#writing // How to Train Your Lamia

[wonder-in-wings]

TIMING: Early February LOCATION: Mossthorn Bog SUMMARY: More like “How to Train your Lamia” AMIRITE Parker (@wonder-in-wings, while on his way home after hunting dinner, encounters a big alligator mutant (@loftylockjaw who wants his food. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

This bog, though cold, was the closest thing Wyatt had to home. Not Boston—not that Boston had ever been home—but the one he’d left behind as a frightened teenager. He wished he could go back, wished he had the courage to face his mother and own up to what he’d done, to what he continued to do… he just felt certain she’d be disappointed, upset, and angry, and he’d never made her feel that way before. At least not that she made known to him. He’d always been her perfect son, eager to help with the restaurant, maintaining his grades in school, excelling in sports and having plenty of friends. But she didn’t know about the night fights, about the money that passed hands when he let himself loose and terrorized lesser creatures and shifters alike. It was one thing to defend himself against the hungry, territorial jaws of his infant siblings and other gators in the swamp, but this was not self defense. This was not even natural, unlike his defeat of the rest of his clutch. This was blood sport. She’d hate that, he knew. It had never been about killing for the sake of killing. So he couldn’t return, and had to make due where possible: that’s where the bog came in.

The lamia was out for a spa day, as it were, ready to relish the muck of the bog and return to his baser instincts—ones that’d been baked in during his first near half-decade of life spent as a monstrous reptile of the swamp. He’d found some decently deep water, which was again, too fucking cold, but no worse than the lake. Actually, it was a bit warmer than the lake, for which he was thankful. The bottom of the bog was squishy and sloppy, the water dark and murky and pungent. The lamia looked like little more than a log among all the moss and reeds and scum, until he opened his yellow eyes at the sound of footsteps. They weren’t terribly close, but not that far off either. He remained still, not really wanting to disturb the peaceful day if he could help it, and not feeling particularly hungry, either. Whoever or whatever it was had gotten lucky today.

——

There was a semblance of where he came from at the Mossthorn Bog, even if the last time he’d been there was when he was interrupted in the middle of his project. Parker held more confidence in that type of environment than any in town, if he was being honest - the soft peat beneath his steel-toed boots squelching as he tread lightly, with a hunter’s gait in an attempt to be as careful as possible. ‘Catlike’, as someone had called it before. He never quite understood the sentiment as he’d previously known cats for being graceless and clumsy as they believed themselves to be agile and clever when jumping up onto countertops that didn’t suit them, but as he finally took the time to learn more, he was starting to come around to the comparison. He tread through the silent, chilly, misty bog that afternoon, feeling slicked with an uncomfortable humidity that coated his skin, but satisfied as he hauled three supernaturally-massive frogs with him with two in one hand and one in the other. It was places like this that reminded Parker of home, and the things he knew to look out for, including him stopping expertly at the edge of what appeared to be more regular earth coated with dull moss. The Warden glanced down at the ground before his eyes scanned up and down an invisible line; the untrained person would’ve missed it but he was standing on a bank, where just under the deceiving surface inches ahead of him was murky brown and gray water. He wondered if there would be any more hibernating frogs in the mud, but as he thought about it and he let his gaze wander absently– When he saw the pair of eyes. Parker recognized them immediately, having grown up with more alligators than humans in his life. As per usual, most of it was completely submerged, having been there long enough to appear to have been reclaimed by nature itself. ‘This is the part where someone else would turn and leave.’ Walker suggested boredly, sarcastically as Parker instead kept his icy blue eyes on the creature, his curiosity and affection for the reptiles keeping him from simply going in a different direction. No, Parker wasn’t someone else, he was Parker, a strange man who lived out in the bayou for his formative years and he opted to find a nearby log to sit on for a while so he could observe it from the shore, wondering how it got there, where it was from and if it knew how far away it was from home. Similar to him sometimes, perhaps.

——

The arrival of the human didn't alarm Wyatt in the slightest, but it did pique his curiosity. He watched as the man stared back at him, then moved to sit on a log and continue watching. How strange. Most folks would've gone running—if they even noticed him in the first place. The pause at the bank was enough of an indicator that this man knew his way around swamps and bogs, and Wyatt wondered very briefly if this was the same person he'd spoken to online, the other Louisiana transplant. Surely there couldn't be that many of them in this town. 

With this in mind, the lamia only waited a few more minutes before moving rather than allowing the staring match to persist for however long the stranger was willing to sit there. With a flick of his tail, he glided smoothly through the pond scum in the stranger's direction. He did angle himself slightly away from the man the closer he came, keeping an eye on him while trying to keep from spooking him. The gator came to a slow stop, lazing at the edge of the water for a few minutes to see if he would remain seated. 

When he did, and when Wyatt felt certain that there was no possible threat, the lamia lifted his massive head out of the water and slid it up onto the bank, parting his jaws and letting out a low rumble of acknowledgement. 

He wasn't going to speak. Not yet, anyway. That fun prank could come later. 

——

However much time elapsed between Parker sitting on that log lightly to when the alligator began to move wasn’t paid much mind by him, and while he did find himself tensing instinctually as the gator moved closer to the shore, he stayed where he was; he’d grown up fighting gators, and now he just had more tools to assist him. There seemed to be something curious about this particular gator as it drew closer to the shore, the Warden thought, in that it was almost moving in a way that wasn’t directed at him. Rather, it seemed as though the creature saw him, the two stared at each other, then it advanced but not out of interest of attacking him. Either that or perhaps the gator didn’t think he saw it, as impossible as that seemed. Parker kept his steely stare on the creature as it drew closer, and closer… and when it could practically come ashore, its head was pulled out of the water in its entirety and Parker realized that this was no ordinary gator. No, this thing was easily twice as big, coming closer to deinosuchus than a living, modern alligator. Admittedly surprised by the size of the head alone, but still not quite afraid (or at least afraid enough to react yet), the Warden grew still. That was, until the massive head was placed on the soft mud, not eight feet away from him - if it wanted to, the gator could’ve tried to take one of his legs and if he himself weren’t quick enough, Parker could’ve gone down the same unfortunate beginning path as Rhett - and opened its mouth.The sound it emitted wasn’t the warning hiss of aggression, but rather… almost like a greeting. Or at least, it certainly knew that Parker was there. Rather lazily, the hunter gathered the legs of one of the overgrown frogs and tossed it over to the creature.

— —

Yellow eyes tracked Parker’s minimal movement, slitted pupils dilating slightly as one of the frogs was picked up. Those parted jaws twitched in response and his head jerked very subtly to the side, but the hint of motion became a full snap at the air to catch the frog in his mouth as it was tossed his way. Free snacks? Fuck yeah, free snacks. Wyatt pushed himself further up onto the bank, getting his arms and legs back underneath him as the water grew shallow around his body. He was built for bipedal locomotion, but his slightly shorter back legs meant that he could easily transition to being on all fours, with a sloped spine and gait similar to that of a scaly, two-ton German Shepherd. 

The man had more frogs, and Wyatt wanted them. He pushed himself up out of the muck, moving slowly closer. Suddenly he was struck by a memory that he’d forgotten about—he’d done something similar to this with a few humans that’d turned up in his swamp back home, when he was about two years old. They were rightfully fascinated by the vaguely human-shaped alligator monster, and surely his small stature at the time had everything to do with them being curious instead of scared. But… he’d shown them, hadn’t he? Ah, yes. He’d bitten off a few fingers of one of them when they reached for his snout. Bearing this in mind as he came to a stop just a few feet from the man on the log, the lamia lowered himself back to the earth. No biting the human, he reminded himself, finding it all too easy to slip back into old habits when presented with a situation like this. It was a tough thing to shake, sometimes, since he’d spent so many years like this after hatching. Maybe if he’d been born as a human, maybe if he’d grown up as a human, he wouldn’t be so inclined to act like a big, stupid creature when he had the chance. But he hadn’t, and he was. He loved it. Thought it was a riot after the fact, but during… well, during interactions like this, he couldn’t help it. It was instinct. 

His jaws parted again and he waited patiently for his treat.

——

The first frog was deftly caught and swiftly consumed, the motion hoisting the large creature a little more out of the murky swamp water. Parker tilted his head slightly and for a moment, he recalled Anita’s large, powerful rattlesnake transformation in the crypt. He wasn’t sure what to call what she was, if there were other things like her but “shifter” would have had to suffice for the time being. He wondered if his unusual company was similar to her. Regardless of whether or not this creature had the intelligence of a human (or at least a mammal), the Warden wasn’t going to treat it as though it was stupid. However, Parker quirked a brow as the alligator monster moved closer to him, stopping just short of one of his steel-toed boots and opening its mouth as though expecting something else. He couldn’t keep a scoff from escaping him and he shook his head slowly, but reached for another one of the frogs anyway. ‘This is why you don’t feed the animals, boy.’ His father reprimanded him in a memory from a long time ago, as Parker emotionlessly pinned an alligator’s mouth shut against the ground after the animal advanced on him. ‘They keep coming back. Start to see you as a dispenser, then get mad when you don’t got anything else for ‘em.’

Wordlessly, he threw the second frog to the large reptilian, taking care not to overaim or accidentally hit the thing anywhere less convenient than its mouth. 

— —

There wasn’t much effort needed to catch this frog, and Wyatt happily gulped it down after it landed on his flat, white tongue. There was not a good reason for this man to not have taken off running yet unless the sight of something like Wyatt came as no surprise. He wasn’t sure if that meant the man knew he was a lamia, a shifter, or just a beast of the bog like so many of the other fucked up creatures around these parts, but… at any rate, it probably meant the man was dangerous. Or at least that he had the capacity to be dangerous, since it didn’t seem very high on his list of priorities at the moment. Still, Wyatt tried to see if there were any visible weapons on his person, and finding none, rose to his feet once more. This time, though, he rose to his full height, stretching clawed hands up over his head and letting out a guttural groan.

Feeling a bit limbered up, the lamia sat in a squat beside the man, angling his head down again as he set one clawed hand on the log. His long snout bumped against the man’s side, perhaps silently asking for that final frog.

—

The catch was expected. The giant reptile standing on its hind legs and stretching as though it were a person was much less expected and it was the closest that Parker had gotten to actually considering retreating for a moment. This was reflected in a subtle move, his legs shifting and repositioning in such a way that made it even easier for him to leap to his feet to get out of the way of a snapping maw with several tons of bite strength behind it. And yet, even as he felt that animal instinct tugging on the corner of his mind, he still couldn’t help but admire the thing; the muscles rippling under its slick, plated skin, the way its teeth neatly layered themselves over its lower jaw. The gleaming yellow eyes, even its humanoid, sloped body. The long, powerful tail. Parker was compared to reptiles on occasion, he remembered throughout his childhood. ‘Why? I don’t understand.’ He had asked, his dull tone still managing to make itself sound curious in its own way, the way his mother had long since grown to be able to tell. ‘You’re an ambush predator.’ His mother replied as she absently cut vegetables for their dinner. ‘You lie in wait for someone or something to bother you. That’s when you strike with decisive precision.’ Did Parker see himself in this creature that “sat” very close next to him now, claws inches away from his flesh and a massive nose nudging him? No. He wasn’t capable of that level of self-reflection, he didn’t think. Alligators were powerful, adaptable and cunning. And this one, a strange blend of human-adjacent movements and primal reptilian genetics, was nosing into his side expectantly, to which Parker calmly gathered his third and final quarry and offered it to the lizard. “Last one I have.” He finally spoke to the creature.

— —

Wyatt devoured the final frog just as quickly as he had the other two, and found himself disappointed that that would be the end of it. His more human, more civilized thoughts were falling into the background, muffled and quiet as his baser instincts took over. He was a hatchling again, toddler-aged and knowing no other life than the life of a swamp monster, only much bigger and much more dangerous, now. 

He could eat the man, and be satisfied for a time. This idea, one that he’d previously told himself to abandon, came back to the forefront. He could be eaten. Flesh torn, blood spilled, bones crunched… memories of eating humans flooded his mind and he let out a low rumble in response, his gaze settling on the seated figure with new intent. He hadn’t been very hungry before, but passing up a meal as easy as this would be a mistake, wouldn’t it? The lamia’s open jaws hung dangerously close to the man, and he was as perfectly still now as he’d been in the water, contemplating a strike. The taste of mammal blood on his tongue was a welcome one, and he wanted—

Wyatt blinked, closing his mouth again and moving to a less threatening proximity, lowering himself to the ground once more. Don’t eat the hand that feeds, he reminded himself, trying to draw on the humanity that’d momentarily been lost. This could be a sweet deal. Just keep playing along. An idea struck him, a rather genius idea, he thought, and he stared up at the man for a few beats before parting those massive, toothy jaws. 

“... last… one,” he grated, doing his absolute best to make it sound like he’d hardly ever spoken in his life. 

——

The monster snapped up the last of his quarry and while Parker was rather looking forward to those, he didn’t blame anyone or anything on the decision he’d made. It would’ve been just as easy for him to simply turn the other way and abandon the beast to the swamp, knowing that it wasn’t close to starving, to go home and prepare the abnormal frogs for himself. He didn’t, though, and now as he sat there, observing the creature getting closer to him, he himself stared up at the thing that now stared back down at him. There was a sense of familiarity about this scene, as Parker himself moved imperceptibly to retaliate if the monster decided to give into its primal nature but unlike last time, when an overwhelming futility had gripped the core of his humbled frame, this alligator mutant wasn’t nearly as large or daunting as the mighty serpent beached in that rocky cove months ago. He might’ve sustained damage. He likely would’ve sustained damage. But he could also move fast enough to exchange a bite with his own dagger to the creature’s golden, slitted eye that stared back down at him. He himself remained nearly motionless and even his breath seemed to cease… until the creature lowered itself, creating some space between the two. Parker, with his blue eyes still warily on the reptilian, allowed himself to breathe again though he felt himself instinctively tensing all over again as those same golden eyes were exchanged with him–

Then the monster spoke. Eyebrows raised in what could’ve been called surprise as the Warden wasn’t expecting this turn of events. Parker was sure that if this had been almost any other human except for Rhett perhaps, this wouldn’t have gone over the way that it was going. He was sure someone else would’ve emoted more. “You’re either more intelligent than I previously thought or I’m under more hallucinogens.” He admitted, his expression returning to its emotionless stare though he kept one of his brows quirked in evident interest. He pointed to himself, not going out of his way to be exaggerated with his motions. “Parker.” 

— —

“Parker,” the beast repeated, struggling with the ‘p’ sound but otherwise mimicking him perfectly. No name would be given on his part—this was the man from Louisiana, the one Wyatt had shared recipes with. There’d be no indication to him that the creature in front of him was a shifter, at least not one that had ever shifted in its life. Wyatt couldn’t even be sure that he’d know what that was, but judging by the abnormal frogs he’d been carrying, there was a chance. Besides being an easy source of food, this was free entertainment. It wasn’t malicious by nature, but there was some amount of bullying behavior in the lamia’s decision to play along like this woven into the deception. Not that Wyatt was psychoanalyzing it himself. He never did that, he likely wasn’t even capable.

Turning himself so he could slowly begin to back up into the water, Wyatt kept his head low. “More…” he growled, wriggling himself deeper into the mud as his top half remained visible. “Parker… more.”

— —

This was a strange situation, indeed. It repeated his name back to him, in a rather clean imitation. If Parker didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that this creature was capable of further speech, but he opted not to think too much about it. The reptilian monster moved once again, slowly turning to sink itself back into the murky depths of the bog once more. Then the Warden’s brow furrowed slightly at the next words the creature said, not taught to it by Parker himself. So it did know other words. “You’re a giant alligator mutant.” He replied first, rather dryly considering the scenario he found himself in. He was still tense, though, ready to move in an instant the millisecond the creature decided to discontinue the conversation in favor of attempting to eat him. “Surely you can hunt for yourself.” He had already given the creature the entirety of his quarry that day; he wasn’t a depository for alligator monsters out in the swamp. ‘I told you once you feed things, they get attached.’ 

— —

A rumble that could’ve been categorized as ‘grumpy’ (if you were the type to assign emotion to animals) sounded in response to Parker’s insistence that Wyatt could feed himself. Of course he could feed himself. He could feed himself right now if he wanted, could have a veritable feast in the form of one bayou transplant that’d keep him full for weeks. He wasn’t incapable, goddamnit, this was just a bit of fun. 

As if to push the point, the creature sank back into the muck and just stared at him, as silent as he’d been when the man had first arrived. He might get back up again and follow Parker if he left, he might not. Wyatt was a fickle creature, guided by instinct and impulse rather than careful, planned out action. Following him would probably be more fun, though. And it might get him to understand that the want was for him to return here another day, with more treats, maybe. 

Only one way to find out, and it required patience. So the beast lay in wait, staring at Parker, challenging him to rise from his seat and try to leave.

—

No response aside from what sounded like a grunt, almost a begrudging ‘hmph’ at what Parker had said. It was impossible for the Warden to know this was what it meant, if that was what it meant, but it clearly knew other words that Parker hadn’t taught it so the likelihood that it held some semblance of higher sentience or intelligence than other brutes was relatively high. The reptilian creature trudged back into the mud and disappeared below the surface until it was back to staring at the hunter with its slitted yellow eyes. And Parker contemplated. He had already made more deals over the past few months than the rest of his life combined up until that point and from what he could gather about this particular arrangement, he got absolutely nothing from it aside from an alligator mutant who probably only saw him as a food source, whether that was from the things Parker hunted or the Warden himself. This was the problem with mammals, he had learned years ago; he didn’t expect critical thought or deep emotions from reptiles. They existed, acted on their instincts and held little if any remorse over their actions. Reptiles were adaptationally intelligent (enough) but emotionally vapid, simple things that were easy to predict because there was no advanced circuitry below the scaled flesh. That was why Parker could identify with them. For now, though, he offered a pointed exhale of his own, not quite a scoff but it also wasn’t as much of an actual ‘hmph’ of his own as it could’ve been. “We’ll see.” Parker replied, placing his hands on his belt and starting to get to his feet though he never removed his icy blue eyes from the smoke-shrouded gaze of the reptilian. 

— —

They were locked in a staring contest as the man rose to his feet, Wyatt waiting patiently until he’d finally moved far enough away that the lamia’s second emergence from the bog wouldn’t seem like an imminent threat. The last thing he needed was this guy pulling a knife on him, or something. Not that it’d do much, the durability of his scales was tried and true, but still. This wasn’t meant to be a fight. 

Keeping on all fours, the beast lumbered slowly after Parker, his head turning this way and that as he glanced around them, a sort of non-threatening display of a lack of laser focus. Part of him wondered if the man lived nearby, because he’d like to know where he lived, if only to further his ability to play little pranks on him. Maybe someday he’d find a gator asleep on his porch, or slinking into his kitchen through a broken window. What fun that would be! For Wyatt. Probably not for Parker. He didn’t really care if it was fun for Parker, though. 

When Parker stopped, he stopped. When the human moved, he moved. He was like a massive, growling shadow, curious to see where his waiter for the afternoon was headed. 

——

His hearing might’ve been deficient but the other nuances in the hunter’s skills didn’t pass him by - he was being followed. Not that the reptilian seemed particularly built for stealth on land, but it still gave the Warden pause on occasion, and he stopped every few steps, noticing that the alligator monster would, too. What was its angle? The swamp provided a measure of humidity that was otherwise absent in the rest of the town, for sure, but the fog didn’t keep the unpleasant chill from stinging Parker’s skin and nose, so he found himself curious about why the reptilian would bother following him. Eventually, as he kept calm and fell into a more steady pace of walking, the unlikely duo neared the edge of the Mossthorn Bog, where Parker eventually turned, keeping one of his hands near the hilt of his broadest dagger just in case the monster decided that the fun was over and that the frogs he’d been given weren’t sufficient enough. “Are you going to follow me into town?” He asked, regarding the creature and locking eyes with it again. “I’m not sure where your level of intelligence rests but I don’t recommend it, if that’s your plan.”

— —

Into town? He lived in town? Damn. So much for that plan. Wyatt took the info rather poorly, letting out a long, soft bellow of complaint, ending it with a hiss for good measure. He sat back on his haunches, regarding the man thoughtfully for a few moments longer, then whipped his tail through the underbrush of the bog and rocked forward, letting his clawed hands sink into the hardening mud. He was planning to stay put, it seemed, and when the warden walked away from him a second time, he did not follow. 

He did, however, wait until Parker was a good distance before calling out in that same deep, gravelly voice, “More!”

#wickedswriting #writing // How to Train Your Lamia #writing with // Wyatt #Bayou Boys // Wyatt #//if I had the tools #//I totally would've made a meme banner

[isabellafoster13]

This was requested on Wattpad by Bellaboo097023.

It is flipping hot and the air conditioner broke, so I'm writing this in the dark while I'm practically sweating. Fuck summer. I'm over this. I'm also learning how to write and send a letter because my partner is at basic training. That's pretty fun. 

Everyone, I'm sure that you're also dealing with terrible heat, at least to some degree. Please, take care of yourselves. Drink plenty of water, stay as cool as you can, and keep an eye on any friends and families that may be negatively affected by the heat. Stay safe! I love all of you!

Also, a quick heads up, I am looking toward graduating high school in December (a whole semester early) by taking two college classes, and I am aiming for an internship with a college history teacher. If I don't get an internship, then I will be getting a job. This is so I'll have an extra A that'll boost my GPA. Because of this, updates on my works will probably slow down a bit, depending on the hours that I'll be spending doing either schoolwork, internship work, or just normal work. I do not have any plans of abandoning you, so do not worry about that. It's just that since I am getting ready to start the college phase of my life, I might be a bit slow on updates. It's too soon to say though, but I'll keep you updated on that, if you are interested. 

I hope you enjoy!

Jellal and Lucy?! (Jellal x Lucy ft. Team Natsu)

Lucy stepped off of the train and looked down at the job request she had taken. After checking the listed address of the job requester and began making her way there. After Erza went on another date with her partner whom she hadn't yet introduced to the guild, Natsu and Lisanna went on a job, and Gray went to Lamia Scale to visit Lyon, Lucy decided to take a solo job. She liked the idea of earning a full reward and not having to fix the destruction that her team would leave behind. 

She took a job that looked more difficult than the rest. Take down a small dark guild. She already had a plan. Have a few of her spirits fight the dark mages while she uses her star dresses to fight the master. It was a great plan in her mind. The reward was great too. three-hundred-thousand jewel. She smiled, excited to fight this dark guild and get her money. 

She had found the job requester and got the location of the dark guild's hideout by the end of the day. She trudged through the nearby woods, looking for a clearing with a large building in the middle of it when she heard rustling in the undergrowth behind her. Lucy swung around and pointed Loke's key outward, ready to summon him and fight alongside him. She was just about to call out the Zodiac celestial spirit when a man that she recognized emerged from the undergrowth. 

She sighed as she hooked Loke's key back onto her keyring and lightly scolded, "Jellal! You scared me! I thought that you were and dark mage and was just about to summon Loke to beat you up!"

Jellal chuckled as he approached her, responding, "sorry, Lucy. What are you doing here? Where is your team?"

Lucy answered, "they are doing their own things. I'm here on a solo job." 

Jellal nodded as he walked in the direction Lucy had been walking in and Lucy walked right next to him. The blue-haired man asked, "came to fight a dark guild here?"

Lucy nodded, guessing, "you're coming after the same guild?"

Jellal nodded, giving her a smile. Lucy blushed and looked away. For some time now she's had a crush on Jellal. She never thought much about it at first, but as it remained and grew, she's had difficulty ignoring it. She doubted that he felt the same way, so she quickly decided that she'd complete this job as soon as possible, collect her reward, and head back to Magnolia before she ended up making a fool of herself. 

Her attention was drawn back to the independent mage next to her when he gently elbowed her and suggested, "mind if I help you? You never know what could happen when fighting a dark guild and it might be good if I assist you." He then quickly added, "I'm not calling you weak or incapable of handling yourself! I just don't want you to get into serious danger. Dark guilds are unpredictable."

Lucy chuckled before she answered, "I wouldn't mind the help." She really didn't mind fighting a dark guild with Jellal. It would give her a chance to get a bit closer to him without running the risk of making a fool of herself because she'll be too focused on fighting this dark guild. She also liked the idea of spending some time with him since it had been several weeks since the last time she had seen him and his guildmates. 

She asked as they stepped over a fallen tree, "where are your guildmates? I would've expected to see them with you." 

Jellal shoved his hands into his coat pockets as he answered, "their fighting other dark guilds. I decided to fight this one on my own since it's small." Lucy nodded. So, his reason for coming after this dark guild was the same as hers. She was sure now that defeating this dark guild would be very easy with Jellal joining her. 

She was about to continue talking to him but was quickly stopped when Jellal stopped walking and grabbed her arm, bringing her to a stop. He pointed ahead of them, whispering, "the dark guild's headquarters is right there. Just through the trees." 

Lucy stared ahead. She leaned closer to Jellal to better see through the mess of trees, at the large building that looked like a warehouse. She noticed Jellal shifting away from her, causing the blonde to look at him and see him looking away with a slightly pink color on his cheeks. Assuming that he was uncomfortable with how close she had gotten to him, Lucy leaned away. She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. 

She questioned in a whisper, "what do you think we should do?" 

Jellal asked with a low, joking tone, "did you not have a plan when you came here?"

Lucy answered, "well, I was planning to fight the master while my spirits fought the other mages, however, that was before you showed up." 

Jellal chuckled. He then responded, "how about this? You fight the master and I fight the rest of the guild." 

Lucy inquired, "do you want me to summon any of my spirits to help you?"

The blue-haired man shook his head, reassuring her, "I'll be fine on my own." 

Lucy nodded. The pair crept forward and peered through the undergrowth that they hid behind at the building. Jellal whispered, "it'll be easier for me if either most or all of the dark mages come out of their hideout. I'll be able to ambush them and fight in a wide-open space. Do you have a spirit that can bring them out?"

Lucy nodded. She unhooked Virgo's key and turned around, pointing the blade of the key away from her and calling, "Open! Gate of the Maiden: Virgo!" 

With a flash of golden light and the chime of a large bell, Virgo stood in front of Lucy. She bowed and spoke, "you summoned me, Princess? Is it punishment time?"

Lucy shook her head with a sigh as she hear Jellal next to her stifle a laugh. She then instructed, "we need the dark mages inside that building to come outside. Can you bring them out?"

Virgo responded, "of course, Princess," before she used her Diver spell to disappear underground. Lucy and Jellal turned around and watched for the dark mages they were targeting to run outside. 

They heard the sound of Virgo emerging from the ground inside of the hideout, which was followed by the sound of magical attacks being launched. Within a few minutes, Virgo emerged from the hideout, followed by ten mages. Lucy asked, "how many mages are there in this guild? The job requester didn't specify that." 

Jellal answered, "ten in total, not including the master. That's all of them." 

They waited for Virgo to disappear back to the Celestial Spirit World before they jumped out of their hiding place. Jellal launched his surprise attack on the dark mages as Lucy raced into the hideout, placing her hand over her keys. The doors slammed shut, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. 

She turned back around to find a man sitting on what looked like a throne in the middle of the room. He stood up and sneered with an unsettling grin, "so, you're going to fight me all on your own, little missy? How laughable." He then followed his words up with a cackle. 

Lucy unhooked Loke's key. She pointed the blade away from her and called, "Open! Gate of the Lion: Loke!" 

Her faithful celestial spirit and close friend appeared, saying, "your knight has arrived, Princess."

Lucy then pointed the key's blade at herself and spoke with a strong voice, "Star Dress: Leo Form!" She became engulfed in a golden light and when it faded, she was clad in an elegant outfit that fit beside Loke's suit. 

The spirit next to her smoothly remarked as he wrapped an arm around her waist, "my, my, Princess. You look gorgeous in that outfit. I wonder what you'd look like in a wedding dress. Care to find out sometime in the near future?" 

Lucy gently pushed him away with a sigh, responding, "focus on fighting this guy, you troublesome lion." The pair then bolted forward, attacking the dark guild master. 

After Lucy and Loke had gone back and forth with the surprisingly weak man, the celestial wizard had delivered a Regulus Lucy Kick to the dark mage's back, sending him flying toward Loke who used a Regulus punch to finish him off. 

Lucy, not feeling at all tired despite the fight, thanked Loke and sent him back to the Celestial Spirit World before she exited the building. She found the dark mages scattered around the clearing, unconscious. She watched as Jellal strolled toward her, a smile on his face. He asked, "ready to get your reward?" Lucy nodded and the two mages walked back to the job requester. 

After the job requester had handed Lucy the reward money, she took out one-hundred-fifty thousand jewel and handed it to Jellal. The blue-haired man looked at the money before he turned his gaze to Lucy, an eyebrow raised, and he asked, "what are you doing?" 

Lucy responded, "giving you half of the reward. You help so I think that's only fair if we split the reward."

Jellal chuckled as he pushed the money away, saying, "I don't want any part of the reward." 

Lucy exclaimed, "but, you helped me by fighting the guild members so I could fight the master! I need to thank you in some way!"

Jellal looked away for a few moments, appearing to be thinking over her words, before he looked back at her and suggested, "if you really want to thank me, then how about you go on a date with me?"

Lucy stared at him dumbstruck. Was Jellal actually asking her on a date? Like, a date that couples go on? Did he feel the same way about her? She was snapped out of her thoughts when Jellal began chuckling at her reaction. He then said, "I would love to go on a date with you, Lucy. A romantic type of date." 

Lucy blushed deeply at what he had said. Jellal really was asking her on a date! She couldn't remember the last time she felt this happy! She nodded her head furiously, exclaiming, "yes! Yes, I would love to!"

Jellal chuckled as he held out his arm for her to take, saying, "then let's go get some food. How does that sound?" 

Lucy hooked her arm with his and answered, "sounds great!"

Two weeks.

That's how long Lucy had been away from Fairy Tail. She and Jellal would go out together every day and talk, getting to know each other better and falling in love. However, Jellal had not asked Lucy to be his girlfriend, much to the blonde woman's dismay. Was Jellal not as interested in her as she was in him after all? 

They were sitting on a park bench, talking and laughing, when Natsu, Gray, and Erza suddenly appeared in front of them. Lucy and Jellal stared up at them in surprise. The three mages had their arms crossed over their chests and they looked less than pleased. Lucy swallowed thickly, afraid that her teammates would disapprove. 

She stood up and asked sheepishly, "Hey, guys. What are you doing here?" 

Gray was the one that answered, "you've been gone for two weeks, Lucy. What have you been doing?"

Lucy rubbed her upper arm, unsure of what to say for fear of how her friends would react. Should she say that she was hanging out with Jellal? But, how would that be an excuse for not returning to the guild for two weeks? Should she say that she's been dating Jellal? Honestly, she wasn't even sure if she and he were dating. Did she have any right to call him her boyfriend when he hadn't asked her to be his girlfriend? 

As Lucy was struggling to come up with an answer for her protective teammates, she felt Jellal wrap an arm around her waist and answer for her, "I'm sorry for keeping Lucy away from Fairy Tail for so long. We've been having so much fun together that we both didn't notice how much time had passed."

Erza raised an eyebrow as she asked, "why are you spending so much time with her, Jellal?"

The blue-haired man answered with a smile, "she's my girlfriend. Why wouldn't I spend time with her?"

The three mages in front of the couple exclaimed with surprise, "what?!" while Lucy stared up at him in just as much surprise. 

Jellal looked down at her and said, "if it's okay for me to call you that."

Lucy pressed a kiss to his cheek and said, "of course it's okay." 

The pair were then enveloped by Erza in a hug. Once the red-haired woman pulled away, she said as she brushed away a single tear, "I'm so happy for both of you." She then turned around to look back at her other two friends and asked them, "what about you two?"

The shirtless Gray answered with a smile, "as long as he doesn't hurt her, I support it." 

Natsu, however, crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, answering, "I don't like it. I don't think he's good enough for you, Luce."

Lucy glared at her best friend as she scolded him, "well, I love him and I think he's good enough, so I'm going to be with him whether you like it or not." 

Natsu huffed and turned away. Gray rolled his eyes and said, "he'll get over it." 

Lucy smiled, knowing that once they got back to Fairy Tail, Natsu would be completely supportive of her relationship. She then leaned up to kiss Jellal, feeling him kiss back immediately. 

#fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #jellal fernandes #jellal x lucy #jelu #erza scarlett #natsu dragneel #gray fullbuster #loke #virgo

[scalpelandrose]

❄️ = Fluff | 🗡 = Action | 🥀 = Hurt/Comfort | 😈= NS/FW

Full Stories:

Happy Birthday, Sincerely From the Heart (Law’s Birthday) ❄️

Under the Sanguine Moonlight (Vampire AU!) ❄️🥀

Asylum Raid ❄️🥀🗡

The Thanksgiving Before a Christmas Miracle (Month Before Ross is Born) ❄️

The Poetry of Your Voice ❄️

When Darkness Embraced Her (Greek Gods AU) ❄️🥀😈

Written In the Heart: Love Confession (Grand Line High AU) ❄️

Trafalgar Siblings Discoveries: The Talking Switch ❄️

1 A.M. With My One (Modern AU) ❄️

White Day Scenario (You Are the Rose in My Heart) ❄️

Bound to a Desirous Dream (Grandline High AU) 😈❄️

Mirror-Bound in Heavenly Sleep (Grandline High AU) 😈❄️

Frozen in the Heat of the Moment (Grandline High AU) 😈❄️

Where Blackbirds Roam (Norei Commission-Inspired Writing; In-Depth Canon-verse) 🗡🥀❄️😈

Who’s A Good Girl (Freak On a Leash Part 1/2) 😈❄️

Momiji—(Sengoku Jidai AU Childhood Story) ❄️

Mid-Autumn Lunar Festival PART 1: Jubilation ❄️

Mid-Autumn Lunar Festival PART 2: Intertwined Contentment 😈❄️

Home for Homecoming (Grand Line High AU) ❄️🥀

Affirming a Little Miracle ❄️

Beri For Your Thoughts ❄️

Multi-Part:

Fragment of Kronos: 4 Law Incident

Scenario Snippets:

Training Session 🗡 (slightly suggestive at the end)

Moodboard/Concepts Writings

Coming Soon: Grand Line High AU (big project since Oct.), other canon-verse snippets, etc.

Asks:

In-Depth Character Asks (family/found-family, likes, how they keep a journal, etc.)

WIPs:

Trafalgar Siblings Discoveries 2: Lamia & the Bestest Most Warmest Hat in the World

Herbal Medicine Lesson

Falsomya AU Ball

Ikebana Rose Shibari (N/SFW)

Freak on a Leash Pt. 2 (N/SFW)

Blackbirds Pt. 2

#writing masterlist #masterlist #navigation

[lord-tathamet]

Dinner Plans

A short story almost two years of age, that I once wrote for a university class. Found it again, dusted it off, polished it slightly, but let it retain that little bit of amateurish writing simply to marvel at how far I’ve come with my writing ever since. 

Enjoy. 

For the fifth time in the last two hours did the man with the moustache and sunglasses look up from his research and look at the face of the clock of the broken church. He scowled beneath the moustache, but forced himself to look at it regardless.

4:18 pm.

They were late, as per usual. He shook his head and focused back on his literature. He made the mental note to have a number of alarm clocks be send to each of them for next time. Flatteringly Photoshopped pictures of the Mexican coast reflected in his sunglasses while his eyes skimmed through the brochure's whimsical descriptions of the rich culture of its indigenous people and beautiful beaches.  He skipped through a couple of pages until he found what he was looking for. A decidedly too sharply fined and too pale fingernail stabbed into the page displaying the photograph of an ancient, grey pyramid.

The man sitting behind the shining aluminium table was tall, narrow and sharply dressed: a suit jacket with bloodstone cufflinks, black suit-pants, a clean white shirt only slightly wrinkled and  two buttons open. His legs ended in a pair of shiny, pointy shoes. His face was stern and angular, with pronounced cheekbones and a pointed chin. Bushy eyebrows sat above the pair of sunglasses that protected his eyes against the sun, and a long white moustache grew beneath the hooked nose which gave his appearance a certain roguish charm. A wavy mane of grey-white hair surrounded his face and hid the pointed tips of his ears, giving him certain qualities akin to an old lion. It was difficult to clearly guess his age, but anyone briefly passing by and glancing at him would take him for a very spry looking gentleman in his mid-fifties.

Leaning in on his read, the man with the white moustache made a few notes on a small block of paper. The pen he used was black, ornamented with silver filigree and absurdly expensive, as was the ink held within. Next to the note pad stood an untouched and by now cold cup of coffee, its content as pitch-black as a dark winter night and reflecting the bright afternoon sun above.  Disgusting in taste and disgustingly cheap in comparison, but he needed the table, and none of the waiters would bother him as long as he had at least one beverage in front of him, as maligned and untouched it was.

Cars rolled by exhuming grey fumes, the nearby fountain shot water into the air and people passed his table. Most of them in casual summer clothes, sundresses and cargo pants and shirts and some of them even with hats to gain some shade. For a moment, the man looked up from his notes and allowed himself a brief indulgence – the eyes behind the sunglasses darted from one healthy neck to another. A small, wolfish smile parted the pale lips and if there had been anyone to pay close attention, they would have gained a brief glance at his very pointed, very sharp and unusually long canines.

“Good afternoon, count.”

The man in the white moustache begrudgingly pulled his eyes away from his current mark – a lovely Turkish woman with streaming black hair that was climbing the stairs around the fountain just a shy dozen feet from his table, close enough for him to smell the sweet mixture of blood and perfume she exhumed – and he turned to the youth that had seated herself opposite of him, soundless and sudden as if she had appeared out of the thin air.

“And to you, countess. You are looking lively as always.”

She seemed young enough to be his granddaughter, though no one within their right mind would have thought to imagine a superficial familiarity between the two. A girl of fourteen years, with a healthy, rosy complexion and flowing, lush dark hair that curled at her shoulders, the sunshine twisting golden shimmers into its waves. Large doe-like eyes that projected innocence and hid a vicious intellect, a petite body that suggested fragility and cloaked the strength to bend iron bars as if they were straws. She was in white, of course she was, a pretty, knee-length dress and a white handbag in her lap and with her hands folded atop of it. The lid of her bag, the man with the moustache noted with a mild amusement, was riddled with numerous, colourful stickers and badges, and around her wrists hung several loops and bands of tiny gemstones like rainbow wreaths.

They were the only change about her since their last meeting.

“Thank you. My sincere apologies, there was an unfortunate delay with the train between Kassel and Hannover.” She shook her head. “More than five centuries since the invention of rail transport and still a simple thing like an open door may stall a train's journey for almost an entire fifteen minutes.”

She nodded at the travel brochure still open in front of him. “Are you already planning your next journey? I thought you would stay in Berlin a little while longer.”

“I am a traveller at heart, milady. Although my beloved home will always be in the heart of Europe, the other continents do possess their own charming allure,” he replied, setting the brochure and note block aside. “And besides, it has been a while since I have last visited the Americas. There must be much exciting game to be hunted there.”

“Always about excitement, is that the reason you wanted us all to meet here of all places?” The countess nudged her chin toward the broken church spire in the background, a disgusted sneer cracking her face. “And mirroring glass everywhere around us. One of these days, your thrill-seeking hunts might cost you your life.”

“How would the youth of your seeming generation say? No risk, no fun.” The count let his eyes wander around the square for a moment. “Where is Laura? The two of you were practically bound at the hip when we last met.”

The young-seeming woman stiffened in her seat. The snarl dissolved into a very neutral, very calm expression that seemed like it was carved from marble. “Laura is... no longer with us.”

A single eyebrow rose, but otherwise the count's face remained unmoved. “Hunters?

“No.” There was a subtle tremble of her lip, the count noted, before she continued: “She could no longer bear it, she told me, moments before she drove the knife through her own neck. She betrayed me, just like the others before her.”

“My condolences.”

She nodded, her face remaining neutral. “It has been over three decades since. I have moved on as best as I could.

“In fact,” she allowed herself a smile,” I happen to have a date just after we met up with our friends.”

“You still insist on fraternizing with your prey?” The count sneered. “Now that is a carelessness that will get you killed one day.”

“Because unlike you, I seek actual companionship?” Her eyes glinted like sharp icicles in the sun. “Because unlike you, I do not wish to to prolong myself in solitude and run afoul like some pack-less dog? Because I want to spend this blasted eternity with someone like myself?”

Blue flashed and briefly turned red. For a moment, the two stared at each other with an intensity not unlike of two big cats, every individual muscle tense and ready to pounce. Then as quickly as the moment came, it passed.

“I did not mean to insult you, milady. Forgive me. I only worry about others of our kind. We are already so very few remaining,” the count sighed.

“Do not kid yourself, count. You care for nobody but yourself,” the countess replied, but she too relaxed in her seat.

The next five minutes they spent in silence. The count returned to his brochure, only briefly looking up to take notes and to send another quick glance up at the clock tower. The young woman had produced a smartphone from her handbag and immersed herself in the screen, brief smiles lighting up her face in between her typing and the brief ping of sent messages.

“Empusa will be here in half an hour,” she said after little while and looked up from the screen. “She is picking up Lamia from the airport and helping her through customs right now.”

“What about Schreck?”

“The sun is still up, remember? He will meet us after dusk.”

“His mutation is as highly fascinating as it is impractical,” the count murmured. “Why didn't they update me about it?”

“We do possess a text chain, you know. I'm surprised you are not part of it, since you are always the one organizing our meetings.”

“I refuse to touch one of those damnable Apps ever since Lestat sent around pictures of his own rectum to everyone.”

“Suit yourself. Why the Americas?”

The count tapped his finger on the table. “The Mexica people of pre-Columbian America possessed fascinating religious rites related to blood sacrifice to honour their gods...I wonder if there might be others of our kind still in their old territory.”

The countess fiddled with her smartphone. “Sometimes, I admit, I envy your ability to travel without restraint. I tried everything, yet I still must return to my family's tomb ever so often.”

“Have you considered moving your tomb in its entirety, stone by stone? There are still many old woods and mountain valleys unmolested by human hand. I am sure the hags you usually travel with would be most grateful for the exercise.”

“I have tried, once, when Laura was still with me.” A twinge of sorrow crept across her face. “I wanted to go far, far away from home and take her with me. But then, my body began to wither, my senses to decay the longer I prolonged returning to my tomb for a night. Laura, too, could not go long without a place to return to. Horse-carriages can only get you so far. And when we tried to move a single stone, what little strength I had left in that moment was about to leave me.”

The count hummed. Then his own phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, swiped across the screen, read the message in silence. A wolfish grin split his face.  

“Then you'll be happy to know that I plan on putting an end to these laws that seem to bind us.”

“What to you mean?” The countess leaned forward, an eyebrow arched.

“I planned on surprising all of you when Schreck, Lamia and the others would be gathered with us, but I might just as well reveal it all now,” the count smiled and leaned back, hands tapered together. There was a red gleam to his eyes, behind the sunglasses. “In my studies of the Americas, I came across a new initiate to our little circle – one that shares many of my own tastes and wishes to help others of his kin. Among such, is breaking the accursed bindings placed upon us.”

He extended a pointing finger. “He is currently sitting on the other end of the Breitscheidplatz. The tall man, olive skinned, with the gold rings in his ears.”

The countess followed his direction, narrowed her blue eyes to a glint. “What is his name?”

“The old Mayan people called him Camazotz. And he might very well be one of the first of our kind to walk this earth.”

On the other end of the square, the tall, olive-skinned man with golden rings in both his ears turned his head and nodded at them. His eyes gleamed in a blood-red, and for just a moment, both of the undead nobles could catch a glimpse of his shadow flickering across the wall behind him.

For just a split-second, they saw the shadow of a bat the size of a small house, stretching its wings and enveloping the street within its grasp.

#dracula #vampire #vampires #supernatural #carmilla #nosferatu #fanfiction #? #definitely fanfiction #horror #modern day #my writing #fiction

[littleladymab]

did someone say stardust!jonmartin AU

I DID, and @pizza-snake​ and I have been talking about it all day. We have some details all worked out, but not a very coherent outline of those facts. Will I write a full fic for it? Maybe, but until then, I will write snippets and add to this list of ideas: 

Tristan is Martin, who is trying to win the approval of his Mother 

He promises to bring her a star to show how much he does love her!!! 

Dunstan is Tim, so he’s actually Martin’s roommate. 

He’s a good friend, and is also “yo, listen, you don’t have to prove anything to her???? She’s an awful person to yoU????” 

He had a dalliance on the other side of the wall once, won’t stop talking about her, Martin is convinced she’s made up but is too kind to say so. 

He's been trying to go back but he can't schmooze the guard anymore because he wizened up to Tim's antics 

Lamia is Jonah, an aging warlock who just wants to stay young and powerful forever. 

He hears of a fallen star and wishes to retrieve it so that he can have it’s eyes

The successors are the other Avatars 

NO They’re not related they are just trying to do a power grab when Gertrude dies

Septimus is Peter Lukas

Primus is Simon Fairchild

Una is Sasha 

Which makes Ditchwater Sal the Stranger, who keeps her prisoner! 

Gertrude dies and persnaps she has this powerful gem that can be used to let whichever Avatar has it to bring about their own Apocalypse or something and as one final ‘fuck you’ to the avatars she just ollies it into the stratosphere

It hits Jon, The Most Disagreeable Star to ever fall to Stormhold. 

Georgie is Captain Shakespeare, her first mate (and girlfriend) is Melanie, and Daisy and Basira are there too

When I write this as a Full Fic, I will have shenanigans, don’t you worry (you remember in the book how there is this whole secret society mentioned and then it’s only mentioned twice and never discussed and it’s like what the HELL DOES THIS ALL MEAN yeah I need to give the girls SOMETHING to do)

And for sticking around, here’s a little scene for you all to enjoy 

++++

Dancing vs Dueling

Georgie settles into her stance, hands lifted carefully before her, weight on her back foot. 

Martin stares at her dumbly, his grip completely wrong on his sword, and confusion written over every inch of him. 

She taps the blade of his sword with her own. “Come on, Blackwood. At least try to pay attention.” 

He flushes as he settles in to mimic her stance, though with a bit more flair that completely necessary. Alright, so maybe he has had a little training, but not nearly enough. “Right,” he says. “Sorry.” 

“No need to be sorry,” she says, “just follow my movements.” 

Dueling is a dance of its own. It needs two people on even footing, a balance of rhythm. A back and forth between partners. 

Against Melanie, it has always felt like an argument — but a scripted one, the sort of witty reparté and banter that belong on the stage. Dancing and dueling, though Melanie is a better dueler than a dancer. But it is a pace that is comfortable and familiar and Georgie loves it as much as she loves her partner. 

The first few steps with Martin are a fumble, but Georgie is patient (and strict). Each error she resets them back to the beginning. “Again,” she says, as Martin shuffles the wrong foot forward on an advance. “Again,” she says, as he grips too high up the hilt. “Again,” she says, as he nearly stabs Basira with a blade pointed too low and his own shoelaces coming undone. 

He doesn’t argue. He just resets on her command. 

Dueling is a dance that is hard to learn, but Martin proves an apt student. 

Jon, on the other hand, is incredibly stubborn. Rivals Melanie’s level of stubbornness, though she knows better than to say it outloud. (She is certain that Martin has picked up on it as well, though, and enjoys sharing the look of fond exasperation with him when the pair is at odds.) 

One look at Jon, and Georgie knew that he is not cut out for dueling. His wrists, for one thing, barely look strong enough to wield the carving knife at dinner. 

So she teaches him to dance instead. 

If he is what she suspects him to be, then he’s not a very graceful one. Perhaps the rhythm of the heavens abandoned him when it was forced to inhabit such knobby knees and bony elbows. 

“Chin up,” she says when she catches him staring at their feet again. “At least try to look like you enjoy my company.” 

This gets him to flush in embarrassment, and he mutters an apology that’s something along the lines of how he does, actually, enjoy her company. And that’s why he doesn’t want to be rude and tread on her feet. 

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m a strong woman,” she tells him, sweeping him across the deck of her ship as he stumbles to keep up. “I’d rather like it if you looked me in the eyes while we’re dancing.” 

He looks up at her sharply, as if she had said something that made him alarmed, but all she does is wink and his lips form a perfect moue. He must have practiced that while looking down and observing the rest of them. 

When Georgie and Melanie dance, she can feel Jon’s eyes on them — studying their movements, their footwork, the unspoken give and take as they obey the beat of the song. 

The next time she dances with Jon, he’s more sure of himself. He rarely checks his feet. He keeps Georgie’s gaze, like a challenge, and she can’t help but smile. He dances like it’s a duel, a game of take and give. 

“Dancing is a partnership,” Georgie tells him as she stops them mid-beat. 

His brow furrows. “I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” 

This time, he frowns. “I’m doing it exactly as you and Melanie dance.” 

She expected that, figured it, and rolls her eyes fondly at him. “Then maybe you should dance with Martin.” 

Jon stutters, and to her amusement, the blush turns to a soft diffused glow across the surface of his skin. “Why—?” 

“Are you really asking me that question?” 

He at least doesn’t answer that. 

“Martin?” Georgie calls, turning to glance over her shoulder where the other man is currently looking extremely overwhelmed by the drills that Daisy is trying to run him through. 

Martin looks up eagerly at the sound of his name. “Yes?” 

“Care for a different sort of footwork lesson?” 

“Georgie,” Jon hisses, tugging on her hands to try and pull her attention back. 

“Jonathan,” she teases, and steps aside as Martin arrives. Georgie gently passes Jon’s hands over to Martin and backs away with a courteous bow. “A hint: Avoid getting your feet stepped on, and you’ll make a decent duelist yet.” 

To her utter amusement, neither of them are looking at her as they nod. 

From the upper deck, leaning over the balustrade and looking down at the scene as she mans the gramophone, Melanie gives Georgie a knowing smirk. She starts the song over again from the beginning without waiting for the command. 

Jon and Martin stand hand-in-hand in the middle of the deck, the rest of the crew clearing a space for them — and at least pretending like they’re not looking. Their heads are bent close together, having a brief muttered conversation before their hands settle into the correct place and Martin takes the lead. 

He’s a surprisingly decent dancer, considering how rough his dueling was at the beginning. And where Jon would strain against Georgie’s lead (the way that Melanie would, the conversation that he doesn’t know the words to that he tries to perform anyway), he submits himself to Martin’s careful pace. 

Georgie ascends the short flight of stairs to join Melanie on the railing, letting her arm slip around the other woman’s waist. “Too soon?” she asks as they watch Jon and Martin stutter their way through the steps. 

“More like took long enough,” Melanie replies with a scoff. She tilts her chin down at the two men, as Jon laughs at something and ducks his head against Martin’s chest. “Do they think they’re being subtle?” 

“Jon’s glowing, I don’t know how that is for subtle.” 

“Even when he’s not, Martin looks at him like he’s seen the sun.” 

Georgie snorts and tilts her head against Melanie’s. “Try not to sound too bitter, love, or else I’d think you’re jealous of them.” 

Melanie gives an answering snort of her own. “Was I ever that soppy?” 

“You were that oblivious.” 

Melanie just groans, but doesn’t push the conversation, and instead they continue to watch the two dance. 

#i'm writing a second scene but i am tired i will finish it tomorrow #the magnus archives #a lil miss fic #OH MY TUMBLR DASH SURE IS EATING MY INDENTED BULLET POINTS I'M SORRY

[floosies]

bury a friend: The Story of Noctua

pairing: steve rogers x possessed!oc x mcu!au

summary: there have been sightings of a dark creature who vanishes with night and in the mornings only remains of once living people are found scattered in open fields or forests nearby.

warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of attempted suicide, violence, gore, cursing, mentions/scenes of sexual nature.

Please read with discretion. 18+ content.

A/N: This is my first attempt at something more dark. It’s been in my brain since hearing some of biilie’s works and quiet frankly I want to venture into new territory. However, I understand the severity of some topics that I will write about. If you or someone you know is in need please look at these resources.

Part 2: The Happening

In ways her powers heightened with the passing of time. It’d been another decade or so since the last time she’d seen an avenger. Jumping to different futures she saw they existed regardless, in different variations. The being knew it was inevitable, “I may deter them for a while more but they will find you. It is part of each timeline. I cannot stop them, this a force greater than mine.” So unknowingly she did as her true parentage did and went into hiding.

Deep in the forests of Europe she hid, still killing when it let her know of horrid acts upon the innocent. That’s how they found her. There was a sighting of a dark loom over a lake bed in the German woods. Knowing she would not speak to Strange, they sent the super soldiers and Maximoff. Little did they know they would be walking into a ceremony. Time moved in a different way for the young lamia, she was a witch blessed with youth. Her mortal age was unaccounted for what truly mattered. She was now entering young adulthood in the sense of her witch kind. 

The being had spoken to her about the ceremony since her early training days. It showed her past examples, some more bloodied than most. Others offered their virtue in exchange for their powers. It was a rebirth of sorts. However because her powers came directly from the being, her ceremony would depend on the attendance of watchers, as it could not be the only living thing present for the ritual. She knew they were coming, it’d warned her to prepare for that night. The catch was she could not harm them until after they’d witnessed her rebirth. Their blood would be the sacrifice needed as the gift in return for her strength.

She’d prepared herself, bathing and feasting on delicacies from around the world.  Still deep in the German woods, the spring nights were cold. She only wore a silk ivory gown with a simple golden crown. She could feel their presence near and began the fire.

Before the war, when Steve was still a scrawny kid, he believed in many things. Now that’d he seen the future and all it holds, he could no longer feel that way towards what he once thought was true. However, seeing her made a chill run down his spine. He wasn’t the only one though.

The three all felt a sense of fear and regret, as they watched the scene unfold. They could hear it’s voice as it guided the lamia to levitate over the fire, chanting latin spoken spells. Her eyes were hazed over in white, her hair was as dark as the sky above them. Frozen from what they were witnessing, neither the scarlet witch or the super soldiers could form a coherent thought as to whether they should stop it or not.

Regret would begin to fill in the incoherence for she waited not long after to take them at a choke hold and levitate them to her view. Seeing the agony on their face, she smiled. It didn’t last though, as she was so contempt in knowing who she was going to dismantle, she looked into their memories. Their pasts, so clouded in pain and agony, she could not bare it with her own. They began to fall from the air into the soft grass on the ground. 

Wanda tried first to use this moment of disarray to her advantage. Noctua would not have it and with a simple motion of her hand she stuck her onto tree. Bucky tried next to shoot her with a tranquilizer, they meant not to kill her afterall but to bring her back with them. She disarmed him in the same efficiency she did to the Wanda, expect she planted him into the soil around her. Steve was different though, “we didn’t come to harm you.” His voice had good intention, the being spoke softly. “Let the golden boy speak.” She stood her ground as he neared her.

Still a sense of fear lurked in her, “halt come not nearer. Speak from where you stand, and I will decide if you are worth mercy.” He nodded not wanting more harm brought upon his friends, “please come with us. Your powers are of good use, killing innocent people isn’t-” Anger surged through her, “they are anything but. They are monsters that deserved their endings. Their souls are now in eternal agony for the atrocities they committed upon innocent harmless people.” The power in her voice boomed through forest like an earthquake. He shook his head though, “this isn’t justice though. It isn’t right to simply kill out of emotion.” She knew he had a point, so did the being, “Tenebrae, what is your judgement so far,” he looked puzzled, then he heard the being speak. “The boy is right, I have been selfish allowing you to kill at your leisure for the mere satisfaction of ending brutes with their kind of force.” She looked bewildered, it continued though, “however, had it not been for your murderous mannerisms, you would not have gain your strength, learned your abilities, or ended mortal suffering for many helpless souls... Perhaps, I do not need a sacrifice tonight, young lamia noctua.”

A cold wind was felt after it finished speaking, it served as a manner of ending the argument. She released the imprisoned soldier and witch, both to apologize and assure herself she still had her powers. Steve looked around to make sure they were okay, “I apologize. Tonight was an important evening, and I assumed you meant harm.” Her voice was soft now, like a pillow of feathers on a tired night. Steve spoke again, “we do not. However, we do request you come with us.” Immediately she spoke, “no. I have seen what they did to Maximoff, I traveled into the future many moons ago. I saw how they hurt you. I was once subjected to that life. Caged and made to feel worthless, I will not live that way ever again.” She spoke sternly. It was Wanda who intervened now, “they do not wish to take your powers from you. We simply want you to use them as a way to protect those who cannot protect themselves.” Searching her mind, she found no evidence of deceitfulness. 

The silk sleeves of her dress felt cold as she contemplated for a moment, “I’ve seen your pasts. You all know agony and loss like the kind I’ve had to endure, why would you use your abilities for those undeserving of them.” A sigh escaped Steve’s lips as he took in the depth of her words, “you can decide who deserves your help. Trust me, I have.” It wasn’t his answer though, it was Bucky’s. His memories were the most tortured, his past was one she wished she could have saved him from. Her eyes met his, and for a second they gazed at each other.

He had never seen eyes the color of the crown she wore. They were bright gold with red rimmed pupils. Then she saw Steve, he had a look of a worried father, something she’d never had. Wanda had neither a worried or interested gaze, just eyes looking for an answer. Perhaps Tenebrae was right, “I will go with you, but if I find it unsettling or sense I to be harmed I will leave without warning.” They nodded leading to her their flying vessel. She thought to herself, in a matter of short time, she would be in front of others with abilities that could compare to hers. A voice in her head spoke then, “no abilities on this realm compare to the ones you have been blessed with Noctua, none of them could ever be capable of destroying you. They should fear you and your greatness my daughter.” It’s voice was kind and filled with praise, it made her calm. It raised her as it’s own, she would not be without help. They should fear her, and if it came to it, they would.

-

Tenebrae: dark

Noctua: owl

Lamia: witch

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #mcuedit #mcu au #oc!female #witch #sorceress #chris evans #sebastian stan #elizabeth olsen

[trashtheater101]

Prompts

Been meaning to make this for a while: Free list of skele-prompts! No credit needed (although I’d love to read it if you make one, maybe drop me a note?), and feel free to change ANY of the details or ships. This list is meant to ✧INSPIRE✧ not restrict. 

These are largely old ideas that I realize I’m probably never going to get around to writing myself and thought I’d share. Mostly Papcest, but there’s some left open for Fontcest and Sanscest, and you can always change it up. I probably forgot some, so I’ll add to it as I remember them.

RoyalMoney (Poppy/Cash)

Poppy is a wealthy, and unbearably bored Nigerian prince. Kept safe and sound, a prisoner in the castle by his overprotective brother, Poppy is allowed only limited contact with the guards or servants, and nothing at all with the outside world. When a thief breaks in through his bedroom window (captured easily by the Great Prince Poppy! He’s sheltered, not helpless!), Poppy can't help being intrigued… [His brother can shove it; He’s decided to keep this one.]

Fellcest (Red/Edge)

Red is a scientist. Or at least he used to be. He’s studied the wonders of the universe, tested the limits of time-space, and even broken through the divides between worlds. […none of it compared to learning the way his brother reacts to flirting.]

SpicyHoney (Edge/Stretch(Rus))

Edge is a loyal knight, through and through, and Rus is the true heir to the throne. Edge is determined to protect him no matter the cost. Even now that the kingdom has been overthrown and they were barely able to escape with their lives. Even now that they must keep moving, and live in hiding, lest Rus be captured and executed. Even though Rus is used to being pampered and spoiled, and Edge is the only one left to treat him with the sort of devotion and reverence that a true prince deserves. [Originally a Edge x Anyone, but the pouty, stubborn prince kept morphing into Rus, soooo…]

Edge and Stretch are stuck in a car together for a long trip, and expect to bicker the whole time. Unfortunately 5 minutes in one of them accidentally confesses. Neither are prepared for this, and now the car ride is spent dealing with THIS instead... oh dear… 

Stretch needs to get a physical. Cool, no big, even doctors aren’t sure what to do with a pile of bones, so no point in being embarrassed, and—bonus!—most don’t know how skeleton magic works, so he gets to skip the more invasive stuff. Except—wait—this time his doctor is a skeleton? A really hot skeleton?? And since Stretch is missing so much from his chart, he’s getting a THOROUGH exam??? ...great… [Bonus points for Stretch aggressively flirting to hide his nerves, “w-wow doc. i don’t usually spread my legs before the first date, haha. guess you must be special.”]

SpicyBBQ (Edge/Slim)

Edge’s new lamia is a dominant type, strong, and eager to breed him. But Edge isn’t inclined to submit, and he’s pretty sure he knows exactly how to tame his horny pet. [Succeed or fail, both are tasty~.]

MapleBlossom (Slim/Papyrus)

Slim is the lead singer/guitarist/drummer in an up and coming band. Hanging out at an afterparty of one of his shows, some cute little groupie, or a fan, or whatever, catches his attention when they start chatting him up. Slim is charmed, and while he’s got a pretty firm rule about not fucking the fans, he’s gotta make an exception this time. He’s gonna rock this groupies world. [Except that Papyrus isn’t a groupie. Or a fan. He was just invited along by a friend and thought this stranger might want someone to talk to. But boy is he flattered by all the attention! Is this… flirting?!?] 

SweetMoney (Sugar(HT!Pap)/Cash)

Taking his first ever train trip to the big city, Sugar ends up sitting next to a stranger. Cash seems friendly enough on the ride, but when they get off he refuses to leave??? He keeps insisting it’s too dangerous for someone like Sugar to be alone in the city, and that all well and good, but Sugar’s pretty sure he has a stalker now??? Blood had warned him about this… oh well… For a stalker, Cash is awfully charming. 

Edge x _______

Edge is an Alpha. All the Papyruses are Alphas, so of course he’s an Alpha. He is the most Alpha-y-est Alpha to ever Alpha, thank you very much. And as long as he keeps taking his Alpha-supplements, surely no one will be any the wiser. But the supplements can only repress his instincts so much when he’s surrounded by so many fine, aggressively-dominant Alphas. And let’s be real, how long would it really take a group of Alphas to notice an Omega in their midst? [Easily could be one-on-one, but this prompt is feeling pretty gang-bang-y to me~] 

In hindsight I think I may have seen this idea around before (so let me know if it’s already a thing…), but Edge as a Heinz Doofenshmirtz-(Or like MegaMind, Dr. Horrible, fuckin.... Team Rocket??)-style villain! Over the top dramatic! But also pretty ridiculous... But definitely EVIL!!!!! But also is he though??? Red is his henchman. His love interest can be the Hero, but also could be his usual kidnapping victim, or the cute skele from the laundry mat, or I suppose his henchman, or a brand-new unique dynamic! 

Loud Top Edge. That’s really all I’ve got for this prompt. It really didn’t have to be under Edge specifically… you could make it anyone, but I was thinking of Edge. ...as just... a… noisy… really verbal top... yeah...~<3

Papyrus x _______

Someone has been stealing apples from Papyrus’s apple orchard, and he is determined to catch the culprit! [Well, it turns out the culprit happens to be very attractive and that is a whole new, very different problem!]

Papyrus x _______/Sans x _______

Undertale is Universe 0. It’s the base, the original, the one every universe is spun off of. As such, there is some sort of general law of attraction pulling all the copies towards their originals. Or at least, that’s Sans’s theory anyway. That would explain all these Sans’s that keep hitting on him and—don’t think i don’t notice the rest of you making passes at my bro-! are you looking for a b a d  t i m e ? 

Bonus Lamia prompt

[A]’s lamia goes into a submissive heat. No matter what they do, however, [A] can’t seem to satisfy them. A quick google search reveals their lamia is looking to be bred with eggs, but—uh—[A] can’t produce eggs, and neither of them really want kids yet anyways, and—hey, you can buy safe to insert pseudo-eggs!—Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna give you just what you need~ 

- - - - -

A list of loose themes and thoughts. Poke through and see if anything catches your attention. Or maybe mix some together? (Conveniently numbered for a random number generator!) 

1. Bitties

2. Asleep on shoulder

3. Shopping trip

4. Bandaging after sparring 

5. Broken down car

6. Attractive salesman

7. Trapped in a box~ 

8. Good old fashioned temporary amnesia 

9. Is that a dog in your jacket? 

10. “If you touch him I will END you...!”

11. Crossover

12. Lamias

13. The meal was unrecognizable...You eat it anyways. 

14. Classic fairytale, but with a twist! 

15. A more obscure fairytale. (With all the ‘wtf??’s they tend to entail.)

16. “Please tell me you meant to do that...”

17. Ectoboobies

18. “God, you’re so hot… You look hot! SWEATY! Do you want a drink!?!?”

19. “F-FLIRTING? SO YOU FINALLY REVEAL YOUR ULTIMATE FEELINGS!?”

20. Borrowed pajamas

21. Candle light

22. BEACH DAY

23. Someone not normally collared: collared~! 

24. “Sit down and shut up! ...I’m going to serenade you now.”

25. “What will it take to make you realize I’m no good for you?” 

26. Running out of water

27. Physically shielding from harm

28. Can’t stop staring

29. Broke something important

30. He only ever acted like this when he was covered in dust…

31. Well... people always say you should marry a doctor

32. “I think I’m falling for you” 

33. “Guess you fell for me~” 

34. A bad vacation

35. Missing the bus 

36. A WAY too fancy restaurant

37. Good morning kiss

38. That’s probably a serial killer chasing you tbh. 

39. Lost & alone… 

40. Annoying Dog is secretly a matchmaker

41. A goodbye note

42. Freezing cold

43. A slow dance after the lights go down

44. Exploring

45. Hey! You’re that actor/singer/etc I like-! Why are you grinding on me!?!? 

46. “I failed you…”

47. A non-traditional Heat symptom

48. Soul-bonding: the aftermath. 

49. 2 dudes sittin in a hot tub, 5 ft apart cause they’re very gay and sorta nervous and-gosh-it sure is hot in this hot tub… 

50. Flowey: “Okay, look. I don’t normally give advice but…”

#Fontcest #Papcest #Sanscest #Prompts

[jflashandclash]

Tales from Mount Othrys

Magical Daycare IV

           Axel let out a string of cusswords.

         “Lou! Get her to the corner with her clothes!” From the shrill in Alabaster’s voice, Pax could deduce three things about Alabaster: he hadn’t realized Pax was a boy, he had never seen a naked girl outside of a magazine, and he was covering his eyes. Either that, or Alabaster had a thing or two to learn about girl anatomy, possibly true if Alabaster had never seen a naked girl.

         Lou Ellen took Pax’s elbow. She pulled him towards the shelves. “Come on, before you give my brother a—”

         When she quarter turned Pax, she went bright red and burst into giggles. “Oh!” she said.

         There weren’t a lot of options on how to react. He could apologize for his nudity and for tricking all of them earlier. He could sprint to the corner and pretend to be embarrassed. (Nudity had never bothered him.) That felt disingenuous. What would Uncle Frasco have done? How could he keep Axel focused on reprimanding him instead of attacking the witches for exposing his face?

         Pax winked his hazel eye at Lou Ellen. “My uncle said the best mornings are filled with surprises.” He tried to give her a charming smile.

         Pain erupted in Pax’s ear. Axel might have been about to rip it off as he dragged Pax away from Lou Ellen, towards the corner with his clothing. “Don’t be a creep!” Axel snarled.

         “Aye!” Pax complained. He switched to Spanish to whine, “I’m young enough; she might have thought it endearing and adorable instead.”

         Uncle Frasco said Pax would only have a few more years that he could use age and ignorance as an excuse. Might as well use it.

         “Get dressed,” Axel said. The tone cut off any more resistance.

Axel had handled killing the praetor. He’d handled chasing Pax down after Pax had run away—Pax knew Axel would. (Pax had just hoped the rest of their siblings would have been here with them.) Now, one of Axel’s last defenses had been robbed from him. Without the illusion, Pax could clearly see Axel’s massive canines, the gold glint to his eyes, and the way his tufted ears folded back into his hairline, several inches higher than a human’s would have been. Pax wondered if Axel could recreate the illusion when Alabaster was holding the old one or if Lou Ellen’s “Mist” weakening ward would make it difficult.

         Without complaint, Pax slipped the huge band shirt over his head and tied the flannel shirt back around his waist. Although now wasn’t the time to investigate, Pax could feel something in the flannel’s front pocket. There hadn’t been anything before. Had Mercedes put something in there when she moved his clothing?

         “They just seemed curious,” Pax said. “I don’t think they meant harm.” He was scared of upsetting Axel more. His older brother only ever showed his real features around the circus, where people thought it was costume make up or were performers that didn’t care. When their papa made a big deal about it, saying it showed favor from the gods, it made Axel even more self-conscious.

         “Is she dressed?” Alabaster called.

         Lou Ellen’s voice trembled with repressed giggles, “Almost.”

         If she let him, Pax would hug her later for continuing the farce on the older boy. He liked making Alabaster flustered.

         Now that Axel had accepted his features would be visible, he jammed his hands into his pockets. When the two of them approached the witches’ work table again, Axel scowled, making his elongated canines look more vicious.

         Once, when their youngest sibling, Hiro, had cried at seeing Axel’s barred fangs, Pax had grabbed Axel’s jaws and opened and shut them saying, “Nom. Nom. Nom!” It sent Hiro into a fit of giggles. Pax hardly resisted doing so now, though doubted it would ease Axel’s tension.

         Lou Ellen gave Pax a wink when they returned. “She’s dressed.” From the expression, Pax could tell it wasn’t a flirtatious wink but a mischievous one. Pax got the feeling she liked to mess with her sibling’s heads as much as he did.

         Alabaster had uncovered his eyes to pick Axel’s fake face off the ground. He must have dropped it when Pax transformed. After clearing his throat and pretending his face wasn’t bright red, Alabaster held the illusion up. “This is excellent craftsmanship, though completely unnecessary. Lots of monsters on the ship have a combo of humanoid and animal features.”

         “I’m not a monster,” Axel snarled, not helping the claim. Best way to convince people you’re not terrifying: bare your fangs at them.

         Lou Ellen’s Mediterranean tan shifted to a deeper red. She seemed more enchanted with him now that she could see the shorter, spotted fur below Axel’s ears, where he pretended to shave his hair. “People have animal features too. You should see our sister, Lamia. What are you?”

         The question wasn’t said with a scared or harsh tone, just curiosity. The Pax boys were used to hearing it in so many capacities. Pax and Lapis got it about their gender. Hiro, with his monolids, and Axel with his ambiguous bronze skin, got it about their race.

         “Maybe some sort of massive cat?” Lou Ellen continued, not seeming to realize how rude her question was. “You don’t have slit eyes—”

         “Large cats don’t have slit irises, Lelly,” Alabaster chided.

         Axel cut off their conversation by motioning towards his face. “This was not for the public to see.”

         Alabaster’s gaze went from distantly considering Axel’s face to narrowing at Axel’s eyes. He cleared his throat and held the illusion out for Axel.

         Axel snatched it from Alabaster and began smoothing the mask of brown eyes, human ears, and shorter canines back to his features. He muttered in Mayan while he worked.

         “I—I’m sorry,” Alabaster said, “I let my curiosity get the best of me. I’ve never seen someone tweak just a tiny bit of their face before. Lou Ellen is right though. You don’t need to hide your features here.”

         “You’re even hotter with your real ones,” Lou Ellen said.

         Pax glanced at Axel to see if the older one blushed.

         Axel cleared his throat. His mouth moved like he had a response.

         He didn’t.

         Pax gave Lou Ellen an appreciative grin. That was the best way to disrupt tension: shocking it out of people.

         “You guys are cool,” Pax said.

         This time, Alabaster blinked in surprise. “That’s not the typical response we receive when turning people into small mammals.”

         Most people, Pax decided, didn’t naturally have the disposition for cute, furry things the way that Pax did.

         Pax scurried up to Alabaster’s side. The boy didn’t flinch back when Pax tugged his lab coat sleeve. Pax tilted his chin down and batted his eyelashes at Alabaster, the way he’d learned from Kouta’s girlfriends and some of the prostitutes their dad occasionally hired for parties and business meetings. “Can you really do magic?”

         Alabaster stared at Pax for a moment, his brow furrowing in confusion. “As can the two of you, apparently?” his question was directed more at Axel. “Are the two of you children of Hecate?”

         “Half our siblings are monsters,” Lou Ellen said, seeming to forget that Axel really didn’t like the M word.

         “No,” Axel said.

         Neither Axel nor Pax knew what to say about their parentage. Pax didn’t like saying who his mother was. Not with the mini-cult his father had formed around her and the way that cult treated Pax.[1]

         Could they talk about Axel’s heritage with anyone on this ship?

         Lou Ellen tilted her head to one side. The black locks of her ponytail tumbled against one shoulder. “Are you even Greek?” she asked. “You two have some other magic that interfered with my vial.”

         Alabaster appeared to forget Pax for a moment. “I haven’t read of cat people in Greek mythology. Maybe—Egyptian? Though I suppose that would be your full head. Mesoamerican?”

         If Alabaster were throwing at a map of the world, he would have been hitting way too close to home. Axel flinched, like each of those metaphorical darts could blow up the country of Belize. To be fair, Pax thought, Belize was a tiny country.

         Something high-pitched chimed.

         All four of them jumped.

         After a moment, Pax realized the sound had come from a ship’s intercom in the corner of the room.

         Alabaster sighed. He went to write something on his flip notebook. “I want to test your magic and how it interacts when combined with Greek magic,” he said. “They’ll want you on the top deck to test you for sword prowess, combat training, and knowledge of mythology. I’ll be up shortly to help with the assessment. They’re split into specific skills afterwards. I expect you to report back here during that time.”

         When Alabaster tore the piece of paper out of his flipbook, it glowed green. Axel hesitated to take it. At his pause, Pax snatched the sheet.

         He couldn’t read anything on the page. As they always did, the letters looked like abstract art to him. The sheet itself felt warm. “We get to come back!?” Pax asked. He failed at keeping the excitement from his voice.

         Alabaster gently removed Pax’s other hand from his lab coat. The motion wasn’t angry, just awkward, like Alabaster wasn’t used to people touching him. Him and Mercedes. Pax vowed to give them both more hugs. “Willing test subjects, especially in their rarity, are always welcome back to the lab.”

         Pax wanted to say that Alabaster could test on him all day. He rather liked turning into a weasel and was excited at whatever else the witch boy might have up his white lab sleeves.

         Instead, he grinned at Alabaster’s emerald gaze.

         Axel took Pax’s arm and pulled him from Alabaster’s side.

         Alabaster shook his head, his expression unreadable. “Surely, if you were capable of killing the praetor, Luke will be most enthusiastic to assign you into the Assault and Battery unit. However, it would be a waste to exclusively delve into the sword with talent like that.” He motioned towards Axel’s face. The bitterness to his words reminded Pax of the conversation they overheard between him and Luke. The sentiment was so strong, he almost overlooked the compliment.

         Axel grunted. “Don’t touch my illusion next time.”

         Pax gave them a shy wave goodbye. Lou Ellen giddily waved back as Axel backed them towards the exit. Pax wanted to point out that the two witches could have turned them into weasels easily, and that Lou Ellen was much more likely to do so to have Axel transform back naked than for any other malicious reason. But, since Uncle Frasco and Aunt Nilley’ murders, Pax knew there wasn’t any reasoning with Axel’s paranoia.

         Once outside with the lab doors shut, Axel relaxed.

         “They were awesome!” Pax said, “And they want us to come back! They—”

         Axel snagged Pax’s ear. “Do NOT drink something without asking what is in it. What would you have done if nuts were in there? Did you even think to bring an EpiPen from home?! And what if they’d wanted to drug you?!”

         “Your imagination is boring!” Pax whined. He didn’t want to consider the idea that his new friends could be bad people.

         “Yea, and if they were going to drug you, they would, like, totally slip it into the cafeteria’s fountain machine,” someone said directly beside them.

         Axel jumped and dragged Pax behind him.

         The blond, sunburned Nordic boy stood outside the doors, exactly where they had been eavesdropping before. His grin was so wide, Pax thought you could sell advertising space on it.

         “Matthias Severe Hanson,” he said and extended a hand.

         Both Axel and Pax stared skeptically at the hand. It clearly had an electric buzzer strapped to the palm.

         When neither bit, Matthias lifted his hand, shook the buzzer back and forth in their faces, and tapped his fingers together. Pax wondered how often Matthias shocked himself with the device if he tapped his fingers together so often.

         “You two are good. Pax, right?” He pointed a finger gun at Pax. “Did you get it?! That Mercedes Benz chick said that you got it.”

         For a moment, Pax didn’t know how to respond. This was the first person to properly introduce themselves, but he’d glazed over the introduction so rapidly, Pax was still back by “Matthias Severe Hanson.” But hadn’t this boy already said that he knew his name?

         “Got what?” Axel asked.

         The answer hit Pax with a bead of sweat. He puffed up his cheeks and popped them, reaching into pocket of the flannel shirt tied around his waist. As he feared, he withdrew a vial.

         Axel was going to kill him.

         Matthias bent his middle and ring finger down in some weird hand motion. “Awesome!” he cried.

         Pax darted to the side when Axel went to slap him across the head. “Ajax!” he snarled. “When did you even have time to grab that?! You were a weasel!”

Pax dashed behind Matthias as the blond pointed out, “Actually, that’s kind of weasels’ thing.”

         “I didn’t!” Pax squeaked, “Mercedes!”

         “Yea right,” Axel growled.

         She must have slipped it into his pocket when she moved his clothing. He’d unwittingly been part of a smuggling operation. And he’d just stolen from two witches. He knew what happened to people who stole from witches. “These aren’t…. drugs, are they? Am I going to be cursed?!”

         Matthias laughed again, snatching the vial from Pax’s fingers. He didn’t seem to mind his meat shield status between the two brothers. “Na, man. This is the perfect thing for a prank! Ohhhhhhh!!!!! Chris is going to owe you some drachma!”

         “No, he won’t. You are going to owe Alabaster and Lou Ellen an apolo—”

         Axel never got to finish his sentence.

         Someone threw an arm around Axel’s shoulder.

         Like any normal teenager would, Axel judo-flipped Jack over his shoulder and onto the floor.

         Jack’s butt and legs smacked loudly against the carpet. He clutched at the arm Axel had mangled. “Ow—holy titans, kid! That was—”

         Axel paled.

         He and Pax scrambled to help Jack up.

         “Don’t sneak up on me!” Axel said. He puffed up his cheeks and popped them. Clearly, losing his face once today had left him on edge.

         Jack gave him a pained grin as the brothers each took an arm. “We finished up our vocal practices and wanted to check on how you boys were doing with your caretaker. You got your dad good.”

         “You’re not my—” Axel bit back his own comment. Pax could tell Axel didn’t want to both physically and emotionally assault the redhead within minutes of each other, especially with Jack’s eyes watering the way they were.

         A few feet behind them, Flynn stood. She was in the middle of slipping her hair blades back into her bun. Pax realized, in alarm, she must have withdrawn them to use on Axel if things got out of hand. Their new mother was terrifying. Awesome, but terrifying. “You’re late to sword practice,” she said, crossing her arms.

         Pax tried not to feel disappointed. He would rather help with the witches all day. Unlike Lapis and Axel, he never did as well during fighting practice, though he did excel at evasion and running away. Running away was his favorite, next to eating Reese’s Sticks.

         During their altercation, Matthias must have slipped the vial into his pocket. He’d taken a few steps back, to stay clear of their new parents.

         “Are you coming to sword practice?” Pax asked.

         Matthias grinned. “If by sword practice, you mean lay down and prostate myself…? I find it discourages people greatly from stabbing me.”

         Flynn scowled at Matthias. Unlike most other people Pax had seen, Matthias didn’t cower away from her.

         “He doesn’t have to come to this training. He makes the traps for it,” Flynn explained.

         Matthias pinched his thumbs and forefingers at his collarbone, like he was wearing suspenders. He rocked forward. “I’m a mechanic.”

         Pax’s mind buzzed with ideas. He could be part of this violent cult and not fight? That sounded awesome. Mercedes mentioned the Spy Unit that she wanted to create, but how long would that take to make? “How do I become a mechanic? Or a witch?!”

         Jack choked on a laugh. He ruffled Pax’s hair. While talking, he shooed Axel and Pax towards the stairs. “Be a child of Hephaestus or Athena, usually. Or Hecate for the other. There are some people that are naturally skilled at it—”

         Matthias scurried alongside them. He, like Pax, struggled to keep up with Jack’s long strides. “Ximena is a daughter of Ares and she’s really naturally adept with engines, so she helps us a lot.” Matthias bobbed his head to unheard music and tapped his fingers in the air.

         Pax’s shoulders sagged. His mom definitely wasn’t one of those gods. He liked to sew and draw; he’d never been good at fixing the beat-up cars that their Chiich’s boyfriend brought back to their house.

         “Does Luke run all the fighting drills?” Axel asked.

         From what Pax had seen of Axel’s fighting, his older brother would be genuinely curious. Axel always wanted to learn more so he could better protect Pax. After seeing how powerful the witches were, he probably wanted a confidence booster.

         Jack beamed at them and looked at Flynn, his bright eyes wide. The way he whipped his head made his red locks flop into his eyes.

         “I run them,” she said, staring ahead as they twisted up several flights of stairs. Pax wished he would have counted how many they descended so he could make a countdown going up. “And, since I can’t show favoritism towards our… children,” she said the word with distaste, “I will need to be harsher on the two of you.”

         Axel beamed at the thought. Leave it to his brother to be excited about a good ass kicking.

         Jack grinned back. He poked Axel in the chest and nodded to Pax. “Before Flynn beats you up, you two are in for a surprise today.”

         They finally crested the last flight of stairs, to a pair of glass sliding door. As their sensors went off and they automatically slid open, allowing a burst of warm air to blast Pax in the face, he almost squeaked.

         Waiting outside the doors was a smirking Luke.

         He tossed a sword to Axel, then Pax.

         Matthias, seeming to sense the gravity of the situation, bolted.

         “You’re getting private lessons with me today,” he said.

         Remembering what Alabaster said about Luke’s mood and the way he’d struck the witch, Pax swallowed. They were dead.

***

 Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D Next week, I’m taking a short break, but I’ll come back the week after with Luke’s two-parter Big Boy Conversations.

***

Footnote:

[1] Mel betanote: “cults everywhere!” Jack, “Now you get a cult! And you get a cult!” the Greeks will be so pleased XD

#Tales from Mount Othrys #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #PJO #hOO #TFMO #fanfiction #Axel #Alabaster #Pax #Lou Ellen #Matthias #Jack #Flynn #Luke #Axel needs a leash for Pax #And a restraining order for Lou Ellen #He doesn't yet realize she can sneak into his room at any time with Pax's willing help

[bedlamgames]

Q&A #103

Today we have the Twine conversion, lesbian training mantras, social lube, a bunch of random stuff from the discord, and a whole lot more. 

[Anonymous said]: I'm really curious what the tally means for your twine conversion posts. Can't seem to figure out what its suppose to represent progress wise...

- Answered this last Q&A. Because of you asking I’ve now also added the explanation to what it’s about to every stream post so I hope that helped with understanding what’s going on with that.

[Anonymous said]: Suggestion: For races that start with a random corruption (ie: Succubi), have an option in full custom to spend points to either narrow what that corruption is (to be one of the four types, for example) or to outright pick one (for a much higher cost).

- That’s a good idea. Being able to pick specifically I think would be too much. There are ALOT of corruptions so that would mean many many menus to be able to select everything. Being able to pick one of the four types seems fair to me as something to spend points on in Full Custom. Added it to my notes. 

[Anonymous said]: Have a succubus slaver who used to be a lamia. On level up, she had the option to get the Fleet trait, which I thought was off-limits for Lamia due to their body shape. I think it's a bug?

- Good spot and should be fixed as of the last update. 

[Anonymous said]: Noticed a bug with No Haven 0.903: If you select a human (or once-human) for your character, and then quick restart, your next character will keep the human's Racial aspect Social Lube. On the topic of that Racial, it says " includes one human, and three other different races/subtypes gain an additional Success" Does that mean one human and three non-humans, or one human and three slavers each of a different race from each other?

-Took me awhile to work this out as going from human to human seemed fine. However you’re right that those with a heritage like demi-angels or succubi will incorrectly keep the previous racial. 

The second so as long as you have at least one human you can get the buff by say having a northerner, noble, wastelander, and convent. 

[Anonymous said]: hi bud, xfto/x421 here, its been a long time i guess. wanted to ask about the status of the no haven/twine conversation. i joined your picardo lately but couldnt post some reports since you dont allow guest-posts. well anyway, the report is about something ridiculous i have found after some restarts, the chosen main charakter (lamia) starts as male with the hard carry aspect(immense shaft) and different description than the ones the perks would give. 1/2

another question, feels like i asked something similiar in the past, how about the integration of different artpacks/access to older pics, or deletion of those that never get used? i guess that would requiere some more access to the game than you allow atm. maybe with twine? do you have a roadmap on tfgames or somewhere for the future of no haven? i know there are some more races you want to implement and improve some systems, but thats it, hope you are doing well in these times. 2/2

I do an update on the patreon every two weeks which is linked on the twitter. You do not need to be a patron to read these and is the best way to stay informed about what I’ve been up to. That includes the status of the conversion. To quickly sum it up;

It's at a stage where all the RAGS to Twine code conversion is basically done. What I need to do now is translate all that work into something playable and there's currently big logic issues with a bunch of the conditions and passages. So what I'm currently doing is trying to tidy up the visual look of the code with a bunch of idents with the theory that will make finding the errors easier.

Alas it’s not me disallowing guest posts... Picarto had some massive stonking issues and so they locked things down hard due to that preventing guests from chatting. I suggest a throwaway email site to get around that.

I don’t think there’s any art in the game file that’s not used as I try to keep on top of deleting the old ones. Not really down for doing art packs of the old ones as due to that not being my art so I see them as placeholder only until they can be replaced by commissions. 

I probably do need to do some kind of roadmap sometime. I’m less keen as it’s kind of a dirty word these days as due to the miss-use of them by others it’s got some bad connontations, but I’m also aware the alternative which is me randomly mentioning stuff on discord/picarto streams leaves the vast majority of my audience in the dark which is also really not ideal.

[Anonymous said]: [no haven 0.903] [Crit no longer grants Bimboborn] okay, but how do I get bimboborn now?

- It’s a corruption. Specifically Blessings of Perversion. 

[Anonymous said]: With the change to training where hypnotic slavers can fully embed the relevant mantras for blowjob, bimbo, and sissy training, could we also get that for lesbian training?

- Yes that’s the plan when I do the third part of lesbian training. Got a set of commissions planned just got to sort the funding and work out who I’m getting to do it. 

[Anonymous said]: hey bud, x421 here, again, might be already fixed because thats from no haven .903, but i recently had the witch queen super rare quest, you might want to proof read the quest and results, there are a few typos. i really did enjoy the writing nonetheless, just a quick question about that quest, as far as i understood this one, you only change your odds of the final result depending on how good you do on your way to the final, but the reward in the end only depends on the final result? 1/2

2/2 it just dawned on me that its been a while since you made an Q&A post so i guess i ll go and lurk on the tfgames forum in the next days, just one last question: i asked early in development about camp upgrades and you were not that convinced about that stuff, i understand you want the slaver camp as some bandit camp and not some castle/bastion or whatever, but since you added camp upgrades, maybe add proximity to a certain region? or something to spend supplies and gold in a 13month+ run?

- Hah! Okay will give it another read through.That’s correct yes. There’s also rewards on the way if you Critical those parts. 

There is a new gold sink coming soon in an upcoming update. I’ve also got plans for more camp upgrades coming later. 

[From the Patreon]: I'm that guy you replied to about the patch notes in Q&A 101. Solid updates. Bugs in the outfit system has driven me nuts since like, 2015, has it been that long already? I think it has. I like collecting them and something always blows up. This time, I ended up with a slaver wearing both the ooze outfit and ponygirl outfit. So there's that. Also I was disappointed the new Quicker then You'd Like wasn't interactive. Solid in any case though, thanks!

- I'll get them all one day I swear! Don't suppose you remember the chain of events that led to that? New QAYL was a patron requested one with the idea of having a big pay off for playing submissive which often involves playing sub-optimally.

[From the Patreon]: 1-ive been noticing when you choose to repick choices for an slave training assignment the slave gets added to the list of choices 2-also just how rare is the post-slave princess city assignment, cause i can never seem to get it even after selling multiple slave princesses 3-another thing is that the nightly puppet-leader stat is almost impossible to get again(either that or i have bedwarmers incapable of usurping me even thought i my current stats mean i couldnt win against even the subbiest slave)

- Will check 3 as you've not been the only person to mention that. 2 I know exists for sure as other people have definitely got it. Should be no rarer than any other rare City assignment, and thanks for the spot on 1.

[From the Discord]: Top 3 Animes of the 2010 to 2020

Mahou Shoujo Madoka★Magica the series was staggeringly good. Just redefined what anime could be to me. Film is a... well it was a thing. A beautiful thing with an ending which I still quite know how to feel about. 

Shirobako. It’s about creativity, craft, and about how people can come together to make something. It might not be something good, but dangit it’s been made and that’s worthwhile. It’s also from personal experience by miles the most accurate depiction of working in an office I’ve ever seen.

Oh man this is very very hard deciding on the third so pick one of the following and I could probably make a strong case for it. 

Kobayashi-san Chi no Maid Dragon, Darling in the FranXX (yes really, yes even the ending), Lupin III: Part 5, Kill la Kill, Monster Musume, Flip Flappers, Demi-chan wa Kataritai, Zombieland Saga, or Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai.

Also while I was taking the question to mean series both Your Name and Promare are absolutely phenonemal films. 

[From the Discord]: Best recent Eurovision Act

Lena. Always Lena. 

[From the Discord]: What's the agricultural technological level of No Haven like 

It’s not hit industrialization yet. What makes the difference is and allows cities like Aversol and even bigger to exist is that the organization of the human empire is far better than it has any right to be for the other levels of development being able to keep an incredibly complex supply chain constantly flowing even if on the ground level it barely seems to be moving at all. There are also some much, much larger farms both on the Great Plains and further to the north compared to the much more isolated single/couple of households ones that your slavers raid. 

[From the Discord]: What have been some of your all-time favourite assignments, both in terms of working on them and how they turned out?

Love When Week’s End Comes for a recent one. Writing all the results in colour commentary (and all the variations for weather, events and outcomes) was a real challenge and I do like how it came out. 

Witch-Queen and Arisin’ for being the first times I tried to go for a different, more potentially disturbing/freaky mood, and I’m pleased with the results. 

Sable Masquerade as I really like the ‘bad end’ I came up with. Actually I like the whole thing as while the pitch from the patron obviously helped, a lot of it was inspired by a random superhero bondage party picture I saw on HF, which I decided to run with, and had a bunch of fun exploring. 

[From the Discord]: Weirdest bug and most difficult bug

The one that resulted in a male wisp riding a griffon was a fun one. 

Most difficult has to be the clothing management which as a previous question suggests I’ve still not entirely solved. 

[From the Discord]: If No Haven was an MMO, what race/class would you play?

Kreen rogue mainly as I really like the edit I did for the portrait which MidnightonMars later translated into a commission. 

If not definitely a lamia. 

[From the Discord]: Knowing what you do now about the design of the game, are there any game mechanics you wish you'd have implemented differently?

Clothing management. So very much clothing management. I’ve redone it entirely twice now, and it’s still not where I want it to be. 

[From the Discord]: What was your inspiration for creating the setting of No Haven?  Has the direction the game has gone varied from your initial idea? If so what has been the biggest change?

- It started off with adapting the chan game Deeper Dungeons which was basically a certain popular mmo with nothing different about it outside of it being porn along with some possibly unwise options of personal abuse. I first changed it by ditching gnomes for neko which to my mind was a clear upgrade. There even used to be an examine refference in the RAGS version to suggest they’d been in the region of the dungeons before being driven out.

Then it was a gradual process of adding with the occasional subtractions to get it closer to a more Warhammer feeling setting which has always been a major love of mine when I was still doing Whorelock’s in RAGS.

With No Haven it was a case of building on what I’ve done there and expanding upon that with the race lore and assignment descriptions. Biggest was probably when I did the favoured/unfavoured stuff and added a ton of extra backstory to various races to justify the choices made there. 

#Q&A

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

Queer Eye for the Cap Guy - Part 3

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Happy Saturday! I’ve got some more of our favorite Captain on Queer Eye, so enjoy. And I hope you have a lovely rest of your weekend! 

Summary: Tan takes Steve’s wardrobe to task. 

Rating: K+

Warnings: Feels? I mean it’s queer eye so about what you’d expect 

Word Count: 926 

“This is where the magic happens,” Bobby announced as he brought Steve into the loft.

“This is really nice,” Steve complimented somewhat bashfully.

“We like it. Tanny, Steve is here.”

“Coming!”

Tan strode into the room, with a pair of jeans on his arm. Dropping them onto the back of the couch, he hugged and kissed Bobby hello before hugging a somewhat less reluctant Steve.

“Hello, handsome. Did you two have a good morning?”

“Yeah, we did,” Steve piped up.

“Well, I’ve got loads of work to do and so do you, so I will let you two get to it.”

This time Steve initiated the hug.

“Thank you, Bobby.”

“My pleasure.”

Bobby retreated to his desk while Tan gestured for Steve to join him on the couch.

“So, let’s talk about your wardrobe. It seems like your closet is pretty much just workout clothes. The few real outfits I found look like they hadn’t been worn in three or four years.”

“They probably haven’t,” Steve admitted though he sat up a little straighter, hands gripping his thighs nervously.

“Why are you living in workout gear? That can’t make you feel good all the time.”

“It’s comfortable,” Steve shrugged. “I spend most of my time either training or on missions.”

“Right, exactly. So don’t you want to have something that differentiates those other times? Especially now that you’re retiring.”

“I guess. But if I’m retired, what does it matter?”

“Let me ask you this. Who are you dressing for?”

“I don’t really have anyone to dress for,” he admitted.

“Why don’t you dress for yourself?” Tan questioned.

“I thought I was.”

“Do you honestly like how you’ve been dressing?”

“I didn’t think it was so bad. I mean everything fit.”  

“You and I have a very different definitions of fit. Everything in your closet, except for your workout shirts were two sizes too big. You have an amazing body.”

“Courtesy of the serum and some vita-rays,” Steve interjected drily.

“So what?”

“So I didn’t do anything to get this.” He gestured dismissively towards himself.  

“Is that why you’re so intent on hiding it?”

“I don’t know. I guess.”

“No, no. Talk to me. I want to understand,” he soothed as he leaned forward.

Steve sighed deeply before speaking.

“Before the serum, my clothes were always big. They had to be. I was so little and it’s not like I could afford to tailor my clothes. The big clothes helped hide how small I was. And then, after the serum it helped hide how big I was. I went from no one looking at me to everyone ogling me and I suddenly didn’t want to be seen.”

Understanding flashed in Tan’s expression.

“Got it.” He nodded. “That makes complete sense. And I don’t want you to dress in a way that makes you feel like you’re on display. I want you to dress so you feel good. And I want you to dress in something age appropriate.”

“You realize I’m 101 right?” Steve asked with a quirk of an eyebrow. “I don’t see any cardigans in there,” he gestured over his shoulder to the rack of clothing.

Tan was pleased with his playful nature.

“I love a good cardigan. If they fit you nicely, then I’ll be happy to put you in cardigans. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Steve admitted, somewhat surprising them both.  

“I think you need to see what I mean when I talk about proper fit, so let’s try some things on.”

Steve nodded and went into the side room to change into the outfit Tan had handed him.  

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel good. It’s comfortable. Really comfortable,” he smiled as he stepped into the room.

“Good.” Tan flitted around for a moment, adjusting his sleeves and undoing the top button on the shirt.  “Do you see how it’s not overly tight? It shows off your shape without looking like it’s painted on. And the jeans are a slim fit which helps make you look taller.”

“Yeah. I like it. I like it a lot.”

Steve couldn’t hide his delight, despite his best efforts.

“Good. Now let’s see it with this.” He reached for a hanger, stopping to speak before having him put it on. “So one of the pieces in your wardrobe that I loved was your very classic brown leather jacket, which I’m completely okay with you keeping. But I wanted to give you a more modern option as well. So slip this on.”

Tan helped him into the black collarless leather jacket, smoothing down the shoulders.

“You like how you look, don’t you?”

“I do,” he ducked his head and smiled. “Thank you, Tan.”

“You’re welcome. I want you to feel this good every day when you look in the mirror. And I want to see that smile. You’re a great man, and you deserve to see what everyone around you sees.”

Steve scuffed the tip of his boot, still not good with taking genuine compliments.  

“I think that still may take time.”

“That’s okay. As long as you are trying. Let’s try on a few more looks.”

 Tan’s Interview

“Steve clearly has never been comfortable with his looks. And the way he dresses reflects that. He’s using his clothes as a sort of camouflage. And I want him to understand that dressing in baggy clothes doesn’t make you disappear. And I think it really makes him more self-conscious than he’s willing to admit. We’re going to help him be comfortable in his clothes and in his own skin.”

A/N: I hope you all are enjoying this story. I’m loving writing it. Thanks for reading! 

Tag Lists are Open (Please send an ask) 

Queer Eye for the Cap Guy Tag List @a-random-queer-kid @mimisparkle12 @phoenix-whiskey-tears @taliarosej00

Steve/Chris Tag List @isaxhorror @peachykeen3502 @patzammit @wordlesscaptain @coffeebooksandfandom​ @hereisanapplepie @mywinterwolf

Marvel Tag List @hdthdthdt​   @sophiatomlinson23 @misty-panther @supermusicallee @scarlettsoldier @acupofhotlatte @slender--spirit @petitesmate @libbymouse

Permanent Tag List @iamwarrenspeace @jayzayy @bexboo616 @neoqueen306 @santheweird @rowenaravencalw @buckitybarnes @prxttybirdz @sergeantjbuckybarnes @captainsamwlsn @broitsmydick @ailynalonso15 @nyxveracity @queenoftrash97 @walkingtravesty97 @lamia-maizat @memyselfandmaddox @lowkeybuckyb @whiskey2011 @averyrogers83 @lovingpeterparker @buckybarneshairpullingkink @beansparker @coralphantomninja @xxashy999xx @thisismysecrethappyplace @ravennightingaleandavatempus @paintballkid711 @whosmarisaaarw @silverkitten547 @yknott81 @mmmmmmmmmchicken @thefridgeismybestie

#Steve Rogers #Steve gets queer eyed #Cap gets queer eyed #queer eye for the cap guy #Part 3

[cacoughphany]

HEY YALL! It’s Freaky Dream Time cause i woke up an hour early,, it’s a long post, though, so get comfy

so BASICALLY it was one of those recurring dreams, (it only happened once before) but with slight alterations. I’ll won’t be pointing out the differences between the first one and this one though.

Me and my friends (They will be called Celery, Jeans, Lamia, and Nate for namesakes) are in an escape room with a few other teams of 2-5 people, and although focusing on your own team is required, talking to the other teams is neither encouraged, nor discouraged

and it’s supposed to be a sort of sociology study?? about how people react to each other under certain circumstances.

ANYWAYS, each of the teams start off in their own lounge room with hint cards all around, and that runs pretty smoothly

- take note that at this point only Celery, Jeans, Nate, and I are in the dream at this point -

Jeans takes off as the leader of the group (which was expected) and we find all the cards, save for one or two, which we ignored

We move into the next room, which is titled the “Jefferson Room” which is a sort of cafeteria area attached to a large office modeled after Thomas Jefferson’s own office?? But it has basketball cutouts all around both areas. But we come across a puzzle for a hint card we dont have, and

We move back into the lounge room to grab it (it was about a sweater for Bernie Sanders??) But one of the dispensers is broken and there’s hints from other rooms in the pile too. The administrators come to help and tell us not to interact with the new hints while they get a replacement.

Jeans takes out her notepad and writes down all of the new information. I don’t agree and we start arguing.

The administrators aimed for this, and they kidnap Celery while we’re debating if it’s okay to cheat (which is weird because Jeans usually has the moral high ground IRL)

A few minutes after that, they announce that they’ve taken some of our teammates while we were “too busy to notice”, which means that the other teams lost people too. poor Celery, I’d miss her for the rest of the dream.

SO THEN, all the teams are on a moving train (Nate is now female and has a different personality) and we all finally get to meet everyone. Some of the other teams get into an argument about old people and being more willing to sacrifice them for the sake of their team??? idk. but everyone still bonds for the most part.

The train is now an area with a long, wide hall in a U shape. We are at the top left of the hall.

There, it is revealed that everyone has to find the medal with their name on it in order to continue, and are allowed to take other people’s medals too.

Jeans and I’s medals are at the nearest end of the hall, hanging on the ceiling. Although everyone scrambles to get them, we still catch a hold of our own medals.

The other teams have to face their own trials in a Montage where people have to get around an electric maze, dogs trained to kill, and other, much more difficult tasks than we had.

Then, the hall becomes a colorful paradise-y recreational area, and the montage turns surreal when everyone starts making cocktails in desperation, out of whatever colorful gunk they could find, and I just kind of stare around, kinda confused

(it looks like those paint videos where people put a bunch of colors into a cup and pour it onto a canvas, except this time they just straight up chug the paint. It has similar vibes to that one Adult Swim animation,, I think it’s called “Facelift”)

(This ALSO is where Lamia shows up as a part of our team, although it’s treated like she was always there)

The montage slows down into real time where Lamia and I have a conversation, except it’s only simple words, and the grammar is all garbled up. (think “Stuff is Way” by They Might Be Giants) There’s also captions, PHYSICAL CAPTIONS within the dream, to translate whatever’s happening in the conversation.

Everyone had their language abilities effectively ruined, but I was the only one to remember the escape room and the puzzles.

As it turns out, the admins gassed everyone while they were drinking their worries away, and I wasn’t supposed to remember the puzzles, except

As it ACTUALLY ACTUALLY turns out, everyone starting from when I woke up in the train room was an actor (explains why Nate is a completely different person. The only exception is Jeans, who was real until the drinking montage, where she disappeared)

After I found that out, red words in paint started appearing everywhere and the Admins promptly gassed me, and I died.

And then woke up.

#i always wake up early in dreams where i die huh? #im not a great writer so sorry if its not as good as it couldve been #if theres any errors i wrote this right after I got up and only posted it now cause i ran out of time before school #long post #dream #weird dreams

[fantasy-fields-bitty-center]

Your making it hard for me to not adopt right now I swear-

But since I’ve been seeing matchups and things like that- to get myself off the thinking train of adoptions why not have you do one matchup to see what you think is best for me?

I’m the one who adopted the Bara withered Bonnie by the way so hi lol

I’m creative but lazy and easily inspired but also in a way self destructive, I heavy in depressive thoughts but extremely affectionate, I have a LARGE bitty group mostly of the skeleton variety, but this does not exclude others such as human types, animatronic, cross species and more,

I can be snuggly at times but can respect boundaries,

I have adhd and can become easily distracted, I love reading, writing, singing and trying out new things as well

If you can’t tell by how chaotic my list is my mind wanders a lot and I’m often scatter brained and lost, I need help understanding things at times and even have difficulty learning things I’m uninterested by

I fidget a lot, I have problems keeping clean or neat or tidy, I need help a lot and love affection, in conclusion-

What do you think would be a good Bitty(s) for me and my mess lol? 

We do have a lot of bitties, as we have over 100 different types! Definitely makes it hard to choose!

I do apologize but I will be doing this the same way I've done the last few matchups and not describe them, I'm sorry!

-

1.0 Withered Freddy

-

1.0 Puppet

-

Bush(Freshtale Sans Lamia)

-

Doll(Tale Papyrus Neko)

-

Toyger(Fell Papyrus Neko)

-

Holland(Tale Papyrus Usagi)

-

-

Honerable mentions:

1.0 Springtrap

-

Tree Python(Swap Papyrus Lamia)

-

Black Mamba(HorrorTale Sans Lamia)

-

Samar Cobra(FarmFell Papyrus Lamia)

-

Timor(FellSwap Papyrus Lamia)

-

Buoy(HorrorTale Papyrus Spino)

-

-

I have no idea if you want only fnaf bitties or what bitties you don’t want do I'm doing what I think will work best with you and not focusing on what bitty type or difficulty they are!

#bittybones #freddy bitty #puppet bitty #springtrap bitty #bush lamia bitty #doll nekomata bitty #toyger nekomata bitty #holland usagisune bitty #tree python lamia bitty #black mamba lamia bitty #samar cobra lamia bitty #timor lamia bitty #buoy spino bitty

[nailriddenbat]

Operation Henderson and Harrington Pt. 4 ~ Mini-Series

Summary: The kids take it upon themselves to test their matchmaking skills. With a little help, they form a plot to get you and Steve together by Halloween.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x (Henderson!You) Reader

Word Count: 2k (longest part so far, guys)

Warnings: Language! Mostly from Dustin.

A/N: We are almost there, guys. 

Part One ~ Part Two ~ Part Three ~ Part Four ~ Part Five ~ Part Six ~ Part Seven FINALE 

Tags: @vaultvixen @everythingilove-blog @petah-parkah-and-potahtas @holycoldcoffee@thechandlerbingdance @jinx-is-fire @jinx-is-fire @unapologetically-insane@moonlightbae14 @thatcrazyfangirlmaze @eylul222 @eadesa @richletozler@thegirlwhoisintoomanyfandoms @13reasonswhyimcrying @kyliegeatz @itskayleefam@goimaginethiss @tapetayloe @theoraeken9 @greatbarrierwreath @themidnight-train@stressedoutkylo @pugsandkisses14 @a-sinners-ink @captainstilinskis @iamzion-therealhabesha @turqois-e @agirlwholovesfandoms @alwaysoutoftheordinary@totheworldosanime @negroneon @jj-writes-shit @wandering-poetess @la-fille-en-aiguilles @chillionswho @that-karen-dork @juliroseennis @5secondsoflittleharmony @royalwolfhard @pinkobsessedfreak @21hamstreet @lamia-maizat @thebitterbookeater @mybestfriendisnetflix @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aiolii @txnyatbh @somekryptonitewriting @theimaginationcat @sourwolfhalestilinski @everything-intertwined @uncle-jjezzy @jupiter-leo @wefracturedmotivation @aforkintheroad11234 @rem-darling @hufflepuffcommonroomrules 

Phase Four of Operation Henderson and Harrington: Get ready at separate houses.

NEW PHASE FOUR OF OPERATION HENDERSON AND HARRINGTON: KEEP THEM AWAY FROM EACH OTHER!

October 31st was finally here. The hallways were buzzing with excitement as teenagers moved back and forth, discussing all of the plans and whether or not they would be attending Tina’s annual Halloween party. The day had only begun and you already could not wait to just get it over with, as you were feeling extremely anxious over how you would look later on.

You glanced down the hallway, biting your lower lip to see if you could catch a glimpse of Steve at his locker. You never did get the chance to discuss the plans with him and you figured now would be the perfect time. Your eyes roamed the halls a bit, catching him pushing his hand through his hair as he stared into his locker. You took a deep breath and swung your locker shut, holding your books close to your chest as you walked forward to him. “Penny for your thoughts?” you asked him as you leant against the lockers next to his.

He shook his head a bit and looked over at you with a smile. “Just trying to remember what books I need, that’s all,” he explained.

You knew his schedule by heart and reached in to grab his history textbook, pushing it into his chest gently as you said, “Pretty sure you need that.”

He took the book from you and nodded his head slowly as he asked, “Where would I be without you?”

“In the wrong class,” you smirked. “So listen, the other night with Dustin...”

“You mean your little shit of a brother who hung up on me?”

“Yeah,” you laughed nervously as you pushed your hair back. “You mentioned something about tonight.”

Steve nodded his head but before he could speak, your names were being shouted. The hall went silent as everyone looked around, trying to figure out who was shouting so loud, and your eyebrows raised when you saw that it had been Nancy and Jonathan. They rushed over to the two of you quickly as everyone in the hall went back to their own business, asking what it was that you were up to.

“We were just discussing Halloween plans,” Steve explained.

“Oh really? Neat!” Jonathan shouted. “Hey, listen Steve, I just heard that Dustin was outside looking for you.”

“Dustin?” you asked. “Why is he outside? He should be over at school. Is he okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Jonathan nodded his head quickly. “Guy stuff!”

Steve sighed and closed his locker, wondering if it had anything to do with that girl Dustin had been hung up on recently. He walked off without another word, leaving you behind to look between Nancy and Jonathan. You were tapping your fingers against your books, noticing that neither of them would make eye contact with you. 

“So Y/N!” Nancy smiled. “Ready for English?”

You gave them a blank stare, staying quiet for a solid minute.

“Everything okay?” Jonathan asked you with a slight tremble to his voice.

“Just peachy, Jonathan,” you said shortly. 

With that, you turned and walked away. Something was up and you were onto it. That feeling only extended throughout the day. You tried to catch a glimpse of Steve at lunch, only to have Nancy insist that you ate outside as it was such a “beautiful day” meanwhile the sky was grey and the sun was no where to be seen. You couldn’t even get his attention in the hallways because either Nancy was with you, or Jonathan was with Steve.

Unbeknownst to you, and to Steve, Nancy and Jonathan were running themselves into the ground trying to keep you two apart. Ever since Dustin had caught Steve trying to talk to you over the phone, he had made it clear to the entire group that Operation Henderson and Harrington was in mortal danger. It was important that you and Steve be kept apart at all costs or all hope would be lost.

“This is impossible,” Jonathan sighed as you two rested in between classes.

“We have another hour left and then it’s home free,” Nancy tried to be optimistic.

“I am never doing this again. Matchmaking is hard work,” Jonathan groaned as he dropped his head back to the wall.

“Hopefully this works and we won’t have to,” Nancy shrugged her shoulders. The bell rang and the two of them inhaled simultaneously. Back to work they went, separating quickly to catch up with you and Steve and to make sure phase four wasn’t a total bust.

The whole entire day passed and you were not able to get to Steve once. Nancy ran up to you after the day was over and grinned, “Ready to go? I have everything that we need in my bag.”

You sighed as you nodded your head. Steve wasn’t by his locker and you had to make sure you were ready by the time El and Max would be dropped off. You gave Nancy an unenthusiastic thumbs up before the two of you headed to the parking lot.

Phase Five of Operation Henderson and Harrington: Get ready at separate houses.

Once you got home, you found a note on the kitchen table from your Mom that said she had joined up with the other Moms to take pictures of the boys together. You and Nancy moved to your room to begin work immediately. You looked at the clothes as Nancy laid them out on your bed, your stomach twisting. “This is a horrible idea,” you stated.

“This is a good idea,” Nancy disagreed with you quickly. She sat you down on a chair and took a deep breath before moving to stand behind you. “Hair first, make up second. Are you ready?”

“Hell no,” you shook your head quickly.

Nancy ignored you and you shut your eyes as she began to tug on your hair. What the hell did you get yourself into?

Almost three hours had passed. You did not move once. Your butt was beyond sore and you wondered how you hadn’t choked on the amount of hairspray that Nancy had used. Your eyes remained closed as you tried to think of anything but what sort of reaction people, most importantly Steve, would have to you.

“Okay, Y/N,” Nancy whispered. She pulled back, biting down on her lip.

You opened one eye slowly, looking up at her. “Your face does not seem very happy. I look horrible, don’t I? This was such a stupid idea. Nance, I can just shower quickly and wash it all off and then go out. Or even better, I can just help the girls get ready and have Steve pick them up or something!”

You rambled on and on as Nancy walked away to pick up a hand held mirror. You felt like you were about to throw up and you were terrified to even pick up your hands to touch your hair. Nancy shut you up quickly by holding the mirror in front of your face and your eyes went wide.

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed.

Your hair was perfectly curled. Your lips were bright red and your eyes did not have a large amount of make up. It all seemed so...natural but dare you say, sexy, at the same time. Your hands moved up to touch your hair, expecting the curls to come apart but they didn’t. They held and they were bouncy. 

“Now get up and get dressed so I can see how amazing you look,” Nancy smiled down at you.

You jumped up and grabbed the clothes before disappearing into the bathroom. The pants did take a little bit of time to pull up, and you may or may not have had to jump around like a kangaroo to get them on. Leather was not the easiest material to work with. Once the off-the-shoulders shirt was on, you stepped out of the bathroom and looked over at Nancy.

“SANDY!?” Nancy shouted loudly as she quoted the movie. The two of you started to laugh and you turned around to look at your reflection in the mirror. You looked like you were ready to star in the movie and you took a deep breath, smiling widely.

“Nancy I don’t even know what to say,” you shook your head.

Before she could answer, the doorbell rang and Nancy left to go answer it while you stood in front of the mirror. You suddenly felt beyond excited for the night ahead of you and you whispered to yourself, “Look out, Steve Harrington.”

“Holy shit!” 

You turned your head and saw Nancy standing with the two girls, Max being the one who shouted.

“Bitchin’,” El grinned.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you grinned back at her. “Come on, let’s get you girls ready and then we’ll head out!”

“Jonathan should be here soon. Are you okay if I leave?” Nancy asked you as she reached over for her jacket.

“Yes,” you nodded your head and reached over to hug her tightly. “I’m sorry I was such a pain in the ass.”

Nancy couldn’t help but chuckle and rubbed your back, “Maybe next time when I tell you something you’ll just listen.”

“Probably not,” you told her with a smile. “Go have a good time with Jonathan.”

Nancy wished you a fun night as well before she waved goodbye to the two girls. You didn’t catch the wink that the three of them had shared and as Nancy closed your front door, she grinned to herself. Her part of phase five was complete.

Meanwhile at the Wheeler’s house, the boys were gathered up on the lawn. They matched perfectly. Their hair was slicked back, thanks to Steve, and they were all wearing jeans, white shirts, Chuck Taylor high tops, and jackets that read ‘T-Birds’ on it.

Dustin, Mike, Will and Lucas all posed for their Mothers. Dustin was standing still with a wide grin on his face. Mike was rolling his eyes, already tired and growing impatient. Will smiled as he stood beside Mike, moving as they asked him too. Lucas was a superstar, smirking and grinning as he moved back and forth.

Steve was off to the side. As Dustin had said earlier to him, he had perfected Danny Zuko’s signature look. One strand of hair hung in front of his forehead as the rest stayed slicked back. He had his arms crossed over his chest and one cigarette rested on his ear, wearing the same jacket as the boys. He couldn’t help but grin as he watched the four of them standing together. What a cool group of shit heads.

“Steve!”

Steve looked over at Mrs. Sinclair as she called out his name.

“Steve, honey, go stand with the boys!” she pleaded with him. “We need Danny Zuko with the T-Birds!”

“Oh please go and stand with them!” Mrs. Henderson begged.

“No, no,” Steve shook his head as he waved his hand. “This is all for the kids,” he urged them to focus more on the other four.

“Steve Harrington,” Mrs. Wheeler called out to him as she gave him a stern look.

He sighed and moved over to the group, standing together in formation as the women started shouting once more. He posed for a few shots, doing exactly as he was asked.

“Can we just go trick or treating?” Mike pleaded loudly.

“Are you sure you all want to walk around the neighborhood like that?” Erica Sinclair scrunched her nose. She thought her brother and his friends were the biggest dorks of all and moments like this proved her to be correct. 

The four boys instantly turned their heads to Erica and she smirked as they all started to complain. It was too easy to get them riled up.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve clapped his hands together to get their attention. “Leave the kid alone. Come on, grab your bags and let’s go get some candy, alright?”

The boys wandered off to the side to pick up their bags as Steve went over to talk to their Moms.

“This is going to work, guys,” Dustin nodded his head to the others. “We pulled this off!”

“The night isn’t over,” Lucas rolled his eyes. “Anything could happen.”

“I question whether or not I will be able to go a day without you thinking that the worst will happen,” Dustin turned his head to Lucas.

“And I question whether or not I will be able to go a day without you coming up with some stupid plan that we all have to follow,” Lucas shot back. 

Before the two could start bickering, Mike clapped his hands together in a similar fashion to Steve. “Guys, guys!”

The two of them shut up and Will held his bag up to shake it around. “Let’s get some candy and argue later,” he said.

And with that, they were off.

“Alright, shit heads. Let’s do this,” Steve sighed as they began to walk down the block.

Dustin hummed to himself, unable to stop himself from smiling. His end of phase five was complete and soon, the whole entire plan would be complete too.

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington reader #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington you #steve harrington/you #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery reader #joe keery/reader #joe keery x you #joe keery you #joe keery/you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #imagine #fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #steve harrington fluff #joe keery fluff

[maveirn]

“This World Is Forever Changed. And I Do Not Know What Comes Next.”

  An old man sat at his ornate writing desk muttering fiercely as he writes. The room is cast in a multi-colored gloom; a large window above the desk is letting in moonlight that has caught one of the stained-glass windows sending its various colors across the room. The windows depict the old man’s life. Various scenes of battle, prayer, burials, and resurrections. It ends with him preaching in his current sunlight colored robe to a crowd of soldiers, heroes, priests, and commoners.

  The old man suddenly stops writing and sets down his quill, hand shaking, and grasps at his forehead. “No-no-no! Why can’t I write a simple sermon!?” he yells out. There is a bump from the other side of the room, he had spooked Glenda. A young girl, just 8 years old with straight black hair and striking blue eyes, an uncommon concoction. She is dressed in a brown dress with a white breast to symbolize the bird of her station, the sparrow. She sits just beside the door, maybe 100 feet from the old man’s writing desk.

“Would you like me to fetch you some more tea, Your Holiness?”

“No Glenda. I don’t not want more tea.” The words came out much harsher than he intended. He was just tired and wanted some sleep. He could to sleep if he could just write this damned sermon.

“Glenda!”, he was still too angry. He calmed his voice with a deep breath, his temper was always a problem for him. “Come here please.”

“Yes, Your Holiness?” She approached.

“I’m sorry Glenda, for yelling at you. Thank you for staying up with me.”

“Is, something the matter Your Holiness?”

“For tonight, Glenda, I’d like it if you call me Eron.”

  The young girl gripped at her dress, face clearly expressing worry. He had just asked her to disobey one of the first rules she was taught when the Church took her in.

“It’s okay Glenda, it’ll only be for tonight, and I won’t tell anybody in the morning. Okay?”

“Okay … Eron.”

  He smiled. It had been so long since he had heard that name. He turned back to his half-finished sermon. The thing that had kept him up all night; writing and tossing and re-writing and taking breaks and changing topics and writing again. Each time he tried, he just came back around to his uncertainty in seeing Pelor’s grace in his passing. For where would Pelor’s light be, when the Raven Queen took him. His mortality was catching up with his spirit, and he was so tired of trying to outrun it.

“I’ve been very lonely this past decade Glenda. The position of Patriarch is a hollow one, with many expectations on your shoulder. None quite as heavy as Pelor’s himself. And I find myself growing tired.”

“It is quite late, Your- Eron.” Glenda said.

“I’m so tired, I just can’t bring myself to write tomorrow’s sermon. So, I’d like to just talk to you Glenda, let you be my muse.”

“Okay.”

  The young girl crossed the room and approached Eron in his chair. Eron rolled it out and kneeled down slowly. His knees and back burned ferociously, it reminded him of his time fighting Fire Giants. He pondered which pain was worse, which burn hurt the most. He took the prayer beads from his neck and held them in his hands, then gave them to Glenda and moved her hands into prayer.

“I carved these myself, the night before I first left home. I had never gone much farther than the surrounding grasslands where I hunted with my father, ….” Eron tried and failed to remember his father’s name. Names were so hard to remember at this age. “I was so excited I couldn’t sleep. Everything was new to me back then, and my training wasn’t enough. I learned everything on the road. Traveling, and failing to protect those who protected me. It’s very hard to bury a man who you could’ve saved, Glenda.”

  Her eyes were confused and scared. Eron knew that look too well. He had seen it in many young men, and goblins, and orcs. Fear. Fear of the unknown. He wondered, if he was wearing that look right now.

“If you truly want to grow Glenda. You will have to leave the Plauti, and travel, and learn the hard way. It will be scary, but you must do it Glenda. You cannot bring the Good Word to those you don’t understand. Travel, and understand them.” Eron waited for a response.

  Glenda nodded. Eron patted her hands, and then folded his hands in prayer over hers. He began to recite an ancient passage from the Book of Pelor. Glenda rushed to kneel properly, she took a shaky breath as she began reciting the passage with him. They continued for the moment, Eron happened to choose a passage that spoke of Pelor’s all accepting light. How He accepts all who decides to follow Him, no matter how fervent or blasphemous they may be. As long as they believe.

  After praying far beyond Glenda’s own memorization, Eron continued the grand prayer alone. She did her best to stifle yawns and focus on what His Holiness was saying, but it was so hard. She had been up for so long, waiting on His Holiness while he wrote and relieved himself throughout the night. Old people needed to pee a lot, she thought. Then His Holinesses hands grew cold, and his voice began to quiet. He continued to pray though, so she dared not to open her eyes, to do so would be a grave sin. Then his voice, expanded. It grew suddenly in volume and strength, greater than she had ever heard before, greater than any of his sermons!

“The scales tip, sparrow, and the God’s grow fearful! I see a land with a pure white sky marred with terrible crimson clouds! The black earth is salted with colored suns; yellow, blue, white, red, large and small my child, my children, you need to prepare yourself for what is to come. A time of upheaval! A time of devastation! A war for the future of the world itself and I have no guarantee of who or what will win! I see wizards tearing planes apart. Arcane bleeding into the divine as devils and fiends feed and the God’s themselves walk upon the Material! Not fully the past nor fully the future, sparrow, merely what is-has-will become! I see scales, sparrow, scales that will determine what is to be. I – I – The God’s are screaming! The scales have tipped sparrow, and the God’s wail in anguish. Pelor’s mercy let this not be true…”

  Glenda opened her eyes and looked upon His Holiness. His eyes were pure white, marred with crimson, it looked like they were filling with blood. His skin had turned an otherworldly black, filled with colored dots that seemed to float within him. He looked like what he was describing, the Celestial Plane: The Place the God’s Dwelt. She looked on with terror, his voice was magnificent and powerful but quiet and full of fear.

   Eron didn’t know what was happening to himself, he was simultaneously on the Celestial Plane and on the Material. He was praying with Glenda, and also screaming with the God’s at the tipped scales. The figures surrounding him, were, alien. Amorphous shapes and colors that gave him feelings and ideas. Nothing more than intensely powerful auras that embodied their particular domain. Lustful love from one, the shape resembled to him his old flame and love from his old adventuring party; Maris. Another, the first sensation of Eron driving his mace into an orc’s skull. That feeling of elation, sickness, and victory. Of flesh and bone relinquishing its shape to his physical might, that incredible rush. All of them together was all too much for Eron, he did his best to find Pelor but couldn’t. The presence of all the Gods overwhelmed him. And he realized this was his end, that Pelor wanted him to know what had happened. That He wanted Glenda to know.

“Dear sparrow, Dear Glenda. I love you dearly. I don’t know what needs to be done, I don’t know what is going to happen, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be there for you sparrow. You’ll do great things.”

  With his final effort of life in the Material Plane, Eron moved his hands of prayer, and hers, against Glenda’s head. He had her feel everything he had, all the anguish at the tipping of the Scales. Seeing the unfettered forms of the Gods themselves, Glenda understood so little of them so much less than Eron did. And with that, Eron: Hero of Lamia, Member of The Fleet Foxes Adventuring Party, Former Commander of the Second Army of the Holy Vanguard of Rumia, Adjudicator of the Council of Rumia, Founder of the Holy State of Rumia, Patriarch of the Church of Pelor, His Holiness Under All the Sun Touches, and Son of a forgotten farmer, passed into the cold embrace of the Raven Queen. Never to speak another word; whether comforting, or harsh.

 <-*->

  Glenda cried there for quite a while, she had just witnessed and experienced so much. She cried for a while, and then she realized that she had to report the death of His Holiness. She staggered her way into the Roost and went to the first door of the only person she could trust.

She knocked, “His Eminence Jay Robertus.” No response. She knocked again.

“Yes sparrow, what is it?” a tired voice responded from inside the room.

“I need to tell you something.” Glenda was doing all she could to keep composure, she was the First Responder and as such had certain responsibilities to uphold. She had a duty to do. The door opened and before her stood Jay Robertus. A man in middle age who, unlike Eron, had spent most of his time within the Church studying. He was overweight and balding on top, and despite his annoyance at being woken up in the middle of the night, he put on a smile for Glenda.

“What is going on Glenda? Is everything alright?”

  Glenda took a moment to compose herself, tears threatened her every time she tried to make sound. She did her best to remember the exact words that she had to say, she had to do this. She had to.

“I, Sparrow of the First Dorm of Platui - Glenda Maltrue report – hereby repor- tell- inform- …” she choked up and stumbled over the words. She couldn’t remember what to say. And the tears flowed. She quietly sobbed there in the Jay’s doorway.

“Oh Glenda … c’mere sparrow. There – there. It’s alright. You’ve been through a lot.” Robertus could safely assume what had happened, His Holiness was getting very old and his health was rapidly deteriorating. It was within reason to believe that one late night of sermon writing would finally push him over the edge, he never really knew when to stop. It’s what made him who he was.

“Sparrow. Look at my eyes, okay?” Glenda raised her eyes to meet Robertus’, he noted that they looked different somehow. As if there were flecks of red in the whites of her eye.

“Take me to his body. I’ll be the First Responder.” Robertus knew that by being the First Responder he was sacrificing his chances at politicking and raising above the status of Jay, but protecting Glenda was far more important. Glenda silently told Robertus that His Holiness had died in his study.

“You had fallen asleep waiting on His Holiness, okay Glenda, and I awoke you while roaming late at night. I found him first – okay.” Robertus insisted. Glenda nodded in response. He patted her on the shoulder and brought her into an embrace. He sent her to bed and turned back into his room. He shed his simple bedclothes and donned his official Jay outfit. A sky-blue robe with gold trim and a large, yet thin, holy symbol of Pelor. A Sun emitting golden rays. Finally, a white sash with golden embroidery and a yellow sun at either end. He walked to His Holinesses study and marked the details needed to respond.

  By the time that Robertus had gotten to His Holinesses study, Eron’s celestial form had faded with his soul. Now he was simply a broken old man, who had finally met his match. Robertus had entered the faith because of His Holiness, his tactical mind served the faith well both on the battlefield, fighting for Rumia’s existence, and in chambers of philosophy and rule, fighting for the morals of the Church to be upheld in the laws. The legends of his humble origins as the son of a father in some unnamed township, rising to prominence through his time as an adventurer with the peak being a battle with a squad of Fire Giants threatening a mountain monastery.  He was the perfect example of a devout follower of Pelor, and his giant-sized legends transitioned well into converting others to the faith. Some even touted him as being the man who single handedly brought Rumia into being, however untrue it was. Robertus was filled with sadness.

  He closed His Holiness’ eyes and left to find Sun Reader Gianni and begin the process of setting His Holiness to rest, and naming a new Patriarch. As Robertus walked down the hallways of The Centrum, guided by his Light spell, he had a thought similar to Eron’s just an hour before.

“This World Is Forever Changed. And I Do Not Know What Comes Next.”

#fiction #amatuer writing #first draft #critique welcome #dnd

[floosies]

bury a friend: The Story of Noctua

pairing: steve rogers x possessed!oc x mcu!au

summary: there have been sightings of a dark creature who vanishes with night and in the mornings only remains of once living people are found scattered in open fields or forests nearby.

warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of attempted suicide, violence, gore, cursing, mentions/scenes of sexual nature.

Please read with discretion. 18+ content.

A/N: This is my first attempt at something more dark. It’s been in my brain since hearing some of biilie’s works and quiet frankly I want to venture into new territory. However, I understand the severity of some topics that I will write about. If you or someone you know is in need please look at these resources.

tags: @indecisivedolly​

Part 3: The Seven Wonders (1 of 2)

She had been to the outskirts of New York only twice in her life. Once to dispose of a carcass and the other time for a ceremony in the northern woods during a winter. However, both times she’d traveled to the past for those events. She had not been to present day New York. Nor was she interested in doing so, but having no say as she currently sat on the rather large plane, she awaited to see what had become of it. 

The trip was seemingly quiet except for the abrupt and quick mentions of trajectory and location. The three heroes looked rather stiff and awkward, Noctua was not used to this. She could read their minds, but opted not to out of respect for their privacy. Instead she chose to break their odd silence, “what preferred names would you like me to call you?” 

Her soft voice caught their attention immediately, Wanda smiled at the fellow sorceress, “Wanda is fine. Thank you.” The younger lamia nodded, giving a soft smile to the woman sat in front of her. Steve spoke more rigidly, but with the same warmth. “Steve is fine as well.” He then went back to his seat besides the pilot. Bucky saw her starring at him waiting for him to speak. He didn’t though and she just assumed he was still afraid of her. So be it, at least he knew to fear her if all went down in flames.

A cold morning mist covered the compound when they arrived. Steve was about to apologize about the weather when he noticed she was no longer in the dress and crown. She was wearing more modern clothing. He had no clue how she came to possessing them though. Nevertheless, she looked presentable enough.

There were large windows that let light in easily and everything was white. It was so clinical, “this is the training area. The living areas are much warmer, I promise.” She must have shown discomfort, “of course. Where we headed to now?” She asked softly to Steve, “we are going to my office. I will take your information down, and then show you to your sleeping quarters.” Tenebrae had been quietly watching over its daughter. It knew they meant no harm, but she was fragile from lack of contact with others who were not like her.

It thought back to the early years when its daughter’s soul was guarded by dark clouds of depression and fear. She was a hollow shell of who she was now. If Tenebrae had not intervened she would have lost more than just her life. Her purpose was great and there was it knew that. It was why she was being allowed to congregate with these enhanced beings.

Wanda and James had excused themselves as they neared Steve’s office. There were other matters to attend to, but she was promised a dinner with the other hero tenants of the compound. It was something she looked forward to, as she’d never met others with inhuman abilities. For now she sat down next to a machine, there was a wire stuck onto her with some taping. Steve looked upset, “it’s protocol. We have to assure ourselves you aren’t lying about anything. If you do, it will send a small current of electricity through the body.” She had a look of disgust on her face at the explanation, “I promise this is usually meant for criminals, not to say you are a criminal.” Shaking her head she dismissed his behavior. 

He reminded her of a baby bear, or puppy. Steve was the kind of soul that wished to be both emotionally and physically strong, but was incapable of such assertiveness. She did not frown upon it, she sympathized with beings of those characteristics. Nevertheless, the interrogation began and with it small shocks that began to distress her. She was not lying to him, there were just some truths she preferred to see through her own light. Like her given name Noctua, originally she was called Ruth Plutarch, but that name was associated with cruel memories the young witch wished to forget.

Steve explained that information regard physical abilities and appearance would be saved for the next day. “Why wait though?” She asked with an impatience, he answered coolly, “we have to prepare a training room for your skills. We can’t afford to wreck a room.” She nodded understanding that he was not wrong about her powers potency. 

When the information portion was done for the day, he led her to the sleeping quarters of the compound. There were long halls with two or three doors on each side. “Each room has its own full bathroom and walk in closet, Tony. He designed this area for comfort really.” She nodded along as they reached the last door of left turn hallway. “This is where I’ll be staying?” He nodded twisting the knob to the room. It was simple, nothing too extravagant, the room was a modern take. 

The bed was the part for her, she hadn’t sat on such a soft material since she traveled to the Edwardian age and roomed with a lord and his wife. It was wonderful to have small comforts of those sorts, “uhh...listen. There’s going to be a small dinner tonight with those who are staying here, or not on missions. I’d like you to be there,” Steve looked concerned. She wasn’t cruel though, “of course. How will I get to the dining room?” He was about to say he’d come get her but FRIDAY interrupted him, “Ms. Plutarch, I would happy to assist you with that.” Amusement and confusion clouded Noctua for a moment, “is this like tenebrae?” Steve quickly shook his head, “no. FRIDAY is an artificial intelligence system, that Tony created to help around the compound and Stark Industries.” 

She nodded, but Steve wasn’t sure if she truly understood. She knew that because she caved in for a second and read his mind. “Steve, I have traveled to both past and future, I know this type of technology exists. Please stop worrying so much,” that made a small smile appear on him. It warmed her heart, “okay then. Feel free to ask FRIDAY for anything or if you want ask her to reach me and I’ll come help.” She agreed to his suggestion and then left her room. Now there was silence. It was the kind that comes when awaits for what is next, with an indefinite understanding of what to do til that moment comes.

A bath seemed like the right thing to do. It was a lovely feeling to clean up and dowse oneself off of impurities. She sensed it’s presence, “why interrupt my cleansing?” She teased, it laughed. “How are you liking these abnormal creatures?” Shrugging, she answered it while playing with the foam of soap that formed into large looking cloud in the water, “they’re fine. The shock therapy was awful though. Steve meant no harm though, he was practically fighting himself mentally.” Tenebrae listened intently to it’s daughter’s opinions on the odd heroes of the mortal world.

After their talk and her bath, she indulged herself in terrible television programs.  She did not remember how she ended up asleep, but she was currently interacting in a dream. James or Bucky, or whatever his chosen name is was standing beside her, his hand on hip. Why did it all seem so familiar, as if it’s already happened? The dream was distorted by the voice of the artificial system awakening her. Quickly she changed her appearance to something more suiting.

it was modern and not too formal, it would do. The walk to the dining hall was filled with talk from the program. She nodded along, but was more focused on who she’d meet. The dining room was oddly dark in color. It felt so rigid, it didn’t feel like a place of meal or congregation. The people there were acting otherwise, laughter and conversation was buzzing, it’s then when Sam noticed her. “New girl, welcome.” She smiled at his witty introduction. Steve stood up then, “Noctua. This is Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Peter Parker, you remember Wanda and Bucky?” She nodded as she shook their hands and waved at the last two.

The dinner began warmly with introductions to each person. She found herself intrigued with Peter, he reminded her of who she was when she was his age. His kindness and curiosity towards life, it was sweet. However, she could feel the burn of James’ gaze on her. He was not impressed, so she tried to read his mind only to be met by his inner voice, “get out of my head.” His voice was cold and hollow even if it wasn’t actually him speaking. 

Towards the end of the meal, they began asking questions. Steve was mesmerized and Bucky hated it, “c’mon what was your favorite time period?” Sam prodded, as everyone but James listened intently. She giggled, “well. The 1700s were interesting, but really it would be the 1960s or 70s, I know many people from that time.” He rolled his eyes, Parker noticed and called him out on, “don’t be like that Mr. Barnes, i’m sure you would’ve had fun in the sixties and seventies too.” Bucky glared at the boy. “There’s no need to be upset, he was just making a comment.” She defended the boy, everyone else murmured agreements with her, it just made him more upset. In an attempt to continuing his brooding, he rose from his seat and left. The rest of the table apologized for his behavior, but she waved it off. 

Whatever the dream was, and whatever it felt like, it was wrong. That familiar warmth was not at all who that man was. Maybe it was meant for a different version of her. One with a different version of who that man was supposed to be. If he was going to despise her, so be it. He would still have to respect her, and she would make sure of that.

#sorceress #Scarlet Witch #bucky barnes #witch #oc!female #Steve Rogers #sam wilson #peter parker #tom holland #chris evans #sebastian stan #tony stark #robert downey jr #marvel #mcuedit #mcu #may the fourth be with you #bury a friend

[allitalksfandom]

Happy very belated holidays, Dame!

I had you for Jugdral Holiday Exchange, and I apologize for the delay! I used two prompts: ShananxPatty post-war and Ayra and Shanan on the run. I’ve actually always wanted to write a bit about Ayra and Shanan fleeing Isaach. I suppose that princesses escaping their invaded countries is my fanfic thing now. Once again, I’m sorry for the delay, and happy holidays! @jugdralholidaygifts @damoselcastel

Warning: This fic contains discussions of trauma. Though I have never had to flee my homeland, I have done my best to treat Ayra and Shanan’s experiences respectfully. In addition, all references to people from Isaach and Verdane as “barbarians” or other imperialist notions should not be interpreted as the views of the author.

           Shanan’s hand traces the patterns on the castle’s walls as he walks.

           It’s been twenty years.

           He had been able to dismiss his guards, but Ulster and Larcei still follow behind him.

           “I can’t believe Grannvale hasn’t completely ruined the place,” says Ulster.

           “Only because they needed somewhere to live while they starved everyone in Isaach,” Larcei says, sniffing. Shanan recalls that Danan’s two younger sons had pursued her, and while they did not personally commit atrocities, they had been complicit in them.

           Yes, Seliph and the rest of their allies at the time had conquered the castle after Prince Johan was killed. Mana, Dimna, Radney, and Roddelvan had worked with the local people to ensure that the castle did not fall to Grannvale again.

           Shanan hadn’t been there when his homeland was freed.

           He’s not sure if it was worse to flee Isaach or to live in his fatherland as fugitive.

           “There you are, handsome!” Patty turns a corner in front of him.

           He wasn’t expecting to see his wife of all people while he soaked in his memories. “How did you find us, Patty?”

           “What sort of thief would I be if I couldn’t easily explore a castle?” She grins. “Sorry, former thief. Reformed and all that. I suppose this stuff is mine too, right?”

           “Larcei and I do have some claim to Isaach,” Ulster observes. “Our father was a Chalphy knight, but he was the younger son of a count. Our inheritance from him is meager at best. And you also inherited your father’s lands in Sophara, right?”

           Larcei scowls playfully at her brother. “When did you become so greedy?”

           “I’m just making a point!”            Shanan steps between the two. His cousins tease each other often, but time and time again friendly debates would become quarrels. “That’s enough, you two.”

           Larcei turns to look at him. “You don’t have to scold us like we’re children, Shanan.”

           He sighs. “Why don’t the two of you go on ahead? Your mother’s favorite place to nap was in a courtyard not that far ahead of us.”

           The twins bid them farewell, leaving Shanan with Patty. She stares at him thoughtfully.

           “What is it, Patty?”

           “I was wondering if part of the reason you married me is because my father was from Sophara. I’m sure that’s good for your rule, right?”

           This is the last sort of conversation I could picture myself having with her. “It certainly doesn’t hurt that you father hailed from Isaach, Patty, but that’s not why I married you.”

           She bats her eyes at him. “Oh? Then why did you marry me then, my king?”

           Shanan groans. “Patty…”            She laughs. “You’re so easy to tease sometimes.”

+++++++++

           “Try to sleep, Shanan.” Her nephew is like a garment torn from its stiches. She expects that she doesn’t look much better.

           They are hidden underneath a blanket in a cart. Maricle had commissioned a group of his most trusted retainers to spirit away the pair to the northwestern edge of the mountains.

           From there, it is up to her to find a way to keep Shanan safe.

           She was only five years old when Shanan was born, and since her sister-in-law had died in childbirth, she had taken it upon herself at an early age to be aunt, sister, and mother in one. Their nurses would gossip while she sat on the floor with Shanan, his babbling like music to her ears. When he was older, she would take him to watch Maricle train. She would race around the castle with him on her back, avoiding the servants who would beg her to “please stay still for just a moment, Princess!”

           “I wonder if I could still do it…” She smiles at the thought.

           “Do what?”

           “Carry you on my back…” She realizes how silly she sounds as she speaks.

           “I’m much too big for that, Auntie.”

           “You’re not nearly as tall as you think you are, Shanan.”

           He sticks his tongue out at her and closes his eyes.

           When the retainers leave them, what will become of them? She might need to carry Shanan after all. If he were to get hurt, could she?

           What would be worse, dying in the wilderness or to Grannvale?

           She moves closer to him. She doubts she’ll sleep tonight.

+++++++++

           Patty slips down to the training yards to find Larcei easily besting a recruit for Isaach’s army. A small crowd of recruits circles the dueling pair, cheering her and jeering at her opponent.

           “I almost feel sorry for the bastard. Almost.” Radney leans against the fence surrounding the courtyard. Roddelvan had told her that his sister had difficulties trusting men. Indeed, the Isaachian woman had begun to recruit women for a separate division of Isaach’s armed forces. Patty thought at first that Radney’s feelings toward men were the reason why she and Mana were lovers, but she doesn’t think that that’s the case any longer. Mana didn’t hate men, for one thing.

           Patty chuckles.

Radney turns around and starts. “Oh, Your Majesty! I would have held my tongue had I known you would visit the yards.”

Patty smiles. “It’s all good, Radney. I actually was looking for Mana.”

“She’s praying over by that tree to the right, Your Majesty. We just had midday meal.”

“Bet you that Larcei’s opponent will lose his meal before she’s done with him.” Patty holds her hands up in a pacifying manner when she sees the look on the other woman’s face. “I said that in jest, Radney.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Right.”

Not far away from them, Larcei’s opponent yields to her. The previously quiet crowd erupts into cheers and jeers.

Mana saves Patty and Radney from the awkward situation by walking up to them, a basket in tow. “Good afternoon, Your Majesty.” She curtsies to Patty and kisses Radney on the cheek.

Radney grumbles something about kissing her in front of everyone and blushes.

“I suppose both of you might be able to help me,” says Patty. “Given that you know a lot about love and things like that.”

“No one knows a lot about love, Your Majesty,” says Mana kindly.

“You know what I mean.”

Larcei ambles over to them but stays on the other side of the fence. “What has my cousin done that’s concerning you, Patty?”

“It’s what he hasn’t done. I…I’m not sure if he loves me.”

Her companions glance around.

Larcei turns to the crowd still in the courtyard. “That’s it for now!” Ignoring the protests of men eager to prove themselves against her, she climbs over the fence. “Let’s go somewhere a tad more private, shall we?”

They end up returning to the tree where Mana and Radney had eaten. Mana spreads out a blanket on the ground, and the quartet sits down.

“Why do you not believe that His Majesty loves you?” Mana’s eyes are bright.

Patty suddenly feels foolish. “Well, he never really tells me that he does. And, honestly, he’s not particularly lustful, so that isn’t the reason why he married me.” She stops when she sees Mana’s blush. “Oh, please, it’s no different than you and Radney. Anyway, if he didn’t marry me for political reasons or because he wanted me in his bed, then why did he ask me to marry him?”

“My cousin has been withdrawn for as long as I can remember,” says Larcei. “From what Sir Oifaye has told Ulster and I, he was a bit more sociable as a child, though. The question is why he’s the way he is.”

“His Majesty is the person he is because of what he’s experienced,” says Radney.

Patty plays with her braid. “But personality has something to do with it as well, right?”

“That’s true, but think about it: It’s possible that you’d have the same personality if you were raised in Jungby or Sophara, but would you have been a thief?” Larcei reties her left boot into a lopsided bow.

“But does that mean that he’ll always be like this?”

“The best thing to do, Your Majesty, is to talk to him,” says Mana. “You might be surprised at how much that can help. Or perhaps you can try to help him in some way with a task.”

Patty thanks them. They didn’t give me the answer I wanted, but at least it’s something.

+++++++++

Travel is slow. June finds Ayra and Shanan in Silesse’s capital. In a way, Ayra is glad that they did not reach this country until May. She can’t imagine trekking through blizzards with Shanan.

Shanan, who is refusing to eat.

“I hate this food. Why don’t they try growing potatoes, at least? If I have to eat another bite of reindeer meat, Ayra, I’ll die!”

“You won’t die, Shanan,” she says half-heartedly. “Would you rather it be rabbit?”

He shudders. “Gods no!” He takes his meal without complaint.

She smiles weakly. To feed Shanan, Ayra has worked as a guard for merchants. They tell her that they’ll give her passage to Agustria if she escorts them to Sailane.

They don’t mind that she’s a woman, at least. In fact, the other guards are women as well. The leader of the guards is named Lamia.

When she met her, the woman looked her up and down as though sizing her up for a butcher. Ayra stared ahead, unblinking, until she nodded, satisfied.

As long as Ayra can keep Shanan safe, and their identities secret, they’ll be fine.

After dinner, the caravan does not travel for long before they are stopped by a small group of Pegasus knights.

“Mind if we inspect your goods?”

The head merchant assents, so Ayra takes Shanan off to the side of the crowd. There’s no need to draw attention to themselves, after all.

Unfortunately, two knights must have seen them. They’re off to the side, whispering.

“Isaach…That woman…The boy…”

Ayra’s vision blurs. She grabs Shanan roughly by the arm. If they can slip away into the trees…

Someone taps her on the soldier. She whirls around. It’s one of the two knights.

She instinctively moves for her sword when the young woman raises her arms in surrender.

“I’m sorry for startling you! I just was concerned about the boy traveling with you. He’s an orphan?”

Ayra blinks. Of all the things… “Yes.”

The green-haired knight smiles. “I thought so! He’s too young to be a mercenary, after all.”

Shanan fidgets in her grip. “Ayra…”

This woman is strange. “I’m his aunt.”

The stranger folds her arms behind her back. “Oh, wow! He’s lucky to have you, then.”

While Ayra tries to process the Silesian woman’s thought pattern, her companion appears beside her. “Who’s this, Melina?”

“I didn’t get her name, Danielle. But oh, tell her your Pegasus’ name!”

“My Pegasus is named Isaach! I’m guessing that’s where you’re from, judging by your accent…”

“Your Pegasus is named Isaach?” Ayra breathes for what feels like the first time in years. She lets go of Shanan’s arm.

“And mine is named Chalphy,” says Melina. “All of the Pegasi born in the capital’s stables that year were named after places in Jugdral.”

“I see.” While she’s relieved, Ayra turns to Shanan. How is he coping?

Well enough, it seems. “Why did you want to know if I’m an orphan?”

Melina shuffles her feet. “I’m an orphan too, you see. And if you didn’t have a place to go, Silesse’s orphanages are actually very nice. The nurses are kind, and we had plenty of toys.”

“Well, he has me, so he doesn’t need to go to an orphanage,” Ayra says brusquely.

“Yes, it’s wonderful you have a nephew!” The knight doesn’t pick up on what Ayra is saying. “You’re so lucky to get to travel with him.”

“Melina and I love children,” says Danielle. “And since we’re best friends, we’re hoping that we can have our children grow up together.”

“Or maybe I’ll adopt,” says Melina, giggling. “Maybe I’ll have a woman as a lover.”

“Do you really think Lady Erin of the Angelic Knights would fancy you, Melina?”

“Don’t be so mean, Danielle!”

Ayra shares a look with Shanan. She never made a point to befriend other women. She would talk for hours with a boy she knew from Sophara when she was younger, but she had Maricle and Shanan. She didn’t need any other friends.

It might have been nice to have had some, though.

The knights’ leader calls for them.

“Oh, looks like we have to leave.” Melina frowns.

“It was great to meet the two of you,” says Danielle. “If the two of you are ever in Silesse, be sure to stop by the barracks and see us!”

“Sure thing,” Shanan says cautiously.

That night, Ayra says a prayer of thanks to Crusader Ord. She’s never been that religious, but she’s well-aware that their lives were in strangers’ hands.

+++++++++

           Meetings are mentally exhausting.

           Grannvale may have united the kingdoms of Isaach into a country-sized kingdom, but each former kingship had its own laws and customs. A former official in Ganeishire had a quarrel with a nearby village regarding grazing rights. Under Danan’s reign, Isaach itself had also suffered. Those given administrative duties didn’t know the land or how to care for it, the consequences of overgrazing or of planting crops in the same field for too many years in a row.

           It’s a wonder we didn’t all starve.

           One small comfort is that he has only to respond to a letter from King Ced of Silesse before he can finish for the day. The sage hopes to import foodstuffs, as Silesse’s population has increased after the war.

           Isaach’s has too, for that matter.

           He wonders idly if he and Patty will have a child soon. Their child would mainly be cared for by a nurse, of course, but he would still have to be a guiding force in his heir’s life.

           Shanan isn’t sure if the buzzing in his ears is excitement or anxiety at the thought.

           He blinks and finishes his reply to Ced. It feels odd to use the royal seal on his letters. The Balmung suits him better than the other tools of ruling do.

           “I will take the letter to the king’s messenger,” he tells Sean, the servant attending his study. He welcomes the chance to escape his desk. “Where is he?”

           “The King of Silesse sent a Pegasus knight, Your Majesty. She is waiting in the antechamber to this floor’s right wing.”

           When Shanan enters the room where she stands waiting, he feels as though he’s been buffeted by Forseti’s winds.

           She bows to him. “It has been a long time, Your Majesty.”

           His mind scrambles to remember her name. “Lady Melina?”

           The woman smiles. “You remember? I must say, that’s a pleasant surprise, Your Majesty.”

           He stares at her. “I am glad to see that you are well.”

           She understands the meaning behind his words. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Danielle is well, too. Actually, her daughter fought in Thracia with King Leif.”

           Shanan did not have the chance to speak extensively with the comrades-in-arms of Seliph’s cousin, but he did know that Pegasus knights served alongside him. “Is that so? I’m sure that she is very proud.”

           “She is, Your Majesty. Everyone in Silesse who has survived Grannvale’s hold on the continent is proud of our courageous young people. I only wish that the late queen…” She pauses. “Well, you have no desire to hear about that. But it was wonderful to see you again, Your Majesty.”

           “Likewise.”

           When she leaves, Shanan props himself against the wall for support.

           His memory of the day they met overpowers him.

           “Shanan, listen. If need be, I’ll distract them, but we must leave. Run if you have to-”

           “But Ayra-”

           “Your Majesty?” A maid looks at him with concern.

           “Don’t be troubled.” He stares at his hands. They are shaking. “Let Sean know that I am retiring to my chambers.”

+++++++++

           They were so close to freedom.

           Upon hearing of Grannvale’s looming invasion of Verdane, Ayra and Shanan have taken refuge in a village near Evans. She had thought Shanan would be safe to pick up food at the market while she stopped at the blacksmith.

           Why isn’t anyone helping him?! The marketgoers avert their eyes from the scene and continue their business in low voices.

           The man restraining Shanan is muscular and wears an axe at his side, but this is not uncommon in Verdane. The number of men attending him, however, is.

           “This brat is yours, I take it?” The man’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

           Keep my voice firm and my hand on my sword. “Let him go. We have no quarrel with you or your men.”

           He laughs hoarsely. “Now, is that any way to talk to your ally?”

           “Ally?”

           Shanan’s eyes shine with worry.

           The man beckons her closer.

           Seeing no choice in the matter, she does as he asked.

           He lowers his voice so that only Ayra, Shanan, and his men can hear. “After all, Princess, we’re both barbarian royalty.”

           Her knees buckle, but she grits her teeth. “What sum do you require for our freedom?”

           He tightens his hold on Shanan. “And why would I let a skilled swordswoman go free? Verdane is at war with Grannvale. I think the two of us can be friends, perhaps.”

           Her stomach hollow, she looks at Shanan, not the prince. “For Shanan, I will be your sword.” Until the day comes that I slice the smirk off of your face.

+++++++++

           Patty finds Shanan in their bedroom staring out the window.

           “Shanan?” She closes the door behind her.

           He starts but doesn’t turn around.

           A memory comes to her.

           Little Alannah was shaking.

           “Is she ill, Febail?” Patty lowered her voice to a whisper.

            “I don’t think so, but something’s wrong! Where’s Sister Maeve?”

           “She went out with some of the children to forage. It’s just us right now.”

           He swore under his breath, mindful of the dozen or so children in the room with them.

           “I’ll take the kids out to play a game.”

           “Good idea-”

           Alannah whimpered.

           “What’s going on, Patty?” Eir grabbed Patty’s leg.

           Patty picked up the girl and laughed. “Let’s play hide-and-seek. I’ll try to find you all, okay?”

           “What about Alannah?” Brian’s brows crinkled in worry.

           “She’ll join us next round. I’m counting to one hundred, but stick to just outside the orphanage, okay?”

           “Is the barn okay?” Garvan stood on the tips of his toes and looked at her.

           “Well, now I’ll know that you’re there! But yes.”

           The children ran off, screeching and laughing.

           Patty turned to Febail.

           “All right, Alannah, take a deep breath and count to ten.”

           “Shanan, can you do something for me? I need you to breathe and count to ten.”

           His silent count seems to take an eternity.

           “Can we sit down on the bed?”

           “Not now, Patty-”

           “That’s not what I meant. Just do it. When I sit next to you, I’m going to grab your hand, okay?”

           Still in a daze, her husband sits. She joins him and takes his hand. “What do you feel?”

           “Your hand,” he says dully. “The blanket.”

           “What do you hear?”

           He is silent for a moment. “Your breathing. Mine, too.”

           They sit for a minute or a day or a year.

           He breaks the silence. “Your aunt, Aideen…She would do something similar when one of us had nightmares in Tirnanog.”

           Patty sits up straighter. “Really? Wow. I learned it from Febail. I wonder if my mom knew it, too.” She casts a sidelong glance at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

           “I thought about when my aunt and I were on the run from Grannvale.” His voice is flat.

           “I’ve never seen this happen to you before, Shanan.”

           “It may sound strange, but I was…better during the war.”

           “But you’re in Isaach now. Your country’s free.”

           “That doesn’t mean I can forget, Patty. I haven’t lived in this castle since I was a boy. My memories of this place will always be tainted by the memory of fleeing it with Ayra. There’s no simple explanation for whatever is happening, or has happened, to me.”

           “Well, you can talk to me about it instead of trying to ignore it!”

           Shanan lets go of her hand and moves away from her, his gaze icy.

           “Sorry,” she says softly. “What I mean is…My childhood wasn’t easy, either. But if anyone can understand what you’re experiencing, if you’re going to lay your troubles on someone, I wanted to be me. Because I love you, so I’m not going anywhere.”

           His gaze softens. He takes her hand again.

           She keeps talking. “I want to help you somehow. We never get to talk because you’re so busy, and you don’t sleep enough. I’m a former thief, but I know a lot about money and what goods are worth. I heard the servants gossiping that you had a messenger from Silesse visit about trade, so I can help you with a treaty. And the next time you have to deal with a problem at Sophara, I’m your gal-” She stops when she sees the expression on his face. “What is it?”

           “Thank you, Patty.”

           Her heart skips a beat. He didn’t say what I wanted him to say, but he said it all the same. She grins. Shanan loves me! “I’m going to hug you now.”

           “That’s fine by me.”

           She doesn’t think she’ll ever want to let go.

+++++++++

           Nearly a year has passed since they talked about Shanan’s childhood.

           Patty’s slow-moving these days, but she walks with the pride afforded to a queen and the mother of the country’s future ruler.

           Whistling, she walks by the training yards. The crowd in the courtyard is bigger and more boisterous than ever.

           Radney is sitting on a bench and looking at the crowd with longing. She sits on a bench, the youngest of the children she and Mana have adopted asleep on her lap. “Why couldn’t you have gone to sleep an hour ago, huh?”

           “What’s going on, Radney?”

           “Your Majesty, there’s a swordswoman I’ve never seen before fighting Princess Larcei. Unfortunately, Quinn decided that she wanted to sleep now.” She sighs.

           “Well, I can’t wait for mine! I wonder who my child will will look like. Shanan is so handsome, but I’m cute, so-”

           A voice rings out from the crowd. “It’s a draw!”

           Radney’s jaw drops. “What kind of person can go toe-to-toe with Princess Larcei and hold their own? Ugh, and Quinn’s waking up.”

           Patty has been trying to learn as much as she can about babies. She knows that the look on Quinn’s face means that she needs food now or else.

           Radney quickly grabs a canteen of goat’s milk.

           Quinn takes it happily.

           Radney looks at Patty. “I can see what’s going on, Your Majesty, if you’d like.”

           “I’d appreciate it. I’ll take Quinn.”

           Radney smiles with gratitude and runs off.

           Quinn fits nicely in the crook of Patty’s arm. Soon enough, little one, there’ll be an even cuter baby around the castle.

           The crowd has dispersed by the time Radney returns with Larcei and the stranger. The unknown swordswoman wears leather armor and a red tunic atop a green shift. Her white pants are stained with the dirt of the training grounds.

           “You must be Queen Patty,” she says, bowing. “It’s my honor to meet you. I am Mareeta, daughter of Eyvel of Fiana.”

#Alli Originals #Shanan #Patty #Ayra #FE4 #Alli's Fanfiction #damoselcastel