#;;Tales from the River ((Drabble))

[alvfr]

hey I saw you're open to requests and I'm so obsessed with your "Accidents" series with Hotch x Reader! I totally get you're taking a break from it atm so feel free to ignore but I'd love a drabble or whatever you're comfortable writing/sharing from the series? Maybe like a snapshot of when they were still figuring things out before they crossed that line or became established.

Thanks so much!

A/N: Aah, it's been so long since I've written for Hotch so I hope I managed something at least. I really tried to keep this short-ish and more of a drabble, but yeah, this would be set after the shower-scene in "Elevators" but before the bonus-part, I guess. Not super exciting maybe, but good practice for me. cw: none? sfw. awkward phone call. fem bau!reader, no use of y/n, part of "accidents" wc: 1.3k

Call me maybe

The first time Hotch called you was around eight in the evening, the day after your team got back from the conference in Florida. While you could not say you had been expecting it — a pessimistic part of you always expected the worst case scenario — your body told a different tale. Every inch of you had buzzed with anticipation since you stepped foot in your own apartment. Making sure to keep your phone charged and unmuted for a change, going as far as keeping it within sight when taking a shower and still checking it religiously every few minutes in case you had missed something. 

You argued with yourself, scolding yourself for waiting around like a lovesick schoolgirl and then berating yourself for doubting his word in the first place. He had said he would call and Hotch did not lie so why were you getting so worked up? 

When the day dragged on, without even paperwork to distract yourself with, you spiraled into increasingly worse scenarios as to why he had not called. He had been called into work, he had lost his phone, he had forgot his charger, he was discovered he was under surveillance by some shady government officials. Or something had happened to him, or to someone he cared about, or something had happened to both him and someone he cared about. Or, and this was simultaneously the best and worst one, he had changed his mind.

So when the call came that night, you had worked yourself into a bit of a frenzy and jumped at the sound of your own ring tone. The display glowed with the name 'A. Hotchner' and you forgot all about basic human behavior, like blinking or even breathing. 

It rang three times before your body bypassed your meddlesome mind and you picked up with the standard greeting of your last name, just in case he was under surveillance somehow. A theory that gained traction with every loaded second where you could not hear anything from the other side.

“Hotch?” you asked and held the phone out to check if the call was still active. In your state, you would not have been all that surprised to find if you had hallucinated the whole thing. “You there?”

“Yes.” The smooth sound of his voice sent rivers of idyll into your veins while your heart threatened to pound out of your skull. “Sorry. Hi.”

A stupid grin overtook your face and you twirled the still-connected charger cable with your fingers before catching yourself. Dropping the cable, you cleared both your throat and face. “Hi.” 

“Hi. Sorry, is this a bad time?”

“No, it’s good.” 

You tried to avoid looking at the mess of your apartment, all chores neglected for the day in case you wound up missing his call. In truth, you’d drop everything in a heartbeat and come over if he asked, although you had no idea where he lived. 

“I mean, I can talk?” You winced at how you had managed to phrase it as a question and cleared your throat again. “What’s up?”

And the award for worst conversationalist goes to this girl right here, you thought with a hefty roll of your eyes. What’s up? What were you, fourteen years old and trying to impress your friend’s older brother?

“Not much,” Hotch admitted from his side of the line and you thought you could detect a hint of gratitude in there. “Just finished up some overdue paperwork.”

“San Joaquin county?” you guessed, knowing without a doubt how much paperwork that case still generated. 

“Parts of it, yes. There’s also the budgets, protocols and various administration memos I’m forced to have an opinion on.” A slight pause and you caught a slight intake of breath on his side. “I didn’t call to talk about work.”

You forced yourself to keep your breaths slow and controlled instead of shivering as you knew they’d be. “Okay.”

“How are you?” The tenderness in his voice wreaked havoc with your inner organs and you could imagine his expression. The tilt to his eyebrows that matched the tilt of his jaw where he looked up, resting his eyes on whatever was near the ceiling to the left of him. “You get home okay?”

“Safe and sound. You?”

“All in one piece.” 

A silence stretched on for an uncomfortable few heartbeats and you wracked your brain for something worthwhile to say. It was uncharted territory to talk to him casually like this. No time crunch forcing you to keep the small talk to a minimum and no risk of getting caught forcing you to speak in code. Neither did your forte lay in phone calls and, as the profiler you were, you wished you could have had his facial expressions and mannerisms to reveal more of his thoughts during the conversation. The same probably went for him, you realized and it made you breathe a little easier.

“What did you think of the conference?” he asked just as you were about to say something completely different.

“Uh…” Your brain did a full reboot to no avail. “Are you asking about the actual conference or—”

“The actual conference,” he clarified and you thought you could hear the smile in his voice. “Did you catch the mass-shooting response training?”

“I did and it was okay, I guess, even if it felt a little dated.” You wandered around in your apartment, needing to get rid of the built-up excess energy. “Doesn’t this count as work talk though?”

“You’re right. Sorry, I’m,” you heard something brushing against the microphone, maybe him dragging a hand over his forehead, “not very good at this. I, uh, wanted to call to reiterate that I fully understand if you’ve changed your mind about this.”

“I haven’t.”

The words came out faster than you had anticipated, some part of you determined to deny him any possibility of doubt. 

“I’m really glad you called, Hotch.” You did a few test-runs at yourself in the mirror and corrected yourself to: “Aaron.”

“Good. I’ve been working up the nerve to do so for the past hour.”

Again, you could imagine his expression. The slight secretive smile, his head now tilted downward, exposing more of his neck to the room.

“Well, I’ve been waiting for it since I got home last night.” You tried to match his unabashed honesty, the need to convince him that you wanted this still present. “If that makes you feel any better.”

“A little,” he murmured and you could almost feel how he settled in wherever he was, maybe lounging back against the couch or chair, getting comfortable and the phone scratched again as he shifted it around. “What kind of movies do you like?”

The question blindsided you and you blinked at your own reflection in the mirror. “Uh, I’m omnivorous really. Why?”

“I’m looking through the show times for Friday night. I was hoping you would like to go see a movie with me, if we don’t get a case.”

“Oh.” Your stupid grin returned tenfold and you absentmindedly twirled the charging cable again. “Well, then I really like the movie that is playing this Friday night.”

In the end, you settled for a title and time, both of which would be rescheduled over and over again because of a case getting in the way. It took you a month to go see a movie together, but it did not really matter. By then, you had talked on the phone every night you were off a case (and sometimes he called you from a hotel room that were just a few doors down the hall from yours to say good night when you were on a case.) A torturous slow pace, maybe, but well worth it in your opinion.

-----

Thank you for the request!

If you want to read the rest of the series, it is on AO3 here (E-rated)

Let me know if you liked it, thank you for reading ❤️

[obsessedwhyyes]

After some Astarion fanfiction from a rusty fanfic writer from the old Tumblr days with a penchant for excessively flowery language? I might have something for you!

If you're new here, I recommend starting with The Scientific Method for smut, The Fool for some feels, or A Tale of Fools and Tricksters if you fancy a fully fleshed out story!

To join the tag list, click here!

The Scientific Method Series A mini Astarion x Inexperienced Reader series, cataloguing the important moments in their growing relationship. Rating: Explicit Summary: Inexperienced in the ways of love, you often find yourself labelled an overthinker. But then again, you are a scientist. When your incredibly beautiful travelling companion proposes a night you'll never forget, suddenly you're left wondering, are you really ready for this? Ever the scientist, you propose an experiment, and get more than you bargained for. Part 1: A Sound Hypothesis Tumblr / AO3 Part 2: An Empirical Study Tumblr / AO3 Part 3: Unexpected Variables (T rating, non-explicit) In progress! Series Masterlist on the way...

A Tale of Fools and Tricksters Mystic circus AU longfic, featuring Ringmaster Astarion. Some horror elements. Rating: Varies by chapter (we'll say M to be safe) Summary: The Festival of Fools - a carnival of magic and illusions which shall set your heart ablaze and bring your dreams to life. Legends say that the Festival of Fools will grant one wish to those pure of heart and soul - for a price. Seeking a cure for the Curse of Stone which plagues her people, Elysia Thorne seeks the aid of the festival's enigmatic ringmaster, Astarion Ancunin, whose charm is as dangerous as it is irresistible. But as their fates intertwine, it becomes clear that all is not as it seems... Series Masterlist Here!

Darling Drabbles A series of Astarion shorts. Rating: Various Summary: From bite night to cuddles - this is just a random assortment of passages that don't have a real home, so they sit in this little drabble collection instead! Blood-Bound Rapture (What it feels like to be bitten by Astarion) Tumblr / AO3 The Fool (Astarion reflects on his feelings for you, angst) Tumblr / AO3 Touch (Handholding, pure fluff) In progress!

One-Shots

Beneath the Blood and Starlight Pure fluff. Rating: T Summary: Awoken from a nightmare, you seek a moment of reprieve down by the river, only to find your mysterious vampire companion - covered in blood. As you help him with his mess, you realise that perhaps there's more to this rakish, teasing façade: a vulnerability you hadn't expected. Tumblr / AO3

Chasing Lightning Shameless smut. Spanking fic. Not my finest moment. Rating: Explicit Summary: You've spent all day teasing, tempting, taunting - you've really tested Astarion's patience this time. But pushing his boundaries is your favourite past time. Now, here you are, over his knee, about to receive the punishment you longed for, all according to your devious plan. Not that you'd ever admit it, of course. Tumblr / AO3

The Learned Observer A voyeurism fic request. Gale first person POV. Rating: Explicit Summary: On a sleepless night, Gale notices the distinct sound of hushed voices outside his tent. It couldn't be you and Astarion… could it? When he decides to take a peek - to satisfy his scholarly curiosity, of course - he gets more than he bargained for. Tumblr / AO3

Bending Steel My first M/M, featuring a hulking barbarian OC. Rating: Explicit Summary: There is only one strength that Darius has ever known: brute force; unrelenting power. But Astarion - he challenges everything he's ever known. When a sparring match unearths some complicated feelings, Darius discovers that sometimes letting go can be an invigorating experience... and a pleasurable one, too. In progress!

Prompt Lists Fangs, Wit and Charm - An Astarion Quote Prompt List Velvet and Vice - An Astarion Quote Prompt List for Smut Writers

[domoz]

drabble trade with @doveywovy with the prompts "mermaids" and "sharing body heat"

The air hangs still and quiet in the way it only does in the morning after it's just snowed.

Probably, Izuna should be thankful for the unseasonable turn in the weather. The cold has driven witnesses indoors and the usually deadly fauna of the swamp he travels through into hiding. He's never liked weather like this, though. The sharpness of the chill makes his jaw ache, and he finds himself paranoid that somehow his own breath will give him away.

Ice has formed a crust on the sides of his little boat and more forms on his oar every time he lifts it from the water. Soon enough he's going to have to stop and scrape it off, before it makes it awkward to navigate. But he’s hesitant when even the gentle drift of the boat sounds too loud in the silence.

There are rivers and lakes in water country, but not widespread enough to make learning to hide beneath them particularly worth it. Even this swamp is probably only two meters deep in most places -- the canopy of the trees above are so thick that they would make a better hiding spot for nearly anyone looking to ambush him.

That's why he's unprepared for the boat to suddenly be pulled out from underneath him. With the whip-crack speed of a predator springing on its prey, two thick arms hook under his shoulders and pull him backwards. He doesn't fall into the water, but into flesh -- slick and freezing cold.  He tries to pull away, instinctively kicks backwards, but whatever his foot meets is a single solid mass, and all he gets for struggling is flipped onto his back, face forced into the rough wood and freezing cold water that's sloshed over the sides. Even his legs aren't left free as something thick and muscled wraps around them.

Whatever it is that's on top of him isn't human -- but it also isn't trying to kill him, or else it could have done so by now. Instead, one arm -- pale white and scaly when Izuna cranes his neck to see it -- moves to wrap around both of his arms while the other moves to start tearing open his clothes. Icy-cold claws rake down his skin and start going through his pockets, tossing knives and coins and food pills all around the deck of the boat and over the side.

 The thing’s grip has become weaker in the meantime, and Izuna uses the chance to free his right elbow backwards -- it earns him more weight pressed down on him, not less, and an angry hiss.

"What kind of useless human doesn't carry matches?" A deep, accented voice growls out above him, "Or even a flint?"

The only thing that keeps Izuna from responding with 'the kind that can spit fire' is the fact that he can't follow it up with a fireball right in this thing’s face. Which means he has a moment to realize that this thing can speak, and if it can understand him then he has another way to worm his way out of this.

"The warm kind." He answers, as understanding about what's happening clicks into place, "The kind that might help you if you let him up and ask nicely."

He punctuates his point by taking as deep a breath as he can manage in his position and warming it with his chakra as he lets it back out. It turns the air around them into warm steam before it drifts away, and Izuna can feel the muscles wrapped around him clench as the thing hunches over as though trying to capture the heat.

There is a long moment of hesitation, then a sigh through clenched teeth. Weight shifts off of his chest, enough for him to push himself up and turn around, though his legs are still trapped under the bulk of -- yes that's a fish tail.

The creature that's caught him is something out of a peasant fairy tale. Mermaid -- or man, as it were -- the sort of creature that people say lures men to death with its beauty. Izuna supposes he can see where they're coming from -- the physique of the top half is almost improbably perfect -- though the effect is lessened both by the fact that the thing has just mugged him and that he's clearly miserable. The man’s hair and eyelashes are as white as the rest of him but they sparkle with ice, and now that his arms aren't down Izuna's clothes they're crossed over his chest in a hopeless bid to preserve warmth.

"I'll only need you to stay until the cold front is gone." The merman informs him, mouth not quite forming correctly around the words. "Then you can carry on as you please."

Which could be days or even weeks -- plenty of time to find an escape. Or, Izuna blows out another warm breath and stops himself from smirking as the merman can't stop himself from leaning into it, plenty of time to make a new friend.

[mithrilhearts]

Maeve's 4k Follower Event

Battle of the Plot Bunnies

2024 has been a great year of finishing up fics for me, so it's time to unveil some new ones! I'm so excited to be able to do this, and have you guys help me essentially decide which fic gets tossed into the actual WIP pile next! Which is to say, THANK YOU for your continued support!

There are eight plot bunnies I've plucked from my Ideas list that I'm interested in developing further. Some of them have drabbles already, some have a little outlining attached, and some have barely even a working title.

Each fic will have a small summary and some bullets of information attached to it so you get an idea of what the plot/concept is!

✨ Feel free to ask me about any of those fic ideas for more information if you like! I will provide what I can!

First Round

Battle of the "Modern" ideas

Battle of the "Erebor Never Fell" ideas

Battle of the "Based on another story" ideas

Battle of the "Maeve's Choice" ideas

Semifinals

Battle of the "Cottagecore vs Dragons" Themes

Battle of the "Soulmate vs Time Travel" Tropes

Finals

Battle of the "Cottagecore vs Time Travel" Ideas

‼️Fic Summaries/Information below!‼️ All information below is subject to change as the fics develop

Modern AUs

Courtesy Call - Rated Explicit

While trying to make a most courteous call to pull his RSVP from his cousin's birthday party versus not showing at all, a misdial directs him to a particularly spicy line that's all about receiving a good time with oneself. The man on the other end is both baffled and challenged by a sudden new caller to his private line, but takes the challenge with everything his voice can provide. - Outdated Ficlet

Sweeter Than Honey - Rated Teen+

Bilbo Baggins runs a successful honey farm on the west side of the Brandywine River. His peaceful days of honey handicraft grow tense as a new logging company, owned by one Thror Oakes, draws closer to his land. It’s how he meets Thorin, a lumberjack living under the thumb of his grandfather, the owner. They should have been adversaries - the two are on opposite sides of nature, but as it is so often said: opposites attract. - Outdated Ficlet - Basic Information/Ideas via ask game

Based On Another Story

No Place Like Home - Rated Teen+

Smaug the Terrible was destined to be slain by a hero in king's armor. To prevent such a fate to pass, Smaug, an enchanter of great power, invaded the kingdoms of Erebor, Dale, and the Greenwood, stripping its citizens of their memories, and taking the throne. Banishing the three kings in an attempt to secure his safety, Smaug took the best part of each king, making them more vulnerable than ever. No one was smart enough, nor brave enough, or had enough heart to stand in his way. Until a most unlikely creature tumbles in. - Influenced by Alice in Wonderland & The Wizard of Oz - Basic Information/Ideas via ask game

Forged in Dragonfire - Rated Teen+

Durin the Deathless is a legend to every dwarf that knows the tale. A king, a dragonslayer, and one who possessed great power to do so. The blood of the dragonslayer was to pass from firstborn to firstborn, but as the war calmed, such rumors fell to myth, and those myths became lost with time, even as Smaug sought retaliation some generations later. A retaliation that was deadly, just as it was successful. Erebor had finally fallen. After many years of hardship, a wizard shows himself in Ered Luin, seeking the only dwarf who might be able to rekindle a little dragonfire in his blood to take down one of the world's deadliest creatures. One who is hellbent on claiming every kingdom in Middle Earth beneath his claws. - Influenced by Skyrim - Basic Information/Ideas via ask game

Erebor Never Fell

Heartstones - Rated Teen+

It’s believed that dwarves are blessed in one of two ways: by their heartstone, or their heartcraft, both a calling of the soul. When Thorin is convinced he has neither, a quest for his happiness takes him far beyond the Misty Mountains to the West. It’s in the West that Frerin is convinced they’ll find Thorin’s calling. Be that a happiness of the heart or the craft. - Outdated Ficlet - Basic Information/Ideas via ask game

Thief of Hearts - Rated Mature

Bilbo retired from his life of gentle burglary years ago to care for his ailing mother. With Belladonna's illness getting worse, he seeks out the aid of an enchanter, who is said to give people anything they want in exchange for a little task. Bilbo's task is to burgle one little stone from one lonely mountain under the nose of its king. Lucky for him, Erebor is preparing to host a grand party in hopes of finding a spouse for the oldest prince. It's the perfect distraction, and no one will see him coming.

Maeve's Choice

Twice In A Lifetime - Rated Mature

Just days before the siege on the Dimrill Gate, Thorin voices his guilt about his inability to keep his people safe when Smaug took the mountain. In the middle of an angry prayer to Mahal himself, the ringing of an anvil is the last thing Thorin remembers before waking up within the rolling green hills of the Shire. It’s there he’s greeted by a set of hazels he’d never forget. Not in this lifetime. - Outdated Ficlet

Wretched & Divine - Rated Explicit

After the battle, Bilbo continued to keep the Arkenstone close to his chest to protect those around him. He suspects that there’s more to this ‘Dragon Sickness’ than just the gold, and must figure out how he can save Thorin from his madness. All of this while trying to deal with the dwarf’s fascination with him with an intensity that rivals the obsession of finding the Arkenstone. Or: What if Bilbo had never given away the Arkenstone to Bard and Thranduil, and Thorin never kicked the gold sickness. - Outdated Ficlet

[thekingbiscuit]

More than three people seemed to like the half drabble from my notes last time (insane but also thanks!) so here I shall give another.

It's a creature au where a loner mer legend finds a half dead bottled fae and reluctantly makes friends in his desperation to help the little guy out.

It's written like an outline and I don't have it I'm my soul to write a full on fic so consider this free and open source. (I'll also reblog with what I wrote about my creature headcannons so check that if it's confusing)

Legend is swimming around lazily in the sun, trying to get away from it all.

He's half asleep when a bottle knocks against him.

He's pretty far off and nothing should be able to get in or out of this water. But he decides it's not his problem.

He likes the bottle, and he's a bit of a hoarder, so he takes it. Back in his den he opens it to find a dead looking fairy.

He has no clue what to do, but feels kinda bad so he rests him on a ledge.

He covers it with a soft cloth, hoping it would die peacefully, but it clutches at his fingers, a gesture legend takes as wanting to live.

Legend is secretive but also a little lonely, so he decides to take on the task.

He flunders for a couple days. A first it's too hot, so he cools it with water, but then it suddenly starts to shiver, so he puts him in the sun under some blankets, that makes him get some kind of seizure. All the while he's accidentally getting attached.

It takes three days for the annoying human to come looking for him. It's warriors and he brought some fish. He's really after his flame rod for a bonfire.

Legend is stressed as it is and tries to get the intruder to leave, but wars finds out anyway.

Legend shields him protectively, but wars insists that the fae will die at this rate. Out of options, he accepts help.

Wars suggests time, who supposedly grew up with fae, but leg can't get that far into the island and is unwilling. He tells him to help him himself or don't help at all.

Wars does what he can, he's having a hard time with such a small patient. They have a breakthrough when his breathing is steady and he's no longer fitful, but he is still definitely going to die without any food.

Legend gives in and they go visit four, unfortunately that means including war's charge wind. Four has a forge near a river that legend is able to get near to, but he cannot go all the way. Wars leaves his scarf with legend as insurance and goes with the fae to get help.

Legend is beside himself despite himself and it shows so clearly that sky tries to cheer him up. Leg bites at him though. Sky says he wishes he'd hang out with them more, and he'd love to help him with whatever, but he needs to talk to them.

Sky flies off, and the trio returns with the patient. Legend tolerates four and vice versa, so four agrees to be a live in nurse in exchange for some sea minerals for his forge.

Legend is appalled at the idea of more people in his sea cave, but wars insists that the fae needs better care, so he agrees. Four moves in.

The fae child improves rapidly with someone his size to feed and look after him. He even wakes up one night. Legend alone talks to him, he's not very present, but he says he's lost and gives him his name. Leg is against it, but hyrule doesn't understand why, and learns that the fae boy is probably an orphan.

During Hyrule's recovery wild finds them, begging four for a new sword. He's mostly uninterested in the fairy. Four doesn't want to leave so soon, but hyrule is ok with it and legend is more than happy, like a liar.

Wild makes a meal for legend and crew as an apology for taking four away. Wars explains that wild is the only soul on the island who can cook a decent meal, and will constantly use this to bribe for his own way. It works too.

Legend has to coax hyrule into eating, and then learns that he enjoys watching his new little friend thrive.

Hyrule gets better on tall tales from Wind's seemingly imaginary time as a pirate and war's time in the army. Legend never knew the islanders had actual lives like that. Hyrule asks him about his own past.

He doesn't tell them all his trauma, but just that he was accused of kidnapping his own sister, the princess and was banished away. This was his second time washing up on an island.

Finally Hyrule tells his own story, he's a rare type of male great fairy nymph, with royal blood that can be used for premium dark magic, so he was being milked for his blood. He tells the story in an extremely innocent way.

His bottle fell out of a window, and he was at sea for a very long time. He thanks legend for all his help.

Later, hyrule worries about his wings. He's been trapped all his life and never learned to fly. Legend does not hesitate to enlist sky for help this time. Hyrule caught on quickly and they make a day of it, legend leaps as high up as he can to try to catch the airborne creatures.

The avian invites legend to a campfire. Legend hasn't been to one before, he avoids them, but this time he agrees. Hyrule is excited about the food. Sky warns him to introduce Hyrule to twilight first so there won't be any problems.

Legend does try, but hyrule falls into a panic attack at the scent of dark magic, and they learn that he isn't completely ok. Twilight is a little put off, but respects their space.

Time just pushes himself in at that point, wondering why he hasn't gotten to see the new islander yet. Time adores fae and is very good to hyrule, making legend jealous.

He leaves Hyrule in time's care to go hunt. When he returns hyrule tries to tell him about time teaching him that all dark magic isn't evil, and that he gave him something to show him, but legend brushes him off.

They're at sea when hyrule brings up the bonfire again, legend asks if he's sure, and hyrule isn't afraid of twili magic, only dark. He wants to show him the item time gave him, but legend has no time to react to the twili crystal and suddenly he's a drowning rabbit in the ocean.

Legend resigns himself to death, but the entire chain joins a rescue mission. Now legend is the sick one. He wants a moon pearl so he can grovel in his misfortune in his cave, but nobody will let him, in fact they take advantage of his situation and show him around the land bits of the island.

When he does turn back, he's just a dude with pink hair. He's forced to admit that he's cursed with legs if he gets beached, but he has to drown on air before it kicks in so he doesn't. The rabbit thing is a different curse. He's just really cursed.

They convince him to stay human just for the bonfire.

Finally they get to see what the bonfire thing is all about, and it's really just a good time with food and friends. Legend almost can't believe it deep down. Yet here it is.

[blarrghe]

The Hunter, the Snake, and the Fox

Rating: M | Category: M/M | Words: 15493 | Chapters 7/28

AO3 LINK

Summary: 

When Magister Dorian Pavus' expedition meets unexpectedly with a clan of unhappy Dalish elves, First Taren Lavellan may be the unhappiest among them. Unhappier still to be put to the task of helping to see his quest through. This is the tale of how a fortnight in the forests of the Free Marches can change everything.

Chapter 7: Mythal's Tears

Snippet:

The day was uncommonly hot, with the sun rising high into a clear sky and then proceeding to simply steam them up beneath the damp canopy of leaves. In the morning a great swath of fog had risen from the river they still followed, swallowing the path, but the First had taken his lead undaunted. Men and horses plodded along until it cleared. 

Dorian was sweating. He couldn’t fathom how to dress for this Maker-forsaken land and its ever shifting weather. The mornings were cool but sticky with damp, then heat climbed throughout the day, and sweat gathered and pinched into everything as the exertion of riding and marching and lugging packs across branches and rocks mounted. Yet as soon as the sun dipped under trees the temperature would plummet, until Dorian could see his own breath in front of him. He slept wrapped in blankets and shivering in his tent, the ice-cold tip of his nose poking uncomfortably into chill air, and woke damp and sticky with roots digging into his back. Weeks into this woodland trek, and he felt no more accustomed to it than he had when they'd first set out.

Felix, he reminded himself, the mantra gaining steady rhythm in his mind, it would all be worth it for Felix. 

DAFF List: @warpedlegacy @rakshadow @rosella-writes @effelants @bluewren @breninarthur@ar-lath-ma-cully @dreadfutures@ir0n-angel @inquisimer @crackinglamb @theluckywizard @nirikeehan @oxygenforthewicked @exalted-dawn-drabbles @melisusthewee @agentkatie @delicatefade @leggywillow @about2dance

[hannahhook7744]

For the prompts post, here's a few options, you can choose which one.

23: "This was a spectacularly bad plan." (For the Hannah Hook Universe

1: "Do what you have to do." (For A Twist in Their Tales)

17: "A little help would be nice." (For the Invisible Truth.)

Drabble/story 1:

Trigger Warnings: Mention of Death, curses, and threatens of murder. Could also be seen as child abuse.

"This was a spectacularly bad plan" Luke said pained, leaning against part of the Galley after they returned from a witch's cave.

Paler than usual.

Hannah just sighed from the barrel she was sitting on. More exhausted than she had thought was possible due to the chain of events.

Wondering how she was supposed to explain this to the others without getting one of her best friends killed.

Because while yes, it was technically Luke's fault that she'd been cursed to die in five years if she didn't do something 'unselfish' (by the witch's standard) since he did decide to wander into a random cave and pick up a random golden comb she didn't want him to die over what she thought was an overreaction on some crazy old witch's part.

Because honestly?

Who cursed a sixteen year old over a brush?

"Well, it's not like I could just stand there and let you get cursed to die over a brush when you have a girlfriend."

"And taking the blame for the whole incident yourself was better?" The Red head asked in disbelief. "You know Skia and the others are gonna kill me for this, right?"

The pirate captain rolled her eyes.

"No they aren't."

"Ordering them not to isn't gonna stop them this time, Bam Bam."

"No but me lying about the situation is."

"You what—ing about the what now?!"

"I don't like how surprised you look right now—"

"Are you nuts—"

"It's insulting that you've known me this long and still have to ask that—"

"Oh is it really—"

"Wait. Since you, River, and Skia were literally stuck sharing the same mind as me for eleven years does that mean that if I was crazy, you three would be crazy too?" Hannah asked, suddenly cutting him off with a crazed wide eyed look.

"..."

"..."

"Fuck. Now I need an answer to that shit!"

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

Drabble/story 2:

Trigger Warnings: Attempted murder, curses, child in danger, past character death/murder implied, survivor's guilt, etc.

"Do what you have to do." 

That was the last thing Evie remembered telling Henry before they split up the night before to brainstorm a way to break the curse.

She knew they must have talked about other things before that. She did. 

They had to have. After all, she had just revealed to him that she remembered who she really was now. That she remembered life before the curse their mother cast and that she wasn’t the only one in town who did.

But she just couldn’t remember what they had talked about anymore.

Because she knew none of it mattered now—because her brother was dying now and it was her and her mother’s fault.

Her’s for telling him that. 

And their mother’s for trying to poison Emma when she knew Henry had a habit of running off to see her and doing the opposite of what he was told. 

He was dying. 

Because of whatever was in that apple turnover. 

He was dying and god, he hadn’t even turned eleven yet. 

And it was all her fault. 

Just like it was her fault that Harry was gone and that all her friends were cursed. 

What had she done?

What had she been thinking?

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

Drabble/story 3:

Alma stared. 

And stared.

And the rest of the family stared with her. 

None of them quite sure whether or not what they were seeing was real.

"A little help would be nice." Bruno said awkwardly, a toddler in one arm and a baby in the other. 

A little red toddler covered in rats clinging to one of his legs anxiously and a grumpy boy with black hair who couldn’t been any older than four or five on thr other.

A teenager and two boys not much younger behind him—arms full of pugs and bags and one boy even had a frog in his pocket. 

It was quite the sight. 

“BRUNO PEDRO MADRIGAL BOTERO, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?”

Bruno winced. 

‘Maybe disappearing for a second time without a note less than a decade after I returned wasn’t the brightest idea….’

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

Hope you enjoyed!

Consider this part of your birthday gift.

Also I may or may not build on these later.

In case you didn't know:

'The Marvelous Misadventures of Hannah Hook and Co' is a descendants oc story verse featuring Captain Hook's adoptive daughter, Captain Hannah Artemis Hook and (her crew) the Stormbringer Crew.

It delves into the chaotic story of their lives and their adventures.

'A Twist in their tales' is a Once Upon A Time and Descendants fandom fusion-crossover of mine where the descendants kids are born in the world of once upon a time instead and their stories are different than we know.

Evie is Regina Mills (aka the Once Upon A Time version of the Evil Queen) and Henry Mills is her younger adoptive brother.

'The Invisible Truth' is an Encanto and Disney Descendants fandom fusion-crossover where Bruno Madrigal adopts the children of Judge Frollo and Governor Ratcliffe.

Featuring Claudine Frollo, Rick Ratcliffe, their oc siblings, and the oc next gen of the Madrigals.

All of which can be found on my AO3 which has the same name as my account on here.

[anisaanisa]

Kagome’s time between worlds. Drabble collection for @inukag-week 2023 ☆ Chapter 7/7 – Smile: Kagome comes home. Tags: The One with the Chapter/Episode Retelling Word Count: 700 (Heptadrabble) 《 Previous〡Next 》 A/N below the cut ☆

Kagome’s fingers slipped away, and with her last leap of faith came her final wish – that she’d look like her mother when she was older.

Her heart crept up her throat while her stomach stayed behind. Time cushioned her fall, bathed her in shimmering light and slowly, gravity returned. Stone and packed earth became corporeal again, and Kagome was left standing at the bottom of the bone-eaters well, five-hundred years in the past.

She grinned and looked up. The climb was tough, that much she remembered, and she positioned her feet to pull herself up and leave the world she’d been born into behind.

One year for every day spent inside the jewel was long enough to know that while her prospects were bright, she felt enormously bleak, and her family knew, from the lack of what comes next. They’d flowed around her like a stone in a river, hoping the passage of time would dislodge her; she could be polished like her lacquer but still preferred the remnants of dirt under her nails.

There would be no right time. There was only time, and what she chose to do with it.

She’d wanted both, so asked for neither and accepted where she’d been assigned to; where fear of the unknown kept her hostage. She lathered and rinsed, but Kagome was stuck on repeat, taunted by dreams of choosing the wrong path, and she should've known where she belonged when she sought where life had taken them, and couldn’t bear to know if she wasn’t there to witness it.

The thought that Inuyasha might not be there occurred, but she crushed it as assuredly as she climbed because they were cut from the same cloth, and she knew he’d stubbornly rebuild the village Naraku had so callously destroyed. It was impossible to know what waited for her, but she raced towards it like it was the only finish line worth crossing.

Too much went unsaid, and she’d be damned if she didn’t get the chance to tell him.

He’d taught her so much. That she didn’t have to smile just to please others, to trust her intuition. That she was powerful enough to fight anything coming her way. To stand up for those who couldn’t do it for themselves. What true strength and kindness is.

That sometimes, choosing your heart – human, demon or otherwise – was the most courageous path a person could take.

Was it so selfish to want to see a man like that again?

That question, she decided, was only hers to determine, and she wasn’t afraid of the answer anymore.

Slippery vines aided and hindered her ascent, and her legs started to shake the closer she came to cerulean skies. A hand appeared in front of her face, and her eyes crossed. Calloused, claw-tipped fingers flexed, she grabbed on, and in a blink, she was hauled from its mouth to come face to face with the man she needed to see again.

"Inuyasha! I’m so sorry," she said, tears springing to her eyes, "were you waiting for me?"

"Kagome…" He looked the same, yet entirely different, and he gave her no time to admire that before he yanked and she flew forward, straight into his arms. "You idiot," he said, shrouding her in his sleeves, "what took you so long?"

She had so much to say, no idea where to start, and from the glint in his eyes, he felt the same.

How silly of her, to think destiny had been fulfilled, that she’d have to settle, be grateful, and condemn herself to a life of what-ifs.

Voices rang from afar, drawing her attention. Sango, Miroku, Shippo, and three little faces she didn’t know but would recognise anywhere appeared, and she looked back at Inuyasha, smiling as brightly as the gold staring back.

Her duty to the past had been fulfilled. She wound back the clock, brought back the jewel, destroyed it, then mended it, all so she could say she’d destroyed it again and lived to tell the tale.

Miraculously, despite all that, and in the face of it, she even managed to graduate.

But she had a different purpose now.

And his name was Inuyasha.

Fin

Read it on AO3 ▶

Of course, she chose him! Kagome’s the main character! And the story’s called Inuyasha!

For those interested, this chapter falls loosely between Chapters 3 & 4 of Homecoming, which starts with Inuyasha’s POV during the 3-year separation ❤

Thanks again to @inukag-week for reviving this universe!

ttyl bbs 🤸

[sara-wishes]

Utopia. - 성화 🌷

🌷 Reaper! Seonghwa x Female! Reader

🌷 genre: fantasy au, soulmate au-ish, angst, fluff if you squint.

🌷 warnings: major character death, english is not my native language, reader is too naïve, this was supposed to be a drabble .

🌷 word count: 3.9k

🌷 now listening to: Utopia by ATEEZ

a/n: this is my first fanfic! if you find any mistake let me know, and i recommend listening to this playlist while reading it. hope you like it!

Deep in the woods, far away from the town, you had settled into a small cottage. Surrounded by trees but found in the middle of a clear, rested, a delicately organized garden. Filled with the purest of white roses, the most innocent pink tulips and all types of colorful crops.

Life was peaceful, and when the time came to visit the town for supplies, everyone was kind.

In the country in which you resided, Wonderland, everything seemed to have appeared from a fairy tale. 

When the summer arrived, the small river near the clear was always filled to the brim with fresh water to swim in. The animals would get closer to the rushing flow and take a sip to run from the blazing sun that, although the calendar marked June, looked like it was hoping to be merciful to the creatures that inhabited the earth, and its rays only caused the most minor inconveniences. 

In autumn, the leaves of the surrounding trees turned all kinds of beautiful reds, oranges, and burgundies, making the view a spectacle for the eyes. The crops would grow healthy and robust, juicy and ready to be collected, so you would get to work the first morning of the season to stash them safely in the crates of your kitchen.

Springs were your favorite. Quite fitting for the dream life you had. After all, your flowers bloomed like none other, leaving every passerby, both animals and humans, breathless before their beauty, including yourself. Some nights you even dreamed about fairies visiting your rose bushes, just to bask in their absolute magnificence. The birds would chirp every morning, gently rising you from your enchanted sleep, and you would leave them a bowl of water by your window for them to enjoy. The mere thought of spring gave you butterflies. The same butterflies a lover feels when they finally get to see their significant other after time apart. The same butterflies you felt when you allowed yourself to run freely through the full bloomed and green woods along the other forest creatures. You loved times like this, where you felt free.

Even if sometimes minor setbacks appeared along your way, you always managed to handle them with a smile. Truly, you felt like you lived high up in the clouds, where nothing could go wrong. Where the rain never reached, and only the sun shined upon. A fairy tale for children to enjoy, in which the red riding hood never met the big bad wolf. 

That’s why, when you heard talk in town about a bunch of robberies occurring on the outskirts of the village, you didn’t think much out of it.

-

This time around, the usually crowded streets were silent, and only a few figures could be spotted rushing from side to side. After all, the winter had arrived, and no one wanted to fall ill due to the freezing temperature outside. Every single soul knew to stay inside for the upcoming days, until the soft fall of snowflakes ceased.

Honestly, there’s nothing you wished more at the moment than to be snuggled up in your blanket at home, near the crackling fire, a good book in hand, quietly sipping on a cup of warm cocoa. But a sudden need for groceries had forced you to leave the comfort of your cottage to travel to town. Thankfully, you were already making your way onto the woods that separated your house from the rest of the population.

The robust trees reached high up into the sky, though, as the winter had long since arrived, they found themselves lacking any leaves to cover from the merciless breeze. This allowed the last rays of sun that managed to filter through the clouds, to enlighten your path home.

Soundlessly stepping on the white blanket that stretched as far as the eye could see, you hugged your cloak closer to your frame, in an attempt to guard yourself from the cold, and tightened your hold on the bag of groceries that had caused your current misfortunes. 

Just as the familiar shape of your cozy cottage on the snowed clear started to form in your vision, a snap made you turn around.

It had come from the forest that now laid behind you. 

As time seemed to still, you followed its state, unmovable like a statue, you kept your eyes fixed on the two trees from which you believed the sound had been caused. As fast as it came, a pure white bunny, the same shade of the roses you grew in the garden, flew across the similarly coloured scenery. Heaving out a sigh, you returned to a more relaxed position, releasing the stress from your shoulders.

Still, although the culprit of your previous distress had already shown itself, and had quickly ran away from the scene, you felt at edge. Like if something was somehow out of place.

Two eyes followed your every movement.

A small cloud formed in front of you as you once more exhaled, furrowing your brows, concentrating on your surroundings, you kept your eyes fixed on the same spot as before.

While the mist created by your own breathing swirled towards the sky, it dissipated from your view, allowing you to see clearly once more. Exactly then, you saw him.

Him. 

A young man, clad in gray and black had emerged from behind one of the multiple trees. A cloak was draped over his tall and slim frame. Blonde short hair peaked from under his dark robes, delicate jewelry adorned his clavicles and fell onto his chest. Although his face was sharp and his stance towering, his features seemed strangely kind, forgiving, almost comforting. His plump lips shined in contrast to his pale skin, and his somehow benevolent expression fitted his two beautiful and kind, brown eyes.

Two eyes that now stared back at you.

“Show yourself.” After your initial shock, you quickly demanded of the stranger. Even if his beauty was unparalleled, such as the one from your flowers, he was still an unknown figure wandering near your abode.

The mysterious man stepped away from his hiding spot. Slowly approaching your smaller figure.

“I’m Y/N. Do you perhaps have a name?” You cautiously asked him as he stilled.

“I’ve been called by many names, but if you wish to, you can call me Seonghwa.” the sweetest of voices answered your question. A honeyed liquor after a day of work, a breeze slowly creeping in from your windows in summer. Truly, you had never heard such a pleasant sound.

Seonghwa...

How could a name make you feel at home? How could the mere mention of it, raise goosebumps on your every portion of skin, make you inhale. How could it bring you back the spring butterflies in your stomach that you so much adored?

Dazed once again, you spoke.

“And what business do you have here... Seonghwa?”

“I was just passing by, but you should know, there have been rumors of violent thieves attacking young and beautiful ladies like yourself around these lairs... You shouldn’t be running about this late at night.”

Although his warnings would probably have angered you if they had come from anyone else, thinking they were questioning your ability to fend for yourself, you carefully took in his every word, enchanted by his mere presence. Still, you voiced your thoughts non aggressively.

“Well, thank you for your concern, but I can take care of myself. Now, I don’t really know you, but I know we’re both freezing in the cold and the nearest town is miles away from here, so perhaps, you would be interested in having a cup of tea at my house? As long as you promise not to be one of those violent robbers, of course.” You kindly offered the beautiful man, since you had felt so at ease by his side that you didn’t see any harm in letting him warm by your fireplace.

“If it isn’t much of a bother, I would be delighted. And no, I don’t happen to be one of the bandits.” Softly chuckling at your remark, he took your offer, and started to follow you into your small cottage.

What you didn’t notice then, were his soundless steps never leaving a mark on the fresh blanket of snow. Or the way the seams of his cloak seemed to evaporate into thin air, waving as he moved. Nor the way he sadly smiled at your back, an hourglass attached to his belt flowing endlessly.  

-

After your fateful encounter, and after enjoying a warm meal together, you both continued to meet, usually by the ends of your garden, wrapped in blankets. Well, at least, you, made sure to always be covered in blankets, not wanting to risk catching a cold. Seonghwa, for some reason, always wore the same beautiful clothing that almost completely revealed his clavicles.

He had been one hard to crack, but after a couple of months, in which winter still remained, but the snow had stopped, he finally spoke to you in a less cold manner. Honestly, although you had known each other for only a little time, your romantic feelings for the man had begun to quickly bloom, exactly like your tulips once April arrived.

70 days had passed since your meeting.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve always meant to ask you. How are you not freezing?!” One day you managed to address the matter, heavily worried about your new found friend.

The man that sat close to you on the same log, once again softly chuckled.

How you loved to see his smile. You were hoping for the day when he would finally allow himself to audibly laugh, and see how it reached his eyes and brightened his features.

“I told you Y/N, I’m not human! The cold doesn’t affect me like it does to you.”

This was true, in one of your talks, he had hinted this. He wasn’t human, he seemed to claim. The first time he had mentioned it, you had brushed it off with a laugh of your own, but as he repeated himself from time to time, you started to doubt your own beliefs about the man’s origins. And after one sleepless night in which the images of the man didn’t let you sleep, (Your everyday was plagued by his melodic voice, his graceful posture, and his kind eyes.) you had actually wondered about what he could be if he truly wasn’t human.

‘An angel. He was certainly an angel. There isn't anything else that could explain the warmth and gracefulness that surrounded his every action.’ You had thought that night.

“Okay. Let’s say I actually believe you are not human... Then what would you be, Mister?” You playfully answered back.

“Should I really tell you? Won’t you run away?”

His questions confused you, but what confused you further, was the way his words were spoken care freely, but his eyes were clouded by sorrow.

His eyes. His big brown gorgeous eyes. Filled to the brim with kindness, and yet each time you caught a glimpse of them when he didn’t see you looking, you could admire a deep pool of grief swirling on the mist of his gaze.

You truly didn’t understand him, but only you knew how much you wanted to get lost in the maze that his whole existence was.

“I promise I won’t run away Seonghwa. I would never run away from you... You know how much it took me for you to answer my questions with more than a mere word!” Not wanting to ruin the happy mood that surrounded the both of you, you still spoke half-jokingly, but sincerely letting him see just a peak of what you felt. After a beat of silence, he talked.

“I’m the reaper.”

He sounded serious, and for a moment, you were taken aback.

His once gentle eyes, now intensely stared at your soul. Your breath hitched and the butterflies on your stomach seemed to once again take flight.

Coming down from your cloud, you finally answered him.

“Well, then, if you truly are the reaper, then you are the most angelic reaper I’ve ever met.”

Still a bit dazed, you quietly whispered your words.

Seonghwa’s eyes softened once again, and looked back at you almost with what appeared to be pity.

You lowered your gaze to his lips, and as you did this, he leaned closer to your form. Now, almost grazing his nose with the tip of yours due to your proximity, he whispered only for you to hear.

“Really? I never would have guessed you had met other reapers before.”

“What? Jealous?”

Instead of words, Seonghwa answered by closing the small gap between the both of you, gently connecting your lips with his. You responded by circling your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

You had been attracted to each other since the beginning, as if a magnet had pulled you in, not giving you any chance to oppose. Of course, you would’ve never chosen to escape the claws of the big bad wolf, that now so delicately held red riding hood between his arms.

As you both separated, breathless from the kiss, you gazed once again into his eyes.

“I think I’m falling in love with you, Y/N.”

The sun had already hid behind the far away mountains, and another day had passed. Destiny had seemed to link your heart with his by a thin red thread, one that so easily could be severed.

How incredibly vicious this Destiny could be. It had allowed the beast to love pure and innocent Belle, and yet, now forced them to suffer the consequences.

-

“Seonghwa I’m so thrilled!”

“What for, darling?”

“There are only thirteen days left for spring!”

The sudden kiss you both had that night, had led you both to share your feelings for each other, and a week had passed by in a blink. You had spent your last days fooling around in the woods, relishing on a hot cup of tea in a small cafe in town, and enjoying your dates and time spent with each other.

Inexplicably so, Seonghwa seemed to turn more sour every passing day, but you didn’t feel brave enough to confront him about it, since he only showed this side of himself whenever he thought you weren’t looking. You thought it best to give him a bit of space. After all, you had only been dating for the last seven days.

“I’m just really excited for you to experience your first spring in Wonderland. And our first spring together, of course.”

“I’m sure It’ll be lovely, but don’t be surprised if I seem unfazed, Utopia’s springs are ones like no other.”

Utopia. You had asked once about where he came from, and he had told you that he came from paradise, an unknown land, to most called Utopia. A place where all the fairy tales you could dream of, came to life, and a place where an endless happy ending awaited for everyone. You really didn’t know what to think of the man in front of you anymore. He had said the most far-fetched things you had ever heard of, but still, you felt enamored at every single one of his stories.

“Well, then I’ll show you how much better it can be with me by your side!” Your playful conversation continued until you reached your destination. On one of the edges of the forest, near a cliff, where you both could enjoy the warmth of the sunrise. Another of your cute and exciting dates.

As you approached the ending of the cliff, you spotted a log where the both of you could seat comfortably in, and retook your conversation.

“Remember those thieves that had been causing trouble when we met?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I heard talk in town about them finally being caught!” You eagerly announced.

“I’m glad, I had worried about you coming back home alone everyday.”

“Aww, that’s sweet of you Seonghwa. But like I told you then, I can defend myself.”

“I know, I know...”

A breathy chuckle erupted from his chest, and as your conversation seemed to reach its end, the sun finally began to shyly rise above the mountains.

The view in front of you was magnificent, and slowly but surely every other creature awoke to witness it along your side.

The chirping birds, the small rabbits hiding inside their lairs and the little squirrels, all began to rise for the day ahead.

Just as the gentle but bright rays of sun started pouring into the earth beneath your feet, you took a look at the man beside you. At your lover. 

At your strange and mysterious lover, who claimed to be the reaper. A majestic man with platinum hair and black clothing. An angel whose only lacking features were his missing wings. Had he lost them? Or had he never had them in the first place? Was he really what he claimed to be? Or was the bizarre hourglass hanging from his belt just an odd fashion statement? 

You really didn’t care. Because no matter what he was, you loved him, and if he truly wasn’t an angel, you would collect every feather you could find, to give the man wings of his own to fly. To be free. Free from whatever shackles bound him to this earth, and were making his eyes look like they looked right now.

The white beams coming from the star now shone upon him. They quietly surrounded his every curve, creating a halo around his figure. His blonde locks framed his face, and a soft breeze made them slightly sway to the music of the chirping birds. His features were sharpened because of the shadows cast by the light, but his eyes... This same light filtered through his eyes, making them appear as if they were precious gems instead of part of a human being. The look that adorned his face was one of absolute calm. Unlike the calm before the storm, it seemed to portray an even motherly comfort, the calm of the sea after having witnessed so many years of despair.

Because regardless of how calm he looked, his eyes always told a different story.

One of pure anguish, of fear, sadness and guilt all mixed into one. Like if he had seen the most cruel of battles, as if he himself had fought in a war, as if the world was ending tomorrow. His eyes, the window to his soul, only showed you a broken heart.

Regardless, no matter what his worries were, you had promised to stay, to never leave and to never run away. So you took his face in your hands, turned him so he could look at you, and gazing softly into his eyes, you smiled.

“It’ll be okay, Seonghwa. Whatever it is, I’ll be with you.”

Sharing a kiss by the sunrise, a single tear was shed from your favorite pair of eyes, ones that you could have spent the rest of your life gazing into.

- 

“Seonghwa!”

In distress, you ran towards him, who embraced you after crashing into him.

“What’s the matter?” He asked worriedly. When he would have usually asked you in a motherly and playful voice a ‘what did you do this time’, now he seemed oddly concerned.

“You would not believe what just happened. And on top of that, just a day before spring!”

"A day before spring...? Is it already this late?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, but hear me out! I woke up this morning to find my house completely torn apart! The thieves must have escaped prison. It's a good thing they didn't get to my room on the second floor, or else, who knows what could've happened!"

Seonghwa didn't answer. He didn't move.

"...are you okay?"

Snapping out of his daze after hearing your voice, he looked back at you.

"Yes..., sorry my darling, you just took me off guard. Why don't we walk towards our spot near the cliff, while I tell you some stories about Utopia? That way you can forget about the incident."

"Sure, but only if you promise to help me clean my house after."

"Of course."

His eyes had been emptied. Of any hope. Of any light. He was tired. But he walked by your side, holding your hand.

90 days had passed since your meeting, and a corpse laid dead on the bed of the small cottage inside the forest.

-

Seonghwa was the reaper.

A lost soul meant to wander through this earth, guiding every passing heart, that unlike him, would reach Utopia with his aid.

He had seen so many people come and go into his "life". None of them could stay. And just like everyone else, you would eventually disappear too. 

This time, his "mission", had involved a pure soul, innocent and enamored with spring. 

Since his tormented heart could come as a bit too much to some, he had intended to keep himself away from you, until the time to lead you to Utopia came. He didn't want to put out your spark before your moment arrived.

But Destiny wasn't having it his way. One day, while he was looking out for you, a white bunny had revealed his hiding spot, forcing him to approach you. Despite being originally manipulated by a greater force, just like magic, he had felt incredibly drawn to you by your mere presence. So much so, that he alone was the one that chose to continue visiting your cottage. Out of his own will, not obligated by Destiny's wicked tricks.

Although he knew he shouldn't have, he knew it would only break his heart, he could not deny he had already fallen for your smile.

Despite his growing feelings, his mission was still clear and his hourglass mercilessly reminded him everyday, that you both only had 90 sunrises before your time came.

He confessed his love to you on the 70th day.

But even if he wished for every single star in the sky to not let you be taken away, to spare you from the cruel Destiny that awaited you, he received no answer from those above.

Although his broken heart would never be mended after your loss, he would always remember the words you said to him on a night in which the full moon hung from the sky.

"Seonghwa, even if you were to be the reaper, I could never be scared of you. I never was scared of the reaper even before I met you. After all, if someone offered to walk you home in the night, wouldn't you accept? Wouldn't it be lovely to have a hand to hold? I believe the reaper to be a gentle guide when it gets dark."

Those words would be forever engraved into his heart. Since that day, he promised himself no matter what, he would be with you every step of the way, until you had to part. Tightly holding your hand.

-

So now, on the day before spring, you both walked side by side, hand in hand. At every step you took, the snow blanket melted, and a white rose bloomed in its place. Behind the two of you, a new glorious garden began to flower. Filled with pink tulips and rose bushes.

He gently grasped your hand, whilst his soothing voice told you of all the stories this Utopia had to offer. Enchanted by his beauty and by his words, you followed him blindly through the forest. Not a thing mattered if you were right next to your soulmate, the reaper.

While his heart was heavy, yours was light. And even if you didn't actually know what had happened, you were content. How could you not? How could you not be content? You were walking beside your beloved and, after all, spring had arrived early.

"Goodbye, my dear rose."

[surrogate-fawn]

Could I maybe get something with #6?

Ring on a String (Wild West AU)

Prompt: "Trying to figure out the baby's gender by analyzing their symptoms with old wives' tales"

Characters: Fawn/Newt/Hassan, in a poly marriage. ((Newt & Hassan both belong to @mittysins))

Context: Fawn is the leader of an outlaw gang, and just so happens to be the only woman among them.

((This drabble is a prequel to "The Outlaw's Labor". Just a bit of short expectant family fluff.))

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

"It's a girl!" Newt announced.

Fawn quirked her eyebrow. "No, it ain't. Back 'n forth is a boy."

"It isn't going back and forth, it's going in a circle," Newt insisted.

"Doesn't a circle mean it's a boy?" Hassan piped up.

The three spouses sat in the shade of an overhang, their horses grazing on the banks of the river a few steps away. Fawn reclined against on old fallen tree, her arms resting behind her head. Hassan sat on the trunk beside her, and Newt was kneeling between them. Dangling from Newt's hand was one of his bootstraps, the end of which was tied to one of Hassan's golden rings.

All three were watching the ring dangle above the large swell of Fawn's belly, where their soon-to-be born child was resting. The trio had decided to try the old wives' tale after Hassan offhandedly brought it up. They wouldn't have much longer to wait to find out the sex of their baby . . . but there was no harm in taking bets.

"Wait, does a circle mean it's a boy?" Newt asked, looking over at his husband.

"Well, you're movin' so it don't mean jack shit," Fawn sighed. "'Ya gotta hold it still."

"Try it again," Hassan said.

Newt held the string still in his other hand, and then let it go. All three parents squinted as they watched the ring dangle.

"Boy," Hassan said with a nod.

"It's goin' in a circle," Fawn said, "so now it's sayin' 'girl'."

"But a circle means 'boy', right?" Newt asked.

"Yes."

"No! It don't!" Fawn cried, sitting up against the trunk. "Circle means 'girl', but it was sayin' 'boy' a second ago."

"How accurate is this, anyway?" Newt asked, holding the ring up to his eye.

"My mother swears by it," Hassan said with a shrug.

"The ring can't make up its damn mind," Fawn said, adjusting her belt so it stopped cutting into the underside of her belly.

Newt pressed his lips together, looking between his husband and his wife. "Maybe . . . it's twins?" he peeped.

"NO!" his mates yelled in unison.

[jadedandconfusedao3]

Draco the Heartless

“Draco! I have your heart!”

Hermione held up the shrivelled husk that was once his heart aloft.

His cold grey eyes glanced up at the object. “You expect me to believe that you have succeeded?”

She gritted her teeth and stepped forward. “I have traversed the endless forest, crossed the river of death and searched the castle at the end of tomorrow. I found the well and rescued the duck. I cracked open it’s egg to find this.” She shoved it underneath his nose. “Your heart!”

His eyes widened imperceptibly, and she gestured to the cold stone statues of her friends. “Now free my friends from your magic.”

He sneered, “Or what?”

She squeezed the heart slightly and he stumbled clutching his chest. Panting, her glared at her as he waved his hand. To her left Harry moved, pushing off the plants that had grown over him since his capture. She could hear Ron cursing and the soft babble of the others.

“Now what will you do with it?” he asked his eyes hard.

She held it out to him and his eyes widened in surprise.

“I want to restore it. I know that you are capable of kindness Draco. I have seen it. Let me restore your heart to you.”

He grimaced his eyes pained, “How can you ask me to do this? All that does is cause pain.”

“I’ll help you.” She insisted.

Meeting her eyes, he reached out his hand.

“No!”

Ron lunged for the heart, seized it and crushed it in his fist.

Draco dropped to the ground.

“Draco!”

She caressed his face as his breathing grew laboured. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t cry for me, Hermione. I deserve this. I just wish that I had a longer time to love you.”

I wrote two drabbles for the Fairy Tale AU round of LDWS. This is the one that did not make the cut. I just figured Main Character Death was to risky.

It's based off the old Germanic fairy tale "The Heartless Giant".

[firesign23]

First Lines!

@kiraziwrites and @floating-in-the-blue both tagged me "recently" (I am very bad at finishing posts in a timely manner) in the first lines meme!

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway

The Code of the Lannisters - Game of Thrones, Jaime/Brienne, 5.7K

It began, as far too many disasters did, with the arrival of An Aunt. In this case with the indomitable termagant that was Aunt Genna Frey, née Lannister, who arrived at Jaime’s King’s Landing townhouse for their luncheon in a tizzy and an enormous fur coat.

(Technically the next is a set of drabbles from the MFMM Flashfic challenge, but there's no 'first lines' in those really)

Outback - Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, Mac/Rosie, 500 words

Nobody in Melbourne is quite indelicate enough to ask why Rosie Sanderson has moved into the small house near the university, or why she shares it with a doctor who lectures there.

the road back home again - Game of Thrones, Jaime/Brienne, 27K

The Longclaw Tavern hadn’t changed. The same sawdust floors, the same shitty beer and the shelf of high quality whiskey thick with dust. Beside the bar mirror was a faded sign advertising the sourtoe cocktail, ‘the first and only in Westeros’. Jaime swilled his beer around his mouth, studied the weirwood bar heavy with water stains and pockmarks from decades of visitors to the tavern where the wilderness began.

Undisclosed Desires - Game of Thrones, Jaime/Addam/Brienne, 3.7K

She meets Addam over a sickbed. King's Landing is halfway to rubble when she arrives, and Jaime is halfway to death, and there's a man she's never met standing guard over them both.

These Foolish Things - Game of Thrones, Jaime/Brienne, 5.5K

Gravel crunches under the wheels of the phaeton as Jaime turns up the long driveway that leads to Baratheon Hall. Thick trees and red sunset skies give the journey the sense of another world, far removed from the bustle of King’s Landing, the march of progress. Old gas lamps spot the long length of the drive—to use electric would be crude, Cersei insists, but Jaime suspects she enjoys the power of sending them to be lit and extinguished at her will, the power to make Robert’s late night returns as difficult as possible in his drunken state.

come in, she said (i'll give you shelter from the storm) - Game of Thrones, Jaime/Brienne, 1.7K

There is much to do in the rebuilding of Winterfell, the buildings and its people both, and the war to the south still lingers; the Dragon Queen wishes to mobilise her forces and Lady Sansa does not, and it feels hours are wasted every day by their barbed insults and verbal clashes, a subtler warfare than swords and maces but just as deadly. It is that and only that which makes the people look warily out the windows as dusk falls far too early, as the wind begin to blow, bringing with it a driving snow that makes every moving shadow beyond Winterfell’s walls too reminiscent of— It is only the unease of the unknown, that is all. Still, when Brienne returns late to her quarters to find a supper of soup and fresh bread warming over the fire and Jaime in her bed…. Sometimes she is not certain that she did not die after all, and this is her reward.

we shall go into the land (so our children can always hold us) - Wheel of Time, Lan/Nynaeve, 1.3K

Fal Dara is nothing like the Two Rivers. Even now, late into the night with the moon high, there are torches hung on every wall, leaving fewer shadows to hide in; no one in Emond’s Field would think of such a thing, but here… Here, what were children’s tales to her are a way of life, monstrous and magical and mundane all at once.

what strange lullaby is this (that sings from its wound) - Game of Thrones, Brienne-centric, 16.3K

Six moons after the North is granted its independence, its Queen marries a young man from a House of no real repute. But he is young and his family loyal, and on the night of their wedding feast he does not object to the Queen’s silent shadow cloaked in blue armour. The North will not hold with southern wedding customs—there is no disrobing of the bride, no vicious hands or cheering spectators. Only a husband, a Queen, and the woman sworn to protect her.

the fixed foot - Game of Thrones, Jaime/Brienne, 500 words

Though it is summer, there is a chill in the night air that drives Brienne to sit before the fire in the Evenstar’s rooms. Her rooms. It still feels half a dream, the title; a life she had imagined abandoned when she had sailed from the island and had fallen upon her when she had not expected it. She is grateful that she need not bear it alone, for Jaime had followed her south and then into a sept, declaring what she had long known: she was his and he was hers, and together they would face the challenges to come.

and if tomorrow it's all over, at least we had it for a moment - Game of Thrones, Jaime/Brienne, 12.8K

Fuck loyalty. She stands there, glorious in her fury, stalwart in her declaration. Fuck loyalty. Like it is a simple request, like his loyalty is not the only virtue he has left. He might fuck his sister and try to kill a boy, he might kill a king to stop him from using wildfire and stand by when a queen does. He might be callous and sharp and rude, but he is loyal. And it means nothing to her, angry and righteous as she is, and worse still it reminds him that it is only a virtue if he is loyal to those who deserve it.

I have absolutely zero idea who has done this, so tagging @aurora-australis-tumbles @glamorouspixels @serhumfreysbrokencollarbone @samirant @scoundrels-in-love @luthienebonyx @it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined @catherineflowers29 @ladym-rules @deadhuntress

[axrsinal]

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ˳༄꠶ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯[ Drabble | Starter | Verse Into ; Last Tears of Earthrealm. ]

A thousand thoughts fly through his mind at once, he feels the approaching mass, smells the sulfur and magic that composes them on the winds as they blow through the storm around them. Raiden looks tired.. Fujin can't remember a time he saw him so dejected. Fujin's own heart twisted with loss. They had lost so much, so many, but he could not let it overtake him, not now. The wind must keep blowing, must keep moving, if not for himself then for Raiden.

" I am Still Here, Raiden. " His words come out raspy, his voice prickled and raw as he attempted to lend what energy he could to his beloved brother. This would not be their last fight, not if he could help it. " I am going anywhere... not without you. Until the end, yes? " His words were laced with levity, hope in his tone as he tried to ignore the growing dread in his heart and focus on their entwined connection, wind and thunder intertwined together as Fujin let his strength be shared. Raiden would not fall. Not Today. He would not let-

' Please forgive me, Brother. ' What-?

The wind god opens his mouth but its already too late. He feels the pull before he sees its source, a momentary loosen of his hold dooming him to his fate as Raiden shoved him back- and he fell.

" RAIDEN ! "

He couldn't grab him in time, couldn't plant his feet, he just. Fell. His arms scrambled and flailed, calling the winds to stop his decent but his thoughts would not calm. There was a torrent in his mind, scattering the winds of reason from his grasp like ash. The winds could not head him, his mind could not calm him, his brother would not catch him.

Instead he found his body slamming into hard ground, soil and stone scattering from his impact as he tumbled, feeling stalks of grain and grass sting his skin as it snapped against him or stuck itself to the blood and tears that coated his person. He couldn't see out of one eye, something was covering it, mud? Blood? His hair? He couldn't tell, he didn't care! The wind god scrambled to his feet, ignoring the agony that shot through his body at the movement. His energy lashed out, desperately trying to reforge the path that had brought him here. His voice cracked with desperation, sobs breaking his words and cutting through the dirt on his face like rivers.

" RAIDEN !! RAIDEN I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME! LET ME THROUGH ! "

' Do not forget me, brother. ' " RAIDEN !! " ' Tell our tale to those who will listen so my mistakes will not be repeated. ' " RAIDEN YOU BLASTED FOOL LET ME THROUGH! " ' I love you. ' " Assin’omekta !! " ' Goodbye.. '

Silence.

" Assin'omekta? ASSIN'OMEKTA?! " Fujin's voice shattered, weak and broken yet desperately calling out, the long forgotten tongue still on his lips as the energy of battle began to leave him, and the exhaustion began to set in despite himself. " Assin'omekta, nalifta?! Seno vigo teno! Seno- sen- " His energy finally caved, gravity pulling the wind god to his knees like shackles. He tried to yell one more time but his voice denied him, broken and pained it came out as barely a whisper. The wheat and reeds smacked against his form as the winds continued their assault upon him and the land around him, drying mud and blood and debris until the he looked almost burned from the mess. He heard voices calling out above the winds, who's he didn't know.. didn't care more accurately. The air in his lungs felt like tar, his body raw and pained, his hair a mess; tangled and loose like a broken vail, and all he could think..

Assin'omekta, nalifta? ( Brother, why? )

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Tale Of Midnight Blues || Drabble

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3   Wordcount: 2957 Warnings: mentions of bullying, tiefling bigotry, and a toxic relationship Summary: Astarion is new to this whole "caring about someone's emotions" thing, so the best way to practice is to try and prod Willow about her past

AN: I really wanted to work in the dialogue of "where were your parents in all of this, Willow?" "Oh, please, my parents would trade me for Karlach in a heartbeat." but I couldn't find a proper way to do it. However I wanted to mention it anyway since it explains so much about the BFF dynamic Willow and Karlach have

-------------------------------------------- As much as he didn't like it when the sun sank below the horizon, Astarion had to admit that the sunset was rather pretty. Shades of oranges painted the sky as he turned the pages of the book he was reading, goblet in hand that he occasionally sipped some wine from. Others in the camp were mingling, telling stories of their past or silly little jokes they heard from somewhere long ago.

Music filled his sharp ears, no matter that it was faint, distant... and not coming from a direction he expected it to come from. He looked up from his book, only to then realise that Willow was indeed not present among the people telling each other stories and memories.

A small, somewhat annoyed sigh left him when this realization hit. He really didn't like it when Willow decided to wander off on her own; the tiefling bard had an uncanny ability of getting herself into trouble whenever she decided to split up from the group.

Finding her was as easy as following his hearing, the music he followed slowly intensifying even if she wasn't playing all that loud; it didn't matter. Being both an elf and a vampire, it would take far more than to hide from Astarions sense in that regard.

He found her near a small, self-made campfire on the river bed, playing away on her lute in a matter that sounded a lot like just regular practice or.. did it? Tilting his head, Astarion listened closer. She was singing in a dialect of Infernal, so he couldn't understand what she was saying, but... that didn't mean he didn't hear the sorrow and melancholy of the lute.

He waited for the song to be done, before softly applauding in order to get her attention.

"Marvelous, darling," he chimed, trying not to sound too sarcastic about it because it did sound nice.

"But would you mind not sneaking off without telling anyone where you're going? You seem to have a knack of stumbling head first into trouble when you do."

Willow just looked at him, unimpressed.

"What, you don't enjoy running to my aid only to then chastise me for being dumb about my decisions? I thought that was a hobby of yours at this point."

Astarion couldn't help but feel a little smirk coming up at the sass he received. He did rather enjoy it when she bit back a little, showed some back bone when he had really been thinking she was nothing but a big push over when they first met.

"Anyway, what are you doing around here by your lonesome? You should be at camp, being the life of the party; you're the bard, after all."

Somehow, that comment seemed to completely miss its mark. For a split moment, he saw her flinch, clutching the lute a little closer to herself. And for once in his life, he hadn't meant it as some sort of jab. He would've been way nastier if it had to be a jab.

".... Willow?"

No response. She just focused on the lute, now playing what were definitely little practice loops of a happy, upbeat tune. Almost as if she was faking it.

Astarion kept silent, before rather dramatically sauntering over and sitting down beside her. His ears flicked back a little as for he wasn't sure how to phrase what he felt like he needed to ask.

".... What's on your mind?"

That seemed like a good way to ask. It was a very Gale way of asking, mayhap, but the wizard always seemed to have a way of asking about someone’s day that made people eager to talk. Therefor, it was a good strategy to mimic

"A tadpole."

... Or, maybe not. Not when it came to her. Astarion looked at Willow, frowning as she just gave him a deadpan look in return. This was hard enough without her leaning into the general banter and push and pull thing they had going. In that silence, as he looked in the flaming green eyes she had, he suddenly understood why it was so hard to truly connect. Gods, had he really not seen it before now, how she drew up a wall of airy, light humor and jokes whenever someone got too close for comfort?

".... You know," he started, keeping an eye on her as she turned back to strum on the lute a little bit, "For what it's worth, the group we're in knows most of everyone's backstories, save a few details that people don't wish to repeat for a myriad of reasons."

Himself included. He shook the thought away.

"Well, anyone; but you. All I know is that you got involved with this Nephamor-"

The way she suddenly halted her play was cacophonic at best, and Astarion flinched at the sharp sound of it hitting his sensitive ears. Silence fell between the two, as Astarion finished the sentence in his head but refrained from speaking it aloud. That he didn't even know much about her dealings with this tiefling sorcerer other than that the guy had been enough of a bastard that Willow had wanted him dead. And succeeded.

He looked at her from his peripheral view, going back and forth between that and watching as the river lazily continued its path down the valley.

"Do you..."

Gods, he had no idea how to ask about this. It wasn't exactly like he was used to asking anyone about their past in an open conversation. He either guessed what happened, or got his intel in some other- he grimaced at the memory.

"Uhm..." he muttered, trying to get a hold of himself again. Honestly at this point he much rather heard her story than have some memory flare up in his mind of nights he desperately wanted to actually forget.

"Do you... want to talk about it?"

The silence returned, lingering thick between them as Astarion mentally kicked himself and was almost ready to get up and go back to camp, considering it a mission failed-

"It's not exactly some grand tale fitting of a Bard," Willow mused, setting her lute to the side and leaning back on her arms for a little bit to look up at the night sky. Stars were starting to emerge as she did, with the moon slowly climbing up into the sky.

"Not everything has to be some epic tale," Astarion shrugged, trying to be noncommittal about it.

"... Mind if I bring it to you like a Bard should, anyway?"

"If it helps."

She turned to him a little, and he followed her example so they were facing each other at least somewhat. Astarion made himself comfortable as she added a little bit of extra wood to the small fire she had made.

"Well, our story starts in a small town in the middle of absolutely nowhere in Faerun, and at least near a cave entryway into the Underdark. It's a town founded by a small settlement of Tieflings who made some deal with a nearby drow population that they would take these unwanted lands off their hands and, you know, leave them to roam the Underdark in peace. It’s a rough and tough land and while the drow aren’t really an issue just about everything else is.

So this settlement of Tieflings quickly starts to value martial skill. Barbarian, fighter, monk; all of them highly valued as protectors of the people. And then there's a little purple tiefling among them. Everyone here a Mephistopheles Tiefling, that can only mean there's some red blood in her history somewhere. And that would be fine, were it not that this little girl likes, ugh, music and art,"

Astarion just gave Willow a very small nod when she looked to him for some kind of reassurance that she hadn't lost him yet. She kept her face almost eerily neutral as she continued

"So, when she's not watching people rip up her poems and sheet music, she is trying desperately to convince a magic born tiefling that they're better off if they stick together. But he plays along with the crowd, because he is far too scared to be their next target. This continues for years until both of them reach their majority and she finally convinces the sorcerer that Faerun is big. Like, really big; big enough that if they just look, and have each other’s back, they can have the kind of life they dream of. So, they run, in pursuit of something better."

She was trembling a little, but as soon as he noticed that she seemed to pull all her emotions back in and continued her tale as if she was talking about some wild fairy tale that never happened to her.

"It was hard. On the road, they often met people who had never seen Tieflings before, who immediately drew back in fear at the very sight of them. Or, they came across the settlements of their kin scattered about in the lands and were seen as just another mouth to feed. So the Bard did what Bards do best; entertain. She sang, she wrote stories and poems to recite, and he was clever enough to get her a proper stage and ask people for copper and gold to get in.

Finally, she was no longer seen as a monster to placate or a silly little thing with stupid aspirations that would get her nowhere, no, they saw her shine on stage and called her name in unison and adoration- and that sounds like the perfect ending, doesn't it?

But- well…"

She paused, needing a moment to breathe, and Astarion couldn't help but wonder if it was in a metaphorical sense more than literal. His ears flicked back again, frowning just a little as he wondered whether to make her stop or not.

".... Go on," he eventually softly prodded.

"Well, you see, using fame to deal with your problems is pretty much the same as asking a hag for some solution to an issue. Yes, it's great to be adored as the amazing Bard, until... until the demands start pouring in. Until everyone wants your autograph, every minute of your time, every piece of yourself you never wanted to part with- and you have to smile, and bear it, don't ever let that smile falter. Because as soon as they catch you slipping, as soon as you're less than kind, well; you're just proving you're the monster they still think you are. You're "one of the good Tieflings" until you're not. You're talented and amazing until you snap at a fan to not step on your tail again, please, and then the fear and bigotry returns and you’re the reason they regard your kin that way again as well.

Oh, and the sorcerer you bring along for protection? Well, if he's not busy throwing you to these ravenous wolves in every way he can, well, he's keeping an iron grip on anything that comes in while working in your shadow-"

"Willow-" Astarion started, the slightest bit of concern ringing through in his voice as Willow's trembling got worse; like the campfire was no longer keeping her warm. But this wasn't from being cold; he knew well enough that this was different. But she continued as the dam had broken and the whole story was too hard to keep in.

"Because, silly you, did you think you were getting paid? No, he is selling your talent for his own gain. You were never supposed to be a team and he will never have your back when it matters. Your talent is just a means to an end, you're just being-"

She bit her lip in anger, eyes squeezing shut as a silence fell between Willow and Astarion. However, this one wasn't awkward like the previous ones had been. Astarions ears lowered, a small pang in his chest making itself known as he watched the tears cling to her lashes.

He lowered his own gaze to the ground. He could fill in the final word to her sentence without even thinking about it, the silence between them only solidifying the sudden understanding they found between themselves.

“.... And to rub salt in the wound, he kept contact with the hellhole you both came from. He promises your hometown that he'll bring you back and make you an ‘honest woman.’ Why, leaving town together, that's clearly just a complicated way of saying you want to get eloped, right? What do you mean, no? You don't get a say in that."

He felt rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach, almost angry for her in her place. If anyone knew how much of a stab to the back that was, or how chaining that felt... it was him. Red eyes looked into flaming green ones as he realised she still had more to say.

"... So I got in an argument with him," Willow muttered, dropping the pretense that this had been about anyone but her as she still fought back the tears that were burning in her eyes by taking deep breaths and occasionally looking up at the sky,

"I argued. I screamed. I was so angry with him- He just got angry in return; saying that it was so obvious that we were an item now, and basically that he would be hailed as some kind of wild beast tamer if he just brought me back. He fully intended to drag me back there if he had to. So I ran from his side- only to run right into the ambush of a mindflayer, be whisked away on some ship and have a tadpole shoved into my eye."

Silence fell between the two yet again as Willow quietly inched closer to the river, gazing upon the image reflected back up at her and letting out a sigh. Astarion casted his gaze to the side, in deep thought. What was he to do? What could he do? It seemed like there was nothing he could say to ease her feelings, and he truly wasn’t sure what to do now that his silver tongue failed him completely.

He inched a little bit closer himself, only to flinch back a little when she leaned back with another sigh.

“Not exactly a grand tale befitting of an ‘admired’ Bard, like I said.”

Astarion let out the slightest hint of a huff, a weird tight feeling emerging in his chest as he watched her shift her weight and position. She pulled up her knees, hugging them so she could lean on them in support as she watched into the dark waters of the river faintly illuminated by the moon in the sky.

The silence between them remained as he desperately looked for something, anything to say, only to come up completely empty. He didn’t know what to say; comforting anyone had never been his forte, neither before and definitely not after he was turned into a vampire spawn.

Eventually he decided to inch closer to her, joining her by the water edge. He took care to place himself just close enough to her that their arms were ever so slightly touching, hoping that his presence and the featherlight touch offered comfort when none of his words could.

Willow’s pointed ears flicked back and lowered, as her gaze darted between him and the reflection in the dark water of the river. As far as the water was concerned, she sat there by herself, not another soul in sight. The only thing proving that he was actually beside her was the slight cold creeping onto her arm from where his touched hers.

“…You know,” she started, with a little laugh of disbelief as she knew how stupid this was going to sound, “there is one singular, solitary thing I envy about your… condition. I mean, it’s not worth any of the hells you’ve been through, obviously, but…”

She slowly and deliberately moved the arm he wasn’t leaning against, her reflection in the water relentlessly mimicking the gesture, even when she dropped it back to her leg.

“But at least you’re not constantly reminded of what everyone else sees when they look at you.”

“Doesn’t mean they treat me any better.”

“No, I know. I guess… I guess I just sometimes wish I didn’t see anything when I look in a mirror. It.. it would beat seeing everything I don’t like about myself.”

That was fair enough. The silence returned after that, but this time it was strangely a little more comfortable than it had been before. Astarion reached for her hand a couple of times, pulling back in hesitation just as often. He wasn’t sure how to do this, if she was okay with it, if he was okay with it, but eventually he took her hand into his own. He ran his thumb over her ring finger, down to the very tip of the clawed nail. He was still thinking of what to say when they intertwined their fingers, and he lightly rested his head to the upper part of her arm.

“You…. your storytelling isn’t half bad, you know.”

A little snort came out of her as that was the last thing she expected him to bring up, but in that was a quiet appreciation that weirdly enough, a comment like that from him was far more genuine than any of his more shallow praise. She felt him lean against her a little more, almost like he stopped holding back his weight as much. She responded by very lightly and loosely wrapping her tail around him.

“… You aren’t half bad either, by the way.”

“… Thanks, Star.”

[thefoxdenrp]

I Made the Right Choice... Didn't I? - Kaylyn Drabble Pt. 3

<Part Two>

A week had past since she ran into her friend and the pain in her heart only seemed to grow more and more with each passing sunset. The guilt ate at her, making her lose her appetite most of the time. She had come to Skyrim for Aslan. She had joined the Companions for the hope of finding him. Now she had! Why did she feel so lost though? Nightfall was worse because sitting around the fire turned her mind to the halls of Jorrvaskr during supper when all the Companions sat around the hearth and feasted together, laughing loudly and telling tales of their latest missions. The stars above her reminded her of a certain Nord and a flower filled field. It was why she retreated so fast into her tent, to hide away from the pain.

Kaylyn had been watching the flowing water of the river they travelled along before she started to notice how familiar this area was. Were they? She sat up on her knees and leaned over the side of the cart, trying to look pass Aslan.

"Hey now!" The man laughed, glancing over his shoulder at her. "You're gonna tip the cart if you keep moving like that." He teased her.

"We're at Riverwood! What? I thought we were heading for Morthal!" Her heart pounded in her chest. If they were close to Riverwood... then... She looked to the east. Whiterun was just a short walk from here. Home... The thought shocked her, making her shake her head.

"I took a detour." Aslan pulled over a few yards from the gate and dismounted from Setti. "Little sister..." He came over to the cart, standing directly in front of her. He gently cupped her face with both hands. "You are a part of my heart. You have been since that fateful day we met. You are the only family and friend that I have had in my life after I left home. It pains me to see you in such pain."

Kaylyn gaped at him. Pain? He... he saw that? Of course he did. Aslan always knew her better than she knew herself. She fought for words to say, but he pressed a thumb to her lips and continued.

"My home is wherever I roam. Only needing to return to you from time to time when I need a bigger piece of home in my life. The nomad life though is not for all. Do not feel guilty if it is not for you. You have grown so much in the years we have been apart. You have made a life for yourself, you have found a home in Whiterun, and more importantly, you have made friends there. I follow my heart when I travel. Now..." He placed a hand over Kaylyn's heart. "You must follow your own. What is it telling you?"

Kaylyn stared at him. His skin spreading over her like a warm blanket. How was he able to shine a light to guide the way when she felt so surrounded by darkness? But... there were others who shined light for her as well. Villagers of Whiterun flashed in her mind, relaxing under the Gildergreen, nights spent in the Bannered Mare. The visions that lingered the most were the Companions. Watching Henrik at the Skyforge, laughing with her fellow whelps, training in the yard, meals around the fire. All the members who were her friends more than fellow Companions. Like Farkas, Aela, Signe, Sunni... Vilkas...

"Home." The words choked out of her. "It's telling me to go home."

Aslan pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead before hugging her tightly. "Then go, Little Sister. Follow your heart."

<Part Four>

[bonesofmybones]

directory [wip]

The Dyr is a confusing place to find oneself in, even to those familiar with its winding roads and labyrinthian treelines. This is simply to help you get around - though if you are to get lost, keep your head down, follow the rivers, and do all you can not to go chasing the voices whispering to you from beyond the trees.

Worldbuilding

Anything tagged with this is to do with the setting of the story and will be written out of character. This includes ocgeography, which talks about the physical location, and legal system i guess, which outlines the political and legal system of the location.

Drabbles

Sometimes I am plagued with visions in the middle of the night and have to write something before I combust. This is for those. Each story has it's own title, some will be multiple posts long but they will mostly be brief, short stories that take place within the realm. Some will have lore relevance, some will not. Consider these fables, legends, backstories- the list goes on. Some will be part of a thematic series, each of which will be tagged. Currently, the only one is Calls in the Wilderness, a set of tales surrounding those deep in the brush that do not always choose to hide themselves.

Yapping

Sometimes i just need to yap okay yes this is an infodumping tag no i do not know how to dress this up in any other way than "i need thoughts out of my brain immediately"