#(one of them was actually in the tall grass but it was enough to hide it from me)

[kalmeria]

i recommend going outside every once in a while. go get scared shitless by a pheasant suddenly taking flight from the nearby brush or something

[silverfairywings]

— IN THE WAKE OF FLAMES. PT II

eris vanserra x reader

summary: even before you became fae, your favourite season was autumn. it’s a little hard to hide this when your least favourite newly appointed high lord has made it his life’s mission to be the most annoying male in your life.

a/n: this one’s really long sorry!! not proofread and I’ve decided it’s going to be incredibly slow burn… send ur thoughts, and if you want to be in the tag list please send an ask instead as I’m more like to see it :)

You make the mistake of breathing in deeply through your nose as you walk through the meadow of the Spring Court, the crisp air and smell of wildflowers tickling its way into your nostril and forcing a sneeze out of you.

The long stems of grass, wet with morning dew and brushing against your calves are like little needles poking your skin. The itching sensation in your nose caused by the sheer amount of flowers makes your eyes water and all you can think about is the relentless urge to sneeze over and over again.

“I don’t think there’s a single living thing within 50 miles that hasn’t scurried away,” Rhysand says, as if he’s commenting on the weather. You open your mouth to respond, but before you can even form the words on your lips, the thought vanishes as the tickle flares up in your nose again and another sneeze explodes from you. “I think that was sneeze number nineteen and we’ve only been here fifteen minutes.”

“I can’t help it. How does anyone live amongst all of this greenery without wanting to scratch their faces off?” you ask, sniffling pathetically. “And how long before the others arrive? Surely counting my sneezes is below the duties of a High Lord.”

“Most Fae don’t suffer with your affliction. It’s probably something to do with how you were Made,” Azriel adds, not unkindly. He stands slightly further away from you, Rhys and Nesta and if it weren’t for his shadows, you’d have thought he was too preoccupied with keeping watch to listen in. “And it’s sneeze number eighteen actually.”

Nesta narrows her eyes, peering behind Azriel and then sighing in relief. “Thank the Mother,” she mumbles. “Took them long enough. If I had to hear another word about your damned nose…”

You sniff loudly to make a point. You’re about to reply until you spot the two figures in the distance, walking towards the three of you at a deliberately unhurried pace. You first recognise Helion, the morning rays of sun setting his skin aglow as though his powers commanded them to; you wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually doing as much to make a fashionable entrance. The charming grin he shoots your ways is contagious and you can’t help returning it until your focus shifts to the person beside him and you try not to let your face drop.

Even half-shielded from view, the sight of Eris sets your teeth on edge. His tall, lean frame sharply contrasts with the brightness of the meadow, his deep mahogany tunic making him stand out further amongst the flowers. The way he walks with such easy arrogance and moves with an infuriatingly casual stride as though he just belongs there makes your skin prickle with irritation.

Eris’ sharp amber eyes sweep across the group until they land on you for a short moment, a flicker of recognition and something else you don’t care to analyse in his gaze before he turns back to Rhys. The brief looks feels like a challenge and you feel your irritation growing, so you wrench your gaze away from him and focus on Helion instead.

“My, what a pleasant little group we’ve compiled,” the High Lord of Day says, tone pleasant and amused as always. He tilts his head, considering. “Morrigan wasn’t available?”

“She’s with Feyre, Elain and Tarquin,” Rhys responds with a roll of his eyes, but his faint smile tells you he’s pleased to see Helion, rather than annoyed. Nesta looks as though she wants nothing more than to go home, and Azriel looks impassive as always. “They’re covering the border on the East side.”

“Lovely group all the same,” Helion hums, winking at you, teasingly. You shake your head at him, smiling despite yourself. “Shall we?”

Gesturing ahead of you all, Helion starts walking and the rest of you follow, but not before Eris catches your gaze again and raises an eyebrow in question. Your cheeks warm and the smile you had previously given Helion starts to slip, but Eris looks away and walks ahead before you can fully react. The few seconds at a time that you engage in eye contact with the male have you assessing how his expression is sharper than it previously was.

His hair is shorter, you realise. The fiery red strands are no longer draping down his back, instead the ends are no longer than his shoulders, the tips just brushing against his collarbones. The previously long front pieces have been cropped short, his hair no longer looking long enough to tie back in a braid without falling back.

It’s almost as though there’s now nothing to soften the intensity of his gaze every time it passes over you and if that weren’t enough to unsettle you, it’s the realisation that you’re paying more attention to Eris’ hair than to the main reason you’re here in the first place.

Diplomatic relationships had greatly improved between Tamlin and the rest of the High Lords after many years of healing after the war. The Spring Court, while nearly restored to its former glory, had become the target of some recent attacks near the borders. Thus, Tamlin had requested the assistance of the other courts, with the exception of no outside help, ever the paranoid High Lord. Unfortunately, that excludes the security of the soldiers you’ve grown accustomed to, which has you looking over your shoulder every few minutes.

You knew Eris had agreed to help, but you weren’t aware he’d be in such close quarters. Well, as close as he could be with you walking right next to Nesta at the back of the group as she twisted and turned the hem of her dress keep it from getting caught on all the foliage.

“Remind me why we agreed to this,” she mutters under her breath, not quietly enough.

Rhysand throws a look over his shoulder while walking. “Because Tamlin requested our help,” he answers, his tone carefully neutral. “And we have a responsibility to agree to reasonable requests from other High Lords. If not to keep the peace between the Courts, then to ensure whatever’s happening doesn’t become a larger problem for the rest of us.”

“You know Tamlin’s not here, right?” Eris drawls, sardonically. “Meaning we don’t have to act like we actually like him.”

“What, the same way we act like we like you?” you mumble, unable to stop the words from escaping. You wince when Nesta snorts loudly, hiding her laughter in her hand. Even Azriel’s lips quirk up.

Eris finally looks over at you properly this time with a faint smirk, tilting his head. “You wound me, darling,” he says, his voice a silky challenge that you know from experience is daring you to push him further. “But I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

You force yourself to meet his eyes, physically unable to back down now that he’s spoken. It’s as though he flips a switch of irritation in you every time he talks, yet you never learn your lesson. It’s something to do with the amusement in his gaze, as if he enjoys your quick retorts that really gets under your skin.

“And you’re irritating as always,” you say, sighing as though you’re delivering unfortunate news. You look away, dismissively as you walk a little faster in an attempt to catch up to Nesta, from whom you’ve fallen behind. “But none of us would expect anything less from you.”

Eris continues walking at a leisurely pace, still closer to you than you are to Nesta and the others. Damn these stupid long-stemmed flowers.

A couple of them are particularly overgrown, the pollen seeming to waft right up into your nose and setting you off sneezing again. One particularly violent sneeze sends you stumbling and the world spins for a split second. Before you can hit the ground, a firm hand grips your elbow and pulls you upright, causing your back to bump against a solid chest.

You steady yourself and spin around to come face to face with Eris. His hand lingers on your arm, amber eyes glinting with amusement when you glance down, frowning before you yank it out of his grip. “I don’t need your help.”

“Clearly,” he replies drily, but doesn’t comment any further, taking a step back while keeping his eyes on you. His unwavering gaze makes you freeze, and it’s like he can sense your confusion as his lips quirk up. Bizarrely, he doesn't seem to be making fun of you, instead he just looks as though you’re both engaged in your usual banter and he’s enjoying it.

“Keep up, children,” Helion’s voice from ahead snaps you out of it and you step away, smoothing down your clothes and rushing forward to catch up with the others.

Before you looked away though, you caught Eris’ expression being schooled back into his usual aloof demeanour. It unsettles you, but you push the thought away as Nesta tilts her head at you in questioning. You shake your head slightly and smile reassuringly in answer, but her eyes narrow a little in suspicion.

The further you venture into the forest, the more your head clears, away from the pollen in the meadow, indicating you’re close to the border. The large trees offer you a welcome shade and you take a deep breath.

You’re grateful when you’re unable to sense any oncoming sniffling, but something else starts to tug at the edges of your awareness. It starts off as subtle and you brush it off, but the closer you get to the edges of the forest and nearer to the border, the stronger it becomes.

Rhys calls for a halt when you’ve reached your destination and your feet start to walk you to the walls of magic on their own accord. No one stops you, but they watch warily as you close your eyes, trying to understand what you’re sensing.

It’s took a while to come to terms with the abilities thrust upon you by the Cauldron, the ability to detect and absorb other people’s magic. You felt confident enough to distinguish what you felt from the magic of the people around you and it makes you exhale shakily.

“What is it?” Rhys murmurs, voice sharp but quiet as not to disrupt your concentration. You don’t need to sense anything else though, and so you turn around and shake your head.

“Fae magic,” you answer, slightly underwhelmed. “Just regular, old Fae magic. I don’t think there’s anything sinister here.”

The group all seem to visibly relax slightly, although Azriel’s shadows are still flitting around him like a flock of birds, some venturing out to explore and then returning to whisper at his ears. “Whoever was here has gone now. It’s just us.”

“What does it feel like?” Nesta asks, directing the question to you. She’s referring to the magic, knowing you can usually detect a type of feeling with each strain. “How dangerous?”

“It’s not that it’s dangerous,” you explain, feeling the weight of everyone’s expectant gazes. “It’s more angry than anything. And there’s so many of them, all with slightly different undertones.”

“Ah, how wonderful,” Helion remarks, cheery demeanour never slipping. “A large group of angry Fae with the nerve to attack the borders of a known crazed High Lord. Not dangerous in the slightest.”

You send him a withering stare, with no real heat in it. Rhysand ignores him, glancing back at the rest of you. “We should split up for a while. If something feels off, send out a message and we can regroup. Stay alert.”

You all nod, about to wander off until Helion catches everyone’s attention when he starts to literally glow.

The forest is darker where you all stand and it looks even more concealed further ahead so you aren’t surprised he’s doing as such, but the bright light is nearly blinding.

Eris scowls, the flames swirling around his own hands giving just enough illumination without drawing attention. “Why not just send out a beacon to alert everyone to our exact location?”

Helion frowns, glancing at Rhys who, surprisingly, just shrugs. The High Lord of Day sighs dramatically. “Fine,” he cedes, dimming his light slightly. “Happy, little Lord?”

“Ecstatic,” he deadpans, walking off without another word. The rest of you follow suit, going in opposite directions to inspect the border for signs of anything.

You’ve only been walking around for a few minutes alone, trying to feel unique differences in the magic that lingers around you, still fresh. It’s harder than you thought it would be and you’re so frustrated that you let your guard down.

You don’t hear the snap of the twig, but from the corner of your eye, you catch movement and reach for the dagger by your hip instinctively, spinning round toward the source. You swing the dagger out in front of you in a defensive position, just to see that it’s Eris emerging from behind a tree, his amber eyes glinting with amusement.

“Did I startle you?” he drawls, his tone dropping with feigned innocence.

Scowling, you sheathe your blade. “Do you enjoy sneaking around like that? Or do you just have an unhealthy desire to annoy me?”

Eris raises his eyebrows and his smirk deepens like you’ve just said something extremely entertaining. “Well, it’s a talent really, but what was that about desire? Because, that-”

“Stop,” you sigh, wanting nothing less than to hear out the rest of that sentence. “Just… go away and let me focus on this magic.”

You turn away from him and shut your eyes in concentration, but it doesn’t work as you dont hear him move. Knowing Eris is standing there watching you is doing nothing to help, and you’re about to say so when he speaks first.

“How do you know it’s not just mine or Helion’s magic you’re sensing?” he asks, seemingly serious. You frown at him, thinking he’s joking.

“Well, I have met the two of you before,” you reply, injecting your voice with as much sarcasm as possible. “I know what your magic feels like.”

“And?” Eris tilts his head in question. “What does it feel like?”

“Helion’s magic feels bright, awake and fresh and yours feels…” Inviting, warm, strong. You don’t say anything, because you can’t really explain what you sense in his magic as you still don’t fully understand it. Why you’re drawn to it the same way you would be drawn to jumping into a pile of autumn leaves outside your home as a child. You swallow, looking away. “Different.”

It’s not unusual for you to gravitate to certain magical auras, but it’s only ever been towards close friends, family, some select strangers with whom you had a kind word, for example.

Thankfully, Eris doesn’t push. Annoyingly, however, he changes the subject. “Have you considered my mother’s invite to come and visit Autumn?”

“Shush!” you hiss at him, shooting a glance over your shoulder to see if any of the Inner Circle are nearby. The last thing you need is for them to overhear your conversation. It would lead to an unbearable series of questions, interrogations and endless teasing.

Eris’ chuckle is soft, taunting. “Why so nervous, darling? Afraid your friends will finally put two and two together and realise how you truly feel about their beloved court?”

The mental image of Rhys being disappointed in you makes you feel physically sick. He took you in, gave you a place to be free and opened up his home to you. All for you to go and feel like you don’t even belong? Your chest tightens and you decide you could never do that to him. You glare at Eris and attempt to keep your voice steady. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Liar,” he drops his voice down to a whisper. “Would it really be so bad if your High Lord knew the truth?”

You swallow the rising panic in your body, the fear that he’s going to use your insecurities that only he can sense to his advantage. You close the distance between the two of you and your voice is low and sharp as you speak. “What the hell do you want from me, Eris?”

Eris’ expression falters slightly, like you’ve taken him by surprise for a split second. “What?”

“What could you possibly want from me?” you let out a derisive laugh, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Do you enjoy holding things over me? Because I can’t think of anything I could give you that you don’t already have. So, if you are blackmailing me for something, then I’d prefer if you just came out with it already.”

The words spill out of you with an intensity that you’ve bottled up since you last argued with Eris, but your anger dims slightly when you realise he’s no longer looking amused. Instead, he stares at you with a blank expression and it’s somehow worse than if he were insulting you.

You realise just how close you had gotten to him only when he steps back slowly, as though wanting to draw your attention to the lack of space, snapping you out of whatever furious trance you were in.

A moment passes before he allows himself to give you a faint smirk, but his jaw is clenched and his eyes flicker with something you can’t figure out. “We should get back to your precious High Lord.”

You open your mouth to say… something. You aren’t even sure what there’s left to say, especially since the whole interaction has left you more unsettled than ever. “I-”

“Keep your guard up, Archeron,” he just says, cutting you off before turning around to walk away without sparing you another glance.

tag list: @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @abysshaven @nayaniasworld @rcarbo1 @paleidiot @tenshis-cake @bunnyredgirl

[ryker-writes]

Firefly

A post for @cloudcountry 's event to get Idia out of his room! Yes this may or may not have been inspired by a small quote in Auburn's profile

"This is it. I'm gonna die. You're trying to kill me."

"Idia, you're fine. There's barely anyone out here."

It's was quite a sight to see the tall man hunched behind you as he tried to hide out of sight from other people. Any time another student was in sight, even if they were far away, he would move ever so slightly closer to you. His hand held onto your own as you led him along the pathway to Ramshackle Dorm.

It certainly wasn't often that Idia got out of his room for...well, anything really. So you were actually doing him a favor. On the way out of Ignihyde, Ortho had even given you an approving smile.

But you knew Idia better than most, and you truly cared about him! So while you wanted to show him something, you also wanted to make sure he was comfortable. That's why you tried to take him out when there wouldn't be as many people, and you two took the paths others didn't go on as often to avoid anyone that was out.

"We're not far now. I promise there won't be anyone there either. Just us."

He didn't really respond, but you could sense the appreciation. You could just see him relax slightly. His hold on your hand had loosened, but he didn't let go.

The small lanterns around the outside of Ramshackle were the only thing lighting your path. Under the night sky, the building could look ominous, but not to you. To you, it was peaceful. Almost like a home. But you weren't taking him inside. Instead, you were taking him to the small forest behind the old building.

You already had everything set up. A small blanket laid upon the grass in a small clearing between the trees. Near one corner of the blanket there were some snacks and two small jars.

But what caught both of your attention the most, was the sight you had brought him here to see. Throughout the small clearing and behind the trees were dozens upon dozens of small flickering lights. Possibly hundreds of small fireflies flew through the air around the two of you. Their lights twinkled and decorated the dark night like stars in the sky.

You led Idia with you over to the blanket in the clearing before handing him one of the jars. He stared down at it for a small moment before clearing his throat.

"You...brought me out here to catch bugs?"

"Not just any bugs. Fireflies. They're pretty and if we catch them then they can be like a small memento. Or a gift for Ortho in proof of what you did."

He paused in thought for several moments before letting out a sigh and took the jar, carefully unscrewing the lid.

"Fine..."

"Think of it like a quest. A quest to capture say...three fireflies."

He seemed content enough with that, and stepped away to try and scope out the fireflies. You watched him as he followed several and stumbled about trying to catch them. While it seemed easy enough in the beginning, the fireflies were quick and kept managing to escape his capture. He'd mutter curses under his breath each time one escaped before quickly moving onto the next one.

The true plan of yours unfolded once he had managed to get two fireflies in his jar. He'd taken a quick moment to look down at the small bugs he'd captured with a small smile, and that's when you saw your perfect moment.

His victorious smile was quickly wiped off his face and replaced with a startled expression the second he saw the flash of light. His head snapped towards your direction only to see you smiling and pulling the camera away from your face as it printed out the photo. Your hand grabbed the newly printed photo and started to shake it lightly, laughing as he looked like a deer in headlights.

"This was a trap?!"

You shook your head, "It wasn't a trap. Look! You caught some fireflies!"

His hands tightened around his jar of fireflies that he had worked so hard to catch. Those golden eyes shifted from you down to your empty jar.

"You haven't been trying to catch any..."

"Of course I have. I just have a different method than you."

Looking at the photo, you were quite proud of yourself. It perfectly captured the moment of Idia's victorious smile as he looked down at the bugs in the jar. All around him, several firefly lights could be seen shining, some even flying near his fiery hair in interest. It was perfect.

You smiled over at him once more as you carefully put the photo in the jar, and shut the lid.

"Look! I caught my firefly!"

[tripleglitchwriting]

if you're taking requests, maybe something about g1 beachcomber attempting to communicate and make friends with a human?

I don’t know too much about G1 Beachcomber, but I think I know enough to write about him. Here goes!

Also, I am so, so sorry it took this long 😭😭 I’ve been having a bit of a hard time writing recently.

In That Moment

First contact G1 Beachcomber and human

No warnings!! Other than a few mentions of war, it’s pretty fluffy. Enjoy!

The planet they ended up on was beautiful. It was filled with so much life, most creatures too small for him to hold or see properly, but that didn’t make them any less amazing! The sheer variety in each and every species was astounding. To think they had been here all this time, just waiting for someone to find them.

The Ark had landed near one of the planets many oceans. Water covered most of planet actually, which made for quite a wide array of biodiversity both on land and in sea. The area he’d found himself in had tall trees with only a bush like flourish of leaves on its top, plenty of grasses and flowers, as well as a lot of sand. A lot of sand. Not his favorite, but things like that were common in places unlike Cybertron.

In the water nearby he spotted splashing, something other than the crashing waves hounding the shore. Out of curiosity he trotted over to investigate. A slick, gray marine lifeform was making arcs leaping from the water into the air. It was too far out for him to truly get a good look at it, but it was a fascinating being even from where he was standing. Just as he stepped into part of the shallows in a vain attempt to get closer, there was a scuttling at his pedes.

A very small crustacean was darting away from him. Unfortunately Beachcomber was a little too big to properly handle the thing without accidentally hurting it. It seemed to have an array of legs with two large pincers on its front. For protection maybe? Hunting for prey? It crawled out of sight before he could figure it out. Beachcomber ex-vented. There had to be something here he could get closer look at….

Oh well. He still had some time before he had to get back to the arc. Optimus had specifically told everyone not to get involved with the local dominant species, but how was he supposed to pass up an opportunity like that? The war had robbed him of peaceful interaction with countless other races. Now that they were hiding here, maybe he’d have the time to communicate with a brand new people!

The time passed slowly. Most of the organisms were either too far in the water or too small to handle. They were all terrified of him too, which made sense, but it was still a bummer. He’d really hoped to make a grand discovery here, it seemed like a great habitat for plenty of species. Turning away for the water, Beachcomber decided it may be time to give up for the cycle. Maybe he’d try a different place next time, or a- OH!

When he came to turn around, something new was standing in front of him. Bipedal, strikingly similar to a Cybertronain, just… smaller, and with… fabrics, and… carrying something. He hadn’t seen anything on this planet wear fabrics before… or approach him willingly, this had to be the sentient species of the planet! How lucky was he to meet one just as he was about to leave!

It- or, they, he supposed, began warbling something at him. This was a fantastic opportunity to communicate! Quickly Beachcomber fell to his knees in order to get closer to the new person, inadvertently causing the ground to shake around them, the person stumbled. They took more steps back in hesitation, obviously weary.

“No, no, sorry, I’m not tryin’ to scare ya.” Narrowed eyes met his own optics. In an effort to connect, Beachcomber held out a digit. “See? I’m not hurtin’ nobody.”

Their little eyes sparkled with curiosity, and though he detected a healthy amount of hesitation, they put both their hands on his one digit after flinging the object they were carrying over their shoulder. The tiny servos were warmer than he thought, it was very pleasant feeling actually. Their lips curled up into a shy smile.

Beachcomber could hardly contain himself. This was the discovery of a lifetime! Well, maybe not a lifetime, but it was still fascinating to witness! They weren’t as afraid of him as the rest of the creatures, they were intelligent, sentient! He’s been over that fact in his head before, yet it still astounded him. Prime might be upset with him if he knew… but no self respecting bot would pass up an scientific opportunity like this. Maybe Wheeljack would want to see… no, actually, on second thought that’s probably a horrible idea. Bumblebee maybe? Or Percy. He wasn’t even supposed to be here though, what is he was found out? What if- a sound coming from below dragged Beachcomber out of his thoughts. The person was doing something with the object they had, seemingly opening it. It’s a carrying device then!

They bent down and set it on the ground, still wearily gazing up at him. From inside the device, they pulled out some small rectangular object with a glass lens in the middle and some other bits and bobs around its front. Of course he didn’t have any idea what it was. Alien technology isn’t something easily understood at first glance.

In his frenzied daze, Beachcomber completely forgot one key component about actually communicating with this new species: language. That didn’t stop him from trying to talk to them anyway.

“Hey, what’s your designation little guy?” The creature raised the object to its optic and pressed a button, causing the thing to make a bright flash at Beachcomber. He immediately went on the defensive and positioned his helm much farther from the thing, ready to use his servos is need be- a product of fighting for so long. However, the flash didn’t seem to have any effect on him or the creature, though his little friend was visibly caught off guard with his sudden movement. Primus, he really needed to stop doing that if he was going to talk to this thing!

Not long after a small white slip of something began to come out of the bottom of the device. The creature grabbed it and began waving it around in the air… was it another attempt to communicate? Or maybe a threat display or some kind? Against his better judgement, Beachcomber brought himself closer once again. This time, he resigned to observation. Studying other species always intrigued him. Organic species especially, he could never get over how soft some of them were! Like this one, their little cheeks were so pinch-able! Oh how he would love to talk to them about it… but at the moment the language barrier was too large.

Or so he thought.

The white slip began to change color the longer it was waved in the air. He hardly noticed it at first, and he couldn’t get a good look at what was appearing before it was turned away from him. To Beachcomber’s surprise, they began warbling at him again, and to his even greater surprise, they showed him what was on the slip.

It was him. It was a picture of Beachcomber.

Needless to say, he nearly shouted at the poor thing in pure excitement. Luckily he was able to contain himself through the power of focusing all his energy into thinking about the implications of this rather than actually moving or saying anything. What is this technology? How did they do that? Did they make it themselves? Oh, the questions he had were making it hard to think!!

“What an interesting lil’ one you are…” He slowly raised one of his digits to them. They backed up, hesitant, but he didn’t chase them. He just kept his digit patiently in place. As it seemed, that patience was about to pay off.

The creature stared at him for a second. Then, after carefully setting down their device, they raised their own tiny servo to his digit. Their squishy little palm radiated warmth. Beachcomber radiated utter joy. Their itty bitty face shifted from what he assumed was fear to an astounded wonder. He could even feel something that reminded him of a sparkbeat behind their digits. He couldn’t hide his smile.

Unfortunately, the bearing of dente seemed to scare them a little. The wonder on their face was replaced with nervous concern as they retracted their servo and took a step back. Beachcomber immediately covered his intake and shifted his weight away from the creature. They were so skiddish! But that was probably how any rational being would react in this situation…

Now what was he supposed to do? He could try again, they responded well to the slow movement before, maybe they would understand he was trying to make a positive connection. Maybe he could find them fuel, they’d like fuel, right? His mind traveled elsewhere as he became lost in thought. Just when he decided on what to do, (try slow moments again) he felt something on the tip of one of his digits- one that was splayed on the ground after he moved back.

It was the creature. They’d made their way towards him while he was preoccupied in his thoughts. The expression of contemplation he held previously dropped like a weight off his chassis. At that, they smiled. It was awkward and unconfident, but it was a symbol of mutual understanding. He didn’t know exactly why… but it felt like an apology.

Beachcomber pulled his lips into a much neater grin. The creature brightened up at that, chirping at him and bouncing in place. He took the opportunity to move his other servo slowly towards them. They acknowledged the change but didn’t shy away. Carefully, as they stood there with wide and curious optics, he rubbed a digit on their helm. He was both ecstatic and astonished to see they didn’t try and push it away or take it as a threat. They just waited until he was done.

When he did finish, he figured it was time to take the next step. Beachcomber slowly brought his servo down palm-up right next to the creature. They were a bit confused as to what he was trying to do, but when he took his other servo and tapped his palm with a gentle metal clink, they seemed to understand. With weary but brave movements, they put one pede on the living platform. Then another. Cautiously, they made their way to the dip of his palm.

Beachcomber gave them a second to find a comfortable position. When they did, he began to move. He began slow enough that they would be able to jump off if they felt uncomfortable. To his delight, they stayed put.

As the planet’s star began to dip down under the horizon line, Beachcomber held the creature close to his chassis. His spark was filled with complete warmth for the first time in a long time. It was a comfort he’d been missing since the war started.

The two simply sat there in a serene moment of peace and appreciation. This planet wasn’t his home, but it was the home of the friend he made today. No matter what, he vowed to protect this harmony at all costs. But for now, he resigned to watching the sunset and feeling the lightweight creature on his servo tap a soft and gentle beat on the metal.

In that moment, it seemed like everything was going to be okay.

[sugarcloudsky]

Helloo!!~ I hope your doing well!!

I have an request for Dark Cacao cookie x wife reader! The idea for it is, Dark Cacao ends up seeing his wife again after a very long time of being a part from one another just very fluffy and emotional moment for the two of them. Happy tears and smiles for all :)

Oh and please take your time with this request!! :D

「Intertwined」

character: dark cacao cookie

wc: 1.2k

cws: some angst(with a happy ending), reader is a little pathetic but that is okay x

HIII hello i still posted today!!! sorry for taking literal months with some these requests!!!! i love you all!!!

The Dark Cacao Kingdom.

A place you were all too familiar with. The very name sends a rush of dread throughout your entire body. It’s been such a long time since you heard that name. A place that once was a home to warm memories with your husband, was now nothing but a cold thought.

It had been many years since you left the Dark Cacao Kingdom. After the disappearance of your husband and the king, Dark Cacao Cookie, you were left to rule the kingdom on your own. After years of managing the kingdom, the troops, and the wall by yourself, the pressure of ruling with no king by your side had become too much for you to handle. So, in an act of selfishness, you fled. It wasn't something you were very proud of, but it was the only thing you thought you could do.

Grass crunching beneath your feet, you ran and ran, without looking back. Eventually, you came across a land called the Crème Republic, which is where you would end up hiding. You had remained there for quite some time, keeping yourself on a low profile, and from being discovered and being brought back to the place you once fled from.

Although your new life was much more relaxed than where you previously lived, a sense of guilt always lingered in the back of your mind. You always wondered, how is the kingdom doing now? You hoped they were doing okay without you. Sure, without any ruler to oversee the land, it may not have been the most desirable circumstances, but you knew they were tough enough to pull through. You always tried to bury your insecurities by convincing yourself that everything would turn out fine.

The only reason you had come out of hiding was because of the rumors you had been hearing as of late.

“Have you heard? The Ancient Heroes have finally returned to rescue us!”

“The Ancient Heroes have finally returned, especially when we needed them the most!”

The Ancient Heroes…?

Dark Cacao Cookie…

Has he…?

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest at the thought. The thought of your husband finally returning after so many years… Oh, how you missed him. How you wanted to see him, jump into his arms. How you wanted to kiss him. How you wanted to hold him. But your excitement was quickly overwhelmed by the immense guilt washing over you.

Did you really deserve to see him again after all this time? After you so selfishly abandoned the kingdom he had worked so hard to build? Would your old subjects even like to see you?

Would he even like to see you?

The turmoil within your head fogs your mind. No— you didn’t deserve to go back. Not after what you did to all those innocent people. You can’t go back. You were so uncaring to those people, fleeing without a second thought.

…But even so, you decided to make another selfish decision.

Which now leads to your current situation.

Aggressive cold air surrounded you angrily, as the tall doors of the citadel practically mocked you. Now that you were actually where you wanted to be, you started to get cold feet. The doors were right in front of you, yet you merely froze, allowing the cold climate to envelop you further.

“Hey! You there!”

A loud voice calls out to you, and you, startled, look up to see one of the many watchers of the kingdom pointing their crossbow directly at you.

“You, intruder, state your name and your purp—!”

The watcher begins to trail off, staring at you in awe, before their eyes widened in complete shock. They fumbled with the crossbow as they began stumbling over their words, unable to speak a sentence properly.

With shock present in their voice, they finally shout, “Y-you…! It’s you! You’re…!”

The watcher’s desperate cries gained the attention of the other watchers on duty nearby, and one by one, they had begun to approach you as well. Every single one of them slowly began to recognize who you were, and they all became frantic. Which is something you really didn’t want right now. The last thing you wanted was for so much attention to be drawn to you, and yet—

“The king! S-someone alert Dark Cacao Cookie, n-now!”

You knew now that it was a foolish hope.

——

Dark Cacao Cookie was no fool.

The moment he saw several of the kingdom's watchers burst into the throne room, frantic and inconsolable, he knew something was wrong. He expected to be informed of an attack on a nearby village, or even monsters from the Licorice Sea climbing the wall.

He was not, however, expecting to see his long lost lover standing at the opposite side of the room.

He noted how you avoided eye contact with him. He noted that you looked quite disheveled. He noted that you looked no different than when you did all those years ago.

Not a word from either side is said. The only noise heard was the frigid wind howling outside. The silence is only cut by Dark Cacao’s booming voice finally calling out.

“Watchers, you are dismissed.”

You jump, his deep voice causing your heart to ache. The watchers hesitate for a moment, before they meekly begin shuffling out, allowing the large doors to slam behind you. You don’t dare to look at him, not after everything that happened. You simply continue to stand in place, eyes glued to the floor.

“Come closer,” he calls to you, in a gentle yet firm command. Letting out a shaky sigh, you finally begin to slowly make your way towards the throne, feet dragging across the pristine floor. Every step feels like needles piercing your heart, as the pit in your stomach continues to grow.

Finally, you stop in front of the throne, kneeling down on one knee. Still refusing to look at him, you bow your head in respect, as if the two of you were strangers.

“My king,” a meek acknowledgement. His eyes bore into the back of your head, noting how you still refuse to look up at him. Your body curls in on itself as you hear him stand up and slowly approach you.

Footsteps stopping directly in front of you, he hesitates for a moment. Neither of you say or do anything. Then, after what felt like ages, he kneels in front of you. This is finally what urges you to look up at him.

The moment your eyes meet, his eyes immediately soften, and yours immediately fill with tears. Choking back a sob, you looked down again, many emotions overwhelming you in this very moment. Guilt, happiness, regret, sadness, everything all at once. It was too much for you to handle. You wanted to say something, but you just couldn’t.

“Hh— My king, I— I’m so—!”

You’re cut off with a squeak as he embraces you. He gently holds you as you begin to sob in his arms, choking out incoherent apologies. Your arms wrap around him tightly, fearing that if you let go, he’ll disappear again.

“I— hic, I missed you so much! I-I’m sorry! Please don’t— don’t leave me again!”

His heart breaks at your pleas. Wordlessly, he strokes your back to calm you, allowing you to cry into his shoulder. He watches as you tremble and shake, mumbling to yourself. Dark Cacao Cookie begins to quietly stroke your back as he gently grabs a hold of your face. Smiling comfortingly, his thumb swipes your tears away, ignoring how some tears have escaped his eyes as well.

“It’s alright, my love. I am here. I’ve missed you as well.”

[mostfandomfanatic]

Because It's You

Part 1 - Dance of the Heart

Astarion x Fem!Reader

Summary: Astarion offers to teach you how to dance, which brings the two of you closer, in more ways than one.

Word Count: 3,581

Warnings: vampire bite, blood, gets a little steamy, but no smut in part 1. Astarion might be a little ooc. Might have a few typos.

ao3 link: Because It's You - Astarion x Reader

Upbeat music and the rhythmic tapping of dancers flooded the ballroom. Bittersweetly, you smiled at the couples all dancing in sync, their bodies pressed tightly together and their feet gliding across the marble floor in perfect time. You hated to admit it, but you were jealous of them. You loved to dance, but have never been able to understand these practiced, choreographed dances. You’d much rather dance to a beat of your own, moving freely and without care. But unfortunately, this wasn't the time nor place.

So here you were, hidden away, nursing some sort of fancy wine that you didn’t understand how anyone enjoyed.

“There you are,” Wyll’s voice came from behind, “I was wondering where you got off to, didn't think you’d be hiding away in the corner.”

In all honesty, you had been avoiding him, you hoped that where you stood now behind the crowd was discrete enough, but obviously not. You were well aware of Wyll’s dancing prowess, and with the way he had been eyeing you recently, stealing glances at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice, the man seemed to be smitten. You knew it was only a matter of time until he asked you for a dance, or for something more in your friendship. You knew you had limited time to come up with a nice way to turn him down. You didn't want to hurt his feelings, you cherished your friendship, but you couldn't be his partner, on the dance floor or in life.

All because of your two left feet, and your feelings for another.

“Ah well, I suppose this is more your scene than it is mine.” You gestured towards the dancers.

“You know me well,” he chuckles. “Actually, I was just coming over here to say that you look lovely tonight, and to ask you for a dance.” 

Wyll holds out his hand for you to accept. And you want to accept, you really do, but you can’t. Not with all the eyes around to see you struggle and fail at a task that they made seem so simple, so effortless. You couldn't accept, not with Wyll's hopeful eyes looking at you like you are made of light itself.

“Thank you, Wyll, but as tempting as your offer is, I have to decline. Perhaps Shadowheart would like a dance.” You tipped your glass in the half-elf girl's direction behind him, and while Wylls head was turned, you slipped away. You made your escape out the doors to the garden, not daring to look back to see the surly hurt look on Wyll’s face.

The garden was much less crowded, but still occupied by a few couples who wanted to enjoy a more private setting. You avoided making eye contact with any of them and entered the garden's maze. The hedges were tall and lush, you'd dare to even say overgrown, which hopefully meant no else had dared to enter. At the center of the maze was a quaint fountain, seemingly left untouched, given the murky water and the vines growing up along the sides, and the stone path was now covered in moss and grass. It was clear that keeping the maze in good condition was not of the hosts top priorities.

You took a deep breath and sighed, using the tip of your finger to make ripples in the murky water. From here, you could still faintly hear the music. Taking a closer look at the hedges, you noticed that through the thick leaves, no one could see you, and you doubt anyone else would come in here with the state it was in. Here, far from prying eyes, you could dance however you wanted.

You closed your eyes and tuned your ears solely to the music, letting the rest of the world fade away. The melody flooded your senses, the rhythm washing over your body as if a spell was casted upon you, guiding your movements. You danced without fear, uninhibited.

Your dance was slow and graceful. Like the harmony of the cello, deep and dark.

All too soon, the music came to an end, and so did your dance. You smiled breathlessly, your body feeling lighter than air, and your mind in a haze. It had been so long since you had let yourself dance, you wondered why you ever stopped.

The sound of applause brought you out of your trance.

You turned to see who had caught you, only to find the man who had stolen your heart. The pale elf himself.

“Astarion? How long have you been there?” You shifted awkwardly behind the fountain, as if to hide, as if you hadn't already been caught.

“Long enough, darling” he spoke, taking slow, casual strides to meet you at the other side of the fountain. “What are you doing dancing out here when there’s a perfectly good ballroom inside?”

He called you darling, you wondered if he could tell what it did to you, how you yearned for him to call you that again. He always seemed to know how to rile you up, with his constant flirting and teasing, his voice alone was enough to send pleasant chills down your spine.

You had grown closer in the past few weeks, ever since that first night you had let him feed from you. He had even opened up to you about his past and shown you his scars. He told you about how his terrible master treated him, how he was forced to use his body, how you were his first taste of a thinking creature's blood.

With every night he fed from you, as you enjoyed his gentle, cold embrace, how it seemed to last longer and longer each time, you knew falling for him was inevitable. And the way he’d care for you after, cleaning up the blood trailing down your neck from his bite, whispering a healing spell. You liked to think all of it meant he felt the same.

“I just needed some fresh air, and well, I guess I got carried away.”

“I see.” He studies you for a moment, his red eyes looking you up and down. You adorned a dress gifted by the host, a beautiful gown, satin, red. The flowing sleeves hang off your shoulders, exposing your collarbones and neck. Admittingly, you had picked it with him in mind. The moment you saw it, you had thought about wearing it for him, his hands against the fabric around your waist as he pulls you into him, lips kissing your skin, fangs brushing against your neck.

Your face burned hot under his gaze. Although you were used to his flirtatious personality, it still never failed to make you nervous. You wondered if he could tell how inexperienced you were when it came to things like this; the flirting, the touching, the teasing. Intimacy. Even though you have been physically close before—all the times he fed from you—you had never crossed the line. You wanted to, but would he? Would he want to be with someone so inexperienced? Would he want to be with you? These were the thoughts that haunted your mind at night, when you could still feel his touch lingering on your skin after he’d feed from you.

You distracted yourself from your thoughts by fiddling with one of the vines that had grown to the top of the fountain. “And what about you, Astarion? What brought you out here when all the fun to be had is inside?”

He moved to stand next to you, leaning on the edge of the fountain, turning his head to watch you as you began to trace over the cracks in the stone.

“I saw you make your little escape. Poor Wyll was looking like a kicked pup when you left. What did you say to him?” he asked, head rolling to the side.

“He asked me to dance, and I declined,” you shrugged.

“Really? And why would you do that?” His voice was teasing. He knew you harbored no romantic feelings for the warlock, you had told him so. Still, you answered honestly.

“Because I didn't want to lead him on. Besides, I wouldn't have been a very good dance partner.”

“After what I just witnessed, I'm sure that's not true.” His voice took a softer tone, one that offered comfort, one that he only used with you.

“I can’t dance like everyone else. I know the steps, I've practiced them alone a thousand times, but with a partner it's different. It's always so fast and I can never keep up. I just want to take it slow. No one can see me out here so I just started dancing… because I do like dancing.” You were mumbling like a fool at this point, looking down at your feet and fidgeting with your hands.

“I could tell. You looked… free.” The gentleness of his voice drew your gaze up to his. There was a somber, yet curious look in his eyes, and a hint of something you couldn’t quite place.

You cleared your throat, “I do wish I could dance though, properly dance, I mean. It would come in handy for events like these in the future. If we ever save a noble from a group of knolls and they invite us to be their guests of honor again.”

“Some guest of honor we are, hiding away in this dreadful maze,” he joked, “You know, I'm well versed in the waltz. I suppose I could teach you, if you'd like.”

“Really? I didn't know you could dance.”

“Of course I can dance,” he scoffed, “it was one of the many things Cazador forced us to know. Like you said, it comes in handy.”

Your heart sank. Cazador. Astarions master. You knew little of the wretched man, only what Astarion had felt comfortable sharing with you. All the pain and torture he had been put through, it made you sick. When you got to Baldur's Gate, the first thing you planned to do was storm his palace and stain it in his blood.

“I don’t want to bring up any painful memories for you,” you said. With his finger, he lifted your chin to meet your gaze. He was smiling softly. A rare sight that you wish you could hold forever.

“It’ll be different this time,” he said with confidence.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“I am.”

“Are you sure you’re sure? Because you really don’t-”

“Darling,” he interrupted, silencing you. Then, with his hand still holding your head gently in place, he lifted his thumb to brush against your bottom lip. “I'm sure, because it’s you.”

In an instant, all your doubt and worry washed away and was replaced with a fluttering in your heart.

“Well as long as you’re sure, I would love for you to teach me,” you said with a shy smile, your face flushing with heat, your body shivering in anticipation. 

He offered his hand to you, and you gladly accepted, letting him pull you in, his other hand finding purchase at your waist. He was so close, you wondered if he could hear how fast your heart was beating.

 “We’ll take it slow, just follow my lead,” he said, his voice low, rumbling in your ear.

He guided you into the correct position, taking your hand in his and pulling you in with a gentle tug at your waist. The feeling of his cold touch sending shivers up your spine. His hand traveled up your back slowly before settling in the center.

Before you could say a word, Astarion began guiding you through the steps. You followed along as best you could. Two steps forward. A step to the left. It was simple. So why couldn't you get it right?

Though, of course, you knew why. It was him. It was the way Astarions hand held yours firmly, securely. You felt safe, he would catch you if you were to stumble. It was the way his other hand had traveled down, resting at the small of your back, tugging you closer to him when you fell behind. It was the way his hair fell over his face gracefully, how you wanted to run your fingers through those pearl colored curls.

And his arms, the way your hand rested against his sleeve still able to feel the hidden muscle underneath. The way he sometimes wore his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the thick veins that ran down to his wrists.

And his hands. His long, nimble fingers holding yours tight.

A low chuckle brought you out of your lust driven haze.

“Getting distracted already?” Astarion teased.

“No, I was just-”

A sudden turn in the dance caused you to stumble into his chest. Astarion laughed as your face flushed with embarrassment, but he never let go, he carried on, gently guiding you back into position.

You gathered all your willpower and focused on the dance and not the feeling of his body pressed against yours. You took a glance down at your feet to watch his footing, assuring you were following the steps properly.

He stopped abruptly. You looked up at him, curious if you had done something wrong. He let go of your hand and brought his to lift your chin again.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. You nodded, words failing you as he pulled you back into him, closer than before.

You tried to focus on the melody, you tried to focus on anything but the cool, firm feeling of his touch, but you couldn't. He was so close, your bodies pressed together, your faces mere inches away, and the way his red eyes traced over your features, landing on your lips. You couldn’t focus on anything except for how much you wanted him to kiss you, to touch you, to do anything he desired.

Something inside you churned and twisted. Thoughts beginning to rise again. Would he even want to kiss you? Would he want to be with you?

Astarion halted again, sighing as he said, “Darling, what did I say?” He took your chin firmly until you met his gaze again. Your eyes glassy with unshed tears. “My dear, what is wrong? You were dancing wonderfully.”

“It’s not that,” you shake your head, his hand falling from your chin.

“My love, tell me-“

“Please, don’t call me that,” you finally said, your voice hollow. A pain had struck your heart as he called you that, his love. Did he really mean it like that, the way you wanted it to mean? You wanted to be his, you wanted him to want you, so much so you could barely think of anything else.

“What? Why?” He asked, his brows furrowed and his voice ringing with a genuine hurt.

“Because it is too painful to hear you call me that and not mean it. Not the way I desire it to mean.”

Astarion stared at you wide-eyed, before letting out a laugh. His head rolled back, a wholehearted chuckle escaping his lips.

“Why are you laughing?” You asked, hurt, thinking that he was laughing at your feelings.

“You really can be so naïve, my dear. How have you not realized it by now?”

“Realized what?”

“For gods sake,” his eyes rolled as he grasped your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “I'm in love with you.”

I'm in love with you.

He’s in love with you.

He loves you.

“You are?” You asked, your voice small, in shock.

“Yes,” he laughed again, “how in Faerûn have you not noticed by now? After all the nights we’ve shared.”

“I didn’t think those nights meant the same to you,” you admitted.

“My love, they meant everything to me.”

He rested his forehead gently against yours as he enveloped you in his embrace. You nudged your head closer, silently asking him for permission. He smiled down at you and closed the space between you himself, placing a sweet, tender kiss upon your lips.

You relished in the feeling of finally having his lips on yours before you began to pull away, but he wasn't satisfied. His hands fell to your hips, pulling you into him, his lips chasing yours to kiss you again.

The sweet kiss quickly turned into something more, something carnal, his tongue prying between your lips, looking for entrance. You gave into him instantly, his tongue swiftly entering your mouth, claiming every inch as his own. His hands moved to explore your waist, his fingers tempting at the laces of your corset.

Unfortunately, you needed to breathe. You gently pushed against his chest until he reluctantly released you, but kept you wrapped in his embrace.

“You have no idea how long I've waited for this,” he said, resting his forehead against yours.

“You should have said something sooner,” you laugh breathlessly.

“I would have, but I wanted things to be different with you.”

“Different how?” you leaned back to see his face, there was nothing but adoration in his gaze.

“I could have seduced you. I could have repeated every line I’ve ever used over the past two hundred years, I did at first, but I found myself unable to continue to do so with you. You trusted me, with your life, with your blood, which was arguably a dumb decision on your part,” he teased, pinching at your side.

You gasp playfully, pushing away from him. He pulled you right back.

“What I’m attempting to say is… you’re different from those in the past. You're not some conquest, and I didn’t want to resort to my usual methods with you. I wanted whatever this is between us to be real. I want us to be real.”

“I want that too.” You smiled up at him.

“Well darling, how about one last dance?” he asked, holding his hand out to you again.

“As long as it's with you,” you said, taking his hand. He pulled you in with a spin.

He held you as close as he could, taking every opportunity to admire your face, staring at you with every ounce of love he held for you. And you did the same, taking your time to memorize every detail of his handsome face, every freckle, every perfect curl.

With one last spin, you ended your dance with your back against his chest, his arm around your waist, hand resting just below your breasts, his other still holding yours tightly. You rest your other hand on top of his as you attempt to catch your breath.

The song had ended, but he hadn’t let go, even when your grasp on his hands loosened, his did not. He held yours tighter, pulled you closer. Your breath hitched, and you could feel him smirk into your neck. Slowly, sensually, he brought your intertwined hands to his lips, and pressed a gentle kiss to your flesh. His hand moved to your wrist and his lips followed, his eyes closed as his lips pressed against your pulse. He holds your wrist still, leaving a trail of tender kisses up your arm, you release a breathy sigh and let your head fall back onto his shoulder. His lips continue up over your shoulder to your nape, then finally to the pulse of your neck.

“May I?” he whispers. You know what he's asking for.

“Please,” you say softly, offering your neck to him.

He wasted no time, piercing your neck with his fangs. The pain felt like ice-cold daggers, but dulled quickly, dissolving into that familiar pleasant feeling, a heat that spreads throughout your entire body.

His grip on you tightened, his teeth digging deeper into your neck as he all but devoured you.

“Astarion,” you moaned in pleasure, and as warning. He pulled away reluctantly, a trail of your blood running down his chin. You turned in his embrace and raised your hand to wipe away the streak of crimson, but, in a moment of curiosity, you put your finger in your mouth and sucked up every last drop. Your blood tasted of iron and salt, but thinking of Astarion, how this was his very life force, it made the flavor oh so sweet, knowing that you were keeping him alive and well, and happy. You met his gaze again, his eyes blazing with a different hunger. Arousal.

His mouth was on yours before you could say a word, his tongue prying between your lips, searching for something. He was searching for that last taste of your blood that was now on your tongue.

You let him lead, as if you had a choice.

He held you firmly in place, his hands now resting at the sides of your neck, thumbs pressed against your jaw. He angled your head up, deepening the kiss. He swallowed up every moan you couldn’t help but let out.

“Shit…” he gasped, breaking away from you. But he didn't go far, resting his forehead against yours as you attempted to catch your breath. “You are full of surprises.”

You laughed breathlessly and nuzzled into him. In return, he rested his cheek on top of your head, slowly beginning to sway to the next song.

“Thank you for being so patient with me,” you said softly, afraid to break the sweet moment with words. 

 You felt him smile, and place a gentle kiss upon your head.

“Perhaps all you needed was the right partner.”

[marlsswrites]

Summer camp AU, part 10!!

July 10th <3

Marathon - @jegulus-microfic - words: 1020

First part Previous part

It was a beautiful, hot, summers day. What Regulus would normally love to do on a day like this, would be to lounge around in the shade, his fair complexion turns the colour of a tomato in the sun way too fast for his liking, grab a good book, and finish it before going to sleep.

But like he said, that's his ideal day if he wasn't at a summer camp in the middle of August. That is why right now, he's watching kids wait around and chatter excitedly about the water fight that James had been planning all morning. They had water balloons, water guns, actual buckets of water, quite literally everything.

James did receive a lecture on the water guns from Regulus after he shot the younger boy with one of them, he said it was 'by accident' but it most certainly wasn't judging from the shit eating grin on the other boys face as he bit his lip to tone down his smile. Admittedly, that made Regulus fucking crumble on the spot the way he sucked his lip through his teeth.

"Are you ready?" James bounced at his side, tugging at his arm to pull him up from the table. Regulus obliged in a second, letting James drag him up from his seat, only receiving an eyebrow raise from Regulus in return.

"Ready for what exactly? To watch teenagers throw water at each other?" He sarcastically remarked, waving his silver ringed hands at the group of kids.

"Nope." He patted Regulus on the shoulder and popped the 'P' at the end of his statement. "Hayley merely suggested that we join in, so we are." Beaming, the other boy watched as Regulus' face turned from bored to fuming within a few seconds of each other. "Oh no-"

"James fucking Potter, you actual idiot. I will not be-"

James cut him off, pouting and offering his best puppy eyes look as he tugged on a black silky ringlet falling in front of Regulus' eyes. "Please?"

Mesmerised, Regulus stood there and gazed into every aspect of James' face. He could feel James' slightly cool fingertips on his cheek, he could see his ring adorned thumb right in front of his eyes, he swore he could even hear his own heart beating in his reddening ears. God, he's angelic, Regulus was sure if you looked close enough you could see the man glowing. His face was the definition of ethereal, skin turned golden brown in the hazy morning sunlight, eyes hooded and wide as a curious child's.

At that moment in time, he felt a freezing, stinging, splash at the back of his head. He whipped around, forcing James' sinful hand away from his face, now turning to see a boy with mousy brown messy hair, stood tall and grinning at him.

"Don't be a wimp, come on Regulus!" His sly smirk widened. Regulus turned back to face James, who had stuffed his fist over his mouth which was failing to hide his matched smirk to the younger boy.

"Oh god there's two of them." Regulus looked at James, pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. Now he just purposely locked eyes with James before yelling. "Whoever targets James gets extra marshmallows tonight!"

That was all it took for the kids to scramble up, loading their water guns in the clear blue lake and picked up their buckets of water balloons, then firing them at a running James, who clumsily flipped Regulus off over his shoulder before attempting to run away again.

Satisfied with himself, Regulus sat right back down on the bench, pulling his knees up to his chest and propping his head up on them.

-

Nearly fifteen minutes later, James throws his hands up in the air, collapsing on the grass in front of a smirking Regulus and throwing his head back on the floor. He closed his eyes and flapped his hands out to the side. "I surrender, or whatever! Leave me alone." He groaned and brought his hands up to rub over his face.

"Did you have fun?" Regulus smiled down at the boy in front of him, trying his best not to fall off the bench when he noticed the way his white shirt was practically see through and clung to him like skin. Regulus could see everything, and by gods he was not complaining, the shirt sunk into the pivots on his skin and rounded at his abs and the sharp yet smooth v-line descending into his shorts.

Fuck, okay, deep breaths.

It's nothing he hasn't seen before, he's sharing a room with James, but in his defence he does react something like this every time. Normally he just opts to peeking out over the top of his book that his focus was long gone on.

"Are-" He panted. "You-" He took another breath. "Proud of yourself?" James finished, with a kick of his soaked through shoe at Regulus' leg.

"Very." Regulus declared, indeed very proudly, before snorting and deciding to slide off the bench and sit next to James.

"God, I feel like I just ran a marathon." James huffed out a long breath and picked up his very dishevelled head to look at Regulus with an almost impressed look.

Regulus ran a hand through his hair, laughing slightly. "Think you nearly did." He paused for a thought. "How far did you actually go?"

"Other side of camp." James mumbled.

Regulus bit back a now even louder laugh, judging from the fact that this is one of the largest camps in the UK, and that it took him about twenty minutes to walk to Sirius' cabin on the other side of the campus.

"I saw your friend Barty, he didn't help out though he just tried to trip me up... and succeeded." James said thoughtfully, whacking Regulus on the thigh when he started laughing.

"I'm very proud of him." Regulus tilted his head at James, who sat up, folded his arms and glared at Regulus for a record breaking five seconds before cracking a wide smile. The younger boy soon followed to match it with a fond eye roll.

Next part

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

TW: Rape, TW: Sexual Assault, TW: Knife play, TW: Groping, TW: Drugging, TW: Kidnapping, TW: Forced Sex/Orgasm

This is the darkest chapter in this story by far. So, if any of the above are not your cup of tea, please don't read this chapter. I truly don't want to trigger anyone.

Ghost POV:

As he crept through the thick foliage of the forest, Ghost chuckled at how easy this was proving to be. It was almost as if she had left a trail of flashing signs in her wake, each one blaring "I went this way! Come get me!". Her tiny little footprints stood out so clearly against the fallen branches and leaves. And she had disturbed enough tall grass to make her trajectory crystal clear.

Ghost crouched as he approached a fallen tree limb, carefully inspecting the story its markings retold. A short streak of shredded leaves crested over its rounded edge. Two large indentations dug into the earth immediately beyond it. And a messy pile of scattered leaves and dirt was right just ahead, bearing a print that resembled an outstretched hand.

She'd tripped and fallen here. So focused on what could be behind her that she neglected to look ahead. Ghost could almost taste her fear lingering in the air. The sweat on her skin as she pushed herself to exhaustion. She was wearing herself out. Good.

Reader POV:

The forest was so dark, you had to squint to see anything at all. It took a while for your eyes to begin to adjust, and you had plenty of cuts and scrapes to prove it. But once they had, you continued your frantic sprint through the seemingly endless forest.

You were never much of an outdoors person. The idea of voluntarily abandoning the comfort and convenience of home was the opposite to fun in your mind. So, when your parents had once tried to talk you into doing a wilderness survival youth camp, you'd shot them down without a thought. Little did you know, years later, you'd be kicking yourself for not jumping at the chance. Knowing how to find your way would have been really useful at the present moment.

Regardless, you pressed on. Any direction was fine by you as long as it was away from Ghost. He was probably already on the move by now, tracking you like a nightmarish hunter. So you tried to be both as fast and stealthy as possible.

It didn't take long before your legs began to tire, though. You'd maintained a near full sprint from the second you'd gotten out of his car. But you still couldn't see anything but trees as far as you could see.

As frustration set in, you decided it was time to change strategy and switch from escaping to hiding. Slowing to a stop, you scanned your surroundings in search of any cover whatsoever. The forest had gone quiet. Too quiet. So, wherever you decided to hide, you needed to find it fast.

Off to your right, there was a small cluster of bushes. Their leaves looked thick enough to conceal your form just enough in the darkness. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough. If you could just hang on until he wandered past you in his search, maybe you could double back and steal the jeep. Mind made up, you crept over towards your chosen hiding spot.

Out of nowhere, the steady silence was broken by the sound of a dislodged pebble bouncing off a nearby tree. You dropped to a low crouch, head whipping in the sound's direction. You couldn’t see anything, but that didn't mean he wasn't out there somewhere. It wasn’t until a full minute had passed without another sound that you moved again. You just had to get to those bushes.

Ghost POV:

Just as he'd anticipated, Ghost caught up with her in not much time at all. In her panic, she'd unknowingly zigzagged her way all over the place and likely believed she'd gotten much farther than she actually had. He moved like his namesake, floating through the darkness like a silent and deadly specter. The thought of having her to himself was plenty to speed him along his way. But the adrenaline rush of the hunt made it that much more exhilarating. When he finally spotted her, she was hunched over in a small clearing. He knelt into the brush and watched as she stood there, heaving for breath and clearly unsure of what to do next. Eyes now locked on his target, he switched his night vision goggles into thermal mode. He wanted details. Her silhouette came through in a bright collage of reds and oranges. Her body temp was high. And her respiratory and heart rates had spiked too. The numbers don't lie. She was nice and scared, as she should be.

After silently spectating for a bit, Ghost noticed her heart rate slow ever so slightly as she began moving towards a small clump of bushes. So she'd found a hiding spot. He smirked and grabbed a small rock. Without making a sound, he sent it flying through the air until it clattered against a tree behind her. The way she dove for cover and whipped her head around was quite entertaining. And just like that, her pulse spiked right back up again.

"Can't have you getting too relaxed, now can we?" Ghost mused, grabbing another rock. He patiently waited until she moved again. And as soon as she did, he took aim at a tree in an entirely different direction than the first and let it fly.

Reader POV:

Your head was on a swivel now as you fought the impending panic. Every time you thought the coast was clear, you'd hear something else. And every sound was coming from different directions! It couldn't be him. There's no way he could've caught you that quickly after such a head start!

But despite your logic, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somewhere just beyond your field of view. Abandoning the thought of hiding, you jumped to your feet and took off running all over again. But you had barely taken your second stride when something large and heavy slammed against your back.

A pair of muscled arms locked around your waist as your legs were roughly kicked out from beneath you. You landed on your knees, immediately clawing at the air behind you to grab any part of him that you could reach.

"No!" The word came out of you in a shrill cry of desperation. It was blood curdling. It was raw. "Ghost, please!"

Those words were all you could produce. You kicked and screamed as he wrestled you to the ground, forcing your face into the dirt.

"Don't be a sore loser now," Ghost chuckled, flipping you onto your back and forcing his body between your legs. "You had your chance. You lost. Game over."

You squirmed, arms flailing in a feeble attempt to hit him. But he was quick to respond, grabbing them both at the wrist and pinning them above your head. He effortlessly held them in place with one hand as he sat back, enjoying your helpless state below him.

"Now," he said, roughly shoving your dress up to your waist. "Let's see what I've won."

A muffled sob escaped your lips as the cool night air washed over your bare lower half. You could practically feel the heat of his gaze as his eyes flitted down to where your thighs met. Through his mask, he grabbed the fabric of his glove and slipped it off before tossing it away. Maintaining steady eye contact, he slipped his hand between your legs. His skin felt cold against your skin as he prodded at your exposed sex.

"Well, well, well," he murmured, running the back of his knuckles over your sensitive folds. "Look who's already nice and wet for me. Does König know what a dirty girl you really are?"

You snarled with fear and fury, twisting your legs to kick him. But you soon found yourself arching your back with a gasped whimper as his fingers plunged into your depths without warning. He met your eyes unflinchingly, almost defiantly, determined not to miss even the smallest detail of your response.

"I don't want this," you moaned, resisting the twinge of pleasure you felt as his fingers repeatedly curled inside you.

"You really think you can lie to me right now?" He smirked, lifting his thumb to torment your clit as his fingers began thrusting into you. "Your greedy little cunt was practically dripping before I'd even touched you. No, you want this. You want me to hurt you. And I'm gonna hurt you so good, princess."

You couldn’t fight him. And you couldn't stop your body from translating his heated assault into the beginnings of arousal. All you could do was tremble at his touch as his fingers drove into the most sensitive places with deadly precision. And every moan his actions produced only seemed to spur him on.

As his fingers continued pushing in and out of your core, he released your wrists and produced a small knife. You immediately tried and failed to inch yourself away from him, fearing he would use it to maim or even kill. But you froze as he leaned forward and pressed the blade against your throat. Never in your life had you been so still, afraid even the slightest breath would cause the blade to slip below the surface of your skin.

Ghost pushed the blade down with measured pressure, stopping just after a drop of blood welled up at the knife's edge. But he didn't press any further. Instead, he trailed the knife down the length of your body. The blade cut through the front of your dress like butter, but Ghost still made sure to nick your skin every now and then along the way. And you didn't need clarification on his unspoken threat. He could kill you a million ways without remorse or hesitation. It wouldn't take much.

Just as quickly as it had appeared, the knife vanished back into his vest as he returned his full attention to forcing his fingers as deep into your body as they could go. He spread them, experimentally stretching you out. But he let out a hissed moan as your body instinctively resisted, clenching tightly around his fingers.

"Bloody hell, you're tight. I bet he liked that didn't he?"

Finally, he withdrew his hand and forced you to watch as he admired the way the moonlight made your wetness glisten on his skin. Lifting the bottom of his mask, he took his time tasting you.

"And so sweet, too. But don't worry, he won't be on your mind much longer."

Your breath picked up as he unfastened his belt, easing it out of its loops before unzipping his pants. As he eased his clothing down his thighs, his stiffened manhood came free from its confinement and bounced heavily against your inner thigh. And the sight terrified you. Though he was a similar length to König, it was the girth of his sex that frightened you. If you thought König was a tight fit, there was no way Ghost could cram all of that inside you without significant pain.

You whimpered, shaking your head as you tried to press your thighs together. But the rejection only earned a growl of warning from Ghost as he forced them open even wider. He raised his hips, rubbing the firm head of his cock against your delicate lips and moaning as your wetness coated him liberally.

"Do you know long I've waited for this, princess?" He panted, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. "How long I had to stand back and watch his hands on you, just waiting for a chance to do this to you?"

"Ghost, please don't do this," you pleaded, a startled gasp of pain quickly following as he began to push against your entrance. "It's not going to fit!"

"From where I'm standing," he said, voice gone rough with arousal. "It'll fit just fine."

With a firm and brutal thrust, Ghost snapped his hips forward and impaled you on his length. It hurt. It hurt a lot. And the searing pain carried on as you screamed for him to stop. But he just kept going, developing a steady pace as he forced your body to adjust to the intrusion faster than it was able. As you writhed in pain at the onslaught, Ghost gave no indication that he would slow down.

"Go ahead and scream," he taunted with a curt laugh before groaning as your walls constricted around him as if to push him out. "No one's gonna hear you, princess. There's no one out here for miles. Just you and me. Just like it should have been from the start."

Every movement of his hips sent white hot pain rippling through your body. Your back stung as stray pine needles embedded themselves deeper into your skin with each thrust. You had nothing left to convince him and no way to make him stop. All you could do was lie there and grit your teeth through the pain, hoping that your tearful pleas would trigger whatever meager scrap of mercy he had in him. But as he increased the brutal pace, you were certain he had none whatsoever. You screwed your eyes shut, trying to block out reality. Trying to dull the pain. Trying to stop feeling anything at all as the pain began to brush dangerously close to pleasure. But his hand closed around your throat, forcing you to face him as he clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Eyes on me. I want you to know exactly who made you feel this good. I wanna pound every last memory of him out of your system until all that's left is me."

The very next thrust was all pleasure as his length made solid impact with your cervix. You couldn't stop the needy moan it produced. He knew exactly what he was doing. The choking, the roughness, all of it. You couldn't stop it from somehow feeling good. And the thought that such cruel treatment made you feel even the smallest bit of pleasure was beginning to break you. You wanted him to stop. You were still begging him to stop! But your body was now begging for the exact opposite. And you could tell from the cocky look in his eyes that he was well aware of that fact.

"Is someone getting close?"

"No," you gasped, despite the incessant moans you couldn't hold back. You looked away with a choked sob. "Oh my god! Oh fuck!"

He tightened his grip on your neck, leaning down to moan in your ear. "I think you're lying."

The punishing pace began to steadily increase as he pounded you into the forest floor with reckless abandon. With his thumb, he pressed down on the precise spot the knife had cut you and groaned as you hissed in pain. A steady string of curses rasped against your ear as he chased his own impending climax. And despite your best efforts, your own wasn't far behind. Short spasms tore through your inner walls, giving Ghost delicious tastes of what was soon to come as he grunted with pleasure.

"Tell me," he growled, panting against your shoulder. His voice was growing strained and desperate as his pace rapidly began to fall out of rhythm. "Tell me you've never been fucked this good in your life. Tell me I'm better. Tell me who owns this dirty little cunt."

You let out a strangled moan, feeling your body begin to tremble as your orgasm approached. But he wasn't satisfied. That wasn't what he wanted. He released your throat, and you gasped for breath as his hand seized your chin, enveloping your jawline nearly from ear to ear. His eyes were wild and the slightest bit unhinged as he pressed his face against yours.

"I wanna hear you say it! Tell me who owns you. Fucking say it!"

You sobbed as the unwanted pleasure overwhelmed you. You were in no place to resist him. You had no choice but to give him what he wanted if you wanted to survive.

Humiliated and afraid, tears streamed down your face as you spoke the words he demanded to hear, and your climax overtook you. "You do!"

His body stiffened above you as he clutched your hips, throwing his head back with a guttural cry as your walls spasmed around his length. And as your core increased in tightness, you felt him twitch deep inside you as the warmth of his orgasm was forced even deeper with each fading thrust.

Once he was finally spent, he pulled out. His chest heaved as he savored the rush of endorphins coursing through him, admiring his handiwork as he did. He liked what he saw. The tears that poured down your cheeks, the bruises that marked your body, the pale liquid seeping out of your abused sex. He liked all of it.

As for you, you couldn't move. Your body felt numb. You felt detached from reality, and you didn't want to ever come back to it. So you laid there, sprawled out where he'd left you. Dissociated and happy to remain so. Because anything else would be too painful to bear. You didn't even fight when you felt the familiar prick of a needle against your neck. And as the darkness closed in, you welcomed it. You hoped it would never lift. You hoped you'd never again have to hear the words Ghost was murmuring into your ear.

"Good girl."

I know this story includes some pretty dark themes. But at the end of the day, I care more about the well-being of my readers than I do for hits or kudos. Period. I never want my writing to conjure up emotions or feelings that negatively impact you beyond the story. This story can be dark and uncomfortable at times. But it is always intended strictly for fun and fantasy. If at any point along the way it stops being a pleasurable experience, please please close this page and walk away. My stories are never worth your well-being, loves.

[immoralimmortals]

Akatsuki members as perfumes i own

I couldn't sleep last night because I am haunted by visions that are so very specific to me and my needs. These are all indie company perfumes currently available for purchase or seasonally available. I am a creature of my senses, and therefore I am not bound only with the curse of associating music with characters, but also scents.

Pain: The People You Love Become Ghosts Inside You from Death & Floral

Description: Heavenly musk, lingering funeral flowers, cold scent of vanilla in an empty corridor, handprints on a foggy window

This is a scent known by its fans to invoke deep emotion. It has funeral lillies to a T. The title is the main reason for my choice, though I can imagine him smelling like this. It's the definition of cold and formal, like the corpses he drags to do his bidding.

🥀

Konan: Mnemophilia from Nui Cobalt Designs

Description: Stately gardenia, antique sandalwood, Florentine iris, pearl musk, jasmine absolute, neroli, and liquidambar.

This is a scent which contains notes I have not experienced anywhere else. It is like...you took the idea of a mirror and gave it a smell? It is pristine, classy, and oh so very melancholy. It makes me thoughtful, it reminds me of glass or crystal. Another "cold" scent, similar to Pain's but more of a sister than an imitation of it. Less about death and more about memory, as the name entails.

I also considered Billet Doux from Possets, which is meant to evoke a perfume-stained love letter. Also very clean and classy, but actually brings the impression of paper and ink. Also noticeably a lot sweeter than Mnemophilia! Perhaps more for her when she was young and in love.

📷

Obito: The Emperor of Ice Cream from The Strange South

Description: Limp flowers on a windowsill, strawberry ice cream, tobacco leaves, tonka, and a dribble of young blood.

Saccharine with something to hide. The blood note on its own (i was able to try it) is actually very fruity, like strawberry. I think the visualization of dripping blood and strawberry syrup being the same is wonderful. The tobacco comes through as the scent fades, becoming more mature over time.

👑

Zetsu: A Roll in the Hay from Alkemia

Description: dried hay, fresh green grass, early summer wildflower honey, vanilla grass, vanilla leaf, and wild poppy.

This one really just smells authentically like true to life hay. I can't wear it all the time but it's so, so distinct when I do. It's a scent for when I want to imagine I'm all alone, deep in a field of tall, dried grass. The only thing is that it is probably far too innocent for him. He would not *want* to smell like this.

But I do. Because it's great.

...Okay he'd actually smell like Esprit de la Terre from Alkemia which smells like pine trees, but I don't like pine trees! I'm going to make him suffer and smell like vanilla.

🌾

Hidan: Damned Nightfall from Death & Floral

This scent is fucking purple lmao. The violets are a little powdery, like the visage of something pure, and the rest is DARK. It clings to my skin with those deep resins first and foremost like incense being burned. Despite all the food notes, not one lick of sweetness, frankly not a bit of edibility. This is a badass vibe like a jaguar hunting in the dark. It bites if I put too much on.

Description: the deepest and darkest amber blended with violets, black labdanum, vanilla absolute, espresso absolute, fresh cocoa beans, and honey

There are scents that exist that mean to invoke the smell of blood, but none of them are real enough to suit him. However, the metallic nature of Scythe from Possets is very impressive and real with a suitable name for the Jashinist.

🌒

Kakuzu: JFK and Jackie from Possets

First and foremost, this scent is old school. The leather reminds me of what Kakuzu's skin may be like; I read a fic way back describing his earth grudge causing it to have that kind of texture. Perhaps this is what he'd smell like if you somehow convinced him to give you a hug. You know. Somehow.

Description: A snap of the finest leather, a bit of oakmoss, combined with tabac blonde essence, a whiff of tea, and the warmth of silk. 

There are scents that smell like money, but I do not actually like the scent of money. I'm sorry Kakuzu.

☕

Deidara: Morton Salt Girl from Death & Floral

I know salt doesn't smell. I know it doesn't. But this is what salt smells like. If you ever get opportunity to try this, do it. It's so unique. I think this would be a wonderful scent to imagine for his clay; it is so distinctly earthy, and the salty aspect reminds me of smelling playdoh as a kid (and putting it into my mouth).

Description: yellow musk, salt, and rain on concrete.

🧂

Sasori: Forbidden Library from Nui Cobalt

This is what his puppets smell like. It's what they smell like! I do not make the rules! It is deep, it is softly masculine, it is beautifully woody. This is the phantom that haunts the abandoned castle library, who crawls out of the ancient tome in your fingers.

Description: The vanillic scent of aging paper infused with ceremonial incense, venerable bookshelves of black oak and sweet himalayan cedarwood, a hint of mossy stone, and an undercurrent of faded suede.

Bonus points: this is one of the few perfumes I reach for on the weekly. It's so, so pleasant.

📜

Kisame: Two Cups of Tea, a Monsoon, Me and You from Death & Floral

Description: rain on cracked soil, wet creosote, a swelling monsoon, desert cedar, black tea. 

I am one of the only people that seem to take this as floral. The storm is there, it is humid and sticky and moist like rain in the summer, but I distinctly get flowers behind it all. I think it suits him. (And it is one of few aquatic scents that don't smell like laundry to me nor like cut grass).

☔

Itachi: Ghostfire from Alkemia

Has the distinct impression of paleness against a night sky, like a star or a will-o-wisp. It's a strange but haunting combo of melting candle wax and melon. There is a sugared and floral version of this scent called Foxfire, which perhaps encapsulates him before everything went downhill.

Description: A luminous attraction of ethereal white ambers. Hauntingly beautiful.

Another Alkemia scent is Burning Roses, which is exactly what it says on the tin but with the unfortunate addition of labdanum, which this iteration of hates my skin chemistry with a passion. Oh, what could have been...

🎇

[vinnsley]

This is a part 2 to THIS post right here requested by: @sethmp3! Thank you for all the love on my last norton post :3

(EDIT: So i definitely forgotten what event happens when, so i'm terribly sorry if it's super off from canon, but if it is, ig this can count as an AU then or smth😭)

TW: Mention of blood, pickaxe (?? does this even need a tw), murder, death, gun... thats it i think

[--------------]

At first, no nobody pestered you about you and Norton's relationship, but soon enough, curiosity always kills the cat.

Comments about how close the two of you were, suggestive comments asking if theres something between the two of you... the list could go on forever.

But the 3 didn't have that many chances of actually investigating this matter, due to either you sticking by Norton, or vice versa.

Which you were lowkey thankful, actually. You didn’t like when people tried to get into your personal affairs, much less Norton's. That part always infuriated you, no matter how you look at it.

But when you were alone, walking towards your room which was the neighbouring room of Alice's room, someone grabbed your arm which made you freeze, as you were pulled inside a room, you out of insticnt hit the perpetrator, who turned out to be... Orpheus?

You questioned what was happening as he rubbed his face you just hit. Not so softly, might i add.

Alice, who was sitting on her bed looked over at you, and explained the situation, While Melly was looking over Orpheus, just watching to see if he got seriously injured.

Turns out, there was more to Kreiburg than you thought, which actually, made a lot of sense to you. Ever since he introduced himself, you knew he was probably a douchebag with intentions not so friendly.

And now knowing that it was confirmed that he was a fishy individual, you agreed to help investigate with the three.

Next morning, you woke up, had breakfast, and went to Alice's room.

What you noticed, was that Norton was nowhere to be found. Weird. He always waited for you before and after breakfast after you two reunited.

But you brushed it aside, thinking he just wanted space like he usually did at times, just a break from the world. So you didn’t think of on his door to check on him.

With Alice, the two of you went out of her room, chatting about a few things, before you both noticed Kreiburg... leaving the mansion.

You thought that leaving the mansion while waiting for the owner was... prohibited. Or something like that.

So what was Your and Alice's bright idea? Of course, go after Kreiburg and find out if he actually is hiding something behind that cold mask.

As the pair slowly stalked followed after the man, they noticed that Kreiburg stopped. The two of you quickly hid behind a tall bush, before glancing at eachother with unease as Kreiburg said that he knew someone was there, and he advises them to come out this instant.

His steps could be heard against the grass, drying leaves crunching against his boots that made a shiver run up both if your spines. It was either you two give yourselves up now... or you might never see the light of day again.

Before you could sacrifice yourself, Orpheus suddenly appeared, holding you back as he put a finger to his lips, shushing the both of you as he revealed himself.

Kreiburg seemed distracted enough. Having a chat Orpheus, telling him about some of his life, how this... horse racing place or whatever it was called was connected to his family — his past.

And the mention of a box. A box that was definitely hidden somewhere around these horse racing grounds, as Kreiburg said.

Alice glanced over at you, and nodded to the side as the pair of men went the other way, trying to look for this box that Kreiburg mentioned.

You nodded in response, as the two of you bolt to the other side, going to the three hills that seemed a bit awfully suspicious.

As Alice began digging up one of the hills, you watched as she worked the dirt with her hands, before she felt something hard against her palm.

Alice quickly started digging further, before she reached inside the small hole, and grabbed... a box. This was probably the box Kreiburg mentioned.

Before the two of you could open it though, you heard steps coming your way aswell as small talk you couldn't decipher.

The two of you quickly hid behind one of the hills and waited the outcome of what might happen.

As the men arrived, Kreiburg commented about how somebody was faster than them. Or should he say... somebodies were faster than him.

That's how every one of you knew you were busted. Accepting your fate, the two of you slowly revealed themselves, Alice holding the box.

After a bit of ranting from Kreiburg to which you in all honesty, did not focus in at all, he opened his cane to reveal... a gun.

You and Alice's eyes widened, aswell as Orpheus'.

Kreiburg instructed Alice to put the box infront of her, three steps onward.

Hesitantly, she did. She put down the box before stepping back beside you. Kreiburg immedieatly took that opprotunity to grab the box as fast as he could, but not before he threatend the three of you.

If any of you three decided to turn around before the gun shot, it would be the last thing you'd hear. Creepy, you admit it.

Neither of you three turn around. Waiting for the gunshot as you close your eyes shut. Counting mentally to yourself before you hear the loud gunshot go off.

As the three of you quickly turn around... you realized, Kreiburg ran away. Escaped.

Fuck! But no atleast you three knew he was as fishy as he looked since the start.

The three of you try to get out, but you see that the entrance gates... are locked? What?

They weren't locked when you three entered. This was weird. Probably Kreiburg trying to stall you.

Orpheus found a generator and said he's gonna try to decode it, while Alice and you find nearby ciphers to decode. Since somehow... Orpheus knew a lot about these.

When you asked him how he knows, he just replied with 'I am a writer, i do research of things i write.' Damn man.

You part ways, now jogging alone trough this nightmare maze-like place as you finally find a cipher, starting to decode it, which... somehow you actually knew how to do, even if you had 0 idea what this thing even did.

But as you decoded, your heart started thumping louder and louder inside your chest. Like a warning. You looked around, but saw nothing so you shrugged it off. Maybe it was the caffein and the nights you spent awake getting to you.

But the thumping didn't go away. It onky intensified, aswell as your gut began to churn. A cold shiver running down your spine as you felt like you were being watched. Stalked.

You started to turn left and right more frequently now, it was like something was nearby. Lurking. Maybe waiting. But you didn’t want to guess, as you suddenly made a dash for it.

And you were correct.

Loud thumping behind you could be heard. Someone or... something was chasing after you from behind. Their feet making louder noise than a regular humans would.

You took a sharp turn, and were met with a dead end. You pant, exhausted already from sprinting so much. As you tried to go forward the same path you went on, you felt a sudden pain in your back, letting out a shout as you suddenly got a speed boost, running to... whatever, at this point.

Your lungs felt like they could give out at any moment, you were holding onto your side in pain, you could also feel the bloody flesh of your back against the suddenly cool air of the race place.

You got more unnerved from the blood that you felt trickling down your back and stained your jacket you wore today. Aswell as your hands as you tried to wipe it away, trying to atleast get rid of the uncomfortable feeling if you were already running out of breath, quite literally.

Your body felt weak. It became more heavy then you felt it was before, your feet thumping harshly against the leaves, branches and many other things you stepped on while... running from god knows what.

As you reached a small barricade, you decided jumping over it would be a good way to give you some loop hole against your hunter—

Another sharp pain, but this time to your left side as you collapsed on the floor, writhing in pain as blood began to pool underneath your body from your open wounds.

You whined and whimpered, trying to crawl away before giving up. You couldn't do anything, your body was giving up on you. Your lungs were burning, the air was much, much more cooler than when you arrived.

You turned over on your back, to atleast see who or what was hunting you down like a bloodthirsty animal desperate for prey.

Your eyes widen. This... wasn't a person at all! It seemed like it's... body was...made out of stone? Or was it coal? You couldn't tell from your blurry vision. You could make out the big shadow of a pickaxe... If it even was a pickaxe in the first place.

But upon looking at it's face... it's face seemed very familiar. You just... Couldn't put your finger on it. The black hair, the scar over one if it's eye... the helmet? It all seemed so familiar yet you couldn't pin point why it so familiar.

But before you could think more about it, you saw the.. monster-human hybrid grab it's pickaxe harder, lifting it up over it's shoulder, getting ready to swing at you.

Before it smashed your head into a million different pieces, you whispered out your last words.

'I love you, Norton.'

[waywardstation]

Out There Somewhere

Phione Akari AU

Akari is frustrated that she can't seem to communicate with Ingo, no matter how hard she tries.

I wrote this just to try and figure out Akari's frustration around communication barriers, and Ingo just not having important context in order to help figure it out (and being a little frustrated as well), but being able to sympathize enough to still be comforting through what little is actually understood.

OR read here on AO3!

AND check out the Phione Akari AU masterpost!

Enjoy!

————

Ingo set the bucket down on the ground, the water sloshing inside as he moved to set it under the nearby tree. But instead of sitting down against the trunk, he simply squinted against the sliver of sun peeking over the coastlands’ horizon and sighed, walking around it.

At the sound of shoes crunching against dirt, his portable, watery companion housed within said bucket peeked out over the rim to see where he was going.

Ah. Just as suspected, he was stretching again. Leaning against the tree with one arm, he was doing his best to relieve the sore spine that was clearly bothering him. A muffled yet audible crack freed a groan from the warden’s mouth as he pressed the heel of his palm into his lower side and twisted. 

“ Phi,” She flopped halfway over the side to continue watching him; it wouldn’t be bothering him so badly if he took more breaks from all the hiking he’d done today. Or the day before. Or the day before that. 

Ingo’s gaze settled on her as he continued to stretch, but otherwise he said nothing; comparatively, he had not been very responsive to her today. 

To his credit, she had not been very responsive with him lately either though, now frequently reserving any sounds she made and no longer using them conversationally. Ingo never correctly understood them anyways. 

Uncoiling the tight pain in his back as best as he believed he could, Ingo leaned down to pick the bucket back up and head into a patch of tall grass, holding it close to him. 

“Phi,” She squeaked quietly as the water sloshed with the jostling. Looking up, she met eyes with Ingo, who was already looking down at her.

She may have appeared more dejected than she assumed; his gaze wasn’t quite one of annoyance, but it just seemed… unappreciated. Blank? Perhaps jaded. “No need to worry, Passenger. I am still checking trees for any stalking murkrow before I set you down.”

Akari continued to slosh around quietly in time with Ingo’s steps as he resigned back to silence. A look up through the bucket’s top to the darkened purple sky above, and she was able to make out the weak speckles of stars, still somewhat hiding until the sun’s glow retracted its reach entirely. It would be a clear night – at least the coastlands were merciful enough not to pelt them with bad weather two nights in a row.

The sounds of shoes on grass gave way to smoothed dirt, and the top of a tent could be seen out of the bucket’s top. They must have reached one of the base camps.

At least Ingo would allow himself cover and a bed tonight, but she attributed that to his aching back now demanding it too loudly to ignore any longer.

Once again, Akari not-so-gently sloshed with the bucket’s contents as Ingo wearily set it down on top of the camp’s storage chest. She jumped up to grasp onto the edge and peek over the bucket’s side as he passed by.

The camp’s fire pit was unlit, and it seemed it would stay that way. Ingo went about in the darkness, pouring water into one of the camp’s bowls and washing his face with it. His hands lingered over his eyes with each splash, as if trying to massage the exhaustion out. Then he ventured out into the ring of darkness, dumping the water out onto the grass. Setting the bowl back, he gave the cold fire pit a passing glance before returning to the bucket. 

No proper dinner to be cooked, no flames to heat up the water in her bucket the way she liked at night, no heat to warm himself up, and no light to even see where he was going. 

Again.

“Here,” Akari glanced up as Ingo pulled a cheri berry out of his coat pocket and held it out to her. The thing was almost as big as her head.

“Phi,” Akari shook her head sternly and sank under the water. She’d learned a few days ago he’d keep offering and urging otherwise, and he needed that fruit more than her. She wasn’t hungry anyways. At least she didn’t think so. This strange body was so confusing. Maybe she was filter feeding and didn’t even realize it…

From under the sloshing skylight of water, Akari saw Ingo’s shoulders slump with an exasperated sigh before popping the berry in his mouth and turning away. 

The callous, self-directed frustration gave way to a hint of regret for a moment. She didn’t like seeing him like that. And she definitely didn’t like that she was contributing to it. But she was so nauseatingly, disgustingly sick of trying to communicate at this point when it never got anywhere.

The bucket sloshed around once again as Ingo picked it up and pulled back the canvas flap to carry it into the deeper darkness of the tent with him.

Setting the bucket in the corner and letting himself fall back into the tent with a not-so-quiet grunt, Ingo began to shrug off his coat, removing it with relative care. Folding it and setting it aside next to the tent’s provided pillow, Ingo topped it off by placing his hat down on it.

Aching legs pulled in as shaking hands ran through matted hair and tired eyes regarded the bucket in the corner briefly. Moving carefully on his poor back so as not to irritate it further, Ingo curled onto his side, puffing up before letting out one big, final sigh into the dark. 

“Goodnight, Passenger.” 

Fabric sheets ruffled briefly in the darkness as he made himself more comfortable, but then he was still, and the subtle night ambience replaced it. 

From the side of the lonely bucket, which Ingo had set down as far away from him as she felt he could, Akari regarded him with something not unlike pity before slipping back under the water. She sank to the bottom of the bucket, watching the bubbles that clung to her gradually let go and wander towards the surface.

Ingo was going to go to sleep upset tonight. And she was going to as well.

Why had things come to this?

She didn’t even know what had happened. The only things her memory had retained was uncovering what she assumed to be Manaphy within the dark, damp depths of a half-flooded cavern, then she had found herself adrift near the coastlands’ shore, like this.  

What had happened to her body? Her Pokémon? Her everything? If Manaphy had changed her, would she ever be able to revert her back to her human self? What if she couldn’t even find Manaphy again?

From the start, it had always been strange and uncomfortable and scary being like this. But whenever she stopped to really think about it and mull things over, she hated it. 

She hated being so small and fragile. She couldn’t walk, only crawl with flat, fingerless flippers that couldn’t grasp anything without significant focus. Her voice had left her and functional commutation of any kind was largely stripped with both people and Pokémon. No one recognized her. She didn’t understand anything about this body that seemed to be as structurally sound as a water balloon. And she couldn’t even protect herself, unable to figure out how to utilize any Pokémon moves. 

So many horrible, easy ways this could end terribly. What if she could never find Manaphy? Or what if Manaphy couldn’t change her back? What if she was stuck like this, forever isolated from her friends and family and pathetically clinging to someone who thought she was dead, and only kept her around out of pity and misunderstanding?

The gripping loneliness of the bucket shoved aside into the back corner clamped down much deeper without warning. She was so far away from Ingo. Why had the bucket been crammed so far away? Suddenly, Akari felt like she couldn’t get any air. She needed out of this bucket.

No, she couldn’t take this isolation. She couldn’t move this bucket, but Ingo could. Just a little closer to him. That’s all she wanted.

She hated the idea of trying any more right now, but she’d try just one more time to communicate with him.

–––––

…Sleep was not coming easily to Ingo, but he was still trying his best. He’d need to get up early tomorrow, after all. 

Lying on his side, a sound blipped in the background of hazy exhaustion that was already beginning to shut down his senses. Weary eyes opened halfway before his mind processed that the sound was a splash from back in the corner of the tent. 

A delay to process, and Ingo jolted out of the hazy murk into sitting upright — how long had he been drifting? Thirty seconds? Ten minutes? Half an hour? Something wild had surely stuck its head in through the tent flap for a drink from the bucket and had snatched Passenger — but a familiar squeak and a cold sensation near his foot alerted him that they were still here. 

A glance down in the dark, and Ingo could make out that the small Pokémon was grasping onto the end of his pant leg, sprawled across his ankle as if bracing for more sudden movements.

“Oh- oh Passenger,” Ingo smoothed down and reached for her, letting her flop onto his outstretched hand. “I apologize, I thought that something had… never mind, is something wrong?”

No squeaks. Just cold, wet flippers wrapped around his thumb for support as she slouched in his hand.

“Did you want that cheri berry after all? I’m sorry, I don’t… have it anymore.” An awkward guess as to what she wanted after a stretch of silence. Just another misunderstanding. Akari shook her head no, and pointed to the bucket.

Please bring it a little closer.

“Your bucket has sufficient water? I checked.” 

Another incorrect guess, another head shake.

“Did you, perhaps… want to stay in here again tonight?” Ingo plucked his cap up and held it up for her. “You can if you’d like.”

Not quite. Akari shook her head no and pointed at him with a flipper. “Phi,”

“Me?” Ingo pointed at his chest.

“Phi!” A head shake yes, another annoyingly repetitive motion of pointing a flipper at him, then back at the bucket.

“You want me… to..?” Ingo’s sentence died off. He didn’t understand, and was starting to sound like he was losing his grip on the agency of the situation.

“Phi phi!” Another desperate, pointed jab at the bucket, then back at him. A moving motion with her useless, unhelpful, and entirely unindicative flippers.

Please just bring it closer to you. That’s all I want.

A simple request that would have normally taken not longer than eight words and three seconds between them. Can you please move the bucket over here? Actually no, a request that wouldn’t have even needed to exist, because Akari would have simply picked up the bucket herself if she could have.

Regardless, it was all unintelligible, tangled static now. A basic request, now an impossible cipher.

“Oh, I forgot, didn’t I? I apologize.”

Akari looked up at Ingo, hopeful as he got up on a knee, carefully still cupping her in his hands and moving back towards the bucket. Did he finally get it?

“I know I forgot to heat the water the way you like at night. I just… I do not have the steam to start and manage a fire, simply to warm up some water tonight. Please understand.”

Ingo yawned as he placed her back into the bucket. He looked so exhausted. His hands came out dripping, leaving a tiny, insignificant, heartbroken Akari alone to drift in the container once again.

Another attempt to communicate had fizzled out tremendously. She wanted to cry.

A part of her had not wanted to try her hardest to communicate with Ingo. Because if she tried her hardest and it still wasn’t enough, all that would do is prove the terrifying hypothetical that there was no hope of ever replicating any connection or relationship the way it used to be again.

Well, it appeared that had been proven.

“I apologize, but please, endure it until morning.” Ingo covered his mouth as he yawned again. Returning back to the tent’s bed, he then slumped back down and began making himself comfortable on his side again. “I promise when I wake up tomorrow I will do so, but for now, I need sleep. Please.”

Closing his eyes, it only took a few moments before he once again heard a splash, and subsequent wet movements drawing near to his side, which culminated in a damp flipper bapping his hand.

“Passenger.” Ingo rolled onto his back. He was actively moving away from her now. “Not tonight. Please.”

“Phi!” Akari wailed. She didn’t even care about the bucket anymore. She’d rather just stay next to him on his pillow. She didn’t care if she woke up all dried out. It was better than being alone with her thoughts in that confined container, pushed aside in the dark corner.

“It’s on tomorrow’s schedule.”

And with that, Ingo turned onto his other side, his back to her. He was done with this.

He’d never understand. 

Blurry eyes stared back at the new, tall barrier that was Ingo’s back. Akari sat slumped amongst the sheets in grief before dragging herself onto the pillow and over to Ingo. She leaned against him, inconspicuously blinking back a couple sad, frustrated, tired tears.

Nothing worked when she tried to get through to him. She understood him and everyone else as clearly as before, but could no longer speak human dialect with these limited, foreign vocal cords (if that’s what she even had anymore). And understanding or communicating with other Pokémon was useless when the knowledge of the language obviously didn’t come with the body.

Over these last six days, all her efforts had done was convince Ingo that she was a clingy wild Pokémon that couldn’t stand to be separated from him, but was also perpetually upset at him. And she could see with time it had made him start to close himself off to her.

Was she frustrated? With the situation, absolutely. Upset? Of course. But at Ingo? No. 

It was just hard to do anything when one was stripped of their voice, their legs, their hands, most of their structural systems, and over ninety percent of their body mass. And as upset as she was that it seemed Ingo would never understand, she couldn’t expect him to independently entertain the thought that she was this little phione. People just did not turn into Pokémon. That did not happen. 

…Well, except for in this one case maybe. But it didn’t happen enough for people to just realistically wonder if someone turned into a Pokémon when they went missing. That was so silly.

It just did not happen.

So of course Ingo would never realize, unless she somehow found a method to express it to him in a way he could understand.

But for now, it seemed that all that had done was make him annoyed with her.

A frustrated tear finally slipped out, and Akari’s flipper collected it as she wiped it away. With a whimper, another tear followed. She sniffed.

The darkness let her cry for only a few moments before her support shifted under her. Akari did her best to stop the tears and looked up to see Ingo glancing back over his shoulder at her.

Just one grey eye, loose and clouded with exhaustion, but now observing her with the novel extent of commiseration.

“Oh,” Ingo breathed. He sounded hesitant now. “Oh- dear.” 

He shifted again, now turning on his side to face towards Akari, but she simply curled forward into her flippers — it only made her feel scrutinized right now.

“…Passenger, it was not about warming the water, was it?”

Maybe it was the careful tone that had replaced all his previous, built-up annoyance, or his concerned look. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was trying to listen to her and understand again. Whatever it was, that sentence opened everything up. Akari sobbed and flopped forward into his front, soaking all over the fabric of his tunic.

“I’m- I apologize,” One of Ingo’s hands cupped around near her, but he did not touch her, perhaps careful to still give her space. “It was… not my explicit intent to make you upset.” He didn’t even sound like he believed himself when he said it. “I believe I’ve overlooked something, haven’t I?”

He had, in a massive way, yes. But if Akari couldn’t get him to understand when she simply wanted a bucket moved, how could she possibly explain her frustrations to him? So she shook her head no despite her feelings, but the continued tears and the clinging contradicted her.

Things went on like that for a while. Ingo did not know what was wrong, and Akari didn’t even attempt to tell him as she was tired of trying. So she was grateful he didn’t push and just let her cry. But eventually her shelter, Ingo’s tear-stained tunic, pulled away as the warden shifted back over onto his back. He brought her with him, letting her rest in his hands as an offer of continued consolation and comfort.

“...I remember what the professor said in his office the other day about, you know… you.” Ingo spoke quietly up at the tent’s ceiling. “About how his many coastal observations suggested you are a very, ah, group oriented species. How you consist of large families that drift with each other from one destination to the next. Always together.”

Akari remembered Laventon saying that as well. Much more verbose and detailed of course, but that summed it up well. She made a quiet sound of acknowledgement and shuffled in his fingers to curl up near his shoulder, and Ingo moved his now-empty hands to clasp them loosely over his belly instead.

“I understand from what the professor surmised about what happened to you, that you miss your group very much.” Ingo continued. “And separation is all the more difficult when one feels lost.”

That came from a very personal place. He did not bring light to it (and why would he with what he assumed to be a Pokémon who still did not know him well?), but Akari knew he was pulling from the clingy, frantic behavior she found herself apt to express whenever separation from him seemed imminent. Had he felt like that when he first fell to Hisui?

“And you’ve felt very lost today haven’t you, Passenger?”

Tears welled up again as Akari nodded. Again, not in the way Ingo had meant, but it still hit the target right in the center. “Phi.”

“I understand the feeling.” Ingo lingered on the sentence for a moment. “Which is why I want to apologize if I have seemed quite distant or distracted today, or yesterday, and contributed to that. I did not intend to neglect you, and lead you to feel even more alone or lost than you already do. I truly did not mean for that. I am just-” 

Hands still clasped, Ingo began tapping his thumbs together.

“I am sure you are well aware that I am looking for a lost friend of mine as well. I am worried about her too.”

Akari stayed quiet, waiting to see if he’d say anything more. Ingo had rarely ever brought her up with, well, herself , throughout this entire situation, and why would he? Why would he share his stressors with what he probably currently believed to be the equivalent of a frustrated blue pop pod? 

But he was talking about her now. Maybe he was using her relative silence as a catalyst for a self-sorting introspection, because the conversation was certainly going one way with no indication that responses were expected. 

But Akari did not mind.

“She is formidable against many, many challenges, but the more time goes by with her absence, the more I fear that something has happened that cannot be taken back.” Ingo’s words slowed down now, carefully thought over and treading with trepidation. “I wonder if she is alright or not. And I also wonder if she is still here. Either in the ah, expected sense of the word, or if… perhaps she received a ticket back home, and I was not there to join her, or bid her goodbye when her line departed.”

Now that was new information to Akari. She had no idea that all of this time, Ingo had been considering the horrific possibility that she had perhaps left Hisui to go back to her own time. He had never once verbalized anything like that over this entire time.

She would never. Never. She’d never even let him say goodbye in a scenario like that, because she would never ever leave without him if she got a chance like that. She’d grab his arm and pull him along with her and fight anything that would have tried to stop her from doing it. And if she would ever be taken suddenly without a choice, she’d fight her way back to grab Ingo and make sure he’d be included. Somehow, she’d find a way.

The thought that he was worrying over something like that, and had been doing so for so long broke her heart. 

“But, I also believe that unfortunately I’ve allowed these concerns to outgrow me and derail my priorities. I’ve been trying very hard to find her again, just as I’m sure your group is trying to find you. Though while searching for her, I’m afraid I’ve left you in the dark, and I apologize for that. I am conducting you, after all; I should not be leaving passengers unattended when they require assistance.”

Ingo stopped tapping his thumbs together. Akari rose and fell with Ingo’s chest as he took a deep, distressed breath and let the anxiety out through his nose.

“Tomorrow will not be like today. In the morning, I plan to traverse the cliff sides near the water. I’ll be searching for my own, but I’d like you to know I will be just as diligent with keeping an eye out for any members of your group who may be looking for you along the surf.”

“Phi,” Akari muttered, hoping he took that as a ‘thank you’, or a ‘I’m sorry too’, or even just a simple acknowledgement of the vulnerable moment. She appreciated the sentiment, despite his offer basically being useless to her.

“You know, I believe she would take a liking to you if you were to meet her. I’d like you to, if possible. I also think you’d probably get along with her much better than you do with me.” Ingo continued after another long stretch of silence. He seemed to be trying to relax himself now; fabric shifted in the dark hopefully for the last time. “In some ways, you remind me of her very much.”

Two days ago, or maybe even yesterday, she would have spit a stream of water at him, or smacked him with her useless flipper for saying something that would be so retrospectively obvious. 

But he was so exhausted. And so was she. And it, along with any other form of indication she had tried, never got the intended message across. It would have only ruined the nice moment they had managed to dredge up in all of this stress.

So instead, Akari simply flopped over and settled herself into Ingo’s shoulder, clasping onto it securely. It would be a rather loud place when he would inevitably start snoring, but the hood of his tunic was warm, and the proximity was comforting at the moment – much better than all the isolating nights she had spent in that dark bucket.

It must have surprised Ingo, as fabric rustled once again as he turned to look at her as best he could.

“You are stationing yourself there? I am afraid that you will be dried out by sunrise if you stay there.” He warned. “What about your bucket?”

“Phi,” Akari shook her head no, wiggling further into his hood to emphasize she was staying there. She didn’t care. The coastlands were cool enough at night to keep it from becoming too unbearable anyways.

“Alright.” Ingo closed his eyes, and let his muscles finally slack as he settled into the bed. “Goodnight, Passenger. Thank you for listening.”

[maddymoreau]

@bunny-kisser In my Pokemon Mystery Dungeon AU Grant is a Shiny Fearow and my Self Insert is a Shiny Wurmple.

Rambling:

For context Grant's backstory is that he used to be in the Army until his Lieutenant made a bad call, resulting in all of Grant's Squad/Friends getting killed. The only survivors were Grant and his Lieutenant who he drifted apart from after the Army. When Grant left he moved into his parent's old log cabin. Later he sees the player in town, starts stalking them and eventually kidnaps them.

Instead of being in the military in the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon AU Grant would've been part of a Rescue Team. Specifically a Hyper Rank on the cusp of becoming a Master Rank.

Things play out the same, Grant's Leader makes a bad call and all their Team/Friends getting killed in a dungeon. Grant stops being an Explorer, returns to where he grew up and notices a weak Shiny Wurmple in town.

The storyline plays out basically identical to my regular self ship lore. Except in the game Grant calls the player on the phone under the guise that he received a fake number. When in reality he's outside their window and gauging their reactions.

In the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon AU at night Grant would approach my Self Insert outside her home. His body would be completely hidden in tall grass, but he'd use his long neck to make his head hang low to appear smaller/at her eye level. She can't see what he looks like, but knows someone is there. Grant would talk to her and lie saying he was supposed to meet someone here.

The dialogue would be almost identical to what happens in the game. Except it says address instead of fake number:

Grant: “I just had to ask. Why would someone who was hitting it off with someone else turn around and give them a fake address afterwards?”

Player: “Lots of reasons. Maybe they didn’t know how to let you down? Didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Maybe they were afraid.”

Grant: “Are you afraid?”

During the kidnapping one of Fearow's Pokedex Entries would come into play: "It cleverly uses its thin, long beak to pluck and eat small insects that hide under the ground."

Funny enough a lot of Wurmple's Pokedex entries mention being preyed upon by bird Pokemon: "Often targeted by bird Pokémon, it desperately resists by releasing poison from its tail spikes."

My Self Insert would try to fight, fail and get kidnapped. Not long after being taken to Grant's home she'd evolve into a Silcoon. Her body reacts to this stressful situation by evolving as way to defend/protect herself. Since it gives her this silk barrier and increases her defense while still allowing her to move.

Off topic but I LOVE how the anime shows Cascoon move. I imagine Silcoon moves the same way:

Grant's motivation in the AU is the same, to have complete control over her to do whatever he wants.

To live the domestic fantasy he's imagined with her.

After almost a year has passed since being kidnapped my Self Insert stops trying to escape and evolves into a Beautifly. Even though she now has wings that would help her, she doesn’t try escaping. Also a fun little detail is that she goes from being just a Bug type Pokemon to a Bug/Flying type once she accepts her fate. She gains the Flying type that Grant has.

Visual Details:

Why I picked Fearow and Beautifly:

I wanted my Self Insert to be a Bug type. Very weak, with her main focus on surviving, never imagining herself being capable of becoming an Explorer. Behind on evolution compared to where she'd like to be, in this very awkward stage figuring out what she wants to do and how to connect with other Pokemon.

Compared to Grant who is at his final stage of evolution. Grant has lived a life with past relationships, friends, a successful career and knows exactly what he wants.

I really liked the contrast between the two, especially Grant being stronger. Along with the dynamic between a Bird and Bug type Pokemon since Grant enjoys having power over her.

I actually decided Grant as a Fearow first. From similarities in vibe/appearance and after reading Fearow's Pokedex entries.

Once I decided on Grant as a Fearow and thought of the Bird Bug type dynamic. I searched for a Bug type Pokemon I thought would suit my Self Insert.

Which Beautifly does especially this entry that make me laugh: "A colorful and incredibly beautiful but also greedy Pokémon. In an effort to keep its favorite food all to itself, it will chase away Combee as they try to gather nectar."

The tall grass idea came from Wurmple’s Pokedex: "It lives amidst tall grass and in forests. When attacked, it resists by pointing its venomous spikes at the foe."

Also they were slightly inspired by Team Tasty:

[feralkwe]

He wasn’t difficult to find. Taller than she and in full wide plate, a shock of bright white hair and skin against the gloomy sky. Not even the tall grasses could hide him as he crouched in his search. It wasn’t until she was upon him that she realized he was not actually looking for pomwort. Instead, he stared into the distance, his face crumpled in anger and bright eyes ablaze with it.

“Strength is pain. Strength is suffering. Strength is sacrifice…” He swiped a gauntleted hand through the grass and yelled out. “Gah. Sod this! This is pointless.”

She laid a hand on his shoulder. Though it was unlikely he felt it through his plate, Kit knew he felt it through the bond connecting them. The magic that wove them together through their study of dark arts. She also knew he was still angry with her, even if he did not pull away.

“She did not mean it,” Kit started, immediately knowing it for an empty platitude. She took a cleansing breath and tried again. “She did not mean to be cruel.”

“It does not matter.”

“It does.”

He shook his head. “All that matters is that she lives. If it should cost me my life, every last breath, it will be worth it.”

Even should it cost you all that is dear to you. Even should it cost you your life… You bear the burden and fight on, kicking and screaming until your last breath is spent.

Kit exhaled as quietly as she was able, her hand shaking as she steadied herself.

“You dying is not going to save her.” She sidled closer, leaning her hip against his shoulder. Still he sat rigid. Unmoving. “When this is all over, and she’s safe, she will need somewhere to land from it all. Someone to hold her up.”

He dropped his head, his eyes clenching. “Look at me, Kit. Do I look like I can hold anyone up? She is not wrong. Fray said similar things.” He shook his head as if the grass had asked him an outrageous question. “She will be safe. I will see it done. That is all which matters.”

Kit tilted her head. Did he really not see it? “We will see it done,” she reminded him. She touched his chin, prodding him to look up toward her, and when he refused, she took a knee beside him. “You are not alone. You’ve held me up; let me return the favor.”

He did meet her eyes then, his frown no longer one of anger, but something else that struck her heart. “You will not be here forever,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation. Nor a lamentation. Merely a statement of fact tinged with, perhaps, sadness. “Your friends will need you back, Warrior of Light.”

She closed her eyes and tipped her face downward. “Please do not call me that. Please,” she repeated. “Not you.” Not after all he had done to undo the ways that title hindered her ability to see herself clearly. “I cannot bear it from you.”

“And I cannot bear you making promises you cannot keep.”

“Sid,” she said, flinching. “We said—”

“I know what we said, and I stand by it.” He sighed and tipped her face up again with a single finger and thumb grasping her chin. “Only what we need it to be. Nothing more. I cannot let myself need you in ways which do not align with reality.”

“I said I am with you.”

“For now. For this.” He gestured around them. “You’re picking pomwort with me. You’ll fight beside me in this trial with Rielle’s mother. And when the world needs its hero again—because it will—then what will you choose?”

“Stop.”

“It will not be me, and it will not be Rielle.” His grip on her chin firmed. “Which is why I have to protect her now. ‘Tis not enough for me to win this fight for her. I must win every fight which follows, and that means it must end with this one. They must all be cut down, every one who comes for us.” He spied a clump of the plant they sought, released her chin, and ripped it from the ground. “We must find the flame in the abyss. ‘Tis the only way I will be able to protect her when you are gone.” He glared at the pomwort as if it were the root of all his problems. “And the only way I will know you are safe once you are.”

She frowned. “And what of you? What happens when you shove me off to save the world and Rielle is not enough to patch you back together again?”

“It will not be your concern.”

“Do you think I will just go and never look back?” Grief over something which had not yet come to pass clutched her heart and would not let go. “I am a dark knight, and I still have much to learn. Please don’t leave me alone in the dark. I need you.” She reached for his hand.

“No, Kit, you don’t.” He puffed air through his nose, incredulous, and pulled out of her reach. “You have learned faster than I ever could have expected. As if you were already touched by darkness. You are a natural.” He pushed up from the ground and began walking away from her. “You do not need someone like me. ‘Tis always been I who needed you, and I cannot allow that any longer.”

“Sidurgu.”

“We should split up,” he said, firmly. A mentor, and not a friend. Not a lover. “It will go faster that way, and then we can put this nonsense behind us.” He kicked at the grass as he walked, grumbling as he did. “I will meet you back with Moggie. And once we find the flame in the abyss, I think it best if we go our separate ways.”

She did not argue, not seeing the point. His mind was made up, and there was little point in arguing with him. In many ways he was right. Her break from the Scions would not last indefinitely. They knew where she was, clearly, and a day would come when they would once again be required to aim her at their problems. When that day came, she would not be able to turn away. She wanted to believe she would never turn her back on Sidurgu, not after everything. But he was also right that it was unfair of her to make promises she, being the Warrior of Light, could not keep.

She watched his back as he walked away, finally accepting that one day she would watch him go for the last time, possibly to his death, or maybe her to her own. Being Hydaelyn’s chosen was a garotte, and she would never escape it. It had cost her Elidibus. It would cost her this, too. No matter what she did, how she loved, what she sacrificed, how she fought, she would always stand apart from anyone and anything she would ever want for herself.

Living Dead Girl on AO3

[notdogice]

Well, it's been about a year since I started showing off my Pony Town cos' so I guess I should show off some more. This time we're delving into my Dragon Ball cos'! There aren't too many of them, but they have a few neat little techniques I used to create them.

First off we have Goku! He was one of the first few DB cos' I did and he has changed quite a bit from when I first made him. I had a hard time figuring out how to do his hair, but the latest update to the selection of manes Pony Town provides helped immensely. Besides the hair, I enjoyed making his shoes. The rest was pretty easy to figure out.

Of course I had to make a super saiyan Goku! ... This is the only transformation I have for him though. Funnily enough, the hair was much easier to do, and it also uses the hat slot to add onto the hair trick. I did struggle a bit with coloring the hair at first, but making the outline lighter than the hair does a great job at making it glow.

Next we have Yamcha! He was rather straightforward to make, and the most notable things to point out are his clothes and, again, shoes. It's mostly just using the outlines to add more detail, but I like how easy it was to do it.

Puar!!!!! Yeah they revamped the customizable plushies that you can equip and Puar was an obvious choice to do as my first plushie cos.

Launch, but I was inspired to make her whilst watching one of the Harmony Gold movie dubs that had popped up on youtube a while back. You'd think she'd be an easy one to do, but I had a hard time deciding which mane to use and uh those pants were absolutely hard to work with. Other than that, it was an easy enough one to do.

I had a fun time making Korin, and this is one of the very few characters that I've had to use the beard options for. I had used one of the skirt options to make him more round as well. Also, you may have noticed that I've made the outlines a gradient. I've pretty much done this for all of my DB cos', but it's a much more notable feature for Korin compared to the others.

I love Raditz, but hot damn he doesn't translate well into Pony Town. Like the legs and tail are easy enough, but his armor and hair were hell. It's mostly the hair, but I had to use a hat, ear ring, and both front and side horn options to make it work. The armor was easier, but it was a puzzle for sure.

Vegeta was the first DB cos I made. He was easy. Uh, I actually used one of the face patterns to extend his widow's peak, and I also used the grass color to hide one of his hair spikes. There's a reason for that.

Yup. I don't have much to add. He has a horn and antlers now.

One of my favourite cos' I've done, and it's Frieza of all people. His head was a joy to figure out. I used the mask option for the lower half of his face so that I could have his facial markings be present, and I used one of the beards to make that white outline. For his head, I used a top hat to create the outline, and there's a horn I used to add to the shading of his forehead. I'm very proud of how he turned out.

The Namekian frog is my favourite DB character, so I, of course, made a cos of the frog. Okay so I once saw a person who made a frog using a method like the one that I used that I have never seen anyone do ever before or since when I saw them. Like I tried looking up a tutorial for this type of frog head and I couldn't find it, so I feel like it was something that that person had figured out for themselves. Like I've seen people do the headphone eyes thing, but never in combination with the mask for a frog. Other than that, a very easy cos to make.

It's bingus time. Beerus' ears are my favourite thing about this cos. It combines the tall side horns and the big pointed ears to make his iconic big ears. It's difficult to see here, but I had used one of the ponytails to make the ear more round just by a few pixels. For his shawl, I used the cape and the neck tie together to make it.

And that's it for the Dragon Ball Pony Town cos' I have. I might make more in the future, but I can't say for sure.

[evolutionsvoid]

The Ammit is a species of reptile that is found upon the arid continent, their range spanning deserts and savannas, with a preference for areas that have water sources nearby. Their main love is rivers, either dwelling in or around them. Though some may find their bodies awkward in appearance, they are actually good both on land and in water. While they do spend a chunk of time hiding in water, they aren't really swimmers. Instead, they actually walk along the bottom of the lake or river, using their legs to push them along or shoot themselves up to the surface for air or prey. On land, their strong legs allow them to move in explosive bursts, suddenly rushing prey and taking them down before they can properly react. Even when not hunting, they can trot along at a decent pace, conserving their energy for when they need to lunge at an opportunity. Their lives both in and out of the water is said to be fitting for a species of their appearance, looking to be a fusion of three different creatures.

They are said to have the pride and speed of a lion, the cunning and patience of a crocodile, and the strength and anger of a hippopotamus. While this description makes them two parts mammal and one part reptile, they are just pure reptile. Their body is covered in a variety of scales and colors, which can give the impression of fur sometimes at a distance. The mane they have is not hair, but long tendril-like scales that are more soft and floppy compared to the reptile scales most people are used to. Even the "spots" on them are nothing more than scutes. Their odd appearance have made people ask why they have such distinct sections to their body, looking like three animals stitched together. Currently, no solid answer has been given. Some believe that these different colors break up their silhouette when hiding and hunting. Others think it is meant to confuse prey, making them think they are a species they are not, and thus making them unprepared for the attack. Not the most flawless arguments, but that is what we got so far. 

When it comes to diet, meat is what's on their menu. Ammit are carnivores, typically targeting large prey, like ungulates. Their hunting strategy varies when on land or water, but the basics are the same. They prefer to lie in wait and then burst forth with jaws wide open to seize prey in a crushing bite. On land, they hide within tall grass or brush, then charge in at high speed. Theses hunts last only a few seconds, as the Ammit are not meant for long distance sprinting. The point is to get prey down before they can pick up enough speed and distance to leave the hunter in the dust. They strike with tooth and claw, looking to wound the animal enough that they can't run. In some cases, Ammit have been seen simply ramming right into the fleeing prey, using their stocky bodies like battering rams. Anything to keep them from running away! When hunting in water, they take a page from the crocodile's book. They hide in the water, keeping perfectly still as prey approaches for a drink. When food gets close enough, they kick off with their muscular back legs and launch themselves forth. Jaws latch on and bite down hard, usually enough to end the hunt right there. In cases where prey rears back in time, they still aren't safe, as the Ammit may simply run out of the water to catch its meal. When prey is downed, they use their jaws and claws to tear chunks of flesh off to swallow whole. Their potent stomach acid lets them eat pretty much everything off of prey, thus little is left after they finish dining. 

While they are powerful carnivores, they do appear to be quite social from time to time. An individual Ammit may spend a good chunk of time alone, focused on hunting for prey, but eventually they will meet up with more of their kind. Typically these hangouts will be around or in water, sticking close as a group. They will vocalize, groom and occasionally do some sparring, using this time to relax and develop relationships. It seems that it is during these meet ups where males and females will begin eyeing one another, getting an idea of who they want to hook up with when mating season comes. When the seasons get rough and food gets scarce, these gatherings may result in team ups where the Ammit will work together to bring down hardier prey. They will use a variety of tactics to go after species they don't normally hunt, all in the hopes of scoring a meal in these trying times. Teamwork also occurs when pairs raise their young, as both the father and mother work to keep their offspring fed and safe. For a species with wicked speed and jaws, they can be surprisingly friendly and sociable. For some folk though, I am stating quite the obvious fact!

What I described certainly sounds like a dangerous beast, and I imagine there be quite a few people scared of a sprinting pair of reptilian jaws! However, if you were to talk to the locals, they would have a completely different view! For the people here, the Ammit is a beloved and sacred species, to the point where they have domesticated a breed of them. These Ammit can be pets, guards and hunting aids, working alongside the humans. Within the vast empire of this region, the Ammit is seen as a both a guardian and a judge, as they are believed to be able to sniff out wicked hearts. Those with foul intentions or tainted souls are said to enrage the Ammit who protect sacred temples and holy sites. Some Ammit are used to judge offenders, with criminals standing before one of these beasts and seeing if it chooses to kill them or spare them. What decides their fate is known only to this reptilian judge, with some claiming that it is body language and the stench of fear that can determine if it attacks, while others say it is pure luck. I wouldn't know, as I don't exactly plan on being put before that kind of court! Under the care of loving owners, Ammit can live much longer then their wild counterparts, and thus reach incredibly sizes. Ancient Ammit can live up to a century, and typically these larger specimens are the ones who are used in these judging ceremonies or are given offerings. In their religion, one of these beasts is used to judge the souls of the dead, devouring the hearts of those who are rife with sin. 

It is an incredible thing to see, I must say, witnessing these great beasts working alongside the humans here. Those that have been domesticated are quite friendly, and can definitely show you some affection! I loved meeting them and getting a chance to see this relationship up close! However, I came off quite crazy to people back home when I talked about how incredible it would be to have one as a pet! I guess outsiders don't get it! Though, I must put in a warning, as these domesticated breeds of Ammit can give the wrong impression at times. Their friendly ways and ease around people is wonderful, but it can make one start attributing these characteristics to wild Ammit. People get it into their heads that all these reptiles are happy little buddies, and then get too close to one in the wild and get chomped. Don't make this mistake. No matter how cute or wonderful some creatures look in the wild, do remember that you are in the wild.     

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

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

"Ammit"

Yeah she's still around, I am sure my slew of FOI stuff made some folk worry. Chlora entries do exist, and in the future I will probably do some back and forth more frequently between her stuff and FOI. Here is a personal favorite mythical monster!

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Midsummer Lie’s Dream zine! Oberon just makes me so sad, I want him to find his Titania one day. I’m sure she exists, somewhere, somewhen.

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Laughter filled the open plains.

That in itself wasn’t an unusual sound, especially not for Oberon. In his months in this Lostbelt, laughter was the sound that greeted him the most. That and clamoring cries for him to pay his bills, whether it be in a tall tale, a whimsical ditty, or in actual money. A smile and joke was often all he needed to squeeze his way out of those situations.

No, what was unusual was hearing it on the road. Or even actually being on the road, for that matter. Oberon rarely took his time travelling between cities and even then, he never had a travelling companion. Now, though, he was inundated with them. Leaning against the carriage, he idly scanned the open field in front of him. Gareth and Red Hare chatted eagerly about the best restaurants. Muramasa and Da Vinci teased Artoria. Blanca rested for once, taking a break between the errands he tasked her with. A wind blew through long grasses, rippling through them like the sea. There were no Mors, no other Fae, just several ‘friends’ scattered about as though they were out on a picnic and not fulfilling a prophecy.

Months ago, he couldn’t have imagined this scene at all. His trips had been merely a means to an end. They still were, but now they were filled with diversions and pit stops. Trips that would take an hour at most were now days of winding roads. What a ridiculously ordinary, fluffy trip.

It repulsed him.

“What are you thinking of?” Ritsuka asked, popping out of nowhere. For a human, she was oddly quiet, her footsteps light and breathing shallow. Perhaps it was all of her time spent fighting battle after battle, sneaking from one danger to the next. It was a matter of survival that she could hide her presence, at least long enough until she could summon protection.

Oberon plastered a smile out of habit. He couldn’t let his guard down just yet. “Just how ordinary this is. I didn’t think I’d get to travel around with everyone. It’s a lot more fun than I expected.”

Ritsuka studied him, her eyes sharp, her expression unreadable. There were times when he wondered if she could see right through him, if the betrayals and twists she’d witnessed had given her a sixth sense for it. If maybe the wars she’d fought had aged her well beyond her years. But then, just as quickly, she turned away and leaned against the carriage next to him. “I wonder why you got here so early. Tristan appeared when we did.”

“Me too,” Oberon sang, relaxing slightly. It had all been in his imagination. How could she see through him, when all of the Fae here couldn’t? He raised both his hands as though he were balancing an imaginary scale. “Maybe that’s the difference between a knight and a prince? But that gave me time to set everything up.”

“Thanks for that.” Ritsuka smiled appreciatively. She looked worn, no doubt a little depleted from a recent skirmish. Her energy hadn’t yet recharged from her latest summoning. Pushing back a stray red lock, her expression turned wry. “Though…did you really have to rack up all those bills? You don’t even need to eat.”

“It’s fun! They keep coming up with new creations, how can I say no? And it’s not that much,” Oberon denied half-heartedly. It had been all too easy to swindle others. A little smile, a little song, and they all ate out of his hand. Even animals had a better sense of wariness. “Besides, what’s a little debt between friends?”

“I don’t think that constitutes as a little,” Ritsuka replied dryly. Despite her words, she chuckled, her eyes full of mirth. “I’m amazed they still let you in. I think we could buy a country with how much you owe.”

“It’s not like they can deny my face. And I am a prince, even if only in name.” Oberon chuckled and shrugged, dismissing the problem. If things continued as planned, it wouldn’t be long before the whole point became moot. “It’s fine, we’re saving everyone, right? What’s a little money compared to that?”

Ritsuka flinched. She stared at the ground, biting her lip as she scuffed the dirt. “Saving everyone…”

Was that guilt he detected? Oberon repressed a dark smirk. Just how far should he push that feeling? Just how deep should he twist that knife? It was far too late to feel that now, after pruning five possibilities. Ritsuka couldn’t turn back now, and even if she could, Oberon wouldn’t let her. He’d far prefer to let her feelings fester, to have them deepen and darken until they consumed her. Until her appearance matched her deeds.

Yet, he was Oberon right now, and for all of Oberon’s pranks and roguish behaviour, he was not one to let another wallow in guilt.

“You are saving them,” he reminded her gently, resting a hand on her shoulder. Even for a human, she felt small, frail. “Regardless of how it ends, today’s important, right?”

“That…” Ritsuka covered his hand with hers and squeezed it lightly. It didn’t repulse him as much as it should have. “I know. Thanks.”

“Knowing and feeling something are two different things, right? Knowing the truth doesn’t always make it any easier to believe.” Oberon closed his eyes as a light breeze ran through the field, rustling his robes and ruffling his hair. He hadn’t meant to say that. He shouldn’t have said that.

Titania.

Unbidden, he thought of her once more. What a silly, stupid thought. If only he hadn’t ‘settled’ as Oberon. Naked and fractured, he hadn’t thought of anything more than survival when he’d first surfaced in the forest. And now, he was paying for that weakness with a body that swirled with conflicting wishes and thoughts.

He didn’t need any of this.

He wanted it more than anything. A doomsday device shouldn’t have desire, yet it filled him nonetheless.

How troubling.

“Yeah.” Ritsuka looked at him once more, with those perceptive eyes of hers. For a moment, he thought she’d read his mind.

Before she could say anything, he cut in with a teasing smile. It was far too early for him to lose control like this. “Just look at Artoria.” Oberon gestured at the young woman in front of them, her face bright red from either anger or embarrassment. Or both. It was usually both. Especially when she had to deal with Muramasa, who looked like he was setting up a competition. “She really doesn’t seem like the chosen one, does she? She’s not like the Artoria from our world at all.”

Ritsuka laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. Still…” She pursed her lips as she glanced at their companion, her expression softening. Did she see something of herself in the chosen one? They had both been thrust into a task they hadn’t been ready for, with no way out.

“Still?” Oberon prodded, curious despite himself.

“It’s…uh…it’s corny, but they have the same eyes.” She rubbed her neck sheepishly. An embarrassed flush spread across her nose. “They’re…unwavering. She's not confident, but…it’s like when I talked to Artoria Lily. She’s stronger than she realizes. She just needs a push.”

“Ohhh?” Oberon grinned, steering the conversation back to lighter pastures. It seemed his decision for team building exercises was finally paying off. “Looks like someone has a fan. You should tell her that.”

“That…yeah.” Ritsuka looked even more embarrassed at the thought. “I’ll think about that.” She laughed awkwardly. “It’s like Mash all over again.”

He had seen little of Ritsuka’s preferred Servant. “They’re similar?”

“A bit. I had to praise Mash a lot in the beginning too. She never seemed to believe me or herself.” Ritsuka smiled wistfully as she leaned back, staring up at the sky. “I hope we find her soon.”

“We will.” Oberon tapped Ritsuka’s hand, the master’s seals impossible to miss on her pale skin. “You’re still connected to her, right? And we’ve got everyone searching.”

Softly, she mumbled, “Yeah.”

There was something nostalgic about her expression. Oberon couldn’t quite place where he’d seen it before. It was the most vulnerable he’d seen her.

Ritsuka didn’t look at him as she added, “And you too.”

That caught him off guard. Puzzled, he pointed at himself. “Me?”

Now she turned to him, her gaze thoughtful. “Titania. I’m sure we’ll find her one day.”

Oberon didn’t know what to say to that, whether he should fake a laugh or look appreciative. He should never have let that slip earlier.

Ritsuka didn’t comment on his silence. She clasped her hands in front of her. “There are other servants like that. Nursery Rhyme. Jeanne d’Arc Alter. They didn’t really exist but they also do. It happens sometimes.”

He didn’t need to be a mind reader to guess where this was going. Oberon forced a smile. “If we’re lucky.”

“Well, I think I’ve got that covered.” Ristuka chuckled sardonically. “I mean, all of this is happening, but I made it pretty far. And in one piece. You never know; she might appear one day.”

“I…” It was strange. Ritsuka was consoling him. Oberon had never been consoled before. He had never needed to be consoled either. Even now, he didn’t need to hear those words. Even now, there was something about the whole idea that made his skin crawl.

Yet, hope bloomed within him nonetheless.

It unnerved him. Maybe this was one of her abilities as a Master. Maybe this was the ‘Oberon’ within him. He should have cut this part of himself out long ago.

Ritsuka grasped his hand comfortingly. “You’ll find her. I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah.” He forced himself to stay still, fighting down the urge to recoil. They’d been in this discussion for too long; he needed to change the subject before they delved any deeper. Ritsuka was perceptive in the worst of ways and he didn’t need any more interferences with his plans.

Fortunately, there was an easy target in front of him. Oberon gestured in front of him, at Artoria as she started to swing her wand around like it was a sword. Muramasa drew his sword in response. “Who do you think will win?”

“Is that even a question?” Ristuka laughed before paling. “Wait, do you think he can cut through the Staff of Selection?”

That was a question that had never crossed his mind. Oberon stared blankly at the duel in front of him. “It’s magic.”

“That…hasn’t stopped this before.” Ritsuka jerked away from the carriage and took off like a bullet. “Wait, Artoria!”

Oberon snorted. Somehow, the scene in front of him had become even more ridiculous. Everything to do with Chaldea, with Ritsuka and her entourage, had a way of breaking his expectations in the best ways. Now there was a three-way duel, with Da Vinci and Red Hare laughing as a panicked Gareth tried to pick a side.

How absurd. How annoying. How pointless.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away. The sound of laughter filled the plains once more. For all that Oberon hated people, he didn’t hate the sound of laughter.

I’m sure she exists.

And for all that Oberon hated everything, he didn’t hate Ritsuka.