sorry, my little lamb. You just have to learn the hard way this time." X took a certain picture from the wall, looking down on it with a soft eyes and smile. It was a picture of them back when they were still children.

"And this time, with driving fear into your heart. You'll realize that I'm the only you'll ever need and trust after I come and save you."

~•~

I think I flunked this lol.

Thanks for reading though <3

Happy holidays everyone!!!

#reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 x x reader #reverse 1999 x #r1999 x #x r1999 #reverse 1999 #r1999

[mysterious-gizem]

𝚂𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍

Part 1:

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Giant’s

For years giants hid from the human race, a small yet brutal and chaotic species. Until eventually the giant race grew to realize they could overthrow the human's easily, human's were cocky, they couldn't accept that they weren't top of the food chain anymore.

Oh, that was their first mistake.

The giant's only requested equality.

Yet, human's waged a war against beings that were stronger, faster, and ofcourse, bigger.

And that was the second mistake, upon many more they would make.

Giant’s prevailed, ofcourse. This time the human's were the ones hiding, small human civilizations stayed strong, deciding to fight back against the giant's. The giant's respected the effort and proposed a peace treaty.

Most of humanity instantly agreed, a few were stubborn and believed that if humans were on top before, they could do it again.

~◇~

"So you're seriously not gonna eat us?" The brunette hesitantly asked the giant, the giant was just rather relieved that both the humans weren't crying or defensively screaming at him like a few minutes ago.

"L-Look, they forcefeed me human's here, just so they can get rid of other humans they find...inadequate." The taller sighed, "Honestly, it's a miracle they didn't make me eat you." The way the giant said it so casually set some unease upon the two men.

"W-Well I'm Dream, what about you guys?"

Small talk, okay, this might help out our situation.

"I'm George, this is Sapnap." George said whilst addressing to the raven haired male, who was holding him in a protective matter. Sapnap seemed to ease up easily to Dream, George was still rather hesitant yet he considered his situation at the moment and theres really no reason the giant should be nice to them.

"It's nice having company..." Dream blurted out, Sapnap stared up to be met with those unruly bright green eyes, it being the only feature they can get from the other with dim lighting; Sapnap coughed, "How long have you been...down here?"

Silence, it wasn't fairly long, but it was eerie nonetheless.

"Maybe a few months? I don't know, they gave me a clock but it was too small for me to read so they took it away." The giant explained solemnly. "Best if you get comfy, until you guys can escape, it's not safe." Both humans quietly listened as they began to tiredly spur out ideas on how they could possibly escape.

Hour's have passed, both human's falling comfortably asleep side by side eachother, Dream looked down on them, uncomfortably shifting ever so often; afraid of crushing them on accident, the area was too small, if he kneeled his head would already be pushing up on the ceiling. With two other people to worry about he felt even more cramped.

~◇~

George stirred awake, groaning at the pain that his entire body was currently recieving, the brunette realized Sapnap wasn't near him; his senses became more clear, recognizing a few familiar chattering voices.

"-And suddenly, BAM! George shot an arrow through the zombies head, it was so cool since the forest was on fire and he could still hit the zombie even with his bulky weird goggles." Sapnap giggled.

"What!?"

Dream and Sapnap snapped their attention to the now annoyed brunette, "My goggles aren't weird! They help keep the sun from hurting my eyes when I'm trying to shoot something." He huffed. A raspy chuckle came from the giant as he watched the two humans, it's the most entertaining thing he's seen in a while.

As the raven haired man and brunette bickered a loud rumble interrupted them which caught them off gaurd. They both stared at Dream, who was embarrassed, the giant was avoiding their gaze. "Sorry..." He mumbled. "Do they really not feed you daily?" Sapnap grumbled.

"No- but I've gotten used to not eating for while."

It's been a long, long while...

"They basically took everything off of us besides clothes..." George announced while patting down his pockets. "Look I think we need to keep thinking of a way on how to get you two outta here." Dream said while biting down his lower lip anxiously.

"Sapnap said we could try luring the gaurds in a rushing out, but what about you?" The brunette asked the giant, "I'll be fine we just need to get you guys out." George nodded, not wanting to pry on why he was so persistent of getting them to leave.

Sapnap interjected, "Actually I was thinking about it, that Quackity guys probably thinks were dead. If were the one's making a commotion the gaurds might just inform duck man instead." Dream listened carefully to the human's conversation. "How do we even know if the gaurds can hear us?" The brunette asked, "For all we know this room is sound proof."

The brunette turned to Dream, "What can you tell us about this place?" Startled by the sudden question; Dream thought for a moment. "I-I don't know much, Sir comes visit once a month, and he observes me whenever he makes me eat someone..." Dream mumbled, feeling guilty he couldn't provide more insight.

"Okay...we need more time to figure out a plan..."

Time...

Dream suddenly grew more worrisome, while George and Sapnap were oblivious to it; Dream figeted with his fingers, he silently thought of his own plan on how he could get his new friends out of this gruesome, cruel place.

Plip...

Plop...

Plip...

Plop...

Water

George speculated the liquid that dripped on him, suddenly gaining an idea.

"Dream, do you know what's above you? We're obviously underground but what's above the ceiling." The giant thinks for a moment, "I-I think it's like a lake maybe, or perhaps a waterhole?"

"Hey Dream is it alright if we climb up your knee so we can take a look at the ceiling?" The giant nodded as he positioned himself properly. George grabbed the fabric of the giant's jeans as he began to climb, Sapnap following suit.

George began to press his hands against the dirt ceiling, some small rocks and pebbles were practically the only thing that was holding it together; plus the tension aswell ofcourse. "Hey Sap do you think Dream could break through this?" Hearing his name Dream snapped his attention towards the two men.

"Hell yeah, Dream's definitely strong enough to break through that." George pondered for a moment, "So Dream have you ever tried breaking the ceiling." "No- didn't wanna risk anything, they already barely feed me. I don't know what's really up there, the lake might be surrounded by gaurds for all I know."

"Well we gotta try right? You've been here for months! Probably already developed scoliosis." The brunette explained, "Me and George can hold onto your clothes or something while you push the ground upward."

"Sure? L-Like now?" Dream asked as he shifted uncomfortably. "Better now then never right?" Sapnap snickered as he clung himself on Dream's shoulder while George clung on the other. Dream took a deep breath before positioning his arms.

He grit his teeth as his muscles tensed, the ceiling slowly giving out. Dream panicked as he thought the room was going to cave in, with a rush of adrenaline he gave punch upwards and he hauled himself up, the water dropping down into the room below making the area shake. They were all soaked and it was around mid-day the sunlight burned their eyes yet Dream picked himself up and ran.

George and Sapnap were still tightly clinging onto the man, the giant being kind enough to make sure they didn't fall aswell. Once they reached deep into a spruce forest the giants knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

Sapnap and George both climbed down, fixing themselves at the same time. The two cheered as they turned around to congratulate the giant.

The human's eyes widened in shock and amazement, this was the first time they both got an actual look at the giant before them.

Dream had dirty, unkept hair, George wasn't too sure if it was blond or brown. The bright green eyes that illuminated were now looking a more natural forest green, his clothes were ripped and dirty, overall the giant looked like a wreck.

"Yo man, you alright?" Sapnap tilted his head as he watched the blond raise his head.

The giant bared his teeth, "I-I gotta go."

The two males watched as the giant stood up and fled, both looking at eachother with a worried gaze, pursing they lips and hoped they would meet the giant once again.

As fate would have it, they would.

It was inevitable.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Yoo, I finally got an idea for part 2, Sheena helped me a lot TwT. I got a bit lazy at the end(sorry lmao)

@random-shit-writing

(Honestly, idk if you still wanted to be tagged)

#giant!dream #tiny!sapnap #tiny!george #g/t writing #dsmp g/t #tiny!quackity #but he's kinda only mentioned #giant/tiny #g/t #gt #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #idk what other tags to add

[edupunkn00b]

Progression, Chapter 6: Eyes Closed

Photo by edupunkn00b

Prev - Eyes Closed - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

The Muse finds someone who needs his help. Written for @imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper's @dukeceit-week-2024, Day 6: Body Swap WC: 1303 - CW: a child in peril, minor character deaths (unnamed characters, not the child) A little mind-bendy (that's a bit of a given with Remus' Illusion powers, though.)

The Muse ran.

Broken bits of brick from the latest building lost to ivy battered bare feet and the tangled underbrush threatened to drag him to the ground. He stumbled, feet wetted with crushed moss and blood slipping on the forest floor.

“I see you!” A deep voice sing-songed and echoed against the trees, laughter coming from everywhere at once. "You can't hide from us!"

His lungs burned and he’d lost count of the scratches and bruises on his shins, his arms, his face. They’d first spotted him at dusk down by the creek and he’d been on the run ever since. Every time he thought he’d escaped, every time he thought he’d hidden well enough and long enough, they’d see him trying to sneak away and once again, they’d pick up their hunt through the dark woods.

He dodged to the left, crashing blindly into the thicket and hoping it might slow his much larger pursuers. Thorns grabbed at his skirt, tearing at his skin but he kept running.

His skirt?

The Muse forced his eyes open and stared up at the bright ceiling lights in his room. No, not his skirt… there was someone else. Someone close. Someone hurt. 

But they were getting further away and it was getting harder to fight through the buzzing shield around his room. The Muse rolled onto his stomach. His hands and knees were scraped raw, muscles screaming under the strain of movement. When he closed his eyes, he saw the forest, tasted the moss and dirt. And blood.

Inch by inch, he dragged himself to his door. Using first the handle, then the frame, he pulled himself to his feet and palmed the control. His own weight pushed the door open and he fell past the shield and out into the hallway.

Color and light and ice and fire consumed him and filled him to bursting. The world crackled through his nerves, through every cell. A tiny child laughing, clapping her hands when her doll sang. A couple yelling horrible things to each other, unbreakable dishes crashing against the wall and bouncing off back at them. The rush of air as a man fell. Fingers torn and bleeding and…

The Muse shook his head, searching for the girl in the woods. Her sweater had been itchy, sticky with sweat but it protected her arms so she kept it on. Feet numb, knees bleeding, she shivered now, tucked between gnarled tree roots, a crook filled with mold and petrified rat droppings. She pressed both hands to her mouth, muffling her pants as large men—Powereds, too, too large to be Traditionals—tromped over her hiding place.

-”Jannie…”- he pushed past the sharp static of Jannie’s usual shield. He wasn’t supposed to, he knew he wasn't supposed to, that it hurt them both when he did, but this was important. Cold ice slashed at his mind as the static broke. -”Jannie! Jannie, help us…”- His eyes fell shut again as the vision took him.

~

“Love?” Luc’s voice was so very far away. “Love… wake up!” Orange light bled through Janus’s eyelids and he burrowed deeper under the covers, hiding from the soft hand shaking his shoulder, the insistent voices in his head. “Jan!”

-”Jannie…”- The desperation in The Muse’s voice finally pulled him from his dream—nightmare? No, not a dream. -”Jannie, help us!”-

“The Muse is out,” Janus mumbled, shivering under the warmth of their comforter.

“I know, love,” Luc nodded, hands warm at his shoulder, his cheek. Janus finally opened his eyes and noticed the bright glow of Luc’s. “You were…” 

Janus became aware of the tears streaming down his face, his neck. The pillow was soaked. His throat was raw and his palms bleeding from tiny half-moon impressions. 

Luc’s eyes dimmed and he brushed gentle fingers over Janus’ cheekbone. “You were…inconsolable without…” His voice shook and he let his hand fall away. Janus’ heart thudded in his chest at the lost contact, a bird fighting its way out of its cage.

“It’s okay…” He swallowed back a sob, the temporary easement of Luc’s powers letting through the full force of everything The Muse shared. He nodded, chasing his hand. “It—than—thank you. He—”

Luc touched him again and Janus smiled, accepting his power. He sucked in a breath and met Luc’s bright orange eyes. “He needs me,” he whispered, already pushing away the covers.

“I know.”

~

-“Muse… Muse, can you hear me?”- Golden light flickered through the leaves and The Muse reached out from his hiding place, fingers scraping against lichen-covered bark.

“Jannie?” he called, high pitched and broken. And not nearly quiet enough.

“I found her!” Rough hands grabbed at him, pulling his hair and yanking him out from beneath the fallen tree. “Got you, you little—“

The man’s hands grazed bare skin and The Muse saw through his eyes now. A girl shivered before him, dress torn, hair matted with blood and dirt, rivers of tears marking her face. He released her and she dropped to the forest floor, curled in a ball.

Rage and pride coursed through his veins. Filthy lust. But Jannie was there, too, and strong, steady hands circled the faint strains of the man's guilt. Strangling it. Strengthening it.

The Muse pushed back against the foul thoughts in the man’s head and shared with him the girl’s fear, the sting and burn of her cuts, the fire in an ankle that surely must be broken.

The man staggered under the weight of it. “No, please,” he muttered. “Stop!” To The Muse or to Jannie. Or maybe to himself.

They didn’t stop. The Muse pressed both hands to the man’s head and pushed in everything he'd seen. The fighting couple. The child who’d touched a stove. The man who’d fallen—jumped?—from the factory ladder. Another man, hungry and cold, sifting through the bins outside the same factory.

Everything.

He pushed it all into the pursuer’s head. With a strangled cry, he dropped to the forest floor. His friends ran to his body and The Muse touched each of them in turn, adding the memories of the one who fell before him until the bodies of a half dozen Powered rogues lay in a heap around the little girl.

-”Go home,”- he said to her as gently as he could.

Crying, she stumbled away from the men's bodies. The Muse stayed with her until she reached the edge of town and the world around him faded to black.

~

The floor was cool against The Muse’s back and a soft blanket had been draped over his chest. Fresh stitches itched his hands and his legs. He opened his eyes just in time to see Papa Bear slip through the door, leaving him alone with Jannie.

Jannie’s hand—his bare hand! He’d taken off his gloves and just touched him—his hand was so warm and curved perfectly over his cheek. The Muse melted into the touch, the warmth. Jannie brushed away the tears leaking from his eyes. “I got ‘em, Jannie,” he whispered. “I got ‘em all.” It was important he say it. The words made it real, made the vision real. It was all real. He'd made it real and he’d done something good this time.

“I know,” Jannie said aloud, voice breaking. “Ro and Virge found the girl and brought her to her parents.”

The Muse smiled, wincing at the tug of stitches he hadn’t noticed along his jaw. -“We did it”-

“We did,” Jannie said, so quiet The Muse had to strain to hear. “Rest now, Muse. Rest…” His eyes were half-closed when Jannie slowly pushed up to his feet and shuffled to the door.

As the door sighed closed, the last thing The Muse saw was Jannie falling into Lucas’ arms, the hallway lit in the bright orange glow of his eyes.

#Progression #ts remus #ts janus #ts lucas #Meus ex Machina #The Mad Lads Universe #dukeceit #demus #platonic dukeceit #superpowers #janus sanders #remus sanders #lucas sanders #examines fingernails through gloves‚ what do you mean‚ of course this chapter is on time

[ashippingpotato]

Short Klance fanfic

Lances pov

“Alright everyone” Allura’s voice comes from the coms “ we have landed on planet exsplareus. Feel free to explore, me and Caran have to attend meeting with the planet’s inhabitants but it will only take a few vargas (hours)”

I step up from my place on my bed. I was just about to try and get a nap in, sense I haven’t gotten enough sleep because of the nightmares I had been having for a few months. But I know that will almost be impossible because of the thoughts swirling in my mind. I get dressed in better clothes then my pj’s including my white and blue long sleeve my normal green jacket and some blue jeans. I walk out my door just to immediately step back before I can run into the Keith that’s walking past my door. (Yes I wrote it like that on purpose) He also stops in his tracks and looks at me before muttering a quick “watch were your going” And heading off. I can’t help admiring as his mullet bounces slightly, reflecting the castle lights.

I decided to not pay too much attention to it and keep on my way. (I don’t know much of the castle’s anatomy so I’m just going to start off when he stepped outside sorry) I slowly step into what can be considered the planet’s grass. It’s a light turquoise color. I bend down and slowly wave my hand in the unusually soft surface.

I set out on a slow walk taking in the planet for all its glory. As I walk further away from the castle I start to see a few dips that come up later in the land like hills. In the distance to my right I see a few tree like shapes coming out of the ground. Only a tad of a shade darker turquoise then the grass.

I suddenly stumble on a little rock. Just to see a hill taller than the rest of the ones that I have seen. I start to climb the noticeably steeper ground. As I start to get to the top of the small grassy mountain I start to see a flower like things, slightly blowing in the nice breeze.

As I reach the top of the hill, I get a better look at them. The stem is a normal earth stem green that slowly fades into a dark purple that almost completely covers the leaves. The actual flower part is a striking black and white stripe pattern,it kinda reminds me of the zebras on earth.

I sit down criss cross to examine the plant further when I hear a small yelp that stops my train of thought. It came from my left side, it was soft but just loud enough to hear it. I lean to the side to try to see where the small sound came from.

I look just a bit over the top of the hill to see an almost fox like creature. It had the body at a fox but instead of bright orange it was more on the red side. Its tail was made up of small feathers that have small yellow oval spots with a black center, And small rabbit like ears.

It looked like he also stumbled over a small rock, and was trying to regain its balance. When it stood up fully it looked me straight in the eye. It had big forest green eyes and if you looked into them long enough you could probably get lost. I just stayed still not really knowing what to do. As we stared at each other the softer its eyes became. It slowly got closer to me, more comfortable but still weary.

I simultaneously started to raise my hand to the creature. Right before I come in contact with the soft looking fur. It’s ear twitch, right after it does I start to hear footsteps, becoming louder and louder by the second. The creature then proceeds to run away. I lean back to my original spot, looking to my right I see a very recognizable messy black mullet.

I look down from the top of his head to his eyes, he in return sends me a piercing gaze. “Hey” I said quietly, not wanting to disturb anymore wild life. His gaze softens and he looks down at all of the unusually colored flowers that lay peacefully perched on the soft surface of the grass.

“Hi” he said softly, bending down to sit beside me. I look forward again “whatcha doing all the way over here” I asked I had figured he would be training like he always does. Maybe he came to check on me, I smiled at the thought. “Just taking a brake” he answered grimly, obviously upset about something. Any smile I had before now gone. I stared at the sky, this planet did not have an atmosphere that changes the color of the sky so it was all just darkness and stars.

Keith let out a shaky breath. “You ok” I asked the slightly shorter boy, concern dripping from my words. “Y-yeah” he answered, a little to quick for my liking. Suddenly a small subtle tear slips down his face. He quickly wipes it away with a red sleeve just for a few more to come out of the other eye.

He quickly turned to the right, hoping to hide the tears. I slowly reach my hand out to him, slightly jumping when he flinched away from the touch. I usually know how to handle sad people, but this was not just anyone this was Keith. The boy who didn’t know how to handle his feelings. The boy can easily take down six galra soldiers on his own with just a simple knife. The boy who makes my heart flutter every time, every time he yells at me, every time he fights, every time he gets too grumpy and stops out of the room. Every single time, no matter how much I try to stop it I just can’t and it’s killing me.

He starts to stand up but before he can start to walk away I grab his wrist. He looks back at me with the most devastating tear stained expression I have ever seen and it breaks my heart.

I stand up and take a few step towards him. I wipe away a stray tear that slipped past the walls protecting his heart. I slowly caress the scar on his right cheek. “I’m sorry” he says quietly ”for what?” I ask “everything” he answers simply. “Hey, hey, hey it’s ok ….. I forgave you a long time ago.”

I bend down, slowly dragging him with me. He does as shown and drops to the ground, still wiping some of the other tears. I open my arms wide inviting him into a warm hug. He hesitates at first but then starts to move into the touch.

“It’s ok to cry you know” I tell him trying to make him feel more comfortable. He nods slowly “c-can we s-stay here…. for a-awhile” he asked trying to make his voice stop shaking. “Yeah I would like that”

(A few Vargas (hours) later)

“Hey guys…….were are Lance and Keith?

THE END!!!!!!!

Let’s just say pidge went out to find them, she did indeed find them but before she woke them up she took pictures for blackmailing and of course to give to Allura because she is shipping master. And she (pidge) will never admit that she actually thought they were pretty cute together

Anyway sorry far any spelling and/or grammar mistakes (it is currently 1:57)

#klance #lgbtq+ #scenery #hinting at klance #voltron #fanfics #fanfiction #klance fanfiction #voltron fanfic #voltron fandom #fluff #pidge #allura

[randomwriteronline]

Nothing had worked in the end.

Linking hands, walking faster and faster, taking turns he'd long memorized, passing through clearings so quickly there was never any time for the illusions to start shaping themselves - everything, everything, he'd done everything right, with an iron grip around the younger hand, and still.

He turned in a panic as soon as he felt his empty palm being pierced by his own nails: a flash, bursts of colors between the leaves, and then everything that was not the green of foliage and the brown of ancient wood underneath moss and ivy was gone. His feet stumbled back, his eye jumping feverishly from one branch to the other, not even sure what he was looking for.

In a sudden second, he realized he had no idea which clearing this was, or which yawning dark hallway was the correct one.

The trees stared down at him.

"Oh no," Time only whispered feebly.

-

Whatever it was that was looking at him, it was quite the strange thing indeed.

It walked over to him unafraid, curious, rather puzzled to be quite honest, and stared up at his face intently as though to decode a most mysterious mystery.

"Hello," Hyrule greeted it.

It sniffed the air with its little snout intently; then, showing off its little pointy teeth, it simply asked: "What are you?"

Not very polite, but you cannot ask forest dwellers to have manners.

"My name is Link."

"You can't be Link," the little beast replied: "Link's not a fairy."

What a puzzling answer: "I'm not a fairy either."

"But you smell like one."

At that, Hyrule propped his hands on his hips: "Well, that's strange," he noted.

"It is!" the little one agreed.

"But my name is Link."

"No, it can't be."

"And why is that?"

"Because Link is my friend, and you don't look or smell like him."

"I see. You can call me Link, too, if you'd like. People call me like that."

"People are wrong."

"Is there only one Link in the world?"

"There's only one that matters to me, and it's my friend."

"So nobody else can have that name?"

"Not to me, no."

"Well, I'd still like it to be called Link every now and then."

"Then I guess I'll do that sometimes."

"And who are you?"

"Skull Kid."

"It's nice to meet you."

A sharp smile lit up the little snout, and the small feathers on its arms poofed and shook as it giggled happily.

"Nobody ever says it's nice to meet me," it said.

"How rude," Hyrule replied. As the beast laughed, he looked around, half hoping that the others would have returned to him by now; when it became clear they had not, and judging by the silence they were nowhere near him, he turned back to the creature: "Do you live here?"

"I do," Skull Kid nodded.

"Do you know the way out?"

"There's none."

He hummed: "Then do you know a way that takes me somewhere other than these woods?"

The impish thing laughed and clapped its clawed hands, overwhelmed with merriment: "You're clever, you're clever!" it praised the hero: "You're really clever, so I'll tell you! Yes, yes there is."

Hyrule watched as it pointed right in front of him, to a yawning abyss within a falled trunk that suddenly turned bright with dim light.

"Go straight on," it instructed him, "No turns or nothing. When you're done being in the Woods, then you'll come out."

"How do I know when I'm done?"

"When you don't want to be in the Woods anymore."

"Oh! I see, I see. Then it might take a while."

"Why so?"

"I was with friends, and they got lost too."

"Oh! Then they're not here anymore, not as they were."

"That's a bit pessimistic. They're brave and strong, and they're all called Link, too."

At that, the creature turned attentive: "All of them?"

"All of them."

"And is one of them my friend?"

"Perhaps one of them is."

"Oh! Oh! Then I'll get them back to you, if you let me and my friend stay here a while!"

"That depends," Hyrule replied, thoughtful: "How long is a while?"

"You don't need to worry about that."

"I would like not to, but we should go soon..."

"You don't need to worry about that!" Skull Kid insisted. "The Woods will make it last little, even if we stay together for days. I miss him a lot, you see... Then I'll give him back to you. I promise."

What a curious place this grove seemed to be.

In the end, Hyrule nodded: "Alright, you have my word."

"And you have mine!"

The little beast scurried off with a loud laugh, disappearing in an azure shadow; with nothing else to do but trust, the young man walked forth, just like he was told to do.

-

No sky above him, only leaves. Not even the Kikwi forest had been dense to the point of completely hiding the world within the clouds from his sight - and the rustling foliage moved by no wind made him more than a little nervous.

It seemed to be laughing, laughing gently, quietly, as he fruitlessly attempted to find a way through the way his senior had done.

Another arboreal murmuring was enough to test his patience.

"I'm trying," he complained to no one and nobody, "And none of you are being of any help, so please stop making fun of me."

"But it's fun," a voice replied.

Sky froze.

He looked left. He looked right. He spun in place.

Nobody.

His voice was much lower when he spoke again: "Hello?"

"Hello," no one replied.

His hand went to his sword: "Where are you?"

"Here," no one answered, unhelpfully. The childish sound seemed to come from everywhere around him.

"Here where?"

"I can see you," no one replied without acknowledging his question.

His head twisted in every direction, as quickly as possible.

Nobody.

A childish laughter filled the air.

"You're very funny," no one continued. "There's no way out, you know."

"And how are you sure?"

"Because I will eat you," no one explained, in a calm, airy tone, as though it was talking about the weather.

Sky froze again.

"You'll lose your skin soon," No One continued, the easy smile accompanying the voice almost visible, and the man was almost certain he could imagine his shapeless enemy kicking its feet with the whistful tranquillity of a child drawing pictures on the floor: "It'll fall off and melt into the earth, and I'll eat it. And then it will be the flesh, and then the eyes, and then all the gross things in your body - it'll all fall off onto the ground and I'll eat it."

"And my bones?" he asked, though he wasn't sure why or even if he wanted to know.

"Those will walk," No One replied. "Stalfos walk a lot. Until even your anger stops moving you, and then you'll crumble to the ground, and I'll eat your bones too."

"They will be sharp. And hard."

A crystalline child-like laugh was accompanied by the rustling of leaves. There was no breeze.

His interlocutor, then, was it...?

"Only thing I can't eat is rocks," No One said serenely: "Only thing that can kill me is fire. Are you tired yet? I'm hungry."

Sky remained perfectly still, terrified.

Nothing moved.

Suddenly, No One asked, in a different tone, as if it had remembered something only now: "Do people call you Link?"

What did it matter?

He nodded, agreeing feebly.

"Oh," No One said. It sounded disappointed. "Come here, then."

"Here where?" he dared to ask.

"Here," No One repeated. The voice was coming now from a darkened passage beneath two trees. Light that hadn't been there before was piercing through it. "Come here."

Slowly, terribly slowly, so slowly it felt like a whole day, Sky approached the passage.

Something gleamed from within.

Hyrule smiled at him as he too entered the clearing with a much more confident step when the knight finally passed through, the orange glint he thought he might have seen nowhere to be found.

"There you are," the traveler greeted him amiably, chipper, with the ease of someone taking a stroll.

Sky did not move.

They both waited a while.

"The Woods talked to me, I think," he murmured. "They said they were going to eat me."

Hyrule hummed thoughtfully.

"Let's find the others quickly, then," he only said.

His companion nodded, not in the mood to talk.

-

"Oh!"

Something rustled.

"It's you!"

Whatever it was, it sounded delighted. Sweet. Nostalgic.

Legend did not like that.

He walked faster. Had the clearing just gotten longer? Had the light dimmed on its own? Had the crowns of the trees lowered onto him? The air seemed heavier, harder to breathe in. The shrubbery seemed to be growing lusher and more suffocating. His eyes fought not to start watering. Cold sweat bubbled beneath his sleeves.

"You've grown so much!"

He turned quickly, hand on his sword.

The thing slowly coming closer was not scared. Not at all.

He could not tell what it was. Something about it reminded him of the Flute Boy, of his misshapen form in the Dark World, of the twists of the branches he'd petrified into; something about it reminded him of an animal, or a person, or a plant, or his uncle.

"Don't touch me," he growled.

The thing did not comply. Its gnarled hands laid on the blade's tip unafraid as it stared at him intently, facsimile of a face unmoving. Something about its stillness felt as though it was smiling at him radiantly.

"Hello," it said, with the love of a wetnurse. "It's been so long."

"I've never seen anything like you before," he hissed. He caught the sharp metal sinking ever so slightly into the neck as he thrusted it forward to scare it off of the weapon, and struggled to keep his hold still and firm.

The thing laughed gently: "Of course you have," it replied. Its hand reached up: "You were too little, maybe."

Legend shook his arm: the movement made it fall back a little as he took a step backwards.

"For what?"

"For remembering."

Were those leaves, on its face and limbs, arranged like feathers or fur shaping into colorful patterns? Were those eyes, or false spots on severed butterfly wings? Was there anything beneath the layers?

"I remember it," it reassured him sweetly; the sound of its childish voice, the way its face moved as it spoke to him without ever opening a mouth for the words to leave, frightened him more than anything else. "I remember it, if you don't. You are hard to forget, with how much you cried! Poor thing, how much you cried!"

Its gentle laugh chilled him.

A step back was met with a wall of bushes and ferns threatening to swallow him whole.

"But I kept you warm," it continued, so comforting, so horrifying as it advanced: "I kept you warm, and I did my best. I did my best. Even when that man came, I did my best. To keep him away."

Its hand mimed a slash far above its own head, a motion for striking something much taller, much bigger.

Their long nails sank through the air with a shriek.

Legend remembered his uncle's neck and the thin, long scars that reached far too close to his jugular for comfort.

It laughed again, sweet and kind, and reached for him as if to lift him from under his arms, in a way so unnatural for something so much smaller, so much younger than him.

"I'll keep you safe, I'll keep you safe," it reassured him. Empty wing-like eyes stared deep into him, hollow, perfectly still. "Now that you're back, I'll keep you safe."

He swung.

The sword cut through nothing, nothing at all.

He sunk further into the shrubbery, feet fumbling to keep him upright as the plantlife loomed all around him like a coddling embrace preceding a strangling; the thing, unharmed, so bright in its autumn hues against a world of green and misty blues, stretched out its arms and reached for him again.

"Don't touch me," he struggled to say, paler than the dead. Ivy kindly crawled at his feet. "Don't touch me. Don't - don't touch me."

"I'll keep you safe," it repeated. "I told them so, didn't I?"

"Them?" Legend rasped. "Them? Who?"

"Don't you remember? You were crying. You didn't like them. They were too cold." it stepped towards him, sharp nails reaching tenderly for his face, the yawning emptiness barely visible through gaps between the leaves trying to spiral him inside it with each word. "Far too cold."

The branches were enveloping him.

Softly, gently.

Like a parent's hold.

"I had to rip you from their arms."

He turned and ran.

He ran, and ran, and ran, far, far, far away, into the depths of the emerald foliage growing darker, darker, darker, not seeing anything beyond the sound of his own ragged breath trying to cover the call of his own name, too scared to notice that no briar or thorn ever lodged into his flesh, that the air was turning lighter, easier in his lungs, that the beams piercing the crowns high above him were brighter, that a soft strong body had stopped his maddened escape, that his shaking frame was held in hands scarred with lightning marks.

A sound like a familiar voice reached him, but he could not process words. He looked up: Sky's face replied with another preoccupied wave of gibberish.

"Go," Legend murmured finally: "Go. We need to go. Now. We need to. We need to go. Go. Now. Right now."

The other held him closer, letting him rest his head against him.

Hyrule said nothing; he gestured to follow, and walked a little faster.

-

The crowns were not rustling, nor was there any music.

He could still tell he wasn't alone.

"I'm not in the mood to play Tag," he said out loud, trampling gracelessly through ferns and rocks and fallen trees.

A tinkering laugh followed him.

"Then we'll play Hide-and-seek!" it cried out.

One of the lower branches ricocheted towards him; he stopped it without any effort: "Not in the mood for that either."

"One-two-three-Freeze? I'll start counting!"

His strong hand reached out with a sigh into the mass of leaves nearest to him, and without even needing to look as he stepped over another bush he gently pinched a lack of lips shut.

Twilight's head rose to find enormous cockeyed pupils mere inches away from his face.

"I said," he repeated, "I'm not in the mood to play games."

Little grey fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled it away to free their mouth: "You said only for Tag!" the doll protested.

"And now I'm not in the mood for any."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm in the mood to do something else."

"And what's that?"

"Getting out of here."

The kid huffed and whined: "You're no fun."

The man patted its ashen cheek with just enough force without turning it into a slap and smiled with a grin holding the slightest glint of mischief: "You didn't know that already?"

A disgusting bark-looking tongue stuck out to him between small distant teeth. Seeing it so close would have probably made him gag in disgust, together with the rest of its mangy decaying appearance, if he hadn't gotten used to that too wide grin by now.

"Why did you even come here then?" the creature asked.

"What makes you think I wanted to come?"

"Me?"

Twilight laughed wildly, right in its face: "Sure thing," he mocked him playfully, "Like I could really miss the noise of that terrible little trumpet of yours that much."

"Hey! I'm good at it!"

"Whatever you say, whatever you say."

He evaded a halfhearted slap with a laugh.

Emboldened, the little imp reached out to him, trying to jump on him, to steer him away into the foliage it was half hidden in, to drag him into some game or other.

The little hands found themselves easily neutralized, its empty body lifted; after a moment, it found itself sat on a different branch.

"Don't you try that now," the man admonished it: "I do need to go. I have some friends I need to pick up before they get trapped between some your illusory walls."

"Oh! Then they're not here anymore, not as they were."

A finger tapped on its forehead, producing a hollow sound: "Don't try to scare me," Twilight replied lazily: "You know it doesn't work."

"It's true!"

"Sure thing, sure thing."

The small doll shook its head to get rid of the nagging pressure; the rancher allowed it, retracting his hand.

"So?" he pressed on gently, "Will you help me this time too?"

Cockeyed pupils looked at him thoughtfully; then, without answering, the imp asked: "Do people call you Link?"

It got back a flabbergasted look.

"You didn't know?"

"You never told me!"

"I... Well, that's fair. Did you ever tell me yours?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"Skull Kid."

"Nice to meet you. And yes, my name's Link."

"Then I saw your friend!" it grinned. One of its skeletal fingers pointed far away, to a hole just large enough to crawl through on all fours like a dog. "He's there. He's going outside."

Twilight followed the trajectory of their limb. He turned back to face the imp once more.

"There?" he asked, brow quirked.

It nodded.

"There."

It nodded again.

"Right under there."

"Yes!"

"You are sure."

"Yes!"

"He'll be right there?"

"Yes."

"It won't be one of your puppets?"

"No."

"And it won't be a heap of them?"

"No!"

"You promise?"

"Yes."

"Double promise?"

"Yes!"

"Swear on your heart?"

"Yeees!"

"With a cherry on top?"

"I promise on my friend's life and on the Woods' health!"

Twilight gave a wolfish grin: "So you're sure?"

The kid smacked his head repeatedly, overwhelmed with childish fury and cackling uncontrollably as it shouted: "Just get out!"

The rest was swift: in a second, the rancher dropped on all fours, galloping like a dog right into the dark tunnel with a wild howling laugh; his run halted midway as he struck something and stumbled, throwing him into a roll just as he emerged, all but splaying himself at Hyrule, Sky, and Legend's feet.

Always nice to know that pipsqueak didn't lie.

-

"Wait-"

It hurt like hell.

"Wait, please. Wait."

Another sting in his shoulder, more blood pouring through.

"Wait. Please."

His hand trembled as he held it out in surrender for all the trees to see. He looked for the telltale gleam of little oranges eyes, listened for the familiar clatter of wooden limbs; nothing.

Perfectly hidden.

It made his heart clench like his lungs did when he tried not to cry.

He unfastened his shield and sword, letting them clang on the ground harmlessly.

"I will lay down," he said meekly, lowering his body with slow, careful motions, making sure he did not make any rash movements. "I will lay down, and not move. I promise."

No answer came.

"I only ask," and he struggled through a knot in his throat "I only ask you wait until I stop breathing on my own. Please."

He lied down, quietly, and closed his eye.

Blood trickled out of the wounds puncturing his shoulder; pinky outstretched, waiting for the comfort of a promise that he never got, Time began slowly counting his breaths.

Before long, he stopped.

-

He shouldn't have gotten distracted. He shouldn't have let go of him like that. He should have been more attentive of where he was going. He shouldn't have lost sight of the others.

He had to stop! What good would come from this pointless spiraling? He'd messed up; he'd handle the consequences.

His feet hurt like hell. He sat down heavily, trying to massage them through his own boots.

Some kind of scuttling interrupted his thoughts.

From the top of a tree, blending into the darkened bark, minute amber marbles were staring right at him.

Four remained still.

His adversary, too, did not move.

In the minutes following their utter stillness, his eyes acclimated to the dim atmospheres - only barely, but just enough to notice something wiry and strangely posed clutching on the bark.

He watched it move with an inexplicable tardiness, accompanied by a twin which had suddenly emerged from the shadows as they both dragged the shining marbles lower across the trunk of the tree with it, descending with a cautious rhythm.

That was a hand.

Or at least, something which worked as a hand.

The more he stared, trying to make sense of what it was supposed to be, the more he grew convinced it was closer to a bird's foot.

And the more he stared, the lower down the trunk the thing went, until all four of its thin limbs were all but sprawled across the large centenary roots; and from those roots those branch-like arms and legs were slithering towards the ground, sinking their talons in the dirt as it crawled towards him.

He needed to get up.

He needed to get his sword.

He needed to start screaming.

He needed to start making a plan.

He did not manage to move a single muscle.

Perhaps it was for the better. Because while his brain was busy screaming and scrambling, trying to tear his body apart to scatter in four different directions, his eyes remained fixed on the strange beast reaching towards him at a snail's pace, and the familiar jangling sound coming from the misshapen patches of bright color around its neck and wrists snapped at least one of his scattering trains of thought back to reality.

His hand shot forward: "Wait."

Did he seriously think that would work?

The thing stopped.

Huh.

Well.

He grabbed a bag hanging loose from his belt. He did not need to tear his eyes off the dark sharp beak pointed right at his face, long and with a thin tip that reminded him of a knife; his fingers swept across the broken pieces until he recognized the shape of the one he was looking for.

The round head perked slightly at the sight of the red half as it was lifted triumphantly before its beady eyes.

With the creaking sound of badly oiled wooden hinges the thing approached on all of its four wire thin limbs, its previous menacing countenance completely gone from its step.

It lifted a hand: a red shard dangled from it.

The kinstone pieces fit perfectly.

Four looked as the beast shook its strange taloned palm to make the little charm dance. Though its expression had not changed due with its limited facial features, he could read in their pose an frendlier, more relaxed disposition.

"I have others," he said, catching its attention, "For those two you have -- hold on..."

It was child's play to find them now that he was sure shifting his attention from the weird creature wouldn't result in mortal peril. The halves slotted together perfectly with those already dotting its form in handmade jewelery pieces, and before either of them knew it they were all complete, jangling with mirth as the wiry thing joyously rattled its too thin body.

Something good might happen.

And to his surprise, the beast turned to him, opened its sharp beak, and asked with the tone of a little kid: "Do they call you Link?"

Four blinked.

"Yes," he replied after a moment of arguing with himself. "They do."

The little thing clapped, the three talons on each hand making the strangest noise as they collided: "Then your friend is waiting there," it informed him; and one of its fingers pointed a few feet away, where a corridor passed through a tree much like a lethal wound.

"Oh," he noted. "Thank you."

Had it been there before?

Had it opened just now?

He spared another glance at the strange creature: it was tracing the completed blue kinstone with one talon, curiously.

It did not even look at him as he very cautiously stood up.

When Four looked back before passing through, it was happily dangling the medallions from its wiry frame. It turned to him; with a stare that could have almost been described as a smile (no way to see the curve of its lips with such a long beak) it waved at him.

He waved back.

He took another step.

The piece of forest he'd just been in vanished without a trace beneath a suddenly oppressive shadow.

Then Four spotted Hyrule, Sky, a slightly frazzled Legend and a noticeably at ease Twilight come in from another end of the meadow, and allowed himself to give a sigh of relief.

-

He did not remember there being so many puddles in the woods a few meters back, and he could confidently say he was more than fairly certain about this because a few meters back, before he suddenly lost sight of his companions, the mere act of walking had not been an absolute nightmare.

Now the ground had turned marshy, unstable, and he had to watch his feet carefully before he accidentally stepped into a hole too deep and got swallowed whole by the strange smelling water.

Making sure the patch he was standing on was solid enough, he dared to look around: no sign of the others.

Hopefully they would at least give out a loud splash if they fell into one of the puddles, he reasoned gloomily. It would have at least been a little funny.

A different sound caught his attention - what was that? Music? What kind? And what instrument? It seemed garbled, sputtering, as if part of it were underwater. The more he turned to find its source, the more the direction from which it seemed to come eluded him.

Maybe he should have retraced his path...

He raised a foot, took a step.

Then his other ankle was yanked back as he began to lift it, and in a second the water greeted his face with a hard, sickening squelch.

A mouthful of bog water choked his breath suddenly. His hands, pressing on the weakened ground to push him back out of the muddy prison he'd fallen into, caused instead the patches of land to sink further down, taking him with them.

Something viscous climbed up his calf.

Maybe, an older hero would have replied differently, more properly, in a true heroic fashion; but Wind was a young hero, and he had every reason to stamp his boot on the nose whatever was holding him back, and so he did just that.

The contact came with a hissing ouch, and with the sickening crunch of broken bones.

His face reemerged as he finally rolled himself off the malleable ground, back hitting it hard while he tried scramble to his feet and only managed to sit on a more solid portion of the swamp.

He'd seen eyes like that only on squids.

He'd seen pupils like that - thin, vertical, zigzagging - only on squids.

Squids did not have webbed hands with fingers like a frog's, long human nails sticking out of them.

Squids did not have round heads, lily pads seated upon seaweeds draped over it like strands of chitinous hair.

Squids did not rub their concave cheek and pull it back out with a horrid cacophony of cracks and crackles and creaks.

Squids did focus their empty gaze on him, cockeyed and shining with the gleam of water still covering their gelatinous skin after they'd emerged; but not like that.

Before he could shake himself out of the shock enough to pull himself back, the thing had slipped out of the bog to crawl onto the unsteady ground, onto the moss, onto him until its nearly transparent face covered in minuscule root-like veins was all but touching his, so light that if it hadn't been dripping swamp water all over him he might have not felt its limbs pressing on him.

He could not feel its breath on him. He wasn't keen on checking its chest to see if it moved at all.

It did not seem to share that sentiment.

Its hand grabbed his neck, not squeezing - but holding steadily, tilting his head left and right as though to better inspect him, sinking its slimy digits into his skin roughened by the sea salt.

Wind watched as its thin lips parted with a long whistle, an almost hypnotic sound.

"Oh," it sang - it sang, sweetly, with a melodious tone both high and low at the same time, bewitching and impossibly different from any sound he'd ever heard, like the song of a lonely whale - disappointed: "You're not him."

Him?

It shifted his head up and down again.

Its grip was gentle.

Longing, almost.

A fingertip brushed the corner of his mouth.

"You looked like him a lot," it commented sadly.

Him?

"Do they call you Link?"

Wind stared into the thin, long pupils.

He wasn't sure if he nodded; he couldn't really feel his body at the moment, pinned down by the dripping water and the stare like that.

He must have, though.

A lipless mouth opened over rows of baleen plates divided by an inky black gap with a grin.

The sight stunned him.

Then he felt a push, a pressure on his clavicles.

And then he was shoved in the water, with barely any time to catch a single breath.

His hands squeezed the creature's wrists so tight he snapped the stick-like bones within - which would have horrified him, certainly, if he hadn't been struggling not to gulp bog water into his lungs despite how terribly they burned - trying in vain to have it let go of him as he kicked aimlessly, as hard as he could; shattered wrists or not, the beast pushed him deeper into the swamp without relenting for even a single second.

Wind could swear he had heard a whistle, a song of sorts -- something akin to a laugh at the sight of his struggles.

Air hit his face with such force that he almost bruised.

The stars seemed to pulsate in strange, concentric patterns before his eyes. Once the shock subsided and the dull, spread out pain on his nape cleared his vision from the dizzyness, he found himself on the ground, looking at the far away crowns of trees.

Sopping wet, no doubt reeking, breathing raggedly, legs still halfway in the water.

He scrambled away from the shallow backwater pool; he barely managed to see something sink back into it before the stagnating pond returned perfectly still.

Somebody whistled.

"What on Earth happened to you?" Twilight's voice reached him as though obstructed by cotton: "Did you roll into a puddle?"

He blinked; he turned, dazed eyes passing over visages he vaguely recognized as Four's, Legend's, and Sky's without properly seeing them, before looking back at the small lake before him.

There was nothing.

Barely a darkened splash of water left over by a meek rain.

"It-" he started: "I- it, there - a swamp, I was, the - it - sang in - the, where did-"

A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his stupor slightly. Hyrule looked over his eyes, pulling his wet hair out of them, to check for anything out of the ordinary; despite the shortness of breath and mildly dilated pupils, the younger hero seemed fine.

"I think this place is getting to us," Sky mumbled.

Next to him, Legend leaned a little closer and nodded.

Wind did not reply as he was pulled back to his feet by Four and Twilight, but he was inclined to agree.

-

The fog was far from new, by all means.

The trees that didn't look like they were going to swallow you whole were, but that was a frankly welcome change.

No, the biggest problem, the thing that had him most uneasy, was the hint of sound.

It was faint, and far away, and eerily quiet.

It seemed familiar, but not enough.

Of course, he moved towards it.

It never seemed to grow stronger, no matter how much he walked. It remained quiet, barely audible, but at the same time he could tell he was making progress: with each step, despite the cold damp air seeping into his bones, he felt closer and closer to the source.

A tree remained on the ground, uprooted. It must have been large, infinitely so, once, but its branches were nowhere to be seen and most of it was missing; its sorrounding bretheren had long wrapped the coils of their roots around it, corroding entire chunks of the bark to tear holes in the trunk as though they were cannibal beasts devouring a fallen former friend without remorse, biting into the ancient corpse with their enormous teeth and agonizing tardiness. It would have been a cruel fate, had they been animals; he wasn't sure it couldn't be considered one for a tree, either.

The sound waned around the dead rotten roots. He thought he saw them twitching as he passed them.

A scarecrow hid with them.

At least, he thought it was a scarecrow.

It was certainly poorly made, probably a kid's idea of one. What should have been its forearms were hanging limply from the moldy stake piercing through the cloth of its shirt, undetermined stuffing spilling from the holes and ripped fabric; around the height of what was supposed to be its knees there was a tight knot tying a flaccid looking leg to the one stuck in the cross-shaped structure's body, giving the limbs the shape of a very badly drawn 4. It lacked anything resembling hands or feet, and the patches upon a variety of tears had been sewn hazardly, with no rhyme or reason, letting more of whatever it was that stuffed it escape.

Its half shredded hat was perched upon nothing.

He stared at the black hole where a head would have sat. A pair of dull lights stared back.

They blinked.

He had the feeling that the roots were slowly closing behind him.

"Hello," he whispered.

The scarecrow stared.

He could hear them now.

A disgusting sound of rot latching onto rot.

He wasn't sure he could move.

The scarecrow stared.

Hadn't he seen it once?

A long time ago.

The air smelled sweet. He remembered it from the hunting huts he'd found, like the old man's.

It was the smell of putrefaction.

The scarecrow stared.

So the tree wasn't dead yet.

So it was being eaten alive.

He could hear the healthier roots of its loveless siblings wrap tighter around the decrepit trunk. He could feel them around his chest, like gaping maws so slowly shutting around him.

He could feel their lack of remorse, their lack of guilt.

He could feel the tree's lack of anger. Of pain.

Had one of them fallen instead, they would have eaten him all the same. Ripped it from this body. Had it become another.

Tree or grass or shrub or mushroom or moss, you will stay.

That is the way things are.

He could feel himself being eaten.

"Do they call you Link?" the scarecrow asked.

Its voice was like very fine glass breaking.

He nodded slowly.

The scarecrow turned; its lip forearm jumped up, pointing deeper into the enormous nearly hollow trunk.

He looked into the dark.

The roots that were clinging to his hair, his ears, his skin clattered to the ground as he moved forward, their rotten tissue not managing to hold onto him and breaking uselessly.

He walked into the dark.

He walked, and walked, and walked.

A hint of sound grew weaker behind him.

And then there was light.

As well as Sky, Legend, Wind, Four, Hyrule, and Twilight.

Oh.

Nice.

Four looked to the side, glancing to the three more dazed components of their group before turning back to the one who had just come out of the shade: "How are you feeling, champ?" he asked, just to make sure.

Wild looked at him as though he could see his brain.

"Fine, I think." he replied in a strange tone.

Hyrule patted his arm half-heartedly: "That's good to hear," he just said as he dragged him along.

-

The clattering sound made his muscles seize and freeze.

The laugh that came after it didn't help.

Breathe, he forced himself to think. Breathe. It had worked before, when he was too small and scared to do anything; it would work now, that he knew better, that he was stronger.

He tried to keep on walking; he failed.

Breathe.

"You won't even say hi?"

From the darkness of his eyelids his traitorous pupils conjured a sickly ivory face. He did not look.

Another laugh shattering on the ground like porcelain cups from which poison has been drunk: "How rude, how rude! We've been friends so long and you won't even look at me!"

If he hadn't burned every lesson his grandmother had given him into his brain so thoroughly that nothing could have ever ripped them from his memory, he would have snapped at it that they'd never been friends, that he'd never dream of being associated with something as horrible as that creature in any way, let alone as a friend.

But that is not how one speaks to a woodland dweller if they want to escape the encounter with their life.

Something rested on his shoulder. He felt it slink behind his nape like a cat, sinking claws into his other arm; its scent of mud and sage and dried blood would have overwhelmed him if it hadn't been so disgustingly familiar to him.

"Come on," it laughed: "Don't be mean."

Breathe.

The sickening smell tried to choke him.

"Leave me be, please," he murmured.

Another laugh: "No can do, no can do! Not until you look at me."

Breathe.

He opened his eyes.

The ghastly grin of sharpened teeth met his gaze.

He watched them open slightly, clacking with a bony sound at every syllable and appearing to lunge for him; the childish voice carressed his cheeks like a cold pane of ice: "There you are!"

From the empty bone sockets gleamed small orange irises.

The vertebrae of the neck were craned terribly, barely connected to one another. Cloth hanged from them, from empty spaces where the clavicles should have connected to the shoulders, from the floating forms of the humeruses, in the vaguest shape of a shirt, a tunic, something to cover up the fearful mystery underneath, to hide its madness-inducing emptiness from the eyes of the living.

The dead and dying had worse problems.

"It's been a while," the spirit clattered jovially as it moved its head even closer to his face.

"It has." he replied curtly.

A sharp phalanx poked the underside of his chin, almost prickling the skin enough to draw blood, and lifted it slightly to better inspect him. Its wispy laugh made his skin crawl with a shiver.

"You get longer every time I see you!"

He hated the familiarity in its voice. He hated that it spoke to him like a younger sibling, like a childhood friend, when he'd seen it picking at the bodies of soldiers fallen in Faron Woods like they hadn't been fighting for their lives just seconds earlier, their muscles and marrow disappearing with horrid squelches within the sharp rows of teeth before dropping, in a putrid mess of chewed gore, into the depths of that unknowable body.

Like it hadn't cornered him to feast on him when he'd been just a kid who had strayed from the path and gotten too lost to go back whence he came, saved only by his grandomther's advice.

Like it hadn't been haunting their home since, making him run away before it could get his cousin too.

He stared forward, trying to to ignore its cold breath on his skin.

"I can't stay." he muttered.

"Why not?" it protested; its claws sank in his shoulder, but he did not hiss. "It's been so long, so long! Let's play something, like back then! Do you remember, back then? When we played Question-And-Answer, and you always answered funny?"

"I did." he replied. He wasn't keen on thinking of his brushes with a fate worse than death - no matter how much fun it had been for them to watch him squirm.

The little body shook with a cacophony of bone against bone as it laughed loudly, delightedly: "I bet you still do that! I bet you do!"

It crawled on him too fast for him not to recoil; in a moment, his face was held in those sharp ivory hands, kept still right before that ghastly grin, those empty sockets from which gleamed small amber irises far, far into the darkness.

"Let's play again," it hissed, "Let's have fun again. It's been long."

"I can't stay."

"Why not? Why not? You keep avoiding me these days. You keep avoiding me and never want to play. Now you're here, you're here! And I want to play."

'These days' had been years.

"There are other friends." he replied. "I need to see them."

A glint of interest traversed the minuscule pupils likea lightning strike: "Other friends?" it asked.

Warriors bit his tongue. He regretted to have mentioned them already, to have dragged them into this without them even knowing; but it's never a good idea to eat the words given to a woodland dweller: "Yes."

The corners of its bony grin curled even more, widening it so much it seemed to split the skull in half.

"Other friends," it repeated, tilting its head. The strands of dead skin clinging still to the cranium like the parody of hylian ears tilted with it. "Other friends."

"Yes."

It chuckled without opening its jaws, with a guttural sound; its body rattled ominously, and he felt its shadow melt over him like a cascade of too thick icy water: "Other friends," it said once more; it began nodding, once, twice, thrice: "I see, I see. Other friends, I see! I can send you to them, I can, I can."

Hopefully, if he played his cards right, he could manage to be the sole recipient of any mauling, bloodied revenge its jealousy would unleash: "You would?"

"I can, I will!" it assured him. Its rough fingers traced along his jaw: "But I need a thing."

Of course. Warriors braced himself: "I'll see if I have it."

"Of course you do, of course! You know what it is," the dweller laughed: "You never want to give it to me."

The captain's blood froze in his veins.

No. No, no, no, no, absolutely not, no way - he couldn't, he could have never accepted, especially now, especially while looking for the others. To give it that power over himself was dangerous enough, but to allow it to have such influence over the rest of the heroes as well? While they were none the wiser? To simply hand their lives and bodies and souls over like that?

He'd learned to read the emptyness in its smile for the correct answer, and he knew it wouldn't have accepted a no, nor would any other offering have satisfied it.

Either he gave it power over nine lives, or they all got swallowed by the forest and got their bones picked clean by those teeth.

Warriors swallowed.

With a fate like his, it wasn't like he'd ever had agency to begin with.

"I only have one." his voice strained as he finally spoke.

"Is it yours?"

"Only mine."

It grinned wider. Its hand inched dangerously closer to his mouth, as though to claw the word out of it itself: "And it is?"

Hopefully it would work.

"Link."

The beast laughed.

Before he could fully feel himself as a living breathing creature again, he was walking into a darkened portal as fast as he could, followed only by the echo of a rattling childish voice.

"Next time we'll play! Next time!"

Next time, hopefully, would be never.

Somebody was talking now, in this patch of woodsthat felt so abnormally normal, saying he was fine, that there was nothing to worry about regarding him, that they should have hurried anyway; you never knew what could be hiding around.

It took him a moment to recognize who the voice was talking to. He had been so caught up in escaping his childhood tormentor, he'd barely realized the entire Chain save from Time was here.

It took him another, longer moment to realize that the voice had come from himself.

Once the others weren't looking, he clenched his every muscle for a few seconds, tensing his entire body to the point where he started trembling from the strain, and released. He moved his hands carefully, in nonsensical yet complex patterns: no hindrance. No thoughts different from his own.

So far, he was still in control of himself.

He hurried his gait. He wasn't too excited about waiting around to see what happened once that thing decided to start toying with him.

-

Time was awoken by worried voices.

His eye cracked open: half a dozen faces leaned over him, asking him all at once how he was feeling, what had happened, who had attacked him, telling him about confused encounters he couldn't keep track of. A pair of hands was checking his head for any concussions, another was assessing the damage to his arm and closing the punctures before even more blood could pour through; a final pair was slowly dispersing the younger heroes fussing around him, to give him space, to let him breathe.

Four and Warriors helped him sit up.

"Was it an ambush?" Wind's voice reached his ears.

He couldn't stop himself from nodding in reflex: "Nothing to be worried about," he reassured them, his throat dry and hoarse: "Just... It was just a mistake."

He was sustained to his feet, helf fast by younger arms until he was stable enough to have his sword and shield handed back to him.

Questions muddled around his ears as they walked slowly, urgently, into the sylvan tunnel that would have led them outside of that infernal labyrinth.

"No," he answered them all quietly, very quietly: "No, nothing to be worried about. Saw an old friend, is all."

He swallowed a knot in his throat.

"He just has a hard time recognizing me these days."

('These days' had been years.)

#tloz #linked universe #time lu #hyrule lu #sky lu #legend lu #twilight lu #four lu #wild lu #wind lu #warriors lu #skull kid #skullkid #gore mention #corpse mention #blood mention #random writing #back at it again with skull kid in linked universe but Completely Different from my usual stuff on the matter #a few things i want to point out! #1) there is only one skull kid in this fic #2) sk's appearance depends on the person who sees them. sk himself has no say over it and actually doesnt know how he looks like #3) sk is not really malignant. he IS however part of the lost woods and functions differently compared to a person esp in terms of eating* #4) as it happens in oot sk only recognizes time as a child but not as an adult #*he is an undead plant essentially so chomping people is not a moral matter to him

[masked-vee]

CHAPTER 1: Mouse to Eevee

Mouse was walking for what felt like forever. They took breaks, but wanted to know what lays just ahead of this starry void, waiting for them and Elizabeth. They battled weird hostile void creatures, and found healing essence and food when it was around. Suddenly, Mouse felt something strange in their body. Mouse felt like their body was changing. And... Floaty...?

They floated in a rainbowy void, clutching on to Ellie like she'd vanish of they let go. The floaty feeling didn't last very long, as they shielded their eyes from a piercing bright light.

Gravity came back as they fell down a forest floor. Rolling and tumbling, multiple times Mouse tried to stop themself, but they kept rolling and rolling. They didn't stop rolling until reached the bottom of the hill.

"O-ow... Ow." They whimpered as they got up. Mouse put their hand to their sore head, rubbing it gently. That's when they noticed something attached to the top of their head. It was long and fuzzy, and it sprung back into place when they let go. feeling the other side, there was another long soft appendage on their head.

Mouse tried to pull it off, but caused themselves pain in the process. "Ow!" They cried in pain.

"Mouse?! Mouse!" Elizabeth's muffled voice shouted.

"Ellie?!" Mouse shouted. They looked around, but when they saw their hands, or rather paws. They slowly brought their paws to their face, staring at the soft paw pads. Not covered by their green gloves. Looking down their arm, they saw dark brown fur with a tan splatch on starting at the shoulder. Panic set in as they look at their belly, their legs, feet, and finally, their long fluffy tail. Mouse screams in pure terror and confusion.

"Mouse! Mouse?! Are you okay?! I heard screaming! Where are you?!" Elizabeth's voice became more worried and frantic. Mouse came back to their senses and went back searching for their treasured hilt friend. They finally found her buried in a pile of leaves and picked her up.

"Thank god you're okay- Mouse...?" She recognized the mask on their face, but her friends appearance was completely new to her. Mouse nodded, confirming it was the underling she grew attached to. "You look... different..." Mouse made a motion with their paws signifying that they knew that already. They went to put the talking hilt in their belt loop, but remembered that it was far too big for their new body.

"Where are we...? This doesn't look like the Moth Forest." Elizabeth wondered. Mouse adjusted their belt on their body to make it sit comfortably on their back. Mouse slipped Ellie in the strap loop, and began their journey in this new world.

What lays ahead of the duo, no one can say. All they know now, is that they're in for a wild ride.

NEXT

#underhero #masked kid underhero #masked kid #underhero masked kid #mouse #elizabeth IV #selective mutism

[frozenbound]

idk if ure still doin requests but if yes how about some dragon hybrid shimada bros absolutely wrecking cassidy with their big dragon dicks

This is a BLESSED concept, Anon! It was a delight to write, because frankly, dragon hybrid Shimada bros is high art, and horny dragon hybrid Shimada bros only elevates it further. I'm very happy to contribute more of them! Thank you thank you thank you for the request!!!

Dragon hybrid Hanzo and Genji wrecking Cassidy, coming right up under the Read more!

Cassidy slammed down on the leaf-strewn, grass-covered ground, the soft foliage doing absolutely nothing to stop the hard ground beneath from blasting his breath harshly out of his throat.

His gun clattered to the ground, and through the pain, dismay, and rising panic as he struggled to draw breath but couldn’t, one thought dominated: it was too far away.

He was completely defenseless.

These dragon-men were going to rip him apart.

He’d known they were in the vicinity. Everyone around here knew. That had been why, when Cassidy had heard strange growling noises, he had crept into the forest, curiosity piqued, hoping for a glimpse of these rare, near-mythical creatures.

Well, he was getting a good look now, that was for sure.

Blue and gold, green and gold, the immense musculature of their arms and legs tensed and flexed underneath iridescent and pebbly scales that glittered and sparkled like sunlight on water as they prowled forward out of the shady undergrowth. Their tails, long and thick at the bases before rapidly transforming into thin whips with long tufts of hair at the ends, swept back and forth behind them like cats.

And those eyes…

The scales became patchy around their necks before giving way to mostly skin not unlike Cassidy’s own, but both dragon-men had lines of brilliant scales just under their dark, burning eyes, accentuating just how intently…hungrily…they both stared at him as they stalked ever closer. 

One of them, the blue and gold one, had long, inky black hair that even after this intense yet laughably short battle was swept behind his shoulders, looking as fine and well-combed as though they were at a royal feast…though now that Cassidy was getting a (final) look under the sunlight, he sported two large gray patches at his temples, swept back like wings, with more salt scattered among the pepper of his immaculately groomed facial hair, goatee, mustache and even on the pair of short black antlers he sported on his head like an ebony crown. 

The other sported a far shorter hairstyle beneath his bright yellow antlers, one that somehow managed to stand on end, like a spooked cat but with more…style. His hair was as green as his scales, and during the fight it had been easy to see, in the hurried glances Cassidy had been afforded while struggling for his life, how a green mane ran down his spine and across the top of his tail to end at the tuft. The other dragon-man had a mane, too, but it was harder to see, so black against dark blue, and partly hidden by his longer hair.

Both dragon-men had golden scales on what might be called their underbellies if they didn’t walk on two heavily-muscled legs, accentuating and highlighting their meaty pecs and sharply-defined six-packs as they came closer and closer, towering over Cassidy, easily eight feet tall at the least and much, much broader and burlier than Cassidy, broad and burly as he himself was.

Even now, at the brink of death, with blood from the wound across his forehead trickling over one eye and forcing it closed from the salty sting, a corner of his mind thought they were beautiful.

===

“Well, then, brother,” Genji purred as he advanced with Hanzo toward the human. “This simplifies matters. Now I won’t have to embarrass you.”

Hanzo huffed. “Think only of your feelings,” he retorted. “You haven’t bested me in two hundred years. What makes you think that…”

“Brother,” Genji interrupted, “let’s not get into that when we have our mate right here in front of us.”

“Our mate?” Hanzo asked, and he may have tried to take on a harsh tone when he said it, but the smile was plain in his voice and the relief and mounting arousal plain in his scent. “He has clearly submitted, but I don’t recall hashing that out.”

“Oh, come on!” Genji laughed, baring his fangs even more than his brother already was. “If we stop to ‘discuss’ that, he’ll recover and be ready to easily knock me out while I’m exhausted from defeating you.”

Hanzo shook his head wryly. “How little,” he said, brushing aside Genji’s boast, “you remember about humans. For us, healing after establishing dominance is almost a formality, if we need it at all, but they don’t recover anywhere near as quickly as we do. And look how fragile he is! Bleeding so much from just a couple of swipes! No, he’s clearly submitted…but he isn’t ready. Hold off as long as you can.”

“Fiiine,” Genji moaned, but he was already licking his lips, salivating as they came too close to ignore their new mate’s scent any longer.

“And be careful!” Hanzo said, genuinely sharpening his tone. “We’ve already sliced through his skin. Those…coverings, I suppose, are even more useless than I believed before. Be gentle as you remove them.”

“Yes, brother. Anything you say.”

===

Cassidy swallowed as the strange growling, hissing noises of what was most likely a conversation abruptly ended and the two dragon-men moved forward with purpose.

This was it, he thought, closing his other eye. This was the end.

He waited for those razor-sharp claws to slash into his belly.

He jolted when those claws did begin to slash and rip and tear, dreading the immense amount of pain that was sure to erupt when he was torn open.

But it never came.

Instead, after a few endless moments, he realized that they were…they were ripping at his clothes.

Just his clothes.

Well, came a dark and poisonous thought, who would want to eat sweat-stained cotton and worn leather when such delicious meat lay hidden just underneath? Dragon-men were rumored to be far more intelligent than humans owing to their extraordinary lifespans, and these two had undoubtedly learned how to consume a person without having to pick cloth from between their teeth afterwards.

So he waited, shivering and shuddering slightly from the sensation of claws passing so near to his most private areas as they tore and peeled away his trousers and pants, and then from embarrassment when his flaccid cock and his tight ballsack, drawn up against him from sheer fear, were exposed to the light and heat of the sun overhead.

The ripping and tearing sounds stopped when Cassidy was very nearly completely nude, his eyes still screwed shut, waiting for the end.

He clenched his jaw when the dragon-men started…feeling him.

They were being surprisingly gentle, but Cassidy dismissed the thought because of just how humiliating it was, lying here on the ground, naked and helpless, while two dragon-men sized up their meal and poked and prodded him in search of the finest cuts of meat, the softest areas to slice through. Absolutely humiliating.

===

“He’s like a mountain goat,” Hanzo said with astonishment, threading his fingers through the human’s thick chest hair that had been revealed from under his coverings. “Look at all this!”

“A thick, shiny pelt is a sign of health,” Genji joked.

“Musculature is a far more reliable sign in humans, and he certainly has plenty,” Hanzo replied, now tracing the lines of the human’s pecs and abs. “Mmm,” he hummed with approval, “so broad and strong for a human! No wonder he gave us such a good fight despite being so small. If he were a dragon, he’d unquestionably be our equal.”

Genji rolled his eyes at Hanzo’s praising yet haughty words, but like his brother, he was also exploring their mate’s body, partially to search out any and all damage that needed to be attended to, but mostly to explore the body that had appeared like a blessing from heaven to satisfy their rut. “Oh, there, there,” he said soothingly when their mate jolted as his hand passed over his ribs. “Yes, there, I can feel it. Something cracked or snapped under there, didn’t it? Don’t worry, we’ll have it taken care of.”

“Take care of it first,” Hanzo ordered. “His skin may be thin, but who knows how long it will take to penetrate it. We should give that the most time. Then do his shoulder while I attend to his head.”

===

Death was being so coy, Cassidy thought grimly. Just hurry up and disembowel him so he'd bleed out quickly and be dead long before they started to feast.

He gasped out loud and jolted away from something hot and slimy against his skin.

His eyes popped open, but there was still a lot of blood over his left eye, and the sting was so painful it made both of them water even as he clapped a hand to his and blinked his right eye as fast as possible, trying to force out the tears.

Eventually, the dragon-men swam back into view…

The dragon-men and their long, serpentine tongues.

They were crouching on either side of him, simply looking at him as though waiting, thick, viscous saliva slowly running down their inches-long, dark pink tongues. When Cassidy did nothing more than stare, the green dragon-man leaned down and slowly swiped his tongue right over the rib that had let out a sickening crunch when Cassidy had tried to fire a shot into apparently impenetrable dragonhide and had immediately been thrown into a tree trunk for his trouble.

Cassidy jolted away again, staring down at the green dragon-man.

"What the fuck," he started to demand, then, wincing at the pain lancing through him, he stopped, not quite daring to touch his side.

The dragon-men exchanged a glance that was amused on one side and exasperated on the other.

Then the blue one darted forward, breathtakingly fast for such a huge figure, and pinned Cassidy’s hands above his head, simultaneously laying a thick leg over his legs.

Cassidy began to struggle…well, squirm and wriggle, really. It was all he could do under such strength and weight.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" he demanded, shouting through the pain of his rib. "Get off of me! Get off! I swear I'm gonna…!"

The blue dragon-man actually rolled his eyes, stoking Cassidy’s ire, but then he growled something to the green one, who, grinning, leaned forward again with his mouth wide open.

He clamped his whole mouth over Cassidy’s broken rib and began to…lave at it with his tongue.

It was painful, extremely painful, but it also tickled, and Cassidy had never known a hell like this before.

"Get off me! Get off! Stop! Fuck, shit, fuck, get off!" he howled, trying to rip his hands out of the grip of the overpowering blue dragon-man, but it was no use. "Get off!"

The blue dragon-man laughed. It was a deep, rough sound, and it made Cassidy’s blood boil. "I said," he growled, tensing his entire body, "get off!"

The dragon-men got off.

It was such a surprise that Cassidy couldn't stop the flailing motion that was supposed to be his last, beat attempt to wrench free, and he ended up twisting around and laying, panting, on his side, glaring daggers at the two dragon-men standing above him. Laughing.

===

"Oh, shit! Wow!" Genji choked out. "He looks just like you, brother!"

"He does!" Hanzo laughed, doubled over. "He does! No wonder you're always terrified of me. I look vicious!"

"Ha! Oh, wow…" Genji cackled before drawing in a deep breath. "Wow. Wow. I like our mate a lot, brother. He's got a lot of spirit."

“Yes," Hanzo agreed. "Truly worthy of our attention, though he is a bit slow. When will he realize that…ah, there, he's made the connection."

===

His rib was healed.

It took Cassidy a few moments to realize he was lying directly on the rib that moments before had screamed under a light touch, but when he did, he rolled off of it and poked and prodded at it like the dragon-men had, but with far more neutral results.

It wasn't some kind of anesthetic or painkiller. His rib was…whole.

He squinted up at the towering dragon-men above him with his good eye. The blue one had been so fucking amused that he had bent over, so his face was actually pretty close to Cassidy’s. When he met Cassidy’s gaze, he grinned, flashing his fangs, and then stuck his inches-long tongue out at him, grazing the very tip of it against Cassidy’s nose.

Cassidy recoiled a little bit, but he eyed that tongue and the shiny, viscous saliva gleaming on it.

He'd heard that dragon-men had…powers. Was this one of them?

But why would they…

Salty sweat dripped into his eye, making him wince. He could still feel blood trickling over his other eye because it was a head wound and thus releasing a lot of blood despite being a relatively light scrape. Now that his rib wasn't giving trouble, Cassidy was actually getting more worried about the somewhat deep gash on his shoulder…which was, he realized, exactly where the green dragon-man was glancing, over and over, while the blue one kept looking at his head wound.

This was turning into a very strange situation. When these dragon-men spotted him and immediately gave chase, hissing and growling, Cassidy had run and then fought for his life, but now that he was here and completely at their mercy, they were…helping him?

Was he some kind of toy to them, and they were getting him ready to run again so they could play with their food a little longer like a cat with a mouse?

Well, if they were, it would give him a chance, however small, to slip away. Every chance they gave him was worth pursuing.

So he slowly reached up and touched his head, feeling his fingertips get tacky and wet with blood.

"Alright. Go on," he said warily. "Take care of the rest of it, then. Heaven knows you're responsible for it, so take care of it."

===

"He's smart," Genji opined as the human lowered his bloody hand and lay back, not taking his eyes off them, but clearly not getting ready to spring up and run away.

"Possibly," Hanzo said, voice full of snark but with a trace of agreement, "but let's clean him up and get started before he gets a chance to prove us wrong."

The human looked far from comfortable, but he didn't pull away when they approached. To their amusement, he did close his good eye and held his body as stiff as a board when they squatted on either side of him again, obviously willing himself not to react when each of them leaned down and began licking at his wounds.

"Tastes like iron," Hanzo murmured, lapping at the human’s head wound.

Genji only hummed in response. 

Human skin was fragile, but it responded as fast as if not faster to their saliva as their own bodies would. The shoulder wound was deeper, so that kept Genji busy, but the head wound was messier, and Hanzo had appropriated it for himself because he doubted Genji’s ability to gently, gently lick up the blood that had spilled all over the human’s face, including his eye, nearly gluing it shut as the blood dried and coagulated. 

Soon enough, though, he had the pleasure of drawing back and watching as the human’s eyes fluttered open, the healing and soothing powers of Hanzo’s species having already banished the bloodshot redness that would otherwise have been present.

As it was, the human’s eyes were clear and piercing and dark and a lovely shade of brown.

Hanzo wondered if any of their brood would inherit the color.

"Genji," he growled, feeling himself thicken and grow from the reminder of why they were here in the first place. 

"Finished, brother," Genji purred, licking one last strip across the newly closed skin of their mate. "Just in time, too."

Hanzo had been too focused on their mate’s beautiful eyes. Genji, predictably, had immediately noticed their mate's erection.

===

Go down, go down, go down, Cassidy pleaded with his cock. You aren't that shameless, you stupid piece of shit. Go down.

But of course it wouldn't. Of course not.

So he simply had to hope that neither of the dragon-men would notice.

The blue one seemed pretty focused elsewhere, but whether that was good or bad was an open question. Once he had stopped…cleaning, Cassidy supposed, he had cautiously opened his eyes to find him studying him with an expression that Cassidy might call hungry if the dragon-man hadn't already missed his chance to eat him.

He was real pretty, though. He had a face that looked like it had been carved out of marble, depicting a wise king in the prime of life from ages past.

And all the while the green one was licking him, sending tingles through him that went straight to his suddenly hard dick.

If these dragon-men hadn't killed him, then the sudden giggle the green one let out and the blue one glancing down just might.

Unwillingly, Cassidy’s eyes were dragged down, dreading to see his dick making a goddamned nuisance of itself at the worst possible time…

…which was when he saw the blue dragon-man getting hard.

Both dragon-men had, he realized, glancing at the green one, a thick sheathe between their legs, which apparently normally hid their…endowments…from view.

Now, however, the sheathes were loosening and…and drawing back to reveal two surprisingly human-looking dicks, though somewhat sharper, more angular, with pointed, triangular heads instead of a round mushroom crown like the one increasingly peeking out from Cassidy’s foreskin.

Cassidy’s shock insulated him from the sheer size of those dicks for a few moments, and he watched, spellbound, as the dragon-men's ballsacks squeezed out and swung in the open air, at about the same moment his own cockhead finished emerging.

Did both of those mean the whole thing? he wondered.

Then he swallowed when it registered that their balls were the size of peaches.

And their cocks were almost as long as his forearm.

"Uh," he said breathlessly. "Uh. You…you ain't gonna try to…are you?"

===

"He's losing his confidence, brother," Genji warned. "Quick, before he scurries away."

===

Cassidy yelped as the dragon-men took a firm grip of him, the green…Green…holding his legs and Blue taking his wrists. He glanced worriedly between Blue's face and his hands, and he was suddenly struck by how human the dragon-man's hands and fingers looked…but that didn't make any sense. Where were the claws that had just been tearing at his skin?

Blue, looking smug but also a little predatory, flexed his hands, and Cassidy’s jaw dropped open as his fingertips hardened into sharp points and then relaxed back into soft, rounded fingers.

Neat, he thought faintly. Useful. Not just for everyday life, but also, he suspected, for what was about to happen.

Green purred something, drawing both Cassidy and Blue's attention.

Green opened his mouth wide and his long, thin tongue snaked out…and wrapped around the base of Cassidy’s cock.

Cassidy gasped.

Blue hissed.

He dropped Cassidy’s wrists and clambered down and, spitting some dragon-man word at Green, leaned down and engulfed Cassidy’s cock, from head to root, with Blue’s lips bumping up against Green’s tongue.

Cassidy was not a small man, and he was amply endowed, so much so that until this moment he had never, in his life, been deepthroated.

Blue was so big that Cassidy was only nudging at the entrance to his throat, so in a winded, awed corner of his mind, he supposed this didn’t count as deepthroating, but when Blue’s tongue wrapped around and around and around his cock, and then the powerful, slick, smooth muscle squeezed…

Cassidy shouted.

He didn’t mind if it didn’t really count.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, throwing his head back. His hands automatically reached for and grabbed for something, anything, to ground him, and when they usually would have gripped around soft, silken hair, they encountered the hard bone of the black antlers instead, but that was almost more welcome as Cassidy desperately tried to deal with being so, so embedded in hot, slithering, incredible sensation.

But Blue growled, the vibrations rocking his dick from tip to root and beyond, and Cassidy immediately understood.

“S-Sorry there, darling,” he said breathlessly, loosening his grip. He didn’t let go, though. The antlers were hard bone, but they were covered with a fuzzy, velvety kind of felt, and despite the admonishment, he couldn’t help but stroke and caress. That seemed to be the correct thing to do, luckily enough; Blue’s growls faded into an unmistakable purr.

Green whined, and, not letting his tongue loosen from around the base of Cassidy’s cock, he butted and nuzzled against Cassidy’s hand, dark eyes alight with indignation and his lips in a childish pout.

Cassidy raised his head and stared at the undignified and frankly ludicrous display from the huge, imposing figure, but he chuckled. “Alright, alright,” he said soothingly, and he kept one hand on Blue’s antlers, but he reached out with the other to trace the equally fuzzy yellow down on Green’s antlers, and Green liked that a lot.

Blue had his cock encased in the coils of his tongue, so Green proceeded to unwind his from the base of Cassidy’s cock, and then wind it around his balls.

Cassidy sucked in a breath that filled his lungs to the brink but was nowhere near enough to deal with so much heat and movement and electricity.

He groaned. He yelped. He shouted. He moaned.

All the while the dragon-men worked him like a fiddle, with their amazingly dextrous and nimble tongues slipping and sliding across his skin and leaving a flood of pleasure everywhere in their wake. Blue could even selectively wriggle his tongue around Cassidy’s shaft, then furiously wriggle around his leaking, weeping cockhead and make Cassidy writhe before, just before he came, going back to his less-sensitive shaft, leaving Cassidy on a searing precipice, and Green was in an unbelievable synchronicity, squeezing his ballsack with the perfect amount of pleasure before fondling his balls in his coils with a motion that Cassidy wasn’t sure any human had ever experienced before, and it was so good, incredible.

He never wanted it to end.

It was going to, though. He was nowhere near equal to stopping the explosion of cum from bursting into Blue's mouth.

He yelled with each powerful spurt, something he had never done before, and Blue's tongue was so tight around his cock that a lot of his hot cum was trapped between cock and tongue, encasing Cassidy in his own fiery fluid that made the hot, slick muscle around him even more hot and slick, something he wouldn't have believed until this perfect, endless moment as he pumped out jet after jet of semen, with Blue purring and letting out pleased grumbles that only increased the power and duration of each one.

By the time it ended, it felt like Cassidy had squirted half his being out his cock.

And Blue was holding nearly all of it in his mouth.

Green growled.

Cassidy blearily opened his eyes and looked down at a very angry-looking dragon-man, his eyes alight as he stared daggers at Blue, who was apparently completely unconcerned with anything that wasn't Cole’s cock.

Green growled again, and his fingertips sharpened into claws, and Cassidy tensed, not feeling the least bit inclined at ruining his post-orgasmic glow by being directly underneath a fight between two such enormous beings.

Then he felt Blue's tongue loosen.

Blue slowly slid off of Cassidy, making his jolt and tremble from oversensitivity the whole way.

Then he turned to Green, grabbed his face, and crushed their lips together.

Green actually wagged his tail.

Cassidy didn't know what else to call it. 

As Blue dove into Green's mouth with his tongue and his bounty of semen, Green shuddered and moaned and the green tuft of hair at the end of his tail whipped back and forth like the biggest, scaliest dog in the world.

Cassidy watched, enraptured, as the dragon-men kissed with a passion and a familiarity that took his breath away, with Green lapping up his cum out of Blue’s mouth with a nontrivial amount of mess, but every time a droplet began to run down his chin, Blue caught it with his tongue or lips or fingers and fed it back to Green before immediately reclaiming it.

Then, after a unhurried, indulgent few minutes, they broke off from each other’s mouths and swallowed, and Cassidy swore he could feel his own pupils dilate at the sight of their Adam's apples bobbing as his cum slide down their throats, accompanied by pleased rumbles and even a chirp or two.

Then they turned back to him.

===

"Me first," Genji demanded, still smacking his lips, savoring the divine flavor of their mate’s essence.

"No," came the short answer. "I am the elder brother."

"You've already had him!" Genji whined, casting an angry glance at Hanzo. "It's not fair!"

"I'm never fair," Hanzo hummed, completely passing over how he could have simply kept their mate’s essence to himself and left Genji with nothing. "That is the elder privilege. You should know this by now."

Genji growled, and there was very little patience and a great deal of ire in it. That did not concern Hanzo in the slightest, but it did concern their mate, who was looking between the two of them with a very worried look on his handsome, bearded face. 

Hanzo sighed.

Then he clicked his tongue when a thought occurred to him.

"His skin is fragile," he mused, thinking out loud, "but it healed very quickly with some help, more quickly than even ours does."

"So?" Genji hissed, obviously thinking Hanzo was trying to distract him from the matter at hand.

"So," Hanzo said, taking hold of their mate’s leg, ignoring Genji’s possessive hiss, and moving it aside to reveal their mate's entrance, small and dark pink between the round, hairy, muscled mounds of his ass. "He is small, no doubt about it. But properly prepared, he may be able to take us both."

Genji paused, and understanding bloomed in his eyes.

"Alright!" he said with excitement. "Let's prepare him, then!"

===

These two had a volatile relationship, Cassidy thought as he eyed their latest squabble. The language barrier couldn't disguise one thing though: Blue was in charge, and Green didn't necessarily like it. Cassidy could tell from the way Green restrained himself, barely, at a single word or glance from Blue, while Blue himself acted with cool confidence born from always, always having his way. 

The one time Green had impetuously jumped the gun, Blue had leapt in to stay in control.

Interesting. Very interesting. How long had these two dragon-men been together?

But it was a relief when Blue and Green apparently agreed on something, judging from Blue’s smile and Green’s excited chatter.

It was somewhat concerning that they were both staring hungrily at his asshole.

Blue was still holding his leg up and aside, and Green did the same to his other leg, and Cassidy took in a breath as he watched the two crowd together, their goal plain.

He closed his eyes and laid his head back as he felt Green's smooth face and Blue's bristly beard rub against the especially perceptive skin between his asscheeks, a brief warning before they flicked their tongues directly against the puckered ring of his entrance.

His hole clenched closed automatically, but he did his best to relax.

He had an inkling what these two had decided to do, and there wasn't much he could do about it.

He had grown to trust those marvelous tongues, though.

After a very short time of cajoling, the two tips began to lick inside, setting off a tingling, warming sensation.

Surprisingly quickly yet leisurely and slowly, those tongues began wriggling further and further inside him, sometimes intertwining with each other, sometimes pressing ahead of each other, sometimes stroking and rubbing deliciously at his walls, and it didn't take long for him to realize that they were coating his insides thoroughly.

Eyes still closed and letting himself moan and gasp with every wriggle of the tongues embedded so deeply within him, his hand drifted to his shoulder, feeling at the hairy skin, whole and intact after being slashed so deep.

He had the idea that what was happening was a…preventative measure.

He hoped it worked.

===

“Heath re ae,” Genji mumbled.

Hanzo grunted in acknowledgement.

Neither of them stopped.

Their mate was so tight, so hot, so smooth inside, and outside his skin and body hair rubbed against their faces and coated them with his exquisite scent, marking them as his, and both brothers purred with satisfaction when his erection regrew above them, standing tall and proud and leaking once more.

But Genji was right. He was ready, and as wonderful and luscious their mate was speared so deeply on their tongues, it was time to spear him on their cocks.

But Genji could withdraw first. Hanzo wasn’t going to.

And Genji thought the complete converse, so it took a little time before, after a few false starts by both brothers to try to trick the other into leaving and having their mate all to themselves, they slowly, reluctantly, sat back at the same time, with an equal amount of amusement and annoyance at the other’s stubbornness.

There had been one benefit, though: their mate’s hole was absolutely sloppy, dripping with their saliva, and more dripped out as the ring of muscle tried to tighten after being worked so loose.

They could probably spear him on an actual spear and he’d be fine.

“Me f…” Genji started, eyes dark with lust as he drank in their handiwork, his cock full and heavy and dripping nearly as much as their mate.

“I will lay him on myself,” Hanzo cut him off, “and enter him. Then you can mount him from behind.”

Genji growled. “That’s not fair!”

“Once you’re mounted, you never listen to reason,” Hanzo retorted. 

“Neither do you!”

“So that’s why,” Hanzo said coolly, “I will get in a position that will allow you to get on afterwards. You were just going to mount him, and leave me with nothing, and what exactly do you think would be the result?”

Genji grumbled, but it was true. Mounting from behind like a beast was by far his favorite position, and he would have flattened their mate beneath him like he always flattened Hanzo whenever the elder brother was feeling a bit more in heat than in rut, and then Hanzo would have been out of luck and getting driven mad by the sight of his brother enjoying their mate alone.

And an angry dragon was no laughing matter, even for another dragon.

Genji might complain about Hanzo’s seniority, but it was hard to argue when Hanzo was so very consistently right.

“Fine,” he groused, running his hand through his short green hair in exasperation. “But hurry up.”

“We’re only still talking because of you,” Hanzo said, but he was already on the move.

===

It was time.

Cassidy drew in a deep breath as Blue moved forward and, taking a strong but careful hold of his arm and shoulder with his soft, rounded fingers, lifted him up into a sitting position.

Cassidy hadn’t foreseen this scenario and would’ve scoffed if the possibility were presented to him before now, but now that it was upon him, he surprised himself when a thrill of excitement stole through him and went straight to his dick. 

He had always been an overconfident risk-taker, but this took the cake: two dragon-men were about to fuck him, almost certainly simultaneously, with cocks as long and thick as his forearms, yet all he felt, now that it was zero hour, was only sheer enthusiasm.

His ass was full of healing spit. He would be fine.

But as Blue lay down on his back and tugged Cassidy towards him with gentle yet irresistible strength, Cassidy found himself hoping that he was going to get absolutely wrecked.

He let out an impressed chuckle when the huge dragon-man grabbed onto his hips and swung Cassidy over himself like Cassidy’s two-hundred-twenty-pound, six-foot-one frame was a toy, so easily and unconcernedly that he took the opportunity to brush off a few stray blades of grass that stuck to Cassidy’s skin as he went.

Cassidy took the initiative of positioning his legs on either side of Blue’s hips, and Blue smiled, his fangs gleaming in the sunlight, and Cassidy wasn’t gonna lie as he sat on Blue’s abdomen and lay his hands on the golden scales of his chest and began to rub up and down across their smooth, pebbly texture: he was glad he was gonna get fucked face-to-face with this beautiful, dazzling creature. Blue just looked so…elegant. Refined. It was so easy to imagine he had been invited into the opulent, plush bedchamber of a powerful lord instead of laying in the grass in the middle of the forest, and he was glad that he wasn’t going to be double penetrated while getting his face smashed into the undergrowth. He even had the inkling that Blue wanted to see his face in order to make sure he was doing alright as the two dragon-men proceeded, and that was highly comforting.

But if Blue was a lord, Cassidy thought with a chuckle as he felt Green sidle up behind him and began licking at his ear while flicking off a few more pieces of foliage stuck to Cassidy’s back, then Green was his impudent, cheeky younger brother, born into the easy life, bold and cocky and completely sure of himself.

Then Blue broke Cassidy out of his thoughts by shifting him back, and Cassidy shivered at the feel of a truly enormous cock slotting between his buttocks.

It was hard to get a footing on the ground, Blue was so big and wide, but Cassidy made the effort just to get enough leverage to start rubbing against that cock, so big, so hard, and sticking wetly to Cassidy’s skin from the amount of precum leaking out the tip.

Blue’s eyes burned, and Cassidy grinned.

“Well?” he asked, lifting himself up as high as he could but not managing to get anywhere near the top of that cock, which he wanted inside him, and inside him now, “You gonna give me a hand or what?”

Blue grinned.

He took hold of Cassidy’s hips and lifted him up.

Cassidy reached down and pried his asscheeks apart as far as they would go and let out a pleased growl when he felt the pointed, triangular cockhead poke between them.

“Yeah baby,” he grunted, wriggling in Blue’s grip, “let me down, nice and easy. Mmm. Mmm!”

===

Their mate seemed to be fully onboard now.

Hanzo’s breathing quickened as he felt his wet and dripping cock catch and press against his equally wet and dripping entrance, but he was more transfixed by the eager look on their mate’s face, his eyes dark and molten, his mouth falling open as Blue began to enter him, his hands gripping harder at his own skin as he tried to hold himself open wider.

Then he let his head fall back and he let out the most delicious, needy sound Hanzo had ever heard.

Hanzo wasn’t even halfway in.

He wasn’t even a quarter in.

Their mate hadn’t seen anything yet.

And he was so slick, so slippery inside, and so hot and tight around Hanzo’s cock.

Hanzo kept it slow, however, mindful of how small their mate was, but even as he slid him down further and further and really and truly had him impaled, spiked on his thick, girthy cock, their mate showed no sign of discomfort.

He only keened for more, and his voice suddenly hit a tone, a note, that activated the basest, most fundamental part of Hanzo’s brain.

He slammed him down, burying himself balls-deep.

And that base part of his brain crowed in triumph at the massive bulge pressing out from beneath their mate’s furry abs.

===

So full. So full.

Cassidy panted, his hands pressed to his stomach, feeling the mass inside, actually feeling it through his skin, and feeling his innards rearranging and adjusting within, but not out of necessity or duress, but to welcome.

He was full of cock, and also full to the brim of pure electric buzzing ecstasy. 

His eyes were rolling back. He was babbling. He was drooling. He was rubbing his hands up and down his own skin as though trying to stroke the wonderful cock embedded in his core through the layers of his being.

It was beyond anything he had ever imagined or thought possible.

Then he felt hands on his back, pushing him forward.

He went willingly, laying down across the smooth, warm scales of Blue’s abs, nuzzling his face between his ample pecs, leaving a trail of drool as those hands flattened him against Blue.

Then he felt, at the rim of muscle stretched so, so far around the base of Blue’s gargantuan dick, another prod.

And, draping himself over Cassidy’s back and crushing him between the two dragon-men, Green started to press in.

===

“Brother,” Genji panted.

“Genji,” Hanzo breathed back. “Careful, careful…”

“He won’t break, brother,” Genji replied, voice thick with lust. “I can feel him…feel him welcoming me in. He’s stretching so far…can you feel how much he wants us? Can you feel him spreading open, letting me join you inside him? He’s so hot, brother, and he wants us so badly! So, so…ungh!”

Whatever word Genji was looking for was drowned in the sensation of his cockhead rubbing against Hanzo’s, trapped together in the vise of their mate’s body, and Hanzo could feel, from where their mate was sandwiched between them, his cock press even more firmly against his hard abdominals…against Hanzo’s abs, through the tissue and flesh of their mate, pushed there by Genji’s cock claiming its own space alongside his.

“Brother,” Genji hissed. “Can I move? Is he ready?”

Hanzo looked between them. Their mate had the side of his face mashed in the valley between his pecs, his jaw lolling open. He gently reached down and inclined his head slightly so that their eyes could meet. Tears were streaming from their mate’s eyes, but his pupils were full and dilated, his face flush and slack with pleasure. 

They stared at each other for a few moments, then their mate’s gaze became slightly more coherent, just slightly, as though he recognized the unspoken question in Hanzo’s eyes.

Then, gripping his knees into Hanzo’s scales, he managed, despite Genji’s weight bearing down on him, to make the tiniest motion up, off the gigantic cocks lancing into his flesh…

…and back down, fucking himself back until Hanzo and Genji’s balls pressed firmly against his ass.

It was all the dragon brothers needed.

===

“Hungh! Hungh! Hungh!” Cassidy grunted, over and over, as Green pounded, hammered into him.

There was no room for thought, no room for comprehension of any kind. There was only the pressure and the solid masses, both inside him rearranging his innards with each thrust, and outside him encasing him in warm, smooth, shining scales overlaying heavy, massive muscle.

But it wasn’t enough.

From this angle, in this position, it was more difficult for Blue to fuck him, really fuck him, but not impossible, and Cassidy really, really wanted him to make the effort. He needed both of those cocks moving within him. He needed both of them to skewer him.

He needed both of them to claim him.

And, looking up into Blue’s face, dark and blue and ravenous as Green panted and grunted and moved above them both, he could see the want, but also the fear, that the relatively tiny creature between them might not be strong enough to endure two ferocious dragons.

Cassidy didn’t care if he was strong enough.

He needed it one way or another.

So he swept his hands up to grasp and paw at Blue’s jawline, the only part of his face within reach, feeling the fine, soft bristles of his beard, wet and shiny with spit, as he opened his mouth and begged, “Please, honey, please. I need it. I need you both to move. C’mon, sugar, I see how much you want it. Take it. Take me. Fuck me.”

Blue blinked.

Then he snarled.

And Cassidy’s vision disappeared in a flash of white light as two colossal dragon-men with two monstrous cocks fucked into his ass with wild, unbridled abandon.

===

Hanzo and Genji were completely lost in a hazy, heady rush. Nothing about this mating was synchronized or coordinated. They were too loathe to leave the silken embrace of their mate’s body, too anxious to drive back into his soft, tight heat, and the feel of the other’s hard rod, rubbing against each other as they alternately vied and supported each other, fighting and cooperating to carve out space in the welcoming, receptive flesh of their mate, only added to the urgency and chaos.

At times they were thrusting together, leaving their mate unbearably, wastefully empty before filling him so full that his skin stretched and strained against Hanzo, trying to contain them. At other times, they were practically taking turns, Genji joyfully spearing in while Hanzo reluctantly withdrew before Genji regretfully drew out and Hanzo elatedly drove inward, never leaving their mate without one or the other.

But mostly it was an anarchic, feverish mess of the very best kind, with each brother fucking into the perfect incadescent fire of their mate’s body exactly as he pleased, but however they fucked into him, their mate received them and gave them exactly while they needed, and all the while making the sweetest, neediest noises that drove them to ever greater and greater heights.

Small as their mate was pressed between them, it was easy for Genji to find Hanzo’s lips and capture them in a bruising, biting, licking, loving kiss that went on and on and on as the brothers catapulted towards the pinnacle.

They were so lost in themselves that they didn't even notice when their mate’s cum splashed out across the scales of Hanzo’s abs.

Nor when it happened again.

And again.

Despite the turbulent session, however, the brothers reaffirmed their underlying connection by erupting within their mate almost simultaneously.

Moaning, almost crying out into each other's mouths, swallowing each other’s shouts, they came hard, and Hanzo shuddered when he realized he could feel the throb and ebb and flow of their essence through their mate’s skin…at least, until they had filled him up so much that the bulge of their cocks was lost among the protrusion of their semen spilling and filling, spilling and filling him up and marking him, transforming him into their mate, unquestionably, indisputably theirs from the inside out, painted and marked and immersed in their essence so thoroughly that there would not be even the smallest possibility of mistaking him for anyone else's.

As the quakes and tremors died away, leaving them sated, drained, and utterly, wonderfully content, they laid there in the bright sunshine for a long time, lounging in the pleasant hum of the afterglow, their mate safe and secure between them, their cocks almost floating in the sea of semen within him.

Hanzo noted with a smirk that as they had marked him, their mate had marked him, Hanzo, the elder brother, with his semen. He had marked Hanzo first, as was proper. The cooling feel and strong scent of his semen on Hanzo’s scales was a triumph, and he wondered idly when Genji would realize it and would sullenly demand that their mate mark him, too, put out and jealous…especially when it finally occurred to him that Hanzo had planned it out that way.

He was the elder brother for a reason, Hanzo thought smugly.

Genji began to move, and Hanzo sighed as his weight left him and their mate, and in the few moments of peace before Genji realized what had happened and started pouting, Hanzo leisurely examined their mate, flat on his belly and chest, slotted between his pecs, looking completely fucked out and perfect and content.

"Hanzo," Genji murmured.

"I know," Hanzo said smugly.

"What?" Genji asked, glancing at him with a confused look. "No you don't. Come here and look."

"I'm comfortable," Hanzo complained, the petulance that he shared with his brother rushing to the surface.

Genji rolled his eyes. "Then just…just turn him around, then."

Hanzo grunted, but Genji began scooting their mate around, though he was gentle about it for both their mate and Hanzo’s sake, since the motion tugged Hanzo’s cock out to flop wet and heavy against his thigh.

Their mate hardly protested, only murmuring softly as his own semen smoothed the way as Genji more or less rotated him in place until Hanzo was greeted by…

…by his…

…by his huge, gaping hole, dripping with cum.

Hanzo was spellbound. The ring of muscle had unquestionably been stretched further than ever before, and now it was trying to wink closed, but entirely in vain, and all the while, Genji and Hanzo’s essence, pearly and brilliant in the sun, was leaking out in a thick stream over their mate's ballsack in a supremely erotic fashion.

Although…came a small but highly indignant corner of Hanzo’s mind. How was their mate supposed to host their brood if he allowed their essences to leak out before they could unite with his body?

That, along with a helping of curiosity, prompted Hanzo to reach out with a closed fist.

Their mate shuddered, but his body only gave a small amount of resistance, the ring of muscle gripping loosely at his wrist, as his fist entered and sealed up their cum inside his body.

"Wow," Genji breathed, awestruck. "Our mate can do anything!"

"He can," Hanzo agreed with no less awe. His awe grew, though, when he realized he could feel the rim of their mate's entrance tightening and strengthening, gripping more and more firmly around his wrist.

Seized by inspiration, he put his hand on their mate's hip and tugged on him gently, sitting up and careful not to tug on his red, gaping, but rapidly recovering asshole.

Their mate cried out when Hanzo’s tongue licked around the sensitive tissue, soaked with spit.

Hanzo had to quickly withdraw his fist; his theory was proven. As soon as he licked around the swollen, sensitive muscle, it turned a rosy, healthy pink and started rebounding to its normal size. Only a dab or two of cum managed to escape before the once-gaping hole shrank down to a petite, almost cute rosebud once more.

Hanzo and Genji stared.

Then they looked at each other.

Genji grinned, his fangs sharp.

"He's ready."

#shimadacest #requests #my stories #mcshimada #mchanji #hanzo shimada #cole cassidy #genji shimada #anon #genzo #hangen #genhan #yeehan #spuriken #genssidy

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Meet in The Webs (short story)

Grousemane shook out his long fur, grumbling with annoyance at the dirt that clung to it, and wondered when he would become too used to the itch to care. 

He was well away from the Thorns now, or the Eye-Out Thorns, as most were calling them, which wasn’t too surprising considering their long, pointed size and how many times Grousemane nearly poked an eye on them. They would have to make an open space somewhere in the middle if they were to live there longer.

Grousemane paused. Would he continue living with them? Surely they would want their privacy. Was he only a guest?

He kept walking, exploring the strange and quite creepy woods. He slowed when he entered a forest of cobwebs, trees so wrapped he had initially mistaken them as white birches. He looked around in interest, and began to purr at the soft padding beneath his paws when the layers on the grass piled high. 

One particular web caught his eye. It was huge, touching the ground and reaching just above Grousemane’s ear tufts. Twisted tree branches encircled it like the barriers on Twoleg clear-ice, a possible reason for why Grousemane thought that if he tried to look between the strings, it would be like seeing into another world. 

He approached it, admiring the way the webs held strongly together, and nearly fell back on his paws when a pair of bright blue eyes met his. 

He heard a yowl of surprise and thump from the other side of the tree. He stood high as he padded around it, and stared down at the long-furred spotted tom below him.

The tom’s eyes were wide, pupils mere slits. His mouth was gaping open, but he didn’t seem to be breathing. Did he even know he was still on the ground?

“Uh, hello,” Grousemane greeted. “Need help getting up?”

The tom’s mouth shut with a snap. He rose to his paws, but instead of speaking, he only stared more. 

“Er..Okay. I’ll be going now..”

“Wait!” The tom yelped suddenly.

Grousemane raised an alarmed brow. Shrugging inwardly, he sat down and nodded for the tom to say whatever it is he so dearly wished to say.

“Are you…Grouse?”

Grousemane pricked his ears. How did he know? “I’m Grousemane now.”

“So you became a warrior.” There was a small smile that faded quickly. “If only I had been there to witness.”

“Who are you exactly?”

The tom tilted his head. “Can’t you see it? Our eyes, our coats, our patterns. My name is Pigeonfang. I believe you’re my son.”

Now it was Grousemane’s turn to stare, 

stare, 

stare,

and stare some more.

“Are you going to say something?” Pigeonfang finally asked. 

“My father was a warrior?” Grousemane asked. The life of a loner was the only one he had known growing up. The only reason he could be a warrior at all was because Alderstar and Myrtlewing had found him and advocated his entry. Now he was being told that his own father had been a warrior this entire time?

“I left with your mother before you were born,” Pigeonfang explained. There was a hint of sadness in his words. “....It’s why I’m here.”

Grousemane’s head tilted. “Because you abandoned your Clan?”

For a split-second, Pigeonfang’s eyes went tenebrously dark. Then he chuckled tensely. “Something like that!”

Grousemane pulled back suspiciously. “Prove it. What’s my mother’s name?”

“Katniss,” Pigeonfang responded instantly. “She was a kittypet when she met me. I wouldn’t be welcomed in her world, and she wouldn’t be welcomed in mind, so we left both of our homes to be together in a new one. We had such high hopes for the future,” Pigeonfang mumbled.

“But I was a loner,” Grousemane pointed out. “And I became a warrior.”

“That you did.” Pigeonfang smiled sadly. “Maybe things could have been different, if I wasn’t too scared to try.”

Grousemane wasn’t sure what that meant, but he already had so much to wrap his head around, so he decided to save that question for another day.

“Maybe I could have been there to raise you, and you would’ve ended up with your mother, not here, with me.”

Wait–did he think?--Of course he thought–

“Oh! No, I was sent to Starclan. I came here voluntarily.”

Pigeonfang let out a breath of relief, then furrowed his brows in confusion when Grousemane’s words sank in. “Why would you do that? You know what this place is?”

“I do,” Grousemane told him. He studied a blade of grass poking out from the ground of webs. “I thought that my friends were sent here by mistake, and I went to rescue them, and…”

“It was no mistake?”

“It wasn’t.” Grousemane straightened himself. “Neither was going after them.”

Pigeonfang smiled softly. “Good friends, are they?”

“Yeah,” Grousemane replied. Friends, that’s all they’ll ever be.

Pigeonfang’s gaze appeared knowing, and Grousemane wondered how obvious his thoughts were. His soft smile became a full grin, which then became a joyful laugh. “My son! My son is here!” He announced to the Dark Forest. “Come, come! We have a lot of catching up to do!”

The tension melted instantaneously. Grousemane grinned as well as he followed his father through the shadows. “One more question,” he stated, “do you prefer ‘pops’ or ‘dad’?”

============

--Sort of related to the Poly stories, since this takes place during / right after Hoot meeting Alder in the Dark Forest, but could also stand alone.

--Grouse gets some advice from his papa soon!

@starfalcon555

#dark tales #dark forest tales #wc dark tales #pigeonfang #pigeonfang story #grousemane #grousemane story #eye-out family #eye-out poly

[themurphyzone]

BatB AU: Return to the Village

AN: Sorry to leave you on that sad cliffhanger (not really though). 

This chapter is in dedication to Angela Lansbury, who lent her beautiful voice to Mrs. Potts. Rest in peace. 

A03 Link

Ch 17: Return to the Village 

Pinky yanked on Pharfignewton’s reins just before she plunged into the forest, a deafening roar startling him. She halted abruptly, whinnying in confusion. 

“Beast?” Pinky whispered, staring at the looming and dark Gothic castle behind him. It had once been a foreboding sight, but only because he had no idea of the wonders it held within.

The roar came to an end, and there was a strange ache in Pinky’s chest as he listened. 

The Beast’s hesitant touch lingered on Pinky’s cheek, and he remembered how fluffy the Beast’s fur was underneath that prickly exterior. 

His roar wasn’t frightening. Instead, it seemed…sad. Longing. 

“Go to your father, Pinky.” 

Pinky couldn’t get rid of the sound of the Beast’s quiet, gentle order, the feel of his large paw enveloping Pinky’s head, the image of his pink eyes that only stood out more under the rose’s lovely glow. 

But at the same time, the mirror’s image of his father lying alone in the snow, in a remote part of the forest haunted his mind. 

How long had Papa been searching for him? Was anyone else with him? Did anyone know he was out there? 

Dozens of questions flooded through him, but his answers would have to wait. The important thing was finding Papa, and getting him to safety before the cold or hungry wolves got him first. 

Pharfignewton neighed, worry dancing in her blue eyes as she craned her neck towards Pinky. 

"Poit. You're right, Fig. We need to hurry," Pinky said, flicking her reins. But he couldn't shake off his unease as she charged into the forest, the castle quickly disappearing behind the trees. 

But he tried to keep the castle in sight for as long as he could. 

It had been frightening at first. He'd never lived anywhere that had been enormous, dark, and crawling with stone gargoyles before, but the servants welcomed him as an honored guest. 

And any misgivings he had vanished after he and the Beast became friends. In his own awkward, grumpy, and endearing way, the Beast had done his best to make Pinky happy.

Though Pinky wished he could've worn his beautiful golden ballgown longer, he didn't want to ruin Marita's work. So he left behind everything he'd worn at the ball and donned the simple blue dress he'd come to the castle with. 

He'd become spoiled with all the fancy clothes and accessories, unable to resist since Marita and her seamstresses had worked so hard to tailor them to his size. And he enjoyed doing little twirls for the Beast to show them off. The Beast always had the cutest little blush on his cheeks when he did that. 

But now, the blue dress he'd worn in the village felt unfamiliar against his fur, though it was still comfortable for riding. His travel cloak was draped over his head, keeping him warm as the temperature plunged further into the forest.

Thanks to the Beast, Pinky was taking a small piece of the castle with him while keeping part of his mother’s memory alive too. 

A saddlebag knocked against Pharfignewton’s side as she galloped, and Pinky untied the string, pulling out the magic mirror the Beast had gifted him. He could’ve sworn his hand brushed against something wooden, but he could sort through the contents of his bag later. 

He stared at his reflection in the glass, oddly bright despite the darkness. “Mirror, can you help me find Papa, please?” he asked. 

Though he wasn’t sure if the mirror could guide him to wherever Papa was right now, the image shifted to a map of the forest and all its pathways, well-traveled or not. An arrow appeared on the bottom, pointing to the right. 

“Turn right over here, Fig!” Pinky said, yanking the reins to the right. Pharfignewton sharply veered into a denser part of the forest, nearly tripping over a fallen log. 

Though no wolves chased them this time, Pinky's heart raced with fear at all the things that could've potentially happened to his father during their time apart. 

Pinky had missed his father along with the Squirrels every day, and he sent quiet prayers to the skies for their well-being. 

A twinge of guilt took hold within him. He'd been so happy with all of his brand new friends, content with the Beast, and busy trying out things he'd never done before. 

But in the process, he'd forgotten his responsibilities at home.

They needed him. And he wasn't there to provide. 

Home had to come first, not his feelings. 

But then he thought of the Beast, and how lonely he always seemed even though he was surrounded by his servants. Pinky remembered the night he'd lost a piece of his mother's cloak, how scared he'd been that he'd lost it for good, how he could only curl up at the doorway of his bedroom, too afraid to venture into the dark castle to search for it. 

He'd still been wary of the Beast, unsure of how to broach the barrier that was still between them, even though he wasn't nearly as uncaring as first impressions made him seem. 

But when the Beast found him and returned the piece of cloak with great care, Pinky realized the Beast was no stranger to loneliness either. 

It was the first night they'd ever spent together, in the doorway of Pinky's room. 

And it was the night that they'd truly become friends. 

A pang swelled inside Pinky. He couldn't stop thinking about Papa, nor could he stop thinking about the Beast. 

He was torn in two directions, unsure of which way to go. 

Maybe once Papa was better, he could visit the Beast and the rest of his friends.

But at the same time, a visit just wasn't long enough to do everything he wanted to do, or spend time with the Beast. 

Without his best friend, he was lost and directionless, forever wandering in circles and unable to decide what he wanted in life. 

Maybe it was just colder in this part of the forest since there was still snow on the ground, but Pinky sniffled, which he definitely didn't have when he left the castle.

Pharfignewton came to an abrupt halt, and Pinky nearly slammed facefirst onto the saddle. He flicked the reins, but she refused to move, only whinnying softly out of concern for him. 

“I-I’m alright, Fig,” Pinky whispered, blinking back tears that threatened to fall. “Let’s keep moving. Don’t worry about me.” 

Pharfignewton stomped her hoof, her ears pinned back as she let out a frustrated nicker. 

She was usually easygoing, always one to take things in stride. The only time Pinky had seen her truly mad was when Snowball barged into her stable while Pinky was brushing her mane in an effort to talk to him. Pinky had used up his entire apple supply that day just to get her to calm down. 

“We have to find Papa,” Pinky gently reminded her. “We’re getting close.” 

Pharfignewton picked up the pace, but not before swinging her head in a way that Pinky interpreted as ‘this conversation isn’t over’. 

The magic brightened along the edges of the mirror, and the trees went by in flashes of an eerie, otherworldly light. 

This must’ve been the mirror’s way of telling them just how close they were. 

Pharfignewton had to slow down to a trot since the trees were so densely packed in this region. There wasn’t much of a path to follow, just leaves, dirt, snow, and twigs. 

Then the mirror flashed brightly, its light spilling across a disoriented mouse half-buried in a pile of snow. His clothing was tattered, his fur caked with dirt and dead leaves. He couldn’t get up at all, and the only signs of life were his fingers twitching erratically and the occasional ragged gasp. 

Papa. 

The mirror’s light disappeared as Pinky slipped it back into the saddlebag. Then he hastily dismounted Pharfignewton and rushed over to Papa, turning him over so that he laid on his back. 

“Papa…” Pinky whispered as he hugged his father tightly, relieved to find that he was still breathing. He teared up as he held his father close, happy to finally be reunited with him. 

Papa’s eyes didn’t open, but his hand came to rest on Pinky’s elbow. He let out a small moan and murmured something Pinky couldn't make out. 

He would be okay. He was alive. That was all that mattered in the end. 

“Let’s go home,” Pinky said with a tearful smile. “It’s okay, Papa. I’m here now. I’m here.” 

They were heading back to the cottage, the meadows, the hills of wildflowers. They were finally returning home. 

But as he helped Papa onto Pharfignewton’s saddle, a pang of doubt struck Pinky. 

I’m with Papa and Pharfignewton again. I can visit Slappy and Skippy too. But…why doesn't it feel like I'm going home? 

o-o-o-o-o

The forest finally thinned, giving way to a beautiful meadow with gentle, rolling hills and colorful wildflowers. He hadn’t seen the meadow in a long time, and he’d forgotten just how lovely a sight it was.

The cottage was a welcome sight. It wasn’t nearly as extravagant as the castle, but it had its own rustic charm that Pinky missed. 

“We’re here,” Pinky whispered. 

Pharfignewton circled around the side of the cottage, and Pinky stuck his hand out to feel the sprays of water from the waterwheel as they passed. It was cool and misty against his hand. 

As they approached the front of the cottage, Pinky’s ears pricked at a trio of voices coming from the porch. 

“-th-think those ruffians will come back? Wouldn’t we be safer inside the cottage?” 

“Oh, quit being a coward, Plotz. Those cowards won’t stand a chance once they’re staring down the barrel of my rifle.”

“And I’ll smack ‘em good with my trusty beer mug! Haha!” 

“I still say you’re too drunk for watch duty, Jacque,” Plotz grumbled. “We have to be extra vigilant, or we’ll end up like Tom, Dick, and Stanley-” 

Pharfignewton’s hoof came down on a twig, and the three men on the front steps of the cottage jumped to their feet in alarm. 

The largest man out of the trio was Gerard the butcher. He pointed his rifle at Pharfignewton, who whinnied in panic. Next to him, Jacque wielded a half-full beer mug, while Plotz stood behind them, eyes wide with panic as he backed towards the house to try and escape.

“Whoa, it’s just me!” Pinky cried, throwing his hands in the air. “Sorry I scared you! I just got back!” 

Slowly, Gerard lowered his rifle. “Pinky?” he said in shock. “Is that really you?” 

Pinky tilted his head. “Why wouldn’t I be me?”

Gerard sighed. “Great. Another idiot I have to put up with tonight.” 

“I knew it! I told ya, and ya didn’t believe me!” Jacque shrieked, pointing fearfully at Pharfignewton. “It’s the four horsemen of the apocalypse! They’ve finally come to lay waste to the earth!”  

Gerard cuffed him over the head, and Jacque groaned in pain. “Four kooks in town is plenty, Jacque,” he snapped.  

Pinky took notice of the broken door of the cottage as he slung the saddlebag onto his back and helped his unconscious father off Pharfignewton’s saddle.  

“What happened to the door?” he asked. 

“Er…well, you see, Pinky,” Plotz chuckled, rubbing his hands nervously. “Your door was just a little old, so the town’s just taking the liberty of replacing it for you. We thought it would be a nice surprise in case you came back. We just didn’t expect you so soon…” 

“And the parts aren’t here yet, so we were taking turns guarding your cottage from thieves,” Gerard added. 

Oh, so that explained why the three of them were sitting on his porch! He’d never expected the village to do something that nice for him. They were more content to ignore him unless they needed him for something or to mock him for being the village idiot. 

It was really sweet of them to replace his door and guard the cottage. 

Maybe they wanted to change too, just like the Beast. 

They stood aside as Pinky climbed the steps, struggling with the saddlebag on his back and his father, who wasn’t able to do much to help him.

“Well, why don’t you go ahead and settle in? I’d love to help, but I have a little errand to run. The taxes won’t collect themselves, you know!” Plotz said. He turned to Pharfignewton, whose ears were pinned back as Plotz approached her. “Now let’s see if you’re carrying any coins…” 

But she stomped her hoof loudly, her blocky teeth on full display when Plotz reached out for her saddle, grabbing an empty bag on her side. She snapped her teeth with an angry huff. 

“Ahhh!” Plotz shrieked, barely snatching his fingers away in time. He glared at her. “Fine, have it your way. But I’m warning you, if your owner were smarter, you would’ve been glue a long time ago.” 

He slunk away in the direction of town, and was soon out of sight. 

“I’d never turn her into glue! She’s family!” Pinky shouted indignantly, but it fell on deaf ears. 

Nobody in this village understood how much Pharfignewton meant to him and Papa. They wouldn’t have survived constantly moving around France without her hard work and dedication! 

But the castle knew, and though Pinky loved feeding, brushing, and bathing her, it was the first time he didn’t have to do all the work alone. And he enjoyed teaching the Beast about all the best ways to care for her.

Pharfignewton pulled away as Gerard grabbed her reins, rifle slung over his shoulder. 

“Come on, horse,” Gerard said as Pharfignewton dug her hooves into the dirt in defiance. “Let’s get you to a stable.” 

Pharfignewton neighed in protest, turning her head to shake off the reins. 

“Fig, I know you’re a little antsy cause it’s been months since we’ve been home,” Pinky said in an attempt to calm her down. “You’ll feel better once you’re in the stable with some food in your belly. And I’ll see you once Papa’s okay, alright?”

Pharfignewton stopped resisting, though she still wasn’t happy at being handled by Gerard. 

“Yes, take that horse of pestilence away!” Jacque shouted as they disappeared around the back. “Mark my words, the others are sure to come and there’s nothing we can do to stop them!” 

Pinky left him to his ramblings, wishing he had a front door to block out the outside world right now. It was dark inside the cottage, so Pinky had to step carefully, recalling that there was a loose floorboard in the living room somewhere. 

It was strange to be back. When he'd first agreed to stay at the castle in his father's place, he'd spent the first hour of his imprisonment sobbing into his pillow and dreaming of his quaint little cottage. 

Where everything was simpler and less scary looking than all the Gothic decor. 

But now, he'd grown so used to the talking, moving, and dancing furniture. He was sure he was gonna strike up a conversation with a teacup or wardrobe, only to discover that they couldn't talk.

And he'd grown so used to the Beast by his side. Sometimes Pinky felt like he had a huge, grumpy shadow tailing him, but he didn't mind. He just liked the company. 

And now that he wasn't here, the air was just cold and empty.

Papa shifted in his arms, startling Pinky out of his thoughts. 

"Hold on, Papa," Pinky said softly. "You'll feel better once you're in bed." 

He carried his father over to the coziest, warmest corner of the cottage, where a small, mouse-sized bed awaited. Pinky drew the covers of the bed back, tucking Papa underneath before pulling the blankets over his body so that only his head and shoulders stuck out. 

Then Pinky unclipped the saddlebag that had been attached to his back, stretching his limbs to get some feeling back. He had plenty of endurance, but today had been physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting, and his limbs were left sore and aching. 

But his work wasn't over yet. 

He could hear Papa's stomach growl from a mile away. Maybe a bowl of steaming, warm, hearty soup would help. 

Since it was the middle of the night, Pinky couldn't go to the market and buy ingredients, so he'd just have to improvise with the ingredients in the cupboards right now. 

Funny how he hadn't cooked much at the castle. Chef Flavio always insisted that guests shouldn't be expected to cook their meals, politely turning down any offers to help in the kitchen. 

Even his attempts to make tea were met with some resistance from the servants, who always shooed him out when they caught him trying to fill a teapot with water. 

Pinky knew they meant well, but sometimes he wished they'd let him help with the chores or cook in the kitchen. 

He'd never treated the Beast to some homemade ratatouille and no-bake cheesecake, had he? 

There were so many things Pinky wished he could've done with the Beast. Though they'd only spent four months together, it felt like they'd known each other their entire lives. 

As Pinky danced his way into the kitchen, humming the beautiful song he'd waltzed to earlier that night in a dream come true, a shadow's movement from the couch in the living room caught his eye. 

“Hello?” Pinky called. 

There was no answer.

Pinky crept around the couch to see who the shadow belonged to, reeling back in surprise when he came face to face with Slappy Squirrel. She and her nephew were more than welcome to stay for the night if they wanted to, but seeing her after an entire winter away still sent Pinky for a loop. 

“Hi, Slappy! It’s been a while!” Pinky exclaimed. “Sorry I left without saying anything, but I had such a magical winter and it’s a bit of a long story really, and…Slappy?”  

Slappy only stared into the dying embers of the fireplace, not responding to him at all. It was like he was completely invisible. 

And he knew he wasn’t invisible, because he could see his hands and fur just fine. 

“Slappy, what’s going on?” Pinky asked in confusion. “Are you okay? Where’s Skippy?” 

She was grouchy and reclusive, but she had a sharp tongue and wit that Pinky enjoyed listening to. 

She wasn’t acting like herself. 

As soon as he mentioned Skippy, the elder squirrel squeezed her eyes shut and curled up on the couch, turning her back on Pinky. 

She refused to say anything. 

Did something happen to Skippy during Pinky’s time away? 

He didn’t need to look all over the house to know that Skippy wasn’t here. He would be bouncing off the walls and chatting Pinky’s ear off if he were. And Slappy always had a hard time getting Skippy to bed because of his energy. He would’ve been the first at the door to welcome Pinky home, and Slappy would try to get him back to bed because setting bedtimes was what responsible guardians did, only to give up and let Skippy stay awake until he finally crashed. 

Maybe she’d be more willing to talk if she had something to eat too?

Everyone was acting strange. He wished someone would just tell him what was happening. 

Maybe it was just his own hunger talking. That had to be it. 

He’d have to cook a huge pot of soup for everyone. Though Plotz left to run errands, Gerard and Jacque were still here. Maybe they’d accept a hot meal as a thank you for guarding the cottage. 

He rifled through the cupboards in search of something to eat, but the only items he found were two heads of cabbage, a can of beans, and three loaves of half-stale bread. 

It was enough for a cabbage and bean soup with a side of bread tonight, but he would need to go to the market as soon as possible to stock up on food. 

He focused on chopping the cabbage and soaking the beans with water from a pump his father built on the side of the cottage to deliver fresh water from the stream without having to go outside. Once that was finished, he pumped more water into a pot, tossed the cabbage and beans inside, and hung it on a hook by the fireplace, stoking the dying embers until they erupted into a warm, welcoming fire. 

“It’ll be twenty minutes before the soup’s ready. Here’s some bread while you wait,” Pinky said to Slappy’s prone form on the couch. But she only covered her body with her bushy tail. He broke a piece of bread from the loaf for her to snack on while she waited. He didn’t have any jam or butter to put on the piece, but he hoped she wouldn’t mind. “I’ll just leave it here in case you get hungry.”  

He made sure to use the freshest loaf he had for his guests and Papa. That would leave him with only the stale portions, but he wanted to be a good host and son. 

Gerard had returned from putting Pharfignewton in the stable, and was sitting on the topmost step while cleaning his rifle. Jacque was swaying back and forth, drunkenly singing Alouette. 

"Hi, guys," Pinky said. Gerard and Jacque jumped to their feet and faced Pinky, staring awkwardly at him with strange expressions on their faces. Pinky smiled and gave them one bread roll each. "This is my thanks for you guarding the cottage tonight. And I've made extra cabbage and bean soup too. It just needs some time to cook, but I'll save you both a bowl in case you're still hungry." 

Jacque frowned. "Cabbage and beans? That's our thanks? Just the cheapest stuff in your cupboards, eh?" he leered, dropping his share of bread onto the ground and squashing it underfoot. 

Pinky's ears fell at the sight of the squashed dough. One of the best pieces had gone to waste, just like that. 

"I-I'm sorry. P-p-p-poit," Pinky stammered out an apology. He didn't mean to offend anyone. He thought he was doing something nice. "That's all I have right now." 

"P-p-p-poit," Jacque taunted, and Pinky's eyes misted over, blurring Jacque's form. "Snowball feeds us better than this!" 

Gerard ate his bread roll with a grimace. "Don't you have anything with meat?" he asked, not even bothering with a compliment or thank you. 

Pinky shook his head. "I have cabbage, beans, and bread. No meat though…" 

Gerard made a disgusted noise, turning his back on Pinky and refusing to speak anymore. 

Pinky retreated into the safety of the cottage, tail dragging along behind him. He couldn't block out their vicious taunts, no matter how hard he tried.

Freak. 

No wonder why your family keeps moving around! Nobody wants you!  

He wished he could bury his face into the Beast's fur. The Beast didn't seem to know it, but his hugs always comforted Pinky. 

It was too cold without the Beast. 

With two pieces of bread in hand, Pinky trudged to his Papa's bed and despondently sat on a stool.

He'd left the saddlebag on the floor, but he didn't have the strength to take out the mirror right now. 

Pinky put the bread on the bedside table and buried his face into Papa's blankets, trying to clear his head before the soup finished cooking. 

He was home. 

He should be happy that the winter was over, happy that he was back with Papa, happy to be free after all this time.

But freedom came with a price. 

He missed the Warner siblings' humor and cheer, Marita's support, Rita's dry wit, and Mindy's energy. He missed Hello Nurse's helpful advice, Flavio's cooking, and the stablemaster's expertise with horses. 

And most of all, he longed for one of the Beast's warm hugs, the tiny growls in his ear that promised safety from whatever troubled him, whether it was from the world or from his thoughts. He missed bantering with the Beast, whether it was a bad pun that made him laugh, commentary on something they read, or clever retorts when Pinky wasn't pondering what the Beast was pondering. 

Even his grumpiness had become endearing. 

And the Beast tried so hard, every single day since Pinky met him. Some tasks were difficult for him, but he tackled them head-on anyway. 

Even if he failed, he tried his best. Pinky appreciated the effort, and made sure the Beast knew that so he wouldn't give up. 

If the Beast was here, maybe Pinky wouldn't feel so…so icky inside. The Beast had given him the most wonderful night Pinky ever had in his life, and though Pinky wished their dance would never end, it was over now. 

No matter how much Pinky wanted to see the Beast and his servants again, he knew that he couldn't act on that urge.

Not when he had to take care of Papa. 

The blankets shifted, and a hand came to rest on Pinky’s arm. Startled, Pinky raised his head. 

Papa was sitting up in bed, finally awake after all this time. “Pinky, are you okay?” he asked, gently squeezing his arm. 

It had been months since he'd heard his father's voice, or been wrapped up in one of his hugs. He felt like a kid again, clinging to Papa as tightly as he could. 

"Narf…I missed you so much…" Pinky whispered, unable to hold back his tears any longer as his father gently rubbed his back. 

"So did I, Pinky," Papa said, tousling the messy, untamable tuft on Pinky's head. "So did I. But I'm glad you escaped that scary castle without being too roughed up." 

Pinky pulled back from the hug, surprised by Papa's word choice. 

"Escape?" Pinky echoed in confusion. "Papa, I didn't escape. Beast let me go so I could save you." 

"...Beast?" Papa said, eyes widening with shock. "That same horrible Beast who threw me in a cell?" 

Pinky nodded. "The same Beast, but…different too. He was angry when we met him, but…there was more to him than that. I got to know him over the winter, and I realized he was lonely and scared and sad. I remember feeling that way, and it's icky. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. And we…we weren’t so different after all. And we got to be friends." 

Papa was silent as he took in everything Pinky said. Pinky's ears fell. 

"Papa, I swear I'm telling the truth-" Pinky began, and Papa squeezed his hand in reassurance. 

"You shouldn't swear, Pinky," Papa scolded. "It's not nice." 

Pinky only stared at him. 

"Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood," Papa admitted with a sheepish chuckle. When Pinky didn’t reply, Papa’s laugh tapered off. “Now why don’t you pass me that bread and tell me a little more?” 

Pinky grabbed the two rolls of bread off the table and offered the better one to Papa. But Papa reached over and took the stale piece instead. 

“Papa, hold on. That’s-” Pinky began, trying to take it back, but Papa held it out of reach. 

“-the stale one, I know,” Papa said. “I may be sick, but I still have all my teeth, Pinky. One stale roll won’t hurt me. Besides, you look like you could use a good roll.” 

He tried to take a bite, but was only able to break off a tiny piece. He grimaced as he chewed with considerable effort. 

“Well, if this roll doesn’t knock ‘em all out at first,” Papa tried to joke again. 

Pinky managed a tiny smile and nibbled on his roll, though he wasn’t particularly hungry. His mind wandered to that wonderful dinner with the Beast earlier that night, which seemed like a lifetime ago now. 

“...I’m making cabbage and bean soup too,” Pinky said. “Is that okay?”

Jacque and Gerard had reacted poorly to the dish. Maybe he should’ve tried to scrounge for more ingredients in the garden, or-

But Papa placed a comforting hand on Pinky’s shoulder. “That sounds wonderful, Pinky.”

Pinky sighed in relief. 

“You really fixed up your mother’s cloak, Pinky,” Papa said, feeling the fabric of his cloak with one hand. “It looks like she bought it yesterday.” 

“I didn’t fix it up, Papa,” Pinky said quietly. “Beast gave this to me after I ripped Mama’s cloak to bandage him cause he got hurt while saving me from a wolf.” 

When Papa only stared at him, Pinky took a deep breath and explained everything. How he’d wandered into a room he wasn’t supposed to be in, how the Beast had caught him and scared him so badly that Pinky had fled the castle entirely, the wolf that cornered him and Pharfignewton, the Beast’s sudden appearance and battle with the wolf, and finally, how the Beast had successfully chased off the wolf, only to collapse from his injuries. 

“...I couldn’t just leave him in the cold when he saved my life,” Pinky admitted. “I didn’t have any bandages, so I used Mama’s cloak instead.” 

“He really saved you?” Papa asked in surprise. 

Pinky nodded. He remembered the remorse in the Beast’s eyes as he collapsed, how vulnerable he was in the snow, and the confusion and helplessness in his reaction when Pinky wrapped the scrap of cloth around his arm. 

“He did,” Pinky said quietly. "I bandaged him properly at the castle, and he was pretty stubborn about it, but eventually he let me patch him up. Then I had a fever cause me and Fig fell into a river while the wolf was chasing us, and everyone in the castle came to see how I was doing. Even Beast. He tried not to let it show, but I knew he just wanted me to be okay. Then I got better, and I lost the only piece of cloak I had left. Beast returned it to me, and we became friends. This new cloak was a nice surprise, Papa. He threw his cape over me so I wouldn’t peek. And you’d love the library if you saw it. I’m not much of a reader, but it’s still one of the prettiest places I’ve ever seen.” 

He remembered the sunlight flooding into a dark room, pulling the cloak off his eyes, and a vast room filled with books and curved staircases and shelves with all sorts of fun little knickknacks to play with. And most of all, he remembered the purple cloak silhouetted against the sun, the overwhelming joy he’d felt when he hugged the Beast for the first time, and being rewarded with a rare, hesitant smile. 

Pinky showed Papa a light patch on the cloak. It was sewn in so seamlessly that it blended perfectly with the darker fabric around it. 

“...I told him about Mom. He knew this was her cloak, and he had his servants sew it into this one so I wouldn’t lose it again. And I told him how she…passed away. The baby too.”

Papa stared down at his bread roll, one hand clutching his chest, the memory of his late wife and unborn child paining him. 

“...you really told him?” Papa asked quietly. 

Pinky nodded. “I trust him. And…I wanted to tell him. I know we always said it was an accident, but…there was more to it than that. We lost two members of our family, and our home that day. I just thought…it would be nice if someone knew. That I didn't have to carry it all by myself. And you know what he did?"

Papa shook his head. 

"...he hugged me," Pinky whispered, and he wrapped the cloak around himself to recreate the feeling of the Beast's warm embrace that night. "And he surprised me with a ball and 

I wore this beautiful golden gown, and he was very handsome in his suit, and we shared the loveliest dance together. It was very sweet of him to organize all that, and all the servants pitched in too.” 

Pinky wiped away the tears that sprung up at the corners of his eyes. Just a few hours ago, he’d had the most wonderful, magical night in his entire life. 

But like all dreams, it had to come to an end. It was time to face the facts. 

He was a peasant and a bona fide village idiot. 

He wasn’t a princess at all. 

And most importantly, he needed to take care of his Papa. Home came first, even though it meant he couldn’t see the Beast and the rest of his friends. 

I don’t think I know what home is anymore. 

“I’m sorry, Papa…” Pinky whispered, the guilt gnawing away inside him. “I’m happy to see you again. I really am. But the castle…they all accepted me. Even though I’m just a silly, stupid peasant mouse. I just…belonged in a way I never did before.”

Papa was silent as he took in everything Pinky said. 

“You were happy there, weren’t you?” he asked quietly. 

Pinky nodded. “Beast was always there for me. He was mean and scary at first, but I think he just needed a friend to help him understand things. He cares, but he’s afraid to let it show. But he tries so hard, and he doesn’t give up. He helped me read Cinderella to Mindy. He has a very soothing reading voice, and I almost fell asleep when I was listening to him because I felt so relaxed. And he’s determined, clever, witty, and sometimes grumpy, but he makes the cutest happy growlie noises if you scratch him behind the ear just right. We cuddled in the library almost every night, and I knew I was safe as long as he was there. His fur is a little prickly on the outside, but also very soft and fluffy underneath. And he can be a little shy, but also sweet once he tries to open up. And…and I-” 

Pinky had to stop. Suddenly, he was short of breath, and his heart thumped wildly as butterflies fluttered in his stomach. 

“You know, there’s a sort of glow around you when you talk about him, Pinky,” Papa said. When Pinky tried to look at his body to see if he was really alight, Papa gently stopped him. “It’s the type of glow that only happens when-” 

A loud snore interrupted him.  

Papa stopped talking, his ears pricked to see where the sound was coming from. Pinky looked around too, thinking that it might’ve been Slappy, but her snore had more of a raspy quality to it. Then he realized the saddlebag he’d left on the floor was rising up and down. 

Curious, Pinky climbed off the bed and opened the bag. 

The handle of a silver mirror spilled out, along with a very familiar mantle clock who snoozed away at Pinky’s feet. 

“Wakko?” Pinky exclaimed, shaking him awake. “Wakko, how did you get into my bag?” 

Wakko stretched, yawned, and sat up. He scratched his head with one brassy arm. “Faboo, Pinky! Your bag was really comfy! I didn’t know the ride ended at all!” 

He was wide awake now, launching himself at Pinky for a hug. Pinky hugged him in return. He hadn’t expected to see one of his friends from the castle so soon, but they would always be welcome in his cottage. 

Were Yakko, Dot, or anyone else here too? Pinky checked each flap of the bag in case someone was hiding there, but he didn’t see anybody else. 

“Hi, Pinky’s Papa!” Wakko exclaimed as he hopped onto the bed and embraced the old mouse. “It’s been months since I’ve seen you! Did you do something new with your mustache?” 

Papa chuckled as Wakko played with the fur on his upper lip. “Never thought I’d see you again. How have you been?” 

Wakko grinned, his tongue sticking out playfully. “Oh, I’m alright. So are Yakko and Dot and Rita and Hello Nurse and Squit and Buttons and-” 

“-and Beast?” Pinky said hopefully. 

Wakko’s playfulness vanished, and he sat on the edge of the bed, his wooden, blocky legs dangling over the edge. Confused by Wakko’s sudden change in mood, Pinky’s smile dropped. 

“He misses you a lot,” Wakko admitted. “We can hear his roars clear across the castle.” 

He does? I know he seemed sad in the West Wing when he sent me away, but…

Looking back, he’d never asked the Beast why he was sad. The Beast had been trying to tell him something important, and maybe Pinky leaving before he could tell him that important thing made him upset?  

“Does Beast know you hid in my saddlebag?” Pinky asked quietly. 

“Only my siblings do. Yakko tried to stop me, but Dot convinced him to let me talk to you. To see if you wanted to come back, I mean. You’re not leaving forever, are you?” Wakko asked, and his sad tone tugged at Pinky’s heartstrings. “Cause we all really miss having you around. It’s not the same anymore.” 

“That’s very sweet of you, Wakko, but I’m sorry,” Pinky stammered. “The soup should be ready now. I…I should really check on it. Excuse me.” 

Pinky ignored the puzzled looks Papa and Wakko gave him as he fled the room, wishing he'd pushed for Papa's side of the story more. 

He still didn't know where Skippy was, or why Slappy barely responded to anything, or how Papa stumbled into such a remote part of the forest by himself. 

Maybe the soup would help Slappy? He hoped so. 

He grabbed several bowls from the kitchen and carried the heavy stack to the fireplace. There was one for Slappy, one each for Jacque and Gerard, one for Papa, and one for himself, though he didn't feel particularly hungry. 

He set a bowl aside for Wakko too, though he didn't spoon any liquid for him since he didn't eat. 

Though Yakko and Dot knew their brother was with Pinky, did anybody else realize he was gone? They must be worried sick.

But once the weather was better, and Papa was healthier, maybe he could spare a few hours and return Wakko to the castle. He could visit all his friends. 

He could see the Beast again. 

But then I'd just have to leave all over. 

Though he needed to save his father, it was hard enough to set aside the golden ballgown and leave without barely saying goodbye to everyone. 

Pinky stared down at his reflection in the soup-filled bowl. 

"Poit," he whispered to his reflection. "Sorry, I'm just so confused right now…" 

"Well, there's a shocker."  

Pinky jumped, the smug voice startling him so badly that he spilled soup on the carpet. 

Looming above him was a sharply dressed man in a stylish black suit with red and gold accents. His mustache was neatly trimmed, and his dark hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail. A dark fire burned in his beady, coal-black eyes, an unsettling smirk gracing his lips. 

The Proprietor. 

Pinky had heard stories about the Proprietor, a man so cruel and sadistic that the institution he ran was rumored to be the gateway to hell. 

But he was mostly mentioned as a way for parents to scare their children into obedience. 

And now he was in Pinky's cottage, beckoning flames from the fireplace to dance on his long fingers. 

"You have a nice fire going there," the Proprietor said casually, like he was talking about the weather. "Shame it's being used for such a bland soup when there's a billion fiery methods for eternal torment." 

“Th-thanks,” Pinky stammered, spilling soup on the floor as he tried to ladle it into the bowl with shaking fingers. “Would you like a bowl, Monsieur Proprietor? There should be enough for one more.”

Whether he was nervous from the Proprietor being in his cottage, or just trying to calm himself down before he returned to Papa and Wakko, he wasn’t sure. 

“Please, just call me Monsieur Itch. Proprietor doesn’t roll off the tongue as well, don’t you think?” Itch said as he pulled out a business card from one of his lapels and handed it to Pinky. “But I digress. I’m here on important business, not a social call.” 

He snapped his fingers. 

Jacque and Gerard entered the cottage. Jacque stomped straight to Papa’s bedroom while Gerard slung Slappy over his shoulder. Her arms dangled lifelessly, bushy tail completely limp as he carried her outside. She wasn’t fighting back at all. 

Jacque followed moments later, holding Papa with both hands as the old mouse struggled and thrashed in his tight grip. 

“Get your hands off me!” Papa shouted, only to break into a hacking cough as the chill of the night hit him. Jacque was far stronger than he was. 

“Hey, put him down!” Pinky cried as he hurried out of the cottage after them. “They haven’t eaten yet, where are you-” 

His protests died in his throat at the sight before him. 

The entire town was right outside his cottage, wielding burning torches above their heads. They jeered as Slappy and Papa were carted over to an imposing wagon. 

The blacksmith, the baker and his wife, the miller, the cobbler, the merchants at the market, and even the local priest were here. 

And they were all encouraging this. 

Maison des Lunes was written on the wagon’s side in hellish red lettering, and the heavy doors were held wide open by the villagers as Slappy and Papa were roughly thrown into the hold.

“Not to worry, Pinky. We’ll take good care of them,” Mr. Itch smirked. 

Pinky’s heart sank. Slappy and Papa didn’t deserve the Maison des Lunes! It was an awful, evil place, and he would never wish that fate on anyone!

“They don’t deserve this!” Pinky cried, trembling as he tried to hold back his tears. With everyone pointing and laughing and mocking him, several stray tears slipped out. “Please let them go!” 

“Oh, we’ll let them go alright!” Plotz scoffed, pushing his way to the front. “As soon as Slappy Squirrel pays her dues and the old codger stops talking nonsense about that beast! This’ll teach ‘em to not be crazy!” 

"But there was a beast! I'm not lying about that!" Papa shouted. "With horns and fangs and claws-" 

But Plotz only laughed, making a fast loop by his ear with his finger. 

"Well, you don't get much crazier than that!" Plotz cackled.

For the first time, painful reality hit Pinky. He was alone, and he couldn't call for his friends for help or the villagers would mock them too. Maybe the Beast would know how to deal with the crowd, but Pinky didn't want to put him in this situation. It wouldn't be fair to him. 

Behind him, Wakko peeked around the doorframe, but Pinky gestured for him to stay back. He didn't know how they'd react to a talking mantel clock. Wakko didn't look happy about it, but he obeyed. 

"Jacque, Gerard, please, I…I thought you were guarding the cottage until the parts for the new door came," Pinky stammered. 

But Jacque only laughed, and Gerard rolled his eyes. 

"And you believed us?" Jacque asked with a toothy smirk. "Boy, you're even more gullible than I thought!" 

"We had an obligation to keep watch for your return. Otherwise, we wouldn't bother," Gerard added. 

They weren't helping him out of the goodness of their hearts. And they'd lied! People that he'd known for years, well, the truth was that he hadn't known them at all, if they'd hidden how they wanted to throw Papa and Slappy into the Maison des Lunes for all this time. 

"Why?" Pinky whispered. "I don't understand. Why are you doing all this?" 

An arm draped around his shoulders in what was supposed to be a gesture of comfort, but only felt restraining instead. 

Too late, he realized Prince Snowball had been watching everything from the sidelines, content to watch the villagers throw Papa and Slappy into the wagon without lifting a finger. 

"Poor Pinky," Prince Snowball shook his head, like he was scolding a naughty child. "If you'd been cooperative from the beginning, we could've avoided all this trouble. But alas, I am forced to take drastic action to ensure my ascension to the throne.” 

Pinky tensed in Snowball’s tight hold. It was nothing like the Beast’s, whose touch was often hesitant, but comforting too. But Snowball’s hand was like ice, lacking the warmth of the Beast’s. 

“Please, Snowball,” Pinky pleaded. “They don’t deserve this. You know they don’t.” 

But Snowball only shrugged. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, Pinky. Truly I am. But as a prince, I must regrettably make tough decisions. However, I might be able to clear up this little…ah, misunderstanding on one condition.” 

“What do you want then? Is it money?” Pinky asked, though he had a sinking feeling that Snowball wasn’t after something monetary in nature. “Cause I don’t have any right now, but I’m sure I can scrape something up if you give me some time and-” 

“My crown alone is worth more than all the wages you’ve ever earned in your life,” Snowball smirked. “But, if you become my queen, you could have a crown just like this one. You would never be impoverished again, and your father and that irritating squirrel shall never be admitted to the Maison des Lunes. My offer is a rather generous one, so think carefully, if you have anything besides fluff between your ears.”

Pinky wrenched himself away from Snowball’s iron grasp. He had nowhere to run, no safe refuge in the village. 

“What?” he whispered. He hadn’t thought much about Snowball during his time at the castle, apart from the occasional relief that he wouldn’t have to deal with him. 

But Snowball only smirked. “No need for alarm, Pinky. Of course, it’ll take some time to get you up to speed with the civilized ways of French royalty. Etiquette lessons, finer clothes, erasing your peasant heritage and replacing it with a background more befitting of the bourgeoisie, and…oh, how could I forget? Voice lessons are in order, of course. You’ll need to rid yourself of those annoying verbal tics of yours to fit in.” 

Beast never told me to erase narf or poit or zort…. 

“One little word, Pinky,” Snowball said. “That’s all it takes.” 

The stress of tonight finally spilled over, and Pinky’s fists clenched together. “No!” he snapped. “I won’t become your queen, Snowball! You don’t care about me at all, you just want me so you can have the throne! Well, you can look somewhere else! Because no means no!” 

The crowd gasped at Pinky’s defiance, but Snowball simply folded his arms and shook his head in disappointment. 

“A pity it had to come to this,” Snowball growled. “So you won’t become a queen at all? Not even if it meant saving your loony father who won’t shut up about a beast? How selfish.”

Even at his worst, the Beast heard him out when Pinky offered to trade himself for his father. But Snowball wouldn’t listen to him at all. Whatever Snowball wanted, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

Too late, Pinky realized that his refusal meant that Papa would be locked away. Forever. 

And that wasn’t worth his freedom. Horrified, Pinky turned to his father to plead forgiveness, he would take it back, he would agree to the marriage if it meant-

But his father fixed him with an unusually stern gaze that made Pinky feel like a small child again. 

“Don’t take it back, Pinky!” Papa shouted over the roar of the crowd. “Take your freedom and run! Slappy and I will be alright if it means you and Skippy can walk free!” 

No, you won’t be fine! 

The Maison des Lunes showed no mercy to anyone unfortunate enough to land themselves in a cell. 

But there was nothing he could do to convince them that Papa wasn’t crazy, that he wasn’t making up the story of a beast in a castle, nothing Pinky could say that would make Snowball change his mind-

Wait! 

In a flash of inspiration, Pinky hurried inside the cottage, passed by a stunned Wakko, and pulled the silver mirror out from his saddlebag he’d left in the bedroom. 

If he just showed them the Beast was real, they’d have to believe Papa was right! Then nobody would think Papa was crazy and try to throw him into an asylum! 

“Beast is real and I can prove it!” Pinky yelled as he rushed outside, though the crowd just scoffed and rolled their eyes. He held up the silver mirror. “Show me Beast!” 

As soon as he said the magic words, the mirror flashed a bright green, and Pinky held up the mirror as high as he could for all to see. 

The crowd gasped, recoiling in wide-eyed horror. Snowball and Itch hid their surprise better, but were still unprepared for the loud, mournful roar erupting from the Beast’s throat. 

“Is he dangerous?” a woman cried out, clutching her baby like she was afraid the Beast was suddenly going to come out from the mirror and rip the baby away from her.

Pinky quickly descended the porch, trying to dispel the villagers’ concerns. “He isn’t dangerous,” Pinky said, silently begging for someone to believe him. “Please, I know he looks scary, but he works hard at everything he does, and he’s a little shy, but he gives warm hugs and dances beautifully and reads stories to me at night, and he was actually very sweet once I got to know him. But most of all, he’s my…he’s my friend.” 

We’re friends, aren’t we? Isn’t that…the right word? 

But ‘friend’ didn’t describe just how dear the Beast had become to him. 

His heart fluttered as he gazed at the Beast’s image, wishing he could reach through the mirror and touch his fur. 

“Don’t tell me you actually have feelings for that monster!” Snowball scoffed as he stomped up to Pinky, jabbing his chest with an accusing finger.  

Snowball had no right to call the Beast something so awful! He didn't know him, bond with him, or cuddle or dance or dine with him like Pinky did! 

"He's not the monster, Snowball!" Pinky snapped. "You are!" 

The villagers gasped at Pinky’s accusation.  

But Pinky's bravado vanished as Snowball's ice-cold hand seized his wrist and wretched the mirror from his grasp. But what truly stunned Pinky was the cruel glare Snowball gave him, his casual, self-assured demeanor gone. 

It was replaced by something truly spiteful, fueled by bitterness and rage. 

"You're just as insane as that old mouse who sired you," Snowball growled, shoving Pinky away from him and walking away with the mirror. 

"Give my mirror back!" Pinky shouted, but nobody would listen to him. 

Pinky tried to reach for the mirror, desperate not to lose his connection with the Beast, but Snowball was already surrounded by villagers, surrounded by rising flames. The mirror was held high over Snowball's head, the villagers glaring hatefully at the Beast's image. 

Could none of them see what Pinky saw in the mirror? 

The Beast's roar was sad and longing, not scary at all even though it thundered above the flames. 

Snowball dropped the mirror carelessly and raised his royal scepter, lip curling with disgust at the image of the Beast. 

"The Beast is a threat to this village!" Snowball declared, slamming his scepter onto the wooden fencepost on which he stood with such force that it nearly dented the scepter. "He will steal your children in the night as you sleep!" 

The women gasped, holding their children in protective embraces. 

"He will raid your crops, ransack your mills, and destroy your livestock to feed his insatiable appetite!" Snowball shouted. "There won't be any coop or stable he hasn't broken into!" 

The men clutched their pitchforks tightly, their torches burning like an inferno. 

“And once your livelihoods are destroyed, he will pick you off one by one! Starting with the young, the elderly, the sick and lame and anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path! If we don’t rise up and take action now, then there will be no village left to defend!” 

He had to stop Snowball from feeding everyone these terrible lies about the Beast! But as much as Pinky tried to worm his way into the crowd, tried to shout Snowball down, tried to beg everyone to reconsider, his pleas went ignored. 

“We won’t be safe until we kill the Beast!” 

Pinky’s blood ran cold.

With Snowball’s final decree, the villagers went into a frenzy as they armed themselves with knives and guns and any other weapon they could find. 

“Kill the Beast! Kill the Beast! Kill the Beast!” they chanted endlessly, surrounded by hellish red flames and plumes of dark smoke. 

Pinky covered his ears, but he couldn’t block out that horrible mantra. It pierced through his heart and soul, repeating itself endlessly in his mind. 

If you hadn’t shown them the Beast, they wouldn’t be trying to kill him!  

“Please stop! You know he’s never gone after the village before!” Pinky cried. “You didn’t even believe he was real ten minutes ago! He’s my friend, he won’t do those things Snowball says he’s doing!” 

But nobody listened. 

The men were already leaving behind parting words for their wives and children. Two young boys even tried to follow their fathers into the fray, but were held back by their mothers. 

“Do you see what that monster has done to poor, simple Pinky over there?” Snowball roared as he mounted his enormous horse. “He has placed a wicked spell on Pinky, forcing him to believe that the creature was his friend, but we all know it’s just a ploy to lower our guard and render us vulnerable!” 

He’d never been forced to be the Beast’s friend! They just found some common ground, that’s all there was to it! 

But Pinky’s throat wouldn’t work. He couldn’t tell them the truth about the Beast, not that anyone would believe him. His legs gave out, exhausted by the emotional stress of not knowing where home was anymore and discovering that people he’d known for years were willing to murder someone he cared about dearly. His tail dragged lifelessly on the ground, his ears limp against his back. 

Tears streamed down his face, the world blurring around him. 

Papa and Slappy would be taken away. The Beast and the entire castle were in danger. 

It’s my fault. I’m sorry, everyone…

The Beast would never want to be friends with him if he’d known that Pinky had sent his village to kill him in cold blood. Pinky didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to be friends with himself either. 

His ears pricked up at the heavy clopping of hoofsteps. 

Pharfignewton? 

But doubt clouded his mind, and the horse in front of him was too large and dark to be Pharfignewton. 

And Snowball was its rider, looming above him. His pink eyes burned a demonic red. 

“Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention,” Snowball said pleasantly, like he hadn’t just incited a mob to murder Pinky’s dearest friend. “My reign shall be secured once the Beast is slayed.”  

“...h-he didn’t do anything to you. Snowball, y-you know this is wrong-” Pinky begged. 

Why was he the only one who could see that? 

“Silence! That monster is a threat to my kingdom, and it must be dealt with accordingly!” Snowball snarled, his faux pleasant voice disappearing completely. “And I won’t tolerate your disrespect any longer. You will address me properly as your Prince or face the consequences. Monsieur Itch!” 

Itch stepped through the bonfire with a wicked smirk, the flames not fazing him at all. 

“Guard that simpleton for me until this ordeal is over,” Snowball ordered. “Throw him in with the others. Don’t let him escape, or he might try to warn the monster himself. I will come for him once the Beast has been slain.” 

“I knew things were bound to get interesting,” Itch said, and a searing hot hand clamped around Pinky’s tail. 

Pinky tried to free himself, but he could only dangle uselessly in the air. 

Snowball and the mob vanished into the night, their ‘kill the Beast’ mantra ringing through the forest. And Snowball had taken the mirror with him, the Beast’s final gift stolen away forever. 

Itch hurled Pinky into the wagon, and Pinky slammed into the unforgiving floor. Papa was at his side in an instant, drawing Pinky into a tight, comforting hug. 

But Pinky could only sob into his father’s shoulder. He knew he didn’t deserve this, not when it was his fault that everyone he cared about was in danger. 

But he selfishly clung to his father anyway. 

“Now don’t give me that glum look,” Itch scolded. “Cheer up. We’ll have plenty of fun before he comes back.” 

And the wagon door slammed shut, trapping them in darkness. 

End AN: You know, Belle’s return to the cottage and the village showing up to take her father away seems like a scene that isn’t talked about enough.

Belle is a strong character, but if you think about the scene from her POV, she leaves someone she loves dearly (even if she doesn’t know it yet) and all her friends behind, she’s caring for her ailing father, then the asylum director shows up at her door and tells her that he’s taking her father away, then she discovers just how low Gaston is willing to stoop to force her into marriage, she and her father are mocked and humiliated and called crazy by the entire town, and as if all that wasn’t enough, Gaston incites a mob to kill the Beast all because she rejected him.

I’m kinda disappointed that I haven’t seen a BatB fic that would cover how she felt about all that in the aftermath. It would definitely make a good post curse hurt/comfort story.

I chose Wakko as the Warner who would go chasing after Pinky cause he hasn’t really gotten a chance to shine much in this story. I find that Yakko and Dot tend to do all the talking while he does his own thing in the background. The next chapter will be his POV.

#pinky and the brain #beauty and the beast au

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 3: Magic Stones of Twin Cities

Narrated by no one.

Narrator: A long time ago, two twin sisters lived together. The elder one was named Erinka, and the younger one Erika.

Narrator: Erinka always danced as she swept through the market in the early morning, welcoming the dawn and returning home with a full load.

Narrator: Erika loved poetry and could sit still and stare at a flower all day, trying to come up with the perfect verse about it.

Narrator: They often fought. You’d mostly hear the impatient older sister, but the younger sister’s silence caused more tension.

Narrator: One day, the noise from the kitchen shattered the morning’s tranquility once again. After a tumultuous exchange, Erinka stomped and complained.

Erinka: Snow on high, how do you meed up breakfast even when you get up two hours early to make it?

Erika: Sorry I’m out of it... It’s maybe because I had a strange dream last night...

Erinka: What dream? Do you want to talk about it?

Erika: In my dream, I saw twisted colors and light spread over the sky, but... it was only over the forest on the Noddley snow peak.

Erinka: We always went together, and I’ve never seen that before. I told you not to stay up all night dreaming up poetry.

Erika: I know it’s just a dream, but it feels foreboding... If I’m wrong, though...

Erinka: You think too much. We’ll go take a look in the forest and settle it. You know what, let’s go right now!

Erika: But Erinka, we haven’t finished making breakfast yet...

Erinka: There’s berries along the way! Move your feet, Erika!

Narrator: Erinka took Erika to the foot of Mount Noddley, and the vision in Erika’s dream appeared...

Narrator: Strange motes of light floated in the air, dancing like a sea of luminous fairies.

Erinka: Look, Erika, the glowing lights look like they want to dance with me!

Erika: Such wonder and beauty... It makes me want to write a poem for such a scene.

Narrator: The lights few around them before floating toward the depths of the snowy mountains, seemingly beckoning them to follow.

Narrator: The winding path became smaller and it turned into a steep slope of bushes and unknown flowers. They rustled in the darkness.

Narrator: The sisters held hands and did not once let go. They ended up stepping on fallen tree trunks to cross the rushing river.

Narrator: On the other side, the light stopped under an ancient tree. It lit up a hole in the tree as if opening a door through time and space.

Narrator: They who looked at each other, walked into the light, and were immediately surrounded by nothing. Twisted, colorful light filled the sky.

Erika: Erinka, this is my...

Erinka: It’s what you saw in your dream! I see it, too!

Narrator: The light gradually faded. Everything became calm again, but now both of them had a gleaming stone in their hands.

Narrator: Erinka’s store had a crimson sheen, while Erika’s had a white luster.

Narrator: Miraculously, these stones depended on each other. Even if they were taken far apart, their magic would tie them back together again.

Narrator: They were just like the two sisters. They may argue or fight, but nothing could ever separate gem.

Narrator: They cherished the magic stones and often returned to Mount Noddley to scrub and shine the stones with hot spring water.

Narrator: When they did this, at night, the stone would emit a soft glow like two little lamps.

Narrator: The sisters grew each day until finally one night, they talked about the future in the magic stones’ lot.

Erinka: I wish that I could live somewhere were the balls ad parties never stopped

Erika: Then I wish... I hope I’ll live somewhere where I can quietly read poetry... And be surrounded by falling snow.

Narrator: The magic stones flickered. Bright beams of light cracked the night and pointed in a familiar direction.

Narrator: The two sisters when to the forest again, holding their magic stones and following the light. They came to a fork in the path.

Narrator: Both paths had a sign. One read “Red Castle: City of Lights and Balls.” The other read “White Castle: City of Snowflakes and Poetry.”

Erika: Erinka, aren’t these the lives we’ve wanted... But this also means... we’ll have to part ways to go on our own job.

Erina: What are you talking about? The magic stones will always find each other. As long as we have them, we will meet again!

Narrator: So Erinka and Erika both followed their own trail all the way south.

Narrator: At the end of the path there were two castles. One was covered in warm lights, and the other was covered with ice and snow.

Narrator: The residents of Red Castle excitedly danced around Erinka.

Red Castle Resident: There is a prophecy that a young girl with a red magic stone will come here. You are the queen we have been waiting for!

Narrator: The residents of White Castle candidly offered Erika hot tea.

White Castle Resident: We’ve waited for a young girl to come here with a white magic stone because of the prophecy. Please become our queen.

Narrator: Although these requests surprised them, the cities before them were surprisingly beautiful, and their residents were lovely.

Narrator: The two castles ushered in their respective queens, but Erika and Erinka were still thinking about one another.

Narrator: The magic stones led them again, and the dancing light pointed towards a river. The sisters stood on opposite banks.

Narrator: The magic stones the sisters held created a bridge that stretched across the river. On the bridge, the two finally held hands again.

Narrator: The magic also conjured an extension of Erinka’s hand: a Servant of the Void. And it created another eye for Erika: a crystal ball.

Narrator: When the colorful lights shone that year, a festival called Starsnow came with the falling snow. It brought blessings to all.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

#erika #shining nikki #ur designer #christmas #hell event #transcript #chapter 3 #magic stones of twin cities #magic stones #white castle #red castle #white queen #red queen #mount noddley #starsnow #destiny #magic

[cryptidplays]

Important Info

Figured I'd make a pinned post with all of my info! Some will be "in character" (I'm a VTuber, so it comes with the territory.)

(This is partially for mobile users, since I know it's hard to view in-blog links. )

🔞No minors please!🔞

Info:

Name: Moth Cryptid (I just go by Cryptid though!)

Age: 300+ (In human terms: 30s)

Gender: Nonbinary Trans-man

Pronouns: He/him or they/them

Social Links:

YouTube

The YouTube Discord Server

Twitch

Twitter (S/FW but I follow accounts that aren't.)

Schedule (Links to my stream schedule tag)

My Neocities Website

FAQ and Lore under the cut

FAQs

Are you Mothman?: Nope! He’s my cousin.

Are you a furry?: Kinda? Monster-sonas sort of intersect with furries, but I’m not really part of the furry fandom in any big way. (But I do enjoy some furry media so I won't say that I'm not, either.)

What are you?: A purple moth cryptid VTuber with a design based on a death’s head moth.

What are your pronouns/gender: He/him or they/them. I’m a nonbinary trans-man… though I do just tend to call myself “queer.”

Will you play/stream (insert title here)?: Perhaps! If it costs money, it might take me longer to get to but there's always a chance. (did I change this question? Yes. I get this one way more now)

What is your schedule? I don't even know anymore. I'm focusing mostly on videos now, but I often stream on Saturdays and now it's either on Twitch or YouTube -Streams normally start at 11:30 a.m. PST. -Follow my Twitter to see any changes in schedule.

YouTube videos go up Monday/Wednesday/Saturday. (Temporarily 2x a week at the moment. Monday/Friday or Saturday)

Shorts/extra videos go up randomly.

Lore

Name: Cryptid (Moth Cryptid) Age: 300+ Gender: Nonbinary trans-man Pronouns: He/him or They/them Height: 7'0” Species: Man-moth (cousin-species of Mothman/Mothmen) Abilities: Shape-shifting to more/less humanoid forms; flying; inter-dimensional travel

History:

Cryptid was born in Point Pleasant, West Virgina (rather, in an inter-dimensional pocket in the vicinity of Point Pleasant) in the early 1700s. Like others of his species, Cryptid learned how to harness the power of shape-shifting to a more humanoid form over the course of his adolescence and eventually learned how to traverse over into the human dimension.

Cryptid mostly began to take short trips into the human dimension over the course of the 1900s, though he never stayed long. At least until the mid-1980s when Cryptid first discovered the flashy allure of arcades (and the dark allure of goth music and fashion.) Though he didn’t actually learn how to play the arcade games until the early 1990s. The bright lights and sounds had him too mesmerized to do much more than stare at the machines until he adapted to them.

From then on, Cryptid became hooked and decided to stay in the human dimension for good. Eventually he moved over to the west-coast of the United States to an area with a more temperate climate. However, he still lives in a cozy forest cave (that somehow has electricity and an internet connection, don’t question it) and he is good friends with many of the local cryptids.

He dons his human form in order to fit in when around the human masses, but still prefers his more “monstrous” form in the comfort of his own home. Due to his fascination with video games and his love of sharing them with others, he eventually decided to become what the humans call “a streamer”. Though he still tends to be socially awkward and bad at games, he has a fun time hanging out with humans and showing them his favorite games or sharing the experience of playing ones he’s never tried. Someday he even wishes to bring the things he loves back to his home dimension for his moth-family to enjoy.

[manxden]

Almost Caught (Part 1)

Someone made a fun ask when I posted looking for writing prompts. I’ll post the parts when it comes time to answer the ask, but for now, here’s part one. ^^

Note: In this story snippet Link and Zelda are between 11-13 years old and meeting for the first time(s). This is my take on a (mostly) mute Link, how he came to loose his voice, and a slightly more lively Zelda taking interest in the boy who pulled the sword. 

Before being appointed as her knight, Link had the roam of the castle. At least, most of the castle, both as a knight in training, a student in the tutor’s rooms adjacent to the great Library and in everything but an official capacity, a permanent guest of the royal family. 

At first the adjustment had been a steep learning curve, set into motion by stumbling, bleeding and drained of color and voice from the Lost Woods and back to his father’s side at the training camp. He had been told not to stray too far away from the camp and the road during their stay for his father’s survey, but beyond nightmarish glimpses of dark forest, fog, and a sudden rush of teeth, Link had never regained those memories. 

The king’s advisors had naturally informed him that very selfsame day of the events likely to happen, if the boy who pulled the Master Sword from its centuries-long sumber survived. Link was fated to be the chosen hero, Hylia’s champion against the coming calamity, so King Rhoam made arrangements with the boy’s family to rehome them to castletown, and house Link himself in the castle for his recovery and training. 

One of the awkward benefits (or drawbacks, depending upon the mood of the day) of living in the bustling community of high-ranking nobility, officials, and servants in the castle was that Link became an object of study for the youngest in the royal family. Princess Zelda was on her father’s heels on the first day that Link was stable enough on his feet to accompany his father to King Rhoam’s study, and they had stared at each other with round, curious eyes over the large oak conference table where the Master Sword had been laid, as if on display. 

The Princess had shown up in the hospital wing of the barracks the next day, her long ears perked and bright green eyes full of curiosity and bluster. She made up for her young stature with a tall vocabulary and a long stare, especially for Link’s attending nurse. She had walked in on the morning re-dressing of the thick bandages and ointments that were being used for the majority of his treatment. Despite several sharp words from the matron, Zelda stationed herself against the wall opposite Link’s bed and stared, taking in every bit of a number of details that made up the beginning of his new life.

Link’s hair had been cut short to keep it up and away from the ragged gash that had all but severed his vocal cords and some just shy of his jugular vein. The full-sized master sword was slung by its carrying-belt over the headboard of the simple frame of his bed, the gesture failing to keep the tip of its sheath from resting on the floor. The enameled, royal purple with inlays of gold and gems were the brightest, most colorful objects in the otherwise utilitarian room, save a mirror, dresser, sink, bucket, and Link’s bright, intensely sky-blue eyes. 

When the nurse began to wrap cotton loosely around the freshly-applied dressings, the young princess started to pelt her with questions. Why hasn’t he healed yet? Will he be able to talk? What’s in that ointment? When will he come to classes? Have you seen the sword? I’ve seen the sword. It’s incredible, but it doesn’t glow like it says in the stories. 

Link was quietly amazed that the princess had managed to belt out quite so many coherent sentences without going in the least bit blue in the face. It was a small relief to have something other than the dour-faced nurse filling the room with her astringent quiet. The matron was a woman over her forties and she cast several exasperated looks to a guard standing just outside of Link’s door, where he could see flashes of royal blue and crimson. Zelda received small answers from the nurse, which he had heard himself several times already; It’s an antiseptic ointment to prevent infection. It has to heal on its own, red potion can’t mend everything immediately. No, I haven’t seen the sword. 

At the long end the nurse had a limit to her patience, and sent a long glance to the guard just outside the door before addressing his charge. “I’ll send a page to bring you news when he is well enough for visitors, Princess. The boy should rest again soon, but please tell his Highness that he is doing well, will you?” 

A shadow of distaste crossed Zelda’s golden-framed face with being subtly told to buzz off, and she drew a deep breath, ready to protest. Her guard’s gloved fingers came to rest at the back of her shoulder, and she was genteely escorted out. 

Link wanted to ask his own questions, giving the nurse several intensely meaningful looks - but to no advantage. He’d been distinctly silent for the days since he’d woken up from a drugged slumber in the hospital wing, and even thinking about moving his head left or right, or moving his gullet, was painful. Meals had been an ordeal until the fifth day, when a stronger pain-relieving cream had been applied and his menu could include stronger foods than clear soups. 

The next day Zelda showed up in the frame of Link’s door, grasping the edge and peering in with care. She was a bright-eyed young woman without a speck of dirt on her heart-shaped face, and when she slid into the room and pulled the door closed to just a crack, he could see she was dressed slightly more informally in riding pants, a linen blouse with belled sleeves, and a delicately-embroidered cropped jacket over her shoulders and chest. Her hair had been braided into an intricate style that swept her bangs and long tresses up and away from her face, in a style that Link’s mother and younger sister could only daydream of lingering a long morning over; the Princess clearly had a small army of personal assistants and maids to help her dress and get readied for the day. 

Despite her significantly unique appearance, Zelda held her finger over her lips to signal the boy in the bed to stay silent - she was trying to sneak into his room, a pair of books and a slate under her arm. Even though the nurse-on-duty yesterday had heavily suggested to Zelda that she should stay away until she was signalled for, the Princess had chosen to visit him again at a later hour, and come prepared this time. 

Link couldn’t see if there was a royal guard again at the door out in the hallway, but he suspected that was the case, even as Zelda hopped up onto the foot of his bed on her knees and made herself comfortable. His eyes widened and he sat up straighter against the pile of pillows he had been armed with. His eyes were dilated because of the pain relievers and they tried to narrow down into a better focus on her, but the best he got was a soft-focus picture of the golden-haired goddess-descendant. She was crossing her legs over the covers just at the limit of his toes and giving him a lengthy stare. 

He wasn’t sure what the contest of eyes was about, but he felt like he was being consciously evaluated, like some sort of specimen and he tried several different expressions on her as the minute stretched on. When his brows had furrowed into a pitiful failure of a disapproving frown, Zelda reached out and touched her finger to the point of his nose. Link jerked a degree on his bed in surprise and jolted backwards, surprised by the bold contact; the motion tugged at the muscles of his throat, and Zelda’s bemusement quickly became dismay when a shock of pain crossed his face. 

“Oh! I’m sorry-” 

Link kept back from her by an inch or two, out of the reach of the hand that she had pulled back to her lap. He knew he could make a ruckus by knocking the sheath of his sword against the bedframe or the wall if necessary, but he was just as curious about the persistence of the princess as she was eager to learn more about him. He wanted to shake his head, or nod, or something along those lines, but chose instead to try and play with the hair at the back of his head. Even that option had been cut short, so he gave her an overexaggerated ‘ok’ through his silent lips, and folded his legs under the covers. He was dressed in a long linen nightshift, his trousers underneath scruffy and threadbare, but alright for the time being. 

The princess perked up when he gestured with his lips, her dipped ears perking again, and she thumbed through the objects in her lap, pulling out a flat, slate-grey rectangle with a piece of metal attached to it by a string. “Do you know what this is..?” She held it up for him to view, and he could just make out old lines that had been polished out of readability on it. After a moment, she added, “Hold up your thumb for yes, and point it down for no.” 

Link’s expression slid into a near-laugh with that suggestion, and he held up two thumbs in front of his chest, coming a little more to life. He had communicated plenty with the nursing staff and the doctor who had explained the details of the damage to his throat with different hand signals, but the princesses’ nonchalant approach was a breath of fresh air. 

Across from him Zelda offered him the slate, holding it up at length until he took the object and turned it, surprisingly, right side up. “That is a writing tablet,” She explained, “You can write on it with the metal nail.” 

At first Link simply held the piece of interestingly heavy rock, evaluating it with his hands and eyeing the faded marks on the surface. 

“You do know how to write, don’t you?” 

For a moment Link forgot who was speaking to him, and he passed a mildly sarcastic look over the top of the writing instrument. He grasped the nail-pen with his left hand, turning the rope-attached end towards his chest- “No, wait-” and proceeded to scratch a message to her with an intense focus, despite her momentary protest. 

Zelda chose not to interrupt after catching her tongue, and her manners. Impa’s mother had reprimanded the princess once for giggling about the difficulties a fellow student had while playing table tennis with their left hand, and had learned a valuable lesson about ‘the unique gifts of the goddess, scattered among us to keep us humble’. When Link turned the writing tablet around to show her his message, the letters were neat and slightly blocky, with an unusual lean to one side. 

‘Hello Princess,’ he had written, ‘You have pretty eyes.’ He was grinning cheekily over the top of the slate while he waited for her to read all the way through, and wanted to chuckle when her eyebrows lifted. Her green pupils were the one thing that her maids could not primp or preen, and they darted up to meet his expression with surprised amusement. 

“Well, thank goodness that part of you still works.” Zelda crossed her arms, now a neatly-folded statue on his bed with the books in her lap. Her quip got him to frown again, though he had perhaps earned the comment, and he grabbed the corner of his sheets to dip into a glass of water at his bedside to wipe the writing slate clean. “I want to know all about the Lost Woods, and where you found the sword, and was there a Great Deku tree like the stories say?”

At first Link sat a little dumbfounded, thinking over her questions and trying to decide if he actually wanted to open that can of worms just after his recent trauma. Princess Zelda was there in the flesh sitting on his bed and asking him questions of all things, but he felt a cold shiver run over his shoulders. 

The quiet must have lasted a little long, and the casually-clad princess lowered her hands into her lap, fiddling with the worn cover of one of the books. If she was going to learn anything from the new boy she would have to be patient, and she couldn’t tell if her incessant penchant for curiosity was making him uncomfortable. 

At length, Link finally decided to grasp the writing-nail again and started scratching a fresh message for her. 

‘My memory is very blurry. The doctor said I had a koncussyon.’ Zelda’s eyebrows furrowed while she read the last word, sounding it out to herself with pink lips working through the syllables, until she realized what he was trying to spell. “Oh! Concussion!” 

Link nodded, wiped down the slate, and continued to write, the retelling becoming easier as he settled into the task. 

‘I went hunting mushrooms on the trail, and I remember there being bigger and bigger trees, and a cold fog. I don’t remember more about the forest. Something.. Something big and with teeth, I remember a little, but after that, nothing. I feel like I slept a long time, and then I was here.’ 

Link had to wipe down and continue writing several times to finish the whole message to the Princess, and in the end her lips were pulled into a thin line of disappointment. It wasn’t directly Link’s fault that he had lost the continuity of his memories of those days, but he was quietly disturbed for the first time that he couldn’t remember more details. Her eyes were on the slate as if daring it to conjure up more words, her face as plain to read as any hateno boy or zora girl. Link subconsciously hugged the writing tools to his chest -  her stare broke off in the end, and she found the handle of his sheathed sword with her green eyes instead.

“That.. That there though.. that’s real.” The triforce at the middle of the angled sheath held her gaze, and Zelda’s voice had dropped several degrees in volume. 

Link knew that she wanted him to tell her that all the stories of the Goddess and the Hero were true, and that he had seen the great Deku tree and learned the secrets of the Lost Woods, but he was plainly lost for words and the details that could answer her questions. The writing slate was solid under his fingers though, and he decided to angle it on his blanket-covered thighs again, to scratch out a new message. 

‘Thank you for the slate. You are smarter than all the nurses put together.’

Zelda laughed when she read his letters, and then covered her mouth in alarm when footsteps sounded through the crack in the door from the hallway. Link’s eyes darted about, and he quickly wiped out the message to write again, this time in something more resembling cuccoo scratch. 

‘What are those books in your hands?’

This time the princess waited at length before she answered, one ear perked to the now-fading footsteps. She didn’t want her meeting to end before she was quite ready for it to end, and she was now quite satisfied that without her, much of the servants and staff of the castle would muck up Link’s first few days here something awful. To begin with they hadn’t even thought of giving him something to pass his time with. 

“Some books from the library,” she chose to whisper now that the footsteps had receeded, though very likely she felt like she was sharing some precious secrets. “But don’t tell on me or they’ll deny me access for a whole month!” 

Link bit his lip, the corners of his mouth threatening to curl up deviously. The princess had gone out of her way, at risk of punishment, to bring him, a nobody, some books and a writing instrument. Maybe the whole ordeal with the pain in his neck was worth it. He caught himself just in time to shake his hands in a clear gesture of ‘no’ instead of trying to do the same with his head, and he scribbled quickly, ‘I won’t!’ on the slate.

“This book has a lot of stories about the sword,” Zelda started to explain, handing him the rough-edged, dog-eared book from her lap. It was clearly the bigger and the older of the two she had snuck with her into the medical wing, and it smelled oddly of old leather. “So soon you’ll know everything I know about it, and a little more.” 

The corners of Link’s lips quirked up, and he turned the book over to inspect it. The font was artistically turned at the edges, and a glance inside revealed colorful illustrations in the margins of the heavy vellum. When he met Zelda’s eyes again he was beaming nearly from ear to ear, knowing he was holding something perhaps more precious than his entire family’s old homestead in Hateno.

“And this is a book about hand-signs.” Zelda was quicker to offer up the crisper, newer book, printed on a much rougher and plainer paper that had been drawn on with a thick ink for the letters and illustrations in black and white. Even the covers were a simple white, scattered about with dots and dashes where the edges of plain block-type had made contact with the pages - but the content brought his eyes widening even further. The first few pages were a simple explanation of different hand-signals which would spell out the hylian alphabet, with the corresponding shekiah symbols noted underneath them in smaller text. 

It was very clear for the next few minutes why Link was silent, but even Zelda was leaning forwards to eyeball the contents of the pages, quietly trying to make amateurish imitations of the signs she could read upside-down while he browsed. There was a section with illustrations and explanations of motions for food, animals, plants, household objects and more. Link stared and stared, just barely able to absorb what the little handbook would mean- and his eyes started to tear up. 

Zelda intervened before he got lost in the moment and made waterstains on the pages. She shoved at his shoulder with her hand, just enough to startle him and get Link to look up, and he quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He was feeling very much not quite himself with scruffy-short hair, borrowed nightclothes, and stuck in the medical wing of some stranger’s buildings. The princess had the good manners not to mention his upwelling of emotion, and instead plucked at her puffy sleeves. 

“I have a copy of the same book from my friend,” Zelda filled up the quiet while Link cleared up his face, letting the books and the writing tablet rest together in his lap. “And she said she can give us lessons when you are doing better.” Zelda had pestered the resident shekiah advisors with no end until she had devised a plan for how to get her questions answered - and secretly she was overjoyed that someone (besides her royal highness herself,) was bringing the stories of her childhood to life. 

She shouldn’t be smiling while the boy in front of her, wrapped in odd bandages and voiceless because of some nameless terror, was weeping. She really, really shouldn’t, but pity and excitement and commiseration was wrapping up into a weird warm bundle in her chest, and she wanted to hug him. For once she was in a situation where she could make a difference for somebody, and he was on her home turf. She thought better of the urge to make such an impromptu gesture as a hug, given that just moving his neck had been painful, but she caught his eye to continue offering her smile. He was close to really crying, shoulders jerking a bit, but he mimicked her expression with a watery grin and she backed off of his bed to stand up and stretch. 

“Remember,” She spoke to him in a stage whisper, cupping her hands around her mouth to add warm humor, “Don’t tell!” 

Link grinned right to the edge of a painful grimace, his expressions all mixed up - he held up his hands, pointing his thumbs upwards and he could care less about the warm tears that fell down to stain the bandages against his neck. 

With that Zelda snuck out of Link’s room and scarpered down the hallway, quietly beaming with her successful mission and sans a few items from her arms. Link stowed the gifts carefully at first under his pillow, taking out the book of stories often to gaze in wonder at the gilded illustrations and pore over the stories at length. The only object the nurses and doctors ever caught him holding was the plain-paper booklet of sign language, which he studied hungrily during the daylight hours when they were likely to come around, but there was never an attempt to confiscate the contraband. 

The only comment was from his matronly nurse after she took a moment to read the title. 

“Hmf. Maybe the youth these days have a little common sense to them.” He was handed back the book with a “Carry on, then.”, and given no more trouble for the rest of the month, until it was time for him to relocate to the new recruits’ wing of the barracks. 

#breath of the wild #botw #zelink #fanfiction #legend of zelda #Link and Zelda are young beans in this story section #Happy and Sad beans #Zelda can’t let him be #Curiosity is a vice #Link cries #Link always cries in my fics #Zelda is a GOAT #Respect your nurses #Impa is a treasure #Learn sign language #I L U

[emmetrain]

@pulchramundii​ ;; "I don't believe we have had the pleasure." The duke hummed as he extended his hand, palm out, towards Emmet.

The one-car train stopped at weird stations ever since it had been broken down, with the better half of it taken away. One of those many stations had been the Kalos Region, though no clues had indicated the place; after a certain point where no new information was coming, the measures and actions became desperate. Like a man drowning in the middle of the ocean with no help in sight, Emmet had found himself taking every opportunity to hang onto his last hope.

Thus, when he as the lone conductor of the Battle Subway of Unova, was called to give a speech on his recent paper on the field to his fellow conductors at Couriway Town Train Station, a paper he had written long ago but published recently to stay relevant, relevant enough for people to hear his screams, Emmet had dropped everything to oblige.

Yet, nothing was furthering his search at Kalos, with his limited knowledge, time, and resources. He could not even look less than an oblivious tourist to get information from the locals. It was a train wreck, and Emmet could do nothing but watch as time slowed around for him.

The voice, a warm voice that felt like a fireplace in the cold darkness Emmet found himself in, did not scare or snap but warmed and welcomed him back to the world, away from his thoughts. And as he came to his senses, everything only furthered the fireplace imagery Emmet got. The breeze carried the cologne that brought a breath of the forest. And the frame was nothing short of magnificent. 

Emmet wondered if he ever saw anyone as tall as the man before him. He was barely reaching to the other’s elbow. A will to intimidate from the other would not require further effort. Yet, there was still warmness. Not that the other man was burdening himself to appear smaller, no, but there was respect to be found in how he held himself.

Raising his gaze to meet the other’s, Emmet offered a kind smile that had a hint of surprise, with the never-ending sadness and longing lacing it. 

“I am Emmet. I don’t believe we did, because it seems you would be hard to forget, sir,” he voiced with crystal clear loudness he could not tone down unless he actively battled against it. A soft, loving smile was offered to the other, as Emmet wished he had studied his lesson before coming to Kalos. This man could not be anyone ordinary.

Emmet reached to take the hand, shaking gently but holding onto a moment too long, mesmerized. An apologetic exhale relaxed his shoulder as Emmet kept his eyes on the brilliant blue eyes, basking in what seemed to absorb the sky and life itself to reach new heights of brightness. 

“I am Emmet. I am a Subway Boss from Nimbasa City’s famous Battle Subway, from Unova.” Emmet looked down momentarily to stare into his shame, to take note of his mistake. Looking back up with a smile, he continued, “Please pardon me for my ignorance. I have come to your region and yet, I do not know your name. As a Subway Boss, I am not known for such oversights, yet, I have come to known failure ever since my brother, Subway Boss Ingo, had gone missing. Not an excuse, but an explanation for an action I hope to rectify.”

Emmet straightened his posture as he looked up at the man who must have been royalty, or the founder of the region itself with the charm he carried.

“How may I address you?”

#pulchramundii #ic #verse;; searching for the truth #ask;; suggestions and complaints #//emmet vc: if i was to one to have crushes this man might have been one #//HI HI HI I almost got lost reading your headcanon posts THEY ARE SO GOOD I am going to read all 26 pages of it once i have time #// also emmet says lys reminds him of fireplace but I think Lysandre is the forest fire himself

[firondoiel]

I posted 1,652 times in 2022

29 posts created (2%)

1,623 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@riley1cannon

@wrennette

@rocktheholygrail

@badrituals

@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

I tagged 1,636 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#fanart - 291 posts

#obi wan kenobi - 180 posts

#quiobi - 160 posts

#hannibal - 138 posts

#kenobi series - 133 posts

#hannigram - 104 posts

#ewan mcgregor - 99 posts

#humor - 99 posts

#*jo march voice* women - 71 posts

#kenobi spoilers - 70 posts

Longest Tag: 121 characters

#when you stared too long into the darkness of the forest and it became bright and shining in your eyes and in your throat

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, Padmé Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Shmi Skywalker, Sheev Palpatine Additional Tags: Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Blood and Injury, Inspired by Persuasion, Art, QuiObi Big Bang 2022, QOBB 2022 Summary:

It has been eight years of long, lonely missions for Obi-Wan. Eight years since Anakin left the Order to be with Padmé. Eight years since Obi-Wan last saw Qui-Gon Jinn and ended their relationship.

When their paths unexpectedly cross again, will it lead to a deeper estrangement, or to a second chance?

————————

A Star Wars retelling of Jane Austen’s Persuasion

29 notes - Posted November 13, 2022

#4

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Regency, Regency Romance, Romance Summary:

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a wealthy widower must be in want of an eligible young man. Mr. Kenobi is a newcomer to the village, and Colonel Jinn has certainly taken no note of him.

35 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

#3

Summary: It has been eight years of long, lonely missions for Obi-Wan. Eight years since Anakin left the Order to be with Padmé. Eight years since Obi-Wan last saw Qui-Gon Jinn and ended their relationship.

When their paths unexpectedly cross again, will it lead to a deeper estrangement, or to a second chance?

The first chapter of my Star Wars/Persuasion AU written for the QuiObi Big Bang has been posted! The wonderfully perfect cover art was done by my team partner and friend @weillschmidtdoodles. Thank you! 

Thank you also to my dear @luvvewan​, who watched the 1995 film adaption of Persuasion just for me and provided her expert beta services for the fic!

@qobb2022​

42 notes - Posted September 25, 2022

#2

QuiObi Regency AU

Mr. Kenobi falls ill and has to stay in Colonel Jinn’s big, lonely house. They have longing finger touches over sexually charged tea and sweet, gentle forehead kisses.

-------

I am not the fastest or most prolific writer, so I have no idea if I’ll ever get around to writing another fic in this AU, but here’s a moodboard dug out of my drafts folder!

@eletainart @liyahayerst - thank you so much for the kind words! <3

48 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I just think this photo of Liam Neeson needs more attention....

144 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[painful-pooch]

1 and 4 for both Cas and Mykhailo?

1. What is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you?

Mykhailo, ever so dressed in his usual broody and black attire, turns his attention to the upbeat man beside him wearing flannel and somehow pulling off the adorable lumberjack look. He raises an eyebrow at him, beckoning him to answer first. The man blinks and shakes his head, his face falling at the question. "No, ye first."

Myk cringes at the accent and sighs, running a hand through his hair. He leans back in his chair and tips his head so he is staring at the ceiling. "This is why I don't talk to my sister much. She wants to know every single damn thing going on in my head. Well she fucking won't. The worst thing to happen to me? Where the fuck do I even start?" He asks with an incredulous laugh.

"I guess I can start with how my family would practically abuse me and break me little by little. Or we can go and start off when I saw my mother killed? Maybe the day I scarred my best friend for the rest of his life. Oh man, the list can go on for fucking ever. It could be the day that I found out my sister was missing. But if I have to be honest... The worst thing was being a Kysil and relenting to their wicked ways..." He trails off, his eyes locking back with yours, piercing blue eyes that turns dark. "I became a monster and there is no going back."

He claps his hands and points over at... Cassiel. He never reads the name tags on people.

Cassiel's eyes are glued on Mykhailo and he reaches over to pat him on the shoulder. "I am sorry, lad... ye went thro-"

"Yeah, yeah, don't call me lad, alright? Just.... tell us your sob story so we can leave. WAIT THERE IS ANOTHER QUESTION AFTER? MOTHER F-" *long tones play in the background for about 23 seconds flat, Cassiel covering his ears until the torrent of spicy words end.*

"Uhm... Well where do I begin too...? I suppose I can talk about me mum? I tried to be a good son for her, ye know? I didn't finish me education and I played with me guitar or violin on the streets to make money. Ye see, she was always sick," he whispers, his bright eyes dulling at the memories. "I always tried to make her happy... then I uhm... I got taken away because I was different. They turned me into a-" he chokes back on the words and bows his head, his hands balled up at his knees. "I didn't want to kill me love, Acacius... They made me do it. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I swear..."

The man starts to cry and Mykhailo is left bewildered at him, blinking and he reaches out before pulling his hand back. "You can finish it, Cassiel. Come on."

After sniffling and wiping his eyes dry a couple of times, Cassiel says in a hoarse voice, "Being locked away in a room without being able to use yer senses... that almost killed me, aye. I couldn't see, feel, hear, smell, or taste anything for what I thought was an eternity."

Silence permeates in the room and Mykhailo whistles. "Damn, you fucking picked two ruined bastards."

4. What is your dream home like?

Mykhailo chuckles at the question and he checks his phone for any messages. "Finally a question I can fucking enjoy. My dream home? It's something I have wanted for years, and no one really believes me, but it's so true... I wanted a home that was away from the people, the loud noises, the city, and anything to remind me of who I am and where I came from. I want my backyard to be filled with flowers, especially sunflowers. Not just any, but I wanted them from Odessa where my mother is buried. I want to be able to see the beach and watch the waves come and go while I live the rest of my life in peace. I want a simple modern home with enough space for me and anyone I choose to have reside with me. I don't care for a mansion. Money isn't that important to me as I usually make it out to be. I can't tell anyone though, or they would know I want out of the game... And no one leaves this game alive."

Cassiel closes his eyes and he takes a deep breath. "I want a home in the forest... surrounded by trees and flowers, and near a pond. I want to be able to take me violin out there and play me songs so happily with me love of me life, hopin' they enjoy me music and tunes. I want a big kitchen so I can always make people food and have people live. I want to help others and I want to show people that I am not a bad person because of what I am. Also I really want to play with all the bunnies and animals there in the forest. OH! I want a nice music room for me guitar, violin, and anything I can get me hands on to play so many songs... That's me dream, aye!"

#answered asks #whump oc #cassiel belanger #mykhailo kysil #whump