#˖ ࣪⭑ fireflies light — human torch.

[trckstaer]

˖ ࣪⭑ the only johnny storm that has every mattered actually

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 7: The Dark Woods Deep

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 3.4k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ the dark woods surrounding the elven castle are filled with more than just fireflies and plants...

Your window had been left open to let the night breeze roll in. Some fireflies had taken it upon themselves as an opportunity to enter the space and flittered like specs of glitter around your bedroom. The coolness had been enough to wake you from your light slumber. You blinked the tiredness from your eyes as you looked around the room. It had to have been sometime in the early hours of the morning. 

You shuffled free from the sheets and glanced outside. Beyond the garden, you could see the village spots in the distance. Most of the lanterns and torches were out, enforcing the idea that it was early. The thick forest canopy blocked out the sun, so telling what time of day it was came down to the routine the elves had established. 

You moved towards your wardrobe and opened the dark oak doors. Beside your dresses hung your old cloak and the little clothes you brought. You grabbed the dark green cloak and flung it over your shoulders. You pulled the hood up to cover your head and eclipse your face from the little light around. Your bag, packed with jars to collect the flower you are after and the book you need with your journal, was waiting on the table where you would break your fast. If you were correct on the approximate time, you could sneak out and back before Amara and Liriel came to rouse you for the day. 

The plan was set into action. 

You moved to your open window and flung the bag down first which landed in a bush. Putting your right foot first, you made your way through the window and into the garden. You crouched down and looked around. Though this garden was specific to growing supplies for the healers, occasionally a guard would walk through. You knew other elves were not privy to this area - a prestige you were happy to be granted. However, it did not stop the guards from checking every once in a while. 

Navigating the area was easy, as you were familiar with it. You moved quietly and swiftly. This plan was not the smartest, nor the best in regards to your fragile status here and its ability to end your stay shortly at the hands of the king lest he find out. The hunch you had on how the flower - Mortua terra - could be a breakthrough in your studies was emboldened by the passion of furthering your father's work, but also for all the faces of the sick elves you had treated. This was for them and you would not back down. 

You reached the outer wall with vines and branches surrounding the dark stone. You glanced back once again to scan the area and found nothing. You turned back and tugged at one of the thick hedge branches. You pulled yourself up and placed a foot into a crevice between two stones. On and on, you repeated the process until you were up and over the wall. 

Once on the other side, you pulled the dark magic book out of your bag that hung from one shoulder, across your torso and rested at your hip. One of the pages had a map and you flipped to it. The drawing was vague, but enough for you to gain your bearings after a few moments. The darkness was not easy to navigate in, but you had a lantern packed and ready to use once you were well enough away not to be spotted. 

You took a deep breath and began your tireless trek into the dark abyss.

It had been upwards of two hours. An hour into it you had lit your lantern to view what was in front of you. You had made significant progress. The atmosphere of the forest around you had gotten visibly more menacing the further you got from the castle. These forests were older than memory, largely untouched the whole time. It was equal parts mystifying and chilling. 

You had scanned the foliage in the area and glanced down at the book that was in one hand, the other holding the lantern of fireflies. The flowers were sure to grow around here. You turned around in your spot, scanning the low foliage. It was in the distance - in what little light you had - that there appeared the vague shape of the flower. You scrambled forward with excitement. When you got closer, the light from your lantern illuminated the space. 

The flowers, Mortua terra, were in front of you. You sighed with relief and sank to your knees. You reached into your bag and pulled out some gloves and carefully put them on your hands. You used a small dagger you had packed to properly harvest the flowers, following the instructions in the book. The next few minutes were spent properly storing the flower cuts in small glass vials. Once done, you took off the gloves and pulled out your journal. 

While you scribbled down notes and rushed sketches to label, the sound of movement near you caused you to hunch further on the ground. Your head swivelled back and forth to try and pinpoint the sound, but it was silent. You slowly moved your journal back into the bag strapped to your side. Your hand grasped the handle of your dagger and you held your breath. Another branch snapped to your right and had you turn in your spot. The lamp you had was knocked over by your cloak, not only some stray fireflies lit the area just barely. 

A low growl hummed through the stagnant air. A silhouette, large and imposing, moved towards you slowly. You could smell it before you could properly see it. The odour, foul like rotting meat, permeated the surrounding area. Your free hand reached up to block your nose, but by then it was too late. Bent down and hunkered, a beast of large proportions - larger than any you had ever seen - dragged its heavy claw-ridden paws across the exposed dirt of the forest floor. The upsticking roots of trees were met and marked with deep cuts. 

The beast's eyes glowed yellow and flickered like the fireflies around you. As it got closer, you could see the scars that cut through its thick fur. A permanent snarl was etched onto its grotesque face. Your heart thumped so quickly and loudly that you were confident the beast in front of you could hear it. A low growl emitted from its slobber-covered lips and reverberated through your bones. 

As if hearing a noise you had failed to catch onto, the beast turned its head to the side and narrowed its glowing eyes. You were unable to look in the same direction. Your gaze was locked on the monster and its menacing form. You felt nothing but fear. Not the rush of a thrill and spike of adrenaline. It was the pure unbridled kind of terror that paralyzed you. A chill seized your spine, crawling up further as beads of sweat ran down your neck. This was not a fear that made you feel alive, it was the kind where you wished you were dead. 

The kind of fear that would make said wish come true. 

The storming of hooves and a whistled neigh shook you from your petrification. The beast in front of you crouched down before bounding off into the darkness. You backed up into a tree, the rough bark scraping against your cloak. As quickly as the monster was gone, was as quickly as its large body was flung back into the illuminated space. It landed on its side, wounded and growling mad. 

A figure moved from the darkness. 

Aemond stepped forth, clad in nothing but boots, pants, and a black linen shirt with loose lace at the top. His hair was down, only held back slightly by the band belonging to his leather eyepatch. He clutched a longsword in his grasp. The shiny light steel was coated in thick blotches of dark blood. His chest rose up and down in heavy controlled breaths. Like the beast, Aemond prowled across the forest floor towards the wounded monster. 

The animal moved to get on their feet, but their stomach was exposed and Aemond took that as an opportunity to drive his sword into its stomach. You watched as his strength was used to pull the sword out and plunge it in again, the second time in the area you believed was the heart. With a final roar, the beast gave out and plummeted to the ground. 

You moved so slightly from the tree and looked at Aemond. His one eye was staring down at the creature with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“I-” You were just about to speak when Aemond cut you off. 

“Do you honestly think you could sneak out of my castle without being spotted?” His agitation came off of him in waves. 

“I can explain.” You needed to tell him how vital this mission was for your research. The flowers you harvested have the potential to make progress - real progress. 

“I care not for your explanations,” Aemond dismissed while glaring at you, “What I do care about is the sheer stupidity in which you carry yourself. It is one thing to be curious, it is another to entirely disregard all manner of intelligence and venture off into a dark forest to which you know nothing about.” His rant happened to be the most you had heard from him in the last two weeks of your stay there. 

“You seem entirely too invested in my own interest. My life is of no consequence when others are dy–” Aemond cut you off by swinging his sword up to your throat. It was just a sliver away from your skin and still covered in the foul-smelling blood from the beast. You had backed up into the tree again, your hands clutching at the bark by your sides. 

“Well, if your life is of no consequence…” Aemond’s voice had dropped an octave and you saw this lethal look in his eye. Deep under that, he had an unreadable feeling in his eye, which you could not decipher. 

“I needed to collect something of vital importance. I did not think there would be things out to kill me.” You reasoned. 

“Every little thing is out to kill you,” His grip on the hilt adjusted, “I could kill you. It would be fitting with your transgressions.” 

His voice was laced with venom, and the truly unsettling part was how you found yourself willing to drink such poison.

“The only reason why I am sparing you is for my sister.” His words cut deep, but there was an edge to them that sounded as though he did not entirely believe it. In his eye, you could see a storm clashing amongst the blue hues and hitting the dark rock of his iris. 

Aemond gave a low whistle while he dropped his sword from pointing at you. In response to the sound, a horse came from the darkness and in the area. A lantern was hanging from the side of the saddle. Its coat was a chestnut brown, much like the bark of the elder tree that the castle was built upon. The steed trotted forward and stopped just short of where Aemond stood. He made a gesture as if he expected you to follow. 

You moved forward, making sure to keep some manner of distance between the two of you. He turned to the horse and nodded for you to get up onto the saddle. You flung your bag over your shoulder to secure it to your body and stepped into one of the stirrups. 

Shortly after you sat on the horse Aemond followed, urging the horse to move into a canter. You could feel his burning anger that came off him in waves. It was like ripples in water or the mirage you would see on a hot day. An intense heat cut through the chilly dark forest. This was the closest you had ever been to the king, and it was then that you truly realized the differences between you two. 

He was larger than you, that much was easy to see. However, the aura he held was shrouded in a form of benevolence that was both divine and sinful. He held himself with the ages in which he had lived. Whatever knowledge he had was far superior to yours. Except for manners or general politeness; in that you were sure you held the upper hand. 

The forest moved past the two of you as you ventured on. You were far too nervous to speak. You even suppressed your breathing to the best of your ability, lest he get even more irritated by your presence. Your hands clutched the saddle. There was no way you would hold onto the king, though with each unstable step the horse took on the root-ridden ground, you contemplated wrapping your arms around his middle for stability. You chose not to. A fall to the brutal ground would be far better than being killed by Aemond if you even moved to hold on to him. 

The ride back had been painfully slow, despite it being faster than the time it took you to walk that far. It was quiet, with nothing but the sound of foliage crunching underneath the horse's hooves. You had difficulty keeping your eyes on the forest around you. On occasion, you would find yourself looking at Aemond’s back and his silver hair that glowed in the low light of the lantern. 

Something you hated to admit was how beautiful he looked. As an elf, he was afforded heightened beauty - but that was not the whole tale. Despite his untoward attitude and menacing presence, he was shaped like an ethereal being. There was no trace of the brutal, monster-looking king you had heard so much about. Aemond was a vision, beyond that of the other elves you had seen. 

Even his attitude was not in line with the stories - a recurring thought you had almost daily. You had yet to see him kill a random servant, torture anybody, or even terrorize anyone. Although, you could not help but wonder how much of that happened in secret. The whole time you had been there was spent in such a small portion of the castle. There was no way to verify that he was not like that. 

Stories had to come from somewhere. The tales were too brutal to be fabricated. So why haven't you seen that barbarity? 

With seemingly no answer to your question, the two of you arrived at a gated area. It was not the front entrance of the castle, but rather a side entrance. A short distance away was a large stable, with some horses milling about in a fenced area. Attendants descended immediately. They took the reins of the horse. Aemond stepped down, his lithe frame moving with agility. Once he was down, you moved to get down as well. 

You had lifted one of your feet onto the same side as the other, but before you could properly jump down a pair of large hands gripped your waist. Aemond had pulled you down to the ground as if you weighed nothing. He immediately retracted himself after, casting a glance at his hands as if the move was entirely unplanned and caught him off guard. 

Two guards had approached. Aemond did not glance your way as he addressed them, “Take her back to her room and resume a rotation of escorts. Do not be lax again.” It came as a surprise when you realized this was the first time he addressed you as her, the other times you were just ‘human’ or occasionally ‘it’ according to Daeron and Helaena. 

You spotted Criston for the first time in a while. He stood off to the side with a sharp stare directed at you. While he stood with the attitude of self-importance, he looked exhausted. It was as if he was currently being drained of energy at the moment. Aemond stalked off, his gait swaying sharply. 

You fiddled with the strap of your bag and sighed. Out of all the outcomes from this, you had to bet this was the most favourable. He almost killed you, but the look in his eye was not something you would forget. It almost looked hesitant. Perhaps that was the moment he thought of his sister and chose to spare you, as there could be no other explanation. 

With two guards walking with you, you went back to your room.

An hour had passed after you arrived at your room. You had been pacing the length of the floor between your bed and desk in front of the wide windows. Your bag had been discarded on one of the couches. Thoughts swirled in your head as the moment of the cold steel of Aemond’s sword at your throat seemed stuck in your mind. You could recall the rapid thumping of your heart at the danger you were in and the quiet thrill of it all. 

There was a precipice you had reached in your thoughts on Aemond. Over the last few days, you had tossed and turned over the conflicting reports you had received growing up. The stories told over fires late at night or in the corners of pubs about his cruelty were whispered with such conviction you had believed them wholly. Yet, there was no example of any of those stories you had seen. 

Due to that, he intrigued you more than ever. You pinned it on his mysterious personality and your insatiable curiosity. Aemond was a compelling being, one which you wanted to know more about but knew you would never. The year of your stay here would pass quickly and you would be gone. That time would be short for you but significantly short for an elf. Aemond, and all the other elves you had met, would forget you quickly. You were nothing but a blink in their lives, a thought most disheartening. 

The low creak of your door opening broke you from your thoughts and you stopped pacing. Helaena stood in the doorway, a neutral expression on her face besides the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth as if holding a quip back. She walked in and the guards outside closed the door behind her. 

You were stuck on what to say. The whole time you had been pacing the thought of apologizing to her for your stupid and impulsive decision to sneak out never once crossed your mind. You had spat on her good graces of contending for your stay in the kingdom, a gift so great it could never be paid back in full. 

“Helaena, I-” You began but stopped once she held up one of her hands to silence you. 

“I’m curious about why my brother is on a rant about ‘that stupid little rūklon risking her life’ as we broke our fast this morning,” Helaena spoke. She moved forward to sit on her designated spot on one of the couches. She had always claimed that spot when visiting, the outer edge on the right wherever the couch faced - the same way she sat on the couch in your home when you brought her back to take care of her cut.

“I’m sorry for disrespecting you and the opportunity you have given me here,” You communicated as you went to sit across from her, “When I get an idea in my research it's like I’m enchanted. I cannot think of doing anything else but that, regardless of anything going on in my life. That is no excuse, I know it, but truly I feel so terrible.” 

“I am not looking for an apology, nor will I deny what you did was incredibly stupid.” Helaena gave you a gentle smile, “I support you in the work that you do, but I can only advocate for you so much with my brother.” 

“I know. I will not do anything like this again, I promise.” You told her while shaking your head in disappointment at yourself. 

Helaena nodded, “I believe you, but others may not,” She leaned forward and looked you directly in the eyes, something she had never done before, “Prove it with your actions.” 

“I will.” You respond. Helaena then leaned back into the plush cushions. 

“Now, I would like to hear about your little adventure.”

Chapter 8: Marked Flesh Preview

“No. The options available are… less than desirable.” You tried to find the most gentle words to use and Daeron seemed to understand while he spun you around. In just a short moment, the smile on Daeron’s face morphed into a serious one. 

You raised your brow at him as he stopped dancing and the two of you stood there. You turned to where he was looking and nothing could prepare you for what you saw. Aemond was right there, with his hands clasped behind his back and a smug look on his face. He never came to these dances, from what you heard, so why was he here now?

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[foralternateuniverses]

au where Sora is a nature spirit that Judge tricked and shackled to himself

With her last breath she hid her children from Judge, sending them away but unintentionally locking them where they landed

Sanji ends up in a somewhat populated place

Yonji and Reiju end up close by populated places

And Ichiji and Niji ending up pretty isolated

(Ofc Judge is looking for them)

Sanji is on a beach, the area they can move around isn't small, but Sanji isn't able to reach any food source, fortunately, Zeff ends up there and ends up taking care of him. Sanji doesn't tell him but Zeff isn't stupid, he realizes that 1 - this kid isn't completely human, and 2 - he is locked in place, so he has their house and restaurant built there. Ofc it becomes popular and the nearest city slowly grows its way closer and closer to the area Sanji is sealed in. Zeff is also looking for a way to free Sanji from his curse.

Both Reiju and Yonji end up in borders, able to reach the outskirts of the nearest cities.

Reiju becomes a bit of a local deity, since she's the oldest (hence the one that was able to spend more time with Sora) she has better control/understanding of her powers and is able to make deals and help people (as well as defend herself)

Yonji becomes more of an urban legend, sometimes interacting with people (mostly those who seem to be his age, but sometimes others too, as long as they seem interesting) and using his long reach to steal stuff whenever he wants/needs.

Niji ended up high in a mountain while Ichiji ended up in the deepest parts of a forest, both almost completely isolated, the only reason they didn't go completely feral was because of their mother's blood in their veins. Niji is the one with the least amount of control over his powers so the mountain top is in an almost eternal electric storm, It ends up attracting some other spirits that end up settling in his general area, but Niji doesn't like them very much (they're Kaido and his gang). there’s a small village at the base of the mountain Niji is trapped on and they sincerely believe he controls the weather so they send offerings to him, Niji doesn't learn about them until later but the citizens are sure that the mountain is cursed (cuz of Niji)

Ichiji, when he first gets trapped, loses control and ends up torching a good chunk of the forest early on and has to live with the fact that his permanent new home is a charred wasteland unless he can get himself under control, And then overcompensated and the new grown plants barely let any light pass through But it's fine, Ichiji is his own source of light He's so deep in the forest he's only ever found by people who get lost, at first he tried to keep them there, but there's no way for mortals to survive the way he lives, so they ended up dying which only caused him distress, so he ended up deciding to completely avoid people or sth, he ended up learning how to use his ability to create firefly lights to guide people to their paths the anxiety that consumed him when Ace ends up there and decides to stay with him (he's in hiding, if he leaves he'll be captured and killed)

Ichiji, always shrouded in darkness, people are usually only able to see his bright eyes and whatever lil else his lights illuminate (he's terrifying, but he also guides the innocent back home) Sora's powers mainly had to do with the wind and all her kids also have some minor wind abilities which are also what have allowed them to at least keep each other somewhat updated (i picture it more like the wind telling them random stuff that them actually controlling that) so maybe the wind sometimes tells Ichiji about what the people who end up there have done (since he needs the wind to tell him where he should guide them to) so he decides whether he wants to help them or kill them uwu

Niji doesn't like Kaido and his men, they keep pestering him about joining (submitting to) Kaido. Kaido can't enter Niji's sealed area because the same magic that keeps him in place also keeps overly dangerous beings like Kaido out. But others like Yamato, Ulti and Page 1 can (yes, he does end up at least making out with each one of those three at least once)

In this au the Marines are kind of a "Fae hunting" organization, they "take care" of "dangerous and malicious" spirits, while MADs study them (and experiments on them)

While the revolutionaries rescue and protect all the spirits that actually aren't malicious & dangerous.

Which is how Sabo ends up looking for (and finding) the Long Arm Man, his "legend" has outgrown his small city by a lot and the Marines will arrive at any moment for it, so the Revolutionaries will beat them to it.

This is also the reason Ace ended up on the run and hiding in Ichiji's forest.

His father was an incredibly powerful fire spirit and the Marines found and caught Ace, he was fortunately rescued but it was a close call and he's still very much in danger.

Neither Luffy nor Sabo are spirits, but Luffy is the chosen vessel of the Sun God Nika (something only a few people know about him) and Sabo has a spirit deal with Ace which allows him to use his fire abilities (to no to the same extent or as powerful as Ace specially when they're far away from each other and also lets them be somewhat aware of each other's safety and location)

the town Reiju ended up near by being the one where Mihawk and/or Gecko Moria live so she and Perona can have a childhood sweethearts/friends to lovers and that part of the reason of Perona's obsession with the occult is 1 - the fact that she can see ghosts and 2 - find a way to free Reiju

when Sabo finally learns that this super weird guy is the Long Arm Man he's gonna be like: we have to leave Yonji: lmao, good luck with that

now we have 4 different people trying to free these morons (cuz ofc Kaido wants to drag Niji out of there) 3 of those 4 will definitely end up joining forces

meanwhile, Acechiji is chilling in the dark

there's a problem with freeing them tho

the only reason Judge was unable to find them was because of the same spell that kept them in place

Judge will probably find them rather easy once they're free

Luffy, unintentionally, frees Sanji (cuz being Nika's vessel grants him that kinda power) Sanji and Zeff are super confused but happy and ofc Luffy takes Sanji on his quest for adventure

Ichiji who hasn't seen sunlight in literal years so he needs to keep his eyes covered and Ace helps him move around

I'm thinking that freeing Sanji should also have an effect on the others' seals, like, maybe now Kaido can reach Niji and Judge can find them (even if he can't take them away)

[oldschoolfrp]

The firefriend, or giant firefly, is an intelligent insect that forms bonds with people and can learn to speak the common tongue. Despite its small size it can emit a very powerful beam of light as a weapon. (AD&D Monster Manual II, TSR, 1983) I skimmed past the giant firefly entry many times without realizing there was more to it. These could be valuable companions to a party, even better than the irascible fire beetles, especially in the era of dungeon crawls with precise resource management when adventurers tracked the use of each torch and flask of oil as time passed.

The firefriend, or giant firefly, is a well-regarded but rarely encountered creature found in temperate climes. Although this giant insect has only low intelligence by human standards, it is clever and shuns obvious enemies. Humans and demihumans of friendly disposition are sought as companions, however, for firefriends love to converse with them and to hear stories of a fanciful nature. A firefriend has small but sharp mandibles with which to protect itself. In addition, its glowing abdominal light, normally equal in luminosity to a torch, can be brightened and concentrated once every turn. A beam of greenish light about 3 inches in diameter and up to 14 feet long can be shot forth. Flesh struck will suffer 5-20 points of damage, one-half damage if a saving throw vs wands is successful. These creatures are not harmed by electricity or fire. Firefriends speak their own language as well as the common tongue in most cases. They hatch in spring, grow to maturity by age 2, and live about 10 years or so. By age 1 or 2 they learn to converse with humans.

[gojotenshi]

remember this post?

lil sneak peek of part 1 of the gojo x reader x geto wip!

You couldn’t help but laugh at your silliness. There was no unwitting human on the grounds, you knew exactly why you had come to such a distant estate. Instead of Fae, there were vampires that wanted you for your blood. A way to control the urges that the blood moon imposed upon those with their traits. Which was kind of funny thinking about when everyone connected the moon with werewolves.

If going through the second entrance had felt like stepping through a portal, you didn’t know how it felt going through the main building entrance.

Everything went from impressive to ethereal in the matter of a couple of seconds. The stone path was the same, still well traveled, but now there was a bridge that went over a massive pond, framed by a single wisteria tree, leaves and flowers hanging over the bridge just out of reach. There were still torches lighting the way, but they had been turned off, probably so the fireflies that buzzed around the pound with their lights could be seen in all their glory. And as soon as you stepped onto the beginning of the bridge, you could see the ripples in the waves and the peek of white fins swimming just below the surface.

[sykokilljoyy]

building a burning house (soulmate au) - sapnap x reader

pairings: dsmp!sapnap x reader (not cc!sapnap, this is a fictional character) words: 2866 warnings: enemies to lovers, blood, war, angst, scars, wounds, pain. this is set whilst l'manberg is still standing, some details have been changed to include y/n. enjoy!!

summary: in a world where soulmates share scars, y/n discovers that her soulmate is her sworn enemy the night before they go to war.

Fireflies hummed, hovering just feet above the surface of the water, dancing perfectly on the ripples below. Moonlight slipped through the oak leaves that towered above, a gentle white glow shining back from the reflection. Festivities burst, albeit muffled, from the humble building beyond the trees, laughter and cheers of your peers filling the air as you sat on the river’s edge. There was a war coming, when the moon settles down to rest and the sun takes her place. People were going to die, to lose another life at the hands of your enemies. A traitor had already been weeded out, and talks of another loom between the soldiers, hushed voices pointing their fingers at turned backs.

Summer’s air circled around you, embracing your weathered skin like a warm goodbye. Hopelessness filled you, even though you knew full-well you should be holding your head high and willing to lock arms with your fellow patriots. It didn’t feel like a war. It felt like walking, hand-in-hand to a certain death. Maybe that’s why you were out here, to bid a farewell to the city you called home, well tidings to the life you knew.

Glancing down to your hands, you brushed them through the bitter water, scanning the scars that covered your skin. It was an old tale, some legend of a mage who lost their soulmate in a horrid war, that you share the scars of your soulmate. Whilst you didn’t used to believe it, even when odd scars begun showing up on your body now and again, you would pin it to sleepwalking, or accidental wounds from your clumsy nature. It wasn’t until one day in your teen years, when a burning itch spread across the left of your torso. Revelling in pain and discomfort, you pulled up your shirt, revealing a large, tender scar of a fresh burn seared into your flesh.

Ever since, your body had been tainted with cuts, burns and horrible wounds you couldn’t even theorise the nature of. Not like your soulmate wouldn’t have had a fair share of your own, from sword fighting with Toby, to the various fights and battles you’d won and lost as an army. It’s what you’d expect from the life you live.

Eyes to the night sky, you watched the L’Manberg flag sway in the wind, your thoughts cast back to those you fought for. You wished desperately for something, an array of hope or a glimpse of something, anything to get the upper hand. Whilst you knew your enemy, you had someone on the inside to relay information, it didn’t feel like enough. You knew Dream, from years gone past, you knew he wouldn’t hold anything at face value. They have something prepared, something you couldn’t even imagine.

In that moment, a surge of something ran through you. Whether that was hope, determination or damn-right stupidity, you grabbed the blade that lay on the dirt beside you, picking up your quiver and set off into the darkness of the forest. Lighting a torch a few inches in front of you, you pushed yourself through the sticks and branches of the thick, untouched woods ahead. No one ever ventured between the countries, and if they did, it was through the path North of the main gate - the safest route. You’d be shot on sight if you were seen approaching the SMP in the middle of the night, so the dense trees were your only option.

Brave as it was, it was always dumb to leave the confines of light and company at night, the darkness filled with creatures and threats beyond your imagination. For that reason, you hugged your bow close to your body. Branches cracked and leaves rustled all around you, and the human part of you wanted nothing more than to give in to the fear that nudged at your chest and run back to the safety of your people, but you knew you needed the upper-hand. You pushed on.

Not even a minute further, light begun to break through the trees, the hum of life flittering through the canopies - you were close. Blowing out the lit torch, you packed it away and steadied your movements, knowing that anything too sudden would alert the guards by the walls. All you needed to get was close enough to hear a whisper of something, anything. The closer you got, the louder the guards voices became, until you heard a whisper of the war coming from above. Straining, you focused on the mans voice, just almost loud enough to hear his words. Almost, just a little closer-

“You, of all people, should know you’re not allowed here,” In a split second, a blade was pressed against your throat, strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against a warm, hard body. A gasp that left your body was quickly rectified as his hand left your waist and flew over your mouth to avoid the guards seeing you. You knew his voice immediately, Sapnap’s had always had a distinctive hoarseness to it.

“You’re either going to tell me what you’re doing here, or I kill you right now,” His breath was hot on your neck, lips close to your ear to keep his tone hushed and discreet, “Deal?”

His eyes were accustomed to the darkness, having traversed the woods for hours collecting supplies for his people, he always worked better, faster at nightfall. Scanning the body in his grasp, his eyes landed on your skin for the first time. Not once had he seen you up close, your only contact being distant whilst your leaders fought, occasionally wounding one another in a brief battle, but nothing that would require this proximity. His shoulder twitched as he stared at the almost familiar scar etched into your own, shrugging off any correlation as you nodded your head hurriedly.

Carefully, he removed his hand from your mouth, and you hurried out a half-hearted excuse, “We needed supplies, and I must’ve lost my way, my torch went out and I didn’t know I was so close I-”

“Oh come on, darlin’, we both know you’re lying,” His smirk was evident in his voice, you didn’t need to see him to know it. Dread filled your body as the knife dug deeper into your skin, close to drawing blood, “You were here to get information.”

It wasn’t a question. He read you exactly as you’d been written, to your annoyance. Head spinning, your brain ran through a million different escape plans, filtering through the abstract and landed on one slightly plausible option - you just needed to keep him talking.

“You know our plan, don’t you?” You hurried out, thinking on the spot of an excuse to keep him talking, some part of you hoping he’d spill something unknown to you, “Eret told you what we had planned, right? The tunnels we set up below your land?”

Silence fell for a moment, and your hand subtly edged towards the handle of the sword in your sheath.

“He told us you were falling apart. That Wilbur is losing his mind in there,” He uttered back, his grip on your waist tightening, to which your body pushed against him as an automatic response.

“He was a traitor. For the both of us. He planted the TNT in our walls and he fed you lies for weeks,” You spat back, your hand now successfully around the handle of your beloved sword.

“You don’t know anything about us. You know nothing of our intentions, of our plan. You hide away in your grounds and build stupid bunkers in your own city as if it’ll change anything, as if you’re ever going to win,” You froze. Dream had gloated about another traitor amongst your men, how someone you held dear was ready to rip your people down from the inside, and Sapnap had just told you exactly who it was. Only you and one other person knew of the bunker overlooking L’Manberg. Only you and Wilbur. Finally. Finally, you might have the upperhand.

In one quick motion, your hand ripped the sword from your belt, grabbing his arm and pulling it from you, flipping yourself around and holding your sword tip at the base of his neck. His reactions matched yours, his blade digging into the base of your throat.

The pair of you stood, face to face, at arms length, knives threatening each others skin, waiting for the other to make their move. Only now, for the first time, were you able to actually look at the man in front of you, the man who had killed off half your men with his pyrotechnics. Thick black hair protruding from a white cotton headband, eyes glimmering red in the dark moonlight. He was tall, taller than you had remembered him being, and his blood-stained, burnt white shirt clung to his body harshly. You couldn’t help but be fascinated by this man, especially after seeing the weathered, cold look in his eyes, wanting to know everything that got him to where he is now, and everything that is to come for him.

“It’s your move,” You muttered, keeping still to keep his blade from breaking your skin.

“You need to leave.”

His eyes hadn’t left yours, but yours wandered along the arm that held his sword, reaching the skin of his hand. Littered with scars and wounds, his hands were calloused and burnt, assumingly a product of his fascination of setting fire to your buildings. A particular scar caught your eye, however, dragging from the tip of his thumb, to the base of his wrist - an identical scar to one you had gained whilst fighting on a rivers edge one day, slicing your hand open on a rock. Curiously, your eyes scanned his hand for any others, surely enough landing on the same scar you had on the back of your hand from an accidental stab wound from Tommy.

Dread filled your stomach as you took in the similarities of your skin, only to be ripped by your thoughts as his blade slid up to your chin, leaving an open wound in its wake. You winced, the immediate sting hitting you as you feel the blood begin to weap. The wound was surface level, nothing to worry about, but enough to cause your knees to buckle slightly.

“Look at me,” Your eyes darted to his cold stare and the rest of his voice was filtered out of your mind as you stayed fixated on the red, bleeding line that peeked on his skin, surfacing above his black turtleneck.

Mind clouded, you lowered your sword, hand on his arm to move his out the way as you stepped towards him. Hesitant at first, Sapnap’s body froze up as he tried to understand your plan, run through the possibilities of what the hell you might be doing. As you raised his hand to him, almost like you would a dangerous animal, to show you were no threat, he made no attempt to stop you. You reached for his neck, pulling his shirt down slowly and eyes widening at the dark crimson, tender, fresh scar that ran up his throat, identical to the open wound on your own.

For the first time, you were close, not just in proximity. Sapnap’s hand darted to his neck, feeling the rising bump of the newly-forming scar and his eyes met yours, a realisation hitting the both of you. Neither of you had noticed how close you had gotten, and for the first time, he saw you. Not his opponent, not his enemy, just you. A person, with glimmering eyes staring back at him and soft, yet scarred skin that he felt the sudden urge to touch. Something in his mind had always blocked out the possibility of a soulmate, convincing himself he was impossible to love, undetermined to find his person.

But here you were, the only person he could never have.

“You need to leave. Go home.” He spoke quickly, pulling his eyes from yours in fear of never wanting to see anything but that colour again.

“But, Sapnap,” Your voice was hushed but desperate, “We can’t just, I mean, what do we do?”

“Go. Now.” Voice stern and meaningful, he pulled his sword back into his belt and stepped away from you, pulling a lighter from his pocket to light his way home, “And tell no one of this. You were never here, Y/N.”

Not letting you say another word, he stepped back into the darkness of the trees, and you could only watch as the gentle hum of his light faded out of view. Stunned, it felt like your feet were sinking into the dirt below you, unable to move as the overwhelming blow of meeting your soulmate for the first time flooded you, the realisation that it was your sworn enemy, the man you had fought for years alongside your family.

It wasn’t until you heard the guards above you alert each other to what they think is a person in the woods below that you picked your feet up and moved, running back towards home at a pace you didn’t even realise possible, the numbness filling you.

But it was too late to think of that now. As daylight stretched itself over the vastness above and smoke filled the air, screams and cries surrounding you as you pushed yourself to your feet, sword in hand as the ache of your body watched over the battlefield in front of you. It had all happened so quickly. At one moment, you had won. Dream was dead and others surrendered, and the next thing you know, L’Manberg, the country you owed your life to, you had grown and lived in for so long, was in flames, and Wilbur was dead. He had done it. You were right, he was the traitor. He blew up and destroyed the one thing you had dedicated your life to protecting, and now he was dead. Gone.

Hearing the screams of the Wither, the explosions destroying innocence only meters from you, you did the only thing your brain had the capacity to comprehend. You ran. You picked a direction, and you ran. Faster than your legs could carry you, much like the night before except this time, you had no idea where you were heading. In fact, you didn’t even have anywhere to head, it was all gone.

It wasn’t until you reached a river too wide to cross on your own, did you stop. Falling to your knees as they buckled beneath you. Holding yourself together, you looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings and tried to make sense of it all. Your friend was dead, many other lives being stolen from either side, even Dream himself losing a life at the hands of yourself.

A twig snapped not far from you, and your body jumped, snapping to its direction, already on high alert. What stood there, feet from you, was the last thing you expected. A war-torn, blood covered Sapnap towered by the edge of the forest, open wound on his head and chest heaving as he’d been running like you.

No words were said, there was a look of understanding between you both. Without a second thought, you were in his arms, sobbing and letting your body purge itself of the grief and stress you faced just moments ago on the remains of your home. His chest stuttered as he let out a quiet sob, tears falling for his friends who has lost their lives in the same battle.

Gripping each other tightly, you felt in his arms that it was right. That he was right. That his touch was holding you together, even as you fell apart. Hand in your hair, he held you tightly into his chest, a mirrors image flipped of not even 24 hours ago, when your back was flush against where your tears stained now.

He didn’t know why he was here, he didn’t know why he followed you. He saw you flee and his heart told him before his brain did to follow you.

“What the fuck do we do, Sapnap?” You sobbed, shaking in his arms.

“I- I don’t know, Y/N,” His voice was shaky, much softer than the night before and far, far more caring.

“I want to leave, I don’t want to go back. I can’t,” You breathed, your knees growing weak as the grief hit you.

“We don’t have to stay,” He started, his hand coming up to pull your chin from his chest, meeting his gaze. The look in your eyes made his heart yearn, wanting to rip the sadness from your body bit by bit until it was absent, “We’ll go, there’s nothing for us back there anymore. We’ll find somewhere, just us two.”

It was always said, in old wives tales, that once you found your soulmate, you knew it was exactly what you needed. It felt like a warm fireplace after a long expedition in the snow, like a sip of water after years of thirst. It felt like happiness, like safety and comfort. That’s how his words felt, like picking a book up in the middle of its pages and knowing exactly where you left off.

“I’ll be here, Y/N, always,” He whispered softly, bringing your head back into the warmth of his chest, “You don’t have to fight anymore.”

[blimbo-buddy]

The cruel reality of wanting kittypet lore to be as extensive as warrior lore.

Thank goodness you exist though! You make better lore for these housecats than the warriors ever did.

One of my kittypet lore and little idea for Kittypet Kingdom is that house cats worship the sun and the sky while in contrast to warriors worshipping the stars and the moon for their ancestors.

The kittypets are innovators. They followed behind man and their inventions and were treated as traitors for adapting and moving on.

That would give more of a reason to kittypet and clan cat xenophobia. Kittypets are underestimated for choosing the easy life, but they have resources. They have the smarts and ingenuity to make the impossibility into reality.

*flipping through pages my own lore*

I made Kittypets discover how to use fire and make torches. How to catch fireflies and create light sources and, more importantly, how to hide their scents and hide away, considering how clan cats are so reliant on their sense of smell, why not mess with them and use it against them?

What do you think? I think I can call myself Kittypet Enjoyer #2 lol

Ah man, thanks dude! I'm glad that my Kittypet stuff stands out a lot!

With a series that is specifically centered around this outside group of cats aka the clans, it's no wonder that the Kittypets (Or any non-clan group) never get much lore. But, that doesn't mean that you can't be a tad bit disappointed over how little everything else is built upon.

I really like the worship that you have in Kittypet Kingdom! I think it's also interesting that the sky is what gives home to the stars, the sun is what gives the moon it's shine, without them, the stars and moon would be nothing. Kittypets worship the sky and sun while the Clans worship the stars and moon. Lots of interesting symbolism within this idea alone!

It also makes a ton of sense for the Kittypets/General Twolegplace cats to be genius innovators, when you're around humans all the time for that long, you start to mimic what they do and you learn knowledge that was previously thought to be exclusive to humans. You also bring up an interesting idea/point that the clans do not like them for this, it really hammers in the fact that the clans are stuck in the past, stuck in their own stubborn and hurtful minds that they see anything new as being treacherous and "against the code/will of starclan". The clan cats see it as a reason to hate them, but we see it as an insight into how unwilling they are towards change.

And that totally makes a lot of sense with how Kittypets learnt how to use fire+craft torches! Again, they're around humans all the time, so how could they not gain some type of knowledge in something that the clans are so deathly afraid of? I love the idea of them catching fireflies for light sources, it's such a fun concept and admittedly, I like the idea of the clans seeing that and thinking "Hm. That's our idea now". The stuff with Twolegplace cats hiding and messing with scents is a really well thought out idea, this also gave me an idea that Twolegplace cats will sometimes mess with how they smell, sometimes they might roll around in a place where a dog may have sat/slept to confused a clan cat, possibly even scare them away so that they aren't bothered when venturing into the forest territories.

I really, really enjoy these ideas a ton! They provide something really fascinating and adds onto the table scraps of info/culture we get of Twolegplace, all of them. I'd say you earned that goddamn title of Kittypet Enjoyer #2!

[that-one-i-think]

I am bored and playing starbound so time to write some novakid lore! Lore dump under the read more!

- Novakids do actually have faces, it us just under their brands.

- Their brands act as a sort of temperature stabilizer, as novakids are a species made of hard light and energy, they can get HOT! Think of getting angry but the angrier you get the more of the floor you are standing on melts.

- Novakids can actually age out of needing a brand, as once they are past the teenager stage they normally have a better control of their emotions. A lot of Novakids still wear them because they look neat, cultural significance, makes them identifiable, and the majority of novakids who interact with other races wear them as a precaution. Don't want to get into a tussle and suddenly you are setting a floran ablaze.

- Novakid faces are normally rather human in look, but depending on the species they are raised around, it can take on similar features. Some novakids raised around hylotls will in incredibly rare cases be seen with a third eye or false gills. Some novakid even have stubble or "hot spots" that look like human facial hair.

- Novakids forms are also a bit loose and gender doesn't necessarily mean anything to them. They can technically change their gender at will, but most of the time no one really cares as it is a process that requires a lot of focus. Novakids take a person's identity seriously though

- Procreation in Novakids is actually very similar to any mammalian species. One side impregnated the other with the only difference being the fact that either side can technically do either job. Novakid pregnancies also last a year or a full star cycle and a stabilizer cannot be worn at this time. It is why Novakids are very protective of parents and kids as they are very vulnerable at this time.

- Novakids are made of solid energy and are kind of similar to a lava lamp. Having a touchable layer. Think of the glass frogs. Novakids while being able to get wet since it won't actually put them out, just don't like to because as a glowing thing in water, they attract predators.

- Novakids, being made of pure energy, will sometimes sacrifice a limb in dire situations to release a mass output of energy. Whether it be to supercharge a ship or as a last ditch effort to kill an enemy. Like lizards who amputate their tails. Some novakids will fully blow themselves up to take down entire ships. Though, the older they are the less the energy and natural novakid death is them fading into lights like brightly colored fireflies.

- They scar white and blue, and their blood is naturally a bright blue. Think of the blue flame of torches, it is can actually be hot as well but not burning. It has a similar taste to cinnamon whiskey and floran use it to get drunk. Some novakids will purposely carry a vial of their blood for this purpose. SHOTS

- Florans and Novakids are actually rather close species, as Novakids will allow florans to photosynthesise with their light. Novakids like florans because they don't beat around the bush, no pun intended.

-Despite popular belief, Novakids do have a rich history, it is just entirely oratory. Novakids never had a writing system but had a vast music system. If you meet a Novakid that can't sing or play an instrument, then you met an imposter. (Also, a lot of Novakids just can't read.)

-Hylotl scholars have been working with novakids to write down all of their stories and songs. Very mutually beneficial because Novakids like performing and the Hylotl like the arts.

- Novakids can get along with most other races but are not particularly fond of the Apex. They are too rigid and militaristic for their liking.

- Novakids have no real origin story though, they are dated to have appeared around the time the cultivator and the ruin fought but nothing other than that. Novakids have no origin story as they just all say they kind of appeared. Pisses historians OFF

- Novakid society is very justice orientated, with their biggest job export other than bard being bounty hunters. If you harm a child or kill someone in cold blood, then you might just have a novakid on your tail. Not uncommon for some novakids to take up revenge jobs for free if the persons cause was meaningful enough.

- Novakids are incredibly protective of children as well. Children are incredibly unstable, and before the use of brands, they had high mortality rates, so harming a child can be worse than killing a man in their society. A lot of mixed planets tell their children to find a Novakid if they are ever lost or in danger. (They also make incredible babysitters. Not the safest babysitter but definitely fun ones. The kid is gonna learn how to use a gun)

- Novakids have a deadly fear or a general unnerving feeling around any form of tentacles. Weird evolutionary thing that no one can really place.

- Despite not having a written language Novakids can read writing in ANCIENT temples dating to the cultivator Era. Why a lot of Hylotl hire them to explore dungeons.

- Last but not least: Novakids sound southern because the translator is based on human approximation, and Novakids leaned into it for aesthetic purposes.

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sliding Into Home ~ You Were Enough; You Are Everything

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, eventual smut, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Are You Sure We Aren't Going Crazy

Main Masterlist ~Sliding Into Home Masterlist

It's never easy, staring over somewhere. New town, new people, new life. It's what Frank had been hoping for with the move to LA.  

Not that he would see the love of his life working in the same place. Holding the hand of his former best friend.  No, this was not the life he was imagining.  As he pulled in for his first team meeting a few days later, he tries to shake the feeling of despair. He needed to be focused as he was meeting his teammates for the first time.  

Walking in, he’s met by the general manager, Todd Phelps. “Morning Frank.”  

“Morning, Mr. Phelps.” He shakes hands with the man.  

“Please, call me Todd.  Let me show you around.”  He walked him though the lobby of the offices. “Staff offices, including mine, are here, next level down is the gym and locker room.” He walked towards the double doors and into the space of the Dodgers’ locker room.  Frank walked around, taking in the light wood color of the cubbies, the chairs a neutral color.  It balances well with all of the Dodger blue that exists.  

“This one is yours,” Todd points out.  Frank is in between a J Storm and C Bellinger. He nodded at Todd. “Ok, this way to the team video room.” The noise level increased as they got closer, and Frank took a breath.  

“Alright gentlemen, listen up,” Todd yelled into the room, quieting them. “This is Frank Adler, our new first baseman from Boston.  I want you guys to introduce yourselves as we get this practice going. The preseason will be moving to Arizona as usual but I wanted to start here just so we can blend better. Let's get on the field and warm up.”  

All the men went to change, and Frank went to his locker to see his training uniform.  He sighed.  

“It’s daunting, isn’t?” 

Frank looked at the man standing next to him. Shaved blonde hair, blue eyes, popping gum in his mouth. “Kinda,” he replied.  “Frank Adler,” he offered his hand.  

“Johnny Storm, pitcher.  People call me the Human Torch, you know, cause of the fastball.”  Johnny smiled cockily. “And I know you have one of the fastest gloves in baseball.”  

“True,” Frank smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”  He started to change.  

“Now, Adler, you single?” Johnny looked at his hands.  “No ring.”  

“Yeah, single but not looking.  Have my niece to look after.”  

“You’d make a good wingman,” Johnny shrugged. “Cody usually went with me but now he’s engaged or whatever and I need a wingman.”  

“Do you not have a filter, Torch?” 

“Nope.”  Johnny laughed.  “C’mon, I’ll jog with ya and we can get warmed up.”  

Practice is practice and Frank hits the showers, ready to go to dinner with Mary and Scott.  The California sun in February is still soft but it still burned a little.  Frank contemplates drowning himself. Johnny wouldn’t shut up, but he was a good distraction from his thoughts.  Thoughts of the genius brunette in the front office, his Cricket.  He shook his head.  No, she was with someone else now. Even if he hated the guy, he would never interfere with her relationship because he had done enough damage in his own.  

Thankfully, Johnny had left by the time Frank got out to get dressed.  He left his number for him, which Frank slipped into his bag as he left.  He was adjusting his watch before he bumped into someone.  “God, sorry. “ 

“It’s ok,” a small voice replied.  Frank looked at the person.  Abby.  

“I’m sorry Dr. Hernandez.”  He stepped around her to leave.  

“Can we talk, Frank?” Abby chewed her lip.  

Frank’s brows shot up as her request. He looked at his watch. “Uh, yeah, sure, I have some time.”  Abby turned and walked towards her office.  Frank followed. It was quiet in the offices.  As he walked into her office, Frank took an appraisal of it.  “You made it,” he said.  

“I guess so,” she replied, setting her files down on her desk but not sitting.  She leaned against the bookcase behind it as Frank stood on the other side.  

“What did you want to talk about Cricket?” 

She glared at him. “Don’t call me that Frank.”  

“Sorry,” he looked down, “force of habit.”  

“Its ok.” Her expression softened.  “I... I just wanted to see how you really are with the move and everything.”  

“We’re fine. Mary is getting used to school.  She started a couple of days ago.” He rubbed his neck.  “Scott is getting the house set up for us while she’s there and then looking for stuff to do.”  

“Scott?” 

“Oh, yeah, he’s our nanny.  Well, he’s also my best friend, since...” he stopped.  

“Oh.” Abby wasn’t sure what she felt, hearing that Frank’s nanny was a man.  Was it relief?  She shook it off.  “So, Mary is getting used to California?” 

Frank studied her, unable to stop the word vomit. “Why do you care Abby? You left her.”  

Abby blinked back. “You forced me to.”  

“I didn’t force you to do anything Abigail. I tried to tell you that nothing happened, but of course other people got in your head.”  

“Mike had nothing to do with...” 

“I didn’t say it was Mike.  But that’s interesting, thanks.” Frank crossed his arms. “You didn’t even give me a chance to explain. Three years together, 10 years of friendship and you believed Mike over me.” 

“I saw the photos, Francis!” 

“The photos weren’t the whole story, Abigail!” 

Five years ago... 

Abby was furious.  She packed her bag with everything she would need right now, taking care to make sure her mother’s necklace and her grandmother’s ring were with her. Her mind was running wild. Was she not enough? Was Mike right, that Frank didn’t get enough at home? She could feel the tears threatening to run down her face as she remembers the photos. Photos of her boyfriend of three years asleep next to someone that wasn’t her.  She bit her lip in an effort to stop the losing battle. Frank stood in the doorway, watching her as she packed.  

“Cricket, please, talk to me. Don’t leave.”  

“No.”  

“Baby, please. Nothing...” 

“Don’t say nothing happened Frank! Don’t lie to me!” She rushed around the room.  In the home that she and Frank had built for their family. For Mary.  

“I know it looks bad but...” 

“What? What can you possibly say to make it better.  Sorry Cricket, but I slept with someone on accident. Do you think I am a fool?” She grabbed her textbooks. “Lies, our whole life has been a lie.”  

“It hasn’t Cricket. I’m not lying.  Please! Just give me a chance to explain.”  

“Fuck you, Frank. You probably wouldn’t have said anything if the pictures hadn’t come out.  If people hadn’t said things to me.” She stopped as her chest heaved, the fear of being less than spread across her chest.  “Am I not good enough?”  

Frank’s face fell. “What? Cricket, no...” 

“Is it because I’ve been so busy? We’ve been busy. Is that it? You asked me to move here, you said you wanted a life with me. To have an adventure...” 

Frank tried to pull her into his arms. “I do, Abby. I’m sorry.” She turned away and grabbed her bags.  “Please don’t go,” he dropped to his knees, “please Cricket, just give me a chance to explain.”  

“I’m sorry Frank but I can’t do this.”  

He threw out his last play. “What about Mary? You’re just gonna leave without telling her anything?” 

Abby turned at the door. “You’re a good liar.  Make something up.”  

Frank watched as the door slammed shut.  

“You never gave me a chance. I tried so hard to get you to listen.” Frank looked at his feet. “But I never stopped loving you, Cricket. Even with how mad you are, were, I never stopped. And I know that this is all my fault. I get that. I broke us because I will always call it a mistake for letting myself get into that situation. You were always enough.  You were everything. You are everything I wanted. I wanted to marry you.”  

Abby felt her lip wobble. “Frankie...”  

“No, just listen, ok? Yes, I would have told you. Steve, he got a statement from the woman, I don’t even know her name, but he took a statement, and she swore nothing happened.” He swallowed. “But I know I broke your trust and I have to live with that.  I lost you and I lost myself for a long time.” He could feel the emotions beginning to bubble up on him. “I’m not asking for you to forgive me, but I will tell you that I am sorry. I’ll be sorry every day.” 

He turned for the door but stopped. He looked at the woman he loved that he stilled loves, and watched as a single tear ran down her beautiful face. “I still love you Cricket, but I won’t interfere with your relationship or your life. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy for you.”  

Abby sobbed and hugged herself. It was all too much. She missed Frank so much. And he was here in front of her, telling her it was ok to be happy without him. But could she? Could she be happy without the man who made her whole world feel complete. “Frankie, I’m sorry too,” she cried.  

Frank strode back over and took her into his arms.  “Its ok Cricket.” He held her tight as she cried. Then he felt it. The ring cutting into his chest.  He pulled back and took her left hand. “I guess he makes you happy.”  

Abby had no words. She pulled back and twisted the ring on her finger.  

“He always wanted a chance.” Frank shook his head. “I guess he won,” he whispered. “I’ll see you around Cricket.” He kissed her forehead and walked away 

Eight Years Before... the night before the draft.   “I’m so nervous I can’t sleep.”   “Frankie, you need to rest.  Gotta look good for the camera. Come, laid down with me.” Abby patted next to the bed.    Frank went to lay down next to her. “Do you think someone will pick me up?”  “I have no doubt about that Frankie.  You’re too talented to pass up.”  Abby took his hand and turned her head towards him.   Frank watched her for a moment. He needed to say this, needed to let her know how he felt.  It had been seven years since they became friends, but Frank knew he wanted more. He wanted her; wanted her to be his forever. It was now or never.   “Will you go with me Cricket? Wherever they take me?” His eyes held out hope.   Abby frowned. Why was Frank being so weird? “You want me to go with you? Frank, I’m still in university. I’m studying for the MCATs and...”  “I know,” he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  “But I don’t want to do this adventure without you.”   Abby stared into Frank’s eyes, trying to get a read on him. But all she could see was hope, love and for a flash of a second, desire. She swallowed, scared of her next question. “What are you saying?”  Frank stared right back.  He couldn’t put into words how he felt.  So, he showed her.  He leaned in and kissed her gently on her soft, pouty lips. When he pulled back, her eyes were still closed. “Open them, Cricket.” She blinked open and Frank smiled.  “I’m saying that it was always you. You’re the one I want to have all my future adventures with.”   “Really?” Abby’s heart leapt up into her throat. She had been in love with Frank since that fateful meeting in school. He was her best friend. But he was always something more. And now, now it was the chance to find out if her future really was with him.  “Really Cricket.  Whaddyasay? Take my hand and go on this adventure with me?”  She took his hand and smiled.   “To the next adventure.”  

NEXT

Taglist:

@patzammit @slutforchrisjamalevans @firephotogrl74 @texmexdarling @jennmurawski13-writes @before-we-get-started @tinkerbelle67 @bunnyforhim

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

Bats and Dragons

(Finally here’s the continuation of the Firefly Fairy AU. I don’t know why, but writing has been more difficult lately, lmao. Hope I don’t get burnout.

Sorry it’s so short with not much going on!)

Count: 2205

Lilia was the name of the Fae I was brought to, or at least the name I heard when I was TELEPORTED out of the stomach belonging to the Fae that found me, blinking in the dim green glow of a stone room whilst in a black-gloved hand. When my vision focused enough after a moment, I noticed a Fae that was far smaller than the one I’d crashed into who looked even more human. Nowhere near as small as I, but it was noticeable.

If it weren’t for the pointed tips of their ears or the wine-red eyes that were signature-ly reminiscent of a felines currently looking at me with a look of shock, they’d be able to pass as human under the weird glow of green torches. Granted, a human with pink streaks in his hair, but almost human nonetheless.

“Wha- MAL-?!” the Fae, Lilia, started to exclaim, but the nameless Fae holding me interrupted them.

“I came across this injured fairy during my walk,” he said, extending his hand out slightly towards the other. “They fell from the canopy with a broken wing and iron burns that I could not fully heal.”

I couldn’t help but twitch anxiously as Lilia glanced between the larger Fae and I while he spoke, his eyes widening even further at hearing about my previous injuries. Current injuries? Either way, while they weren’t as bad as before I could feel each burn send a jolt of discomfort that threatened to break into outright pain once more past the numbing spell that the other Fae placed on me when I shifted ever so slightly.

“Iron burns?!” Lilia exclaimed, raising his own hands to cup beside the other Fae’s, who tilted his hands as though to deposit me in the palms of this ‘Lilia’.

Like before, my insectoid limbs gripped the black fabric of the Fae’s gloves unintentionally and I made no move to unstick myself as anxiety caused me to hesitate instinctively and my tail glowed dimly. Despite the help from the larger Fae and knowing the iron burns couldn’t heal properly on their own, I still didn’t want to be passed off to another unknown after the evening of stress and panic.

“Oh, come now, I don’t bite,” Lilia said, trying to be light-heartedly reassuring, though he was obviously tense. “I need to look you over and you can tell me what happened.”

Considering I’d just been eaten, I was pretty sure that worry was very low on my priorities right now. Frowning in indecision, I opened my mouth to respond but the larger Fae beat me to it.

“Little fairy,” the voice of the larger Fae made me wince at what my body perceived as a sudden noise. Antennae twitching, I nervously looked up at his neon eyes. “In order to treat your injuries, I must hand you off to Lilia. I assure you, you’ll be in safe hands.”

“Where are you going,” I asked, feeling my heart skip a beat at the thought of being left alone with a complete stranger and one of my hands held onto one of the gloved fingers near me. I mean, I didn’t even know this Fae’s name in comparison to knowing Lilia’s, but I was feeling skittish after my encounter with the humans and he seemed like a decent Fae. Something my rattled nerves wanted to cling onto.

A look of surprise and confusion crossed the Fae’s face, something that equally confused me. Then again, if I came across an even smaller fairy and they were refusing to leave my hold, I guess I’d also be unsure of what to do.

“If it makes you feel better, he’s more than welcome to accompany you,” Lilia spoke up before the Fae holding me could respond, catching my attention once more. I noticed his eyes glance up to the Fae’s holding me, but I was more focused on mulling over his words.

An antennae twitched as I thought for a moment, nodding after a second and replying, “I would appreciate that.”

“Good! Now, the nearest study should work well enough to get a good look at you so I can assess the damage from these… iron burns,” Lilia said, attempts to keep lighthearted ruined by the obvious question on his mind of where the burns came from. Not as startled as before, I answered the unspoken question, knowing that the longer it went unaddressed, the longer the humans could be setting more traps or causing more harm.

“It was humans, by the warding stones,” I quickly explained, feeling the hands beneath me tense and saw Lilia’s eyes widen. A dark expression crossed his face and I noticed his fingers twitch as though about to grasp at something. Once a moment passed, it was almost like nothing had happened, but his eyes were hardened. I forced myself to continue. “They were setting iron traps, and it sounded like they’d successfully caught at least one other Fae.”

“What direction?”

“I-. Don’t know where in comparison to where I was found, but it was Southwest of my home,” I replied, trying to think of other landmarks so I could be as concise and accurate as possible. Something about this Lilia was giving me the impression that not doing so was ill-advised. “Near where the hills give way to bird cherry trees and willows, South of the Winding Creek.”

“How many,” Lilia asked, lifting a hand and turning it palmside up. A red hue began to glow around his pale hand.

“I only saw two, but there could be more.”

“LILIA.” The Fae holding me said the other’s name in a warning tone, a glance upwards showing me that he had a look of restrained concern, brow furrowed.

“Worry not,” the smaller Fae replied, closing his eyes for a moment and inhaling.

When they opened, his demeanor no longer seemed as stiff and an almost smug grin curled on his face as his hand let out a burst of dark red magic. It swirled and reformed above his palm as a bat. He raised it to his lips and whispered something before throwing his hand up. The bat took flight and dissipated into a wisp of dark red magic that streamlined down the hall around the corner where it disappeared.

“I won’t deal with them myself. For now,” Lilia smiled mischievously. Looking at me, he added, “The humans will be dealt with in time. For now, I need to fix you up before that numbing spell wears off.”

He turned and began to walk down the hall towards what I assumed to be the nearest study like he’d suggested before, the Fae holding me letting out a huff and following behind.

As the duo walked, I couldn’t help but look around in a bit of fascination and curiosity. If it wasn’t for my burnt wings and exhaustion, I would have loved to flit about the rather expansive looking halls to look into every nook and cranny I could. It was certainly the largest structure I’d been inside, but these were also some of the larger Fae that I’d met. It’d make sense that they required equally large accommodations.

I didn’t realize until we entered a rather fancy looking room that both of the Fae had been talking, presumably about my appearance from what I tuned into.

“-from the sky and bounced off of one of my horns,” the larger Fae recounted, following the smaller to the desk at the back of the room that looked to be made of some kind of mahogany. “I was rather caught off guard and surprised to find a fairy on the ground mere paces from me. I grew concerned when I realized that the wounds were from iron, and you’re one of the few that I know of that can actually heal burns of that kind.”

“Well,” Lilia hummed as he stepped around the other side of the desk, the larger Fae stopping in front. He patted the surface of the desk gently and this time I let myself slide off onto the wooden surface when the black-gloved hands beneath me tilted. “I’m at least relieved that you were around to help, even coincidentally. I’m going to look you over, understood?”

It took me a second to realize he was talking to me. A bit - well, more than a bit - drained, I just nodded my consent, the red-eyed Fae nodding back in satisfaction. As he carefully brought his hands closer, I stiffened and resisted the urge to shift away, flaring my wings to allow him full view.

“Now, if it’s not too much for you, could you tell us what happened exactly and how you managed to get away,” the larger Fae asked from behind me.

I really didn’t feel like going through it, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep despite the hour basically being my morning. But, with a moment to steel myself and a small sigh, I nodded and replied, “Y-Yes. Yes, I can do that.”

For the next few minutes, I told the other two Fae about how I’d been out gathering and found myself wandering to the warding stones out of curiosity, leading me to the human trap and I only managed to get away due to my small stature. Lilia spent the time carefully looking over my limbs and wings, each touch causing me to flinch on instinct as I expected the numbing spell to give way and each motion to light up my burns with unbearable pain.

“- and when my wings gave out and I fell, I thought I’d fallen near another human until I saw your horns and eyes,” I finished, shuddering at the thought of what could have happened if he HAD been another human. “If it weren’t for the burns, I likely would have fainted to relief that you were another Fae.”

“Trapping fairies,” Lilia growled under his breath, his touch still gentle. His hands began to glow the same dark red hue as before and I jolted at the sudden surge of magic that ran through my body. When he pulled away, I realized the red glow had transferred to myself, the burns across my body starting to fade painlessly.

“To what end?” the larger Fae looked equally displeased, raising a hand to his chin in thought.

“Whatever the goal, if they’re not stopped and the missing Fae aren’t brought back, we may have little choice but another war,” Lilia replied, shaking his head and causing bi-colored strands of hair to sway on either side of this face. He looked almost aged at his own words, sighing. “But, we must remain optimistic for now. I’m loath to think that our borders would be bested by a pair of humans, no matter what humans they are.”

Sat on the desk, now fully healed as I looked my now fixed wings over, I felt like this conversation was far too serious for either my interest or my aptitudes. Without the overhead worry of humans or injuries, I found it easier to slip into a more polite ideal.

“I thank both of you for your assistance and compassion,” I said, standing up. I nearly swayed but prevented myself from doing so, simply wishing to go home and rest. “But I believe I must depart and get out of your wings… er, hair, I suppose.”

“Of course,” the larger Fae nodded in understanding, offering a hand. “Now that there’s no wounds to worry about, I can return you to-.”

“Nonsense!” Lilia exclaimed, catching both of our attention as he placed his hands on his hips. “You’ve suffered an ordeal and need to rest, nocturnal or not. You’re more than welcome to stay in one of the many guest rooms until dawn… Oh, dear me, I don’t believe I caught your name.”

He suddenly seemed a bit caught off guard at realizing he didn’t know my name, but I couldn’t help but laugh slightly with a  tired chitter.

“I never gave it. Introductions seemed last on all our minds,” I replied, placing one of my four hands on my chest and adding, “You may call me Rain. And who am I to thank for my survival tonight?”

I purposefully didn’t mention his name out of politeness in case he wished to be called something else by me. After all, names were rather important to Fae and wording mattered.

“You may call me Lilia,” he introduced himself right back with a smile and raised a hand towards the larger Fae. “And you may-.”

“You may call me a name of your choosing,” the larger Fae replied, startling both of us. Lilia recovered fairly quickly while I’d never heard of such a request before.

“Are you certain,” I asked, tilting my head. I didn’t want to pick something that could potentially upset the larger Fae.

“Indeed, I am,” the larger Fae nodded, smiling in slight amusement. “I’m interested to hear what you pick, firefly fairy.”

“Rain,” I gently corrected, though there had been no malice behind his words. Thinking for a few moments, I closed my eyes for a second before opening them and declared, “I shall call you An Ré, like the moon.”

[trckstaer]

˖ ࣪⭑ Summertime, My Chemical Romance : His whole body screamed in agony but the boy just about managed to bite down on the impulse to let it out. The lights had gone out, darkness swallowing up the warehouse in a cloak of tension that threatened to snap every time he hopped forward and dragged the dead weight of his other leg behind him. It had to be broken. That last guy who found him had been carrying a brick, taken Johnny by surprise as he struggled to dismantle whatever cheaply put-together bomb had been planted in the centre of the building.

A sound came from ahead and the Torch paused, eyes flitting upwards as if he would be able to see. With an amount of focus that was near impossible to summon with the pain radiating out from just above his knee, the teenager tried to burn — to create light of his own — but only succeeded in a soft glow emanating from his skin life a warm beacon. He called out tentatively, swallowing, ' Lovebug ? '

— @lvebug : Spotify Wrapped Meme !

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 5: The Young Elf

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 3.1k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ you work to recover from the previous night of celebration and meet a new patient in the sick hall.

Your vision was blurry upon opening your eyes. You felt your brain being pounded within your skull and your body ached. You let out a soft whine and rolled over in your bed, the soft sheets offering little comfort. The room was still fairly dark, with only a few candles lit. The memories of the night prior were hazy. You remember going to the party, but soon after your second drink, it all became incomprehensible. It was all a haze of music, candlelight, and dance. 

It must have taken you an hour to will yourself out of bed, the only motivation being a pitcher of water that was placed all the way in the living space. It had forced you to get out of bed all so you could quench your thirst. You found yourself sitting on one of the couches, nursing a cup of water when Amara and Liriel skipped into the room. 

They wore happy faces and presented no visible signs of wear from the party. It was as if they did not drink and dance heavily, but rather got a full night of rest. It was likely due to their experience - who knows how many times they had done that in their lives. 

“Good morrow, dear friend.” Amara sang happily while opening the curtains to your room. The light from torches and fireflies outside - which happened to be surprisingly bright - invaded your room. You could do nothing but grunt in response and hold a hand out to block the light from your eyes. 

“Well, you are taking it surprisingly better than I thought,” Liriel stated as she placed a tray of food on the table, “For the amount that you drank, I was sure you would be on the brink of death.” 

“Really?” You responded with a thick coat of sarcasm. It felt like you were dead already. You reached out and grabbed a slice of bread. It was an elvish bread and you had come to deeply love them over your stay. The emptiness in your stomach hurt and you were glad to eat. 

“Get some food in you and you’ll be better. You’re the talk of the castle today.” At Amara’s words, you dropped the piece of bread and looked at her with alertness in your eyes. 

“Please tell me I did not do anything stupid or embarrassing.” You crossed your fingers in a silent prayer. It would be awful if you had done anything bad, as your actions may be taken to represent all humans. You did not want to carry the weight of the image of humanity in front of such esteemed beings. 

“Not bad, on the contrary. Everyone is praising your ability to handle elven wine. It is an impressive feat.” Amara reassured you. 

You raised one brow before gesturing to your slumped body, “Does this look like someone who is handling it well?” 

“Oh, be thankful they are speaking highly of you.” Liriel laughed as she began to look through your wardrobe. 

“I’d much rather have my work praised, than my ability to handle my cups.” You reasoned as you ate a few more pieces of fruit. Amara had gone to your vanity to select jewelry. 

“Then you best get ready for the day.” Liriel turned around with a dress in her grasp and laid it out on the settee in front of you. Your eyes trailed over the light sage fabric. It had a silk underside with some sort of tulle layering on top. It looked like the dress you had worn on your first day there, but a much better colour. You gave Liriel a gracious smile at her selection and rose to your feet to change.

You had hoped to gain your bearings before leaving your room. However, after leaving, you had only just begun to feel better. The pounding in your head had subsided, but the aches in your joints from the hours of dancing still affected you. Your footsteps echoed across the stone hall as two guards escorted you through the caste. Before your morning rounds with the patients, you had to pick up some books from the library that you found the other day. The guards opened the doors and allowed you to enter without their presence. 

You were so wrapped up in your task and struggling to recover from your night that you failed to notice the figure sitting at one of the tables, flipping through a large ornate book. You walked past them while rubbing your eyes. Once at the shelf you needed, you grabbed the three books and stacked them in your arms. Their weight felt heavier than you expected, but you recovered easily and moved to turn back. Your gaze swept across the wide-ranging room before it settled on a body in a seat. His back was to you and facing the entrance door. 

His long silver hair draped pin straight down his back and you could see the top half tied up. A familiar strap of leather banded around his head, which you knew belonged to his eyepatch. His back was broad and he had on a leather tunic dyed a rich dark green. His sword was strapped to his side and rested on the bench with him. You cursed yourself for having such luck. Out of all of the libraries in this castle, Aemond had to choose the one that happened to be right next to your study. Of course your luck would be so rotten.  

You took in a breath. Perhaps you could quietly make your way out of the library. You did not wish to disturb the king in whatever task he was enraptured with. Your hold on the books tightened as you moved to swiftly and quietly vacate the area. You passed by him with your gaze down on the floor. 

Lately, however, your victories seemed to be short-lived. 

“Do you think you are here to drink your weight in wine?” His smooth voice drawled out right as you had managed to reach up for the door handle. Your fingers squeezed the air in a desperate attempt to calm yourself. You spun on your heels, only to regret it immediately by the temporary loss of vision. The ache in your head returned. Aemond sat a few metres in front of you. He was staring down at the pages of parchment below him. His agile fingers swept at the page and turned it. 

“No, your grace. I was simply being cordial, having been invited to it by his grace Prince Ageon.” You defended. It was true, Aegon extended a branch your way and you decided to seize it. You had not planned to drink, but you were an incredibly curious person and succumbed to the curiosity of what their wine tasted like. 

“It is not a surprise Aegon would do that. Again, do not forget the task set forth on you.” Aemond had not bothered to spare you a single glance yet. His focus largely was on the book at his table. 

The ache in your head worsened and you wanted nothing but to escape, but you knew you had to be cordial to the king, “I am thankful for this opportunity and take it seriously. I will be here for a year, so I thought it best to forge friendships.” Your response seemed to elicit a dry chuckle from the elf. 

“Friends with…” He finally looked at you, piercing you with the intensity of his eye, “your kind? You are nothing more than an oddity to them right now, a silly little human way in over her head. As soon as they are bored of you, you will be nothing again. They have forgotten the threats your kind poses.” 

It was likely the effects of your aching body that caused you to stick up just slightly for yourself, “If I am nothing but a silly little human in over her head, what threat do I truly pose, your grace?” While your words had been aggressive, you coated them in the most flattering voice you could muster; the call of an innocent animal hiding their violence. 

Aemond regarded you for a moment as you stood there. You adjusted the weight of the books in your hands. He still was giving you a look that deeply unsettled you. You felt like a bug under his gaze, though you knew he would not treat you as gently as Helaena does to her insects. Aemond would not hesitate to squash you under his foot. 

“All humans are a threat.” His voice came out strained, edged with spite and some other unheard charge akin to a lament. You stood strong against the battering waves of his blue-eyed stare; the oceans within his iris in constant turbulence. You had no recourse for his words and could not choose a path to take. To your great relief, tinged with an ounce of disappointment, Aemond appeared unwilling to speak further. His attention went back to the book in front of him and you took that as an opportunity to leave. 

Why, out of all the libraries in this castle, did he choose the one by your work? 

His figure consumed your mind as you walked a short distance to the laboratory you shared with Daeron. Aemond was, in some ways, a walking contradiction to the stories you grew up with. There was truth in the mutterings of his immoral attitude and penchant for aggression. Yet, you had not seen any physical aggression so talked about. His paragon of brutality was unseen. 

Aemond was calm and calculating, his refrain from violence you had seen so far instilled a greater fear within. If he was like the stories - quick to barbarity - you could count on that predictability. It would be comforting in a sense, to place your bet on wanton aggression. Men, regardless of human or elf, could be counted on for that predictable nature. 

However, he had not shown you his hand in whatever game he was playing. In Aemond’s cunning sense, there was no predictability. It frightened you, to be at the mercy of nothing short of an enigma. You could not place a bet on what he will do and what he is capable of. Sure, you can rely on the stories, but they have already proven to ring with some semblance of inaccuracy. You began to doubt even your own memory. 

In your contemplation, you had dropped the books off in the laboratory and swung into the sick hall to make your rounds with the patients. You carried your notebook with you, along with a fitted bag at your waist to carry any small utility item that could be needed to help the sick elves. You had realized that elf physiology is surprisingly much like humans - minus the ability to live for multiple millenniums. 

You had begun your move through the rows of countless beds. At each one, you sat with the elf and recorded their symptoms to keep track of their progression. To the ones you were able to, you administered some pain relief. Unfortunately, for those who had been sick for long, no type of pain relief would do them any good. 

In your rounds, you moved to a bed with a new patient. It was a young elf. Though likely centuries old, she appeared as a child. Her hair was as golden as the light of the lanterns in the room, but oily from the relentless sweat caused by a fever. Her skin showed obvious signs of taint progression. Its glass-like appearance was underscored by intermingling cracks. Dark purple, near black, tint washed over the skin, with some areas more concentrated than others giving the appearance of bruises. 

She was the youngest you had seen in your time here. 

Something in you never even thought about the possibility of younger elves getting it. That was not a place your mind wandered to and you had gotten used to treating the older elves. Your heart ached at such a youthful being having their life slowly drained. 

You moved towards the bed to see her, “Hello,” You introduced yourself before standing next to her laying form, “I have not been granted the pleasure of meeting you yet.” You kept your voice kind and cheerful to ease the emotions of the young elf. The little girl slowly turned her head in your direction. Despite her weakened state, the girl looked cheerful. 

“I’m Lyra,” She paused to cough, “You’re a human.” Lyra’s voice was gentle, with notes that sounded like windchimes on a calm day. 

“Yes, I am. I’m here to help.” You sat at the edge of the bed and reached out for a bowl of water and a cloth. You moved the rag through the water and got rid of the excess water. The back of your hand rested on her forehead. Lyra was burning up. You laid the cloth down where your hand had been and she let out a breathless sigh of relief. 

“You look like an angel.” Lyra’s words were covered in the haze of a fever, but you took them to heart. This whole time, being surrounded by naturally beautiful beings, you had begun to feel worse about your appearance. There was something so pure and true when the words came from such an innocent child. 

“That is kind, especially from a girl as pretty as you.” You watched as the corners of Lyra’s mouth rose faintly. She was in obvious pain, but taking it with graceful strength. 

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Her question was so abrupt that it halted your movements as you tended to adjust the blanket over her. You paused, unsure of how to handle the situation. With all of your other patients, they understood their time was limited. The taint only spread to bodies through openings and you wondered what could have happened for a little elf such as Lyra to be infected. 

“I and the other healers are working towards a cure, you need not worry, darling.” While not a direct answer, it was sufficient enough to get Lyra to rest her head back down against her pillow and close her eyes. You backed away to allow her to sleep and went about aiding the other sick elves. 

During your rounds, your eyes kept wandering back to Lyra’s form. You were plagued with an even heavier burden. Your goal had been clear for many years, to find a cure. However, there was always an air of impersonality in your work. While the driving force had been to help people and carry on your father’s work, your motivation was still disconnected. The taint - other than destroying the lands of your kingdom - had never deeply affected you personally. 

With Lyra, you felt perhaps the same driving force your father did. He worked to help, but mainly to make sure you had a future. You saw that same sense of need to safeguard that future when looking into Lyra’s eyes. While old from a human perspective, she was a young elf who had barely begun her life. Your father wanted a future for you, you wish to provide the same for her. 

After a few hours of menial tasks in upkeep for the patients, you found yourself in the laboratory. In your hands was a simple vial, lilac and gleaming with specs of light. It was a newer version of your previous concoction that proved to be of little success. There was a hope - in fiddling with the ratios of ingredients - that it could be more effective than the last. 

You looked down upon a sample of taint kept in a glass case. It was a bundle of flowers and weeds that had lost their colour of life, covered in the black mould and goo so familiar. You tilted the vial in your hand and allowed a few drops to spill upon the sample. You took a step back and watched as nothing happened. Your eyebrows furrowed.

You were overcome with frustration and anger. The events of your stay, your inability to make progress, and the new added weight of the reality of lives on your shoulders caused you to boil over. You let out a grunt and slammed your firsts on the table. 

Just as you expressed your anger, Daeron strolled into the room. He saw your actions and raised his hands in feigned surrender. 

“Surely the table did not deserve such violence,” He joked. You glanced up at him and felt the ache in your hands from striking the wood so fiercely. You rubbed your knuckles and could see some skin was scratched off, but not enough to require any special attention. 

“I tried messing with the ratios of that last experiment. It did not make it any better, on the contrary.” You voiced. 

Daeron walked to where you stood and picked up the vial. He inspected it for a moment. “You tried, that is what matters. If it's any consolation, none of mine have been as successful as yours was.” He patted you on the shoulder and you sent him a look of appreciation. 

“Thank you, but I think I am going to spend the day doing more research.” You wanted to leave the laboratory. The walls felt like they were closing in on you and you could not bear to look at any more ingredients, vials, or damned samples of tainted nature. It was a curse, a plague on you. 

Daeron spoke, “Go on, I have some of my ideas to work on.” You backed away from the table and turned to your right to leave the room. Your hand gripped the wrought iron door handle with extra strength as you yanked it open and found yourself in the ever-familiar hallway. 

Despite being given the limited freedom of your room, laboratory, library, and sick hall, this place began to feel more and more like a prison. Your adventure into another area of the castle last night to attend the party was allowed, but you doubted your freedom could extend beyond that. 

You felt guilty, for thinking so negatively about a truly once-in-a-lifetime experience, but the whole castle felt like a gilded cage. It was beautiful, there was no denying that. This kingdom, with its connection to nature and elevated lifestyle, was beyond what you could dream of and served as a trap for you. On the one hand, you relished in the good parts, but on the other, you knew this would never be a home. 

You would never belong here. Your humanness, the mortality that came with it, will only be nothing but a blink in time for these people and their kingdom. Unless you found a cure, there would be nothing left but the faint memories of your form walking down these halls. Eventually, it would be lost to the annals of time. 

How fickle a human life was when compared to the immortality of nature.

Chapter 6: A Snake in the Garden Preview

Like a cloud blocking the sun, a body stood just behind your kneeled figure and blocked the light from the lanterns strung above. You ceased yourself from cutting a leaf from a plant and turned around. An elf stood, his eyes piercing you with simmering hatred. You recognized him from just a few short days prior. It was the same elf that had been walking beside Aemond when you passed him in the hall. His skin looked sunkissed, despite there being little sun that actually penetrated through the canopy of trees. His dark hair matched the darkness of the deep forest beyond the settled lands. 

He was altogether the embodiment of the elvish characteristic of beauty, but there was something wrong about the energy he gave off; it was almost predatorial.

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[crypttaphophobia]

I really need to start sharing my weird ass TOH au I have

It’s a very l o o s e The Last Of Us x The Owl House AU in basics like

Emperors Coven is now a Branch off of the Fireflies with completely f’d goals (thanks belos).

Belos wants to use the Cordyceps fungus to further “human evolution” (man is committing multiple crimes in human experimentation) and has some how made it WORSE

The emperors coven is known as the “Torchlights” (creative I know right/s) And now our coven heads (+Camilla) are now Head Scientists/Doctors/Security

Camilla is part of the Torchlights because of Luz, similar to Ellie she is immune and Belos said to Camilla that he’ll let her live as long as Camilla does what she’s told. She works with any animals based subjects (since she is a vet in canon)

Luz’s story line with Eda and the others is her canon development mashed with Ellie and Joel’s. She escapes the Torchlight facility and Meets Eda and who is traveling West to the primary Torchlight facility at the invite of Raine Whispers (They are requesting her assistance to actually retrieve Luz to get Camilla and her out of there before Them, Darius and Eber enact their take down of the Torchlights, They where shocked to see that Eda had already had her with her. Saves the trip back I guess)

Lilith, Willow, Gus, and Amity are all residents in a safe zone similar to the one Tommy had going. Lilith is an ex-torch light here, cause of it her and Eda’s relationship is strained.

Eda isn’t cursed here but she was thrown into testing cause of Lilith, and she was lucky to get out unscathed. That and she may have left eda to literally die multiple times via hordes of infected.

Lilith doesn’t join the travel party till later. Willow, Gus and Amity jump at the opportunity to get out of the safe zone, having all spent their entire lives in it. Amity and Luz still have that beginning conflict, but hand to hand combat. Amity is like convinced this girl is gonna dies, she can’t fight, she can’t barely shoot. Amity wins their scuffle and it goes pretty similar to canons but it’s more of “you’ll never make it out there. Admit it” and “I wouldn’t, but I’m still gonna try.”

Gus is a stealth master STRAIGHT UP. This man could sneak by infected no problem (and people too) he’s a melee master, shank central.

Willow has learned as much medical know how as she can, one of her dads being one of the medics for the safe zone. She uses her knowledge of nature to her advantage. She can think of 50 ways to poison you with local fauna, or she can literally surplex you cause buff willow supremacy. She knows her way around a gun when needed. She takes up Teaching Luz how to shoot with just a hand gun cause eda only has a shot gun and rifle and it wasn’t going well.

Amity.. Amity is definitely interesting in this AU. She’s definitely smart and sharp as a tack, and a skilled sharp shooter but she definitely prefers a bow and arrow. Hunting professional (Ed and Emira Taught her) despite her age she’s part of the hunting parties and stuff and is seen as a very established citizen with her family. Odalia and Edric are basically the same, they where high class before all this went down and Odalia is still trying to be. Alador is still building things, straight up an engineer. Amity and willows situation is still pretty much the same.

Hunter,, my poor boy. He’s still a clone by technicality. He’s technically Evelyn and Caleb’s kid.. but like he’s made from “genetic material” belos has frozen and uses to basically keep making these ‘kids’. Hunter is like the 12th one to happen. Is the oldest one. (Most never lived past 3 and usually their where 2 or 3 at a time. But Hunter is an only kid atm.) he’s still 16 here. A literal walking experiment, he is immune like Luz but holds a altered strain connected to one belos has placed in himself and allows him to basically fuck with his mind. (And control it if needed but it’d nearly kill hunter.) He was basically a child soldier until the Hexsquad basically snatched his ass and he had to choose between being mauled by clicker or joining this weird found family. He’s secretly a NERD.

Flapjack, Hooty and King are here as HUMANS. Hooty is this weird lanky dude that travels with eda until they get to the safe zone, he stays with Lilith until they meet back up later. Flapjack was a doctor that was close with Caleb and Evelyn! And has been keeping close tabs on hunter. Came looking for him when he went missing, becoming yet another me member of the strange group. King is a little kid Eda found and has been raising as her own!

I have so much but it’s a whole lot and I’d love to see if y’all would wanna see content of this!

[waitingforwinterwinds]

A Clash of Kings - 69 Bran VII (pages 862-873)

Summer catches Bran up on the sack of Winterfell, so the team stops hiding in the crypts and splits the party for a road trip.

Chapter 69? !!! that's the funny number!!!

-

Yet as one smell drew them onward, others warned them back. He sniffed at the drifting smoke. Men, many men, many horses, and fire, fire, fire. No smell was more dangerous, not even the cold smell of iron, the stuff of man-claws and hardskin. The smoke and ash clouded his eyes, and in the sky he saw a great winged snake whose roar was a river of flame. He bared his teeth, but then the snake was gone. Behind the cliffs tall fires were eating up the stars.

Oh that sounds so apocalyptic. And in a way I suppose it kinda was a small apocalypse, Winterfell set aflame and razed. I love the way Summer refers to human stuff, "man-claws" and "hardskin" instead of swords and armour, it feels organic, not overly forced, which I know can be a bit of a balancing act between what an intelligent creature would know, versus what an animal would really understand and contextualize human things.

also, correct me if I'm wrong, but this is the scene right? the one that people say "oh this is what Dany's vision meant re: a great beast taking wing and breathing fire"?

"From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire..."

I'm... not sure this is the moment, tbh. I dunno, something about the wording just doesn't go 'click' for me. Mostly because Summer is seeing it and and thinking 'snake' not 'beast' (the 'stone' part is understandable to leave out, regardless of if it's relevant or not) and I get that that is an incredibly strange thing to get caught up on but... given that we had wildfire pseudo-anthropomorphized by Davos as a demon, I just get the feeling it's more in line with that than with Dany's vision. Also that her vision called it shadow fire specifically...

I mean it could be the vision moment, I might just be reading it from the wrong angle, but ... *shrugs*

Heck, the vision might not be a single moment in the series but a repeating motif.

well now i kinda want to print off all the "prophecies" and paste 'em to my walls to use like a checklist. XD

anyway, moving on~

He closed his third eye and opened the other two, the old two, the blind two. In the dark place where all men were blind. But someone was holding him. He could feel arms around him, the warmth of a body snuggled close. He could hear Hodor singing "Hodor, hodor, hodor," quietly to himself.

Oh poor Hodor. You're doing amazing sweetie. (all these kids are doing amazing, let's be honest.)

His tongue felt thick and strange in his mouth. One day when I come back I won't know how to talk anymore. ... "Too long. you'll starve yourself. Meera dribbled a little water down your throat, and we smeared honey on your mouth, but it is not enough. ... "The wolf ate," Jojen said. "Not you. Take care, Bran. Remember who you are."

It really has been all about Identity for the Stark siblings this book, about the loosing of self, or the threat of it anyway.

Also: warging is super dangerous. (Modern AUs, do you think they'd have little clinics and wards set up with stuff so Wargs could do their astral possession thing while their bodies are doing their best impersonation of a coma patient?)

Bran had to squint as the pitch began to burn, filling the world with orange glare. The light woke Rickon, who sat up yawning. When the shadows moved, it looked for an instant as if the dead were rising as well.

Nice. But not yet.

They need a red glass case for their torches if they're going to be down in the dark for so long. Red light is one of the best for doing dark cave tours, I went to one of the glow worm caves once, Arachnocampa glow worms, not firefly larvae glow worms, by the way (fun fact, glow worms of the Arachnocampa Genus are only found in like, 10? places world wide iirc, and they are all in Australia and New Zealand, and also they glow blue not yellow/green) and we did the tour with red light torches/flashlights, which allowed us to see everything after a small adjustment period, but the didn't spook the glow worms because many cave dwelling beasties cannot see the red light wave length, but also we didn't point the torches directly at them, they were plenty bright enough on their own. Anyway, because of the wavelength, red light can be used to see, without wrecking your night vision, and going from full dark to red light doesn't hurt your eyes as much as things in the orange, yellow or white light spectrum.

Osah carried her long oaken spear in one hand and the torch in the other. A naked sword hung down her back, one of the last to bear Mikken's mark. He had forged it for Lord Eddard's tomb, to keep his ghost at rest. But with Mikken slain and the ironmen guarding the armory, good steel had been hard to resist, even if it meant grave-robbing. Meera had claimed Lord Rickard's blade, though she complained it was too heavy. Brandon took his namesake's, the sword made for the uncle he had never known. He knew he would not be much use in a fight, but even so the blade felt good in his hand.

I am having feels about them being armed by Starks past. By his ancestors, by the dead.

also: " Meera had claimed Lord Rickard's blade, though she complained it was too heavy." You know who has a nice light Valyrian steel sword that was originally a lady's blade? Brynden Rivers, Three-eyed Raven.

#Let Meera Have Dark Sister 2023!!!

... I feel like there was some kind of intent behind Theon Stark being known as 'the Hungry Wolf' when Theon Greyjoy has such a hungry personality, always wanting things but never satiated.

"Open the door, Hodor," Bran said.

Why do you hurt me like this?

They stood in the shadow of the First Keep, or what remained of it. One whole side of the building had torn loose and fallen away. Stone and shattered gargoyles lay strewn across the yard. They fell just where I did, Bran thought when he saw them. Some of the gargoyles had broken into so many pieces it made him wonder how he was alive at all.

This feels symbolic, both in terms of Bran and Winterfell, but also like a call back to the dream of falling where all those other dreamers were pierced or shattered on the stony spikes below but Bran managed to fly.

... post apocalyptic cityscape indeed. Shit.

Good catch by Osha, the signs that Theon hadn't done this. Like he crossed some lines, but he would never have done this.

LUWIN!!!!! oh gosh.

The maester smiled. "Hush now, child, I'm much older than you. I can... die as I please."

Nooooooo, no, no , nonono! You can't! You're the MVP of the North.

(But also before you go: good job on sussing out the ruse from the dead child's non-atrophies leg muscles. see, this is why you're MVP.)

The stone is strong, Bran told himself, the roots of the trees go deep, and underground the Kings of Winter sit their thrones. So long as those remained, Winterfell remained. It was not dead, just broken. Like me, he thought. I'm not dead either.

Well, I'll say this for GRRM, he sure knows how to sucker-punch me last minute with these books.

I really like the hopeful tone in this, ("I'm not dead either.") not just for the future of Winterfell, but from Bran's personal arc, it feels like even though all this horrible stuff has happened, he's finally ready to take the first few steps out of the dark part of his recovery arc, and actually start mental and emotional recovery in regards to his fall.

... actually, hang on, I just need to check something...

ahhh, that's what's pinging, I think.

GoT, Bran II: [Winterfell] had grown over the centuries like some monstrous stone tree, Maester Luwin told him once, and its branches were gnarled and thick and twisted, its roots sunk deep into the earth.

-

okay, tomorrow is a 'rest' day, because it's the appendix, and then the day after we'll start Steel and Snow. (aka: A Storm of Swords Part 1)

Two books down, yay!!

[bluestar22x]

Thinking about butterflies and moths right now. Thinking about how butterflies represent Sarah and moths represent Ellie and/or Joel.

Butterflies are considered beautiful, moths are generally considered not to be. I’ve seen family members awe over butterflies and the very same people reach for a fly swatter to kill a moth.

Butterflies have long been considered a symbol of hope, faith, and transformation/rebirth (all those films where someone dies and their family/lover is visited by a butterfly after like their dead loved one became one and is comforting them). Butterflies are a symbol of the light and all that is good in the world.

Moth symbolism is very similar in some cultures, but they can also be considered foreshadowers of death (if you see one in one culture it might mean you are going to find your true love and in other culture it might mean death is coming for you). They are creatures of the night. They are attracted to flames, to light, and as such, they can also represent a person who is seeking light from the darkness. They can represent someone in touch with their emotions and/or someone who is in need of transformation.

To make it short, moth symbolism is complex and depending on the culture, they can be seen as good luck or bad luck, as good or evil. Their outward appearance and them being nocturnal makes cultures split on them (since again, day/light represents good and night/dark represents evil in many cultures).

The Last Of Us digs into this symbolism, even more so on the show, though it is subtle. Joel has a butterfly in his window both in the past and in his apartment he shares with Tess. Sarah has butterfly stuff in her room. Sarah is innocent. She is sweet. She is all light. A butterfly lands on Ellie while she’s sleeping at the start of 1x02.

Ellie’s bathed in light. She is a representative of good, being a child. She is hope for humanity (the cure).

The butterfly lands on her. It represents rebirth, a chance at a fresh start. But not for humanity as we would expect. No, it’s for Joel.

The man of darkness. The moth. The person who’s considered ugly (on the inside). He’s not well liked by most. He’s done bad things to protect those he cares about (and will continue to do so). He is a person who is in great emotional pain every day and is haunted by death. Who is attracted to the light that is Ellie (though he tries to resist at first and is scared over it). He needs her even if he doesn’t want to risk getting burned (by the flames). Even though he will get burned like every moth that gets too close to a fire (light).

Ellie’s his second chance to be a father. And that butterfly landing on Ellie is like Sarah passing the torch to her in a way if you want to get real emotional about it (I do). She helps him transform back into someone who is more like his old self. The person he was when Sarah was still alive. The person who had a will to live. Who laughed despite having some rough days because his daughter was there to cheer him up.

He’s in the shadows with Tess when Ellie wakes in 1x02. And he’s in the shadows again when she attempts to treat his wounds in 1x07. Both times she’s also in the light. She saves him (or starts to) both times in different ways. If not for outside factors (David, the fireflies, the cure) it would’ve been all good, all healing.

But it wasn’t (screw most of humanity in this world - argh). (Spoilers for game 2) So eventually Ellie turns into a moth herself (for a different reason than Joel but the results are the same). Seeking to avenge the hole in her heart. Diving head first into darkness. She literally has a moth tattoo (does she already see herself like a moth - too ugly, too broken on the inside to have a butterfly tattoo?).

She never quite realized she was hope even without being the cure. Just by breathing she had been hope. She was so focused on the large scale she forgot she made a difference anyway, on the small scale, and that should be enough. No one person should be expected to save the world when millions helped destroy it. (The infected weren’t the reason humanity fell so badly imo.) And that ended up destroying her because her regrets are what really drove her to do the things she did.

[thelemonzone42]

Lottie Littlestripe’s Midnight Plan.

Jess and Lily were busy at work, placing fresh hay in the badger's pens. Afterwards, they spotted a dog and cat playing when they spotted another cat. They immediately recognized her as Goldie. Even though she’s a normal cat in The Human World, she can be human sized in The Friendship Forest. Jess and Lily had a feeling that she might need them.

By the time they arrived at the Friendship Forest, Goldie told them that she had a surprise for the two of them. She followed them to a caramel-scented moss path to a cute little nursery. The nursery had assorted puppies, kittens and baby squirrels. Above the pen was a lot of hammocks for the little ones for their naps. It was there they met Lottie Littlestripe the Badger and her single mother. Ms. Littlestripe is the operator of the Fuzzle Nuzzle Nursery, where little ones are taken care of while their parents are out working. Lottie waited a long time to meet Jess and Lily.

It was time for the babies’ nap time. Lottie’s specialty of putting them to sleep is are the bedtime stories she makes up. They were a classic. She tried to get them to sleep by telling a story of Jess and Lily, but they were too hyper to take their naps. They didn’t even have their naps the day before. Determined to find a permanent solution, they decided to go to The Sweet Dreams Tree and get their petals for the little ones' pillows. Mrs. Lottie decided to stay behind while Jess, Lily, and Lottie went off to the Sweet Dreams Tree. After all, good nannies don’t leave the children all alone.

The trio walked amongst purple flowers that smelled like hot chocolate. It made Lottie want to relax and nap. By the time they reached the tree, they found Dandelion: One of Grizelda’s witches-in-training. She loved potions. Dandelion used one of her potions to make a bunch of flowers into toads. Unfortunately, it didn’t work and Grizelda was mad. To show one of her students TRUE dark magic, she casted a spell on the source of The Sweet Dreams Tree’s power: The Sweet Dream Heart. Jess, Lily, and Lottie suddenly realized that was the cause of the nightmares, Grizelda casting a spell on the tree. 

The quartet immediately followed the flowery trail to it, only to run into Lottie’s maternal aunt, Mrs. Stripyback. At the same time, Goldie told one of the Butterfly Messengers to tell Ms. Littlestripe that they’ll be out a little while longer. Aunt Stripyback explained that she has been digging all day and hasn’t gotten any sleep. The quartet assured her that she’ll get a good night's sleep as soon as they rescue The Sweet Dream Heart. The path led them to Friendship Forest’s Night Market. Although most of the  patrons fall asleep during the night, The Night Market is open to nocturnal animals. 

They asked the fireflies, bats, and owls where the Sweet Dreams Heart was, but they didn’t have a clue. It was also there they ran into their speech-impaired owl friend, ‘Mr. Cleverfeather’. He was selling handmade necklaces and hankies under a vine of glowworm lanterns and grapes. They borrowed his telescope so they could find The Heart. With one look, Lottie could see it at the Twisted Willow Tree. If they go now, Dandelion won’t stand a chance against them. For safety, Mr. Cleverfeather gave them some pine cone torches to light the way.

With one blow, the pinecone torches lit like actual torches. They found the heart by the Twisted Willow Tree up high. Lily remembered that Grizelda casted a spell on the heart that makes it float uncontrollably. Desperate to save the Friendship Forest, they decided to go to Great Uncle Greybear. When they reached his den, they could see that the door was wide open. That’s when they knew that something was wrong. 

Inside the den, they could see Uncle Greybear was dozing off. After waking him up, Uncle Greybear has been having a hard time falling asleep. It was there he decided to get some hot chocolate at Toadstool Cafe, hoping to soothe his anxiety.

When they got outside, they could see Dandelion holding Great Uncle Greybear’s diary, explaining why the door was open when they got there. The evil witch in training intended to turn his diary into mold

‘From the book that I hold, turn the pages into-‘

But before she could say, ‘Mold’ Lottie shouted, ‘Gold’. And just like that, it turned into a shiny gold diary. Dandelion dropped the gold item from her hands and Jess and Lily grabbed it. Lily had a feeling that Lottie was so used to coming up with brilliant stories with a happy ending, she could use it for spells too. 

Reading through the pages, they could see the last entry before the incident. It was there they learned that a local troublemaking crow named, ’Zachary Clawfoot’ stole his Slumber Moss pillow and has been having a hard time falling asleep. Now the girls know what to use for pillows. Lottie remembered that there are slumber mosses on the far end of the Willowtree River.

Once they arrived, they saw Ellie Featherbill having a hard time falling asleep. On the other side of the river, Dandelion was pouring a speeding potion into the river. The river was so powerful that the barge was slipping away. Fortunately, Jess, Lily, Goldie, and Lottie got a hold of it and tied the rope that keeps the barge from going away to a tree.

Below the tree, they could see a tunnel. Jess and Lily immediately remembered that Auntie Stripyback was digging tunnels. And to their luck, they found Slumber Mosses. After grabbing as many as they could, they crawled out of the tunnel and rushed back to The Twisted Willow Tree.

When they arrived, Jess and Lily grabbed the heart and got it to safety. It was there they saw Dandelion being too cranky. She apologized for her behavior because she gets cranky when she doesn’t get enough sleep. Jess and Lily feel the same way. Lottie told her a story about a potion-loving witch, hoping it would put Dandelion to sleep. The poofy-haired witch started to yarn and drift to sleep. Within that moment, they arrived back at The Sweet Dreams Tree and the blossoms on it began to bloom. 

Slumber party, story of two girls, a cat, and a badger going on an adventure. 

In the morning, they had a heaping hot breakfast of toast with sunberry and hazelnut spread and raspberry smoothies. Dandelion was also there. She arrived at Fuzzle Nuzzle Nursery after they drifted to sleep last night. Stay in the nursery.

Back in Brightley, for the animals pens for a good night sleep.

The End.