#Elder Farmer is a Mess

[loxare]

A game I've been playing in early access for the past half year, Immortal Life, came out fully wednesday, and I love it so much and think that everyone should play it. Anyways I wrote a thing

Mu Xia hummed as she carefully placed the plate of dumplings in her basket. They were a new recipe, pork and chive, and she really hoped her shijie liked them.

Carefully balancing her basket on her arm, pushing aside the kitchen curtain with the ease of long practice, she nearly dropped everything when Ji Yaohua’s voice called out, “Mu-shimei! I was just speaking to your mother about importing things for the inn. She told me to ask you about anything you needed for the kitchen.”

Basket balanced once again, Mu Xia smiled. “Oh course, Ji-shijie, thank you. It will be our usual list, but could you see if you can get more of the chives? If these turn out, I think they’ll be a hit with the customers.”

Yaohua leaned in, curious. “What are they? They smell good.”

“Pork and chive dumplings! I have some extra in the back if you want, but these are for Shijie!” In this context, there could only be one Shijie. The farmer of the Misty Valley was the reason she was even a part of Guiyun Sect after all.

Li Mengqing appeared from around the corner, summoned by the call of a new food to try. “I’ll get them! Just on the serving table?” Not waiting for an answer, she slipped into the kitchen.

“What’s the occasion?” Yaohua’s eyes narrowed slightly. “If it’s her birthday you have to tell me. She refuses to say.”

That sounded like Shijie. “No, not at all. I just haven’t seen her in a few days, so I wanted to check on her and make sure she was eating well.”

A strange look crossed Yaohua’s face. It looked pained, but also glum and mischievous for some reason. “I see. I think she’ll enjoy those a lot. Say hi for me.”

“I will!” Ji Yaohua’s strange moods wouldn’t deter Mu Xia. “See you later Ji-shijie, Li-shimei!”

After Mu Xia was gone, Mengqing came out and passed Yaohua a dumpling. “Ji-shijie. If Shijie hasn’t been seen in a few days...”

“Yes.” Yaohua took a bite of the dumpling. It was very good indeed. She’d have to research where to obtain chive seeds. The Misty Valley could support nearly any kind of plant in its soil, so it was just a matter of sourcing. And having Shijie grow them would be much cheaper in the long run than importing chives. As for Mu Xia... “She’d have to find out sometime. Besides, if it’s been a few days, Shijie could probably use the food.”

“Hm. True.” Mengqing ate another dumpling. “Hey, do you think it’s possible to make a red bean dumpling?”

She’d never had a sweet dumpling before. “I’m sure you can convince Mu-shimei to try.”

The walk to the Misty Valley was pleasant. The weather was warm, and a bit breezy. There was rain on the horizon, but it wouldn’t hit until tonight. She spoke briefly to Zhou Qian’er about the day’s catch, and to Chen Yuanzhou about fishing her up a few puffer fish for an upcoming banquet.

The Misty Valley hummed with power as it always did. She could almost see the crops growing as they absorbed the spiritual energy, cycling it and sending it back into the earth, stronger. That was one of the things that had surprised her, after she’d started cultivating. Mu Xia had been to the Misty Valley before, usually on her way to the Sunset Forest to pick scarlet sage, but never before had she been able to see the energy she had always felt in the place. It had always felt alive to her, vibrant in ways that she hadn’t been able to comprehend. It was no wonder that Shijie was so strong, if this was where she lived, worked, cultivated.

Speaking of. “Shijie? Are you here?” She checked both fields, poked her head into the Blessed Land, knocked on the door of the freshly renovated house. But she was nowhere to be seen.

Then, suddenly, a flash of light. The same as the others when they teleported somewhere else. Mu Xia couldn’t wait to learn that technique. “Shijie, you’re home! I brought- ” She stopped short.

It... was Shijie. She could tell. But the usual flowing robes and perfectly styled hair were in horrible disarray, and covered in... substances. Mud was the least egregious of the substances, but Mu Xia could also see some sort of green-grey plant sap that smelled horrible, more green goop, and blood (?!) in various shades and consistencies. “Shijie?!”

Instead of asking for help or something, Shijie wobbled and mumbled, “whatimezit?”

“I...” Mu Xia checked the position of the sun. “Almost dusk.”

“Mmm,” Shijie nodded. “Worms.”

And she teetered off, in the direction of her silkworm hut. Mu Xia followed helplessly. As Shijie pulled a large bundle of mulberry leaves from her storage ring, Mu Xia asked, “Shijie, are you alright?”

Shijie nodded again. “Jss tired. Still got,” she paused, trying to visibly count up her remaining tasks.

That wouldn’t do at all! “No, you’ve got nothing to do until you’re cleaned up and rested!” Mu Xia spread the rest of the leaves over the worms, grabbing Shijie’s arm and pulling her towards the house.

Shijie pulled away before they could enter, detouring to the waterfall. To Mu Xia’s shock, she stood under it for a few minutes, allowing the water to wash away the substances. Then she stripped her clothes off, replacing them with a clean, dry set from her ring, while Mu Xia went “Eep!” and turned around.

Finally, Shijie sat down at her table, Mu Xia across from her. The waterfall had woken her up enough to speak in full sentences, so when Mu Xia set down the basket and opened the lid, her eyes lit up and she said, “Dumplings! Thank you Mu-shimei, I was starting to get hungry.”

“Aren’t you capable of inedia?” It wasn’t healthy, to survive on inedia for too long, but at the very least it prevented the feeling of hunger. Shijie didn't usually rely on it, but it was useful when she went to the secret realms and didn't want to fill up her storage rings with food.

Shijie made a noise of affirmation and swallowed her dumpling. “Yeah, but not for more than a few days. Maybe once I hit Core, but not yet.”

Mu Xia subtly pushed the plate closer. “What were you doing anyways?”

“I needed more golden disks. I used them all up learning spells, which means I don’t have enough for research and development, or to upgrade my axe.” Shijie ate another dumpling. Jin Li crept off of his nest and sniffed at one, then wrinkled his nose. “If I can do that, I can get past those ironwood tree roots that are blocking the path to the eastern forest, see if I can find out what’s in there. Maybe there’s a great treasure that we can use to rebuild the sect.” She looked critically at the half of a dumpling she was holding. “Do you think I can get seeds for chives? I’d like some more aromatics to work with, and these are good. Do you have the recipe?”

Mu Xia nodded. “I finished developing it today. If you liked them, I was going to introduce them to the inn menu.” Shijie had very good taste. If she liked something, odds were it would do well with many customers.

“The usual arrangement then.” Ingredients, to repay the time Mu Xia spent developing her recipe, and to thank her for her generosity. “Assuming I can get chive seeds in.”

“If you can, I’ll see about getting more recipes with them in.” Mu Xia fidgeted with her sleeve. “Shijie, is that. Is that how you usually look when you leave town for a few days?”

Shijie huffed, offended. “I wasn’t gone for a few days, I have to be back every day to feed the worms. They’re very important Mu-shimei.”

“Of course,” she said, conciliatory. “But why didn’t I see you yesterday then?”

A long moment of silence. Shijie was more awake, but still not to her usual calibre, it seemed, as it was taking her a minute to think that through. “Oh, I guess I did feed them at 3 in the morning yesterday. And the day before. And then it was straight back to the desert.”

“Shijie! How long has it been since you slept?” Another long pause, that Mu Xia didn’t let her finish. “Go to bed! Right now!”

“But I have to sweep the forest for flowers, and then I have to schedule some classes for tomorrow, and I need more krill so I have to fish some of those up tonight, and having more pearl dust is always useful and -”

“Go to bed!”

It took another few minutes of corralling her, but eventually Shijie was laying in her bed, Jin Li curled smugly on her chest, preventing her form moving. In just a few seconds, she was asleep.

Mu Xia breathed a sigh of relief. Then she got out her paper crane talisman. Shijie did so much for them. They could do a few things for her, at least for tonight.

[secretagentsociety]

yandere demon king X reader

I really like the idea of a demon king all powerful and all feared by everyone,shows no mercy to anyone but when it involves you he will melt like butter

Yandere demon king who pretended to be a normal farmer boy,conveniently his farm was the one farthest away from all civilization

Yandere demon king who took one look at you and decides your soul will be his,every inch of you will be his

Yandere demon king who had to really restrain his strength or he might ended up injuring you his lovely fiancé

after months of playing pretend living normally by the country side,you one day came home with very very sad news

the demon king has put a curse upon the prince,and you've been nominated to be the sacrificial lamb meant to ward away luck, you'd came home from the town hall crying your eyes out complaining to kaziel as his eyes slowly became dark

yandere demon king who'd soothes you slowly coping you to sleep,he made sure to hug you tightly as you bawled your eyes out,his beautiful little treasure his pretty soul his future spouse

Yandere demon king who softly whispered word of affirmation and confessed his love to you every night as if his life depends on it,stood Infront of a dead body who'd been brutally murdered

it'll be so sad for him to have to leave you behind,it took his subordinates alot of convincing for him to go back to the demon realm,even then the elders had to threaten your safety and he can't have that

he'd came up with a reason giving you a cute little plush toy of him "don't be scared to call my name if you ever need me okay?" He said Caressing your face

yandere demon king who'd be absolutely touch starved after he came home back to you, he'd be very clingy you barely had any room to move around with how much he clings onto you

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

at night two demons from the demon realm sneaked inside your shared home they wondered why they have been given the job of assasinating a human,a weak human no less for devilssake!their the top assassins!

"you two must've gotten lost" they suddenly heard from behind, turning around they were met with the piercing eyes of their king "YOUR MAJEST-"

"shut up,do you wish to awoken my beloved?!" Kaziel asked,the two assassins quickly quieted down but trembling nonetheless

"now then" a faint glow appeared on kaziels eyes

in the mean while you're sleeping soundly muttering something in the line of foods and mother's

at the break of dawn the shadow guards placed by kaziel around your house all had a twisted look on their face seeing the faith of the two assassins their ruly is truly a cold blooded man

How you didn't see it goes beyond them,but this isn't so bad either,by far the easiest job they've done considering you rarely walk around often opting to read books or let your frustration out on some poor burning woods

slowly you opened your eyes to see a bloody man standing Infront of you....is that?..."kaziel?" You asked eyes still heavy with sleep

"shhh go back to sleep my love" he whispered kissing your forehead suddenly you felt the sudden urge to fall back asleep,well there's no reason to fight the feeling you gladly accepted the sleep with open arms

"six,ten" kaziel called out

two shadow guard appeared behind him kneeling "yes master" they said in unison

"clean this mess for me" he said wiping his hand off with some handkerchiefs before rejoining you in bed

[roseofdarknessblog]

Taking chances (Postwar!Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Word count: 4 540

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Summary: A year after the Rumbling, Levi finally has the chance to open the tea shop he always wanted. But due to his lasting health issues, he doesn't think it's a good idea.

This story can be read on its own or as a part of my little post-war series: Learn to live again

Taking chances

„Thank you so much, have a lovely day,“ you said and smiled at the elder lady, who handed you a piece of cheese wrapped in brown waxed paper. She already knew both you and Levi because her amazing selection of cheeses made you come back to her little stall every single time. „Here, you can cross off another item from the shopping list.“

„It's still ridiculously long,“ Levi muttered, taking the cheese from your hands and putting it in your favorite wicker basket you loved taking to the farmers market. When he came with you, he always kept it in his lap while your shopping list was in his hand with a pencil he used to check off the things you've already bought. „Do we really need all of this?“

„How do you expect me to cook if we don't have food at home?“ you teased him lovingly, before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. When he was sitting in his wheelchair, he simply had to put up with this cute little habit of yours.

While he wasn't a huge fan of PDA, you loved showing him love and affection anytime and anywhere. But only if it didn't make him feel too uncomfortable. After all, with a husband so handsome and charming, you simply couldn't help it. You wanted the whole world to know just how much you loved him.

Even more, because he didn't think of himself as handsome and charming.

„Right, you need lots of things because you keep messing up,“ he teased you, looking over his shoulder to see your reaction.

„Oh, stop that! I'm getting better at cooking and baking. Just ask Onyankopon, he's very proud of my progress.“

During your life in the Survey Corps, you never had time to learn your way around the kitchen. Cooking and baking were foreign territory to you, so now you had to learn almost everything. All you could do by yourself were the most basic things. But Onyankopon was so nice that he agreed to teach you. While on Paradis, he never mentioned just how great of a cook he was, so it was a huge surprise for both you and Levi.

He used to come over whenever he had some time, commanding you around in your small kitchen. With all the patience in the world, he explained everything and helped you prepare many delicious sweet, and savory dishes. The bad thing was, that they almost always turned out good solely when he was there. When you tried doing some of them alone... the kitchen ended up looking like a battlefield and the food was questionable.

„And hey, if you don't like my cooking, how about you take over? I'll gladly stand by and comment on everything like you always do it to me.“

„Not that I would be standing around...“

You chuckled when he tilted his head back and looked at you. It was such a shitty thing to say, that only Levi would do it and make fun of himself. And to be honest, he didn't do it often. Only on very rare occasions, which came once in a blue moon.

„The point is, I'm making progress. Soon I'll be the better cook of the two of us.“

„Yeah, only in your dreams. Learning how to prepare tea the way I like it took you almost two decades,“ he scoffed.

Sometimes it really made you upset. The fact, that your husband, who was missing an eye, two fingers and had trouble standing or walking without aid, was a better cook than you. It seemed that he knew his way around the kitchen naturally, while you felt like a fish on the shore – disoriented and full of panic. While Levi handled everything with grace, you were a walking disaster.

„The funny thing is that you hated cooking in the past. In the Underground... you hated that shitty little kitchen we had.“

He nodded slowly. „That's why Furlan was the one in charge.“

You smiled upon hearing his name. It's been so many years since he, Isabel, Levi and you lived together under the Capital of Paradis. Despite that, you still remembered the day the three of them left and you stayed behind. It took Levi almost a year until he came back for you – after Furlan and Isabel passed away during their first expedition beyond the Walls. Since then, it was only you and Levi. Through thick and thin, leading the Survey Corps by Erwin and Hange's side, and surviving the Rumbling, which wiped out 80% of the population.

It was a true miracle, that you two were still alive and now living a completely different life after so many years of fighting for the sake of humanity.

The Rumbling happened more than a year ago and since then... well, countless things changed. For the better and for the worse. Leaving Paradis behind, managing Levi's health, getting used to so many new things in the outside world, getting engaged and married just half a year later... Too many things were completely different from a year ago.

Both of you were still suffering and recovering at the same time. While you only mentally, Levi was still dealing with a lot of pain and discomfort. On top of all the mental health issues, he had to face himself as well. Nightmares kept coming and going for the both of you, while your own anxiety was sometimes threatening to suffocate you. Although it wasn't as bad as before, when you weren't even able to walk down the street due to the fear of the new place and people, you were still having a hard time with many things.

Healing was simply taking... too much time. At least that's how you saw it. Yes, you got to survive and have a future, but this still wasn't the life you so desperately wanted. Not for you and not for Levi. His disabilities... hurt you in a way you had no idea you could hurt. Ever. It was a brand new kind of pain you didn't know even existed before. It was coming from your own inability to help him be the man he was before. The man he wanted to be again.

„You okay?“ Levi asked after a long moment of silence, as you were making your way through the farmers market of the little seaside town you were living in now. Early Wednesday mornings were the best time to come – many great deals that would be available throughout the whole day, but still just a few people.

Everything looked very pretty and calming in the soft morning lights. All the colors of everything you laid your eyes on. The sellers were nice and friendly, many of them already knowing who you and Levi were. Some of them liked to chat with you a little every time you came here, others simply said hello and gave you a bright smile. It looked like... it looked like they were truly grateful, that thanks to you and your comrades, they still have all of this – their homes, jobs, families, friends, and their lives.

But despite being grateful and happy, that you found such a nice place to live, sometimes it got too much. All the noises from the people, who were watching you and who knew your identity. Sometimes... it simply didn't feel right to you.

Forcing your lungs to take a long and deep breath was suddenly too hard. You could feel the familiar uneasiness rise inside your chest, making it feel uncomfortably tight. „Yeah, yeah... just got a little lost in my thoughts. I'm fine.“

„Don't go down the rabbit hole again.“ You nodded even if Levi couldn't see you. He was right, tho. Getting drowned in your own memories and worries would only end up in falling back into depression once again. And avoiding that was your main goal every single day. You didn't spend so many years fighting to be killed by your own mind when the war was finally over. „Focus on what we need to get next,“ he said in a calm tone. „Breathe and try to stay in this moment with me.“

You tried taking a deep breath again, succeeding this time, as you continued walking forward, pushing Levi's wheelchair in front of you. For a moment, you stopped looking around and kept your eyes on the top of his head in front of you, focusing on breathing as calmly as possible. „Okay, what else do we need? You have the shopping list.“ Keeping your body busy and mind distracted by the truly important things was the key. Your past didn't need you, but the present moment did. And with it, Levi needed you as well.

And after all... nothing was happening at that moment. Nothing. Everything was completely okay. You were safe, had your husband close and together you were doing one of the most mundane tasks of an ordinary life. All you had to do, was keep yourself grounded and slow down your racing heart, that was freaking out for no logical reason.

Levi looked at you for a moment and after you gave him a reassuring smile, he started reading all the things you wanted to buy – onions, peppers, tomatoes, carrots, potatoes, rice, bread, eggs, apples, and cherries. You nodded at every word he said, slowly letting go of your memories once again and focusing on shopping.

You kept your mind busy by looking at the different stalls once again, taking in every little detail that caught your eye. All the vegetables, fruits, spices, and many more things needed for the kitchen, or other parts of the household. You focused on how the sellers arranged their products, on the prices written on little blackboards, or on the fresh flower decorations some of them had put on. You took in the whole atmosphere of the market, letting it pull you back into reality.

Within the next hour, you got everything you needed and also a little something that was not part of your shopping list. You simply couldn't say no to a couple of incredibly smelling herb bars of soap and to a nice straw hat with a yellow ribbon. Your last stop was a little stall, where a young man was selling different kinds of teas or homemade fruit juices. Without a doubt, this stall was Levi's favorite and you had to make a stop every single time and get at least one thing. So by the time you were truly done shopping, the basket in Levi's lap was almost completely full.

„Ready to head back home? It's about time we eat some breakfast.“ your husband asked, while you were pushing his wheelchair away from the farmers market.

„Not quite yet,“ you said, smirking a little for yourself.

„What? Why not?“ He sounded a little annoyed, but when you didn't say anything else, he decided not to ask and simply trust you. The additional journey you were making was just a short one. Your surprise stop was just a few doors down the street you lived on.

When you stopped in front of a small and empty shop next to a toy store, which was very popular with all the kids in the town, Levi looked over his shoulder with furrowed brows. You smiled at him, squeezing his left shoulder lovingly.

„What the hell are you smiling about?“ he asked, placing his hand on top of yours, his warm skin coming in contact with the cold metal of your wedding band. It was simple but held so many beautiful memories. Your wedding was small, but all the more precious and simply perfect. The calm and warm atmosphere, that your closest friends helped to create, was exactly what you were looking for – on your wedding day and in your marriage as well.

„Onyankopon said, that there used to be a caffé. It closed down around the same time we moved here,“ you stood next to him and started explaining, your voice calm but with a tiny hint of excitement. „It's for sale now and it seems nobody is really interested.“

„And?“ Levi asked, still not understanding why you were telling him all this.

You took one last deep breath, fairly afraid to continue. „What if we bought it?“

He furrowed his brows even more, pulling his hand back and putting it around the basket in his lap. It seemed that he had a truly hard time finding the right words for your offer.

„Are you out of your mind? What the hell would we do with a place like this?“ he spoke finally, his voice surprisingly cold and flat.

„We could open that tea shop you always wanted,“ you said quietly, locking eyes with him, when he looked in your direction again, his hand once again finding yours. His confused expression seemed almost too cute. „I mean... we still have some money left and... well...“

„Spit it out!“ he commanded, his grip on your hand getting stronger.

„I went to the Town Hall and asked around about this place. They said that if we wanted to open our own business of any kind, the town would lend us money, to help us set everything up and actually start earning. Eventually, we'll have to pay it back, obviously.“

Despite this little risk, it still seemed like an amazing opportunity. You knew how much Levi wanted his own tea shop. It was his dream for many years and now it was finally close enough to grab and turn into reality.

„What do you think?“ you asked him when he didn't react to your previous words. Sadly, everything was written all over his face, which became blank and almost sad.

„I don't think it's a good idea, Y/N. Not when I'm like this,“ he said almost too quietly, letting go of your hand.

You immediately shook your head. „Hey, hey... listen, don't talk like that!“ Even if he tried his best to adjust to the new reality, you knew Levi was suffering every single day. He wasn't able to find peace with how things turned out for him. Not even after a whole year, was he truly content with his disabilities. Not after being active throughout his whole life and being known as Humanity's strongest soldier.

When it came to walking, he was able to do it – with the help of his cane or while you were holding one of his arms, to help him with stability. But bearing his own weight for a longer time was simply too much for his left knee. Walking and standing caused him excruciating pain almost every single time, so he really had no other option except to use his wheelchair.

That fact alone wasn't even what made him so angry. It was the reality of appearing weak and vulnerable. Something he was never used to. Not, when during your time with the Scouts he was always the one people relied on. He was a living and breathing legend everybody knew about – people from all branches of the military and civilians as well.

„We would manage. I know we would, darling,“ you said, interlocking your fingers again and lovingly kissing the top of his head. „We need something to do. Something that will give our lives a new meaning. Something that will keep us busy.“ Money was always needed, but it wasn't the main reason now. All you wanted, was something that would help you and Levi heal further. Something, that would help you find a new purpose.

Levi shook his head without looking at you. To be honest, you weren't expecting a reaction like this. Wide smiles and loud cheers weren't his thing either but.... you truly felt disappointed in the lack of interest he showed. The lack of will to turn his dream into reality.

„Levi, having a place like this has always been your dream and...“

„Enough, let's go home,“ he hissed through gritted teeth, looking down the almost empty street, which was illuminated by the warm sunlight. It looked like today was going to be another beautiful summer day.

„But...“

„I said enough!“ he repeated himself a bit louder, his right hand, which was missing two fingers, curling into a fist. „Let's go home.“ You could hear the pain in the tone of his voice, but you did obey this time. With one last look at the empty shop, you took hold of his wheelchair once again and started walking towards your little apartment on the ground floor, which was just a few minutes away.

The day went by rather quickly. Maybe because you spent half of it in the kitchen. You managed to prepare a pretty good pasta salad and your cherry pie also turned out edible. A little sour because of the cherries and the lack of sugar, but you liked it anyway. It was probably one of the best things you've ever baked.

„May I come in?“ you asked after knocking on the bedroom door. Levi spent the whole day inside, reading and trying to appear busy, so he didn't have to talk to you. He barely even said anything while you were eating together.

When he stayed quiet, you rested your forehead against the door with a silent sigh. Communication was the most important thing in every single relationship. Romantic or not. And while both you and Levi knew it, sometimes it was simply too hard to sit down and open up about what was troubling you.

„Darling...“ you said quietly, keeping your hand on the door handle. „I'm really sorry if I made you feel upset or angry with that idea. That wasn't my intention at all.“

Some days it was very hard to find the right words. Hurting him or making him feel sad was the last thing you wanted. That's why sometimes it was better to stay quiet and simply wait it out. Give him the space to grieve the past, present, and future.

„I'll go make something for dinner, then. What would you like?“ you asked after another moment of painful silence. It seemed, that backing down was the smartest move to do.

But just before you walked away, you heard Levi's voice from behind the door. He said your name quietly, maybe hoping that you had already left. That's why you waited for a second and only then slowly opened the door. You found your husband sitting on the edge of the bed, a closed book put down next to him.

„Can we talk?“ you asked, not sure about what was going through his head when he looked up at you. His face seemed much more tired than in the morning, even though last night was full of nightmares. For the both of you, unfortunately.

For the past few nights, you weren't able to escape one of the worst memories of your life – leaving Hange behind, while they held up Eren's Titans. Having Hange in your life felt almost natural since the very first day you spent aboveground. They were simply always there, for you and for others. Accepting their fate felt as if somebody was ripping your heart out of your chest, while you were screaming and begging them to stop torturing you.

„Look, I'm sorry about the way I reacted earlier,“ Levi said, gripping the edge of the bed with one of his hands. It almost seemed that looking up and into your eyes took all his energy. „I know you only meant well. You always do.“

With a loving smile on your lips, you came to sit down next to him. „I thought you would be excited at least a little bit,“ you admitted, very carefully inching your hand closer to his. Any kind of physical contact was a hit or miss in these kinds of situations so you always tried to be as careful as possible. „Did it scare you? The possibility of truly turning your dream into reality?“

„It made me feel upset... angry, even.“

„Why?“

He took a deep breath, searching for the best words to use so you would understand his inner conflict over this whole situation. „How am I supposed to run my own business like this?“ The way he looked over at his left leg broke your heart. The tone of his voice was so cold and angry. So disappointed.

„You know more than well, that I would have your back. It would be our responsibility, not solely yours, Levi,“ you tried explaining, while the tips of your fingers brushed against his skin. When he didn't pull his hand away, you very gently grabbed it. „I know it's difficult, I really do. I try to understand the best I can. And you know that I support you in everything. But... not now. You're going to regret it, if we don't buy that empty store and put in all the work, to make your dream come true.��

Levi closed his eyes with a heavy sigh, his body tiredly leaning against yours. He pulled his hand from your grip so he could wrap his arm around your waist to keep you close. Confused, you leaned your head against his, waiting for him to say or do something.

„I'm beyond blessed to have you by my side after all the shit we went through. Sometimes... I still think it's a dream. I think about how I'm going to wake up back in the Scout's HQ with your death report on my desk.“

„Levi...“ You felt a lump form in your throat upon hearing his broken voice. You had a few close calls with death, but you always pulled through, thankfully.

„And when I finally realize, that we made it out of that hell alive, I feel like... like I'm not allowed to ask or wish for anything else.“ His grip around your waist tightened a little, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. „I have you, we're married and we have a fairly nice roof over our heads. Why should I ask for anything else?“

You swallowed hard, battling with your emotions, as your right hand started rubbing his back comfortingly. „Because you can. And you really should, you deserve it. Every good thing this world has to offer because you were the one, who sacrificed the most to save humanity.“

„No, you don't get it...“

„I think I do,“ you interrupted him. „And I don't agree with you. Most people in your place would be selfish and take everything that was offered to them. Every single thing, without thinking about it for more than a few seconds. They would take every chance to do something for themselves to feel good and happy. To put their wants and dreams before everything else.“

„I'm not most people.“

„I know, but I think that right now, you should try being like them. For this one thing, you always wanted so much.“ You could tell he didn't like the tone in which you were talking to him, but you kept on going. All you wanted, was for him to be happy and have everything he ever wanted. Absolutely everything. „If you're scared about looking selfish or anything similar, you don't have to. I want this too, Levi. For us. Owning and running such a place will help us heal even more and that's what we want, right?“

When he took a deep breath but didn't actually say anything, you knew you hit a very sensitive spot. Unfortunately, this was how healing looked like for you and Levi. Constantly getting uncomfortable and being forced to face your darkest and most painful emotions and thoughts. Admitting, that you simply weren't the same people as last year. Accepting, that this was your reality, your life.

„I know it hurts, Levi. I know it, I see the suffering in your eyes every single day, even if I sometimes don't say anything. But if we don't force ourselves to...“

„I can't fucking walk!“ he screamed out, putting all of his anger and frustration into those four words. You could feel his whole body shake a little, while he was still leaning against you, his breathing becoming a bit heavier.

„I know,“ you said almost inaudibly, your hand traveling from his back to the back of his head. While you could feel your eyes filling up with tears, you tried staying as calm as possible, letting your fingers run through his silky soft hair.

What broke your will to stay strong, was when you noticed that Levi was crying. Tears were running down his cheeks, his lips pressed into a thin line so as to not let out a single sound. Since the Rumbling, you have seen and heard him cry more times than throughout your entire time together. And despite that, you still felt unimaginable pain, when tears rolled down his cheeks again.

„We promised each other that we'll be happy,“ you said after a minute, pressing a kiss into his hair. „And opening that tea shop is one huge step closer to that happiness. It will work out, I know it will. I'm sure.“ No, you weren't. But you had to lie to yourself and him, to keep your true emotions in check. „You don't have to give me an answer right now, just promise me that you'll think about it.“

Very gently, you pulled away from him and held his face in your warm hands. Your thumbs wiped away every single tear, while you forced your lips to form a smile. Seeing him so broken and sad was the worst possible punishment for a loving wife like you. For someone, who was with Levi since before he joined the Scouts. He suffered a horrible amount of pain throughout the years, and yet nothing broke him like this. Nothing left him feeling so powerless.

„You are still you, Levi,“ you whispered, pressing your lips to his forehead. Keeping your own tears from rolling down your cheeks was becoming harder and harder, almost impossible by the time you pulled away. „And I really hope you'll let yourself be truly happy one day.“

„Nothing will ever make me happier than having you by my side,“ he said, when you wiped away the last of his tears, before leaning in for a sweet long kiss. Your foreheads ended up resting against each other, as Levi kept his eyes closed, focusing on calming down his own emotions, taking slow deep breaths alongside you. „Thank you for giving me this opportunity.“

„You know I'll do anything for you. Anything.“ In the past, you killed for this man. You killed Titans and humans to keep him alive. And if it came down to it, you would do it again. Without any hesitation.

When silence fell over the bedroom, you knew the discussion was over. At least for today. When Levi wrapped his arms around you and when he hid his face in the crook of your neck, you finally let some of your tears fall. Holding him tight as he started crying silently once again, you hoped with your whole heart, that today was another step forward and closer to happiness.

[hungrywriter]

Herbs & Hearts (pt.1)

Raiden x f!reader

Raiden and Kung Lao entered Madam Bo's restaurant, instantly greeted by a delightful medley of sweet and savoury smells emanating from the kitchen where Madam Bo worked her culinary magic. They were welcomed by the owner herself, who guided them to their usual table, the spot where they often hung out.

As usual, they playfully argued over who would be picking up the tab for their meal. After this spirited exchange, they stood up in an open area to engage in a friendly martial arts match. Their battle was intense, but in the end, Kung Lao emerged as the winner. His celebration, however, led to an accident when he bumped into a waiter carrying a bowl of noodles, causing the food to go airborne.

The whole restaurant fell silent, anticipating a mess, but from the kitchen, a figure swiftly emerged, wearing a farmer's hat and the familiar restaurant's apron. With incredible dexterity, this person skillfully caught the flying food and restored it to the tray, as if the accident never occurred. The customers, initially holding their breath, broke into applause. The restaurant quickly returned to its usual bustling activity, with the incident soon forgotten.

Raiden and Kung Lao couldn't contain their curiosity and approached the mysterious saviour. When the figure looked up, they immediately recognized her as Y/n, their childhood friend. Y/n was the adopted daughter of Madam Bo, the chef of the restaurant. Madam Bo had found Y/n as a baby, abandoned at her doorstep with nothing but a tattered cloth to protect her frail body. There were stories circulating that suggested divine intervention, as some believed that gods had descended from the heavens to save her. These tales led some superstitious parents in the neighbourhood to warn their children to be cautious around Y/n, fearing that they might inadvertently offend these mysterious deities and bring about a curse.

However, it was only Raiden who immediately welcomed Y/n as a friend. Kung Lao, on the other hand, needed some convincing, but as the years passed, he too grew to love Y/n, not only as a friend but also for her exceptional fighting skills. The trio grew up together and trained martial arts under Madam Bo, forging a strong and enduring bond.

Y/n smiled at them and continued serving customers. The two friends couldn't contain their joy and embraced Y/n. The boys were aware of Y/n's deep passion for plants and her fascination with studying various herbs. She was often found in her room, conducting experiments and nurturing her own herbs. This love for botanical pursuits led her to embark on journeys in search of herbs that she insisted couldn't be found in the village.

Initially, the boys expressed concern and offered to accompany her on these trips, but Y/n politely declined their assistance. Madam Bo, too, advised them not to accompany Y/n, encouraging her independence. In order to avoid upsetting the wise elder woman, the boys eventually accepted and let Y/n pursue her herb-hunting adventures on her own.

"Y/n, when did you come back? We've missed you!" Kung Lao said, affectionately pinching her cheeks. The female laughed at his actions and put her hands over his to get him away from her cheeks. 

"I got back this morning. Mother told me to rest, but you know I can't just sit still for too long," Y/n replied as she picked up a tray of food from the kitchen and resumed serving the customers, with the boys trailing behind her. As she went about her tasks, Raiden couldn't help but notice the bandage on her left foot and her slight limp when she walked.

"What happened to your foot?" he inquired. Setting the food on a table, Y/n turned to face them, a touch perplexed at first, but then realising what he was referring to.

"Oh, I just ran into a bit of trouble during my journey," she nonchalantly shrugged. However, seeing their worried expressions, she swiftly reassured them that she had managed the situation. Kung Lao offered a hearty chuckle and cheered for her, while Raiden could only shake his head, sighing in concern.

Y/n felt a slight disappointment in his reaction, but her spirits lifted when he smiled at her. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled her close to his chest.

"Well, as long as you come back in one piece, love petal," he whispered, kissing her head. Y/n returned the hug and turned her head away to hide the growing blush on her face. Kung Lao let out an exaggerated scoff and rolled his eyes before heading back to their table. The duo then parted ways and joined each other at their table, ready to relish their meal and dive into a conversation about Y/n's recent adventures.

[cariantha]

Friends Again

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Category: Fluff Word count: 2.2K Summary: Ethan loses something important. Prompt: Imagine your OTP where both of them have a piece of jewelry that symbolizes their friendship, and it was just for fun and definitely not serious. But when one of them loses their jewelry, they start to realize that it (and their relationship) meant more to them than they thought. A/N: This is a prequel of sorts to Bad Dream. Some of the dialogue used is taken directly from Open Heart: Second Year.

A week before the conference in Miami…

The hour-long drive seemed to pass in the blink of an eye with conversation flowing easily between the attending and his intern. They had reached their destination, the Boston Medical Library, situated on the University of Massachusetts campus. 

“Thanks again for coming and helping me with this research. I’m sure you had better things to do this weekend,” Ethan said, parking and turning off the engine. 

“You. Are. Welcome,” Sawyer playfully chimed as she unbuckled her seat belt. "And what’s better than solving a medical mystery and saving a man’s life?” 

She didn’t have to add “duh” to the end of that sentence. Ethan heard it in her tone and it made him smile on the inside. “God, where have you been all my life?” he thought to himself.

As they headed towards the library, they couldn’t help but notice the large farmer’s market set up in the adjacent parking lot. 

“That looks fun,” Sawyer remarked as she eyed the various booths from a distance. A variety of vendors sold everything from fresh produce, to homemade baked goods, to arts and crafts. 

Knowing it would make her happy, Ethan couldn’t resist. “Do you want to check it out?”

“You wouldn’t mind?” she asked, surprised. 

“Not at all. Believe it or not, I enjoy going to the farmer’s market. My dad and I would go when I was young. There’s a good one at Copley Square you should check out sometime,” he recommended, guiding her toward the first row of tents.

The pair strolled from booth to booth, inspecting all the different goods for sale. Along the way, they laughed at the silly products, exchanged personal stories, and sampled some of the food and drink. 

“Ohmygod,” Sawyer moaned, the chocolate melting on her tongue. “You have to try this,” she insisted, holding a sample to Ethan’s lips. Naturally and without thinking, he leaned forward eating the morsel right out of her hand, his lips brushing softly against her fingertips.

“It’s good, right?” she watched as he chewed and nodded affirmatively.

“Would you like me to pack up a box for you?” an older gentleman approached. 

Ethan reached for his wallet, “We’ll take two boxes.” 

“Happy wife, happy life! Am I right?” the vendor chuckled as he filled a container with chocolate truffles.

Seizing the opportunity to have a little fun at Ethan’s expense, Sawyer quickly replied. “Oh, he’s not my husband… yet. Two years of dating and he still hasn’t put a ring on it,” she waved the back of her ringless left hand. 

Ethan snapped his head to Sawyer and with bulging eyes silently asked, “What are you doing?”

“Back in my day, you took a test drive and either made the purchase or kept looking… none of this leasing business,” the outspoken elder shook his head. “I proposed to my beautiful Margie one month after our first date, and I married her three months later. When you know, you know… you know?”

“That’s what I’ve been telling him!” Sawyer continued the act, gently backhanding Ethan in the gut.

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose and whispered under this breath, “For Christ’s sake.” 

Sawyer burst out laughing, finally breaking character. When the vendor looked at her puzzled, she confessed. “Sorry, we’re not actually together.” Elbowing Ethan in the side, “I just couldn’t resist messing with him. We’re just friends.” 

“Well, in my experience, that's a good place to start,” the man winked, handing Ethan his purchase.  

As they walked away, he shoved a box of truffles towards Sawyer with feigned annoyance. “Friends? Ha! More like a giant pain in my ass,” he contended. 

A short while later they found a fresh produce booth. Ethan quickly occupied himself, inspecting and sniffing different fruits and vegetables. If Sawyer had been paying attention, she might have learned how capable he was with all the beautiful ingredients, but she was distracted by another nearby vendor. When Ethan struck up a conversation with the produce farmer, she slipped away to make a quick purchase.

“Where’d you go?” Ethan asked when she returned.

“I got you something. Hold out your hand,” she urged.

Ethan raised a skeptical eyebrow, but reluctantly did as she said. 

Sawyer looped a braided leather bracelet around his wrist and fastened it. 

He took a closer look, examining the metal charms. One with the letter E, and another with the letter S. “What’s this for?”

“It’s a friendship bracelet,” she explained, “and since I'm giving it to you, it's official now. We are definitely friends.”

“Is that so?” 

“I don’t make the rules,” she shrugged.

“I’m pretty sure you just did.”

Ignoring his snark, “Oh, and it’s tradition that when someone gives you a friendship bracelet, you get to make a wish.”

Ethan just rolled his eyes. But as juvenile as it seemed, he knew exactly what he would wish for. “I’d wish for you,” he said to himself.

“Hey,” she took his hand and held it for a moment. “In all seriousness, you know I’m here as a friend, right? I mean… I’m learning a lot working with you on this case, and I’m grateful for the experience, but that’s not why I volunteered to help. I’m not here as an intern kissing your ass.”

Ethan knew from the very beginning that Sawyer was someone he could trust. Unlike other interns who would expect something in return, like a leg up in the competition, he knew she had no ulterior motives. Just the kindest and most genuine heart. 

He looked her in the eye and squeezed her hand. “I know, Sawyer.”

Five months later…

Alone in the beer garden at Donahue's, Sawyer sat on her tucked leg, facing Ethan’s glowing profile. He stared straight ahead, transfixed by the firepit's dancing flames.

Having mustered the courage to confront the elephant in the room, Sawyer broke the somber silence that had settled between them. “Ethan, why didn’t you keep in touch?” She watched him take a deep, anticipatory breath. “No word from you at all for two months? After everything that happened between us?”

Ethan took a moment to find his words, then turned his head to meet her eyes. “Everything that happened between us is exactly why I didn’t contact you,” he began to explain. “Sawyer, if we’re going to work together on the diagnostics team, we need a fresh start.” 

Resisting every urge to reach out and take her hand when she looked away from him, he pressed on. “Your professional development is too important to jeopardize it with whatever… whatever it was that we had.”

Sawyer snapped her head back to face him, “‘Had’, past tense.”

Ethan reached for the whiskey bottle that he had grabbed from inside and poured himself another glass. The sleeve of his green leather jacket rode up just enough for Sawyer to notice a braided bracelet wrapped around his wrist. The same one she gave him a week before their relationship went from friends to forbidden fruit. 

“Yes. And the past is where it has to remain,” he added. Ethan’s eyes bored into hers, searching for understanding and begging for forgiveness. 

After a long moment, Sawyer broke the connection, looking down at his wrist again. She thought it ironic that he would wear a reminder of “whatever they had,” while insisting that they must now ignore and bury their feelings for one another. That cheap piece of jewelry meant something to him. And the fact that he wore it now, meant that she did too. 

So without concern for the consequences, she tested her theory. Surging forward, she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and kissed him. A long and gentle kiss. An act of forgiveness, and one that he seemed willing to accept since he hadn’t pulled away. But when she leaned back, she saw the turmoil written across his face. Just as she had months ago in Miami. 

“Dammit, Sawyer.” 

A few weeks later…

As much as he hated to admit it, Ethan desperately missed Sawyer. He missed their easy friendship. The way she always seemed to know what he was thinking. The way he could talk to her about anything. The way he could be himself around her. Not Dr. Ramsey, but just Ethan.

Though they saw each other almost everyday, their interactions were mostly transactional. It had been difficult to let their guards down around each other. Ethan found it too tempting to cross the line, and Sawyer grew tired of the knock-backs.   

The night that she helped him set up his Pictagram account reminded Ethan of the way they once were, before he left for the Amazon. It felt normal again. The friendly banter, the trust, the laughter… everything seemed right in the world for those few hours. 

After she had gone home that evening, Ethan opened his desk drawer, finding a cherished item. It was something that he’d kept near and dear since the day he left for the Amazon.  

“...how are you supposed to know when you’ve met the right person?” 

“It’s love, Ethan… you just feel it…” 

He slipped the leather over his fingers and rolled the charms with his thumb, as their conversation echoed in his mind. Then he thought back to the day Sawyer gave him the bracelet. 

“When you know, you know…” he recalled the old, outspoken man saying. 

There was no doubt he felt something for Sawyer, but was it love? Not having much experience with the feeling, he allowed himself to consider the possibility. But how to know for sure? That’s when Ethan remembered something else the vendor at the market said, when Sawyer told him they were just friends.

“Well, in my experience, that's a good place to start.”

A few days later, Sawyer approached the diagnostics team’s office. She spotted Ethan through the glass windows and paused to watch his odd behavior. He was searching for something, lifting up files, checking around the coffee station, and rummaging through the pockets of his outdoors coat. He was on his knees looking under his desk when she finally entered the room. 

“Shit…” he muttered, unaware of her presence. When she cleared her throat, he startled and stood up.  

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Ethan tried to act normal, organizing items on his desk. “Nothing.”

“You sure? It looked like you were searching for something. Can I help you look?”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he clipped. Fortunately, June and Baz joined them for the start of their meeting, and the rookie team member didn’t press any further.  

A couple hours later, Sawyer bumped into Bryce as he stepped out of the men’s restroom. “Oof!” he grunted.

“Sorry!” she quickly apologized as he caught her shoulders.

“Geez, Brooks, I know how bad you want to hit this, but at least buy me a drink first,” he teased, soliciting a roll of the eyes from Sawyer. “Whatcha up to?” he asked.

“Just a quick bathroom break, then off to check on our DT patient. You?”

“I’m on Ortho this week. On my way to scrub in for an ACL reconstruction.”

“Niiice. Well, have fun. I’ll catch you later,” she said, putting her hand on the door to the ladies room.

“Oh hey, do you know where the lost and found is? I found this bracelet on the floor.”

Sawyer instantly recognized the accessory. The personalized charms featuring the letters “E” and “S” were undeniable proof. Then it hit her. Was this what he was searching high and low for earlier? 

“Luckily, I know who that belongs to, and I’m more than happy to return it to them.”

“Cool, catch you later,” he waved.

That afternoon, Sawyer returned to the diagnostics suite. There she found Ethan standing in front of the smartboard, studying MRI results.  

Acknowledging her presence with a side eye glance, “Did you need me for something?”

Sawyer demanded that he hold out his hand.

“Whatever for?” he asked, turning and giving her his full attention.

“Just. Give me. Your hand,” she insisted.

He yielded and held out his hand. 

Sawyer fished the leather band from her pocket and wiggled it in front of his face with a satisfied smirk. "Could this be what you were desperately searching for in the office earlier?"

Ethan hesitated, contemplating what he should admit. He finally decided on, “Maybe.”

She took his hand in hers. But before sliding the bracelet onto his wrist, she looked him in the eyes. “Will you, Ethan Jonah Ramsey, be my friend again?”

He rolled his eyes, cracking a big smile as she batted her eyelashes and eagerly awaited his answer. Then he twisted his lips playfully, as if he had to think about it. 

Sawyer squeezed his hand hard, letting him know there was only one acceptable answer. 

“Okay, okay,” he begged for relief, “I’ll be your damn friend.”

“Good…” she said, her tone more serious as she slid the bracelet over his hand, “because I’ve really missed that lately.”

“Honestly… me too,” he confessed quietly.

“There. That’s a much safer place for it. Wouldn’t you agree?” she asked, making sure the reminder of their friendship was snug and secure.

“I suppose you’re right,” he agreed, giving his wrist a twist.

“Well, friend, maybe we can talk later tonight and catch up a little?”

“Sure, call me,” he started, but then, “No, wait–”

Sawyer’s face fell immediately, assuming he suddenly remembered that he was trying to maintain those infuriating professional boundaries. 

“What are you doing right now?” he asked. “How about a walk to Derry’s for a coffee break?”

Sawyer’s happy smile returned. “I would love that… bestie.”

“Let’s not push it, Sawyer.”

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @zealouscanonindeer @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75 @socalwriterbee @txemrn 

[telleroftime]

I'm tired so here's some Treasure Planet x Reader longfic ideas before I take a nap. All are post-canon by the way:

Silver x Reader where Silver looks back on his life and tries to do something new with it. He no longer has a treasure planet to find and the only thing he's good at outside of pirating is cooking. So, he starts working at Reader's inn/restaurant. They're the only person that will take him in, though if that's because they're kind or desperate he does not know.

Silver x Reader where Silver, inspired by Jim, decides to try and settle down. A retirement sort of deal. He ends up finding a comfortable enough place on a fairly popular planet. The countryside would do him well though he yearns to sail again. The first time he meets Reader, the local blacksmith, is when he needs to get his arm fixed up. They are patient with him and confident enough to comment back their own offhand flirts. Slowly but surely, Silver gets comfortable and Reader is happy that such an exciting ex-pirate settled down in their town.

Silver x Reader where Reader is a teacher. The school they work at just so happens to hire a new cook, who just so happens to be a retired pirate. The two don't interact at first, but after Reader organises a story time for the children and Silver tells one of his own, Reader becomes completely enamoured. The two get along well as Reader helps out in the kitchens in their free time, if only to hear more of his stories.

Silver x Reader where Reader is a scholar. Though they weren't too keen on the cyborg suddenly working at their place of research - be that as a cook or some other not-so-scholarly job - they end up growing fond of the alien. They enjoy his charisma. Eventually, they even offer to sponsor him despite what their colleagues have to say about it. Silver has great stories and Reader knows that. It would be wasted potential otherwise, and the two bond over that.

Of course, because of his pirate background, Reader would have to teach him how to read and write. Well, at least better than the bare minimum. And who's to say no to cute study dates?

Silver x Reader where Reader owns a pub on one of the Etherium's more dangerous space stations. A space station that is known for how many pirates and corrupt politicians it harbours. With Silver's lacklustre lineup of previous jobs, he's lucky that Reader needed a bouncer. Looking at them, he assumed they were someone that would be easy to take advantage of - not that he would - but it turns out the saying it true: don't mess with the barkeep.

Scroop x Reader where Reader is the boss of a gambling den at one of the more notorious pirate strongholds. They just so happened to be in need of a bodyguard to keep the loud clientele in order, and who better to fill the role than someone who begrudgingly admitted to be part of Silver's crew. Well, at least before he was found floating in space that is.

He'd pretty much be 'scary dog privilege' incarnate, though that's not to say that the Reader would be weak. Someone has to keep him in his place, although someone also needs to keep him out of trouble.

Scroop x Reader where Reader is a farmer. They were just about to scare away the Etherium's whales that were floating too close to the small planet's atmosphere when they encountered the arachnid-like alien, unconscious and too cold to the touch. They take him back down and nurse him back to health. Scroop, now stranded with no real life to get back to, helps Reader on the farm. Though he isn't too keen on it.

Scroop could end up learning to relax a little. There is no one he need to perform to anymore. It's just him and Reader, and if he needs alone time with his own thoughts then that's okay too.

Scroop x Reader where Reader and their tribe find Scroop floating in space. He's not too keen on having woken up on a tropical-like planet, let alone in a place where he doesn't understand anyone. He's aggressive and the elders debate whether to just get rid of him. Reader, naturally, decides to keep him around. It takes a while to break through the language barrier, but eventually the relationships better. Scroop shows Reader how to uses a cutlass, Reader shows Scroop how to forage the planet's resources, and the two bond over that.

Scroop x Reader where Reader is a surgeon on a pirate ship. After Scroop's been floating in space he is lucky enough to be picked up by a different band of pirates. He's back to being his mean self, instantly being seen as an outcast that is only kept on board because of his good spacer skills. However, compared to what he was accustomed to when part of Silver's crew, he now has a Reader to deal with. Someone who isn't too happy about being disrespected.

Both would end up growing in the end. Reader, who previously had little skills in terms of ship duties, ends up being taught by Scroop. Well, less teaching and more following him around as if he had a choice. Scroop on the other hand would learn how to take care of others and of himself.

I haven't read this back yet so sorry if there's any errors.

[oldgayjew]

While European farmers have had enough of their government's shit ...

... their governments are picking sides and getting ready for WW III ...

... it's time for the powers that be to shut up and pay attention to We The People before they start their war that we will have to fight ... because that's how they always do it ... Governments never fight wars ... innocent civilians always have to clean up the mess ...

"The necessary war is the one that ultimately solves a problem ... instead of dragging on indefinitely"

BarSefRin - the elder

[lynxgriffin]

Human!Toriel definitely looks like she could be in a cult, but maybe not the human sacrifice kind of cult. Human!Asgore is just some guy to me, though, or maybe a farmer. (Not that farmers can't be cultists, but he just doesn't give off that vibe to me.)

Maybe they got divorced because Asgore wasn't into it as much as Toriel was. Wouldn't that be funny if they got divorced because Asgore didn't kill any humans?

I mean, not to get too real world unfun-ness up on a piece of fantastical fiction, but all cults are made up of just regular guys...even the really messed up ones!

That said, yeah Toriel likely does bookbinding or something else with reading, while Asgore is a gardener or farmer. And I think either way, they may have been starting to have second thoughts about sacrificing Kris, but got pressured into it by the other elders in their group.

And I can't decide if it's a worse dark irony if Asgore refuses to participate and they divorce because of him actually refusing to harm kids, or if they do both participate, and this is the one universe where they don't divorce and their family is worse off for it!

[p00dle]

Ideas for Clubs

I was messing with clubs, and the save got corrupted and I had to delete it all... but I still have some ideas to share, if anyone is interested.

Out of Sixam + Alien & Young Adult + Any nightclub + Open for invitation + Dance, drink bar drinks, use alien powers

Under the Sea + Mermaid & Young Adult + A specific beach + Invite only + Swim, be friendly, flirt, sing [Name] Apprentices + Spellcaster & Any ages + Magic Realm + Invite only + Look for frogs, brew potion, cast spells, read

Dog Lovers + Dog Lover & Any ages + A Dog Park + Open for invitation + Pet Care, be friendly (bring your dogs) Cat Lovers + Cat Lover & Any ages + A Cat Café + Open for invitation + Pet Care, be friendly (bring your cats)

Art Lovers + Art Lover & Any ages + Any arts center + Open for invitation + Paint, view art, knitting, cross-stitching

Music Lovers + Music Lover & Any ages + Any lounge + Open for invitation + Play an instrument, watch live entertainment, sing, listen to music Paparazzi Darlings + Level of fame: 3 stars and above + A specific lounge + Invite only + Gossip, drink

Hipsters + Young adult + A specific café + Invite only + Read, use the computer, drink coffee

So Zen + Any ages + Any spa + Open for invitation + Do yoga, meditation, spa activities

Letterboxed + Young adult + Any club member's house + Invite only + Eat popcorn, watch a movie, be friendly

Farmers, unite! + Young Adult, Adult, Elder + A specific bar + Open for invitation + Be friendly, drink, share info of fishing, crops, garden etc...

[express-archives]

utc is ambrose & artemis' backstory... in an infodump format! this post is written as if i was speaking to another person, and that's because i was when i wrote this HAHAH this was all copied and pasted from a dm with a friend of mine, but i felt compelled to share it here too because... oc lore!!

so. ambrose and artemis. teehee

both of them started off as normal, short-lived humans. the planet they lived on, which was nameless at the time they were born on it (though it was later fondly named 'arcadia'), was rather archaic in its technolgy, completely uncontacted by the IPC or other interstellar organizations, and terribly riddled with war and death. it had been this way since before they were born, and presumably, would be that way for long after they died… of course, it didn't end that way. long before their births, phantylia stumbled across the planet by chance and decided to sew chaos and destruction there; she has been known to enjoy watching humans destroy themselves senselessly, and what kind of lord ravager would she be if she passed up such a delightful opportunity? this chaos and war went on for years, utterly obliterating the planet's resources and slowly but surely making its inevitable death draw nearer and nearer. ambrose and artemis were born a few hundred years into the mess that phantylia created.

ambrose grew up to be a gentle and kind healer, a farmer, and—occasionally—a battle strategist. though harming people was not in their nature, they had no choice if they wanted to protect their people and their family. they also frequently took care of children, since many did not have parents to raise them. artemis grew up to be a powerful and respected soldier, though she would often come home injured and ambrose would tenderly treat her wounds and remind her to be more careful. it became like a little routine for them. neither of their parents remained in the picture (except for ambrose's sickly mother), having long since been killed in the crossfire. they really only had each other to rely on, so they grew quite close over the years.

naturally, being so close, artemis noticed when her elder cousin grew a little more withdrawn in their preteen years. she noticed when they spent more time researching old, historic books. she noticed how odd it was for them.

somewhere along the line, ambrose discovered legends telling stories of (some of) the aeons. ambrose was not the religious type, but watching their people kill one another was destroying them on the inside and this was all they could try to do to stop it. from the ages of 12-ish to 23-ish, ambrose dutifully prayed. they weren't really sure who or what they were directing it towards; really, they were just throwing their thoughts out into the universe in the hopes that something might hear them.

the first time yaoshi's gaze ever shifted in their direction was when they were 19. ambrose recognized that something had seen them, if the overwhelming sense of dread and unease was not enough to indicate it, though they were not certain who or what. but they could do nothing about it except grit their teeth and keep on, regardless of how unsettling it was to be noticed by something no doubt far greater than them.

they did tell artemis about this. how could they not? she was virtually their best friend. artemis had known about ambrose's prayers ever since they started, but she truly did not believe ambrose's experience, though it was more of a knee-jerk reaction than anything.

anyways, the feeling of being seen never quite went away for the next 4 years, and ambrose eventually got very used to it, to the point where if they were not being gazed upon, it was uncomfortable.

the night of their 23rd birthday, yaoshi made themselves properly known to ambrose for the first time via a dream after having carefully observed them for the past four years (though, to an aeon, four years would pass in the blink of an eye, so it seemed like barely any time at all to yaoshi, i would imagine). an old snippet i wrote about that encounter:

They wanted to say something, they really did, but the words only stuck to the sides of their dry throat. Anything they tried to say only got caught and ultimately could not escape. Whatever stood before them was undeniably something far greater than they would ever be. For something so intimidating… their hands were gentle, gingerly stroking whatever skin was exposed in what seemed to be an attempt to get Ambrose to relax. "Be not afraid, little one. I will not bring you any harm," they murmured kindly, lips brushing against one corner of Ambrose's mouth. When had the deity gotten so close? Gods, they couldn't breathe. "You desire to save your home, yes?" "I—" they choked, "Yes, I do, I…" The god's lips pulled into a smile, eyes so soft with pity and sympathy that the mortal couldn't help but wonder what degree of eldritch deity they had managed to get the attention of. Only something so impossibly nonmortal and unearthly would gaze at them like that. A benignant kiss was placed at the corner of Ambrose's lips. "With such a fragile body, helpless to the cruelty of war and violence, you will never manage it." "I know." "I will lend you the strength you need. I will free you from the constraints of mortality, if you will only allow me to do so." "Please," they whispered tearfully, suddenly feeling very pitiable and fragile under their gaze, "I can't… I can't live like this anymore." The god's smile only seemed to widen ever so slightly. Ambrose had difficulty reading their expression; they could not tell what the deity was thinking. Then, a searing pain shot up their leg, and they sucked in a sharp breath. Ambrose was awake in an instant, hand clamped over their mouth to muffle the shriek that threatened to breach their throat so as to not disturb the other members of their household. Their freehand frantically reached down to their leg, and there— There was a swelling welt on their calf, feverish and sore to the touch. A hushed sob reverberated in their chest. It was almost akin to the sting of a scorpion.

following this encounter, ambrose's body rapidly changed to accomodate immortality, and it was with this aeon-given ability that they were able to put an end to the slaughter of their world. stepping onto the barren land, flowers would bloom in their wake, and the world began to heal, thriving on the abundance's power channeled through ambrose like some kind of prophetic vessel. arcadia, as ambrose named their homeworld, has something like the xianzhou alliance's ambrosial arbor, from which others of their home could attain immortality. some did; others did not. artemis did, for one, making her an abomination of abundance.

artemis was very on edge for a long time, and it never quite went away. there was always something nagging at the back of her mind that this just… wasn't quite right. though, she WAS grateful that the war had been ended.

a few hundred years passed without incident, and the world was thriving better than ever. ambrose disappears one day (not without a word, however; they had spoken to artemis about this and ultimately left to explore the vastness of the universe with yaoshi as their guide, until they could "walk on their own" so to speak. until they could navigate on their own and handle themselves. essentially yaoshi was like "haha. this pathetic little human child is mine now ♡")

people do eventually start "dying" to mara, but the reactions from the people were mostly very mild.

there was never any public outcry or widespread concern. but artemis was EXTREMELY unsettled by this. she had long since ceased crying—it did no good for her, a valued soldier on the front lines, to cry—but she did when the people she loved began to die, and she couldn't help but feel the sting of betrayal. did ambrose know about this? furthermore, did yaoshi know about this and just… not tell anyone?

breaking down in such a manner triggered her mara, and though she did not die, she had her first encounter with an aeon.

it was lan. drawn in by how thoroughly similar she was to ambrose (who had an unfortunate first encounter with lan at one point and earned a very nasty scar from the aeon, barely having escaped with their immortal life), the hunt initially intended to shoot her down and move on. but i think lan formed a weird connection with artemis that day—it's known that the abundance destroyed their homeworld, so i think perhaps they may have been human before ascending. something something ummm brief flickers of humanity in what once was human, but has since been mutilated by eldritch power. yeah. anyways. that was the day that artemis became a pathstrider of the hunt. and later, she became an emanator of the hunt, though her access to the path is quite restricted… perhaps lan does not fully trust artemis. who knows? it's impossible to tell what such a powerful deity is thinking at any given moment.

it was following ambrose's encounter with lan that yaoshi granted them full emanatorship, though they had been an emanator before then, simply less powerful. by that point, i like to think that yaoshi had grown quite attached to the little one they picked up, and the simple truth is that the hunt is relentless and yaoshi might not be able to save ambrose's life in time… so what better way to solve that problem than to give them the power to protect themselves (more or less HAHAH)? 🤭🫶

as emanators, they are quite different people.

artemis sees herself as an individual who lan has shared their power with. ambrose sees themselves as but an extension of yaoshi, a vessel through which their will is exercised.

[parcy-anda-but-with-actual-posts]

Work in Progress, because I have no idea when I'll muster the stamina to finish this, but ho boy. @ v @ ; It's still quite rough, and clean-up will be a labor and a half, but if this comes out the way I want, it's going to be epic.

This is not something I'm used to, but I stole a weekend, buckled down and got it inked/flat-colored. Breaking now so I can recover and try not to crap out on the rendering stage. This is more a set of characters than of Pokémon, but yeah. @ v @ ;

Unlike before with solo images for each Fakemon, I decided since the Quailing line in my last post was domesticated by a Spider-based line of Fakemon (Distrawt & Thinteret/Auruneus), I should feature these species in one big composition, to show some of their behaviors and interactions!

This is all extremely self-indulgent stuff with no basis in Pokémon formula, but I'm having fun! The docs are still a mess, but someday I want to organize everything into a cohesive, presentable "handbook" that other people can play with or build on, if they wish.

One thing I want to get out of the way though; the cat-like head shapes are because I'm a goober and wanted to base these on Araneus gemmoides, also called "Cat-faced Spiders". C'X

For people who are interested in the WIP handbook notes, you can enjoy them under the cut! ^^

-+-+- Quailing Line -+-+-

Background/Dev Notes: (Inspirations: Peafowl, Quail & Lost Souls)

This line is a divergence from the Pidove line that took on an afterlife of its own in the Hopian Region. Historically, Unfezant was extremely popular game — this saw a resurgence in the final days of humankind as they persevered to the best of their ability. Unfortunately for Unfeazant, this often meant that parents, upon leaving their nests to forage, never returned. The unguarded but well-hidden eggs would result in stillborn Pidove, that over time, would absorb enough radiation and eventually hatch into these ghostlings.

Quailing | The Watchful Pokémon | Ghost-Flying Quailing are almost always seen loafed and shivering, as their unnatural conception leaves them paralyzed with fear and inhibits the instinct to learn to walk. With support from a good trainer however, this Pokémon has extraordinary potential. The eyes on their shoulders are only the beginning — more will come…

Spifoul | The Challenge Pokémon | Ghost-Flying Spifoul by nature, are agitated and confused, using their growing spurs as weapons against perceived threats. They’ve mastered mobility and their empowered spectral eyes increase their awareness, but they are rather aggressive as a result of persistent adolescent fears. This stage requires the most patience, but it pays off tremendously.

Bogeyvo | The Joyous Pokémon | Ghost-Flying Bogeyvo are typically encountered as domesticated by experienced Thinteret, used as sentries and to make fine thread and yarn from Distrawt silk using their spurs. Wherever you find them, Bogeyvo are equally known as formidable guardians that seek to offer others the protection and nurturing they initially hadn’t. By now, the eyes are no longer a symbol of fear, but of POWER.

-+-+- Distrawt Line -+-+-

Background/Dev Notes: (Inspirations: Cat-faced Spider, Spinning Wheels & Straw-into-Gold)

The Distrawt Line are male-dominated farmers by trade, domesticating the Quailing Line and collecting the silk of their youngest, with the intermediate-stage taking up trades, and the exceedingly rare final-stage acting as master weavers and community elders/leaders. The harvesting of their young’s byproducts does not strike them as odd or wrong in any way, and out of all the former humans, they have the most estranged perspective, having taken on arachnid thought patterns and instincts. As humans, they were the survivors, the ones prepared to continue well after the world had ended, and who earned all the Champion’s respect…

Distrawt | The Rough Silk Pokémon | Bug-Grass Tiny spider Pokémon that have evolved incessantly-produced straw-like silk. If not harvested regularly, the spinnerets on their backs will become painfully clogged, and the piled up silk will render them immobilized — helpless, they will cry loudly until the pain and stress are dealt with.

Thinteret | The Working Pokémon | Bug-Grass These eusocial arachnids spend much of their time honing their craft, practicing refinement with and of their own silk and harvesting Distrawts’, producing threads to be processed by the Bogeyvo they’ve domesticated. The most seasoned of the weavers form leadership councils of the colony, and alone are entrusted with Moonstone, should the colony possess any…

Auruneus | The Gold-Weaver Pokémon | Bug-Steel By the power of the Moonstone, leading Thinteret can take this Veiled form, though typically only to protect the colony in a crisis, as this stage is the immutable and unnatural human element preserved within the bygone peoples, and generally kept hidden from the world. Using the threads woven by their dorsal spinning wheels, they wield fine, slicing golden wires to defend the community, and provide textile support in times of dire need.

Commenting on this "textile support in times of dire need" bit: This is a Pokémon para-regional setting, and with that comes certain expectations for action and higher-stakes... and this region can certainly be scary and high-stakes... but it is also cottagecore-inspired, and there MUST and WILL be cozy elements. CX

[maximumcatfeels]

Hello! I was wondering if ya have any surveyshipping headcanons or headcanons in general about Laventon or Cyllene?

I was curious to heard some of them if ya don’t mind!^^

I doooooooooo!!!

Some headcanons!

Cyllene’s dad and mom were farmers. She had a few siblings but due to bandits, illness, and pokemon attacks, she’s the only one left. She takes after her father in many ways (and I think her father would have looked almost exactly like Cyrus).

Her father had siblings that lived elsewhere in Hoenn but Cyllene didn’t see them much.

So by the time that she had decided to go to Hisui, she hadn’t talked to any extended family in years, and her immediate family had all died from various causes.

(Her extended family would stay in Hoenn for generations and eventually produce Steven Stone.)

All of the repeated tragedies in her life made her kind of cold on the outside, but she does care deeply about both people and pokemon under her care/protection. It is hard for her to show it and besides, it is kind of useful for when she has to be strict.

Professor Laventon’s grandparents on his mothers side came to Galar over from Poke-India as merchants. His mother was born in Galar but her siblings were born in poke-India. His father’s side had been native Galarians for generations.

He still has and respects aspects of the culture from poke-India, but he definitely thinks of himself as Galarian.

He also lost some family from illness and pokemon attacks, but most of his immediate family is still alive and doing well. He has several brothers and sisters!

(One brother’s line led to Chairman Rose and Peony. While one of the sisters led to Champion Leon and Hop.)

Laventon will adopt almost anyone that has no family on sight. (It usually ends up being kids/teenagers but he’s also been known to unofficially adopt adults and elders too. Although not as blatantly. It’s more of a he-frequently-asks-about-them-and-makes-sure-someone-checks-on-them sort of thing.

For surveyshipping:

Neither of them are great cooks. They both can do simple meals but nothing fancy. Cyllene makes a lot of money though, and so they eat out a lot.

Cyllene leads in bed most of the time, but Laventon can step up and take charge when he wants to or when she needs him to. He happy with the arrangement, but she worries that others will make fun of him over it. (He doesn’t care what they think usually, he loves his smol wife that could kill him easily both when she’s in charge and when he’s gently taking her apart).

Laventon and Cyllene do officially adopt Akari/Rei (whichever the Protagonist isn’t) once the Protagonist goes home (yes I HC that the protagonist does eventually get to go home). It’s an odd little family by most people’s definitions, but everyone is happy.

Cyllene’s Abra will obey orders from both her and the Professor, but likes to mess with the Professor. (Mostly it guilts him into feeding it extra berries/candies, but sometimes it’ll pull a prank on him, like teleporting his hat away when it’s annoyed with him) but mostly Abra is just their spoiled rotten fur baby. (Once they have a baby, the Abra evolves into a Kadabra and helps with child care. It still forgets that it’s not small anymore and will try to cuddle like it’s still an Abra)

They love each other so much! And while Cyllene never truly learns to like bug types (Wurmples in particular) the Professor does slowly work with her to make her more at ease in their presence. (She loves that he never gave up on her. And he loves that she trusted him enough to let him help her.)

[ohwynne]

A quick guide about Protherians & deals with demons.

Head's up! This post talks about human and animal sacrifice, and though I won't get into minute detail, it will still be present throughout as its at the core of Protherian belief.

TLDR: Welsh farmer and patriarch Corwyn Prothero made a deal with a greater demon, some three centuries ago. In return for reverence, sacrifice and devotion, he and his ilk would receive good crops, good fortune, privacy and stability. Ever since, traditions and rituals have sprung up to make the downright simple truth more digestible: from moon-cycle based sacrifices to equinox-celebrations. Early in the 20th century, the then-patriarch attempted to relocate his group to the US in an attempt to shake their demon and never ending debt. It, naturally, didn't work and did disgruntle said demon quite a fair bit. Ever since seeing its wrath, the commune has lived in greater fear of it.

Click HERE for a visualisation.

The Protherians (named after their once-founder, whose painted image still hangs in mess hall) can currently be found in the area of Moosehead lake, where a large estate is the home of a small, self sufficient community. Contact with the outside world is limited and extended to a fair few, who do business with nearby towns.

Over the centuries, Protherian scripture has become the base of the cult's beliefs. There are biblical themes and stories there, though they do not believe in God. Stories like that of Abraham and Isaac, as well as Noah, however, are often referenced. The texts are seen as absolute truth. When speaking of the demon with whom Corwyn Prothero made a deal all those centuries ago, they prefer to use the word gythraul or simply It. Most people have not seen it (and those who claim to have might be lying), though there are drawings. Yes, the demon has goat legs. Yes, It might have chosen to appear that way to scare the bejesus out of previously god-fearing people.

There is a soft hierarchy within the cult, with elders having the highest position. The patriarch (often a direct descendant of Prothero) stands at the top of society. In two instances, this role has been filled by a woman — but the commune is quite a patriarchal mini-society. Mentors are highly revered. Most other members are just that, and tend mostly to the farming, livestock and other tasks that keep society turning. There are commune-wide referendums, though they are not always heeded by those in charge. Keeping their followers in check with fear is an effective method, though there are other means as well. Disobedience and cynicism are not met with kindness. Desertion means being disowned. Generally speaking, these measures are not taken often due to a lack of need.

A lot of the fabricated beliefs are based in nature. With their lives still so tied to the change of the seasons as well as the whims of the weather, perhaps this is only logical. They celebrate each equinox with large feasts, bonfires and dance. While Protherians are superstitious in nature, they don't subscribe to most Anglo-Saxon superstitions and have their own ways. A bone in your pocket, an innocent creature bled out, a chicken heart on your doorstep, a smear of blood on each cheek. To be connected with death is to respect life. They are very respectful of all living things, but also deeply revere the cycle of life and death. It's why sacrifice is such a fundamental and core part of their community.

Animal sacrifice is deeply normalised and is part of most celebrations and rituals. In the centre of the estate stands an altar, where fruits, flowers and at times, dead animals are placed to appease gythraul. Every blue moon, the best sheep of the flock is bled out — its coat dotted with braided flowers and scented with infused oils. Every fourth blue moon, it is a young adolescent in stead. This knowledge is shared with the intended sacrifice after the end of a previous cycle and the rest of their life is lived in preparation of the best thing they could possibly do for their community. Human sacrifices are sanctified when alive as well as dead, given the best portions and nicest room. The person receives lamb-rib necklaces, rabbit phalanges to keep under their pillow and dried flowers to hang in their room. To have someone among you destined for death is in and of itself something honourable and holy. It is said the person's destiny is solidified due to their date of birth. The one born closest to the latest human sacrifice shall be destined to fulfil that role one day. Such was the case for Wynne. (This is a lie. At the end of the day, there's nothing special about Wynne. It exists make it so that the elders and patriarch can't be blamed for choosing someone to die: leaving it up to fate is more easy to accept, for most.)

Modernity is largely rejected, though there is electricity and radio. There even is a router somewhere on the estate, as a few mobile phones — but this is not at all advertised and limited to elders alone. Clothes are mostly handmade and, thus, rather traditional. Plaids, cotton, wool. Simplicity. They aren't necessarily traditional in all other ways, and do have a tendency towards 'hedonism'. Corwyn Prothero rejected Christianity, after all, and his community soon started to live in what they had once considered sin. Children are homeschooled and do learn a fair bit of the outside-world curriculum, though are always taught to take it with a grain of salt. Mentors teach them to look down on modern society and their brutish, self centred ways. They have lost their way.

The threat of gythraul is very real, no matter how Wynne doubts it at times. When the community moved across-seas in an attempt to shake It, they met its wrath as it claimed young souls, leaving the commune child-less in 1934. Wynne fears their abandonment has caused another event of sorts, though they cannot bring themself to do the research needed to find out. Any thought of what they might have set in motion leaves them frozen and shut off — so it might be a while until they find out. Allow me, then, to lift the veil. The birth order makes no difference. Wynne was only ever special because they were told as much, because they were adorned with flower-bone wreaths. All that gythraul requires is a young life ended before its time. When the elders found Wynne's bedroom empty and their coffers depleted, they held their head in their hands for a moment. That night, it was Wynne's brother Iwan they laid on the altar in stead.

[goodfish-bowl]

It had been your dream, those many centuries ago, to open an orphanage to take care of the small ones without anyone else. You knew personally what it was like to be a kid growing up in the streets. By the gods, it still left it’s mark on you now. But after the good fight was done, done with the world-ending fights anyways, you found that your tale had become little more than a song, a legend, nothing more than a fairy tale, and your history faded into the shadows.

This was a fine outcome. Preferably, even. No one came bothering you at every little tragedy like they used to. It was peaceful. And then that old dream of yours came to fruition.

It had started in an old, abandon church to gods only you knew the name of, which you fixed up as a show of faith. It was not like you had anything better to do. Then there was that first group of kids, who rushed inside to hide from the coming storm. They fled from you the first time, but were lured back in by their empty stomachs and free food. You offered to let them stay, and eventually, they accepted. There were more children who came after that. After some time, children were brought to him to be raised, rather than let them be subject to the streets at all. Infants in baskets had found their way to his doorstep every couple of moons.

You started a garden out in the yard, and taught the children how to farm. It was a good skill to know, after all. You had some old seeds gathered up, and they did just as well as they did in the centuries past. People bought your crops, first out of pity, then out of desire. There wasn’t crops like this grown anymore, and few knew how to prepare them the right way. The novelty helped with the sales, and it helped to have the income on hand. The kids deserved nice things every now and again.

Some of the rougher boys had found your old sword and armor at one point, so rather than let them mess around with it and injure themselves, you taught the children who were willing how to fight. You taught indiscriminately between the boys and the girls. You knew better than to underestimate any warrior. Just like the crops, this style too, was lost to time, resurrected with the generation you raised. Fighting too, was a good skill to know.

Most of the children grew up and left, becoming apprentices, farmers, warriors, squires, and scholars. A few returned to visit, every now and again, coming with gifts and well-wishes, and a few stayed to help. But there were always more children to be taken care of, so your home was never empty.

The children knew you were old and unchanged by the passage of time. The church was remote enough that none of the villages questioned your existence, though you heard the children spreading rumors that you were the god of the church, sent to take care of them. You didn’t mind, as long as it stayed within the walls. It was better than that old legend of you being a god of war and destruction, after all. The god of lost children didn’t sound nearly as awful.

One day, the elder children who went to the market to sell crops, came back with rumors of slavers in the area. You warned all of the children at dinner about this threat, and warned them to never travel alone, and have at least one fighter among them, or yourself, should they need to travel farther than eyesight from the church.

This warning meant nothing when the slavers crashed into the church in the middle of the night, snatching your children from their beds. They must’ve thought a church so far from town, full of children and their caretakers would be an easy target. You heard the windows shatter, the shouts of the slavers, and the screams of your children in the middle of the night. Over two centuries of battle made you a light sleeper.

You were grateful at that moment that you had taught some of the children how to fight, because it not only kept your own skills and gear sharp, but bought you just enough time to throw on your armor and snatch your sword.

Unlike raising children, battle was easy and relatively straightforward when confronted with an unprepared enemy. You went outside, freed their horses and broke their carriages first, preventing escape, freed the captured, then picked each slaver off, one by one. Life was sacred, but so terribly fragile. The children had taught you that. You hated to do this in view of them, but there were bodies already on the ground and blood on their blades and knuckles by the time you emerged, so it was already too late for that.

By dawn, the slavers were decimated, those who ran, or attempted to hold the children hostage cut down with fury by either your hands or the children’s. The slaves you had freed attacked with the ferocity of a wild animal, and you let them. You gathered the bodies and counted, covered in the blood of more than two dozen men. None of your children were among them, thankfully. These were slavers, not bandits. It wouldn’t be beneficial to kill your merchandise. It would’ve been worse if they’d been bandits. You would’ve given them a much more painful death.

You sent the children inside to rest, tend to the wounded, and clean up. You sent the freed slaves with them. They would get to choose whether they wished to stay or not. You would offer them a ride to the nearest town after you finished.

You were thankful it was already late autumn, and most of the crops for the year had already been harvested and the ground still soft from it. You grabbed a shovel from the shed and got to work, and dug neat graves, spaced out and even in the field. You stripped each corpse of its things except for their clothes, then buried them. This was holy ground, so they shouldn’t revive as undead, but you still knew better than to leave such things behind. You would’ve burned them otherwise. But the dead still had no use for coin, armor, and weapons. You decided everything except for the coin would be melted down and turned into something else. Your current set of farm tools were almost a century old by this point. You needed some new ones.

It was past noon before you finished, and nearly dinner time by the time you had the soil down firmly, finished lines of unmarked graves. It was more of an honor than they deserved, but at least the crops would grow well come spring.

An immortal warrior with centuries of combat experience settles down to run an orphanage. Slave traders kidnap some of the children…big mistake.

[mspattypizazz]

The Promise 

Aaravos x Era (S/i)

[Cool author’s note: I’m feeling better and I just found Aaravos’ birthday was yesterday so I made a little writing of him and my Dragon Prince self insert in their teenage years]

     “Almost every creature is born connected to a primal source. To them, it’s a home away from home. When all is lost they will have the element of their birth to show them the way. It’s a part of one’s identity that can’t be erased. At least that’s what they say.”

     It’s a warm day today. The grass is perfect to sit on and look down at the world beyond the elevated cliff. Perhaps if she squinted she could make out the blurred out specks of humans beyond the horizon, maybe there’s a couple elves among them. 

     The fall season marks the end of harvests. Farmers and merchants rush to sell the last of their goods before the cold comes and withers it away. As the breeze begins to roll in and cloudy days become more common, a day where a coat isn’t needed is a rarity that will disappear with the liveliness of summer.

     She looks up from the blades of grass she had been idly picking from the earth. “But…?” 

     With someone as curious as Aaravos there were always “ifs”, “ands”, or “buts”. Of course there was always a reason for something but not everyone felt the need to seek it out. All that matters is that it is, not why it is. In their youth he was always reprimanded for it. He was a being of divinity and grace, when will he start acting like it? 

     “But there has to be more to it than that.” Aaravos spreads his arms out, head tilting back with his eyes closed as the wind lightly ruffles his hair. “Calling myself  a being born from one source is too restricting for me! This whole world feels like home!” 

     Maybe Era wants to scoff but a small smile tugs at her lips instead. He wasn’t the first to have this philosophy. Many others have tried to learn of the magic beyond their own primal source. Even some foolish humans have tried. But a connection to a source that isn’t your own was not an easy thing to master. You have to forget about the element you were born from and leave yourself open to the possibility of something new, to momentarily disregard a part of yourself to welcome in another one.

     But she sees his arms outstretched like a bird ready to take flight and she knows that if anyone can do it, it would be Aaravos. Even in their youth the art of spell casting had always came easy to him. Although his magical potential did not make him favorable in the eyes of their elders. Curiosity was an admirable trait until someone pressed too much. 

     “Why can’t you be more like Era?” Is a phrase they’ve heard countless times in their childhood. And it wasn’t like she was any better than him, she just knew how to clean up her messes as if she never did anything bad in the first place. 

     “So you’re go on some big quest like in the stories?” Era gets up from her place on the grass, the green below her flattened out where she once was as she approaches him. 

     Aaravos opens his eyes, head tilting slightly just enough for them to share a gaze. “That I will. I’m going to learn from the greatest mages and archdragons of every primal source.” 

     Could he look anymore free than he does now? Every bright speckle upon his skin never seems to flicker, there’s a life in his eyes that she’s sure will never fade. His voice has gotten deeper as they’ve grown older and yet it’s still light and airy. 

     Every day she thanks fate that their stars aligned around a similar time. What would the world be without a star as bright as him in it? Perhaps it would drift into an unsinkable darkness. Maybe there would be havoc. 

     “And what are you going to do when you come back from your epic journey?” 

     If he went and she stayed behind, would the distance really make their bond grow stronger? It’s a human philosophy she’s heard once. If he did go on such a quest she would wait. She would plant herself to this spot and carve a nice little home inside the trunk of the thick tree close by. 

     Maybe it really would be like in the stories where when she thinks he isn’t coming back he suddenly comes up the hill, grown from a life changing experience.  She would be wearing one of those pretty flowing dresses with the fabric dancing around her legs in the gentle breeze. She would drop whatever she was holding to run towards him and he would have his arms wide open. 

     Aaravos’ hand grabbing her own takes Era out of her daydream. “When I come back on my epic journey…” Why does the sun cast down on him so prettily? “I’m going to marry you.” 

     Have softer words ever been spoken?

[the-quicksilver-diary]

The Pumpkin Patch

[Slipped between the pages is a paper flier, discolored with time and fraying at the edges. Stylized illustrations of grinning pumpkins, birds holding ribbon, and costumed children decorate the piece. Small splotches of an unknown dark substance cover parts of the aged paper. It reads:

"Join us #or our annual pumpkin patch! Octob#r 1st-29th, 10am-6pm We h#ve:

Corn Maze

Hay Rides (comes with one free pumpkin of your #elec#ion)

The Bird

Cider Pressing

Apple Bobbing

Corn Pit

Farm Animals

…and much more! Located at ###### ## ##### ####, ########## ## #####"]

Autumn is my favorite time of year, you see. The air is crisp and cold enough to sting your nose, the trees light themselves ablaze with color before becoming barren. It's the year's final breath before it gets too cold to go outside, and a nice excuse to indulge. As per my long-standing tradition, I went to the local pumpkin patch a few weeks ago. I wanted to take my girlfriend, but she was unable to accompany me on account of falling ill. There was the usual fare, of course: overly-ambitious teenagers getting lost in the corn maze, people milling about holding hot cider, and half-drunk farmers driving families out to the pumpkin fields.

My first point of business was to check out the animals brought in from some of the nearby farms. It's always a treat to see this year's pigs and goats, and I enjoy feeding them. There was a child there, must have been about three years old, who seemed terrified of the goats. Their eyes were at roughly the same level, and the little girl was holding a tiny handful of feed pellets. She kept turning away from the goat and running back to wrap herself around her mother's legs. The goat kept its rectangular eyes fixated on the blubbering child, sniffing around and bleating in expectation.

I wanted to get a pumpkin for me and Shirley to carve, so I went out to the tractors to see about getting a hay ride there. When I got there, I saw a tractor loaded with trailers and hay bale seats. A few crows sat themselves down on the hay bales. The tractor itself was a beast of a machine, and I could still hear the cracks of the hot engine metal settling in the cold air. Although there was a tractor, I was quick to find that there was nobody around to operate the thing. I spent a good while snooping around to find a driver, but gave up after fifteen minutes. So I decided to walk the mile out to the field myself - it's no longer than my walk to work, after all.

The trail out to the pumpkin field was rough and uneven, deep treads dug into the mangled earth. I saw a few more crows standing around together, doing nothing in particular. Every once in a while I would trip over some bit of exposed root that caught my shoe, despite the lack of trees in this part of the farm. The sky hung heavy with clouds, casting the yellow field of straw in a grey malaise. The wind moaned slightly, and the air grew noticeably colder. All at once, a collection of caws echoed through the air and a storm of black feathers kicked up from the field. A murder took to the sky with a cacophony. I saw, then, a few other walkers as I closed in on the pumpkin field. A group of three men, close together, each carrying a heavy pumpkin in his arms. One of the men had a noticeable limp, but all three of them still stayed close together. I waved to them to get their attention, but they made no acknowledgement. Whether the man with the limp had summoned a great deal of speed in compensation for his condition or his compatriots were accommodating him was, I admit, something I gave slightly too much speculation. The pumpkins on the ground were of all sorts, ages, and conditions, and all were caked in dried up mud. Many of the elder gourds were caved in and mushy, while smaller specimens dotted the landscape.

More and more, the walkers grew in number. All of them held pumpkins, some of them limped, none of them spoke. All of them in the wordless crowd shuffled along the tangled mess of the pumpkin patch. When one of them tripped on a pumpkin root, nobody stopped to help them. The roots coiled around their arms and legs, pulling them down, down into the dirt.

Large wooden crosses began to appear as I followed these people to their unseen destination. The crosses were covered in thick pumpkin roots and vines that tied together the wood. These crosses held aloft lumpy scarecrows, stuffed with straw that poked out of the makeshift stitches. Upon closer inspection, it became clear to me that these scarecrows were not made of burlap, but skin and bone. These effigies, radiating from a central point in the distance, were human. Or, humans, rather. Where parts were stitched together, straw poked out of the botched sutures. One of the scarecrows had two left hands. I became sick to myself. But even still, my curiosity remained. I needed to see to where these people all walked. And then I saw it.

A colossal white crane sat in an intricately folded position, about the size of the tractor I saw earlier in the day. It had a few small crow-attendants by its side, making occasional squawks and pruning their lord's feathers. Around the bird were six scarecrows arranged in a circle, each with a heavy iron chain around their bloated neck that bolted to an iron collar fitted around that of the crane. The massive bird had atop its head a crimson crown that constantly dripped something thick. A walker approached the bird, holding his pumpkin. The supplicant held his pumpkin high above his head, and the bird tilted and jerked its head forward with great swiftness such that its golden eye was inches from the pumpkin. It looked the pumpkin over, moved its head back, then shot its beak forward with the great strength of its folded neck muscles and devoured the supplicant whole. The pumpkin fell to the ground and broke apart into stringy chunks.

Suffice to say, I did not get a pumpkin for Shirley that day. I hope she's feeling better; I haven't heard from her in a while.