#and for once she has her lil tusks! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dastardlydandelion · 3 years ago

Note

So...what kind of horror movie would you write featuring the Hargrove/ Mayfield family? (That you haven't written already lol)

oh boy, u may regret asking me this bc i am indecisive af and i can’t pick just one!

two that i'm actually writing are max as (g is for) ghostface killer in the abcs of neil’s death and also the max + tory nichols werewolf movie fic outlined here. also some more misc gorror junk bc i’m a demon and esp horny for susan wearing blood splatter. but more ideas commence below:

horror movie #1: another creature feature! awhile back @lucdarling sent me an ask abt max + billy hiding smth from susan and her like, playing along, pretending she doesn't know, and one of the scenarios that popped in my head was them keeping a baby bat as a pet. max finds it and she’s only like six or seven, and she thinks it’s going to turn into a vampire. so here is that scenario except horror edition: baby bat is actually a vampire type creature. not rly a vampire like, what’s prolly popping into ur head, like an undead human like dracula or smth, but like a bat monster that sucks blood.

billy being a lil older doesn’t actually think the bat is going to turn into a vampire. he makes fun of max for believing this, but he helps her take care of it anyway bc he thinks it’s cool. susan, like in the non-horror version, knows abt the bat but plays dumb bc she’s feeling a lot of guilt abt max’s difficulty adjusting to the blended fam (as of rn tho, neil has yet to reveal his abusive nature. the red flags are not yet red, more of a brownish maroon, and he is on his best behavior almost all the time, showering susan + max with affection and keeping the swears out of his mouth when he scolds billy in front of them) and knows the lil furry baby makes her happy. she tacitly cleans up after the bat whenever the kids miss a spot (bats poop a lot, dude) and distracts neil, deterring him from discovering it whenever he gets close.

baby bat gets rly big rly fast. and the older it gets, the more it starts to look monstrous. it still has bat features but it’s just like, different. its fangs grow suspiciously long, its hooks grow suspiciously long. its feet are elongated. a dorsal ridge emerges from its spine, spikes at first just flesh but soft fur rather like peach fuzz eventually sprouting. billy catches on that smth is strange abt this animal when it's as long as his forearm after two wks and still growing. he nearly shits a brick when the bat is clinging to his sweater one day and he steps in front of a mirror and only his reflection looks back at him— no bat.

max laughs at him all like, “stupid brother, ofc there’s no reflection. nosferatu is a vampire, vampires don’t have reflections.” 😂

susan catches a glimpse of the thing when nosferatu crawls out of the home max built it in her closet the same wk billy realizes it doesn’t have a reflection, and also almost shits a brick. she doesn’t know what it is, but it’s NOT a fucking bat. not a normal one, anyway! cue a comedy scene where she’s chasing it around the house with a butterfly net and it’s always one flap *ba dum tss* ahead of her, flying just out of reach. she suddenly regrets not getting rid of it sooner, scolding herself for ever allowing her daughter to keep a wild animal.

she can’t catch it. max comes home, susan tells her she needs to get rid of it. max cries, flips her the bird, refuses. billy tho…billy has mixed feelings. he loves nosferatu but he’s worried it’s going to get dangerous. he loves his dad and his dad is dangerous too. he’s stressed out enough, always on edge, knowing that one way or the other, neil is going to hurt him again. he’s already waiting for his dad to hurt him, he doesn’t need the added stress of waiting for nosferatu to hurt him too. and while max is 100% nosferatu’s favorite, it likes billy too. billy’s been handling it since it could fit in the palm of his hand, it trusts him much more than it trusts susan and doesn’t know any different when billy takes it out of the closet when max isn’t around.

billy frees nosferatu at an abandoned farm. there are always bats flying out of the old silo adjacent to the dilapidated barn. while he knows nosferatu isn’t a *normal* bat, it’s still bat like enough that he thinks it might make friends and be happy here…

yeah, that doesn’t stick. before long, nosferatu is feasting on that colony. leeches the blood out of a couple bats nightly. the number of bats increases with nosferatu’s size. meanwhile, max mourns her missing friend. she’s sullen af and won’t speak to susan at all. she thinks susan is the one who got rid of nosferatu. billy never fesses up and susan doesn’t contradict max’s assumption bc she wants the step-siblings to get along.

neil, meanwhile, is getting more comfortable. those maroon flags are slowly but surely brightening to scarlet. he starts sabotaging susan’s plans with her friends, trying to keep her around the house more and more, quietly but steadily eroding her relationships with other people. he’s getting more visibly aggressive when he disciplines billy. he curses him out with a virulent venom that dunks susan’s stomach in ice water and scares max so badly, she runs to susan and hides behind her even though she’s still so mad that susan got rid of her beloved baby vampire.

nosferatu’s appetite surpasses what the bat colony can offer. it’s like the size of a ten yr old human child now. fucker’s big. it doesn’t just have fangs on top, but tusks on bottom. it can’t go out in the sunlight anymore, the sun sears its flesh. it misses max a lot and before, it wasn’t strong enough to fly back to her house. but now it is. it’s extremely strong, actually.

so bc it's hungry, nosferatu grabs a snack along the way. some nameless rando, it swoops down and sucks dry. nourished and much happier, nosferatu makes its way back home. patiently waits outside of max’s bedroom in the moonlight, tapping its hook against the window until she wakes up. initially max is a lil startled— nosferatu looks so different, there’s a beat before she recognizes it— him?? yk, ig it’s male, the og nosferatu was a guy. sure, why not, nosferatu is a boy now.

once she realizes who it is, she is so! happy! max opens the window and embraces her friend. she isn’t freaked out by the blood on its fangs. she’s always known nosferatu is a vampire, albeit, she was thinking he’d look more like dracula than this bat-monster-thingy.

nosferatu moves back into max’s closet. it hangs upside-down from her rod by its weird, elongated feet. we get more shots of nosferatu sucking rando ppl dry at night, tho he remains gentle with max. when max drags billy in to show her he came back, nosferatu is less friendly with him. he’s not aggressive with billy, but he is standoffish. nosferatu’s thought process is somewhere between human and animal. he doesn’t quite cognitively understand that billy took him to the farm with the intent of getting rid of him, but he does understand that the last time he clung to billy, billy left him alone and never came back. max puts two and two together, and realizes it was billy who “stole” her friend. she yells at him a lot, he yells back, she then ices him out.

billy acts out bc he’s upset. runs away, thinks he’s going to find his mom…the cops find him first and call neil. neil is rly embarrassed and pissed abt the whole thing. he breaks down and beats billy in front of the mayfields for the first time. nosferatu smells the blood and it’s time for the main event! we love dead!neil, yes, we do.

nosferatu flies out the closet and right into the living room where billy’s bleeding and teary but biting his lip so they don’t actually fall. susan’s covering max’s eyes but so shocked and tbh, FRIGHTENED, she doesn’t move a muscle beyond that. neil’s got the belt raised, preparing to bring it down again, and nosferatu smashes right into him. neil stumbles, turns back to see this freaky monster looking thing. proceeds to whip the belt at nosferatu. tries to fight him off with the belt and it doesn’t accomplish much beyond pissing him off more— nosferatu, like most classic vampire types, has a healing factor!

max rips her mom’s hands off her face in time to see her pet sink its fangs into her stepdad’s throat. nosferatu sucks neil dry. billy’s a little dazed, not quite frightened. susan is just dead ass frozen, too scared to scream, even. nosferatu crawls over to billy and nudges at him, making sure he’s in once piece and forgiving him in the same go. max darts over and that snaps susan out of her stupor, but she isn’t as fast as our blood-sucking bat monster.

nosferatu stretches his wings out and with a truly impressive wingspan, hugs both of the kids. <3

horror movie #2: a haunting! this one opens with a bang. it’s a tragic horror, beware. we’re in hawkins post s3. billy died at starcourt mall. neil’s obvi had a longstanding abusive mindset and abusive behavior, but he rly takes his grief out on susan and max. mostly susan. she does her best to protect max however she can, whether that means shielding her w her body, sending her out of the house, getting neil’s goat to inspire his ire in max’s place, etc. but sue simply isn’t around all the time and when she isn’t, but max is, well. yk.

one day neil comes home early (bc he lost his job for a violent outburst, tbh) and discovers susan packing a suitcase.

sue fights hard. she rly does. but neil is bigger, heavier, crueler, and to boot, he caught her completely unawares. he kills her. and no, no it’s not some accidental thing where neil makes one bad move rage-blind. he strangles her with his belt. she’s clawing at his arms and making these horrible choked, trapped animal noises. thrashes and twists her body with everything she has trying to get him off but he’s so strong, his grip is unrelenting, and she's growing weaker, lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. strangulation can induce incontinence and when susan blacks out, her piss streams to the hardwood— neil hears that as much as he felt the clawing and heard the noises, even now he could stop, but he doesn’t. he just. doesn’t think his wife has the right to leave him, esp not after his son just did.

neil burns the body and the suitcase in the woods while max is at school. max has been spending as much time as she can (and often with sue’s prompting) outside of the house, so it actually takes her about two days to realize her mother isn’t around. neil tells a pretty convincing story about how susan abandoned them, voice saturated with apology and sorrow. he takes her out for a fancy dinner and promises he’s going to be a better father-- that being a better father is the least he can do now that her mother abandoned her and they are alone in their grief.

max doesn’t know what to think. she’s been preoccupied with her own grief and pain. she finds it hard to believe her mother would just leave her to neil’s wrath. she has a lot of hangups with susan and anger toward her for marrying neil and not getting them out sooner, but she’s also old enough to realize there would be risks involved with that. it’s hard to reconcile the memory of her mother just last wk pinning max to the wall to protect her from neil’s blows with her own bod just abruptly taking off without a word in the middle of the night. but hey, maybe that’s why susan left. maybe she got sick of protecting her, maybe the pain got to be too much and she turned tail.

but also…it’s early october now, abt three months after billy’s death but still fairly warm outside. yet neil is wearing long sleeves. neil never used to button his collared shirts all the way up, and yet. every collar is buttoned. also, mom’s car is still here. why would mom leave without her car?

that ceramic pelican she loved so much is still here too, on the mantle in the living room. it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing she would leave behind, she's had it since max was a baby.

max almost wants to believe neil because she’d rather her mother abandoned her than be dead somewhere, rotting in a storage locker or a hole in the ground. under the earth with the worms, just like billy. max has the worst feeling low in the pit of her gut. she thinks she knows the truth. she thinks abt going to hopper and hesitates bc she’s not sure she could handle it if he actually found smth. or what would happen to her if he did, where she would be sent, who she would end up with.

this movie would be more on the ambiguous end of things. an arthouse horror, if u will.

the days turn into wks and neil is crawling in his skin. the viewer isn’t sure if the shadows he’s seeing, always, always susan-shaped shadows, are of a ghostly nature or if he’s just hallucinating out of guilt. but the signs gradually point to the former— that smth paranormal is indeed going on. bc those scratches and bite marks susan left in his skin?

they do not heal. they do not get infected. they do not become necrotic. but they do not heal, either. days turn into wks and the wounds still look fresh, like she just left them moments ago. neil can’t wear light colors anymore because his wounds weep red into the fabric. he isn’t just seeing susan’s shadows either, he’s smelling her.

he washes his sheets and pillowcases a dozen times and the scent of her shampoo, her lotion, it’s like it’s woven into the fibers. he walks into the hallway and chokes on the aroma of susan’s perfume. he wonders if max is screwing with him, if max figured it out and she’s trying to torture him into a confession. one day he stomps off to max's bedroom, furious, adamant on confronting her. he grabs her doorknob, prepared to yank it open and then lets out a yelp, jerking his hand back with a sudden sharp pain.

it feels like a bee sting (which would be esp bad for this fucker in anything i write, bc i headcanon him as being allergic). but there’s no stinger. no injury. nothing. neil is freaked out enough that he backs down.

max, on the other hand, is getting gentler signs. when she turns the radio dial in the camaro, it’s somehow always her mom’s favorite songs that come thru the speakers. when she goes to pull clothes out of her drawers in the morning, she discovers that the things she’d just shoved inside in wrinkled balls are perfectly folded, neat as a pin, exactly like how susan always folded. susan was always fond of cardinals and suddenly max is seeing cardinals, pretty red cardinals, in just abt erry tree and shrub.

neil wakes up one night to his wife’s voice whispering “boo” right in his ear. he throws the covers off and discovers ashes in the bed. he doesn’t smell susan’s shampoo or lotion anymore, he smells the kerosine he’d poured all over her body.

his wounds still won’t heal. whenever he looks in the mirror, he catches a glimpse of susan walking past behind him, peering at him from her peripheral. he whips around, heart hammering, but there’s never any tangible person there.

max is almost certain her mother is dead at this point. neil’s been so bizarrely nice to her lately. she never believed in ghosts but her experiences with the upside-down broadened her perception of reality. she doesn’t know how else to explain the songs, the cardinals, the folded clothes. the way that these days, whenever she does feel fear toward neil, it just fades away. her fear melts like popsicles in the sun, immediately replaced by the sensation of a warm, maternal hug, as if arms she can’t see are trying to reassure her she truly doesn’t need to be afraid of him anymore.

in fact, max feels so unafraid of neil and brave, that one night she calls him out on it. he’s grizzled and unshaven in his recliner, beer in hand. she steps in front of the television he’s vacantly fixated on and folds her arms across her chest.

“you killed my mom, didn’t you?”

quick as a flash, neil leaps to his feet. he brings his arm back like he’s going to strike her and susan’s ceramic pelican on the mantle explodes into shards. the lights flicker, the television program cuts to snow with a static roar. every other knickknack on the mantle rattles and framed photos tumble off the wall.

neil very wisely lowers his hand. he slumps, boneless. he doesn’t say a word. max sees the answer in his eyes. it’s the dead of night and she snatches the camaro keys off the hook, marching out of the house, slamming the door behind her. it’s the dead of night and she doesn’t care. she’s going to blow past every stop sign and pound on the chief’s door until he opens up. and fuck, i just realized if this is post s3 he’s supposed to be in russia. shit. i don’t watch this show, but i know abt russia bc i DID watch the clips of that demogorgon that i rly hope isn’t stuck in captivity!! okay, but let’s pretend that didn’t happen?

it’s an au?? i mean, errything i write is always technically an au anyway, bc when i write stuff susan has an actual personality and billy isn’t *completely* abhorrent. okay, so it’s an au and mr. hopper didn’t blow up and un-blow up in russia. he’s still here. so max drives to his house.

she pounds on the door so hard this guy snaps outta bed, thinking someone’s trying to bust it down. she tells him neil confessed to killing her mom. it isn’t true, exactly, but he didn’t have to. so it’s a helluva grim drive back to cherry lane, this time in the cop car.

but when they go inside, chief prepared to arrest neil, no need. neil’s hanging from the belt he strangled susan with, shirtless for the first time since that night, erry seemingly fresh furrow and bite mark on full display. below his dangling feet is a map, the area he burned susan’s corpse in circled in red marker. did he kill himself or did the ghost do it?

up to u, we soundlessly cut to credits without a concrete answer to that question.

horror movie #3: crossover special! stranger things meets the chilling adventures of sabrina. sequel to that fic i wrote where susan makes out with lilith, queen of hell, and lilith kills neil for her. sue officially joins the church of lilith. bc in this ‘verse the church of lilith actually happens after caos s2 instead of the nonsense that was s3 and the inconceivably godawful migraine-inducing shit-fest that was s4.

killing neil was lilith’s only freebee. susan isn’t a witch, she’s a mortal, so in order to reap the other rewards of worshipping the one and only mother of demons, she has to fornicate with the witches and participate in the sacrifices!!!

this is, uh, well. it’s p much a porno, dude, sorry. 😅

this is just an excuse for susan to have sex with lilith, zelda, marie, hilda, big witch orgies + susan. witches bathing in the blood of their sacrifices, susan so nervous and timid but unable to deny her desire. the witch’s dressing her in their gothic garb.

how does the rest of the fam get it on this?

max joins the church too. she has more age-appropriate conduct with sabrina and the weird sisters, and what have you. just smooches and over-the-clothes groping, and whatnot, even tho the weird sisters, at least, would be interested in going further if given the opportunity.

billy dies in starcourt again, so he gets revived in the cain pit! hilda is the one who goes to him after bc she’s been in the cain pit many a time (i am still BIG side-eyeing zelda for repeatedly murdering her sister since childhood). hilda understands how jarring it can be to come back. suddenly alive!billy is freaking tf out but she brings him inside the mortuary, wraps him up in a big blanket burrito and they have a talk. hilda explains that he’s going to be okay and rubs his back while he tentatively sips the hot chocolate she made.

after billy’s calmed down, she brings max and susan in. max and susan can’t do as much magic as the caos witches— they’re mortals, after all, it’s not in their nature —but they’ve gained some abilities thru being in the church, following the rituals, and being carnally involved with the immortal witches. max happily shows him some of her new magic tricks.

horror movie #4: another crossover with caos. heavily inspired by creepshow episode s2e1, model kid (which i already v blatantly referenced in the last axe snafu update and i’m not ashamed, bc it’s a good series i love v much).

billy picks max up from the byers’ place rly late one night. it’s dark and the weather is bad and okay, yeh, he might be a little high. and a little concussed. he pissed neil off pretty bad the other day and okay, actually he’s defo concussed bc he doesn’t even remember what he did wrong!

needless to say, they take a wrong turn somewhere. they end up in greendale. at first max is pissed. she yells at him a lot! yells so loud hilda can hear them thru the walls of dr. cerberus’s comic shop/diner. she goes outside to see what all the fuss is abt, hilda never rly ignores youth in need. we love hilda, she deserved so much better…i’m getting distracted, okay, back to the story.

hilda ushers them inside. max is like, “ooh, comics? horror junk and comics? nvm, i’m not mad anymore.” she pats billy’s arm and wanders away to go check stuff out! hilda makes billy sit down. caos canon established that she’s psychic, at least when she wants to be. she smells the weed but she also sees his life, his trauma. billy doesn’t remember what he did to piss neil off or the abuse that followed, but hilda sees it clear as day.

he’s rude and cranky w her when she probes a little too much for his liking. hilda gently but firmly reprimands him and gets him a milkshake on this house. then she goes to check on max. she steers max to a v particular section of the shop, the one that sells model kits. now, max isn’t *huge* into model kits BUT they are p neat and she enjoys them well enough. more so when the weather is nasty and she can’t go outside. or when she needs smth to do with her hands (a trait she shares w susan) to distract herself and ease some of the anxiety when she hears her brother being beaten or her mother being shouted at.

max is actually rly impressed by the array of models. vintage ones and newer ones. monsters, slashers, final girls, tiny accessories like knives and bloodied heads. but when she gets to the paint-your-own shelf, her jaw drops to the floor.

there’s one that looks just like neil. unpainted, plain gray vinyl, but undoubtedly her stepdad. the expression on the five inch figurine is one frozen in fear.

“i think that one’s calling to you,” hilda prompts her, with the softest smile.

max blinks away her bewilderment altho she still can’t speak. she turns to hilda and turns her empty pockets inside out. hilda just waves her hand. she tells her it’s on the house. that it wouldn’t be fair if she gave billy smth on the house, but not max.

speaking of billy, when he finishes his milkshake, he’s suddenly totally sober and healed!! no more high buzzing in his blood. no more pounding headache or concussion fogging his mind. he doesn’t feel his bruises anymore, rolls his sleeve up, and realizes they simply aren’t there anymore. like they dissolved off his skin.

albeit it’s muttered under his breath, but billy does thank hilda. then he and max are on their way. max shows him the suspiciously familiar figurine in the box. this night cannot get weirder.

max knows what to do with the model kit. she does. she isn’t sure how she knows, but she does. she grapples with it for a long time. neil’s the closest thing she has to a dad these days. and things aren’t bad all the time, ofc.

sometimes neil gives max a ride when mom and billy aren’t available. sometimes he brings her ice cream entirely unprompted. neil’s the one who picks max up off the sidewalk when she wipes out super bad on her skateboard, carries her inside and then later to the car when her cut doesn’t stop bleeding and she ends up needing stitches.

but most of the time he sucks. she can’t rly be herself around him. he's indifferent to her interest at best, scornful at worst. he would hate all her friends. he scares the shit out of her when he’s angry. he doesn’t have a problem belittling her mother in front of her, tearing susan to shreds and making her out like she’s lower than dirt, the most worthless person on the planet. doesn’t have a problem beating billy in front of her or glaring at her with the promise that she’ll be next if she dares to voice her dissent.

max doesn’t always want to do what she knows she’s meant to do with the model. bc she's kind at heart and bc on the good days, she genuinely does have mixed feelings toward neil. never enough to hope he'll be better, he's proven he won't...but maybe enough to hope he won't get worse, either.

then comes the night neil breaks ribs. bad, like we’re talking, a-sharp-spear-of-broken-rib-punctures-billy’s-lung-and-he’s-coughing-up-blood-bad. that’s a trip to the emergency room. in the days that follow, at her next dnd meeting w the party, max places the fully and attentively painted model of her stepdad on the table. normally her pals would protest her derailing the intended game, but they can sense it, yk, that smth is different.

max takes over as dungeon master to the protest of no one, all other mouths sealed as if bewitched and spellbound. she narrators a scene where the demogorgon devours neil and uses the demogorgon piece and the model for demonstration.

when max returns home, neil is strewn across the house in gory chunks and torn wallpaper curls around massive claw marks.

#writerwhowritesao3 #susan hargrove #max mayfield #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #crossover #hilda spellman #my scenario tag #i may have gotten carried away #my bad #it's october!#i'm in big horror mode

19 notes · View notes

what-the--curtains · 4 years ago

Text

Alliance

Chapter 3 - The Revelation

(Mando x f!reader)

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

Summary: After agreeing to help the Mandalorian, you land on Tatooine. Joined by an old friend the three of you locate a potential informant and a secret is revealed.

Notes: everytime I get a lil notification sayong someone has liked this post my heart gets so full so thank you all❤️❤️ I hope you continue to enjoy the story as much as I enjoy writing it!

Tw: Mentions of Alcohol/blood, Swearing

Tagged: @crazycookiecrumbles

Word count: 3.2k

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

R-16, Geonosis, Outer Rim Territories

Your POV

“Pretty swanky” you say, taking note of the Mandalorians newly acquired ship “who’d you steal this off of.”

He boards it stopping at the top when he realizes you hadn’t followed him up. “Are you coming? They’ll notice you’re missing soon. Your client didn’t look like the kind of guy to last a whole night.”

“How do I know you’re not going to sell me off again?” you ask, currently rethinking this whole situation.

“ If that’s what I was here to do that, you’d be handcuffed already”

“Really? Because if I remember correctly had it not been for your counterpart hitting me in the head last time, you’d have been on your way back empty handed.” He shakes his helmet evidently getting aggravated.

“Where is she by the way?” you ask.

“We don’t have time for this.” he interjects, walking back down and grabbing you by the arm. You shake free “I’m not going anywhere with you if you’re going to treat me like a prisoner.” A clatter from up above draws you attention away from the conversation at hand. “You sure the kid’s not just roaming around upstairs.”

“Wait here” he exhales, disappearing briefly before returning with an unmistakable bundle.

“Anya!” you exclaim under your breath, eyes lighting up. “Impossible” you whisper as the small creature wriggles out of Mandos' arms and rushes towards you. “How?” you ask looking up. “Answer me Mandalorian” .

“The child” he responds “he brought it back to life. What?” he asks, noticing your forehead wrinkle in confusion.

“Nothing, I just thought the only people that could do that were long gone.” Perhaps you owed this child more than just a thank you for saving Anya. If he was able to give life he too was able to wield the force, your grandmother would not be happy if you left a Jedi in the arms of the empire. Knowing this you climb onto the ship with Anya.

“They’ll be a bounty on me now.” You state, sitting down in the co-pilot seat.

“Welcome to the club,” he says, jumping the ship into hyperspace.

“Let’s get a few things straight. I now understand why you traded me, and why this child must be returned safely, but do not get me wrong, we are not friends, I do not forgive you and I definitely do not trust you. I am here to repay a debt. Once I have we go our separate ways, and I never have to see beskar ever again. Got it?” He nods shifting into auto-pilot. “Good. There a shower on this thing?” you ask, your smell becoming increasingly offensive.

“Downstairs to the right.” You drop down scoping out the ship, not too shabby. You hear a clang, turning around to face the Mandalorian.

“What?” you say, concerned he’d caught you snooping.

“Here” he says, handing you a set of clothes, “should fit.” You take them, but he doesn’t move, and he’s blocking the door to the shower.

“What are you waiting for? A kiss?” You ask as you push by him into the bathroom having flustered him enough to knock him off balance. Closing the door you breathe a sigh of relief, as you lock it behind you. You get into the shower letting the water hit your face and run slowly down your body. It’s not warm, but it’s better water pressure than you’ve had in months. Looking down you see a puddle of burgundy pooling at your feet, caused by the admixture of blood, makeup and various other fluids currently coating your body. You rinse the blood and guts out of your hair scrubbing at that which had been there long enough to crust over. You wince in pain when you brush up against an old scar that must have reopened in the fight earlier today, oh well, you think, it will heal. The various wounds on your body were proof of that. After about a month of being in the rings you stopped bruising, but scarring was still a part of day to day life. They covered the markings and tattoos scattered across what was once smooth skin. Turning off the water, you step out of the shower and dry off before pulling on the black pants and long sleeve provided to you. Walking back up to the cockpit and placing Anya onto the seat you lean over the dashboard.

“Where are we going.” you ask. No reply. “Hey beskar head I asked you a question.” You say not realizing he had been staring at you. He points at the tracker sitting on the dash. “On another hunt?”

“ This was on the guy who sold me and the kid out, started beeping again while you were showering.”

“You gonna give me my weapons back?” you inquire, unsure of what the plan was.

“Still downstairs, I couldn't sell them. No one wanted them” he says locking in the coordinates and beginning his landing.

“Well I guess I was wrong Mandalorians can’t tell jokes after all. Where are we by the way”

“Tatooine home of the moisture farmers, and not the nice part”

“Think they’d choose a wetter planet to farm moisture” you say, looking out at the planet's arid landscape through the windshield. The two of you exit the cockpit and head towards the armoury.

“Careful” he says, as you reach your hand in.

“I just spent several months in combat I think I’ll be fine” you say sarcastically. You reach into the armoury, quickly pulling your hand back when the security system zaps you. “Fuck” you say bringing your hand to your mouth, as he turns off the protection. “Shut up”

“I didn’t say anything”

“But you were thinking it. So same goes.” You remove a bow and arrow, quickly realizing they weren't your originals.

“Real ones were lost in the incident, picked these up on the way to get you” he says leaning forward and removing the Anbam sniper rifle and standard issue blaster.

Anya follows the two of you out of the ship burying her nose into the sand pulling out a large bone. The Mandalorian was a man of few words so you have no idea where you were going, or what the plan was, but you were happy for the peace. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been in complete silence.

“Well, well, well.” A voice echoes. You draw your bow and the Mandalorian unholsters his blaster.

“Didn’t think you’d be back so soon and with someone so pretty.” the voice says as a figure of a tall man appears from behind a large sandstone.

“Cobb” the Mandalorian says, lowering his blaster

“Mando!” The older gentleman exclaims locking arms with the somewhat reluctant Mandalorian. You keep your bow aimed, as Anya approaches him sniffing his boots.

“And who might this be?” he asks looking at you while bending down to pet the critter.

“Ask her yourself.” Mando says, almost annoyed. Cobb was handsome, more so than most which makes you almost immediately untrusting of him. Anya seems to have taken a liking to him though so you drop the hostility for now. You lower your weapon and take his extended hand. “Cobb Vanth, i'm the marshal round these parts, Nice to meet you” he says

“y/n, and likewise” you respond, pulling your hand back.

“Where’s the kid?” Vanth asks and you see the Mandalorians' demeanor change guilt radiating off him.

“He’s gone, we're trying to find him. She’s a tracker” he says, pointing to you.

You look over at the Mandalorian, how did he know that? The two men walk in front of you, discussing the events that had unfolded a few days prior. As you make your way into the town you find yourself relaxing slightly. None of the locals looked like the kind to recognize you.

“Glad to see things have picked up since I was last here.”

“Well Mando, turns out less giant snakes makes for happier people.” Cobb says

“Funny how that works”

“C’mon, you look hungry and like you need a few drinks,” the Marshal says with a smile. “Might just run into your bounty if we’re lucky.” He throws two fingers up at the bartender, as you enter, leads you to a nearby empty booth. You thank the bartender as he brings out the food and drink.

“So who are we looking for.” The Marshal asks

“Ugly guy” Mando starts

“Well that narrows it down” you mutter earning a chuckle from the Marshal. Before he can continue describing the guy, the tracker starts to beep more consistently.

“Must be your lucky day” the marshal says coolly as an Aqualish enters into the establishment, tusks and all.

“Put your hood up” you say to the Mandalorian “he’ll recognize the armour, switch seats with me.” He obliges, pulling up the hood of his cloak as you shift over top of him so his back is now facing the door and you're sat between him and the Marshal.

“Alright looks like we’re in need of a plan” Cobb says.

“Give me 20 minutes with it, I’ll get the information” you say standing up.

“No way. Not happening. If this falls through you’re our only shot at finding the kid.” The Mandalorian says tugging you down by the back of your shirt, much to your dismay.

“Well there's always option B.” you say, pausing for a moment “you get up and he runs a mile then we're really gonna be screwed.” Seemingly having convinced the Mandalorian you were capable of getting the information needed, he agrees.

“Fine. 20 minutes, then we're coming after you.” He says. You stand up passing by the marshal and make your way over to the bar.

Mandos POV

He watches you head over, scanning the crowd for any potential threats. Even cloaked you stood out, and the odds of someone recognizing an ex-gladiator was high, especially one as successful as you. He tenses up when a Nikto approaches you. His hand subtly moves to the blaster, but not so subtly that it didn’t catch the marshals attention.

“You should relax Mando, it seems like she’s got it under control.” he says, nodding his head in your direction . He turns seeing you utter a few words to the Nikto causing it to continue on seemingly in a trance. His hand eases off the blaster and he relaxes back into his seat.

“Awfully protective” Cobb says, the Mandalorian ignores this comment, of course he was being protective, he needed you to find the child. He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a glass being dropped off at the table. Cobb throws his hand up nodding to you in thanks, the target had been acquired.

“So, where’d ya find her?” he asks, taking a sip of the drink.

“Long story.”

“Well we have twenty minutes.”

“Traded her for the child a while back she was fighting in a gladiatorial ring until about 25 hours ago.” He says as Anya settles down on the Marshal lap.

“This is quite the creature.”

“The kid saved it.”

“So that’s why she’s hanging around with your homely helmeted ass. Seriously, she looks like a fallen star.” Cobb pauses looking to his friend “Ahhh, but you’ve already noticed.” With no response the Marshal continues “Well if there’s nothing there then I’m in luck.” The helmet turns ,“A joke Mando, a joke.” The Marshal says lifting his hands up. Before he can respond the Mandalorian feels something bump against his shoulder causing him to look up just in time to see you pass by with the target in pursuit. As he watches him exit the bar he catches a glint of a small sphere, a bomb.

“dank farrik” he says, standing up and moving through the bar in pursuit.

“What happened to twenty minutes?” the Marshal shouts after him.

Your POV.

“Thanks for the drink sweetheart” the Aqualish says as you turn around, this was not your first time dealing with one, but you did hope it would be your last.

“If you’re looking to repay the favour you may be able to help me find something, I believe you’ve come across. A child. Small, green, big ears.”

The Aqualish laughs reaching its hand back for the bomb. Using the force you stay his hand a few inches away from the weapon.

“Answer me, before my patience wears thin.” You say. Patience, already wearing thin.

“Look lady I was hoping for some fun, let me go and no one has to get hurt.”

“You’re not in much of a potion to be negotiating.” You say. The unmistakable sound of a blaster going off suddenly echoes and you feel something cold and wet hit your face. You look up as the Aqualish drops to the floor standing behind him you see the Mandalorian.

“Seriously!” You say angrily, wiping the residue out of your face.

“It had a bomb.”

“I know I had it under control. Clean this up you say” pushing past him.

“Why do I…” he starts,

“Because…” you say turning on your heel to face him, “if we had done things my way there wouldn’t have been a mess to clean up at all.” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air, before returning to the bar.

You slump down in the booth next to the Marshal.

“How long did you put up with him for before you lost it?”

“Went well I take it.” He says offering you the remainder of his drink.

“Could have, if someone had just showed a modicum of trust.” You say taking a swig of the blue liquid.

“Seems like he trusts easy. He trusts you enough to ask for your help.”

“He doesn't trust me he needs my help, there's a distinct difference.” You say downing the rest of the drink causing Cobb to raise his eyebrows slightly opting to change the course of the conversation.

“Well I have to say you are just about the prettiest thing to show up here.” You roll your eyes, it wasn’t the first time you’d heard that. Despite this you find yourself smiling Cobb was quite charming after all.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on her, she doesn’t usually take to strangers.” You say moving in to scratch behind Anya’s ears.

“Got a way with all living things, though I find humans easier than animals.” He laughs.

“Well I’m sure that has something to do with your charm and face” you say. He’s about to respond when you both see a flash of armour leave the bar.

“Guess we’re leaving” He says offering you a hand, you take it and exit in pursuit of the Mandalorian.

“Mando!” the Marshal calls after him.

“Don’t leave on my account. I’ll be on the ship. If you’re not back by morning I'll find the child on my own.” he says continuing on his way.

“Oh don’t be jealous Mando we were just talking.” Cobb, says not making the situation any better.

Assuming you couldn’t piss him off anymore than he already was you pick up a stray rock and throw it at him. It hits the back of the helmet causing him to stop and turn around.

“Nice shot” the Cobb whispers to you looking impressed.

“Thanks” you say walking over to the Mandalorian.

“You okay Mandalorian?” you ask

“We should be looking for the kid not relaxing in a bar.”

“You’re not the only one who owes this child something, and don’t act like this wasn’t the first moment of freedom I’ve enjoyed in months.” with no reply you continue “What now? You killed our last lead.”

“I don’t know that’s why you’re here to figure it out.” He says sharply, the two of you now staring each other down.

“Well that’s my cue, Mando, always a pleasure, (y/n) lovely to meet you, if you’re ever looking for work I’m always in need of a deputy.” Cobb says, patting Anya on the head and heading off back towards town. You interrupt your glaring contest and wave goodbye to the Marshal. Having calmed down slightly, you turn back to the Mandalorian.

“Do you have something of his?”

“What?” the voice asks, even with the modulator you could tell he was frustrated.

“Of the child’s anything belonging to him?” you say suddenly feeling equally as irritated.

“It all went up…wait.” he says reaching into his pocket pulling something small and silver out.

“A toy of his” He says. You stick your hand out and he drops the small silver ball into your hand. As it makes contact with your skin you feel the emotion enveloping it. He cares greatly for this child, perhaps you had misjudged the Mandalorian. With this in mind you begin to gather stray stones placing them in a pattern on the ground using a nearby stick to trace lines in the sand.

“Are you going to summon him or something?” He asks.

“Not a witch.” you reply unsure if he’s joking or not.

You close your eyes, breathing deeply. The Mandalorian watches in awe as the rocks and sand begin to rise recreating a map of the galaxy. You open your eyes and walk over to Anya, bending down, you offer her the small metal ball which she sniffs. She begins circling the base of the galaxy stopping on the outer rim. Pulling more rocks forward you create a series of steps which Anya begins to ascend, sniffing the planets in front of her. She stops, sitting down so as to indicate she had located the scent.

“You know where that is?” you ask, looking up at the T visor which was still fixed on the map you had created. He hadn’t said anything in a while not that he ever really did, but you’d asked a question and needed an answer.

“Anyone home” you say, lifting your hand to knock on the helmet. He grabs your wrist before you can.

“No, I don’t, but I can get us there.” He says, gently releasing you. You drop the map to the floor leaving a small cloud of dust in its wake as you re-enter the ship.

“I hope you appreciate the delicacy of what I just did and the possible danger I’ve put us in.” You say, taking your seat, hoping you had made the correct choice in trusting him.

“How long have you known? That you have powers?” He asks, you smile at his choice of words.

“Since I was a child. My grandmother trained me in the way of the Jedi until she passed.”

“I’m sorry.” He says as he takes off.

“For what? you didn’t kill her.” After a prolonged period of silence you speak again. “I trust you’ll keep this between us, man of few words and all if it was to get out I'd take it very personally.” Taking his silence as understanding you breath a sign of relief. Leaning back you settle in for the upcoming journey.

#the mandolarian #mando x you #mando x reader #din dijarin x you #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x reader #din dijarin x reader #din djarin #star wars #alliance #chapter 3

46 notes · View notes

mythrilhusk · 3 years ago

Text

Why Can’t You Trust Your Own Eyes: Part 1/?

You can not sleep now, there are monsters nearby, the server whispers.

Hannah jolts awake, the hilt of her sword leaping to her palm. The pale roses embedded in her skin sing with the promises of new life and colorful meadows. She grits her teeth and groans, flopping back into her bed. Listening to the babbling water, she stares up at the blackstone ceiling of her underground base.

Water splashes by the entrance, accompanied by a heavy grunt. Leaping to her feet, Hannah draws her sword and scowls at the two intruders. "What the hell're you doing here?"

The larger, scarier of the two steps in front of the other, holding up his paws appeasingly. "Chill, we didn't know this place was occupied. Just let us heal up, and we'll get outta your hair."

Hannah takes a cautious step towards him. He's some kind of pig hybrid: pink fur and ivory tusks and sturdy build; oddly familiar for some reason. But he's covered in blood, black and red and green mingling down his skin and matting in his mane. Several barbs from an Elder Guardian stick out from his arms and ribs. An arrow pokes from his shoulder. How is he still standing?

"It's not all mine," He chuffs at her confused and concerned look.

"Y-yeah, I can see that." Hannah lowers her sword. The other man peeks timidly out from behind his protector. His face is covered with a cracked mask. He's soaked, filthy, and leaking green blood from several wounds. It would be a mercy to kill them both, her roses hiss. Hannah's accustomed to dispensing mercy.

"Uhh, listen, we're not gonna steal any of your pots, but do you have any food? I can repay you later." The pig hybrid rests a gentle, cautious paw on the masked man's shoulder. "He's pretty badly hurt, and, ha, so am I, not gonna lie."

The memory clicks in her head. Technoblade. That's why he's familiar; he helped Quackity drive out the Eggpire from their own Banquet. Hannah's sword itches in her hand. She sheathes it. "Get deeper in," She orders, making up her mind.

They're on the run from someone, or something, and they're weak. Hannah could kill him, or she could turn him in to his hunters, and that would be one more enemy of the Eggpire down.

Technoblade nods and guides his companion down through her base. Hannah follows them, ready to draw her sword at any moment. But Technoblade limps, and the other leans on him, gasping in pain with every step. They've fought so hard just to get here. Something that is not the Egg unfurls in her heart, sharp like the thorns of a quince.

Hannah throws down two beds for them, deep in the torchlit blackstone halls. Technoblade sets his dying companion down on one, sets his respawn on the other, and leans against the wall. "Gonna kill me now?"

"I don't know what you mean," Hannah lies quickly.

Technoblade sighs, staring away at a flickering torch. "I'm not goin' after the Eggpire right now. We just need to heal."

"But you will," She notes coldly. "After you heal yourselves, then what?"

"We've kinda got more pressing matters on our hands, not gonna lie." Technoblade shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant, but Hannah can see the tension in his shoulders.

This isn't right, her roses hiss, and she should listen to them. She should contact Bad, contact someone. She could kill both of them herself right now; they're weak, they're at her mercy.

The blossoming pity in her heart strikes conflict.

"Welcome to my secret base, I guess," Hannah sighs, suppressing the sliver of pity as she offers a stack of bread. "Don't steal, don't grief, and don't mess with my stuff."

She'll keep an eye on them for now. Perhaps if she's kind to them, Technoblade will think twice before trying to interfere with the Eggpire again.

Technoblade takes the bread and offers some to his companion first. "Hey, it's not potatoes."

"Not hungry," He grumbles. Technoblade shrugs and leaves half the bread by their bed while he noms a few loaves.

Hannah leans against the opposite wall. "Who are you?"

Technoblade gives her a wary glance. "This is, uhh, my cousin, uh, Axel."

"I hate that name," Axel growls. "Techno, give me a cooler name."

"He hates his name," Technoblade says helpfully.

"Oh." Hannah doesn't quite know what to make of the obvious lie, but she lets it go.

Technoblade bobs his head to her. "Yeah, uh, thanks for your hospitality, by the way. Most people on this server prolly woulda killed us by now, not gonna lie."

"Just me," Axel mutters, "You're safe."

"Not if I'm in the line of fire protectin' you," Techno retorts casually back. Axel visibly relaxes, but still turns his head away with a quiet scoff.

Techno's wounds have started to close as the food takes effect. It's not as fast as a healing or regen pot, but Hannah's not wasting her precious resources on two refugees, much less an enemy of the Egg. Axel still hasn't eaten, but he's started contemplating a loaf of bread, at least. He turns away to lift his mask and nibble it. It takes one tiny bite before he loses his restraint and devours the bread hungrily. As his hunger's filled up, his wounds start to close up as well.

They're both still filthy, however, and getting the blood and mud all over the sheets and walls. With a huff, Hannah pushes herself away from the wall. "There's a hot spring farther down. Clean yourselves up once you're healed."

"K."

Hannah turns back and examines them. They're both unarmored, unarmed, and completely harmless. "You can sleep here for the night, too, I guess."

Just one night. That's all. Then they'll be on their way.

++++

AN: My AO3 is Rogue_Swordsmith. This is a lil idea I had, of Hannah taking in Techno and Dream after they escaped prison. Techno can’t contact the Syndicate atm, cause Sam is watching all communication channels, so they’re alone and on the run. ;p I might continue it, I might not, but if you feel inspired, you’re welcome to take this idea and run with it.

Part 2

#c!dream healing arc #hurt/comfort #technoblade #hannahxxrose #blood cw #dream smp #post-prison arc #HuskWrites #not an apologist #but not an anti either #I just enjoy the characters #Flowering Trust AU

3 notes · View notes

c0ttonberries · 4 years ago

Note

What about Abby for a redesign? The autistic queen herself!!

Abbey says autistic rights and also "please give me practical outfit"

Gave her a parka and some flannel since she comes from a super cold climate and that's what they'd typically wear to conserve heat. Also peep those snow boots homegirls prepared

She has a lot of body fur, but she shaves most of it- not out of societal expectation, but because since she lives in a warmer climate now she doesn't really need it and doesn't wanna overheat. That's what the white speckles are on her face and neck! She's got a lil stubble :3 once it starts getting colder the girls can see her fur growing out a bit and she TOTALLY makes it look fashionable when she wants to! She also typically does the combination of "more fur, less layers" so u can see her rocking some capris and a tank top when she doesn't feel like shaving

I tried keeping her ears smaller than others' because I remembered snow leopards have small ears so they don't lose heat, and figured the same would apply to Abbey and the other Himilayan Yetis.

Instead or the weird body-wrapping string around her dress I just went for her having a coil of rope hooked on her belt in case she ever needs it. Whether that be climbing to the second floor because the stairs are crowded, grabbing something from far away when she doesn't wanna walk, etc etc.

And finally, I gave her some bigger tusks! Mattel may be able to get away with just painting them on her lips but she's a friggin YETI. GIVE HER THOSE TEEF

Have a monster high character you want me to redesign? Shoot an ask my way!!

#not pictured: her bisexual pride flag and also autistic rights pin she keeps on her backpack #abbey bominable #monster high #monster high redesign #fandom: monster high

35 notes · View notes

thelastspeecher · 4 years ago

Text

D&D AU - Elf Kid Adventures, Pt. 2

Electric Boogaloo

I actually have two more scenes planned to tie up this little story arc in my D&D AU where Stan is half-orc and half-elf. I originally was going to include those scenes in this post, but then these two scenes on their own were much longer than I expected. So, uh, here’s some awkward stuff, some angst, some “aww” moments, and most importantly, a whole mess of Stan being head over heels for Angie.

Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

Stan couldn’t decide whether the expectation he did chores was the worst part or the best part of staying at the McGucket farmstead. On the one hand, he had to get up when Ole Tinbeak – the earliest rising rooster – crowed. On the other hand, the praise from Mr. McGucket never seemed to end.

“Excellent!” Mr. McGucket said cheerfully, watching Stan lug a bale of hay twice his size. “I must say, Stanaximus, yer the strongest elf I’ve ever seen, and yer only a child right now!” Stan grinned despite the straws of hay poking his face. “Would ya consider employment as a farmhand?”

“Thanks,” Stan said, slipping into the manners that Mrs. McGucket had insisted on drilling into him. “But I like being a ranger with Angie and Lute.”

“Fair enough,” Mr. McGucket said. Stan set down the bale of hay. His vision now unobscured, he spotted Lute standing a few feet away. Lute had never seemed that intimidating to Stan before, and his new age (and matching immature wardrobe with many pairs of shorts) only served to hinder his continued attempts. He was in his thirties, according to Mrs. McGucket, which made him like a human five-year-old.

“He’s only bein’ nice to you ‘cause yer a guest,” Lute hissed. Stan snorted.

“If you could see through all that hair, you’d know that’s not true,” he replied. Lute lifted the dark bangs that covered his eyes to glare at Stan.

“I can see just fine,” Lute snapped. Stan grinned.

“Aw, is someone grumpy ‘cause he’s overdue for a nap?” Stan teased. Lute blushed fiercely. The McGucket parents had insisted Lute have at least one nap a day at this age. Something about the extra rest being particularly important for growing elves. “Maybe you should go sleep.”

“You-” Lute started. Mr. McGucket came over. He took his youngest son’s hand.

“He’s right, Lute. Stan, think ya can finish the chores if Angie helps?”

“Uh, sure. But I don’t know where she is,” Stan said slowly. Someone jumped down from the barn’s loft, landing lightly in front of Stan. Angie beamed at him. “…How long were you up there?” Angie shrugged.

“It’s startin’ to get a bit dark, so ya best check the fence fer breaks first, ‘fore night falls,” Mr. McGucket said, leading Lute out of the barn. Stan and Angie nodded. Once Mr. McGucket was gone, Stan turned to Angie.

“We’re supposed to check the fence?” he asked.

“Yep! Follow me.” Angie walked out of the barn. Stan followed. They went to the enclosed cattle pasture and began to follow the fencing. “Luckily, breaks ‘re pretty easy to spot,” Angie said cheerfully. “And easy to fix, too. Just a quick Mending.” Stan nodded silently, trying to ignore how the setting sun made her golden hair turn a fiery orange. They continued to walk in silence for a few moments. “Don’t let Lute get ya down,” Angie said in a low tone.

“Huh? Oh, I’m not.” Stan shrugged. “I actually kinda like being a kid again.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m-” Stan rubbed the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly. “I’m not in that big of a rush to get this curse removed, to be honest.” Angie came to a stop, leaning against the fencing. Stan did the same. His hands gripped the wooden slats. Angie turned her head to face him. A few long golden strands of hair loose from her braid bounced with the movement. The sun cast her form in a brilliant halo.

“Why’s that?” she asked. Distracted by how she looked in the fading light, Stan didn’t hear her question.

“Huh?” he mumbled. Angie rolled her silver eyes. As dusk encroached, they began to glow with a faint foxfire.

“Why are ya not in a hurry to be back to normal?” she asked. “I thought ya missed yer tusks.” Stan sighed.

“I mean, I do.”

“Then what’s goin’ on?”

“I…” Stan trailed off. Angie scooted closer to him. Her hand rested next to his, their skin touching. Stan’s heartrate picked up. Unable to stop himself, he blurted out the truth. “I forgot how much better people used to treat me.” Angie’s eyes widened.

“…Pardon?” she asked.

Shit. Way to go, Stan. This is what you get for being so easily distracted by pretty girls.

“I grew up in a mostly human settlement,” Stan said quietly. “The only elf who lived in town was my mom. Looking like her, I got attention. But it was good attention, ‘cause a lotta humans are obsessed with elves. Even travelers passing through would sometimes stop and talk to me and my twin brother. I think…” Stan furrowed his brow. “I think my mom said that, if we had grown up in a proper elf environment, we wouldn’t be allowed to interact with visitors. I guess elf kids are considered really important, so they get kept away from outsiders. At least, that’s how it was where my mom grew up.”

“Ma says things were the same way where she came from,” Angie said. “She ‘n Pa had some disagreements ‘bout it when we were little. So it’s probably a high elf thing, not a specific place thing.”

“Yeah.” Stan took a breath. “I liked getting all that positive attention. But then my tusks started growing in, and my hair got darker, and I got bigger in a way that elves just aren’t.” Stan looked down at the dirt. He nudged a clump with the toe of his borrowed boot. “I stopped looking like my mom and started looking like my pops. And I don’t have a lick of human in me, so I don’t look like a proper half-orc. By the time I was sixteen, I looked full orc.” Angie made a strangled sound. Stan looked at her.

“Sixteen?” she choked out, shocked.

“Orcs don’t live that long. Until I became an adult, I aged close to the same rate humans do. I think I was about twenty when my elf side kicked in to slow it down.”

“Oh. Right.” Angie nodded. “You told me ‘fore that you were in yer sixties.”

“Yep. Haven’t aged a day in the last forty years, thanks to Mom.”

“Yes. Okay, continue yer story.”

“Well, I dunno how much there is left to tell. I looked like an orc, and you know how people treat orcs. Visitors stopped giving me treats and started putting their hands on their weapons when they saw me. Since that’s how it’s been for the last few decades, I forgot that people didn’t always look at me like I was about to kill them.”

“Even if you don’t get the curse reversed, you’ll start agin’ on yer own,” Angie pointed out. Stan’s stomach twisted into a knot. “Sooner rather than later, you’ll look like yer father again.”

“Yeah. I know.” Stan’s head drooped. “It’s just-”

“No need to explain. I understand,” Angie said firmly. She placed her hand over Stan’s. Stan’s heart skipped a beat. “It’s easier to be an elf than an orc.” She quirked a half-grin. “Though, just so’s ya know, I prefer yer orcish self to yer elvish self.”

“R-really?” Stan stammered. Angie nodded.

“Tusks ‘n all.”

-----

Stan had just finished his breakfast when Mr. McGucket entered the kitchen.

“Stanaximus?” he said. Stan looked over.

“Yeah?”

“Walk with me, son.”

“Um. Okay.” Stan deposited his plate in the sink and followed Mr. McGucket outside. “Did you need me for something?”

“I just need to have a lil chat with ya,” Mr. McGucket said airily. “But I think you’d prefer the chat happen where there aren’t ears to listen.” Dread began to build in Stan’s gut. The two walked off the main, cleared area that constituted the farmstead, and into the surrounding woods. Mr. McGucket moved through the trees like he was one with his surroundings, effortlessly silent and graceful. It was actually almost difficult for Stan to keep track of the man, as he blended in so well.

I mean, he is a wood elf. Makes sense.

“What did you wanna talk about?” Stan asked. Mr. McGucket smiled.

“You courtin’ my youngest child,” he said simply. Stan stumbled over a root. Mr. McGucket caught him. “You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m- I’m-” Stan swallowed. “What makes you think I wanna court Angie?”

“I see the way ya look at her. Like she’s the sun, moon, ‘n stars. There’s no mistakin’ what that means.” Mr. McGucket looked at Stan. “You can deny all ya want after this conversation, but I want ya to be truthful durin’ it, okay?”

“…Fine,” Stan mumbled. He clenched his hands into fists and ground them into his eyes. “I…I really like Angie, and being a kid again has made it a lot worse.”

“Makes sense. Children have lesser control over their emotions, after all. Thank you fer bein’ willin’ to talk blunt with me.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Now, I encourage ya to court Angie, once you’ve all been returned to yer proper ages. But I needed to warn ya that a courtship with her won’t go without difficulties.”

“What- what do you mean?” Stan asked. Mr. McGucket sighed.

“Politics. Yer a noble, and my wife, she…she was somethin’ sim’lar ‘fore she left her home to be with me. I don’t know whether she still has her title or not, and our children certainly don’t have any titles, but they do technically belong to a very powerful sun elf house. If you were a wood elf, or even just a reg’lar sun elf, I doubt it would be a problem. As it is, it might not be. But it could be. So I figured I’d warn ya.”

“But I’m not noble,” Stan said. Mr. McGucket frowned at him. “You guys keep insisting I am, but I’m not! Maybe my mom is, or was, but my pops, he was about as far from noble as you can get.”

“Was?”

“…Pops passed away a few decades ago,” Stan said quietly.

“My condolences.”

“I don’t need ‘em. He was a kinda shit father.”

“Hmm.” At Mr. McGucket’s thoughtful, though noncommittal, sound, Stan looked up. There was a troubled look on the man’s face. “Would that be related to the scars on yer back and arms?”

“How- how do you-”

“Harper saw when he took ya to the lake to swim last week,” Mr. McGucket explained. Stan stifled a curse. The oldest McGucket son, Harper, had showed up unexpectedly with his adopted children, then insisted on them all doing activities during his visit. Harper was an incredibly odd person, but Stan thought he was at least tolerable.

At least, I used to think that. Now that I know he’s a snitch? Nah.

“I want to revisit this at a later time,” Mr. McGucket said after a moment. “Right now, we need to talk about you courtin’ my daughter.”

Do we?

“There’s no doubt you have noble blood, Stan. Just yer full name is one that’s indicative of high status. Even if ya don’t have a noble title or upbringing, ya have it in yer heritage.” Mr. McGucket cocked his head thoughtfully. “Though not havin’ a title will prob’ly make it so Angie’s own royal blood ain’t a factor.”

“Did you say ‘royal’?” Stan croaked. A twinkle entered Mr. McGucket’s eye.

“Yes.” Stan’s jaw dropped. “Now, I will say- wait.”

“What?” Stan asked. Mr. McGucket now looked at him with visible concern.

“Open yer mouth, son.” Before Stan could comply or refuse, Mr. McGucket carefully pried his jaws open, looking at his teeth like he was determining a horse’s age. “Oh, no. Are these…fangs?” Instantly, Stan broke into a cold sweat.

Fuck! My tusks! They started coming in! Mr. McGucket released his hold and took a step back, worry etched on his face. Stan closed his mouth.

“It’s okay,” Stan said quickly.

“Son, you have two teeth what shouldn’t be there, and what look awful dif’rent from yer other teeth.”

“It’s, um…” Stan’s mind raced. “My pops, he got cursed when he was younger, and it got passed down to me somehow.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not a problem.”

“Maybe. But when we get this main curse off ya, we’ll take a look at this one that made ya grow fangs.”

“Maybe…”

Gods, no, there’s no way in any of the planes that I’d let some elf take my tusks away. Stan and Mr. McGucket entered a large clearing. Stan blinked at the farmhouse before them. Without him realizing, they’d walked back to the McGucket farmstead. Mr. McGucket put a hand on his shoulder.

“Yer a very interestin’ young man,” he said.

Damn, and he doesn’t even know I’m half-orc.

“I’d like to have many more conversations with ya. But since yer likely to woo my daughter, I have no doubt I’ll have plenty of opportunities to chat.”

“I might not court her,” Stan said quietly. The second he spoke, he knew it was a lie. There was no chance he wouldn’t shoot his shot.

“It’d be a shame if ya didn’t, since ya have not just my blessin’, but that of my wife, too.” Mr. McGucket squeezed Stan’s shoulder. “And not to mention, we wouldn’t push ya to court if we didn’t think it would go well.” Stan swallowed. “All right, ya can go back to denyin’ now. I have to go run a few errands, and you have some chores.”

Recognizing the dismissal for what it was, Stan headed for the barn. As he approached, Angie emerged from it. She caught sight of him and waved. Stan’s heart did yet another backflip upon seeing her. She came over to him.

“Were ya in the woods with my pa?” she asked.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, he didn’t try to hunt me or anything. He just wanted to talk.”

“What were you talkin’ ‘bout?”

“How you’re actually a long-lost elven princess,” Stan said casually. Angie gasped and punched his shoulder. “Nah, it was just weird stuff where he called me ‘son’ a lot and wanted to know about my family.”

“He called ya ‘son’, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds to me like he was askin’ ‘bout yer fam’ly ‘cause he considers ya part of ours.” Angie winked. “Good luck with that.” Stan grinned confidently.

“I think I can handle your family. I mean, I handle you all right,” he said. Angie threw her head back and laughed.

“I’ll let ya continue to think that.”

#hhhhhh I love writing Stan simping for Angie and vice versa. just love me some Stangie #btw no clue when I'll write the finale for this story arc #hopefully during my days off for Thanksgiving next week #Stangie #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Lute McGucket #Pa McGucket #McGucket Family #DnD AU #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

17 notes · View notes

allhalloweve · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 4: The Wildland

Chapter 4 of Axe and Sword is up! Read it here on AO3!

If Lily ever saw that fucking wizard again, she was going to kill him. “How’re you doing, Dorcas?” she shouted over the roar of quaking trees and the rumble of the earth.

“I’ve been better!” Dorcas clung tighter to her branch as the trunk groaned beneath her; with each lurching roll, the arrows in her quiver came closer to spilling out.

“James?”

James’ hand slipped on the flat bark and he scrambled to wrap both arms around the tree. “Ask me again when this stops!”

“If we make it out of here, you and I are going to have a discussion about insulting magic lands.” Lily’s heart leaped as the wood beneath her hands gave a threatening creak and she silently cursed her decision to follow a gang of idiots halfway across the world. Maybe if she had just minded her own business and stayed home, she wouldn’t be in this situation.

A strange rustling noise grew steadily louder and she craned her neck to look further into the jungle, where the canopy swayed in the earthquake. “I think something’s coming!” Dorcas warned.

“I’d rather face shaking ground than being eaten alive,” James said as be began to slide down his perch.

“Agreed,” Lily and Dorcas chorused. Alright, Lils, step-by-step. Imagine you’re at home. Trees in Bailey were easy to climb—their gnarled knots and sturdy branches were ideal for long afternoons spent climbing toward the sky with little fear of falling. These trees, on the other hand, had sand-smoothed bark and made her hands itch when she touched them for some unknown reason.

She made it halfway down before her foot missed a spot and her palms, covered in fear sweat, skidded into open air. The cracked ground was hard as stone when she smacked down and her breath disappeared in a single huff, making her vision turn black for a moment. “Lily!” A blurry form appeared moments later, and two warm hands dragged her into a sitting position. “Are you hurt?”

“Dorcas,” she wheezed as soon as the first wisps of air entered her lungs. “Fine. ‘m okay.”

“Good. Come on!” Lily stumbled upright and kept a tight hold on Dorcas’ wrist as the three of them sprinted deeper into the forest, away from the sunbaked wasteland they had first been dropped in. It was, unsurprisingly, quite difficult to run when the earth made a point of trying to turn itself inside out every few seconds; Lily was sure her shoulders would be bruised from bumping into anything within three feet of her.

The rustling turned into screeching and they poured on speed, but they weren’t fast enough to outrun the things coming in behind them. Lily had heard stories of the monsters of the Wildland: massive boars with metal tusks, sand worms the size of rivers, and flesh-eating deer were some of the frequent characters in fairy tales. She had never believed them before.

Dorcas let go of her hand and spun around, nocking an arrow and firing into the trees in record time. There was an earsplitting scream and a huge bird dropped from the tangle of vines, its razor-sharp beak open wide enough that Lily could see the tiny teeth inside. “We can’t outrun them! James, give me a hand!”

James was already in motion and a second bird fell moments later with a red-feathered arrow embedded in its neck. Lily drew her axe—the wave of rippling vines overhead became interspersed with feathers in a rainbow of colors and she was deafened by a cacophony of shrieking bird calls.

The first dive-bomber was met with a shorter, blue-fletched arrow and Dorcas turned her attention from shooting into the group to picking them off one by one as they appeared. “We can’t do this forever,” James yelled. “Sooner or later, we’ll run out of arrows, and I don’t know where we’ll get new ones.”

And, miraculously, the ground stilled. The monsters flew back into the canopy and disappeared with a soft shush of leaves. The only trace of their existence were five dead birds sprawled around the glade. “James, what did you do?” Lily asked cautiously, keeping her axe ready just in case.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s really quiet,” Dorcas said. “I don’t like it.”

“Do we…keep walking?”

“Hang on a second.” James lowered his bow and crept toward the corpse of a falcon-like creature, reaching out on hand to grasp his arrow by the hilt. With a sharp tug, it came free, and the bird disintegrated into a patch of… “Is that moss?”

“What the fuck?” Lily murmured. “That’s not normal.”

“These are gryphons,” Dorcas said as she followed James’ lead and collected her arrows. “I’ve seen them flying above the border once or twice, but they never came close enough to be an issue and they never travel in packs.”

“So the Wildland is out to get us?” Lily rolled her eyes. “I wonder whose fault that is.”

James sighed deeply. “Look, it was a simple observation and I wasn’t exactly expecting the whole place to take offense.”

“It’s magic! That’s what magic places do!”

“How would you know?”

“How would you?”

“Will both of you give it a rest?” Dorcas interrupted in exasperation. “At least now we know what to expect. We should get started on looking for the weapon if we want to have any hope of catching up to the others.”

“Dumbledore gave us a map, right?” Lily set the rucksack down and loosened the drawstring. Carefully, she poured the contents out onto the ground and began sifting through. “Looks like we have…an empty waterskin, a doll, a square of fabric, and a broken compass. Oh, here it is.”

Honestly, the other items in the bag should have prepared Lily for disappointment. “What?” James asked as her face fell.

“There’s no names or anything, just lines.” She laid it out for all of them to see and weighed down the corners with the other useless objects.

“I’m going to kill that wizard,” Dorcas muttered as she squinted at the map. “Which way is north?”

“No clue.”

James ran a hand through his hair. “Y’know, I thought forgetting a map was bad, but this…”

“So we have a useless map for a monster-infested place none of us have actually been to, and the fate of the world rests on our ability to find a single cryptic spot. That’s not difficult at all,” Dorcas said sarcastically. “Didn’t Dumbledore mention a compass?”

“He said Riddle’s weakness was in the compass rose,” Lily recalled.

“Is there something hidden in the one he gave us?” Without waiting for an answer, Dorcas grabbed the dented bronze compass from the pile of junk and began feeling along the edges. “There aren’t any latches or seams. Do we have to crack it open?”

James shrugged and grabbed one of his arrows. “Can’t get more broken than it already is.”

“No!” Lily snatched the compass away from them. “We’re not just going to shatter it! It has to have some sort of purpose.”

“Does it though?”

“A wizard gave it to us, right? That means it’s either helpful or cursed and I’m not ready to die from some sort of booby trap you two set off by prying it apart with an arrowhead.” Lily opened the top and watched the needle spin. “I think we should try and follow it.”

“If it’s cursed, we’ll be walking straight into a trap,” James pointed out.

“I think we have worse things to worry about than traps,” Dorcas said. “There are a lot of stories about what lives in here and I’m not keen on getting killed by any of those. Let’s find some water and a safe place to plan before we make any big decisions.”

They set off deeper into the forest, keeping the edge of the woods in sight in case the gryphons came back. Lily’s knees ached from running through an earthquake and she hoped a shelter showed itself soon. The sun was astonishingly bright even through the trees and it was difficult to tell how much time had passed with the glare; Lily’s best guess was that it had been two hours since they left Dumbledore’s house, but her knowledge of magic was limited to the events of the past twenty-four hours.

More than once, she caught herself looking over her shoulder for the other four members of their party. It was especially strange seeing James without Sirius, and she realized a few minutes into their journey that she had never actually seen James without his living shadow.

During one such time, he caught her eye. “What?”

“Sorry.” She shook her head. “It’s just weird seeing you without Sirius.”

James’ face fell. “Oh, Yeah.”

“What’s the story with that, anyway?”

“What story?”

“He told me he came to live with you when he was sixteen, but most people don’t get adopted by royalty on a whim. He got all weird when I asked where he lived before.”

“Then he probably doesn’t want you to know,” James said, sounding strangely annoyed.

“He doesn’t like talking about it.” Dorcas shared an uneasy glance with James and indignation sparked in Lily’s chest.

“Oh, so you know what happened, too?” When they both stayed quiet, her frustration grew. “I get that I’m not some high-born royal but that doesn’t mean you can just ignore me.”

“This has nothing to do with your status.” James stopped in his tracks. “For your information, I’m not royalty.”

“You’re a prince!”

“No, I’m not! My dad is an elected official for the mainland because the last one’s kid didn’t want to continue,” he snapped. “And I don’t plan on following in his footsteps.”

Next to Lily, Dorcas’ eyes widened, and James looked like he regretted his words. “What?”

“I thought you knew.”

“No,” she said, clearly upset. “James, I thought you wanted that.”

“I’m missing something,” Lily said, holding up her hands for a time-out. “What’s happening? You can’t just give up a monarchy, can you?”

“Like I said, the Eastern Coast doesn’t have a monarchy,” James sighed. “Each of the islands, including the mainland, elects a representative when the previous one steps down and their heir decides not to take their place. My dad was elected the year before I was born and I…I don’t want to do that.”

Dorcas frowned. “Did one of the others say something to you? Hang on, have you even told your parents yet?”

James shook his head. “You guys are my best friends; this has nothing to do with you. And no, not yet.”

“How long have you been thinking about this?” He was quiet. “James.”

“A couple years.”

From the look on Dorcas’ face, he may as well have smacked her between the eyes. “But you—at the councils—does Sirius know?”

Lily didn’t think it was possible, but James’ shoulders shrank in further. “I was planning on telling him after we got home. My parents would be so disappointed in me if they knew.”

Dorcas’ anger softened. “No, they wouldn’t.”

“They’ve been preparing me my whole life and I’m throwing it away.”

“What’s your plan?” Lily asked at last.

James’ eyes flickered over to her and his face flushed. “My granddad builds and sails ships for all the islands. I want to work with him.”

“That doesn’t sound like throwing your life away to me. You’d be really, really good at that,” Dorcas said. “James, your parents are good people. They’ll love you no matter what and I’m sure once you explain, they’ll understand.”

“Maybe,” he muttered. “After what happened to Sirius—”

“Your parents are not Sirius’ parents.” Dorcas’ voice was firm. “You know that.”

“What’s the deal with Sirius’ parents?” Right back where we started, Lily thought.

James hesitated for a moment, then started walking again. “Sirius used to be part of a super wealthy and ambitious family that wanted him to continue their bid for power. They were involved in some really nasty stuff, a lot of corruption and such, and he told them he wanted to no part in it. They disowned him within a week and shipped him off to the Eastern Coast.”

“It was a huge deal among the upper-class families,” Dorcas added, her face stormy. “People called it the scandal of the century.”

“It happened at a big party, too.” James frowned. “He still won’t tell me the whole story.”

“Shit.” Lily didn’t know how to respond to that. “I don’t think he believed me when I told him he was a good person. That explains why.”

“I swear he’s vainer than a cockatiel sometimes, but his mother took it upon herself to make sure his self-esteem scrapes the floor. Horrible woman.”

“If I ever meet her, I’ll kick her in the kneecaps for him,” Lily said, earning herself a bark of laughter from James.

“I’d pay to see that,” Dorcas snorted. “I met her once when I was a kid, and once was enough.”

“What’s her name?” Lily asked.

James bit his lip. “Walburga Black.”

Lily’s stomach dropped to her feet.

Lily was still thinking about their conversation as they set up camp in an abandoned cave lit by dim crystals that dripped condensation onto the ground. Walburga and Orion Black were notorious for exploiting workers and getting away with it due to their wealth; Lily had heard traders and woodcutters cursing their names in taverns more times than she could count.

But Sirius? Protective, reckless Sirius who made a point of cheering up the group whenever they needed it? It was hard to believe he was raised in a family like that. I suppose that’s the point, she thought as she spread her cloak over the damp moss and laid down. He’s not like then and they hate him for it.

Sixteen years old. When Lily was sixteen, her father taught her to use the largest saw he owned; at the same age, possibly the same time, Sirius had been thrown out of his family and sent across the continent. I still had a fucking bedtime, she realized just as she was about to doze off. The urge to hit Walburga Black with a chair increased.

Needless to say, Lily didn’t sleep well that night. She kept watch until sunrise, when James and Dorcas woke up and they agreed to follow the compass’ needle on the off-chance Dumbledore was actually trying to help them in his secretive way.

“I miss them,” James said out of the blue around a mouthful of ham, cheese, and bread when they stopped by an unnaturally large tree for lunch. “I miss them a lot.”

“Me, too,” Lily admitted. It was silly, but the sandwiches made her heart ache with homesickness. “The sooner we find the mysterious weakness, the sooner we can get back.”

“You know we’re friends when you don’t even have to clarify who you’re talking about,” Dorcas smiled weakly. The conversation dulled after that until they began walking again. “So, Lily, tell us about Bailey.”

“What about it?”

Dorcas shrugged. “Anything. The rest of us have known each other for years, but I don’t know much about you yet, beyond the fact that you can crush us all at board games.”

Lily laughed. “Well, it’s a pretty small place. I think you can see most of the town out the window of my mum and dad’s house.”

“You said your dad’s a merchant, right?” James asked, walking backwards to face them.

“A woodsman,” she corrected. “He travels to discuss lumber prices, though, which was why I was in Silvalith. He was supposed to go, but the mill called him in for extra shifts.” A sudden thought struck her and she slowed down. “If he had gone, he’d probably be dead right now. Huh.”

“Are you alright?” Concern laced James’ voice. “Lily?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m—I’m okay. It’s just weird to think about.”

“What do you do for fun?” Dorcas quickly changed the subject. “When you’re not on life-or-death quests with a bunch of strangers, of course.”

“I don’t think any of you count as strangers anymore,” she said with a smile. “I climbed trees a lot when I was little and went on long walks. The woods are so different for each season and in winter, the snow is perfect for playing in. All the neighborhood kids used to get together and build forts for snowball fights.”

“I wish we got snow,” James mused.

“Frystmark is hoarding it,” Dorcas joked. “We should get Remus to ship some to us in the winter.”

“You don’t get snow?” Lily supposed she should have known that, but it seemed impossible. Winter was for hot cider, snowmen, and fuzzy socks, not sunshine.

“No,” Dorcas said. “There’s a running joke that Hisanon is where the sun goes when it’s nighttime in other places. We take it from you all since you don’t appreciate it, but that means we don’t have real seasons.”

“We have seasons back home.” James tilted his head slightly as he thought. “No snow, but there’s a lot of wind and rain off the water. Springtime is the best.”

“I love autumn,” Lily said. “It’s strange not being home to see the leaves change this year.”

“Hopefully we’ll be home before winter sets in,” Dorcas said. She paused for a moment. “I forget what day it is, actually.”

“Oh, fuck, Sirius and I were just talking about this.” James scrunched his nose up and counted softly under his breath, frowned, and counted again. “It’s been seven days since the attack.”

“What?”

“I call bullshit,” Lily said immediately. “No way.”

“We spent one night in Hemgard, one in the next town, two with your mum, one with Dumbledore, and one in that cave.” James held up his fingers. “Six nights, seven days.”

“It feels like a month,” Dorcas said. Lily nodded in agreement. “Too much has happened in too little time. We need to keep it to one disaster per day, alright?”

In the distance—but not nearly far enough away in Lily’s opinion—something boomed. “You had to jinx it,” James sighed. “Trees again?”

“Gryphons, probably.”

“Let’s run first and discuss later,” Lily suggested, keeping her eyes steadily in the direction the noise had come from. It sounded like heavy footsteps and she really didn’t want to know what kind of creature was big enough to do that. “Go!”

They took off at a sprint, keeping in a close group with their weapons at the ready. She could hear the galloping footsteps growing closer; it was almost as if a herd of deer were all running at the exact same time. It’s the flesh-eating deer, her terrified brain supplied. All the stories are true.

“Holy fuck!” James yelped as he looked over his shoulder. Lily glanced backward and saw a bristly hilltop charging through the underbrush at full speed—no, not a hill. A boar.

“Don’t climb the trees!” she shouted. “We can’t outrun it, but it’ll knock down anything we can climb!”

“Those aren’t normal tusks!” Dorcas’ voice cracked with fear. “Is that metal?”

“Let’s not find out!”

“If we can’t outrun it and we definitely can’t beat it in a fight, what the hell are we supposed to do?” James nearly tripped over a large root and Lily’s heart stuttered in her throat. She couldn’t bear to lose any of them, and not just because of the promise she made Sirius. All six of those wild, chaotic, wonderful people were her friends now, and she would keep them safe if it was the last thing she did.

Come on, come on, there has to be something we can use, she thought desperately as she scanned the jungle. Her chest and legs burned from running and she could hear the others panting heavily. Finally, she saw it. “Over there!”

“What?” Dorcas shrieked.

“Would you rather get gored?”

“We’ll die either way!”

“It’s less of a guarantee here, now jump!” Rather than waiting for an answer, Lily shoved her axe into its place, grabbed her hand, and vaulted over the edge of the ravine.

Things got a little hazy after that. The initial drop was short, maybe four feet, before they hit a claylike outcropping that cracked beneath their combined weight and sent them skidding down a steep slope of pebbles, dust, and prickly plants. She lost her hold on Dorcas, but she could hear two different voices alternating between panicked yelling and grunts of pain when they hit a rough patch. The slope came to a sudden end and Lily braced herself for the fall—she hit the rushing water below with a splash, and then everything went dark.

Being underwater was a strange experience. It was quiet, save for the low rumble of the source waterfall that sent her tumbling through the current like a smooth stone. Her senses were completely overwhelmed—her ears popped, her vision was murky, and the only thing she felt was cold. The tightness in her chest snapped her out of her shock and she struggled to the surface, breaking through with a gasp.

“James! Dorcas!” she called frantically. Lily had waded in ponds and the lazy stream by her house, but she wasn’t the strongest swimmer. To be honest, she had not thought there would be water at the base of the hill.

James surfaced with a spluttering cough, saw her, looked around, then immediately ducked under the water again. She bobbed further down the river and hoped with everything in her heart that her half-baked plan hadn’t accidentally killed two of her friends.

There was a splash behind her and she turned as quickly as she could, only to see James and Dorcas struggling against the current. “Head for the bank!” James yelled, leaning back and kicking his feet. He was holding Dorcas tight to his chest; she looked terrified. “Lily, hurry!”

Lily paddled as hard as she could until she reached a tangle of grass and used it to haul herself out of the river, where she collapsed on her stomach. James splayed on his back on the dry earth and tried to catch his breath while Dorcas coughed up water. “I can’t swim,” she managed, glaring at Lily.

“Sorry. Didn’t think there would be water.”

James’ head lolled to the side and he squinted at her. “You jumped over a cliff not knowing what was below it?”

“In my defense, there was a fucking huge boar with metal tusks chasing us down.”

Dorcas’ coughing turned into giggles, then full-blown laughter; Lily and James followed suit until they were all slightly hysterical with joy and relief. “We just did that,” she gasped. “Let’s never do it again, alright?”

“Deal,” Lily and James said in unison.

“Our stuff must be soaked,” Lily groaned, peeling the bag off her back. She knelt and emptied the contents of the rucksack onto the grass, only to see they were completely dry. “Or…not.”

“Woah.” James scooted closer. “You were underwater, right?”

In lieu of an answer, Lily gestured at her soaked clothing and dripping hair. “Well, he is a wizard,” Dorcas said. “Making a waterproof bag would not be the craziest thing he did.”

“That’s true. Where do we go from here?”

Lily spread the map out again, using river rocks to hold the edges down. “This doesn’t make any more sense than it did yesterday.”

“Hang on.” Dorcas bent over the map and traced the thick lines, then looked around them. “Yes, it does. Does this look familiar to you?”

Lily looked at where she was pointing, then glanced around the clearing. The wobbly shape on the map was the exact same as the waterfall in the distance. “Oh.”

“Which means this…” Dorcas traced down the squiggle and tapped the page. “Is about where we are.”

“So where are we supposed to go?”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait.” James poked Dorcas on the shoulder. “It’s ‘in the compass rose’, right? Four corners. Four countries.”

Dorcas’ eyes widened. “You don’t think…”

Lily scanned the map until she saw an intersection. “That’s where the borders meet, isn’t it?”

“The Middle Kingdom.” James touched one section, then moved clockwise. “Marajis. The Wildland. Silvalith. Four countries that meet at one point.”

“That’s where we need to go,” Lily breathed. “I’m so glad you two are on my team.”

“It’s not far, come on!” James and Dorcas helped her stuff Dumbledore’s items back in the rucksack and they hurried away from the river; Lily could already feel the sun’s heat drying her clothes as they hiked through the tangled plants.

The landscape grew more and more desolate as they drew closer to their destination. The earth, which had been mossy in their cave and drier than a desert outside of the forest, was the same color and texture as slate. The twisting plants were blacker than charcoal and just as brittle—it even smelled dusty. Dead. Leeched of all life. If a shadow had a scent, this was it.

The ground dipped as they neared the center; everything around it had been blasted smooth and shiny by some enormous force, and in the middle of the shallow pit laid a rusty dagger. It didn’t look special, and if Lily didn’t know better she would have dismissed it as a useless relic. “There it is,” she said, pointing to the blade.

James picked his way around broken stones and thorny plants. “Will it fit in the bag?”

“I don’t think you should touch it with your bare hands,” Dorcas said. “Your track record with magic things so far has not been great.”

“It was one comment,” James grumbled, though he did refrain from grabbing the dagger. “That doesn’t count as a track record.”

“Still.” Dorcas stepped behind Lily and reached into the bag, then emerged with the piece of fabric. “This should work.”

Carefully, James reached down with the cloth and wrapped King Riddle’s weakness up.

As soon as the dagger left its place, the ground began to shake and a mighty roar grew around them. “Really?” James yelled as he clambered back up to them and shoved the package in Lily’s bag. “Not this again.”

“We should aim for Hisanon!” Dorcas shouted over the howling. “We’ll find help there and it's safer than the Middle Kingdom!”

Neither Lily nor James was particularly inclined to argue, so they followed Dorcas’ lead, stumbling over debris and the gale force winds. The forest teemed with life, but they didn’t stay to find out what it was and instead crashed through the underbrush until they emerged in a stretch of land similar to the desert they had arrived in.

“That way!” It was too loud to hear Dorcas’ words, but her mouthed message was clear as she pointed toward a long line of grass a few hundred feet away. The tumult grew as they ran; Lily was sure something was following them out of the trees and she focused her attention on the pounding of her feet against the ground instead. Do not look back.

As soon as they tumbled into the grass, the air turned fresh and the trembling ground stilled. Lily took a deep breath of the sweet breeze; she had not realized how stale the air of the Wildland was until it was gone. James whistled lowly next to her when he looked back from where they had come. Above the treetops, gryphons flapped and screamed, and the whole place looked like it was rioting against an unseen enemy.

“I’m glad we got out of there,” he muttered.

Just as Lily was about to agree, the bag grew unbearably hot against her back. She untangled its straps and practically threw it to the ground; it rattled and glowed for a moment, then went quiet. She poked it carefully with her toe. When nothing happened, she untied the drawstring and let the contents spill out.

The dagger steamed as she peeled the covering away and all three of them gasped. The rusted, corroded metal was shiny and pure silver now, revealing an intricate snake with perfect emerald eyes curled up along the hilt and a scale pattern decorating the base of the blade. “It’s pretty, but I still don’t want to touch it,” she said, folding the cloth over it once more.

“Turn around and put your hands up!” a stern voice commanded behind them. Lily whirled around and snatched the bag up for protection as three sturdy horses came trotting toward them. Their riders wore leather armor and had their bows trained on their group. “Dorcas?”

The lead rider removed her helmet and dismounted, slinging her bow over her back. “Hestia!” Dorcas ran forward to nearly tackle her in a hug.

“I thought you were dead,” Hestia said, pulling away to search her for injuries. “The news of the attack on Varghal came in two days ago and we’ve been patrolling the borders ever since. What happened?”

“Silval soldiers and mercenaries raided the city in the middle of the night. They kidnapped the royals and the rest of us barely got away with our lives.” The horses nickered and danced nervously.

“Is Marlene alright?” Hestia asked.

Dorcas paused. “I hope so. We had to split up two days ago.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“She’ll be alright. Is there a place we can talk about this is private?”

Hestia nodded and looked back to Lily and James. “Can either of you ride a horse?” At their nervous expressions, she nodded toward two of her companions. “You can ride with Alice and Emmeline, and Dorcas will ride with me. You should get comfortable; it’s a bit of a trek.”

Technically, Lily had been less comfortable before, but horseback riding was getting high up on her list. Emmeline was a talented rider and knew everything about the history of the western lands of Marajis while Alice was chatty the whole way about nothing in particular. It was hilarious seeing James wrap his arms around the waist of a girl who was at least six inches shorter than him while he tried not to slip off the saddle.

“Where are you from?” Emmeline asked as the sun began to set. The high grasses turned a million shades of copper and rose; not for the first time, Lily wished she was an artist so she could remember it forever.

“The Middle Kingdom, up north in a town called Bailey. You?”

Emmeline pointed to a distant shadow of buildings. “That’s my hometown, Fansen.”

“Vance?”

“Fan-sen,” Emmeline repeated. “The ‘n’ is soft.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, a lot of people get it wrong the first time. What are you doing so far away?”

“It’s…kind of a long story. Are you one of Dorcas’ friends?” Up ahead, Dorcas and Hestia were talking in low voices.

“The four of us learned to ride together,” Emmeline explained with a fond look on her face. “Hestia became captain of the border guard a year ago and specifically requested that Alice and I be on her team. Dorcas was a little busy, as you can imagine.”

“I bet,” Lily laughed. “It must be nice to work with your friends all the time.”

She nodded. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. We miss Dorcas, though.” There was a moment of hesitation before her muscular shoulders sank. “We were so worried about her.”

“We were lucky,” Lily said. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could still smell the acrid smoke of the wall in flames, still hear the screams and the howling of wolves. “Really, really lucky.”

“Is it true? Varghal was burned? The rumors are vague at best and—”

“Yeah.” A lump rose unbidden to her throat as she remembered the beautiful frozen lake and the mountain fortress with its people who welcomed them with open arms. “It was the middle of the night, there was no warning. They lit the gate on fire and killed anyone they came across. Remus—he’s the prince who helped us escape—he went back and said there was nothing left.”

Emmeline swore under her breath. “I’m going to assume you three were in the Wildland for a reason, but I’m not going to ask why. I’ll help you find whatever you need.”

“Thank you.”

A sharp whistle pattern drew both their attention and Lily’s jaw dropped. Ahead, a magnificent city rose against darkening sky, lit by a thousand torches that made it glow like a miniature star. “Welcome to Hisanon,” Emmeline said, sounding rather smug. “Capital of Marajis.”

Lily and James were a little wobbly once they dismounted the horses, but Dorcas was steady on her feet and nearly bouncing with joy to be home. Lily could relate—entering Bailey after the chaos of the previous days had been the best feeling in the world. “Hestia and I are going to talk for a while, but I think you two should get some sleep,” she said as they stopped outside a large building.

“You need to rest, too,” Lily protested. “We can do it as a group in the morning.”

Dorcas gave her a gentle punch on the arm. “Princess, remember? I have a lot to get done, but I promise I’ll sleep. We’re safe here, don’t worry.”

“Sleep well, Dorcas, and good luck.” James exhaled slowly as she walked away arm-in-arm with Hestia. “And then there were two.”

“And then there were two,” Lily echoed.

“I really hate splitting up.”

“Same.”

Alice appeared from the stables with Emmeline behind her. “We have some rooms for you to stay in,” she said with a bright smile. “And food.”

Lily had never followed someone faster and probably never would again. The guest rooms were cozy and cool against the rippling heat of the prairie outside and she reveled in the change; now that her clothes were dry, it was easier for her to overheat. Emmeline and Alice kindly refrained from asking them any more questions until they were done shoving bread and meat into their mouths—Lily would never be a picky eater again, holy fuck—and pointed them toward the washroom when they were done.

Rivers were nice and did an amazing job of getting into every nook and cranny, but there was no feeling like scrubbing down in clean, fresh water that wasn’t full of silt. Lily stayed in the tub until the water was cold enough to make her shiver before rebraiding her hair and slipping into loose pajamas with an intricate pattern.

“Where’s James?” she asked when she entered the room again and found Emmeline snacking on some of the dates.

“His room is next door,” she said casually, then did a double take. “It’s okay, you’re safe here. The doors aren’t locked, so you can go wherever.” Lily managed a half-smile and settled back into the cushions. Emmeline’s face softened. “You really aren’t comfortable apart, are you?”

“I haven’t slept alone in over a week,” she confessed, a little embarrassed. “In almost every place we’ve stayed, we’ve been attacked or forced to split up. I’m already worried about the others.”

“Who else was with you?”

“Marlene, her friend Peter, James’ best friend Sirius, and Remus, the prince of Frystmark. They’re somewhere in the Middle Kingdom right now, I think.”

“Dorcas has mentioned Remus before. They’ve been friends for ages.”

Something in Emmeline’s tone prickled at the back of Lily’s neck. “You don’t like him?”

“Never met him.”

A realization dawned on Lily. “You like Dorcas.”

“No,” Emmeline said far too quickly. “She’s engaged.”

“To Marlene, not Remus.”

“I know,” she snapped. “She’s one of my best friends, after all.” Some of the defensiveness melted away. “I’m one of her bridesmaids.”

“I’m sorry.”

Emmeline shrugged. “I’d rather be there as a friend than not at all, you know? The worst part is, Marlene is awesome and they love each other so much. I’m happy for her, but…”

Lily let her trail off before reaching over and gently squeezing her arm. “Hey. You’re an amazing woman and anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“You’ve known me for five hours.”

“And in that time you’ve carried me on your horse back to your city, told me about your hometown, and let me take my first real bath in about three days. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Thanks, Lily.” Emmeline looked up from her hands to meet Lily’s eyes. “I meant what I said earlier. If there’s anything you need for your quest, I’ll help you get it. Sorry, I should probably let you sleep now.”

“See you tomorrow?”

“You bet.”

Lily smiled and Emmeline headed back into the hallway, leaving one torch burning happily in the holder by the door. The sheets were soft as Lily slipped into the bed, but she stared at the ceiling for an indeterminate amount of time as the sound of the city outside slowly died down. She tried closing her eyes, counting sheep, and about a million different sleeping positions before giving up and padding into the hall.

She knocked on the door to the right of her own as quietly as she could, just in case. It swung open a few moments later; James looked exhausted and wide awake at the same time. “Hey.”

“Hey. Can I come in?” He held the door open further in answer and they sat next to each other at the foot of his bed. “You stopped flirting with me.”

“What?”

“Before we got to Dumbledore’s you were insufferable,” she teased. “But since then, you’ve been awfully normal about it.”

James snorted and flopped onto his back. “You seemed uncomfortable. You’re awesome and strong and funny, and I’d rather be your friend than chase you away by being some gross guy.”

“You’re not gross.” The bed bounced as she stretched out as well. “Awkward, yes. A little over the top, definitely. Mildly annoying at times, but never gross.”

“Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” A few beats of silence hung between them. “I’m sorry about Sirius.”

James exhaled and his nose whistled a bit—Lily was glad the shadows hid her smile. “I’m more worried about him than anything. It’s my job to protect him.”

“I’m a hundred percent sure he thinks it’s the other way around.”

“That’s just who he is. Sirius finds someone he cares about and goes all in, and it’s gotten him bruised more than once. It’s just…he’s never left me before and I’ve never left him, either. Six years and the only time we’re apart is the councils.”

“Why did he come this year?”

There was a light laugh next to her. “My parents thought he’d keep me in line.” Lily chuckled at the idea and soon they were both muffling their laughter into their hands. “Even though that was doomed to fail, I’m glad he was there.”

“Same here.” Lily bit her lip. “Can I stay here tonight? It feels weird being alone now.”

“Absolutely. I can sleep on the floor if you want?”

“Please don’t, I’d feel bad.”

“Alright.” They both curled up under the covers and for about ten seconds, the only sound was their breathing. “Night, Lils.”

“Night, James.”

When Lily awoke, a cool breeze from the window ruffled her hair and the sounds of a bustling city filled the air. James was on the other side of the bed, his arms and legs spread at strange angles in contrast to her own tight ball. She stretched her legs out, relishing in the pop of her back and the heavenly mattress.

“James.” She poked him on the shoulder. “James, wake up.” When he didn’t budge, she shook him lightly. “James.”

He snorted and batted her hand away. “Five more minutes.”

Lily rolled her eyes as she climbed out of the bed and wandered back to her own room. There was no harm in letting him sleep, but they would have to leave at some point today if they wanted to have half a chance of catching up to the rest of the group. Emmeline knocked on her door a few minutes after she had finished washing her face with a neat pile of clothes in her arms.

“They’re clean,” she said as she handed them over. The rough green and brown fabric of Lily’s vest and pants had never been so vibrant, and she saw that someone had stitched the torn edges of her sleeves with a careful hand.

“Thank you.” As silly as it might be, Lily was grateful to have a small piece of home with her in such a new place. She had never been so far from Bailey before. “James is still asleep, sorry.”

Emmeline shrugged. “I can dump some cold water on him if he’s not up in twenty. Dorcas is in the dining hall if you wanted to meet up.”

By the time Lily was done getting dressed, James was awake and rustling around in the room next door. “I’m heading to the dining hall to see Dorcas, d’you want to come with me?”

“One second!” There a thump and a muffled curse and James appeared in the doorway a moment later with his hair sticking up at all angles. “Alright, let’s go.”

The dining hall was not hard to find—a long line of people stood outside the door and Lily and James only made it through because Alice recognized them. At the end of an intricately-carved table, Dorcas was up to her elbows in paperwork. “Morning,” Lily said as she took a seat next to her. “Did you sleep?”

“I did.”

“How long?”

Dorcas glanced up at her and cracked a smile. She looked worried, but rested. “Well enough. Hestia made me go to bed just after ten and I slept until eight, which was nice.”

“Excellent.”

“I was thinking we’d leave around eleven?” Dorcas suggested as she turned back to her work. “That way I can get a bit done here while you two pack our stuff. Emmeline and Alice can help you find good horses.”

James, who had taken the seat on her other side, went ashen. “We’re riding horses again?”

“Unless you’d like to spend eight or nine days walking, yes. Don’t worry, you’ll pick it up easily enough.” Dorcas shuffled through a sheaf of requests and sighed. “I’ll meet you in the stable at ten-fifty, okay?”

“See you then.”

It was surprisingly easy to find horses for Lily and James to ride, even though as they had no prior experience whatsoever. The horses of Hisanon were well-trained and absolutely beautiful—Emmeline shone with pride as she talked about their incredible stamina and speed. “If I had to wager a guess, I’d say you’ll be near Bailey in three days with these horses,” she said, absently stroking a mare’s black-and-white nose as it nuzzled her for treats.

Riding was the real challenge; she nearly fell off several times despite the sturdy saddles and Alice’s close instructions. In the two hours they had to prepare, she learned more than she would ever have dreamed of about proper techniques and how to hold her seat. Her thighs and lower back ached when she finally dismounted to help James load their supplies.

“Good choices,” Dorcas said as she entered the stable and made a beeline for a golden horse at the end of the stable. She murmured to it softly for a moment and it whinnied softly back, nosing at her face and hands for more pats. It followed her out of the stall without any lead and Lily marveled at the ease that settled into Dorcas’ whole posture. “Ready to go?”

“Are you?”

“I’ll be back,” she said, casting a glance over the city outside. “At the end of this, we’ll all go back home and things will be better.”

As they set out northwards at a steady walk, Lily found herself believing that more and more.

#james potter #lily evans #dorcas meadowes #dorlene #jily #hestia jones #emmeline vance #alice longbottom #harry potter #fanfic #my fanfic #axe and sword #medieval au #marauders

1 note · View note

edge-of-bizarre · 6 years ago

Note

please more info on your dnd au!

Astrid is a paladin (or fighter), human, she wields an axe and wears shining armor she takes very good care of, she is here to protect those around and keep her home safe and originally was entrusted to be the guard to Hiccup, their adventure together started off rocky, but they are good friends and later on pursue a lil romance. Astrid is more charismatic and often is the one to do the talking, though the twins have her beat there. Astrid would be a cool monk tho…. but she needs her frickin axe!!!!!!

Hiccup is a wizard, half elf (stoick’s a human, valka is an elf, perhaps a druid?) had to beg his father to allow him to go to a special academy so he could learn, Stoick was hesitant but saw his talent and finally gave in (stoick is…. a fighter? perhaps barbarian idk, hes a folk hero baby) Stoick instrusted Hiccup to Astrid, who was to escort her ward to the academy, but obvi it didn’t go as planned and Hiccup would rather pursue a life of adventuring, hes very powerful, he has a familiar named toothless that usually takes the form of a black cat who wraps around his shoulders in his hood, or sometimes a crow or raven

Fishlegs is a knowledge domain cleric and the groups healer. He is a followed of Oghma, he has a mace, and he is here to LEARN. He is often found transcribing events/writing down information for his temples libraries. Canon fishlegs has a tattoo, so idk lets give him a tattoo of major protection, it’ll help? He began his journey for the purpose of collecting knowledge and learning, he does teach when he can, and he did not sign up to be part of this rag tag team but here he is reviving snotlout for the third time today

Snotlout is a BARBARIAN, a five feet of RAGE, because he’s a barbarian, he has the highest constitution, he can take an absolute beating and keep it coming. He also is shirtless/doesn’t war armor or light armor if he’s feeling a little zesty. Snotlout is a half-orc, so he can pop back up to 1 hit point aka snotlout dies for a second then jolts back up. He has little tusks, tiny tiny, and has little charisma…. he’s not… doing super well… he’s here for a good time, not a long time, he has a giant hammer and flirts with EVERYONE in every town they go to. never once worked tho

Tuffnut is a tiefling bard, his elaborate stories make you wonder how much is real…. He distracts targets while his sister picks their pockets, though it doesn’t work all the time and that’s how he lost part of his horn. He can insult you so hard your head will explode. Tuffnut plays a variety of instruments he has stolen, though more notably he uses a lute that he sometimes drinks out of, it’s very nasty.

Ruffnut is a tiefling rogue, her dexterity…. is… ridonk. silent and deadly, she primarily uses knives and stealth. If something is lost, ruffnut probably has it, as she takes at least one thing from each friend and then regifts them in special moments. Ruffnut is much cleaner than her sibling, though its hard to see blood and dirt on how much black she wears. Tuffnut wears gaudy clothing that look ok from far away but up close… its just tattered and nasty.

#httyd #dnd au #fishlegs #tuffnut #ruffnut #snotlout #hiccup #astrid #hiccstrid

57 notes · View notes

alittlepieceofwarcraft · 6 years ago

Text

Little Boy With No Crown

Year 34

Tahiliana gazed out across the vast glistening ocean waters across Zandalar. Clear waves gently lapped against the docks, bobbing nearby fishing boats up and down in a steady rhythm. Fabled tales of this land were told around small tribal campfires: stories of a giant gold pyramid marking Dazar’alor’s territory for all to spy from miles away; mighty warriors atop great beasts patrolling the streets; expansive jungles with trees so tall in such immeasurable numbers that at time you could walk through for a day and not see the sky through the leafy canopy tops. It was all true. She glanced toward the west. Somewhere far away, her mother and grandmother would be within their camp, attempting to keep the peace among her tribe. She grinned. Her grandmother’s no-nonsense attitude would see well to that and she feared not for their wellbeing. It was only the outcome of this war that would reveal their fates. Scanning the streets, she grimaced at the sight of Horde flags propped up against hangings baring the Forsaken sigil.

Even further west lay a dead city. It was equally as mythical to her as Dazar’alor once was. It too had boundless bark-skinned colossals, some with homes built in high above the ground. She knew a grand marble temple once stood there, carved with emeralds and sapphires that glinted off the full moon their people adored. She would tell no one, but each time an elf had fallen at the hands of her party, she’d whispered a silent prayer in her mind.

“Bwonsamdi be kind ta ya soul,” she begged, “I fight in dis war for me people. Forgive me for what happened to ya’s.” Zen'tabra, a great Druid of her people, had often spoken of what she’d heard of World tree and the city it cupped in its branches from a fellow kaldorei druid in arms. From his words alone, she referred to it fondly, as if druidism itself had its heart buried deep in its soil.

Tahiliana only become aware of her soured expression when she noticed a male Zandalari giving her an intrigued look. Though trolls did not adorn themselves in exquisite robes by tradition, the richest selected the fine fabrics and stitched elaborate gold designs into it to symbolise their wealth. This troll was one of them. Shirtless, his golden tattoos curved around his body, over a defined torso, around muscled arms and down to his hips where they trailed under a loin cloth. It was of a rich bronze-tone silk, elegantly patterned as thread etched a bright yellow trim and a silver engraved knife hung off to the side of it, diamond-like jewels set within its case.

“Did ya get bit by a bug or sometin’? Ya face be like a babby who just spoiled.” She scowled.

“Didn’t ya mamma tell ya its rude to stare?” She snapped. He laughed in response and she gritted her teeth.

“Ya be a sharp one at dat.” He leaned against a nearby crate. “Ya not be from around dese parts. Ya be of de Darkspear.” A smirk played about on his face as his lips curled around two sharp tusks.

“What of it?” Tahiliana retorted. His smile remained unwavering as he haughtily stretched his arms wide, as if to highlight the entire city as his own.

“Must be a mighty big change to be in such a city instead of ya own little island, livin’ in huts an’ sleepin’ on skins instead of a house an’ warm bed. Tradin’ meat instead of havin’ gold and havin’ a king instead of a chieftan.” She snarled, the transparent superiority irradiating from him like a foul stench. Such arrogance.

“We be little but we be strong. Our chieftan fought and died against demons while ya hid in ya city, an’ counting ya gold. An’ I see no crown on ya head, little boy wid big words. Ja’da.” Again, he gave an amused cackle and relaxed back into the crate.

“De small Darkspear has fire! I see why such a small tribe survived as long as dey did if dey all have as much fight in der battles as you do with ya tongue.” She frowned even more, unsure whether to take the compliment as just that, or another condescending back-handed jab. He cocked his head to the side. “So does de fiery girl have a name?” Her expression turned to a narrowed-eye look of wariness, rolling them slightly.

“Da ya always antagonise a female before ya try to feel her ku’ca?” He chuckled.

“I be havin’ a feelin’ ya can take it an’ be givin’ it back some more.” He let his face soothe from the arrogant facade to one of a more genuine interest, what she thought was a gesture of goodwill. “What I be callin’ da firespitter?” She exhaled sharply as a pause passed before answering.

“Tahiliana. Daughter of Ulga and Zen’tec of da Darkspear Isles.” His face remained as it was but eyes brightened just a little.

“It be good to meet ya, Tahiliana of de Darkspear Isles. I be Ajani, son of Jaqweshia and Bosede of Dazar’alor.” Her face remained fairly uninterested. While the boasts of Zandalar’s majesty rang true, the conceited nature of many of its residents was far less welcoming. This wasn’t the first time her Darkspear heritage had been brought up in an intention to offend or belittle and she doubted it would be the last. Though she suspected this troll’s motives were far more than mere bragging rights. Nevertheless, her boat was near ready for departure.

“Well, ya best be tellin’ Jaqweshia’jin that she should be tellin’ ya it’s rude to stare and strut like a peacock,” she mused as she turned to gather her belongings from the dock. A familiar laugh echoed from his mouth.

“Ya be an interestin’ one. De Zandalari gals be flittin’ about widout a backbone an’ it seems like ya got more spine dan any of our direhorns be havin’.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Ya be a confusin’ one. Perhaps our Darkspear males should be havin’ talks about courtin’ wid ya.”

“I’d rather learn from ya, miss fiery tongue.” Tahiliana gave an amused face back. No, not quite smiling but not scowling either. She carefully stepped into the boat and its captain began slowly rowing it out to sea.

“Ya dream on, no-crown lil boy!” She called, not looking back but sure he was giving a delighted smirk to her response.

*Ja’da: an unintelligent person.

*Ku’ca: Slang for breasts.

*’Jin: Chieftain or Elder, added as a suffix; a term of respect.

#wow #World of Warcraft #zandalari #zandalar #zandalari troll #darkspear #darkspear troll #vol'jin #king rastakhan #princess talanji #BFA #battle for azeroth #oc #fanfic #rp #roleplay #wow rp character blog #wow rp #troll

26 notes · View notes

gorjee-art · 5 years ago

Text

Advice

This is just a short story I’ve made for classes and whatnot, but I ended up liking it as a story so, for good practice and a lil bit of fun, I give you this. Hope you like it! Feedback is appreciated!

Through twisting and turning hallways of a castle, echoed a voice of a giggling woman, as a light beams through the darkened tunnels, shining like a heavenly gateway. Inside was a royal bath, bubbles floated everywhere in the room with a ceiling revealing the night sky, lit by hundreds of warm candle lights dancing on the marble walls decorated with potions and bottles meant for cleansing, with a heated pool in the center, bubbling with suds. A slim woman with fair skin and hair made of a twilight sky swirling with pink and purples shimmering with starlight, cupped a handful of the foam as set her palms near her pink lips and blew to make the foam break apart into a cloud of bubbles to make it all float back in the skies above her. She giggled once again, seemingly amused with floating spheres above her, legs splashing in the warm waters, happy like a child to be observing what was above her. As she gazed, she lost herself in thought and had an idea to spin herself a tale.

“At last, the Sandman sets his stage, the scene framed with curves and twists of shimmering gold. Upon the rooftops, his foot placed on the tops of chimneys like a marble statue, the moon shining down on his porcelain skin, a spotlight made for the star, in a galaxy of his own childish mind.”

Her tone was almost as though she was entertaining an audience, her voice dancing with energy and whimsy, with her hands playing along with setting a scene; her body spoke more than her voice for what she told.

“A mischievous creature, his aura demanding attention for those who saw him in their dreams, staring with eyes filled with curiosity and whimsy for he meets them with his own maddened gaze, a Cheshire in their wonderlands, painting his own twisted versions of fairytale and myth. For the fools that dare come closer to the man encrusted with gold, would lose their minds as he once did. For the King of Dreams never liked the concept of order, but would rather prefer the beauty that is chaos, and as a man that starved affection and attention, with an innocent smile, he’d display his work with pride, with the feeble mind of humanity that couldn’t bear to look away. His subjects would forever be in his imagination, keeping him company as they slept their days away. Henceforth, he was known by his name, for they took his title as “The Sandman”, he kept his audience, that cherished the thought of Willing Madness and welcomed them with open arms, with a promise of tea, sweets, and tales told by bold men and a man of his word, many have awoken happily. For each morning, the curtain will close, leaving the King of Dreams to sit alone in his throne…”

She finished, her hands laid on her chest and bowing her head with her eyes shut closed as if to end a scene.

“Ahem,” Her purple eyes shot open to focus upon a young lady, clasped hands hiding away her blacked claws posed in the center of a golden Victorian dress, her face bitter as her frown revealed orange tusks. The pair locked eyes, the lady’s own amber stained spheres met of those belonging to a goddess.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything, Gorjina.”

Her voice was filled with grace and patience but a hint of strictness and a respect for her ancestor. That seemed to please to whom was “Gorjina Star Nebula”.

“Not at all, dear.” She said with a smile “What is it you need? Or, would you rather join me for a bath, you look…tense.” She eyed the maiden with a cunning grin, making it well known to her that she was teasing the girl’s stress ”Every girl needs a spa day these days, especially you, Norma.”

Norma rolled her eyes at the remark and raised a brow,

“I’m not interested, I just-“ she paused, a moment of silence to chase her train of thought. Her expression faded from an annoyed sneer to a look of worry but quickly shook it off to set back to a tone of professionalism “I just need some advice.”

Gorjina stared and questioned her moment of silence. Concerned, she waited to hear her darling descendant’s woes, raising her hand and fluttered it as if to say, ‘go on’. Norma neared closer to the pool her eyes jutting away from side to side.

“Be honest…” Her voice softened “ do you… consider me as an awful person? Are you haunting my mind as a punishment?”

The final word was said with hesitation, as if it was a truth never meant to be revealed, with guilty eyes she struggled to look Gorjina face to face. However, the goddess stared back with shock,

“She couldn’t have, she wouldn’t, she couldn’t be this…moronic” she thought to herself.

With eyes wide and jaw agape, she laughed a wicked laugh, it was so loud that it screamed up to the heavens above, Norma quickly shut her ears closed and her face crinkled with anger and fury, black smoke spilling out from her gritting teeth.

“What’s so funny? Why are you laughing?” Norma spat with clear insult.

“You are merely pathetic! Not a monster! If you so consider your misdeeds as sin, then I would be Lucifer himself! You haven’t killed, stole, lied in front of a crying child, do you even HEAR yourself?” Gorjina continued to giggle, gasping for breaths of air as she fanned her weeping tears away

“A punishment? A PUNISHMENT? How low do you think of me Norma? I would be insulted and turn you into a useless doll if wasn’t so funny. Please, you’re only but a serpent living in the caves on top of a pile of gold you so greedily keep to yourself, yet you never bother anyone and they don’t bother you. How could you be horrendous, Norma? Please, I’d ADORE to hear how your mind would come up with this idiocy.”

Norma continued to sneer and growl at the woman who lived in her mind, with anger blinding her judgement.

“Then why does no one come over? Why is everyone that surrounds me takes a good look at me and runs away in a couple of seconds, look at me Gorjina I’m a freak! They’ve hurt me! I’m nothing but a parasite amounting to NOTHING!” As the outburst ends Norma heaves for breath as the smoke subsides, with a few tears sliding down her cheeks.

“What is… my purpose? Who am I? What’s the point in anything? Was I really meant to be an artist? Does my life have meaning?“ “Slow down, dear.” She lets out a sigh, letting the tips of her fingers pinch the bridge of her nose as she processed the questions given, “Your purpose is achieving your goals and making yourself happier and more fulfilled as a person. You are Norma Kit; you decide what is the point. You’ve already gone this far, why stop doing what you love? And everyone has some meaning and impact on the Earth so long as you’re not some parasite more useless than the ground you’ve walked on, by which you’re not. What’s gotten into you? These are idiotic sentiments; they have no use for you.” She hissed.

Norma sighed, with a look of defeat she buried her face in her palms. With a flick of a wrist Gorjina fashioned her a couch before Norma could sit down. Gorjina with a feeling of pity, swam across to her broken apprentice to make sure that she is comforted. She rested her arms on the edges of the pool and looked up at her.

“That’s it, let it all out…” Gorjina said in a soft whisper, with a snap, her own sorcery made fictional “servants” come to life, made with odd shapes and colors they had no identity besides being what Gorjina meant for them to be. One pet Norma’s caramel hair to soothe her woes the other released the bow that kept her hair in a bun and tidied it up.

“You should cease your little habit of hiding away what makes you human, you could burst one day.”

“I know.” Norma said admittedly.

“Then why continue dear? I’m tired of reminding you that you are my flesh and blood, yes you may be strong, but you are also fragile, I’m here to aid my family and these choices you make in life are…”

Gorjina bit back her tongue and re thought her choice of wording

“…silly. Why close the doors of which are in front of you?”

“I don’t know.”

Feeling slight disappointment for her descendant, she sighed, rolled her eyes and asked a simple question.

“Why are you really here, Norma?”

“I just wanted to be sure, I suppose. It’s been getting to me again. It bothers me that these thoughts come around so…often. I needed just, an answer I can be sure is true.”

“It’s normal, darling. Humanity is known to push themselves and question life to do remarkable things. However, these questions about yourself will grant you these thoughts, and it has simple answers. So stop it before you waste anymore of my time.” She said with a huff and a raised nose, as she turned her back to Norma, sinking into the bubbling water submerging her body. The servants disappeared with her, fading into colorful bits of shimmering smoke, as Norma realized this, she fell on to her knees to call for her.

“Wait, wait, wait! No, you get back here! At least tell me how I stop it!”

Gorjina stopped for a moment, and looked up at her young apprentice, raising her hand so her chin may rest on it, and with no amusement she asked:

“-And what do I get in return for this favor?”

Norma thought for a moment and reached for her ears, removing two pearl earrings and set them in the palm of her cupped hands. “Here, you can have them. Just fix me.”

Gorjee stared at what she put in place, chuckling to herself, “I’m afraid I can’t accept your offer.”

“What?! But these are real pearls! Don’t bail out on this!”

“Oh, I know they are, and they are quite lovely,” She raised her hands from the water to shut Norma’s cupped hands, “but you need to keep them.”

“I’m…confused.”

“You need to keep those that simply cannot have a price. That should end your troubled thoughts. Look how you gave them away with no thought, no love for these lovely treasures. So desperate to let someone fix you, when the answer was right in front of you.” After a bit of thought Gorjina raised a brow and chuckled. “Besides, dear. I’m an artist.” With a quick flick of a wrist and a sudden puff of smoke, she was covered in encrusted jewels, pearls, gems, and treasures alike. “I can make my own, don’t you know…?”

“But- But you- I.”

Gorjina quickly hushed Norma, “To put this simply, you focus on those that don’t desire your presence, and you get hurt by it. So you hide away to a place that you believe no one will ever harm you, when your mind is your worst enemy. Thus, I stay here and you’re not alone, and many of us would be delighted to help you with your journey of life, and I’m afraid you don’t have much time as you think you do. You’re fragile, stop making these gray hairs for yourself.”

Norma looked at her earrings and looked back at Gorjina with a smile and an eased expression, as Gorjina looked back all the same. Displaying a love only a mother can have for their child.

“Now shoo, I’ve done enough for you.” As Gorjina turned away and exited her bath, quickly covering herself in robes of silk, both looked up to see the moon starting to set and the sun rising with birds beginning to chirp their own songs.

“It’s time to wake up, dear. It’s going to be a beautiful morning” she chuckled, and snapped her fingers.

Suddenly, Norma was in a modern room, laying on her bed and staring up at the ceiling. No dress except for a t-shirt and hair a ratty mess she groggily, turned her head to look at her clock for it to be 10:34 am.

“Not so bad.” She thought to herself, with a few stretches and popping bones she sat on the edge of her bed to face her window. A beautiful day, as Gorjina had predicted…

“Meh.” she said with a gruff and closed the curtains and buried her face on the pillow with a smile.

“You’re an absolute disgrace, you understand that right?” her head echoed.

“Mm…you love me.”

The voice sighed and chuckled “You at least understood something, Norma.”

#original story #oc #gorjee #norma kit #gorjina star nebula #writing

4 notes · View notes