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icequeenbae · 4 years ago

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Desert Flower (m) Ch. 4 [fin] | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~2.1k (Chapter 4)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: Yaaay, the finale is here! ✨ Hope you won’t be disappointed [I know it’ll be something you don’t expect, but the end can also be a beginning, right?] Please let me know what you think, I had fun talking to you about the previous chapters!! And thank you for following this story all the way through. Looove 🖤🖤🖤

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove @usernameloaa @geniusloey

Chapter 4. The end of you and I [Finale]

Stepping out of the room the next morning, you felt like you were walking to the gallows. In a way, that would’ve been less devastating than the reality. The anticipation, or rather a bad feeling, settled in your gut from the moment you opened your eyes and made you feel sick to your stomach.

After declining an offering of food, you were escorted downstairs to a large space, which was essentially a parking lot, cars all around. The premises were dimly lit – some of the lights simply went out, some were flickering as if they were about to. It was mostly dull grey concrete, a few wide columns around the area, just like any underground parking would look. There were still quite a few vehicles left – EXO liked to have a good variety. Especially Baek- No, you didn’t want to go there.

If you were completely honest, it wasn’t like you hadn’t been in this place before. You’d spent quite some time down here when Baekhyun was trying to teach you a few car tricks for fun. Despite your unwillingness to recall any of that, you could almost hear his obnoxious laughter whenever you failed to disable the alarm or accidentally set it off and panicked. Yet now this place became wicked in your eyes due to the new context. Worse than any dungeon in this abandoned building.

Sat on a lonely chair, you had your wrists bound and scotch tape put over your mouth.

‘This is for your own good,’ Baëkhyun muttered as he placed it on you. ‘Just keep quiet and let it play out.’

Huffing, you looked away. Eyes wandering around, you took notice of the absence of windows in the area. They probably chose the most isolated place in the building, luring the opponent in here. Likely to block the exits as soon as they arrive.

You exhaled through your nose, wishing that the boys just didn’t show up. Not really expecting Baëkhyun to protect you in this case, you only hoped for Baekhyun to stay away and be safe. One thing you were sure of, was that your life was not worth that many others.

As you contemplated this scenario, a drop of water fell in your lap. Then another one.

You looked at the droplets in confusion. Then up – locating a spot on the ceiling that was leaking. The intensity increased with every drop, and when you lowered your gaze, you saw the water level rise quickly, creeping at the level of your ankles. This didn’t look like it could be caused by any leakage you could think of. It was like there was an invisible circle around you, that water couldn’t cross. Like you were sitting in a glass tube.

Breath hitching in panic, you fidgeted in your seat, trying to get out of the rapidly growing pool of liquid. You whimpered, drawing Baëkhyun’s attention, and as he saw your current state, he immediately turned to the leader.

‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘The sun is almost up. I don’t see a sign of our friends arriving,’ he shrugged, tapping at his watch.

‘Stop it,’ Baëkhyun snapped, hearing you squeak as the liquid reached your knees, rising above the ground unnaturally.

Were they going to drown you?

You tugged at your restraints in a poor attempt to free yourself, and Baëkhyun turned around, walking towards you decisively.

Until Chën stepped in front of him.

‘Get out of my face,’ Baëkhyun snarled, but his opponent only laughed.

‘Keep walking. If you want me to electrocute her before you’re done.’

A faint purple lightning bolt appeared around his right fist, and Baëkhyun’s eyes darkened further, sparks of red swirling in his orbs as he gathered his power in his hands. But the fight did not break out, as Sehūn walked between them nonchalantly, shoving them away from each other.

‘They’re here,’ he announced, taking his spot next to Suhø.

The water stopped climbing up, freezing at the level of your collarbones. It pressed down on you unpleasantly, holding you still, but it also allowed you to slowly start slipping your wrist out of the restraint. Baëkhyun left it a little loose, so taking it off was feasible, now that it was wet.

A rumble sounded from behind the farther wall where the entrance was, and a car came in, tires screeching. The yellow sports vehicle took a spot in the middle of the room, drifting and rotating a perfect 90 degrees. Then a van appeared, doing pretty much the same right behind it. The door of the latter flew open, and a blonde head appeared. You swallowed a lump in your throat. He was here, they were here. It was your fault.

Baekhyun’s eyes landed on you, and he examined your state, before eyeing the crowd in front of him and turning to Suhø.

‘Let her go. I’m here to trade myself in for her.’

Your own eyes went wide. Trade himself in? No, no, you could not allow this!

‘Mhm!’ You shook your head fiercely, trying to sound protesting with your mouth covered.

He met your desperate gaze, and his eyes looked so… remorseful, that you froze in place. Turning away, he continued.

‘I’ll surrender to you, but you have to let her go first.’

Suhø hummed, nodding seemingly in contemplation of this suggestion.

‘You know what, I have a better idea. Why don’t you all surrender, and then she walks free?’

He suddenly chuckled, looking Baekhyun in the eye. ‘Or she doesn’t.’

It was a split second later when you finally freed your wrists and ripped the tape off, ready to scream… But the sound didn’t come. It happened faster than you could register – you were underwater. Fully submerged now.

Struggling to float in the mass of liquid, you saw people around start moving. Baekhyun threw a ball of light in Suhø’s direction, presumably missing him since you were still drowning.

A shadow appeared out of thin air behind Baekhyun and you screamed desperately, losing oxygen and trying to rip yourself out of the suffocating pool of water. He reacted instantly to the ambush, as if he was waiting for it, and used his power to defend. On the other side, Baëkhyun blasted Chën in the back, to find his way to you, but got held up by Kāi, appearing now in his way. Your lungs were burning. Realizing that no one would make it to you on time, you lowered your eyes in resignation.

And then you saw it.

A small, maybe the size of an orange, bubble appeared at your feet and made its way up. It reached your face, and you took an incredulous breath. Another one appeared.

‘Sehun,’ you thought, breathing in and out as the bubbles reached your face.

As you were struggling to ventilate underwater, the whole battle was happening on the outside. There was fire, and blood, and flashes of red and white light…

You almost got startled when the water around you subsided, releasing you from its hold. Falling to your knees, you finally breathed in fully and looked around in confusion, noticing Junmyeon closing distance.

But before he reached you, a wall of fire appeared. Turning your head, you saw Baëkhyun, about to hoist you up, when he got an electric shock. Looking over his shoulder, you watched Chën approach.

‘B- Baëk-’ You stuttered as an arrow hit Chën in the side, making him slump to the ground from the impact and proving that Sehun was still watching over you.

‘Run to their van. Along that wall, behind the cars. I’ll give you cover fire as you go, okay? I got you,’ Baëkhyun instructed, tugging you up and shoving you forward. ‘Go!’

You ran towards the wall to your right, feet barely able to move after all you’d just gone through. But your instincts kicked in, giving you the adrenaline high you needed to function. Hitting the wall hands first to change direction, you then ran along the concrete surface, not looking back, only hearing blasts, and swearing, and fighting…

You almost made it to the van.

But the water in your sneakers made you slip as you jumped out of your cover to relocate to the safer spot, falling over and grabbing at your leg. Not thinking more than a moment about the pain, you got on all fours and began crawling towards safety.

‘Y/N, no!’ Baekhyun shouted, and you turned around, seeing lightning paint the room purple for a second before someone shielded you from its reach.

And then he fell on his knees.

Black leather and silvery white head.

‘B- Baëkhyun?’ You muttered as he pressed his hands to his eyes, thick streaks of blood instantly painting his long fingers red.

You gasped in horror, but before you could say a word, someone grabbed you by the waist and dragged you around the car you were hiding behind less than a minute ago.

‘Are you okay?’ Baekhyun looked at you, as he pressed his palms to your body, trying to assess your injuries hastily. ‘We need to retreat quickly, can you walk? Hold onto my shoulder, okay?’

You barely registered what he was saying, the horrible picture from seconds ago still imprinted in your vision.

‘Wait,’ you shook your head, getting up. ‘I need to help him!’

‘What? Y/N!’ You heard Baekhyun call out your name, trying to catch you by the wrist as you ran out into the ongoing fight, limping noticeably.

The silver light appeared, covering you as you reached your target.

‘Baëkhyun!’ You grabbed him by the shoulders. ‘Did it hit your eyes?’

He turned to you, eyes narrow as if his vision was blurry, blood running down his entire face. Your hand trembled as he grabbed onto it.

‘What the fuck are you doing back here?’ He snarled.

‘Come on!’ You urged him to circle the closest vehicle, as Baekhyun still blasted the other side of the parking lot with his light.

‘Leave me here and run, while they have the upper hand. This won’t last much longer,’ Baëkhyun gritted.

‘No,’ you stubbornly gripped his leather jacket.

‘Y/N!’ He raised his voice.

You stared at each other intensely for no longer than a second, and then you took a quick breath and leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in an abrupt kiss. Tasting metallic and salty from his blood and your tears, it was the most frenetic one in your life. As you broke it, he looked at you silently, eyes dark blue.

‘The next parked car is the one Baek used to teach me how to break in. It’s unlocked, so if you can make it inside, you’ll be able to drive off instantly. We’ll distract them, and you show us the other way out of here, okay?’

He slowly nodded, and you held his stare for another second.

‘Don’t die,’ you told him, getting up as Baekhyun appeared again and took your hand impatiently to finally get you into the van.

‘Go, go, go!’ He yelled at Chanyeol, who grabbed the wheel.

The tires screeched, and a black sports car drove off under your noses.

‘Yeollie, follow him! Baëkhyun knows the other way out,’ you shouted, catching a confused look from the driver, as well as others. ‘Trust me, okay? The one you came through is disabled in some way already.’

He nodded quickly, no time to hesitate, and went after the black car.

Jongin appeared in the crowded van, as an explosion sounded from behind.

‘That should hold them up a sec,’ he sneered.

‘Good job,’ Junmyeon praised, looking in the rear-view mirror, as the van sped up, making it out of the building right behind Baëkhyun.

He then fell back, diverting the attention of the cars that followed you, and driving in a different direction to lead them away. You were glued to the window, watching him being chased by another automobile, and wishing that he made it out safely. If he could manage that – with the horrific injury to his eyes, no less… It would be nothing short of a miracle.

The boys around you shouted something about the chase, and that they only needed to take a couple of turns to get to the parking lot where their other vehicles were waiting, so that they could individually shake the clones off their tails...

But you paid no attention to all the tactics. The world around you disappeared, narrowing down to just that one car, fading into the distance. Your bloodied hand left a red trace on the glass you were looking through.

‘Don’t die,’ you prayed, still tasting his blood on your lips as you watched the black vehicle disappear on the horizon. ‘Don’t you dare die, Baëkhyun.’

Masterlist

A/N: This is it! Thank you for reading this entire story <3 Probably not the ending you wanted, my beta was ready to throw hands too lol But it’s a pretty logical conclusion to this scenario, isn’t it? The OC is safe and reunited with Baekhyun... In any case, I hope you enjoyed this little journey and are willing to share your thoughts with me 💌

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #exowritersnet #byun baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fanfiction #icequeenbae fics #Desert Flower #baekbaёk #exo smut #x exo #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun

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ghost-at-the-masquerade · 3 years ago

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Taking the Day Off

Rated T, 3,724 words

Summary: Link and Riju have a (mostly) fun day out

A/N: This is not shippy and you are not welcome to read it as such

Stinging sand pelts any bit of exposed skin it can find and sings off their golden shinguards. Scorching desert air whips past their face, hot even with the shield of cooling magic drifting down from their headband.

Ahead of them, Riju’s hair whips wild and free. She laughs and lifts her fingertips into the air like she’s skimming them over the surface of a pond. No crown or jewelry today, just long, baggy clothes in brilliant red, purple and gold.

The two are headed northwest, out from the shadow of the city. Nowhere to go and no one to answer to. Riju guides them past the dangers of the desert with ease, even with its landmarks few and far between. Weaving between pillars on their way toward the ruins, slowing her breakneck pace only to regale them with the the names and glories of the weathered statues they passed.

Grand, statuesque heroines and goddesses uncommon to the mainland. Resonu, conquerer of sandstorms, who tricked the wind into hiding their secrets; Sabis, the goddess who cleaved the stone of the valley and allowed the Gerudo into the rest of Hyrule.

Link studies their crumbling faces and missing weapons, and they have to ask, “But why are they in such a state…?”

“It’s a kind of… symbolic thing. Allowing them to return to the land, in their own time.”

Still, the concern didn’t quite all fall away at first.

“Don’t worry, they’re not forgotten - statues are not how we record history.” She laughed and hurried Patricia along once again.

They reach the depths of the ruins, sheltered by the bleached bones of ancient things and the shadow of the highland.

“We believe they’re a migrant cousin of the Dodongo,” Riju says, running a reverent hand over one massive vertebrae, “native to Death Mountain and speculated to have a cousin in Hebra as well.

Their gut clenched at the very idea of something that big ever lurking in the sand, like the molduga. “What happened to them?”

“Of course the obvious answer is that they died off, but some of our scholars think they may have shrunk instead, as they moved out deeper into the desert.”

“Shrunk?” They signed with a laugh, one which Riju echoed.

“Yes, well, maybe that’s not the way to put it. If Hebra has anything in common with a volcano, it’s mineral-rich stone. But they wouldn’t have that here. So they became smaller to compensate the lack of food.”

“Why not just move back?”

She shrugged, “The ways of beasts are never truly known.”

At last they slowed to a stop under the watchful eye of a stone swordswoman. Unhooking from their mounts, they stuck their shields upright in the sand. Stepping up onto the hot sandstone of her base, they sat together in her shadow.

Riju stuck her canteen upright in the sand in front of her and pulled a bag from her hip, untying it and laying the cloth out on her lap. Inside lay her midday meal, for which she had packed a small spread of cooked meats, seared veggies and sweet wild berries.

Link pointed to the berries and asked, “Dalia’s garden?” before turning to dig through their own pouch, feeling through its endless depths for the right pocket.

“Yes, she was very excited for her first harvest and insisted I should have some. I still don’t know how she gets them to grow here, they rarely even survive the trip from the bazaar.” She says, biting into one in earnest. She spoke through a shameless mouthful, “They were my favorite as a child.”

They laughed softly and considered telling her she still was one, but thought better of it. Instead they pulled a hydromelon from their pouch, setting it between their feet. They drew a guardian sword with a bit of flourish, halving the melon with a satisfying ‘chunk’. Juice seeped down and disappeared into the sand. Link offered half to Riju, who tossed it to her seal. Patricia barked happily at the treat.

Flicking the juice from the blade, they put it away, returning the two to companionable silence as they watched the shimmering distance and the slow progression of shadows across the sands. Every now and again, a hot desert breeze flapped a bit of cloth or hair, a quiet third companion while they ate.

When she was done, Riju used a bit of her water to wash her hands of the berry juice. She dried them with the cloth that had held her lunch before securing it to her belt again, then stood and stretched her legs, watching Link with a lopsided smile as they opted instead to suck their fingers clean.

“That’s rather childish.”

“Says you.” They puffed out their cheeks and pointed at her, poking fun at her lack of manners earlier.

She gave a good-natured huff and didn’t respond further, tapping her foot.

They laughed, rising and prying both of their shields from the sand, handing Riju hers.

Riju called the seals, who had been playing and chasing each other just a little ways away. Clipping in, they were off again, headed further west after deciding it best to steer clear of the old Yiga base, even if it had been abandoned. Far enough to clear the boneyard before swerving south, staying far from the stone cliff that marked a known molduga nest. A dust cloud could be seen on the horizon.

The distant nest disappeared behind a dune and small clusters of cacti came into view. Link slowed their seal, dropping behind a few yards and pulling an ornate golden bow from their back. They nocked an arrow and let fly as they passed a row of cacti, piercing one of the fruits, the momentum ripping it from its root and sending it flying. They grabbed the arrow by the shaft as they passed, jerking it free and frowning at the sand caked into the juice that had leaked out.

Riju laughed at them as they caught up. “Watch this.” She said, and she called to Patricia, veering hard to the right, up a steep dune. She crested the mound and jumped, snagging one of the fruits mid-air.

She swerved lazily, proudly back and forth as she rejoined them.

“Not bad.”

“At least you can eat this one.” She said, tossing it to them.

They put both it and the one they had attempted to clean away before signing, “I think you can do better.”

“Oh do you?” She said, and when they nodded she continued, “I might have another trick up my sleeve.”

Before they could even goad her, she was moving fast up the next large dune and Link had to hurry to see what she would do next.

Riju launched herself sidelong into the air, snapping up her line so that she unhooked herself from Patricia, doing a quick spin. Amazingly, she stuck the landing, but failed to snap back into Patricia’s harness and the momentum left her spiraling into a face-full of sand.

When Link slowed to a stop beside her, she popped up on her hands and knees, smiling, “It actually almost worked! That’s the closest I’ve ever gotten!”

Link laughed and cheered, offering her a hand up. “Very impressive. But no fruit.”

She stuck her tongue out and kicked a bit of sand in their direction before walking back over to Patricia. Link just laughed again while they waited for her.

There wasn’t time to turn and see. And even if there had been, there wouldn’t have been time to run. The sand beneath them burst open, exploding upward in a great shower of earth and taking Link with it, while Riju was thrown aside.

Time slowed for a split second at the crest of her flight, hung sideways in the air while she tried to make sense of anything that was happening. Then Riju landed, hard, rolling only a few precious feet away. She whipped her aching head up and watched, wide-eyed, horrified as Link was snapped up in the mighty jaws of the molduga with a wet crack. The line severed, their terrified seal dropped back to the sand, where it bolted for the safety of town.

Riju scrambled away, the sand swelling as the beast returned to the depths and sent her tumbling head over heels. Faithful Patricia met her where she fell and Riju grabbed the harness, letting herself be dragged away.

There was little else but desert around her now - the empty expanse between the ruins and the uninhabitable. She urged Patricia back the way they had come, toward the ruins, as she could feel the beast rumbling somewhere below, following them and gaining speed. Her heart raced, her breathing came through clenched teeth, her legs stinging with pins and needles.

In what felt like just the nick of time, Patricia threw herself onto another square of sandstone, taking Riju with her. Girl and seal huddle together beneath the statue, Riju’s fingers balled in Patricia’s mane. For long moments, she hears nothing but her own pulse in her ears. The molduga’s trail stops just a few yards behind them.

This is not a known nest. The earth here is too hard, too uneven, too cool for an adult to move through. Though judging from the size of the trail it left, that was just it; it was a juvenile, more reckless and less predictable than its elders.

With that perspective on her situation, Riju surveyed the area, judging the distance between rocks, wondering if there was any way they could move between them fast enough, wondering how long and how far it would follow, wondering if she could ever get out. She pulled the sword from her hip, held it tight in a shaking fist. She could defend herself - but a sword was almost nothing against the tough hide of a molduga, even a young one. There was a system to taking one down, one she knew but had no tools for.

Even as she thought of her own survival, her final glimpse of her friend in the jaws flashed before her eyes. She whispers a prayer for them, but cannot bring herself to close her watering eyes.

Her breath catches in her throat as the thing’s shovel-jaw breaks the surface once more. Thrashing and squealing, plumes of dark smoke escaping with every cry. She dares not hope - but then there they are. There’s hardly a patch on them not bloodied, but they’re there, still moving, hands and feet braced precariously between jagged teeth, whole body shaking with the effort to keep the jaws from coming down. Riju jerks up onto one knee, but her legs give out under the weight of fear and helplessness. Even from here she can hear Link’s ragged, frightened breathing.

She blinks and the molduga’s mouth had snapped shut, but somehow, Link is on the other side, thrown out on the sand on their stomach. Her own voice sounds distance in her ears as she calls out to Patricia.

Staying as low to the ground as she can, she has Patricia whip her out in a sharp u-turn, just close enough to snag Link under the arms. There’s not a second to spare while the beast recovers, spewing the last of the smoke. She grits her teeth and has to adjust her footing, but she can manage the weight. The three tumble onto the stone in another heap. Somewhere behind them, the enraged molduga burrows.

Riju’s hearing comes back into sharp focus, wide eyes darting over her fallen friend as she pulls back from them. There’s too much, it’s too much, says the static in her brain as she scrabbles for their pouch, for whatever hope it might hold.

She stops when suddenly there’s a soft blue light that grows in strength. A thousand-thousand tiny threads that coalesce. She’s frozen as she watches, as she hears a soft voice, so faint she’s not quite sure she really heard it. The light and the threads envelop and sink into their figure. Link picks themself up, whole again. They touched their head gingerly, shaking it to clear their vision. Their face lit up when they saw her.

“Riju!” They croaked out, before switching back to signing, fingers shaking and a relieved laugh on their lips, “Thank every goddess and sage, you’re alright, I wasn’t sure- couldn’t see-”

“I’m alright?!” She sputtered, flabbergasted, unable to decide if she should play it off or be annoyed or just thankful. She chose instead to throw her arms around them, squeezing with all her might. She pushed them out to arm’s length again - then yanked them closer to the statue. “Why aren’t you dead?!”

“… That’s not a very nice thing to ask.”

“It ate you!” She gestured to all of them with an open hand.

Link smiled sheepishly, shrugging helplessly, “That happens.”

Riju opened her mouth to answer but decided against it, switching instead to the issue at hand. “We need to get out of here.”

Their expression steeled and they gave a firm nod. They rose to their feet and turned to scan the rocks, much as Riju had done, then pulled out their map. Riju stood close behind, watching as they zoomed in close and slowly scrolled through the area. There were areas of hard, raised earth and old structures dotted along for a good while out east, but after that was a large gap of open desert. They’d have no chance of crossing to the city if the thing followed them that far. And the implications of leading it that close to a densely populated area were terrifying regardless.

Clipping the slate back to their belt, they asked, “How well can you climb?”

Riju looked to the highlands, then back to Link. “Not well enough to climb that, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Link studied the distant wall for a long moment, lips pursed pensively. They could maybe carry her up, but getting back down was another matter - another matter that would probably take a whole extra day of travel, since they had no idea if the glider could handle both their weight, and they’d never risk her safety on it. Never mind the fact that they’d have to leave Patricia behind.

They turned to consider the distance to the city. There was no telling how long it would take for the thing to give up on them. How long they could be stuck in the elements, waiting. Even if Link had plenty of resources in their bags to sustain the both of them through the wait, people would come looking. And people would get hurt.

They turned back to Riju, something unreadable on their face. “We’ll have to kill it.”

“Okay.” Was her answer. Neither eager nor resigned, just a statement of fact.

While they didn’t want to have to involve her, having her on standby for another save could make all the difference. “You get to something more solid, I’m going up there.” They pointed to the nearest skeleton.

She nodded, and before they could say anything else, she was dashing across the sand to an outcropping of stone. Icy anxiety twisted in Link’s gut. Both of them watched the waves of sand intently, hearts racing as it turned and charged in their direction. But she was able to jump up on the outcropping safely, close behind her seal. She knelt to steady herself, holding a hand to her chest as she watched the molduga continue to approach. It skirted far too close to her haven, sitting only feet above the sand. While it shimmied its fin angrily above the surface, it didn’t risk the jump; their vision was generally poor, and a bad jump at hard stone could result in a broken jaw.

Link only relaxed when she turned a smile back to them, the two sharing an awkward, stressed laugh. It was Link’s turn now. They turned their eye to the towering ribcage of something long dead. It was sloped enough that it wouldn’t take much actual climbing, but it would certainly take sure footing, without much room for mistakes. The molduga circled in the distance, searching.

They reached into their pouch, pulling from it a pair of sand boots; the molduga was circling closer now, and they would need every advantage they could get. They downed a rancid potion, too. Geared up, hyped up, they sprinted straight toward the ancient bones, almost immediately regretting not stopping off with Riju; it was closing fast.

Riju choked on her heart, throwing a hand up to shield her face as the sand exploded a second time. Whatever miracle had saved Link the first time, she was sure it couldn’t save them a second time. Fortunately, it didn’t have to, as the beast’s aim was off this time. Instead of snapping them up for an easy snack, it threw them high, almost over the pile of bones. They nearly rolled down the other side, scrabbling and scratching to get a grip, scraping their fingers and breaking nails, but able to hold on.

After the beast had disappeared below once again, Link hauled themself back up top, waving to Riju to let her know they were okay. Then, crouched atop the crest of the skull, Link drew one bomb from the slate, then the other. The round one they held between their legs, the other they tossed to the ground. The moving mound of sand stopped. They had its attention. Link pointed the slate down at it and clicked the trigger, sending up a shower of sand. When the molduga started to move again, they tossed the second bomb into the crater left by the first and waited.

When the molduga breached for what they hoped was the last time, they clicked the trigger again. It shrieked in pain, jerking to the side to land with a thunderous thud. One of its teeth came clean out, flipping away to bury deep in the sand.

Riju and Patricia were on the move before it had settled. She circled around it, looking for a soft spot and, finding none, opted to jam her sword into its underside, starting just under one of its pitiful little legs. It was a struggle, but she managed to pull it along as she passed, leaving a large, bleeding gash. Pulling her curved blade free, she whipped around to make another pass. When she hit the tougher hide toward its jaw, the bade stuck and jerked out of her hand. She muttered a curse and headed back to the relative safety of the rock formation.

Meanwhile, Link had dropped down from on high, putting their weight into the master sword, glinting bright as it pierced the beast above one of its tiny red eyes. Landing on their feet and barely keeping the pommel from jamming into their face, they wrenched the blade free, stabbing it again and again, every thrust going deeper until the molduga let out its last pitiful wail and stopped its pained thrashing. They stumbled and slipped off as it settled.

After taking a moment to catch their breath, Link, ever the scavenger, put away the master sword and got out something shorter. They sawed off some good chunks of the hardy fin cartilage before moving on to widen the gashes Riju had started.

Patricia at her side, Riju stepped closer, still shaking with adrenaline. “Gross.”

Link only shrugged and continued harvesting. Riju couldn’t think of anything else to say. When she retrieved her own sword she found the blade badly dulled, with a chip toward the tip. She returned it to her hip anyway.

After the exhausting chase, Patricia didn’t have the strength to pull them both, and the other seal was long gone, so they made the trek back on foot. The wind returned, ever welcome as they made their way home. Many steps passed in tired silence.

Somewhere about the halfway point, Link gently tapped Riju’s shoulder so they could sign, “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

She laughed - she couldn’t help it. “And you should have?”

“My… responsibility.”

Riju shook her head and touched their arm in a way that might have been an aborted shove. “It’s already done now. We made a good team.”

They struggled for a moment longer, but finally agreed, “… We did.”

The sun was all but gone and the chill of night had set in by the time they got back, far later than they were supposed to. Buliara met them outside the walls, clearly doing her best not to seem fretful, and only further losing her composure as soon as she saw the molduga’s blood dried across the both of them.

“What happened?” She demanded, forceful in her worry.

Riju answered, tired but straight to the point, “A juvenile molduga that wandered too far east.”

Buliara took a sharp breath, going stiff in the shoulders.

Riju continued before she could speak, starting them walking toward the gate again, “It is slain. But I want a convoy out in the morning to look for more.”

“Yes, chief. I will inform the guard immediately.”

The pair of guards at the western gate greeted them, stoic as ever, but their relief at Riju’s safe return was betrayed by the set of their shoulders. One of them accompanied the party into the city, staying a few steps behind the chief. At the steps of the palace she split off to tell the captain what had transpired.

Finally back inside the palace, Riju turned back to Link. “Thank you, Link. It was fun, until the part where you got eaten.”

“Same.” They signed with a laugh.

“We’ll have to do it again some time.” She waved as she started up to her room, followed by Buliara.

They waved a second longer than they should have. Then it was just them and the remaining guards in the hall. Link’s ears perked up as a thought occurred to them. After a moment of digging, they offered one of them the bag filled with the molduga’s foul-smelling innards.

The smile she offered in return wasn’t quite as bright as Link’s, but she didn’t hesitate to take it. “Thank you. I trust you know where the baths are?”

#Makeela Riju #botw riju #the legend of zelda #breath of the wild #botw #botw fic #she's like 12 you cretins

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years ago

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Vampr Erik Origin: Part Two

okay so I wanted to quickly get this out to basically wrap up the origin half of my new vampire Erik series Faerie and Vampr that I am starting.

Origin Part One

Let’s start with a little background on vampires:

In order to create a vampire, a human must be drained of their blood by a vampire and the blood lost needs to be replaced by some of the vampire's blood. The vampire and human must then sleep in the ground (this is presumably the point where they technically die) until the newborn rises as a vampire the following night. The newborn and the maker will subsequently have a maker-progeny bond, unless the maker deserts or releases their progeny.

If the head, or the heart are missing at the time of death, the person in question will not wake in transition; but simply stay dead. Currently, it is unknown what will happen to a person who lost other organs, such as a liver, or kidneys, and woke up in transition. Most fatal injuries, such as snapped necks, slit throats, stab wounds, and shattered bones from falls will be healed before the fledgling vampire awakens in transition. Furthermore, the person must be mortally wounded or ill to the point that conventional means cannot save their lives. I

A newborn's existence depends upon their abilities, which are taught to them by their maker. These abilities take time to learn and develop. As vampires age, they become more adept at controlling their abilities. According to the history of the creation of vampires, two-thirds of newborns die during their first year without the guidance of their makers.

Newborn vampires will be thirsty and will need to feed to survive. Although newborns have some control of their abilities, they are mostly controlled by their impulses and can cause serious harm and accidental deaths to humans around them. In addition, newborns cannot resist blood at all, as resistance develops with age. The biggest difference is the fact that a vampire gains extreme strength, and has much agility and reflexes. This is more than a match for almost every human alive, and serves the vampire well for hunting and feeding. Of course, like humans, some vampires are just naturally stronger than others.

Also, if a human who is strong is turned into a vampire, then that human strength is added to the vampire strength, creating a very powerful vampire. This is why many vampire leaders will sire huge men; they make incredible bodyguards even against a Slayer. As a vampire grows older, it’s demon side becomes more and more powerful. Vampires do not age, their bodies are, for the most part, just reanimated preserved corpses, and do they, through supernatural means, stay the same forever. There are some exceptions, for example, vampires still appear to grow hair...though perhaps at a much-reduced rate.

A vampire can suffer terrible injuries and heal from them easily. Since they can only be killed by a few select things, they can suffer injuries a human could not heal from, like a broken spine. Gunshots, swords, and any injuries caused by weapons that aren’t wood can’t kill a vampire, only cause pain. Certain vampire poisons and magic do exist though, which will permanently hurt, or kill a vampire. In 1610, a powerful witch named Antonia Gavilán de Logroño cast a spell that summoned all vampires within a 20 mile radius to expose themselves to sunlight. This caused a number of vampires to die and caused vampires to be very fearful of necromancy.

Another example of the supernatural preservation is that vampires don’t need to take oxygen to live. They can, however, force air in and out of their lungs, which allows them to do things like smoke, or perhaps cool air into their chest if they get too warm. They do not have a beating heart like humans do. Although this is true, through some supernatural means they still seem to have blood flow. Without a blood flow, a vampire can’t bleed, or react to drugs, which they clearly do. They can’t however become pregnant or produce waste.

Vampires are recognizable from their fangs, which are located behind the maxillary lateral incisors (as opposed to the canines, as per vampire mythology). Fangs can be extended and retracted by choice, and are controlled by the movements of certain facial muscles. However, fangs protrude automatically when vampires are feeding, angry, excited, sexually aroused (colloquially referred to as a "fang boner"), need to fight, or see blood. Fangs can also be removed, but grow back after three months. Without fangs, vampires cannot feed on live victims unless the victim is already wounded….

——————————-

Erik’s eyes shot wide open in a flash. Darkness surrounded him and his large, muscular body was resting on a hard surface. He could hear the springtails, beetles, centipedes, and ants that make their home in the soil, crawling around. The katydids and crickets were chirping much louder in his ears now. He could smell the odor of dry blood and decay in the earth from the deceased. His body no longer aches and he felt like he had the strength of an entire army.

The last thing he remembered was waking up on a makeshift bed surrounded by burning ritual candles enchanted with herbs, oils, and crystals chosen for their metaphysical and magical properties. He could recall a voice, a captivating voice speaking Jamaican patois in his ear. Now that he forced himself to remember while lying beneath the cold, damp earth, she said she was Mama Dalma; Tia Dalma. The powerful voodoo priestess Erik heard many stories about in his youth.

Like flashes, Erik could vividly see her coming down on him speedily and sinking her teeth into his neck, draining him of his blood. What was she? She said that she would give him the power of immortality, superhuman strength, and healing capabilities. Did that include drinking blood too? From what Erik could tell from his razor-sharp senses is that it’s nightfall. His hands reach above him, feeling around since he could only see pitch black. He noticed wood beneath his fingertips. Erik pushed with ease, although the top flew off and landed somewhere far within the distance. He sits up, finally breathing in the night air.

Erik stares at his hands in bewilderment before looking around him. Erik could see the full moon peeking through the branches of the oak trees. As his eyes moved he could make out a sprawling wooden shack surrounded by a damp, gloomy world. It’s a steamy bayou and the forest within this area looked like a spooky cypress where fireflies flickered in the heavy air. The swamp water surrounding the shack was eerily still. The sprawling shack clings to the branches of a tree within the swamp. This had to be Tia Dalma’s home.

...Yuh can stay here on muh table and die slowly...or I can give yuh immortality….

Her words rang true in his ears. Tia Dalma saved his life. Erik was about to die by the hands of white men who seeked revenge for burning down their homes and killing their families. He now remembers tasting the mixture of saltwater and freshwater, also known as brackish water in his mouth after being tossed inside the swamp by the white men. The gators would have devoured him in minutes if it wasn’t for him being pulled from the swamp. He figured Tia must have killed those men and rescued him.

Standing slowly, Erik tested his ability to move by stepping out of what appears to be a wooden coffin and into the shoveled-out ditch. He clearly recovered from the multiple stab wounds to his abdomen. His cream colored linen blend shirt with a collar was still covering his torso even though it was ripped. Erik delicately touches the skin of his much smoother chest, his head lowering to follow his movements with fascination. His blood still stained the shirt that is also covered in dirt and grass stains. Lifting his shirt up, he examined his abdomen, the muscles crunching the more he bends his back to get a good look.

There are no wounds. The jagged knife used on him to create deep gashes was apparently gone. All that’s left is smooth skin and an eight pack so rock hard that if a mortal punched him their phalanges down to their carpals would be fractured beyond repair. Erik breathes irregularly and his eyes are wide with astonishment. He quickly touched his face and head, his hands moving rapidly with shock. His face is back to normal before the white men kicked, punched, and pistol-whipped him.

“Wut kind of magic is dis’?” He spoke with a staggering voice. While staring at his hands, a drop of blood landed on his skin. Startled, Erik touches his nose, bringing it down to examine. He’s bleeding. After that realization an insatiable need to eat overpowered him. It hit him so fast and strong that it made his body weaken and stumble. He grabbed at his throat as more blood dripped from his nostrils. Erik lets out agonized gasps that turned into deep growls. His fingers damn near clawed at his throat. He felt like he was going to die if he didn’t eat something, anything.

“Wah yuh still doin’ down dere?”

Erik turned with great speed towards the direction of the vivid voice. Standing above him, was Tia Dalma herself. She’s wearing the same sheer, black gown Erik remembers, her long, slender dreadlocks framing her face and a sneaky smile was plastered on her black painted lips.

“Wut happened to me? Did I die?” Erik says while looking up at Tia Dalma with his inky black irises outlined crimson twinkling in the evening night.

“If yuh climb out of deh, Mama will tell yuh everything,” Tia Dalma steps back, “Come mi child.”

Erik grabs hold of a few vines sprouting from the soil-covered wall before climbing up with superhuman agility, his body standing before Tia Dalma in a matter of seconds. The speed still amazed him. It felt like everything around him was moving at a slow pace. Tia locked eyes with Erik before circling him. She was especially proud of herself. She finally has a progeny after 175 years of immortality. Tia smelled Erik’s dreadlocks and squeezed his muscles while circling his beautiful frame.

“I give yuh more life, Erik Stevens. Yuh will walk deh earth unstoppable, like mi,” Tia caresses Erik’s cheek with her sharp, long black nail. He looked her up and down before his eyes moved to the finger on his cheek. He gently brings his hand up, grabbing her finger and bringing it away from his face.

“Wut am I?” He spoke carefully with squinted eyes.

“Yuh a Vampr, Erik, a creature of deh night, deh undead.”

“Ondèd? Mwen? Ondèd?” He walks away, his head moving up, down, and side to side with curiosity and confusion. Mama Dalma watched like a proud mother with her arms crossed, allowing Erik to get a feel of things before she started teaching him. The sooner the better since he’s a newborn. Erik could see with perfect clarity in the darkness of the night, to the point of being able to detect bodily heat emanations. The keenness was comparable on many levels to a bat or owl but ten times more.

Erik starts moving extremely quick, testing out his new abilities. He would run to the left and stop, then turn and do the same thing, creating diagonal patterns with his movements. This speed made it impossible for him to be detected. The more he moved, the more excited he became. He was like a curious child, wanting to explore what else he was capable of doing. Erik ran towards an oak tree, wrapped his arms around it, and without even trying, he uprooted the entire tree before dropping it. The oak tree landed on the ground heavily, causing it to shake like an earthquake. This startled the animals, leading to a few deer and owls fleeing.

“Just rampin around huh?” Tia Dalma laughs before walking up to Erik. His eyes are wide and his nostrils flared. All he wanted to do was move. Staying still only agitated him. Mama Dalma grabs his arm, yanking him towards her with her strength superior to Erik’s since she is much older.

“Ah, yuh have deh bleeds,” Tia wipes Erik’s nose with her fingers, “Deh is what happens when yuh need to eat.” She checked his ears, and sure enough, he’s bleeding from there as well. Erik raises a single brow in question, clearly not understanding a word she was saying.

“Out and bad, yuh will have deh chance to play, but for now, mi have to teach yuh about what it is to be a vampr. Listen to mi, Erik,” She spoke sternly while grabbing his chin harshly, “Yuh have to feed. Deh is mi first lesson. Feedin’. Come.”

Tia Dalma grabs Erik’s hand and the both of them zoom off into the night.

___________________

A white young lady named Isabella Guidry was playing her violin on the open porch of her family's plantation home. The Guidry plantation had about thirty field slaves before they were all freed because of the abolition of slavery. The only negros left we’re the house negros who prepared meals, cleaned, and baby sat. Isabella had just turned 21 years old and she was in preparation to be wed to a veteran named Alex Bellefleur who served as First Lieutenant in the 28th Louisiana Infantry. She suddenly stopped playing her violin when she heard her mother calling for her.

“Isabella! Come in darling! Yvette has to do ya hair! Ya have to teach the new debutants in da morning!”

“Coming, mama!” Isabella places her violin back in its case before securing it. She fluffed out her full forest green skirt that reached the ground, the bustle providing fullness in the back. The cream-colored corset top with cotton bell sleeves cinched her waist giving her an hourglass appearance. She stepped inside of the grand plantation home, the eldest house negro named Mabel approaching her cautiously. Mabel was wearing an apron over her withering cotton dress, her silver hair sprouting from underneath her sun bonnet.

“Miss Isabella, ya needin’ any help?” Mabel asks.

“Just take my violin, please,” Isabella spoke dismissively, “Da last time one of ya broke my precious violin...DONT break this one,” Isabella spoke harshly.

“Yes ma’am,” Mabel grabs the violin case from Isabella carefully before turning to leave with a limp in her leg.

“Why are ya walking like that, Mabel?” Isabella studied Mabel’s legs.

“Nothin’ just tired is all,” Mabel smiles despite her pain before turning the corner to leave.

“Isabella!”

Her green eyes looked up to find her mother standing at the top of the stairs dressed in a black gown with a full skirt, her jet black hair pulled to the back of her head in a neat bun, and pearls dangling from her slender neck. She was clutching a handkerchief and before Isabella could ask why her mother began coughing into it.

“Get up here, Bella. Yvette will put barley curls in ya hair and roll dem up. She’s waiting in ya room.”

Her mother turns away abruptly, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor before disappearing into her bedroom. Isabella climbs the stairs to her room, worry filling her belly for her mother. When she finally made it to her room, Yvette was waiting for her patiently by her Astoria Grand Vanity. Yvette is a mulatto slave who Isabella’s father treated differently from the others because she’s his secret daughter. Her father slept with a house slave named Edna and impregnated her. Isabella’s mother found out and sold Edna to another plantation; the Compton plantation in St. Tammany Parish.

“Evenin’ Miss Isabella,” Yvette spoke with her beguiling voice. She has smooth tawny skin, loose curly, sandy brown ringlets framing her face while the rest was hidden beneath a red and khaki tigon, which was simply the French New Orleans version of an African head wrap. She wore a brown southern belle dress with lace drop shoulder sleeves, a low neckline, and a voluminous skirt. Isabella hates that this is her half sister and the fact that she gets to dress so nicely.

“Who gave ya dat dress?” Isabella asks with an attitude and jealous eyes.

“I made it, Miss Isabella,” Yvette blinks her chocolate brown eyes away, “I have to do ya hair.”

“I know, barely curls,” Isabella takes a seat at her vanity, her eyes sharp on Yvette. Yvette could feel her burning holes through her head with her furious eyes while she took down Isabella’s black hair. Yvette grabs a brush to smooth it down, “Well? Wut are ya waitin’ on?! Do my hair!”

“Yes, Miss Isabella,” Yvette moved at a faster pace before grabbing a clip to pin up some of Isabella’s dark strands.

“I hate ya,” Isabella didn’t hesitate to say, “Ya brought down my family, ya negro tramp.”

Yvette bites her tongue. She had a lot that she wanted to say to Isabella but she would only end up killed. It wasn’t her fault that her father slept with her mother, Edna, around the same time Isabella’s mother was pregnant. Yvette didn’t ask to be here. She couldn’t control the fact that she was half white, even though she despised that side of her because of how they treated blacks. Yvette will always feel disgusted about that part of her. While Yvette began working on Isabella’s hair, wetting a few strands, a scream rang out from her mother’s room. It went on a few more times, the sound so scary it made Isabella’s fingers tremble. Yvette was in the middle of wrapping Isabella’s damp hair around a piece of soft rag to form the curls when she stopped, a startled expression on her face.

“What da hell?” Isabella stands, “mama?” She called. Her father wasn’t home yet from an outing with her fiancé, Alex, and the rest of the men for drinks, preferably hard apple cider and rum. It was unnaturally quiet. A pin dropping would probably echo throughout the room from how silent it was. Isabella lets out a panting breath before standing from her vanity. Yvette began to quickly clean Isabella’s vanity, her hands shaky. She heard tales about Ricardo Dupoux and his revolt burning down plantations throughout Louisiana. She didn’t want to be around for it to happen.

“Go see what dat noise is!” Isabella ordered. Yvette pauses, giving Isabella a dirty look.

“Did I stutter, nigger?! Go see what dat is! NOW!” Isabella yells with a trembling finger pointed to the door.

Yvette drops the items in her hand onto the vanity before gathering the bottom of her dress to walk away. Before she could even make it to the door it was torn from its hinges. Yvette runs to the other side of the room, tripping over the bottom of her dress, and falling to the floor while Isabella screams, falling back against her bed. Standing at the door, both bodies covered in blood, is a black man and a black woman. Their eyes are round with pitch black irises, mouths wide open and sharp fangs protruding automatically to threaten. Their faces from the nose down are covered in blood and some of it stained their clothes. The woman, however, barely wore any fabric, her small breasts with hardened nipples and her hairy mound clearly visible.

“WHO ARE YA?!!! WHAT DID YA DO TO MY MAMA?!!!” Isabella yells with fear. Yvette was hugging herself in a corner, tears filling her eyes as she prayed in Haitian creole.

“Chè Bondye, tanpri, mwen pa vle mouri,” She sobbed while praying.

“No use in cryin’ child, hush yuh mouth,” Mama Dalma spoke with an evil tongue, “hole yuh cahna, gurl,” She insulted Isabella, putting her in her place when she kept yelling about how they are a bunch of niggers and how her father will find them and kill them.

Erik tasted his first victim and it was glorious. It was like an unimaginable, indescribable sweet heavenly nectar. It’s like being able to perpetually exist off nothing but sweet desserts without any negative health repercussions. The taste of Isabella’s mother's blood reminded him of fresh gala apples. It satisfied his hunger but it didn’t give him that feeling he yearned for, a feeling close to an orgasm. A feeling close to his dick chubbing up in his brown knickers. As he stared at Isabella with predatory eyes, he could hear her heart racing, and smell her fear, a scent that Erik relished. While he was draining Isabella’s mother dry he could hear Isabella’s heartbeat through the thick walls. His new powers as the undead allowed him to see Isabella’s blood and brain activity as well.

“Mwen pa ka tann pou tiye sa a,” Erik spoke with a deep, gravelly voice before licking blood from his chin with his thick pink tongue. Mama Dalma gave him a seductive look, her clit jumping below her tightly coiled pubic hair. Yvette shudders from his words. He said he couldn’t wait to kill Isabella. Yvette wondered if he would say the same about her.

“Eat mi child,” Mama Dalma says with a wave of her hand, granting Erik permission to drain Isabella dry. Mama Dalama couldn’t keep her eyes off of Erik’s blood-covered lips and fangs. Isabella tried to run with a high-pitched scream filling the room but Erik already detected her escape, running up on her at a whizzing speed that ripped through the air, grabbing her by the back of her frail neck and slamming her face first on the hardwood floor. Erik twisted her neck painfully before sinking his fangs deep into her pulsating jugular vein. Since he’s new, he drank from Isabella with so much excitement to taste her blood that Tia had to stand by him to instruct him.

“Patience, Erik, slow down,” Mama Dalma moves some of his dreads from his face, “Feel her heartbeat...yuh feel that? Yuh hear it slowing up? Deh is what yuh want to look for. When yuh feedin’ yuh must never take deh last breath or it will draw yuh in and yuh will drop out. If yuh plan on feeding yuh have to learn how to do it without killing dem, yuh know?”

Isabella’s cries grew fainter and fainter. Yvette was staring her in the eyes, watching the life drain from her body. Tears of fear fell from Yvette’s eyes and a hand came up to cover her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. She didn’t understand what she was witnessing before her eyes.

“Good job, Big up yourself,” Mama Dalma congratulates Erik on properly feeding from his victim, “Now, yuh may finish her off.”

Erik didn’t need to be told twice. He sank his fangs deeper, ripping the flesh from her neck, and in a matter of seconds, Isabella was lifeless. Erik retracted his fangs before dropping her body to the floor with a loud thud. Her blood was much better than her mother’s, it tasted like cinnamon apples. He could easily tell Isabella and her mother apart from their bodily odor, down to their blood types.

“Now, appreciate yuh prey,” Mama Dalma smashes Isabella’s head like a watermelon with her bare foot, “Deh are food, and only food.” She reminds a newborn Erik.

“More,” Erik says while the blood of his victims electrified his body.

“There’s one more,” Mama Dalma points her sharp black claw nail at Yvette, “She’s a pretty one too...I bet she tastes better,” Mama Dalma says with a honeyed voice.

The echo-sensitivity of Erik’s hearing is what made him notice Yvette. When his eyes landed on hers and his nose sniffed the air she openly cried, her hands flailing and pretty face stained with tears. His sheer speed made it impossible for Yvette to escape. Erik picks Yvette up by her neck and slams her against the wall, grabbing her chin to aggressively turn her head so that he could have access to her neck, or, another area…

“Mwen...Mwen...bèl, Mwen,” His eyes are glued to the copious amount of cleavage she has spilling over the top of her dress. Her skin was translucent to him and he could see her veins and arteries contracting and pushing blood throughout her. Then, Erik could hear her heart like ritual drums pounding his ears. She smelled so...good. Her scent was like Heliotropes with their vivid purple beauty that reminded Erik of cherry pie.

“Tanpri, pa touye m’. Mwen ansent!!!” She pleaded and shook with fear, “Mwen gen yon ti bebe k ap grandi andedan mwen!!” She couldn’t look Erik in his killer eyes.

Erik retracted his fangs, his eyes tearing away from Yvette’s cleavage with great restraint. He lets go of Yvette walking away to control himself. Yvette slides down the wall to the floor clutching her belly. She trembled as she cried. Erik clenched his fists, trying his best to control his breathing and his temptations to drain her dry.

“Erik? Wuh are yuh doing?!!!” Mama Dalma spoke with rage, speeding over to Erik and standing in front of him, “Yuh stopped...why did Yuh do deh?!” Mama Dalma was hysterical.

“Not dis one,” Erik spoke with a low trembling voice, “She’s pregnant.”

Mama Dalma tilted her head up at Erik before grabbing his chin roughly, causing her sharp nails to sink into the flesh of his cheeks, drawing blood,“Yuh came here to feed, right? Wat a gwaan? Yuh killed the other two just fine. Yuh can’t have remorse, it’s not in our nature.”

“I can’t do it,” Erik moves his head away from Mama Dalma’s grip, “There has to be another way, I can’t-I can’t kill her.”

Mama Dalma’s eyes were scornful on Erik. He didn’t cower under her gaze because he knew she wouldn’t kill him, she needed him, that much Erik could tell.

Mama Dalma closes her eyes with a shake of her head, “Yuh queff dem whites...Yuh need to glamour this one then, wipe her memory.”

Erik’s eyes narrowed with confusion.

“It's a form of hypnosis. Come, I’ll show Yuh.”

Both Mama Dalma and Erik dash to Yvette causing her to scream. Erik places a hand over her mouth to calm her but it wasn’t working. Mama Dalma rolls her eyes with frustration, preferring to kill her but Erik did need to learn how to glamour his victims.

“Alright, now, stare into her eyes.”

Erik locks eyes with Yvette.

“Keep eye contact...yes...now, yuh will feel yourself invading her mind...when yuh feel that connection, hold it with all Yuh might. Now...use your voice to compel her to do wuh yuh want her to do...now try.”

Erik felt tethered to Yvette’s mind. It was hard to hold on but Erik pushed himself to keep Yvette under his control. He liked the challenge and if this was going to be his life he needed to do it right the first time. That was the perfectionist in him, even as Ricardo Dupoux.

“...I’m going to release ya mouth now….” Erik spoke calmly and carefully. Yvette didn’t make a sound as Erik’s hand left her mouth. She stared at him with a dazed expression like she was in a dream-like state.

“Tell me, what’s ya name, girl?” Erik asks.

“Yvette,” She spoke with reverie.

“Yvette...ya very lucky tonight. Ya get to leave dis plantation and never look back. Ya can find ya family, and be free with ya babies,” Erik smiles with his blood stained lips and deep charming dimples causing Yvette to smile.

“I can finally see my mama?” even in a stupor, Yvette couldn’t fight the tears of joy falling from her eyes.

“Yeah, ya can go to ya mama. Ya won’t remember wut happened here tonight, ya never even saw me, or her,” Erik reaches out to stroke Yvette’s face. She leaned into his touch while staring at him like she was stuck in a daydream.

“Now, I’m gonna let ya go now, girl. Forget this plantation, just keep going and don’t look back, ya hear me?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl, now, go on, love, leave and never, ever look back.” Erik stressed while holding the eye contact he had with her. Yvette blinked her pretty chocolate brown eyes at him like she was under a love spell, “Say, yes sir so I know you understand what I’m telling ya to do.”

“Yes sir,” Yvette says with a nod of her head. Erik left her in suspended animation while Yvette lifted from the floor, gathering the front of her dress, and walking out of the room. She was gone.

“Yuh gonna tell mi wuh happened back dere?”

Erik turned to Mama Dalma and she was on him in a flash, slamming him to the floor hard and breaking the floorboards beneath him. His fangs extended and he hissed at her with his dark eyes unblinking on her. Mama Dalma’s hands are a blur as she holds Erik down with his arms above his head. She hissed in his face harder, her fangs inches away from biting a hole through his pouty bottom lip.

“Yuh enjoy misbehaving I see. Let me tell yuh something,” She spoke with venom, “I am Yuh maker, I created yuh, and I can take Yuh life away,” She snaps her fingers before dragging her hand down his body to his crotch, squeezing his erection hard, “Just...like...deh, do yuh understand? I command yuh, I have a link to Yuh body and when I call on yuh...yuh come to mama,” She whispered before pushing off of him with great speed, standing above him.

“Retract yuh fangs,” She says. Erik glared at her on that floor, disobeying her yet again.

“As yuh maker, I COMMAND YUH TO RETRACT YUH FANGS...NOW!” Her voice boomed.

Erik retracted them without any more trouble.

“Good boy,” She says, “Now get up. I’m not finished feedin’.”

_______________

There are rows of Cajun homes within New Orleans that belonged to many white people. Some were plantations, others were of regular architecture. Mama Dalma and Erik have been feeding all night and it would be dawn soon in a couple of hours. Since Tia has already killed the men that attempted to kill Erik, Erik seeked revenge on their families. They couldn’t walk into the homes unless they were invited which is what got them inside of the Guidry plantation. An elder house negro named Mabel invited them inside when Mama Dalma persuaded her. As soon as Mama Dalma and Erik stepped into the home, Mama Dalma killed Mabel by draining her blood through her throat.

Mama Dalma made Erik glamor each white person that owned the homes so they could invite them inside to kill them. Bloody footprints made a trail up the road to each and every home. Children, mothers, and fathers all lay in a bloody pile for the flies to swarm them. It was sensual and addictive to feed from his victims. He didn’t feel sexual attraction towards them, especially the racists whites all over New Orleans, but the tastier the blood, the harder his dick became. His mortal life was becoming an afterthought, especially with what happened at the Guidry plantation. He couldn’t bring himself to kill Yvette, even as a newborn, because she was pregnant. Her fear and her words made him think about Justine Dupoux; his wife, and his two little girls, Rose Fabiola Dupoux and Felicie Ines Dupoux.

With Dawn approaching, Mama Dalma and Erik are simply walking through the bayou, dried blood on their skin from head to toe. Mama Dalma tells Erik the story of how she was created. A mob of pirates came looking for her to kill her because of a curse she placed on them. They hunted her down and each of them took turns raping and stabbing her to death. She was coughing up her own blood in her shack in Cuba similar to the one she has in New Orleans. Just minutes later, a handsome vampr with smooth bronze skin, a broad and hooked nose, thick curly hair, and a tall, slender frame cane upon her. He said he had traveled from the Eastern Desert that extends from the Nile Valley all the way to the Red Sea Coast. He was stunned by Mama Dalma’s bravery and beauty, so he granted her the gift of immortality.

Erik impressed Mama Dalma for his thirst for things. She, however, knew that Erik was going to be trouble since he’s not used to taking orders from anyone. Within their walk in the remaining hours of darkness, Mama Dalma taught Erik all about the world of a vampire and its history from what her maker shared with her. As for Erik’s new powers, he was beside himself with the pleasure of it all. He will live forever, he is strong and unstoppable, and he can hypnotize people at will. One downside to it all was that he was going to miss the feeling of the sun on his skin, releasing endorphins such as serotonin; proven to improve mood, and energy, and increase feelings of calm and focus. Another downside stood before his eyes right now. Erik didn’t mean to come here.

Hiding in the trees, Erik stares at his old home. It was a beautiful forest retreat surrounded by green. He remembers building this home from the ground up. Focusing his eyes, Erik can see an oil lamp ignited in the small window of the living room. Just beyond the glass, Justine could be seen praying with Erik’s mother, Fabiola. He could hear them calling on the spirits for help to bring Erik back to them. Rose and Felicie are sound asleep in their beds. Erik can hear their soft breaths. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the times he would enter that home, kicking off his riding boots and sneaking up on his wife while she sewed their daughters clothing, placing a delicate kiss to her neck before trailing those kisses down to his wife’s copious cleavage. He could almost feel her curves against his solid frame. Then, the smell of his daughter's hair; a lavender scent. They were always so happy to see him.

“Come on, we’ve stayed long enough,” Mama Dalma says with a hand to Erik’s shoulder, “A vampire's life is a life of discretion.”

“Discretion?” Erik looks down at Mama Dalma as his eyes become glossy before they leaked bloody tears, “Why must we hide, Mama Dalma? We are da powerful, we are da immortal, we should walk fearless in da open,” Erik spoke with a raucous voice. He didn’t like that he had to leave his family behind. Stopping here to see his home one final time was a grave mistake.

“Deh cannot be, mi child,” Mama Dalma wipes away Erik’s bloody tears with her fingers, slipping them into her mouth to clean off, “Mortals must never know bout’ us for deh sake of our kind-

“So I can never know my family?!!!” Erik’s voice was thick with emotion.

“Not unless yuh plan on killing all of dem. Yuh have to cut out, Erik,” She steps closer to him, her eyes more serious, “Yuh must be dead to deh world.”

“I can’t accept dat,” He steps away.

“As yuh maker, I command yuh to leave yuh family behind.”

Erik’s body felt like it was being controlled just from those words alone. Mama Dalma starts walking away, and Erik has no other choice but to follow her while bloody tears stained his cheeks.

“Yuh will do nothing but feed and feed until yuh are satisfied. We are savages, it is time for yuh to understand deh...I am sick of repeating myself wit yuh,” Mama Dalma scolds, “Now, let us go to ground until tomorrow night, I’m craving infant blood,” Mama Dalma wickedly laughs while twirling around in a state of euphoria, her hands playing in her dreadlocks, “I know where deh newborn nursery is at Charity Hospital!! Nice, plump babies!!!”

Tia Dalma is the epitome of vampiric evil and malice, all because of her abusive, cold-hearted, and manipulative maker named Abasi. Abasi and Tia traveled all over from South America, Africa, Europe, and North America.Together, Abasi using Tia’s abilities to seduce and entice men and women, he lured them into his clutches, thereby raping and murdering countless men and women then mutilating their bodies. Abasi created a sadistic vampire. Erik has yet to see what Mama Dalma is capable of and she couldn’t wait to transform him into a male version of herself, just as cruel, limitless, sadistic, and torturous.

____________________

It is the year 1891, three years after Erik Stevens was made vampr. Mama Dalma and Erik often traveled to the French Quarter, also known as Vieux Carré and Barrio Francés. Anglophone Americans and Francophone Creoles would meet and do business in both French and English. It was a big tourist destination. There are multi-story Creole townhouses with businesses occupying ground floors and living quarters above. There were railroad tracks, warehouses, and industries built near the riverfront. Some wealthy Quarter residents relocated to Esplanade Avenue and North Rampart Street when things became overcrowded. Here, Mama Dalma and Erik felt most alive at night. It’s been a while since Erik came to the French Quarter.

The old Lalaurie mansion that was burned down by a mob in 1834 and remodeled in 1838 is used as a public school for girls. Evening parades with drunken civilians who engaged in sex and violence thrilled Mama Dalma and Erik. There is a luxury hotel that Mama Dalma and Erik often decide to bombard and take the riches from the wealthy whites after draining them. Erik especially loved to steal three piece lounge suits and polished shoes for himself from local shops. He looked dapper with the slim fit, always wearing his jackets partially undone to reveal the high buttoning waistcoats and watch-chain. He didn’t bother buttoning his shirt since he preferred it to be open to show off his defined pectorals and sculpted eight pack. He still dawned the Vodou jewelry he adored so much.

Mama Dalma is a confident woman who screams sex. She often wore long, sheer gowns that gave you a view of her nudity. She wore heavy jewelry like Erik and dark makeup that made her inky black eyes pop. She was determined to fuck Erik, waiting patiently for him to finally accept his new life. It took him over a year to freely accept being a vampire. He never talked about his family again which made Mama Dalma very happy, especially if he was going to be her lover. It was his compelling eyes, his remarkable body, his voice, the way he fed on his victims, how his dick would thicken and leave an enormous bulge that she wanted nothing more but to ride, suck, and nibble on with her fangs. She noticed the way women; white and black, looked at him. She noticed a lot of traits in his new vampire body. Erik is calculating, disobedient because he didn’t like to be told what to do and when to do it, seductive, calm and methodical unless pushed towards a lethal violence with surprising strength for a newborn.

One evening, Mama Dalma and Erik visit a brothel, posing as a wealthy black couple. The prostitutes of the brothel were a mixture of races; French Creoles, Spanish, Haitian Creoles, African Americans, White Americans, and the list goes on. It’s been three years since Erik had sex with a woman. He would often lure and seduce them to kill them or feed but not to have sex. Seeing all of the half naked women offering themselves to him stirred something within him that he hadn’t felt since his wife. He could never see them again so there was no use in denying himself of what he craved besides drinking blood. Mama Dalma sensed his struggle and decided to let Erik have some fun while she watched, that is, until she intervenes.

Erik chose a beautiful African American girl named Althea who physically reminded him of his wife; short, curves in all the right places, and lips so round and full he wondered how good they tasted. She wore tight, barely curls in her hair and Victorian lingerie with a corset in a peach color. She looked timid, constantly staring at her bare feet to avoid Erik’s piercing black eyes. Just simply extending his hand for her to grasp made her gasp. When Erik took her to a room draped in red velvet with fancy suede red furniture lit by an electric lantern, he informed her that Mama Dalma simply wanted to watch them have sex. This poor girl Althea didn’t know what was coming to her. Mama Dalma took a seat in a corner, removing her long coat and revealing her sheer gown underneath.

“I’ve never done dis before...having a woman watch me,” Althea whispered nervously.

“Just act like she’s not even there, girl,” Erik kisses down Althea’s neck, “Ya like da way I kiss?”

“Yes,” Althea gasps when Erik’s tongue snakes down her neck to her cleavage, “Ya sure love to lick my skin, Sir,” Althea laughs nervously. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of Mama Dalma.

“Ya smell just like honey,” Erik drags his nose along Althea’s skin, “I bet ya taste like honey too, girl...right here,” Erik says while rubbing her pussy lips through her lingerie.

“Please,” Althea lays back in the bed, “ya so handsome, I need ya to fuck me.”

Mama Dalma brings her hand down between her legs, resting her fingers over her curly pubic hair. Wet wasn’t even the word to describe how slick her folds are. Watching Erik undress Althea made her fangs extend on its own. Luckily, she’s in the shadows and Althea can’t see. Erik used one had to rip Althea’s corset and lingerie from her body, causing her to moan from his aggressiveness. Althea has nice big, round breasts with dark chocolate areolas and nipples. Mama Dalma could only imagine how it must feel to sink her teeth into all that flesh.

“Goddamn, girl,” Erik practically rips his shirt from his body followed by his waistcoat, trousers, and shoes. Althea couldn’t believe the body before her was real. She touched Erik with intriguing eyes filled with so much desire they began to water.

“What a beautiful man,” Althea expresses, “What are ya?”

“Ya Master,” Erik gives Althea a wicked smile, “And da one dat plans on making ya cum,” He licks his lips before leaning forward to suck on Althea’s nipples.

Her heart rate banged in his ears and the constant pulse coming from her veins and arteries was driving him insane. He was extremely hungry and after three years of being a vampire his control became better. His fangs didn’t extend prematurely anymore, now, Erik could control it. Althea’s sweet moans made his fat dick cast iron hard. He quickly drags his lips down Althea’s body while she grabs a fist full of his long, slender dreadlocks. Erik wasted no time while bringing Althea’s legs up and out, causing her to whimper. The smell of her inner folds was what caused his fangs to extend. Althea heard it and lifted to try and see but Erik held her down with a single hand around her throat while he vigorously lapped at her pussy. Pussy. He forgot how amazing it tasted but with his heightened senses he had to be licking grains of sugar.

“Oh, yes, oh God, yes,” Althea was gripping the sheets while struggling to breath from Erik’s strong hand around her neck, “Yes, Master, eat my pussy like dat.”

Mama Dalma was rubbing her clit in a circular motion with her razor sharp eyes focused on the way Erik’s tongue would lick Althea’s pussy. That thick, pink tongue would flick Althea’s clit up and down and then he would occasionally move that muscle side to side up and down Althea’s inner folds. She was nice and engorged down there, her hips constantly jerking like she wanted to shower Erik with her liquid. The minute Erik’s full lips wrapped around Althea’s clit and labia, Mama Dalma slips three fingers into her pussy to stroke herself. Althea couldn’t handle it. Mama Dalma however would have taken that sweet torture like a champion.

“Unh! Unh! I’m cumming! Master, I’m cumming!”

Althea’s hips levitated off of the bed and Erik followed her movements with his lips still sucking on her clit.

“Jesus,” Mama Dalma whispers, “Yuh tore deh girl up, Erik...her pussy is nice and wet now.”

Erik’s lips slowly pulled off of Althea’s clit to place kisses along her inner thighs. He licked with a circular motion to make her shiver before sinking her teeth into her thigh. Althea screams, yanking Erik’s dreadlocks. Her entire body spasms beneath him, soft whimpers escaping her mouth. She didn’t understand what was going on. Erik retracted his fangs before licking her blood up that constantly leaked. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before kneeling between Althea’s legs with his dick in hand. Althea watched him clutch that long pipe before bringing her knees back further.

“It’s so big,” She says with a stunned voice, her hands holding her pussy lips open now with desperation, “ya fucking me wit dat?” She was nervous and aroused at the same time.

“All of dat,” he leans over Althea’s body, his dick in one hand and his other hand wrapped around her curly strands. Erik rubbed the wide tip of his dick against her clit before slowly entering Althea. She let out ragged breaths with her mouth unhinged. Erik licked and kissed all over Althea’s neck all while his hips were pistoning in and out of Althea’s pussy. The entire bed would moved, the brass headboard banging against the wall covered in elegant ornate French Victorian wallpaper that is a black and red color.

“Fuck, dis pussy is so tight,” He whispers.

“It’s so much dick, Master, so much dick!!!!” Althea pushes at Erik’s chest but he wasn’t going anywhere, “Jesus! it is filling me up!! unh, FUCK!”

“Ya better take all dis dick I’m giving ya girl,” He whispered to her, “Don’t run from me, I’ll hold ya down and fuck ya some more.”

Mama Dalma moaned from his words before bringing her fingers to her mouth to taste herself. With her spit covered fingers she rubs her clit, bringing one leg up so she could have a better reach. She could only imagine the pleasure Althea was experiencing. The more Erik fucked her the more possessive Mama Dalma became. Althea was taking all that dick, dick that belonged to Mama Dalma. Erik’s stroke was dangerous. The muscles in his back rippled and flexed each time he entered Althea.

“Ya making me cum again!” Althea twisted her head to the side, tears falling from her eyes, and moaning into the pillow beneath her, “UNH GOD!”

Erik’s inky black irises dilated when he saw Althea’s jugular vein protrude from her neck. While stroking her, Erik takes a single finger to trace her vein before extending his fangs from simply flexing his jaw, startling her by coming down on her with speed, his teeth sinking right into her vein. Like a pipe bursting, Althea’s blood spilled into Erik’s mouth. His eyes rolled and the grip he had on her hair became painful and uncomfortable. Her screams turned into scared cries as her hands attempted to push him off of her.

“Yes, feed, mi child!!! take her blood!!!” Mama Dalma felt overwhelming joy and lust instead of a building orgasm since she is the undead. Mama Dalma sucked the lubrication from her fingers before speeding over to the bed. She moves Erik’s dreadlocks out of the way so she could sink her teeth into Althea’s right breast. The fleshy area was like a cushion for Mama Dalma’s lips while she fed off of her. Althea could do nothing but cry. Erik continues to fuck her until his body tingled and the same overwhelming lust that Mama Dalma felt blasted through him. It was strange and intriguing to not ejaculate but still very powerful like an orgasm. It hit him so hard that the hand in Althea’s hair yanked some of her strands out. Blood began to soak the sheets and Althea’s body soon became lifeless.

“FUCK,” Erik stares at Althea’s dead body. Her blood was so rich and sweet Erik couldn’t help but to lick and suck on his fingers. His dick was standing straight up and pointed out with deep veins and a tight sack.

“I’m gonna suck and fuck deh sweet dick so good, Erik,” Mama Dalma grabs Erik’s dick, her fingers barely touching, “Oooh, it’s so damn thick.”

“I bet ya been wanting to suck dis dick for a long time...wut took ya so long? Huh?” He says with a sly smirk.

“Eva since I first laid eyes on yuh.”

Mama Dalma forces Erik to the bed with her superior strength. Erik’s fangs retracted instantly when Mama Dalma started stroking his dick. Erik hisses while taking his strong hand to rip Mama Dalma’s dress to shreds, revealing her toned body with small breasts. Mama Dalma lowered her head between Erik’s legs and with her superhuman strength and stamina, Mama Dalma tightened her jaws and bobbed her head expertly to fill her entire throat with his dick. She would suck him all the way down to the base and back up.

“Fuck, kenbe souse m’tankou sa,” Erik closes his eyes, “sa kaka santi li tèlman bon,” He spoke gruffly between moans. He was telling Mama Dalma how good it felt and that she needed to keep sucking on him. Erik felt a pinprick on the side of his shaft that made him bite down on his pouty bottom lip, drawing blood. Mama Dalma was tasting the blood from the throbbing and protruding veins of his meaty length. Erik instantly healed from her bite.

“Yuh are one sexy man, Erik, and yuh are mine. I always get wuh I want. I will take it by force if I have to. Deh dick is mine, yuh hear me? Alllllllllll Mine.”

Mama Dalma couldn’t be stopped the more she gave Erik fellatio. Suck long, suck hard, and suck often. That’s exactly what she will do every chance she gets. With Erik’s newfound strength, his dick was practically impenetrable; unyielding; tremendously solidified. That pleasure stick will have Mama Dalma feeling intimacy stronger than she ever did in her early vampire life. It was different at first for Mama Dalma to be sexual but not in a reproductive way. Since discovering Erik, she felt the strongest sexual lust in her 175 years of being a vampire. Mama Dalma mounted Erik speedily, grabbing his dick at the base before lowering herself on him.

None of the sex is quite as good as vampire sex, though, which can happen at the astonishing rhythm of 120 bpm while simultaneously devouring one’s neck and making your eyes roll back into your head. If they go from a base level, vampires create a hole in the neck where there wasn’t one before. It’s a devirginization—breaking the hymen, creating blood and then drinking the virginal blood. And there’s something sharp, the fang, which is probing and penetrating and moving into it which is pretty sexy.

As she bounced on his dick Erik fed from her neck, tasting the very blood that heightened the feeling like ecstasy. His strong, powerful hips met hers in sort of a race to see who was in charge. Mama Dalma clawed at Erik’s chest with her sharp nails, creating deep claw marks that healed instantly. Her nimble body moved at a swift speed above Erik causing him to grip her hips to try and keep her in place. They were fucking so hard and fast that the bed banged against the floor loudly. The mind-blowing passion was most exhilarating while feeding. It’s not simply “feeding” but it’s sex, breathing, having the best dinner you’ve ever had, feeling the life force of another filling you and making your flagging essence re-surge with vitality. It bolstered your sense of well-being as well as gave life to your body, mind, and demon spirit.

The sensation of feeding is akin to an orgasm, but even more powerfully so in some instances, particularly when properly hungry, which is why stopping can be an issue for vampires. That’s what Erik was experiencing. He lets out a guttural rasp, gasping for air until Mama Dalma finally stops. Erik sucked on her nipples and trailed kisses all over her flesh before forcing her head down so he could nibble on her lips with his fangs. Her moans were stuck in her throat the more Erik fed from her lips. She couldn’t get enough of it, and neither could he.

_____________________

After three months of torture, kill, and sex, Erik became concerned for his family’s welfare when a pox epidemic broke out. Just when he was finally accepting his vampire life, Erik was soon reminded of his mortal family and how they must be struggling to survive. Maybe the faith of the Vodou Religion kept them stable but this epidemic was killing hundreds of people. After Mama Dalma and Erik had sex at their home in the shack, Mama Dalma went to ground earlier and that gave Erik an opportunity to check in on his family. He speeds over to his forest home, peeking through the trees to see how things were. It was dark inside, almost lifeless. Erik became afraid and made the risky choice to approach the home. Out in the clearing now, Erik walked towards the home, nervous and afraid for his family to see him like this.

“Ricardo?! Ricardo se ke ou?!”

It was Justine, standing on the porch wearing a poor Victorian style dress made from cotton with her hair wrapped in a tigon. She looked exhausted with dark circles under her eyes. She was 30-years-old now, and his daughters would be 8-years-old. Fabiola’s birthday had just passed in August, she turned 56-years-old. All of the time had slipped away. Living as a vampire, time wasn’t important with the exception of when dawn was approaching. Justine had lost weight, her fullness that Erik loved no longer there.

“Kote ou te ye?!!” She yells while running down the front steps to their home. She wrapped her arms around Erik’s neck, pulling him down into a tight, suffocating hug. Erik’s nose landed in her hair and it smelled earthy, floral, sweet, and relaxing. This was the scent he remembered. It took all of his will power not to sink his teeth into her neck. They stayed like that for some time while she weeped into his cotton shirt.

“Ti fi Yo? Manman m?” Erik asks, pulling Justine away by her upper arms so that he could look at her. He asked where the girls and his mother were. Justine broke down crying again, her knees buckling. Erik held her tightly while a crease formed in his brow.

“Ricardo, ou ta dwe retounen!!!! Poukisa ou kite nou!!!!” Justine attempted to push Erik over and over but he wasn’t moving.

Hearing Justine refer to him as Ricardo felt strange. He almost forgot that was his birth name.

“I had to leave...for ya safety...dem white men would have killed all of ya.” Erik squeezed her tightly to calm her down.

“Fabiola...li mouri.” Justine’s voice was barely audible when she told him the news. Erik felt like he was dying all over again. Fabiola was dead.

“How?” He asks, holding back his tears.

“Fever... a year ago... couldn’t save her...she died in her sleep,” Justine’s words halted as she began to cry again, “Her last dyin’ wish was to see ya again but ya never came back!” Justine looked at him like she was looking at a stranger, “Ya look so different, Ricardo.”

“Da girls, Justine, I want to see dem,” Erik says.

“Ya too late,” Justine fought for oxygen in his arms.

Erik’s eyes grew wide and he stormed past Justine and into the house. There, lying in a coffin, was Rose Fabiola Dupoux and Felicie Ines Dupoux. They are dressed in cotton gowns, one purple and one pink with floral crowns and white dress shoes. Their coily hair is long and luscious, even in death. The last time he saw them they were five years old, running through the little garden in their yard, playing hide-n-seek. They were covered in pox that left nasty scars on their beautiful melanin skin. Erik couldn’t stop the bloody tears that began to flow. He walked up to their wooden coffins, his hands reaching out to touch them. Erik dropped to his knees, loud, uncontrollable sobs filling the room as his body shook.

“I tried, Ricardo...dere was nothin’ I could do,” Justine kneeled by his side, resting her head against his shoulder, “Dese precious girls…I prayed to Papa Ghede for help but nothing worked. I’ve exhausted all of my tears…I accept dat dem girls have to go...Marie is dead, ya mother is dead...I had no one to turn to.”

Erik stands, walking up to each of his daughters to place a final kiss to their heads. He felt disgusting. If he wouldn’t have chosen this life, he would have been here for his daughters, he would have been here for mother, and he would have been here to comfort his grieving wife. He couldn’t begin to understand what Justine was going through. She assumed that Erik had perished when he left their home to go with Augusto. Justine clings to Erik so tightly she was afraid he would slip through her fingers. Erik tried to hide his face from her but Justine’s delicate fingers smoothed his dreads from his face so that she could give him a kiss. It’s been three years.

“Ricardo, ya so cold,” She says before her eyes fell upon the bloody tears spilling from his eyes. Frightened, Justine practically leaps away from him before grabbing a shotgun that used to be Erik’s. She pointed it at Erik’s back with her shaky hands before cocking the gun.

“Who are ya?! Wut did ya do with my husband? Ya not Ricardo, ya are a demon!!!! A zombie!!!” Ricardo turns, his hands up in surrender. The blood tears made him look like a monster.

“Justine, it’s me...it’s Ricardo,” Erik walks towards her, “I won’t hurt ya. I just wanted to check on ya to make sure everything was fine. I can’t stay, not like dis-

“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!!!” Justine yells, “I WILL SHOOT YA!!!”

“Justine-

Pop!

Justine shoots Erik in the chest. He stumbles back with disbelief that she just shot him before his eyes went down to stare at his wound. The bullet wound healed immediately causing the bullet fragments to fall on the floor. Justine drops the gun, screaming at the top of her lungs while running towards the door.

“Justine! Wait!” Erik was right on her tail but his maker, Mama Dalma unexpectedly appeared at the door. She grabs Justine, pulling her towards her and holding her hostage with her hands, yanking the tigon from her head and grabbing her by her hair, pushing her down to her knees. Erik’s fangs extended, ready to attack Mama Dalma. Justine gawked at the sight of his fangs. She was ready to scream but Mama Dalma brought her to her feet speedily, wrapping a single hand around her neck.

“If yuh so much as scream, I will rip yuh throat out,” She spoke between clenched teeth before showing Justine her fangs, “I don’t care if yuh are Ricardo’s wife or not, I will FUCKIN’ kill yuh.” Mama Dalma snarled in Justine’s face, scaring her half to death. Justine was paralyzed with fear.

“Tia, let her go...now,” Erik says as anger stirred within him.

“Yuh planned on leaving mi? Erik?”

Panic surged through Justine, “Erik?! Who is Erik?!”

“Yuh hear deh? She wants to know who Erik is…tell her, Erik, tell her who deh is,” The corners of her mouth quirked up into an evil smile, “TELL HER!!!!”

“I’m Erik, Justine,” Erik spoke to Justine but his eyes were focused on Mama Dalma.

“So, if yuh Erik, why would Yuh come back after I told Yuh not to? Dis isn’t yuh life anymore. When yuh left yuh home that night, yuh left Ricardo behind.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Justine’s stomach clenched.

“Of course yuh wouldn’t understand, child, it’s alright, yuh won’t see Erik anymore after dis...Erik, yuh know wuh yuh have to do, right?”

“Tia-

“DO IT. It’s either deh, or I kill her.”

“I can’t do dat to her-

“So killin’ her is better? Fine,” Tia was on Justine fast, Feeding on her viciously from her neck. Justine’s throat tightened and she could no longer scream.

“STOP!” Erik speeds over to Mama Dalma only for her to push him off of the porch. Erik fell painfully against the ground.

“AS YUH MAKER-

“ENOUGH!!!” Erik yelled so loud his voice could probably be heard a mile away, “Awrite, I’ll do it...I’ll glamor her.”

Tia drops Justine carelessly, “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Justine’s body felt numb and the blood froze in her veins. Erik approached her, his eyes locking with hers, holding her gaze before finally connecting with her brain. Justine was transfixed under Erik’s spell. He tried to hold back his tears but they disobeyed him.

“Justine,” Erik strokes her face with his fingertips, “Ya never saw me, ya never saw her, I am dead, have been for da past three years. Ya will move on with ya life, start a new one hopefully because ya deserve it.”

“Yes,” Justine’s pensive eyed saddened Erik.

“Now, I want ya to go on upstairs and get some rest. Rose and Felicie will be buried in da St. Louis Cemetery. Ya can go visit dem anytime ya want.”

“I’d like that,” Justine says.

“I know, baby,” Erik kisses her forehead. He brings his fingertip to one of his fangs, pricking it before bringing it down to the bite mark on her neck, rubbing his blood into the wound to heal it, “Everything will be just fine.”

Erik stared at Justine one final time before she stood up, walking into the house and up the stairs. Erik’s temper sparked again when he noticed Mama Dalma smiling like the entire thing was a joke.

“If you would have killed her, I would have ripped ya fucking head off,” Erik says.

“With what strength more than mine? Yuh can be angry all yuh please but dis needed to be done. Now, yuh have no reason to come back here.”

“Ya evil, ya have no remorse, I’m exactly like ya. Didn’t care to check on my family, I let my manman die, my babies die, Nothin’ will change dat.” Erik was defeated.

“Like I told Yuh, yuh are a vampire now. Deh won’t EVER understand deh. Keep this up, and yuh will end up dead. If anotha vampire catches yuh acting weak deh will make an example out of yuh. It’s okay...I have a lot more to teach yuh. Now, let’s bury deh babies and leave for good. Deh is deh last time I’m telling yuh.”

“Erik Stevens,” A single bloody tear fell from Erik’s eye.

“When yuh bury deh babies, yuh burying Ricardo Dupoux. As yuh maker, I command yuh to never come back here, and never go back to deh cemetery. Do yuh hear mi, child?”

Erik simply nods his head before walking into his old home to grab the coffins that held his deceased daughters. What this vampire life has in store for him Erik could only hope it would get better.

#killmonger smut #Erik Killmonger #black panther killmonger #vampire #nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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chipper9906 · 3 years ago

Text

Heal The Cracks Within My Heart - Chapter 5: Old Friends Made Anew

<- - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON 1 EPISODE 6 ‘FOR ALL TIME. ALWAYS.’

Pairings: Loki/Sylvie

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 6,344

Overall Word Count: 48,317 (In Progress)

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (5/?)

Chapter Preview:

Coming from the unbearable heat of whatever desert-type planet they had come from and walking into the almost tropical level of heat of this new place was downright pleasant. Loki blinked in surprise as they stepped out onto more sand, though it was also combined with the refreshing breeze blowing in from the ocean that crashed down around his feet. The water was crystal clear up close, but the more it stretched out, the more it took on the vivid turquoise colors of the beaches he had seen in those jet-ski magazines on Mobius’s desk.

“Quite the Time-Loop…” Loki whirls around in place, taking in the sight of people lounging around on bed-like chairs. Most had drinks in hands, others were passed out asleep and only half under the cover of the straw umbrellas overhead, their other half more than likely burning away as they cooked in the day’s heat. “Better than being kicked in a rather sensitive area over and over again, that’s for sure…”

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* * *

On his first shift, Loki lets Sylvie sleep for a little bit longer than their agreed shift times.

He isn’t too sure how, but Sylvie somehow seems to know that he was waking her up a couple of hours into what should have been her shift. It was almost funny watching her try to decide whether to express her gratitude for his thoughtfulness or be annoyed that he had let her sleep in when they had clearly agreed to set shift times.

The second time he wakes her up for her shift, he tries to do so with the morning kiss that he had promised (with try being the keyword here). It had been quite early in the morning, judging by the faint light that had started to filter in through the ceiling and partly illuminate the cave. Loki summarized that, with that small amount of light, that Sylvie would be able to recognize it was him when she woke up and hold herself back enough not to stab him immediately on sight.

He was mostly right. It had started well enough – running the back of his hand softly down her face as she began to stir and tucking a few wry strands of hair behind her ear. He waited until she was mostly awake, just seconds away from transitioning into that deep sleep to a groggy awareness, before leaning across her and pressing a feather-light kiss to her lips.

For a few seconds, Loki thought it had been a success. Of course, that thought flew straight out of his head the moment he felt her body go tense under his. It was remarkable how quickly she had snatched her sword up from her side, and he could at least appreciate the feel of the blade pressing against his side instead of in his side.

“Oh,” Sylvie breathed in surprise as recognition filtered in through drowsy eyes, the sharp pinch of the blade end against his side quickly disappearing as she drops her weapon. “Gods, did I…?”

“Nope, completely stab free,” Loki assures her.

“I did warn you…”

“And I said I’d still take the risk,” Loki countered with a cocky grin.

Sylvie wanted to wipe that grin off his face as he hovered over her, and she did so by grabbing hold of collar of his dress shirt and yanking him down. Loki was barely able to catch himself, hands spread out on either side of Sylvie as she surged up to claim his lips with her own.

She could still feel his smile against her mouth, though this one was less of the typical arrogance he displayed and more of… of contentedness. Dare she say ‘happiness’, even? Whatever it was, she found she didn’t mind it – even if it did make it a little awkward to kiss him.

It was almost surprising that nothing of note occurs during their watches: no more giant lizards set on peeling away the meat from their bones, no unruly citizens that didn’t appreciate their presence on this planet, no brown and orange-clad TVA workers materializing from thin air and whisking them away.

Some might call Loki stupid for making an attempt to kiss Sylvie awake for the second time. If he’s being honest with himself, he did feel a little nervous as he leaned down, trying to resist the urge to push her sword out of reach; not that it would do any good since she’s apparently a natural at conjuring and would probably have a dagger materialized and plunged into his chest before he knows it.

But this time, it seemed that Sylvie was expecting it – or, maybe, she really was starting to break out of the habit of attacking anyone that touched her whilst coming out of such a vulnerable state. There is a split second where she goes from ‘sleeping still’ to ‘unnaturally and very much alert’ still – which is the moment his nerves hit their peak – but Loki’s then pleasantly surprised by the way she seems to relax into his hold, pushing up into the kiss rather than forcefully pushing him away as he had expected.

“Good morning,” Loki rumbles in greeting as they separate, drinking in the sleepy smile she gives him in response.

“Well, we weren’t killed in the night, so I think I can agree with it being a ‘good morning’,”

Loki narrowed his eyes playfully at her. “Oh? And it being a ‘good morning’ has nothing to do with my method of waking you?”

“Hmm… I suppose it helped a little…”

Sylvie suppressed a grin at the roll of his eyes, pushing up and away from her with an overly-exasperated sounding huff. Loki offered out a hand to her once he was settled, helping to pull her up into a sitting position.

“How was your sleep?” Loki asks once she’s sat up, holding out a flask of water that he had collected shortly before waking her.

“Surprisingly well,” Sylvie takes the flask with a thankful smile, the early morning sun already starting to bake the cave. “–Considering I had a bunch of little rocks stabbing me in the back.”

“You should have said something,” Loki says, waiting for the moment she takes a deep pull from the flask before continuing. “I would have been more than happy to act as your personal pillow once again.”

To his disappointment, she does not spit out the water all over himself like he had the night before. She does give a slight pause though, arching up a brow at him as she continues to drink from the canteen.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” She returns once she pulls the flask away from her mouth, holding out the flask for him to take back and take a drink himself.

Loki looks down to the flask in his hands, fingers tapping against the metal as he thinks. “So… we survived the night.”

“Somehow,” Sylvie added.

“Guess that means we can assume this isn’t an apocalypse? And that we’re somehow off the TVA’s radar?”

Sylvie sighed softly, resting the back of her head against the wall behind her. “Assume? Yes, but we can’t know for sure. There’s a chance that… that maybe…”

“That what?” Loki pries, sensing her reluctance to speak what was on her mind.

“You’ve seen the TVA first hand, perhaps even more than I have. You’ve seen the intricacies of how they work, of how dedicated they are to ensuring the timeline goes the way He Who Remains had decided it needs to go.”

“I suppose so, yes,” Loki agreed slowly, wondering where Sylvie was going with this.

“What’s the one reason why the TVA wouldn’t be interfering with a branch?” Sylvie asks. “The one reason they don’t get involved?”

“An Apocalypse?” Loki guesses, and Sylvie shakes her head ‘no’ at him.

“An Apocalypse isn’t a branch. They’re not interfering there because there’s nothing to happen that would affect the timeline.”

“Then… what-,”

“The only time they don’t interfere-,” Sylvie continues. “-Is because there’s nothing to interfere with. Because we’re abiding by the timeline.”

“But… there’s no one controlling the timeline anymore,” Loki points out.

“How do we know that?” Sylvie stresses. “You want to know the last thing ‘He Who Remains’ said to me? He said ‘See you soon’. He told us he’d be right back in that office, didn’t he? How do we know some other version of him isn’t already up there, waiting for us to go find him again and… start all this shit over again.”

“I… I suppose it’s a possibility,” Loki reluctantly agrees. “But, from what He was describing of the other variants of Him… I imagine it’s Him that’s going to be tracking down us.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It means we’re not living by the story that He’s written so… a little, I’d hope?”

That did make Sylvie feel a little better, actually. Not enough to overpower the paranoia that an endless amount of variants of a man that controlled infinite universes could be personally hunting them down, but still – a little better was better than nothing.

“Either way, we’ve got a Hel of a fight ahead of us,” Sylvie points out the obvious.

“Unless we keep hiding like this…?” Loki jokes – or at least, Sylvie assumes he’s joking.

Sylvie exhales sharply from her nose, shaking her head side to side. “I’ve been running my whole life. I’m done running, Loki.”

“Okay then,” Loki says, apparently on board with whatever it is that Sylvie wants to do. “So… what’s the plan?”

“We’re going to do the only other thing I know how to do,” Sylvie answers. “We’re going to fight.”

“Oh, no -- I get that,” Loki got out in a rush. “I meant more what’s the plan for today? Are we going to stay on this Hel-Hole and try to find some kind of power source for your TemPad?”

“Only if it comes to it,” Sylvie didn’t quite fancy the idea of trudging through all that sand and potentially facing even more pissed-off wildlife. She rotated her wrist so the surface of the TemPad was facing up towards her, running a finger along it to wake it up. “Never thought I’d be saying this, but… I suppose we should see if there’s enough juice left in this thing to get us back to the TVA…”

“-Wait, hang on a second,” Loki reaches out a hand to stop her from activating anything on the TemPad. Sylvie pauses, looking up to him with her brows raised in surprise. “How will we know which TVA it’ll take us to?”

“We won’t,” Sylvie answers grimly. “If things go south quickly, then we can just grab another TemPad and get the Hel out of there. At least with one of the TVA’s TemPads, I know how to use them and how to charge them -- and that they can even be charged.”

“And then what? Sylvie, we need the TVA’s help with this, whether we like it or not. They’ll know more about what’s going on out there than we do. We need to know how to use that TemPad properly: how to jump between multiverses; how to select specific timelines to travel to. Otherwise… we’ll end up lost in a web of universes.”

“Then… then I don’t know,” Sylvie admitted defeat. “We can’t just keep jumping between TVA’s, hoping that the next will be ours, or at least better than the one before. But we also can’t just go up to whoever at whatever TVA we end up in and demand they tell us all they know. Magic doesn’t work in the TVA, remember? So, enchanting is off the table. Really, we’ll be lucky we aren’t surrounded and with a collar around our necks the second we step in there…”

“Or… come face to face with another version of Him…” Loki says, grimacing at the thought.

Then, an idea springs to mind. Loki straightens up as the realization hits him, turning to Sylvie. “Almost sounds like… we could use a guide?”

Sylvie frowns at him. “A guide?”

“Of course!” Loki exclaims. “Someone who’s familiar with the TVA perhaps? Someone who knows their way around the place, knows what files to find, holds some information that could be of use to us?”

“Well, yeah, that’d be great,” Sylvie says, frown still etched onto her face. “But there’s no one in the TVA that would help us.”

“What if they’re not in the TVA?” Loki counters with an excited smile. “At least, not right at this moment.”

Sylvie’s narrowed-eyed look of suspicion grows. “….Such as who…?”

“Well…” Loki trails off, glancing down to the TemPad on Sylvie’s hand, and then back up to her. “You think there’s enough juice in that thing to re-open a time-loop?”

* * *

Sylvie was right: Mobius’s time-loop was nice.

Which… kind of explained why they were here, he supposed. It was kind of comforting knowing that, despite they weren’t the same Mobius’s, they seemed to share the same type of desires. And, if this was the good memory Sylvie had recreated in a Time-Loop for him, then… perhaps he was more like his Mobius than he thought. Perhaps… they had a good chance of swaying this Mobius over to their side.

That was enough for Sylvie’s eyes to freeze in place from where they were scanning across this unknown environment, slowly turning to Loki with a questioning look. “I’m not sure if I even want to ask…”

Loki could only shrug. “It’s not a good day when you lose count of the number of times someone’s kneed you in the crotch…”

Even Sylvie had to wince at that.

Loki placed his hands on his hips as he peered out to the bay they found themselves in, searching the crowds of people both in the ocean and on the beach itself for a familiar gray hair and mustache combo. Even in what was only a re-construction of an actual time – more of a memory, really – the two of them still gained a few curious looks. This was to be expected, of course, being the only two people dressed like they didn’t belong: one looking like he had just come from the office, and the other looking like she had just returned from battle.

“Do you remember where he was last time?” Loki asks Sylvie, wading through the shallow water and out onto mostly dry land where she stood. “I’m saying this under the assumption you didn’t just shove him through the Time-Door and slam it closed behind you, of course.”

“I couldn’t exactly hang about in here,” Sylvie retorted. “I was working on getting you out of the TVA, remember?

“So… you did shove him through the Time-Door and slam it closed behind you?”

“No,” Sylvie all but groaned. “I told you already, I had to enchant him to keep him calm. It sort of… placated him, I think. Helped remind him that he actually enjoyed the life taken from him. At least, enough so that he would forget about the TVA for a little while and just… re-live his memories. But I don’t know how long that would have lasted. The effects of enchantments don’t last forever…”

That… was better than so many other outcomes, Loki thought.

“In that case, I can’t imagine he’ll be too thrilled to see us again…” Loki said, now more on the lookout for a very disgruntled, ‘could possibly throw a punch on sight if they’re not careful’ mustached man. “Is there any chance he could have escaped? Maybe there’s some kind of… escape hatch of some sorts that we don’t know about?”

“Uh… I’m gonna guess no,” Sylvie had her eyes fixated on something in the distance, which Loki – who was still busy searching the closer vicinity – did not notice.

“And why’s that-,” Loki begins to ask, but stops talking when Sylvie grabs at his arm for his attention, pointing out to a section of the bay not too far ahead.

“Because Mobius is right there… and… Loki, I don’t think he’s alone.”

Sylvie was right. As they trekked across the beach and closer to Mobius, ignoring the stares of the cautious but, thankfully, fake beach-goers, they could clearly make out that it wasn’t just Mobius sat upon the jet-ski that they had spotted him ripping around the bay.

“Now you see, you want to be a little bit less trigger happy with the throttle there.”

A part of Loki didn’t want to approach Mobius anymore. Even Sylvie seemed to hesitate, her long strides turning shorter and sluggish just as his do the closer they get. The jet-ski had been brought to a standstill, bobbing away on the peaceful waves near the shore. Seeing Mobius without his usual suit and tie get-up was jarring enough, so seeing him in only a pair of swim-shorts was quite the sight. Mobius had his body craned around a young boy that sat in front of him on the jet-ski, pointing out various instruments of the vehicle as he – presumably – was giving the child some driving tips.

“Trust me kiddo, I get the need for speed same as you do,” Mobius said with a gleaming grin, patting the boy on his shoulder. “But I think it’d be best we avoid giving your mom a heart attack if we take off like that again.”

Loki wanted to sink into the sand. He wanted an astronomically large tidal wave to appear out of nowhere and swallow him up. Mobius did have a family. A family. And he had had that taken away from him. Somewhere out there is his Mobius, trying to turn the TVA around, trying to do the right thing, and he doesn't even know.

The two of them probably looked incredibly suspicious – just stood there in the sand, dressed in clothes that definitely were not beach appropriate, watching a father and son live out one of their fondest memories. Luckily, Mobius hadn’t noticed them just yet, his focus solely on his son who rolled his eyes at his father just as every child who thinks they know better than their parents does.

“What if I take us out slowly around the corner of the bay, then once we’re out of sight from mom I can really open her up?”

Mobius laughed heartily at his son’s enthusiasm, giving his son’s shoulders a playful shake when he pouted at his father's reaction.

“Well, for one… I think us being out of her sight would give her even more of a heart attack,” Mobius said. “And secondly… you know better than I do that your mother has eyes in the back of her head. Really, there’s no such thing as ‘out of sight.'"

“That’s the right answer.”

Both Loki and Sylvie looked over to the woman who had seemingly appeared from within the crowded beach, walking over to the edge of the beach and stopping just before the incoming waves would reach her feet. She looked to be around the same age as Mobius, although her black hair had streaks of gray running through it instead of being fully gray as Mobius’s was. Her face looked kind, ingrained with laughter lines that hinted at a well-loved life.

“How many others do you think are out there?” Sylvie got out through gritted teeth, the heat in her voice taking Loki by surprise.

“How many of what?”

“Families ripped apart by Him,” Sylvie answered, her face scrunched up in disgust. “People who, just like us, took one wrong step – as decided by Him – and were just… whisked away from their lives, brainwashed, and forced to work for the group that had kidnapped them in the first place. And their families?”

Sylvie laughs a humorless laugh, gesturing with a lazy flick of her hand to Mobius and his family. “Nothing more than memories now. His real family were… well, they were just another meal for Alioth, I suppose.”

“Until you changed that,” Loki said softly, tearing his eyes away from Mobius and down to Sylvie next to him. “Somewhere out there… there’s a variant of Mobius that was never taken from his family. Infinite variants, even.”

“And what of this variants family?” Sylvie asks, gesturing to Mobius with a flick of her chin. “And what of our Mobius? What I did doesn’t change their fate.”

“No, but at least now they have the opportunity to make a difference,” Loki stressed his words, the back of his hand lightly brushing against hers in an attempt at comfort. “They can help us to make sure no other variants of themselves have to go through what they went through.”

“...Dad?” The sound of the young boy's fear-filled voice snapped their attention back. It seemed that Mobius’s son had been the first to spot them, his eyes fixated on the two mysterious strangers who had been watching them. “Dad, who is that?”

The moment Mobius’s eyes landed on them, it was like he changed into a different person completely. Gone was the carefree and laid-back father. Gone was the happy-looking family man spending a day at the beach. His entire demeanor hardened, eyes cold and calculated as he stared at them. He could no longer pretend that this Time-Loop was his life. Now, he was faced with the reminder of why he was here in the first place.

“Get over to your mom real quick, would you?” Mobius instructed his son, but he kept his gaze solely on them. “I need to talk with… some people from work.”

Mobius’s son looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but knew better. He slid down from the jet-ski in a hurry, wading through the shallow water as fast as his little legs would carry him over to his mother. It was only once the young boy had safely reached his mother’s side – who briskly pulled him out of sight – that Mobius moved from the jet-ski. He slowly slid down from the vehicle, keeping a hand on its seat as he stands silently, waiting for them to come to him.

Loki and Sylvie exchange nervous glances, unsure as to whether this was going to be an actual talk, or more… the kind of talking you do with clashes of steel and the spilling of blood. Then again, it wasn’t exactly like Mobius was able to hide a weapon when he’s clad in only a pair of swim-shorts…

Loki and Sylvie both nod at each other in silent understanding, choosing not to pull out their weapons and potentially freak out the people around them – even if they were nothing more than memories. They both slowly advance towards Mobius, who continues to stare them down, understandably cautious of their approach.

“Mobius…” Loki says his name conservatively in greeting.

Mobius’s eyes flick between Loki and Sylvie, landing on the both of them for a few seconds each before settling on Loki. “Loki.”

“You remember my name?”

“Not every day I have someone in a TVA uniform come up to me in a blind panic, tell me they don’t actually work for the TVA, tries to get me to turn against my people, and then disappears around the same time I find myself kidnapped and placed in a Time-Loop.”

Loki and Sylvie look to one another again, a movement that – surprisingly – get’s Mobius to groan in annoyance.

“And here I was thinking what happened with you two was just two random different events. Should have known you were both involved with one another,” Mobius sighs, glancing back to where his family had disappeared into the sea of people. “So… what now? You here to kill me?”

“No,” Loki answered, voice pitched up in surprise that Mobius would think that. “No, nothing like that, Mobius. We just… we want to talk.”

“About what?”

“About the TVA,” Sylvie said, garnering Mobius’s attention.

Mobius narrowed his eyes at her, head tilted to the side as he looked her up and down. “And… who are you, exactly? I didn’t quite get your name before you–” Mobius bent his arm, mimicking a choking motion. “–put me in a choke-hold and violated my privacy by digging around in my memories.”

Sylvie at least had enough kindness to look ashamed at her actions. “My name is Sylvie.”

“Sylvie…” Mobius repeated her name, dropping his arm back down. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of you.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Loki piped up. “Sylvie is, uh… well, technically she’s me. Another variant of me, anyway. And if what you said about me not being on your files was true, then… Sylvie wouldn’t be, either.”

“Hang on, what?” Sylvie spluttered, wheeling around to face Loki. “We don’t exist in this timeline?”

“I guess not?” Loki said, sounding unsure. “Either that, or we haven’t done anything in this timeline to become variants.”

“Wow…” Mobius interjected, staring out blankly into the distance. “I knew that whatever had happened to make the sacred timeline erupt like that would be bad but… I don’t even want to think about the shambles it must be in right now…”

“Believe me, you don’t even know the half of it,” Sylvie grumbled.

“Mobius, you…” Loki begins, the corner of his mouth pulling into an uncomfortable grimace. “I don’t get it. You’re a variant-,”

“I’m aware,” Mobius stated dryly.

“Already told him, Loki,” Sylvie reminded him.

“But… now you know that your TVA isn’t the only TVA,” Loki pointed out. “Your timeline isn’t even the sacred timeline. Hel, mine and Sylvie’s timeline weren’t the sacred timeline, either. We just sort of… found our way onto it.”

Mobius cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at them. “And… how did that happen?”

“Well… you, actually,” Loki said. “You – the version of you we know – was trying to track Sylvie down. I had been brought in by the TVA for, um… you know what, it’s not important. You stopped me from being reset. You thought that the best person to track down me would be… me.”

Mobius huffed out a breath of laughter at that, crossing his arms against his chest. “I’m assuming the other me was right?”

“Well, I did find her,” Loki said, voice full of pride as he jabbed a thumb in Sylvie’s direction. “And… well, it’s…”

“I have an idea,” Sylvie suddenly whispered in realization. “We could try telling you what happened, but I doubt you’ll believe us.”

Mobius shrugged his shoulders in a way that said that would be exactly the case.

“Alright, fine,” Sylvie said, and before either Mobius or Loki knew what she was doing, she grabbed hold of Loki’s arm before stepping forward and grabbing Mobius’s.

Loki didn’t even know that enchantment could work this way. Instead of searching through Mobius’s memories, she was scrounging through both hers and his and, like a reel of film, she let them play. All three of them watched as the series of events that had led them here flitted by: Loki crash landing in the deserts of Mongolia and swiftly being apprehended by the TVA, and coming face to face with Mobius for the first time as he saves him from being reset –

– Sylvie burning the TVA workers to a crisp in the fields of the past and snatching the reset charges left behind –

– Loki and Mobius discovering Sylvie’s hiding trick within the Apocalypses of the Universe; the first time Loki sets eyes on the other version of himself as she playfully waves at him before stepping through the Time-Door –

– The two of them running through Lamentis, just trying to survive an event that no living being is supposed to survive; the moment that a nexus event Mobius had never seen before spikes on the monitor, as two of the same beings reach out for one another –

– Loki pleading with Mobius with everything he’s got to believe him, that Mobius had been taken from his life just as everyone else in the TVA had –

– The brief moment it seemed they may have a chance before Mobius was pruned before Loki’s very eyes, losing one of the few friends he’s ever had in his entire life –

– Watching in horror as the decapitated head of a Time-Keeper falls to their feet, realizing that the all-knowing Time-Keepers were nothing more than robots being used for show to keep the workers of the TVA in line. Then, that small yet significant moment where Loki dared to take a leap he never thought he would make, only to feel his body disintegrate as Renslayer’s pruning stick is pressed against this heart –

– Sylvie, not long after, shoving that very same pruning stick into her heart, joining him in the Void. The briefest of glimpses she got of the Citadel as she grabbed hold of a part of Alioth, before being reunited with the man she had spent her life running away from. All three of them, accompanied by a few peculiar Loki variants, hatching a plan to bring down the TVA once more –

– A tender goodbye shared between a rapidly formed yet strong bond between the three; a hand stuck out in an attempt of a goodbye that was deemed not enough by Loki, who couldn’t bear to let the other man leave without a word of thanks, both spoken aloud and with the gesture of arms wrapped around one another –

– Stepping through into that Citadel that sat on the edge of time, the two of them being offered what was once all they ever wanted. Then finally, finally, meeting the man responsible for it all. Listening as he regaled his life story, trying valiantly to defend his actions to two people whose actions he had wronged –

– Loki’s hand on her shoulder, trying desperately to pull her back as she advanced towards He Who Remains with sword in hand. Loki’s heart-filled attempt to get Sylvie to stop before all hell breaks loose, and they find themselves fighting the one person they never truly want to hurt. Then, knowing what she knows, Sylvie chooses to let herself enjoy the briefest of moments where Loki made her feel like she could be okay before shoving him through that Time-Door –

– The emptiness Sylvie felt inside as she plunged her sword into He Who Remains’s chest, feeling no sense of the satisfaction she thought she’d feel as the light left his eyes. That emptiness being replaced by complete and utter regret as she watched the timeline ripping itself apart, already imagining all the other versions of Him forming into existence as she dropped to the ground –

– Loki’s similar feeling of emptiness as he sat within the TVA, the shock steadily giving away to the aching pain in his chest, now knowing what it felt like to be on the other side of a Loki betrayal. That pain only becoming infinitely worse as he finds the friend he was looking for, only to be slapped with the realization that whilst the man in front of him may have bore the same face as the man he knows, he was now nothing more than a stranger to him –

Mobius gasped as he was wrenched out from the memories, nearly falling over his jet-ski as he stumbled back and away from the two of them. Loki instinctively reached out a hand to help steady him, but stopped himself, unsure as to how this Mobius might react. Mobius’s face was scrunched in pain, holding a hand up to his head as the images of what he had seen remained burned in his memory.

“I know it’s a lot,” Sylvie said apologetically. “But it’s important. I… we needed you to see.”

“I… I don’t understand…” Mobius mumbled, his eyes rapidly moving side to side as he was lost in his thoughts. “Why… why wouldn’t He tell us? He… he told us our jobs were important, that we were protecting the entirety of time, but… we didn’t know we were protecting it from Him.”

“Do you see now?” Loki asks, taking a risk and stepping closer to Mobius. “Your leader… he isn’t the only one of him out there now, and if we don’t do something, then… there will be nothing left but death and suffering.”

Mobius swallowed harshly, giving a small nod of his head as he struggled to get his thoughts under control. “I… I don’t even know what to do, now… Everything I thought I knew, it’s… it’s…”

“It’s never how you think it is,” Sylvie finishes for him. “But you can help us, Mobius. Help us find a way to make things right.”

“How?” Mobius asked, forcing his head up to look to Sylvie. “I’m just an analyst-,”

“Precisely!” Loki cut him off. “You know more about the inner workings of the TVA and the timelines than we do. If you don’t want to get involved, that’s fine. All we’re asking is for some information from you. Give us a chance to find some people that can help, and fix this whole mess.”

Mobius sighed, running a shaking hand through his hair. “I… I suppose that might be possible… What kind of information are we talking about here?”

“For starters-,” Sylvie brought up her hand, showing Mobius the TemPad wrapped around it. “-Any information you have on this thing would be good.”

“His TemPad…” Mobius uttered in amazement, looking moments away from reaching out for it before thinking better of his actions.

“His?” Loki asks. “Does your version of ‘He Who Remains’ have one of these, too?”

“That he does…” Mobius confirms, looking almost transfixed by the TemPad. “I’ve never actually been able to see it up close myself – having never met Him face to face – but… I know of it. Not much, I have to warn you. Although… there might be some files on it stored away within the TVA…"

“He keeps files about it?” Sylvie asked.

“It’s His pride and joy,” Mobius answered with a short chuckle. “While we’re left slumming it with the older versions, he’s the only one that gets to use the ‘new and improved’ model.”

“Huh… guess your version of ‘He Who Remains’ is kind of similar to the one we know,” Sylvie noted, running a finger across the TemPad.

“I wouldn’t know,” Mobius said with a shrug of his shoulders. “He’s just sort of… there. An imposing leader. A…”

“A threat?” Sylvie guessed. “Something to keep you in line?”

Mobius paused, pondering over her answer for a moment. “Kind of. Someone to respect, but also… someone to fear.”

Mobius twisted his neck around, looking around to the crowd of people that were still around them. He turned back to them, flicking his head for them to follow as he moves away from the jet-ski, making his way onto the shore. Loki and Sylvie obediently follow, keeping on Mobius’s heels as he carves a path through the name-less beach-goers.

“I don’t think I can do much for you,” Mobius said over his shoulder as they pushed through to a less densely populated area of the beach. “I’m… I’m not much of a fighter; I wasn’t trained for that. I know how to find information that would be of use to me, and apply it effectively. That’s what I’m good at.”

“And that’s all we’re asking of you,” Loki said. “We could really use a guide through the TVA.”

Mobius came to a stop with a heavy sigh, spinning around on the spot to face them. “I hope you realize what you’re asking of me here. The TVA it’s… it’s all I know. They’re my family-,”

“No, they’re your family,” Sylvie insisted, pointing back to the crowd of people they had walked away from. “And I know there’s nothing we can do to bring them back. But the person who did this to you, who took you away from your family? He’s still out there.”

“I know,” Mobius said gently, eyes glazed over as he looked to where Sylvie had been pointing. “I thought that… that the ends justified the means. I knew that I was doing to other people what had been done to me, but… He… He was so assuring, you know? He made us believe there was truly no other way.”

“He’s a very convincing man,” Loki agreed, glancing over to Sylvie with an awkward wince. “But we’re going to find a way to stop him. There has to be a way for the multi-verse to exist in peace. We just need to remove the dictator – every version of Him.

Mobius nodded at that, taking in a deep breath through his nose. “Okay then,” He said, shortly before spinning back around and walking away from them.

Loki and Sylvie looked at each other, eyebrows raised in surprise as Mobius continued to just walk away from them. “Wait -- where are you going?” Loki called out, unsure whether they were supposed to follow.

“Well, I’m not just gonna rock back up to the TVA in swimming trunks, am I?” Mobius called back with a grin, walking backward to face them as he gestured down at himself. “And, uh… whilst you’re technically in uniform, you should probably clean up all the sweat, and dirt, and… and is that blood?”

“It’s been a rough few days…” Loki grumbled. “It’s been a rough damn existence.”

“Isn’t that the truth…” Sylvie added.

“Oh, and you-,” Mobius said, clicking his fingers as he pointed to Sylvie. “Not saying that I don’t admire the armor set, but uh… you might want to think about wearing something else if we’re going to blend in.”

Loki turned to Sylvie with a knowing grin, enjoying the apprehensive look on her face just a little bit more than he should. “Guess it’s time to see if we can conjure you’re a new outfit.”

Next Chapter - - - >

#sylki #sylki fanfiction #sylki fanfic #pro sylki #loki//sylvie #lovedagger #enchantricks

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barnes-dameron · 4 years ago

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I Think of You

Chapter One: The Beginning

Soccer player!Cassian Andor x physical therapist!reader

Summary: You came to this country to learn the language and find work to pay off for school, nothing else. Getting a job as a physical therapist for the National soccer team was a plus and getting to see the star player, Cassian Andor, was a major plus as well. But what happens when your visa expires and immigration is on your tail? Your only hope resides in Cassian, who is more than willing to marry you until you can get your green card. What can go wrong?

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: This is going to be a series but I don’t know how long will it be. I didn’t explicitly say what country this is taking place in because I want everyone who reads this to feel included. So for example, if you’re from the U.S., you can pretend it takes place in Mexico since Diego Luna is from there. Or if you’re from Mexico, you can pretend it takes place in the U.S. or another country. I want all readers to feel included instead of being excluded. Big shout out to @tintinwrites for helping me think of a name for the series. I hope you all enjoy!

***

You’ve never gotten used to the weather since you moved to this new place a few years ago, and frankly you were happy about it. It was a different feel altogether, one that shouldn’t be taken for granted. In the past, mornings like these would’ve repulsed you but now you couldn’t wait. You’re life was seemingly perfect, and you wanted to keep it that way. Who could blame you? You’ve worked hard to get the job you have now and moved to an unfamiliar place and learn a whole new language. Others would’ve called you crazy or a dreamer, but really you were an achiever; something you always prided yourself on.

You couldn’t wait to get into work, even if you were at your current job for going on three years now. But it was never dull working as a physical therapist for The Rebels, one of the popular soccer teams in the country. Their fan base was huge, so naturally it’s difficult to find a position working for them. But yet again, you didn’t take things lightly, and worked hard to get where you’re at. Mon Motha, one of the owners of the Rebels, knew about you only because you treated so many of the players and they regarded you with high esteem. Apparently, you heard through the grapevine that she jokes around saying you play a part in the backbone that keeps the team together. You try not to think about it from time to time, but it does place a smile on your face.

Upon entering the building where you set up shop, you passed by Coach Draven, another key member of the team that knew you well. He gave you his usual quick “good morning” and a nod of his head. Practice started early as always, and he never took things lightly. He constantly drilled the players so they were always prepared for everything, since there were teams that prefer to play dirty. Because of this, many players from the Rebels face injury and then have to go through physical therapy. That’s where you come in. But more often than not, it was usually one player...

As you entered the office, Cassian Andor was already sitting in a chair in the waiting area. Cassian was the team captain, and took his position seriously; enforcing his teammates to take the coach’s orders and carrying the burden of a loss on his shoulders. He played with passion and left everything on the field when the game was done. Due to this, Cassian always found himself with some sort of a minor injury. It was mostly his knees. After years of playing, it was the only thing that ever caused him real pain. He would come almost everyday, before and after practice, to do special exercises in order to prevent pain while playing. You never minded, in fact you enjoyed his company in a way. He’s much different when he was alone compared to when he’s around his team. You smiled at Cassian; punctual as always.

“Good morning, Captain Andor,” you greeted, the native language of this country flowing off your tongue after years of practice.

“Good morning,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

Cassian knew the drill by now. Once you set your things by your desk, he heads to the room in the back and lies down on the cushioned yet paper clad table. He brought his feet to rest on the surface so his knees were in the air. You entered the room, asking questions about how’s he doing and how his knees feel as you thoroughly wash your hands before touching him.

Cassian’s skin was always warm, probably due to the weather outside. It was soccer season, so of course it would be warm. But a part of you wondered if he skin was just like that. You performed the same exercises as always, stretching his legs and counting while doing so. After three years of doing this every morning, it never grew old either.

“So,” Cassian said after finishing another stretch. “Any plans tonight?”

He always asked that question, and you always gave the same response. After years of living here, you never ventured out to see what the country truly had to offer. Every once and awhile, your roommate, Jyn, would drag you out to a bar or club, but that’s the farthest you’ve gone.

“The usual,” you replied. “Just me, my couch, and a book I’ve been meaning to read.”

You heard Cassian let out a huff of laughter.

“You really need to get out more,” he sighed as you put some pressure on the side of his knee.

“I know,” you sighed in return.

It was a thought that always plagued your mind. Despite everything you achieved, you could no longer lie to yourself. At times you have felt a little lonely with the lack of a dating life and your roommate being out on most nights. To be completely honest with yourself, you thought of asking Cassian to accompany you to a new place. However, you didn’t want to mix work with your personal life, and threaten any friendship you may have with the captain of the team.

“All done,” you announced. Cassian got up from his position, sitting on the edge of the table. You watched fondly as he moved his arms about, and swinging his legs like a child. Cassian hopped down, and gave you a boyish grin, one you only saw within these four walls. “Good luck at practice today.”

“Thank you,” he said.

You watched as Cassian left the office, your heart falling a bit as he disappeared. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh. That’s a line you certainly didn’t want to cross.

***

Cassian always scolded himself when he showed up too early to your morning sessions. He hated how excited he was to see you, and he hated how you could break down all his inner walls, something he so carefully put together throughout the years, with a simple smile. But ultimately, he hated these foreign feelings that have been three years in the making.

Cassian has never felt this way about a person, ever. Heat blooms throughout his body causing his palms to go sweaty. His mouth becomes the Saharra desert as his mind transforms into a whirlwind of thoughts. He’s never felt so off guard before. On the soccer field, he was cold and calculating, focused on one thing...winning. With you, however, it was the opposite. He was a bumbling mess of a human; something he tries to hide whenever you’re around.

There has always been a part of him that wanted to ask you out. He couldn’t deny it, but he saw something more with you, but was never able to take those first steps. Every time he asks you for your plans that night, he chickens out last minute replying with plans of his own. It’s like he see the goal open, but could never kick the ball in.

Cassian shook away any thoughts of you. He couldn’t let them interfere with his performance. Cassian stepped on the field, and went to work.

He listened carefully to Coach Draven’s orders, taking mental notes to carry out the actions with perfection. He ran as fast as he could, and handled the ball with control. Maybe one day, after a win, the adrenaline would give him the fuel to ask you out. No, he scolded himself. Not now. Don’t think about her now.

The sound of Draven’s whistle pulled Cassian out of his thoughts. He looked up to see it was the signal for a water break, something he desperately needed at that moment. He didn’t notice it until he looked at the sun, but they’ve been practicing for hours now. He was slightly amazed on how transfixed he was that he lost track of time. Cassian sat on the bench, chugging down as much water as he could, before an anxious intern from the offices bumped his back. Cassian coughed from the unexpected action, and gave an icy glare at the baby-faced intern, who looked like a deer caught in head lights.

“S-sorry,” the intern stuttered out. Cassian watched as the boy played with the ends of his long sleeve shirt, looking around nervously, before returning his gaze back to him. “Do you know where Y/N L/N is?”

Cassian was taken aback upon the mention of your name. He lifted his hand, pointing to the building where your office was, closer to the practice field than any other building on the campus.

“Second floor, third door when you get off the elevator.”

The intern nodded his head, and began a brisk walk to your building. Curiosity bloomed in Cassian, but he quickly shook it off. He couldn’t think about you, not now.

***

Anxiety washed over you as you sat outside of the conference room. Thirty minutes ago, an intern burst into your office with an urgent message for you to come and meet with the team’s board of members, including the owners. Your stomach felt like it was put through the ringer, and your head pounded with the force of a thousand drums. You didn’t think you did anything wrong throughout your three year employment, but still every wrong thing you’ve done since childhood flooded your mind.

You turned your whole body towards the door when the click of the lock being opened reached your ears. Mon Motha stuck her head out and motioned for you to enter.

The floor felt uneven and difficult to navigate as you entered the room, a dozen pair of eyes peered into you as you sat at the only empty seat, the one across from Mon Motha.

“Miss L/N,” her calm voice filling the silence in the air. Tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. “Do you know why you are here?”

No words could come to your mouth. All you could do was shake your head.

“Miss L/N,” Bail Organa said, taking the lead. “There have been rumors going around, and if they’re true, it could cause possible damage to the Rebels.” You remained silent, staring at the co-owners intently with a wide gaze. Rumors? About you? “It has been heard and said that your visa has expired for some time now and you’ve been residing in this country illegally. Is this true?”

Your wish for the earth to open up and swallow you whole has never been stronger than this moment. Your heart pounded against your rib cage, the air leaving your lungs, and the sound of blood roaring in your ears. You looked down at the wood pattern of the table, not bearing to match their gazes.

“Yes,” you murmured. “They’re true.”

“Explain,” Mon Motha commanded coldly.

You took a deep breath, trying to tame your wild nerves.

“Well,” you began. “I never meant for my visa to get expired. It’s just that I’ve been so enthralled with my job and the Rebels, that it slipped my mind. Plus I only got one notice, a couple of days before the expiration date. Besides, it’s only been a few months-”

“A few months is long enough,” Bail sighed, rubbing his forehead. “If our rival, the Empire, gets a hold of this information they could destroy our credibility. Sponsors will pull out, attendance will dwindle, and the Rebels would cease to exist.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said. Tears threatened to spill from the anxiety that built up within you. You can’t cry now, not in front of all these people. “I’ve never meant for this to happen, and I didn’t think that it could hurt the team. I love this team!”

“We know, Y/N,” Mon Motha said. “But we need to take action before the media finds out.”

“Miss L/N,” a man said, gaining your attention. He looked clean and sleek, didn’t seem like the type to mess around or go out to have a drink with. “My name is Charles Anderson, the team’s attorney. I’ve analyzed your situation carefully and have came up with a few possible solutions.” You nodded your head, hanging on his every word. “Now, you could return to your country of origin and reside there until you have been cleared for a new visa.”

“Which is ridiculous,” Bail interceded. “We’ll need you for when the season starts and we won’t know when your new visa will be approved even if we pulled some strings-”

“Or,” Anderson said, rather loudly, cutting off Bail. “We can have you applied for a marriage license here so your spouse’s citizenship could protect you until either the season is over or you apply for citizenship yourself. Of course with this, you’ll have to apply within the next month or so.”

“But,” you interjected, trying to gather your thoughts and bearings. “I don’t have a boyfriend or anything. How can you expect me to meet someone and marry them within a month?”

“Actually,” Bail said, arching his eyebrow towards you with his hands clasped right in front of his face. “We were thinking that you’ll marry someone on the team.”

Your stomach twisted at that thought. For so long you didn’t want to cross the line between work and a personal relationship, but now it seemed you didn’t have a choice.

“What?” you asked, disbelief and shock gripping your mind and heart.

“Think about it,” Mon said. “We’ll get ahead of any allegations that the Empire might make. We’ll say you and a player on the team were having a private relationship and make it seem that you two have been together longer than a month. Plus, with the player’s popularity, nobody will even begin to question your status in the country, and even root for the marriage. You’ll be protected in the eyes of the public. Anderson will draw up a contract for the two of you to sign so that after a year or so, you guys can divorce without raising any eyebrows and you’ll be able to stay in the country.”

You heard every word, but after awhile, it sounded like you were underwater. Muffled noise mixed together into nonsense. You were still in shock. Married for a year to someone you didn’t know well? Plus you’ll have to make the marriage look believable. And then divorce? You never saw yourself getting married so soon, much less divorce. But this was your only viable option. What else could you do?

***

Cassian wiped off the remaining droplets of water off his chest as he stepped out of the shower room. A cold shower was something he needed after today’s rigorous training and how his thoughts of you slightly got away from him during it.

Cassian approached his designated locker and began to dress. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t sweaty and smelly before going to meet you for the after practice therapy session. Cassian watched as Bodhi took a seat at the bench in front of his locker. Cassian liked to think of Bodhi as his second in command when guiding the team on the field. Bodhi always followed orders even if he doubted himself at times. He’s a good teammate, as well as being one of Cassian’s best friends.

“So,” Bodhi began, running his towel through his wet hair. “Did you hear about Y/N?”

Cassian stopped his movements for a split second at the mention of your name. He kept his eyes trained on the locker wall, not wanting to look at Bodhi in effort to hide any indication of his feelings toward you. But Cassian had to admit, he was intrigued. Especially since there’s been an intern that was looking for you earlier that day.

“No,” Cassian said, leaving it at that for now.

“Well, I talked to that young intern... you know the one that disturbed our practice earlier? Anyways, apparently the team’s board had a sit down with Y/N.”

Cassian looked back at Bodhi upon hearing that. He tried to keep his voice steady, even if panic threatened to break through.

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently,” Bodhi said in a low voice just above a whisper, leaning on his forearms that rested on his knees so no one else could hear. “Y/N’s visa is expired, and the board is saying she has to marry someone quick so she can stay for the season.”

Cassian’s heart fell through his chest and landed on the floor, nearly breaking. Your visa expired? You were always so responsible, he couldn’t believe that a perfect person like you could be in a situation like this. He needed to see you.

Cassian rushed to put on the rest of his clothes, shoving his feet in his shoes before leaving the locker room, not saying another word to Bodhi. The only thing that he had on his mind was you.

***

Your head still ached, even after leaving that dreaded conference room. You wanted to go home, talk about this situation with Jyn, and wallow in your sadness until you fall asleep. But deep down, you didn’t want to go home, not yet at least. You still had your therapy session with Cassian. To be completely honest, you wanted to see him; as if he could solve everything with one simple smile. That’s what you needed, his smile.

As if he read your thoughts, Cassian walked into your office, a look of urgency traced in his eyes but quickly replaced with relief upon setting his gaze on you. You got up from your desk and approached the door to the exam room.

“Hey Cass,” you sighed, trying to hide anything that might give away your awful situation.

“Hi,” he replied nervously, which you decided not to look into.

You washed your hands as Cassian laid down on the exam table. You had him perform the usual exercises for his knees, the silence in the room deafening. It was a little more difficult to get him to cooperate today for some reason. You felt the tension build up in his knees, something that only ever happened to him when there was something bothering him. After three years of physical therapy, you could tell if there is something off. His words might say otherwise, but his body told the truth. You let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong, Cassian?” you asked, making eye contact with him.

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head before resting it on the table surface.

“Come on, Cass,” you urged, squeezing his knee gently. “I know there’s something on your mind.”

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath.

He did his final stretch before moving to get off the table. You turned around and approached the sink, washing your hands and preparing yourself to listen to what he has to say. Maybe he’s stressing about “the secret weapon” that the Empire supposedly has. Taking a paper towel, you turn back around to face him, wiping your hands dry before looking up to him.

Or down...

“Y/N L/N,” Cassian started, kneeling down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

To be continued...

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor #x reader #rogue one #star wars #diego luna #diego luna x reader #fanfic #series #sw #fluff #angst

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meadowmood · 4 years ago

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The World of Thera

This is the first upload I will be doing for all of the work I did for my senior show centering around my own stories and characters. If you would like to view the entire exhibition now, click this link! It includes a number of short stories, illustrations, and character bios for your viewing pleasure!

(now back to the story)

In the very beginning...

Thera lay a lone planet in a dead part of space with no neighboring moons or stars and only faint glimpses from other galaxies could be seen in the far distance. The only hint of life on Thera’s surface was a swirling sea of energy, a force that would later be labeled as magic. Magic existed on Thera as a form of unpredictable energy that resided within all matter on Thera and the celestial bodies that would eventually surround it. It was an unrelenting force that was always looking for a purpose, and after millennia of searching endlessly for a vessel, an unknown spark suddenly created one; life. This spark created the first two beings to ever exist on Thera, two sister spirits who would later be named Lun and Liy. All magic that had been swirling restlessly on Thera’s surface divided itself into these two vessels. It was Lun and Liy, the first nature spirits, that would shape what Thera would become. Lun first created earth for her and her sister to stand on, and then water to fill the world with expansive oceans. Liy created air, forming an atmosphere around Thera, and then fire to bring heat and light to the cold and dark world. These first sparks allowed for life to begin forming on Thera, and for many thousands of years Lun and Liy watched life grow around them. Eventually their lifespans became so long that they ascended into godhood. Lun and Liy both left Thera and took their places in the sky, Lun becoming the moon and Liy the Sun. They now exist in a state outside of consciousness, orbiting around the planet they helped populate with life. Thera is a planet existing within a geocentric solar system. The closest celestial bodies are a large moon and a star orbiting the planet at the same speed Thera rotates. This resulted in extreme poles dominated by the light of the moon and sun, and an equator with a mix of both lights known as Middle Thera.

General Notes

Magic

Magic: Magic on Thera comes from the energy emanating from the moon and the sun (Lun and Liy). The points of Thera that are closest to these lights have the most potent magic and the creatures with the strongest connection to it. Moon-aligned magic: Magic that comes from Lun is mostly associated with healing and change, like illusions, shapeshifting, aura-sensing, mending wounds etc. Sun-aligned magic: Magic that comes from Liy is associated with vitality and power, like growth spells, animating matter (golems, telekinesis), concussive blasts etc.

Day and Night

Day and night looks different for each part of Thera, and comes when Lun and Liy’s light dims after a 12 hour day, lulling the world into sleep as they too rest for the night.

Moon Pole: Night at the moon pole is pitch back, day appears like an enhanced full moon’s night on Earth, still quite dark compared to a regular earth day, but brighter than the typical night.

Sun Pole: Night at the Sun pole appears more like dusk, never quite getting as dark as night on Earth. Day at the Sun pole is incredibly bright and full of sunlight.

Middle Thera: Night on Middle Thera looks more like late Evening on Earth, and day more appearing like early morning, never getting quite as bright at the Sun pole, or dark as the Moon pole.

Culture

Faith: Religion is largely absent on Thera, people instead following different schools of philosophy influenced by their culture and personal experience. What unifies almost all people on Thera is a strong faith in magic and the belief that they are part of nature, not separate from it. It is widely accepted that everyone’s greater purpose is to maintain harmony on Thera, uplifting those around as a way to help yourself in turn. Whether it be through nature, relationships, or your wider community.

Society: People for the most part live in tight knit communities that share resources. There is very little concept of borders, so groups of people are defined by culture rather than sectioned pieces of land. Small communities will often be led by an elected leader or council of respected peers. Larger cities are often led by a matriarch or queen who serves a term anywhere from 10 to 50 years depending on what age they were elected. Leaders being chosen by the previous ruler with permission of the people. Women are most often chosen for this position as they are seen as being made in the image of Lun and Liy, and therefore more connected to their magic.

The Moon Pole

This part of Thera is the least populated by people and is more known as the home of a plethora of strange creatures. Lun is often referred to as the “Mother of Monsters” as the moon’s light is responsible for creating many beings considered strange and dangerous by the citizens of the Sun pole and Middle Thera.

Environment: The moon pole stays between 50 - 70 degrees in most areas, extreme cold only existing in a few parts. It consists of wetlands, tundras, and beaches. People that live on this pole rely heavily on the sea for sustenance as vegetation and animal life are a little sparse on the surface.

Moonlit Desert: The moonlit desert is a wide expanse of land with almost no vegetation and sparse signs of life. It’s sand is finer than stardust and its soft sparkling dunes lull travelers into a false sense of security. This land is dangerous to those unfamiliar with this strange environment, so be careful to prepare before crossing, and employ a guide if you would like to see the other side.

Lunar Sea: The sea that surrounds the lands that populate the Moon pole, the depths of which house many large and dangerous creatures. It’s more shallow waters are home to a great many edible fish for the experienced fisherman willing to catch them.

Middle Thera

This part is by far the most populated area of Thera, a melting pot of people from all over. It is the most diverse mix of people, creatures, and magic. It also has the widest temperature range, going from very cold to temperate depending on the area.

Environment: It is mostly covered by mountains, forests, grasslands, and prairies. Agriculture is the most established here and creates the widest variety of products for export to the poles.

The Sun Pole

This part of Thera is not quite as populated as Middle Thera, but is home to a good variety of citizens that have made the sun pole their home.

Environment: The sun pole is very warm having extreme dry and wet environments. It mostly consists of humid rainforests, swamps, and savannas.

#I'm finally gonna introduce my actual ocs lmao #you ever have characters who you have had for years and are your favorite to think about #but just.....never drew them for some reason #well that's these guys #ALSO YAY MY SENIOR EXHIBITION IS DONE #I"M FREEEE #kind of #still gotta finish other class finals #BUT AFTER THAT IM FREEEE #and I can draw princess luna again with no guilt for assignments #hell yeah lads

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meteor752 · 4 years ago

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Lotr dragons

So a while back I made a post about The Dragon Curse, aka a headcanon I have about what happens if you kill a dragon. And if my followers know me, they know that I overthink a lot of small details, elaborate on them, and then write them down. And anyone who knows me personally knows that I really like dragons, so I’m surprised it took me this long to make a post about it.

In the Lotr wiki, there are basically only two types of dragons, those who breathe fire and those who don’t, and I’m going to completely ignore all of that. This is my universe, I do what I want!

Also, for more backstory about dragons, read the first part here

So here we go!

Fire dragon

When people of Middle earth speak of dragons, it is mostly fire dragons they refer to. Fire dragons are the fiercest, strongest, and the most intimidating dragon, and when it comes to dragon attacks, it is mostly the work of a fire dragon. A fire dragon is large, with often dark red scales and fiery orange eyes, and sharp teeth and claws. Despite the name Dragon, a Fire Dragon is actually a wyvern, with incredibly strong and fast wings, that can reach speeds up to 600 mph. The most distinct part about the fire dragon is of course it’s fire, that can reach up to almost ten million degrees Celsius if so desired, though most of the time the dragon chooses not to use its fire’s true heat as it can be destructive.

Water dragon

Water dragons are more common than people think, as they are mostly left alone in the deep and can therefore procreate at a normal speed. Water dragons mostly desire to be left alone, and is rarely seen up at the surface among the people of middle earth. Just like a Fire Dragon is technically a Wyvern, a water dragon is technically an Amphithere. The Water dragon can not breathe fire as most dragons are capable of, but despite common belief they can’t "breathe" water either. Their way of defending themselves relies on the venom in their teeth and spikes, which can take out even the toughest person in a heartbeat. Luckily, they are quite docile and prefer to collect items like pearls or lost weaponry than gold. Water Dragon’s come in many different colors, including Cyan, Lilac, turquoise, rose, periwinkle, lapis, and indigo. A Water Dragon is rarely just one single color, and their scales often glimmer in a combination of the colors.

Ice Dragon

Ice dragons have always been the rarest of dragons, as it has only ever been one. Moln was one of the original dragons that were created out of the greedy village, and is therefore really, really, old. Moln mostly keeps to himself in the whole of his chunk of ice, mostly collecting ice crystals and gems. He’s rather large, with glimmering white and ice blue scales, and the coldest eyes in all of middle earth. Just like the water dragon, Moln is incapable of breathing fire, and can instead freeze whatever he so desires to freeze. Moln is actually quite passive, and many people who have encountered him have come out alive, unless they would try to steal his treasure.

Forest Dragon

Forest dragons are some of the smaller dragons, only being about five feet tall and 25 feet long. Forest dragons are, just like fire dragons, a threat to the people of middle earth, but in a much lesser kind. They are a bit like raccoons to a Fire Dragons wolf. Just like their name might suggest, a Forest dragon mostly stay in a chosen forest, protecting their territory fiercely from other Forest Dragon’s. They mostly stay in the trees, jumping between branches and eating the birds and squirrels that they find, since because of their small size and dull teeth and claws they can’t exactly take on any big animals. Despite being able to breathe fire, a Forest Dragon often chooses not to as it can set their precious forest ablaze, leaving only ash behind. Except for The Ice Dragon, Forest dragons have the fewest cases of hatchlings, as they rarely interact with their own species unless it is to battle ‘em to the death for territory. A new Forest Dragon is only really created through dragon slayers, which makes them quite rare. A Forest Dragon only really comes in one color, dark green, as it makes it easier for them to blend into the woods. The Forest Dragon’s teeth and claws are quite dull and non-threatening, and their tail completely spikeless. Their true strength is their quick speed, reaching up to more than a thousand mph which makes it the fastest dragon, and their sharp eyes. Unlike other dragons who value treasure like gold and jewels, a forest dragon finds and collects pretty rocks and plants that they like, and hide them in hollow trees for safekeeping.

Spike Dragon

The spike dragon is probably the dragon there are the most of, just simply because they are hard to find and that they live in packs, so Hatchlings are common. The Spike dragons are the smallest dragons, with only being about a half foot long and just a few inches tall. Just like the Fire Dragon, a Spike dragon is a wyvern, but a quite small one in comparison. The name Spike Dragon comes from the fact that this dragon has, and be prepared cuz this is a shocker, spikes! The whole thing is covered in ‘em, making it not the most petable thing out there. Despite being about the size of a person’s hand, the Spike dragon is quite vicious and full of rage, and just like the forest dragon very territorial. They stay in small packs, helping each other to hunt and take care of the tiny hatchlings. The Spike dragon can mostly be found in very dry areas like a desert, as their sand-colored scales can easily blend into the background which makes it easier to sneak up on prey. Despite their size, Spike Dragons are hunters, and their main diet consists of stuff like fenneks and possums, but if they’re lucky they can manage to take down a man or an elf. The Spike dragons treasure mostly consists of small golden coins found on one of the men/elves/dwarves they kill, and they protect it fiercely from the other members of their species. A Spike Dragon can breathe fire, but it’s a fairly small flame that doesn’t do much damage, so it usually uses its sharp spikes or teeth to attack.

Mountain Dragon

Aside from the dragons we do not speak of, mountain dragons are the largest dragons there is. A fully grown one can reach around about three mountains and manage to bite its own tail if it would desire to do so. This is why mountain dragons aren’t so common, as most people don’t want to kill them, so there are not many mountain dragon slayers. The mountain dragons have dark grey scales, and silvery grey eyes, that make it easy for them to blend in against the mountain rocks. The Mountain dragons mostly prefer solitude, and usually dig a hole in their mountain that they stay curled up in with their stolen treasure, napping, only coming out when needed to. Which is good, because these bad boys are very dangerous, with their enormous size and brute strength. Just like most dragons, it breathes fire, but it usually chooses not to when in battle, as it’s a sign of weakness for them, to not being able to rely on its strength alone.

Sky dragon

Sky dragons are basically the elves of the dragon types, beautiful and peaceful, but boy do they have a bloody history. The Sky dragons are fair, with pearl-like scales that shines in the sun, see-through strong wings and eyes blue as the sky, hence the name sky dragon. The Sky dragons don’t have a treasure like the other dragons, but instead only has one chosen pearl they protect fiercely. The bigger and more beautiful the pearl, the better the mate. The pearls however are not just found on the bottom of a lake or something. No, the Sky Dragons deep into the ocean, find a Water dragon, slay it, and then takes the most beautiful pearl it can find in its treasure. Most Sky dragons live on top of mountains, aka as close as the sky you can get, but not in stuff like caves like mountain dragons. No, they live out in the open, which risks them being killed in their sleep, but a Sky dragon’s scale is hard as a diamond so it’s pretty safe. A Sky dragon egg is very valuable though, because of the beauty and hardness of the shell, so they have to be careful protecting those. Sky dragons breathe fire, like many other dragons, though their fire is blue and quite elegant.

Swamp Dragons

Swamp dragons are said to be pretty closely related to Forest dragons, as they both are about the same size and almost have the same color. The Swamp dragon does not move much, unless someone would be entering their territory, where it would just go and snack on ‘em, so it’s very common for it to be covered in moss. Just like the name suggests, A swamp dragon lives in a swamp, and mostly keeps to themselves. Just walk around their swamp, and you’ll be fine. It doesn’t really care about animals either, like a squirrel can use its body to jump up in a tree, and it wouldn’t even care. Most Swamp dragons are unable to fly, as they barely use their wings and therefore don’t develop them so much. These boys are pretty lazy, and would rather just sunbath than go hunt or fly. This is also the reason most Swamp dragons don’t even have a treasure, as they don’t bother stealing it. Some do, some collect it from some random person that just stumbled into their swamp, and it keeps it in a hollow tree like the Forest Dragon, but some just don’t bother. Despite the laziness, a Swamp dragon can be pretty darn dangerous, as while it’s not the biggest, it’s very heavy and has a pretty bulky tail that can kill you with a single hit. Its Fire is not the strongest, since it mostly lays in a swamp all day, but it can kill with it if so desired.

Venom Dragon

These are the real hazards. Venom Dragons are not the largest dragons, they are not the fastest dragons, they are not the strongest dragons, but they are the second most dangerous after the dragon we do not speak of. Almost everything about this type of dragon is poisonous, from its spikes to its blood to the acid it spits. It even looks dangerous, with its large body, it’s dark purple scales and it’s glowing purple eyes. In reality, it’s just a huge puppy. Just the sweetest boy. Venom dragons are pretty much the opposite of spike dragons, as they are small and full of rage, while the Venom dragon is huge and full of love. Unfortunately, everyone is afraid of it and they are quite rare, so it doesn’t have anyone to cuddle with :(. But if you would cuddle with this thing you’d probably die, as again, everything about it is poisonous. It’s treasure mostly consists of the bones is people and animals it has accidentally killed, since it wants friends.

The Dragon we do not speak of

The name is pretty self-explanatory, we don’t talk about this one. Its species is dead, thankfully, but just the thought of it returning is pretty traumatizing. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m of course speaking of Ancalagon’s species, aka the most terrifying thing anyone has ever encountered. In the myth of the greedy village and the sorceress, it is said that the master of the village was turned into The Dragon that we do not speak of. Not much is known about this species, as most people who encountered it fucking died, and the ones who slew one of these bad boys killed themselves pretty quickly to not have any more of the fucking apocalypse happen.

•

Yeah, this is as far from canon lotr lore as you can come. But, I’m making my own universe here, and no one can stop me. Suck it Tolkien.

Also, thank you @a-e-g-g for helping me with the venom dragon, who both of us now wish to hug even though we would die.

Also, thanks again to @lunaishtari for creating the idea of the dragon curse, that then turned into fricking this. I have gone too far

AU Masterpost

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emeraldragonfly · 4 years ago

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Connecting to the Desert

The classical Four Elements are Air, Water, Earth, and Fire. That is what you see, in Wicca and other pagan traditions. But Earth is such a complex element. You will notice it is represented by both Brown and Green colored candles. And for good reason. Earth can be so many different things.

The Earth I am used to is Green. It is soft and verdant and full of vegetation and life. It is a forest, a gentle, kind carpet of moss. It is lush and fertile and vibrant and alive.

But Earth is also not just rich soil and greenery. It is also Brown and hard and angled and sharp. Mineral and rock and sand. Rough, dry. Plants that are thick-skinned and prickly and carefully grabbing every spare precious piece of moisture. Earth is dirt and stone and cliff and mountain and jagged passages. In the desert where I live, Earth tells such a different story, has such a different face.

Honestly it's almost as if they are two different elements.

This desert Earth still is life-giving. It protects so many creatures from the harshness of heat, as creatures burrow underground. It still nurtures plants. It is still there for us. It is just harder to see how it is nurturing, in such a harsh environment.

The Elements in Desert are so different than the Element balance where I was, in California.

Here, in Desert, the life-giving Earth element is this harsh, rocky, rough type. Here, in Desert, the life-giving Water element is less prominant, more rare and precious. Here, in Desert, the Fire element is so strong. The heat of the sun is often overwhelming. The sun, of course, is also life-giving and essential, but it's quite overwhelming here. And here, in Desert, the life-giving element of Air can be quite intense, when hot winds with razor-sharp sand whip across the landscape. But that air can also bring fragments of precious moisture, clouds, or help to cool.

It's been a long time since I've studied weather and ecosystems in school. So as a refresher, a desert tends to get super hot due to the fact it is so dry. Water plays a huge role in regulating temperatures. But if there are few bodies of water or moisture in the air (no evaporative cooling), all that heat goes directly into heating the Earth. Also, clouds help reflect some sunlight, but fewer clouds mean the sun is beating down. Also, less vegetation also means less material to absorb sunlight and heat (photosynthesis also helps cool). Cold deserts (or deserts that flip between hot and cold) are also due to dryness/a lack of water and very little vegetation. Moisture and bodies of water can retain warmth, but they don't in a desert. Thus, the whole place cools off very rapidly. Clouds are literally an insulating layer. Sand is also terrible at retaining warmth.

Finally, I should mention the elevation and location with respect to the equator plays a role as well.

So, as a recap: deserts tend to be hot or cold because of their dryness, their decreased vegetation, and their elevation & location on the planet.

Deserts may seem incredibly barren, but much desert fauna spends the hottest parts of the day (or all day) burrowed underground or hiding under rocks, and comes out during the cool evenings or night. Arctic deserts are different, of course, but we're mostly not discussing those.

Desert flora also may seem like it's barely ekeing out a living. It's scraggly and often low to the ground, with thick or fluffy or shiny or waxy skin, and often has many thorns. But there's reason for this. They are all adaptations to an arid (dry) environment. Wide leaves have much surface area and can easily lose moisture. Thick, waxy or fluffy skin or teeny leaves or a plant that's just all stems and no leaves helps prevent moisture loss. Thorns help protect the plants from animals seeking to steal their precious water. Thorns also surprisingly can provide an insulating layer (like fur or feathers) to regulate temperature. Spines can also help collect water and have it slide down to the plant's roots. So, while desert flora often look scraggly or thorny, they are often quite successful at colonizing very dry places.

I should also note that desert fauna tend to not be massive, charismatic species. Insects, other arthropods, and reptiles are major rulers of the desert. Mammals in the desert tend to be small, such as rodents, weasels and rabbits. You will get a few larger grazing herbivores on occasion (bighorn sheep, camels, donkeys, etc), but they are not too common (unless we're talking the Sahara); and you'll get a few predators (coyotes, foxes, mountain lions, bobcats).

So, yeah. I'm not going to lie; living in a desert can be difficult. It's definitely harsher to life then fertile, wet, lush places. Water is a rare and precious commodity, and life has to be careful to find and use every drop. Weather is more extreme, with the sun often beating down mercilessly, or the chill of the night sometimes difficult to deal with. Vegetation is less common, and it's a much thornier affair. The sands are ever-shifting.

When people want to describe a barren wasteland, a place that is harsh and inhospitable, they often use the word "desert." There's no denying that. It's little surprise I have difficulty drawing inspiration and support from nature out here. It's not surprising that I look outside and often feel like I am in a place that is not very friendly to me.

But . . . I'd be a liar if I said there was no beauty to be found at all. While it is life that must bend its back to the raw power of the sun, and shuffle through sifting sands and past hard rock and packed, red soil, a life that moves to a slower beat, it is still there. It still creates something for itself. Its burrows of stone and sand may be humble, but they are still protecting. And its water may be scarce, but it is still life-giving.

The adaptations are something to marvel over. I don't know if I can say they are something to draw inspiration from directly. I don't know if I should be developing a thick skin or to try and be more thorny; I don't know if I should hide from day and learn to only come out at night. I don't know if I should build a burrow. But there's still something very impressive about living in a harsh place, making every drop of water count. Wearing clothing that will reflect the sun's merciless rays. Learning to act when the time is right. Finding and making use of what is available. Cultures that are in the desert have such a unique flavor to them, of the land. Cultures that truly adapt, I mean-- not what modern Americans do. To see a painting made of colored sand, for instance, is such a captivating thing. Using what is around us to do the things that are an important part of being human.

So, things to learn from the desert:

1.) Make every drop of water count; lovingly locate and use it

2.) Learn to protect yourself from harshness or excess, with dug burrows or adaptions on your person; respect the sun and do not try to win in a fight against it (instead, work with it)

3.) Act in harmony with nature and the world, such as waiting for the right time to do something

4.) The power of teamwork, as ants well know, is especially essential here

5.) Use what is available here, as resources may be scarce but they are still present; things may be used in ways you do not expect

6.) On its surface, the desert may seem barren and lifeless, but under the surface it thrives more than you realize

#myposts #living in the desert

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edehaffey · 4 years ago

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Avenue south residence

A typical evergreen pine forest stands on a photo. An onlooker may assume that this could be in Colorado, Europe, Alaska, or at least if it was taken in the great Grand Canyon State then the foliage would be restricted to some very very far distant isolated mountain top. This is not the case, as there are conifer expanses in AZ that stretch for hundreds of miles, including some very fantasy like biotic communities.

The photograph recognition scenario photo could involve a location in Arizona. yet it may not. Most people, however, would not ever associate this type of plant life as such. This local expansive portion of the Earth's surface is well endowed with many vivid displays which mirror much of the climactic, geological, biological, and other ranges that exist all other places around our graceful planet's reaches.

If you don't have the cash to go to the Black forest in the southwest of Germany or happened to be planning a trip to the Grand Canyon or Sedona, then stop by one of Arizona's magical hinterlands, the lush foliage saturating the White and Blue Range Mountains, along with the mighty alpine summit of Escudilla.Tall straight pine trees, open vibrant fields looking as if they were massive front lawns, a predominant older culture, Avenue south residence a plethora of flowing and resting waters, and the sounds of wildlife are just a few things that these two far distant lovely countrysides share.

The two beautiful landscapes make for an interesting contrast of latitude versus elevation, and the similarities wrought by the relative cancellation of these factors. What about the spectacular Triberg waterfall one may ask? One word comes to mind for me, Pacheta. Located deep within the heavily forested landscape lies this cascading gem, smaller than its distant cousin in Baden Württemberg, yet huge in its own right and just as inspiring.

Nowhere else on Earth is quite like the city near the vertically plummeting waters just described, however Greer, Arizona also shares that distinction. Similar to Triberg, this small town lies between thick stands of both conifer and broadleaf vegetation growing on the steep sides of the mountains which they are nestled in. The falls in the geographical region are not in this direct vicinity, but three sparkling lakes lie adjacent to this little hamlet.

The Titisee, yes it really is spelled like that was names after General Titus of ancient Rome who passed through the region around 41 A.D, This deep blue body of water is a marvel of the natural world. To behold this would probably feel like living within an old fantasy story. The Grand Canyon State also offers an exceptional blend of green and blue in the form of many lakes. One of these locations holds records for both the state's highest recorded rainfall and coldest known temperature. This gorgeous gem goes by the name of Hawley Lake. The two fantastic bodies of water are roughly the same size, albeit different shapes.

Whether it be the Danube or the Little Colorado River, the respective wrinkled examples of the Earth's crust have produced impressive watersheds. Springerville, as Freiberg offers itself as a portal to the higher elevation, densely packed, woodlands beyond. Both peak top areas host a very lucrative ski resort as well. Baldy peak stands proudly atop its less prominent peers.

Arizona residents and visitors may frequent this pristine giant as fellows form the Schwarzwald do so the mighty Feldberg. they have the Schluchsee, we have Sunrise lake, they have the Mummelsee and the Feldsee, we have Christmas tree and Lee Valley lakes, the list could go on and on.

We Arizonans have our own "Black" Forest right here in our "White" Mountains sector of the land. This is truly an enchanting kingdom .Everything in the real world is however not black and white so let's look at a few more amazing potential travel destinations.

Have you ever wanted to gaze across the savagely wonderful plains of the Serengeti without all of the dangers involved in being in the presence presence of too many hungry large animals ? Well somewhere else right here in my sector of the Earth, only a few hundred miles form our "Black Forest" lies The Plains of Sonoita and the San Raphael Valley, collectively making up the saguaro State's own sprawling savannas.

Although pronghorn, mountain lions, wild cattle and horses, prairie dogs, coyotes and a rare a jaguar roam the areas they do not account for even nearly the same population density as those grasslands of Africa, hence the greater chance of survival. The bird variety however often surpasses that of the rift valley continent's plains. Unfortunately the occasional poacher will turn here up as well.

Las Cienegas is reminiscent of many a portion of the Serengeti as is the nearly African duplicated valley of the south, named after Saint Raphael. In the San Raphael the grasses grow many feet tall, enough to hide a person sitting down or perhaps mask a predator's presence, although, unlike the beautiful African plains, wildlife incidents are almost unheard of.

The entire vicinity is marked by a mostly uniform flat yellow ground covering flanked by rolling hills dotted with trees. These often lone arbor sentinels changes to brilliant green, rich in color in the wake of summer rain. A trek to Kenya or Uganda would definitely be unbelievable but perhaps for someone on a tighter budget this piece of Arizona may be just right!

Arizona is well know for dryness spanning opposing horizons, however, typically the larger cities are associated with or located very close to what is known as the "Upper Sonoran" Zone, which is more humid and a little cooler often that the lower elevation, more arid lands to the south and west. The stretch of foliage sparsity and searing temperatures, includes the extent of the Mojave Desert within the boundaries of Arizona south to the Cactus and Laposa Plains, plunging farther south into the Sonora desert. The Sonoran desert portion of AZ is comprised of a gentle arc shaped stretch consisting of the Kofa, Castle Dome, and smaller associated satellite mountains in the North and West and the Yuma and Lechugulla deserts well as the Mohawk Valley to the South and East.

These scorching nearly moisture devoid regions make up the areas which would strike most people as visually being much closer to a typical desert environment that Hollywood had often portrayed as the American Southwest.

Many areas located within the arid zone are sandy, much like the enigmatic Northeast, Navajo land. There are native stands of palm trees in the Kofa Range, (which stands for King OF Arizona (Mines)). These palms cling to the rocky mountain recess within steep walled canyons absent of almost all vegetation. These conditions are much like those located in the largest hottest desert on the Earth.

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redfoxwritesstuff · 5 years ago

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Of Dust and Ashes (Chapter 13)

Happy Friday! Less than a month until I see Betrayal for my birthday. Check out my craft blog @redfoxcrafts for things for sale at big discount while I raise funds for the trip. Or perhaps buy me a Ko-fi?

Thanks to @winterisakiller for keeping me from taking things too dark and to @tnystrk-exe for encouraging me to go darker.

The other chapters can be found on my Masterlist.

Clint x ofc (Deanna).

Chapter warnings: None

Series rated: M, reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 13: Rainy days

Deanna looked over to the driver’s seat. Clint’s strong arm’s were on display as he confidently drove the RV. Wind whipped against the vehicle, slowing their progress. Rain pelted the windshield. They’d only been driving for half an hour when the storm began to really pick up. Both knew unless there was a break in the weather, they’d not make it the almost hundred miles to his home.

“There’s a town a little ahead. We’ll stop and see what supplies we can get.” Clint’s voice broke the silence. “I’d like to see if we can find a brace or something for your foot so it heals better.”

“Okay.” Deanna muttered, looking from his strong arms down to her hands where her fingers fidgeted.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” One word answers were doing nothing to convince Clint. He pulled the RV into a slow stop in the middle of the old highway. They avoided the interstates with the countless abandoned cars, trucks and accidents. It was something that Deanna hadn’t thought of doing.

“What’s up?” Clint put the RV in park and turned to look at her. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing- I’m just being dumb.”

“It’s not nothing if it bothers you. We’re a team.” He motioned between them. “You and me- we’re a team. And as long as we’re a team, we gotta talk to each other. I’m not taking control of this boat, we’re sharing it. Now, what’s bothering you?”

She picked at her fingers until he reached out and the strong hands she had been admiring closed over hers, stilling them. “Are you sure it’s going to be safe?”

“What?” Clint was surprised by the worry she admitted.

“I know it’s dumb. But after what happened yesterday… What if more people like that are in the town? I can’t run, I can’t even walk.”

“I’ll protect you.” Clint answered simply. “I wouldn’t suggest going to the town with you hurt if I didn’t think it would be safe.”

“How do you know that? Really, how can we know anywhere is safe?”

“We can’t. But this town- I went through the day before yesterday. It was pretty much deserted. Some older people who aren’t in the condition to migrate and just want to keep chugging along. They’ll all be inside with this storm though.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“Trust me, babe?”

They both seemed surprised by the term of endearment, but still Deanna answered, “I trust you.”

And she did trust him. Still, when they rolled into the town, she was on edge. As impossible as it was, she tried to keep her eyes everywhere. Around them torrential rains fell, battering the RV and making rivers along the ground.

“Is this weather normal?”

Clint thought before answering. “Not this time of year. Banner mentioned that we’re going to have some weird weather until the atmosphere clears the ash. It's not his area of expertise though.”

“Will we be okay?”

“I’ll make sure of it.” Clint smiled at her, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze as he pulled up to a pharmacy. “I’ll be right back.”

~~~~~<3

Clint tried to look up and down the street as he stepped out of the RV but the rain, thick and dark made it hard to see anything. The water was oily, like much of the rain in the last month had been. He could only pray that it would let up soon and he wouldn’t feel like he needed a shower every time it touched him.

The RV was left running, on the off chance that she needed to make a get away. They both hoped she wouldn’t- driving would be painful with her ankle. He didn’t think it would come to that but if it did, he'd rather her leave him behind. She had no reason to stay for him.

Sprinting the short distance to the doors of the pharmacy, Clint didn’t slow down as they came closer and close. He used the momentum of the run to break through the glass doors. Like many things in this small town, the doors were old and outdated, still easy to shatter plane glass. Luckily he made it through without suffering anything worse than a few scratches.

Once inside, he wasted no time looking through the untouched store with a wheeled shopping cart. As he ‘shopped’ he tossed jugs of water into the cart and swept can after can of vegetables, fruit and pasta meals up. You can’t have too much ravioli, in his opinion.

The loaves of bread had molded on the shelves. A stuffy smell hung in the air, no doubt from the mold and rotting fruits. While there was more waters in the coolers, Clint had no interest in opening them and setting free the smell of the rotting foods and drinks inside. That water would have to wait for someone more desperate.

Bags of trail mix went into the cart. These items that happened to populate small local pharmacies weren’t really why he went in however. They could get water damn near anywhere. He knew how to filter it, purify it. Plus he had a well. Still, it was a good habit. Without a thought he threw in an ankle boot that looked as if it would fit.

As if it was nothing, Clint vaulted over the counter. It was an old fashioned pharmacy with the back room closed and locked. It made sense that they hadn’t invested in shatter resistant glass for their doors when all the good stuff would be kept behind another set of doors.

As he expected, the door was locked. Looking around the dim space he tried to find something to pick the lock with. When nothing of significance jumped out at him, he settled for kicking the door in. Or at least trying to do so.

One hard kick rattled the door. He backed up and took a running jump, hoping that the force would do the trick. It didn’t. When he crashed to the floor without the satisfaction of taking the door down with him, he was thankful Dee was waiting in the RV. She didn’t need to see that. No one needed to see that. The less witnesses, the better.

Using the counter to pull himself up with a groan, he was about ready to admit defeat. Extra antibiotics and painkillers weren’t worth breaking his body for. His palm was on a paper and as he pulled himself up, the paper slipped off the counter sending him crashing onto the hard surface.

That was it, Clint decided. Today simply wasn’t the day he would be grabbing extra medical supplies. It was a nice thought, a few vials of epinephrine, some syringes, antibiotics, painkillers, antivirals and even iodine to purify the water when bottles ran out if they were away from the well would have all been great. It was a nice little shopping list that would have to wait for another day. Hopefully Dee didn’t have any allergies he’d have to worry about.

The thought stopped him for a moment. He was thinking about her in the longer term. He assumed that if she had allergies, they would be together long enough for it to be his problem, for it to matter.

Guilt washed over him as he made his way back to the cart. He looked up, examining the ceiling while he reminded himself that Laura was gone. She wasn’t coming back and she wouldn’t want him to be alone. Laura had always said he was no good alone. As long as Deanna wanted him around, he wasn’t alone. She would understand, right?

In the back of his mind a voice whispered that he didn’t have to be alone before Deanna either. It whispered that he left, turned his back on his friends. It reminded him of the satellite phone sitting on his kitchen counter in the farmhouse. He pushed that voice right down to join his guilt and let the quiet rage at their failure eat away at it.

As he was looking up at the ceiling, Clint started walking forward again while pushing the cart absentmindedly. Rather abruptly, the cart crashed into a shelf and he rammed his abdomen into the metal bar with a grunt. Really, he needed to watch where the hell he was walking.

The shelf he crashed into had a display of umbrellas hanging off of hooks. They rattled and clacked together and against the shelf. It was like a sign from above but Clint would much rather believe it was a sign from Laura when two umbrellas fell into his cart. Only two.

He had to move on. He had to move forward. There wasn’t anything he could do to change the past. It was done.

Clint took a deep breath and steadied himself before moving on, toward the registers. There wasn’t any power and he had no intention of making even a good faith effort to pay for the goods. But he didn’t feel like pushing the cart through the sticky dark rain and hoping that everything would stay dry.

He loaded up the bags with what loot he had tossed into the cart and hooked them all on his arms. It was awkward but it wasn’t overly heavy, all things considered. He extended the compact wand and stuck the end outside into the rain. Pressing the button on the handle, it sprang opened and he shuffled out and under it.

It kept the rain off of him and mostly off the bags and for that Clint was thankful. From the side window of the RV, he could see Dee watching. It was odd but it felt nice to have someone watching for him, waiting for him. The guilt he expected to feel at the realization wasn’t as sharp as he expected it to be.

And that was a good thing.

Whatever it was that he and Dee had been dancing around, it was a little flame, flickering in the darkness. And it was a good thing. For as long as they shared it, he would hold onto it, nurture it.

She was what he needed, he decided as he smiled up at her. She disappeared from the window and opened the door for him, ushering him inside with a smile of her own. It felt good to have someone watching, waiting for him to come back.

“Any problems?”

“None.” Clint answered, slipping one arm forward he stood in the rain as she took a few bags off his arms at a time. “Place hadn’t been touched since…”

“Since it happened?” Dee filled in for him and Clint gave her an appreciative smile. “I wonder if there are other places like this? Just… empty of people?”

“You’ve done more traveling than I have so far.” Clint shrugged.

Transferring bags from one hand to the other so he could reach inside and set them on the counter. Once free of the weight, he slipped into the door. With it closed behind him and the umbrella folded away, he was thankful to be out from the rain.

“I figured you would have been all over doing…”

“Avenger stuff?” Clint shrugged as he dug around in the bags before settling on being a responsible adult and unpacking the bags to put things away. “I haven’t been.”

This could have been a conversation they had before. But during times of great trauma and extending afterword, the memory becomes a strange thing.

“Oh.” Dee settled on the couch, not sure exactly what it was she should do or say. What she wanted to do was ask ‘why?’ but she couldn’t find it in her to voice the question. He seemed to know, however.

“I went to New York twice. Once shortly after and once when Tony came back.” Clint spoke with his back to her as he put away cans and bottles as if he was talking about the weather. “It was hard to be there. To see them. So I went home and I figured I’d wait for a few weeks for it to get easier. But what got easier was not answering their calls, their messages.”

“Do you blame them?” She asked as Clint took the boot out of the packaging. It was thick and sturdy. He assured her that she would be able to walk with it on without crutches after a bit though it would be awkward and still somewhat painful.

He was silent for a minute, knelt in front of her. Her words froze him for a moment while he worked the boot onto her foot. He hadn't given it voice before. “I don’t want to. I shouldn’t. But…”

“But?” she urged.

“I do.”

The awkward silence hung in the air as Clint urged her to step around, getting used to the heavy weight of the boot. She was still a bit unstable but with her ankle supported and compressed, it felt a hell of a lot better.

Outside, the rain fell harder.

“Should we move on?” Dee asked, hobbling a little faster through the space.

Clint thought for a moment before answering. “We should stay put. Find a wide alley and set up shop for the night.”

“Why an alley?” Deanna slipped into the passenger seat as Clint dumped himself into the driver’s seat and put the RV in gear.

“The storm looks like it could get strong tonight. An alley would protect us from the wind for the night… or however long until the storm blows over.”

“It could take longer than the night?” She asked the RV slowly lumbered down the the road as rain poured down harder.

“Yeah, maybe.” Clint didn’t want to say it but he hoped this storm was as big as he feared. It was nice being away from the farm house. It was nice being with her and only having the shadow of the ghost of Laura hanging over him. “It could be. This time of year- they happen. And with all the dust, the weather’s been wacky at best.”

Deanna asked what they would do if they couldn’t travel and Clint shrugged. She didn’t push it though she wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of spending over a day sitting in one place, riding out a storm. They had little else to do but wait and the idea of it was killing her.

Because she was so preoccupied with her dread, she was completely caught off guard when Clint stopped the RV, pulled close to a building. She looked around but couldn’t spot why they had stopped. Clint was relaxed and at ease, so she felt no cause for alarm. But nothing made sense.

“Grab the umbrella.” Clint ordered, a wide smile on his face.

“What?” She asked dumbly when he handed her a plastic grocery bag.

“For your foot. To keep it dry.” Clint told her, stepping out under the shelter of the umbrella. “Come on, hurry up.”

“What?” Again the word dumbly slipped out of her. “Where are we going?”

“Inside.” Clint answered as if that made anything make more sense.

“Why?” Regardless of her hesitations, Deanna trusted him and began to hobble down the steps. Clint was waiting outside the door with a second umbrella held up and open for her.

“It’s an old video store. Looks untouched too.”

“I thought the only video stores that were left were for…”

“Porn?” Clint said as if it was something they would talk about any other day. “I never understood the appeal of renting porn videos- not physical copies at least. You never know what’s on them.”

“Ew.” Deanna couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with someone who at one point was a part of the team in charge of protecting the whole world.

“Right?” Clint held a hand out for her as she stepped down. “This one is a regular old fashioned one- like a Blockbusters but actually still in business. Their selection probably isn’t that great but it’s like a living dinosaur.”

“More like freshly deceased.” Deanna couldn’t help adding and he laughed.

“A good point.”

While Deanna stood to the side, Clint worked the sliding doors open, using a crowbar to break the lock. She tried not to watch too closely the way his muscles worked and flexed. She tried not to notice how his shoulders moved. But she failed.

Once inside, they left their umbrellas leaning against the wall. Clint assured her repeatedly that this was one of the few towns he knew of that were almost deserted. There were small carts, more of a gimmick than anything but Clint selected one for himself and one for her.

“Grab whatever you want. Candy should still be good. Same goes for the popcorn- there’s enough fucking preservatives in almost everything in here, it’s all probably still safe.”

“So what, we load up on junk food and have a movie night?” Dee laughed in a way that if the world hadn’t just nearly ended a month ago would have given Clint pause and made him worry. Now? He would more be worried if she didn’t show any signs of instability so he ignored the brittle edge to the sound.

“Yeah.” He offered one of his brightest smiles as he grabbed what had been one of the latest action movies and dropped it into his cart. “Why not? The RV has an entertainment system so there isn’t a single reason why we can’t watch some movies. And we’re going to at least have to wait out tonight.”

She wasn’t wholly sold on the idea. It seemed wrong but she didn’t protest. Instead, she walked the aisles- or rather hobbled, the cart helped a lot, next to Clint. While he looked at many action movies, many horrors, more often than not, she watched him put them back on the shelf.

She didn’t question him on it. It was something she understood. There was enough horror in the world right now, enough violence. They didn’t need to indulge in it now and call it ‘entertainment’.

Carts gathered comedy and romance films. Clint laughed as she grabbed a copy of almost every ‘how to’ and documentary she could. When asked why, she reminded him that knowledge was going to soon be in short supply, if the world was indeed not going to be fixed any time soon, who knows what they would need to know.

Sodas and candy were tossed on top. Bags and bags of popcorn joined the piles. Each knew they would be making themselves sick with all the junk but still they added more. When their options had been exhausted they made their way back to the front.

“Is this everything we want?” Clint asked.

“I can’t imagine we need another bag of gummy snacks.” Deanna answered with a chuckle.

“Probably have more than enough.” He agreed.

“You think?” God, Clint realized he loved her laugh, even with that brittle edge to it.

“Well, milady, would you do me the great honor of accompanying me for a movie or six?” He bowed dramatically at the waist with a wide grin on his face but what she couldn’t see was that he was holding his breath.

“I guess I’m not going to find another date around here.” She smiled and Clint could breath again, a little easier now.

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller, @usedtobegoodfriend96, @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @theoneanna, @toozmanykids, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @bambamwolf87, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @carissime72, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @myoxisbroken, @wegingerangelica

#clint x reader #clint barton x reader #clint barton x female reader #clint x original character #clint x original female character #clint barton x oc #clint x ofc #clint x oc #clint barton x ofc #clint barton x original character #clint barton x original female character

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rxpper-roo · 5 years ago

Text

💣 The End Of Everything 💣

{💣}—; It started as nothing more but an ordinary day, I was sitting down and reading one of my favorite books in my collection down in the underwater tube complex I had built connected to my home on Wumpa Island, that led out into the ocean.

A place that I had created to conduct research and if I prefer to spend time with the beautiful sights of the underwater world, and to just be alone for a while. I couldn’t have known this decision to be down here for this point in time would have saved me from initial fallout of a disaster...one that would cause the end of days...

Just as I was about to take a sip of tea I had made for myself I felt the area around me start shaking as a loud boom could be heard beyond the glass of the complex. I quickly got up and looked out a window, and despite being underwater I could see fire and it looked like something terrible must have happened.

So I quickly checked security cameras I have above ground in my home for safety reasons, and saw what looked like a large explosion had taken place and was releasing toxic fumes and radiation. I pondered what could have caused this, and my immediate reaction of course was that this must be the cause of Dr. Cortex. If this were his doing, the he’s going too far this time because being as knowledgeable in many forms of science and history I know that the effects of radiation poisoning and contamination could be very deadly and have terrible consequences.

As a safety measure I locked down the facility including the elevator that went back up...though I felt guilty because I had many associates above ground on the surface who I’d welcome here but I could not go treading through potentially now contaminated grounds and risk my health and safety, thus potentially making my own mental state worse than it needs to be.

Being my underwater facility I at least had plenty of food and water in the event of emergencies, but even supplies as a precaution wouldn’t last forever but I had enough to last a while.

___________________

3 weeks later:

21 Days Without an incident.

As I got up this morning I noticed very quickly that something wasn’t right, the water outside the windows of the tubes started to change color, a more green yellow hue. It would appear as if it’s become ripe with toxic materials. The water levels seem to also be draining, I can’t explain why but I’ve begun to realize that it’s been lonely having no one to talk to...I desperately wish for someone to talk to some days and hope that I don’t have an episode of insanity at this time as for one wrong move could compromise the entire complex and if that should happen...I don’t know if I could hope to attempt a safe escape.

I’ve been using materials I have here to try and figure out a way to craft a breathing mask, for I have no true understanding of what the air quality on the outside could potentially be or if there is anyone still alive out there....goodness I would certainly hope so, if things are as bad as I predict then no one deserves such a fate.

After checking the cameras again above, all I see out there is a ship that I recognize as belonging to Dr. N.Gin that sits right above the tubes and I couldn’t even begin to guess what the doctor is doing...I certainly hope they are not up to not good at this point in time. I could tell the world outside looks worse for wear, the beautiful landscapes have been snuffed out and ruined, it pains me to say even my home and collection of books...some of which were priceless are likely lost to the radiation.

...

During the night the blue kangaroo would feel my head begin to throb to the point as he would breathe heavily, until he felt an uncontrollable sense of fanatical excitement! Feeling a burst of energy he cackled as the mutant would go hopping around the facility. As he placed TNT crates all around the place, his toes and fingers under the straitjacket twitched with anticipation as the crates exploded all around the place for the fun of it! To him it was an excellent time, the explosions, they were fabulous, genius work!

Feeling urges in his head he pressed his face against the glass, from what he’d remember of that is my tongue sticking to it as I peered out into the murky water that seemed to evaporate more and more every time he looked...

Unfortunately for him all this came with a price...

___________________

2 days later:

2 days without an incident.

Unbelievable...it would seem that a crack has begun to form on the tube near the fossil room, and I believe that it’s unfortunately my own doing as I woke up in the night and had another episode. This crack if it grows could put an end to this safe haven I’ve had for the past weeks and....I cannot have that. I needed some way to fix it but how could this happen, I looked at the crack and placed a foot up to it but I wasn’t a fool I ensured to use a thick cloth and when I looked back I saw the cloth was now wet...

Panic began to swell in my stomach...if the time came where I would have to leave this place then I would have to venture out and hope for the best even if it meant no more safety because once the water drained entirely then this place would be no longer safe as it would be completely accessible and exposed to the outside.

I can hear the glass straining, and the more I watched it I can see water dripping from it and I’m always trying to block it to ensure the potentially dangerous water doesn’t cause me trouble.

___________________

No...NO!

It’s a catastrophe! I woke up today to a loud crash and the sound of...glass breaking and a rush of water. Thankfully the emergency protocol did it’s work but I am seeing now that Dr. N. Gin’s ship has been hit with some kind of attack and sunk right on top of the tube complex....breaching the glass on the other side and causing the cracks in my area to spread, I’m afraid this is the end of my facility if the remainder of the water doesn’t contaminate everything the poisoned water will.

My...how strange that feels, my stomach feels warm and as I feel chills across my body and I feel my knees shaking I know what this is, I’m scared and I’m not afraid to admit it to myself. I’m fearful of what is going to become of me and what fate I will meet if I don’t leave before it’s too late.

I have to go, and so I’ve quickly assembled any and all supplies I still have here into a pack and placed it around myself like a backpack, soon the tubes will collapse and see the end of their days and even if the water is at an all time low and when it inevitably dries out...the tubes won’t be a haven for anyone anymore.

...

The moment I took the elevator up, thank goodness it still worked otherwise I’d be stranded and have no choice but to wait to die...upon exiting I felt my lungs and eyes burn and string with unsavory air and atmosphere that had me coughing as I wasn’t used to this.

But I pushed forward through what remained of my home which was dusty and had piles of strange substance even on the dusty old books of which some survived most didn’t.

So I stepped to the entrance of my home and looked out to see what appeared to be a land unlike what I knew it to be...it was like an industrial sector....and not much water left where the ocean should have plenty all I saw was mostly dry land.

___________________

Once night had come to an end I ventured out to see that the water had reached an all time low and I could see my underwater or now desert facility completely dilapidated and in shambles. All that work and time...completely destroyed. But it surely didn’t matter now given how the entire surrounding area looked, I could see clear marks of graffiti along the surrounding area and others moving around...I was feeling hungry so I prepared some of the leftovers I managed to salvage all as an attempt to stay out of conflict as long as possible.

But while scavenging around closer to my old home I found some spray cans, and other items that I notice there is a lot of perhaps I should make use of such things...I don’t quite know what the future will hold from here but I must learn to make the most of it now.

...

I opened my eyes the next morning to the strong scent of smoke and ash, not a good sign but I most certainly hoped that there was no one hostile nearby. I hadn’t seen really anyone so I had no idea of the presence of survivors or if there was few to none, of if anyone I knew was alive or not.

Checking my supplies I took a drink of water...remembering to be careful because once I was out I would have to scavenge for more. I kept and decided I should see how the land has changed, see if there is anyone around whatsoever. Surely I couldn’t be alone, but not knowing what could be out here after the initial blast had me concerned.

Feeling my eyes continuing to sting I knew eventually I’d get used to it, but I didn’t know what kinds of ill effects it could potentially have in the open. So I went through my backpack to check if I had something that could help my eyes...taking some time I dug around in the backpack with my foot and pulled out some goggles with red lenses that could help. Deciding this would be better than just simply glasses for obvious reasons I placed them over my eyes, having me see everything in red yet hopefully the air could clear up more so I don’t have to constantly wear these.

Regardless I made my way down looking at large towers and makeshift buildings including a large watertower with graffiti of what looked like Dr. Cortex’s face with a metal half. “Megamix” That face he had in the drawing sent shivers along my spine...I didn’t have a very good feeling about what I was looking at there.

During my exploration I thought rather than waiting to look for supplies I should perhaps just do it now so I don’t starve or go thirsty. It would be the smart thing to do, and while it’s likely been pillaged already I thought the ship belonging to Dr. N. Gin could hold something, I didn’t know what I’d find inside but I’d be prepared to defend myself if needed.

I knew the ship was essentially responsible for destroying my underwater facility and thus driving me out into the open but I couldn’t ignore potential supplies. So I very carefully climbed up into the torn hull and into the ship where I saw wreckage of abandoned crew uniforms and what looked like the impression of a walrus in the wall as if he’d rammed the wall.

How peculiar...however it didn’t matter in the end. If there was something still behind there I’d rather not see any grotesque remains so I stayed on the other side looking for anything useful to pick up. I came across not much except a still sealed canister of water that was buried under rubbish, possibly hidden so that it wasn’t yet found by anyone. I also peered upon a red scarf that I took with me from there as well.

Upon hearing some voices I decided it was best to take my leave and head back, noticing that these people...on the way out appeared to be some of Dr. Cortex’s old lab assistants. I heard them mention something about the bandicoots, telling me they must still be lurking around somewhere...I might have to figure out who else is out there for there are some I would trust.

I hope on the way home, no one saw me and I’m not being followed because I would not like to fall into unwanted conflict.

___________________

Once I had arrived home again, at least what remains of it I took a seat and had a quick meal. Knowing that things would only get rougher from here. My first night without a roof over my head besides the ruins of my home, I hear strange sounds at night and I haven’t seen a familiar face out here yet but I try my best to keep my sanity. I woke up late in the night, and I could’ve sworn I felt something push it’s snout up against me but I cannot be sure. It quite honestly shakes me to my core. I’m fully capable of defending myself but I couldn’t have the slightest idea of what’s out there...

#drabbles #v. end of days #verse introduction

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 5 years ago

Text

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter One

Warnings: slight injury, f-bomb

Word Count: 3 593

Huffing in annoyance, you brushed a strand out of your face, leaning against the harsh wind that blew heavy drops of rain across the city. It had been blazing hot for the past few weeks, and most parks resembled deserts rather than the green oasis they were supposed to be. And of course you were happy for the change in weather, but why did this have to be on your way to the office? Now you would have to wear wet trousers for the rest of the day. Great.

An extra strong gust of wind blew the hood of your rain jacket off, making you curse under your breath. Reaching for it, to pull it back up, you brushed the newly cut, short hair at the side of your head. It had been a brave choice, to have one side of your otherwise long hair shaved off, but the new look made you feel so much more like yourself, and you did not regret this decision in the least.

Just when you had pulled the hood up again, and tied a knot into the strings that made sure it would stay in place, something hit you hard in the shoulder. Before you even managed to realise what exactly had happened, the impact send you to the floor, and you painfully landed on your hands and hip. Pain shot through the parts of your body that had collided with the floor and the man who had run into you just stormed past you, as if nothing had happened.

Embarrassment mixed with the unpleasant surprise and the stinging of the pain, causing tears to shoot into your eyes.

Hoping that nobody had seen you fall, you quickly tried to get up.

But before you had made it back to your feet, someone gripped you by the arm, and pulled you up, as if you weighted less than a feather.

Great, so much to nobody noticing, you thought, feeling the embarrassment increasing.

Looking up into the face of the person, you found a young man looking at you with an expression of great worry. A strand of blue hair stuck out from underneath the hood of his raincoat. It seemed you were not the only one who had decided to make some brave choices concerning your hairstyle.

“Are you alright,” he asked in concern, his hand still resting on your upper arm, as if to make sure he could catch you, should you tumble.

“I-” trying to form a coherent thought, you looked down on your body.

The trousers were stained not only with rainwater but also with the dirt of the sidewalk. Furrowing your brows in annoyance, you focused on your hands. Your palms felt like they were burning up, and on your weak hand you had even scratched off a little bit of skin.

“I think I’m fine,” you finally managed to stutter out.

“Yeah?” The young man still gave you a concerned look.

“Just a scratch,” you replied and showed him your palm.

Letting go of your arm, he carefully took your hands in his to take a closer look.

“May I?”

He gave you a questioning look, and you nodded, as if the deep brown eyes that stared at you, had hypnotized you.

Quickly he pulled out a fresh handkerchief, and brushed away the little stones that had pressed into the soft skin of your hand. You flinched at the stinging the careful action caused, but he only gave you a quick, tight lipped smile before he continued cleaning your hand in the still pouring rain.

While he was busy, you had a moment to take a closer look at him. The single strand of blue hair that dangled from underneath a black raincoat hood was drenched, and drops of water dripped off the end of it.

The sudden stinging in your hand, as he pressed the by now soaked handkerchief against the scratch, brought you back into reality.

“That’s all I can do for now,” he apologized, but you shook your head.

“You did more than enough, thank you. Wasn’t you who ran into me after all.”

The guy shrugged and glared into the direction into which the other man had stormed off.

“Unbelievable,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Anyway… Thank you, but I really gotta get to work”, you apologized, hoping not to seem unthankful, but really, you had a team meeting, and you did not want to be the last one at the table.

“Oh shit, the time-”

The man suddenly seemed to remember something because he simply turned around, and started speed walking off.

Confused you watched him basically run down the street, wind and rain in his back. Just when you did not expect him to say good bye in any way, he shortly stopped, turned around, and lifted his hand as a greeting before he continued running off.

~*~

The office in which you spent your time between commissions was small. Every time you walked through the entrance into the part of the property where customers were welcomed, you could not help but feel embarrassed by the gigantic print of a picture you had taken several months ago while attending a concert, which you were documenting. Your boss had been so impressed by this particular shot, that he had made it the new decoration for the entrance.

This particular picture was one from the back of the venue, over the heads of fans, smoke allowing the laser-light-show to paint intricate patterns into the air, while at the side there was the guitarist of a band whose name you had already forgotten, playing his instrument dramatically.

As photographer, you had managed to gain one of the very few jobs in the cities most requested photography company. Every one of the seven photographers, who were employed here, was specialized in certain settings. One of the co-workers you were closest with was focused on architectural photography, then there were two women, who you admittedly did not get along with very well, who mostly did photos of weddings, their preparations and the after-parties. Others were mostly working in press conferences, galas and other official settings.

And then there were you.

Since you had first started reading up on bands you had been intrigued by the difficulty of taking good pictures in this difficult environment; quick movements, little general light, flickering spotlights. So it had been the greatest moment in your life to find out that you had gotten the job at the company.

Leaving the customer area, and taking your jacket off, you stepped through a door into the office that you shared with your co-workers. Kayly, one of the wedding photographers was already sitting at her desk. Her long, red painted fingernails clicked against the screen of her phone aggressively. When she noticed you entering, she looked up.

“Oh my god, (y/n), what happened to you,” she asked in shock, swivelling the chair to have a better look at you.

“Someone ran into me, and I fell,” you answered, shooting your dirty trouser another glance before you reached for the small band aids that were stored in one of the drawers of your desk.

“Not your clothes, your hair!”

You could not help the smile that tucked at your lips, as you reached for the short hair at the side of your head, and ran your fingers through it.

“Cool, right,” you asked, knowing fully well, that Kayly would not approve.

“It’s absolutely terrible,” she screeched.

“I like it,” you shrugged, unimpressed by her comment.

She loved trashing you, just because you were not someone who liked walking around in red or white lace dresses, wearing high heels and inches long fingernails that, with their red polish, resembled rather claws of a predator than human fingernails.

“It’s super punky,” the warm voice of Colin, the architectural photographer, interrupted the protest that was undoubtedly going to erupt.

“I know, isn’t it?”

You grinned at him and sat down, finally being able to take a closer look at the scratch.

The skin had been torn of in a few places, but nothing seemed to have been bleeding. Also the blue haired stranger had done a surprisingly good job at cleaning your hand. There were no traces left of the sand and stone chippings, which had been stuck to your hand.

“What happened,” Colin asked, as he dropped into his seat.

“Someone bumped into me and I fell,” you repeated slowly while concentrating on putting the band aid on.

“Prick,” Colin commented, making you chuckle.

In exactly that moment the door to your boss’s office opened, and he stepped out, a soft smile on his face as he hurriedly walked over to your desk.

“What are your plans for the next two months,” he asked, placing his hands on the surface of your desk, looking down on you seriously.

“Uhm-,” you shot Colin a confused glance and shrugged. “Work, I guess? Why?”

“Because you’re going on tour. If you like, that is.”

You furrowed your brows, not understanding what he was talking about.

“What- what kind of tour?”

“I got a call from a band manager yesterday night. They desperately need someone to come on tour with their band for the next months, taking pictures of the shows, like on the road, and all that. They saw your pictures of concerts, and specifically requested you. What do you say?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest. Never in a million years would you have expected to get the offer to go on tour with a band. This was better than the best dream ever.

“When?”

The impatience and excitement in your voice made your boss chuckle happily.

“Tour kicks off tomorrow, last meeting for the crew is in… about an hour. Here is the address,” he handed you a piece of paper with an address messily scribbled down on it.

“That’s the other end of town,” you exclaimed shocked, already jumping up, and reaching for your dripping wet jacket.

“Then you better get going!”

Your boss grinned and handed you the big bag in which you stored your camera, the batteries, and the charger.

Not sure how to thank him, you just stared at him for a moment before he reached for the door, and opened it for you.

“Go on,” he encouraged, which earned him the brightest grin he had ever seen on your face, before you dashed out, past a middle aged couple who had just walked into the customer area.

Outside the rain had luckily stopped being as heavy as before, but you still managed to be seriously drenched once again by the time until you reached the bus station. With shaking fingers you traced the lines of busses you had to take until you would be close to the address that you had been given, and just in time you found the right connections. The bus stopped in front of you with squeaking wheels, and you quickly climbed on board, being careful not to slip on the puddles of water other passengers had carried into the bus.

Since the morning rush hour was already over, you found a place by the window where you sat down, brushing the hood of your jacket off. While your eyes followed passing cars through the rain wet and fogged up windows, your mind was doing cartwheels.

Would you really go on tour with a band? Your boss had said it would take a few months, so was it a tour through all of America? You had never been outside of Utah, your home state before, so that would be a great adventure. And what if all of this was a misunderstanding? What if they had accidently called the wrong company? Or maybe the other crew members and the band would be total assholes? Maybe they did not think a woman could be a good photographer, or maybe they were all super racist, or homophobes? No way would you get along with them if that were the case.

You had gotten so lost in your thoughts that you almost missed your stop, and just in the last second you managed to slip through the already closing doors of the bus. The air outside was not as stuffy as inside the bus, and here the rain had completely stopped by now. You took a quick look around to orientate yourself before you headed down the rain wet street into the direction of the street you had the address to.

While you had been quick at finding the street itself, it took you a fair while to finally find the right house. Many house numbers were covered or not even put up due to shops being placed in the ground floors, and in the beginning you had been walking into the wrong direction for several hundred meters. But now you were finally standing in front of a simple, dark brown door that had a small sign at the side, with the name of a record label.

Taking a deep breath, you felt your nerves starting to kick in. Your hands were shaking terribly, and your knees felt like jelly. Before you had the time to freak yourself out even more, you decided to quickly press the button for the doorbell next to the sign.

You had expected the door to be opened by buzzer, but instead you heard heavy steps approach from the other side, and moments later it was opened, revealing a middle-aged man, who was slightly taller than you. He had somewhat of a pot belly over which a worn out Metallica shirt hung down, and his brown hair was pulled back into what you assumed to be a ponytail. On his nose rested a pair of fragile glasses, which did not really match his otherwise rather rough looks.

He quickly scanned your face, then noticed the bag with the camera hanging at your side, and a smile spread over his bearded face.

“You must be the photographer,” he recognized correctly, “I’m so glad you agreed on this; we really wouldn’t have known what to do. I’m Lucas, the tour manager, why don’t you come in?”

He stepped aside, making space for you to enter the building. The floor was tiled, and the air smelled a little bit of plastic.

“I’m (y/n), nice to meet you,” your voice was slightly shaky, but you managed to give a proper handshake.

How important a good handshake was, had been taught to you by your father. Not too weak, or the other party will think they can do whatever they want, not to strong, or they think you’re a brute. Find the middle, establish that you know what you want and how to get it, but not without ignoring the other party’s goals.

Lucas shook your hand and sent you a kind smile, before he close the door, and turned around to lead you down the hallway. With slight amusement you noticed that your previous assumption, his hair was tied into a ponytail, had been wrong. He was wearing two tiny buns.

You followed the man up a staircase, and into the next floor, where he continued walking down another hallway until he opened a door, and held it open for you.

The room had white walls, which would have seemed boring, had it not been for the band tour posters that were hanging on them. The windows were looking out into the street from which you had entered the building; a single dragon plant was standing in the corner of the room. Other than that the room was barely furnished. The centre of the room was filled with a huge table, with several black chairs at the sides, and at one of the short ends of the table, a whiteboard was placed. The top page just had a bunch of doodles on it.

Having analysed all this, you finally turned your attention towards the five people who were sitting around the table, and had turned towards the door when Lucas had opened it. The guy on the very left had short-shaved, brown hair, a beard and was wearing black rimmed glasses. In front of him rested a cap on the table.

Opposite him sat a guy in a tank top, showing off his tattooed arms. He was wearing a baseball cap backwards, which irritated you for a moment, but then he shot you a dorky smile.

Next to him sat a young man with dread locks that were bound into a sort of tail by a colourful scarf, contrasting beautifully against his raven black hair. His black eyes glimmered with a hint of joyful mischief when he saw you step into the room.

The next person was a young woman, the only other female in the room apart from you. She had honey coloured, long, wavy hair that fell over her shoulders, and big brown eyes. For a second she reminded you of a friend you had had during high school, but the impression was fleeting. She smiled softly at you, and gave a little wave, which you returned hesitantly.

The last guy was had short black hair, and wore a blue shirt. He seemed so unnoticeable that it was almost suspicious. His face was a little roundish, as if he still had puppy fat, but was rather lanky otherwise.

“Please, take a seat,” Lucas pointed to the empty chair next to the young woman, and you quickly walked around the table and sat down, an embarrassed smile on your face, knowing that everybody was watching you.

Lucas closed the door, and pulled a chair out for himself, sitting down unceremoniously.

“So everybody, may I introduce to you our tour photographer: this is (y/n).”

You smiled again, trying not to get into eye contact with anyone. You had always been on the shyer side, and this was showing once again.

“Why don’t we all introduce ourselves, then we can get started,” Lucas suggested, and when everyone nodded, he continued, “So, you already know who I am. I’m Lucas, I’m the tour manager. My job is to make sure the bands get where they need to be in time, and that everything is going smoothly.”

You nodded, and your eyes automatically moved on to the man in the blue shirt.

“I’m Charlie,” he introduced, “I play the bass for ‘Three Beats’.”

“It’s you guys’ tour then,” you asked curiously, but Charlie shook his head.

“Nah, we’re just the opening band. ‘iDKHOW’ is the main band, but they’re still in the studio or something.”

Lucas nodded.

“Dallon randomly decided he needed to do some last minute recording, that’s why they’re not here.”

“Where’s light guy, by the way,” the young man with glasses and bear asked.

“You know how he is, never on time,” Lucas shrugged. “Come on, Jay, you’re next.”

The man with the dread locks nodded, and started talking.

“I’m Jay, I sing and play guitar for ‘Three Beats’, yeah…”

“And I’m Luis, I play the drums,” added the man with the tattoos on his arms.

“Hey, I’m Bill, I’m the roadie. I basically make sure all the tech on the stage is working and stuff,” explained the man with the glasses, who had asked after the light guy, as he had called him earlier.

“That leaves me,” started the woman by your side. “I’m Lisa, I’m doing the merch on this tour; nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” you mumbled your response.

Lucas seemed glad that the introduction was finally over, because he immediately dove into the details of the tour. He explained which cities you would visit, how many days you would spend everywhere, and handed out lists with all the dates.

You felt like you had fallen into a dream, as your eyes scanned over the paper in front of you. There were so many cities you would visit, so many states. And everything started tomorrow. You could hardly believe it. But here you were, holding all the information about where you would be, at what time, what the weather would probably be like, which hotels you would stay at, and all the other things that proved that this tour was planned thoroughly.

“Now let’s go home, and get packing everyone, but remember, only one suitcase per person, our space is fucking limited!”

Everyone agreed again with a mumble, and got up.

“So, what do you think,” Lisa asked curiously, pulling over a green rain jacket.

“I’m just super excited, I’ve never been on tour before,” you smiled shyly.

“Oh you’ll love it, I promise,” she grinned.

“I hope so, I’m totally freaking out on the inside!”

You both chuckled at your comment, and together you left the room, walking downstairs.

“So I guess we’ll see each other tomorrow,” you asked, refereeing to when everyone would meet here to load the bus.

“Yes, I can’t wait for it,” Lisa grinned.

The band members walked past you in the small corridor, and just before they had reached the door, it opened, and someone stepped inside.

“Light guy, the meeting’s over mate,” Jay announced, causing the newly arrived to huff in annoyance.

“How many more times, my name is Lars, just use it, okay?”

It was not the sound of the name that made you freeze in your tracks, but the voice. And sure enough, mere split seconds after, Charlie had stepped to the side, and you looked at a pair of eyes you had hoped to never see again.

Chapter Two

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman #ryan seaman imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #idkhow #I don't know how but they found me #his smile will keep you safe #chapter one #multi chapter

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ivendarea · 6 years ago

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Ivendarea

The Cradle at the Green River

Located between the Amber Ocean in the east and the Quiet Sea in the west lies the territory of the Kingdom of Ivendarea. In the language of the native Nyr “Ivendarea” means as much as “the cradle at the green river”, which couldn’t be more accurate to describe the country’s heartlands. The massive Green River, called “Iven” by the natives, springs from the central massive mountain range, the Skyreach Mountains. Creating a large region of fertile valleys, plains, and lake-land along its length, the river is not only metaphorically considered Ivendarea’s lifeblood.

Both a sub-continent and an independent nation, Ivendarea can be separated into two main parts: the mainland, a huge peninsula covering around 85% of the nation’s surface, and a large jagged island off its west coast by the name of “Maan Garth”, “the gods’ garden”. Surrounded by stormy waters on three sides and fairly isolated from the other continents, Ivendarea doesn’t immediately seem like the most desirable location to settle down. The country’s rich, wild, and often-times dangerous flora and fauna, its great range of different climate zones, and largely untamed nature seeping with magic make it a secret jewel hidden away behind deadly currents and unpredictable weather. In its cold north a sheer impenetrable ice desert forms a natural border to its only direct neighbouring nation, the just as isolated Darthonis.

Today Ivendarea is not only the home to its native inhabitants, the Nyr, but has also become the chosen home of some of the Aapha of Darthonis, the marginalized Kitu, and many Assadin that left their home continent Atrana over the course of the last few centuries in search of a better life.

Geography

Ivendarea is a topographically diverse country. Much longer than wide it stretches across a variety of climate zones that offer spectacularly different regions depending on where on the map a visitor finds themself. The following description will stick to Ivendarea’s landscapes that stand out the most, shaping the country significantly, and aid in showcasing its unique geographic features.

The Skyreach Mountains

In the central portion of the mainland of Ivendarea lie the Skyreach Mountains. In the language of the natives, Nyrval, they are called “Sylaristrea” . This word is best translated as “reaching for the skies” and actually describes the action of a person stretching themself so far to be as tall as possible, hands reaching towards the sky. It’s a gesture that couldn’t be more fitting to use to illustrate the massif’s enormous dimensions when standing right in front of it, and it is most likely the origin of the mountains’ name.

The massive mountain range stretches along almost the entirety of the country’s length, dividing its main peninsula almost in half. To the east of the mountains lies a thin, steep strip of land dominated by forests, a few lakes, and little villages that specialize in mining, hunting, or fishing and are mostly inhabited by Assadin. One of the largest settlements on the mountains’ eastern slopes is the town Stendell, famous for its blacksmiths, and sitting right at the Ashen Lake, a nowadays inactive volcano that serves as a reservoir of fresh water fed by the surrounding glaciers.

To the west of the Skyreach Mountains lie the valleys that give Ivendarea its name. The Green River springs at the western slopes, providing the farmlands beneath with fresh water and creating fertile ground as far as the eye can see.

Towards the south the mountains become broad and shallow, eventually transitioning into rocky flats with increasingly more thickly growing jungles and treacherous marshlands.

Ivendarea’s oldest settlement is located slightly to the east of the Skyreach Mountains’ northernmost peaks: the old capital city Canwyl, birthplace of the kingdom of Ivendarea.

The Green River

Name-giving to the country, the “Iven” – or Green River – is seen as the land’s lifeblood. It is supposedly carries a particularly potent magical essence or energy in its waters that some claim is a reason for the Nyr’s long lifespan. Taking a bath in the river is said to increase one’s life for a year, and at its shores grows an abundance of alchemically potent plants that have been used in herbal medicine for millennia. Springing from the Skyreach Mountains, near the capital city Saratheas, the river eventually splits into several large arms that form a gigantic river delta issuing into the Quiet Sea.

The Quiet Sea

The Quiet Sea (in Nyrval called “Naluar Serveetha”) lies to the west of Ivendarea. It is a predominantly cold, stormy ocean, with waters so dark and clear that its surface can appear almost like a mirror on the rare days it’s calm. Not much about the sea’s nature seems quiet, apart from its icy temperature, and in fact its name is not in reference to its temperament. Many ships have sunk in its storms, disappearing from this world without a trace in treacherous currents. “Naluar Serveetha” can both mean “quiet sea” or “sea of secrets”.

Part of the Quiet Sea, located between the mainland and the island Maan Garth, lies the Thorn Strait (“Candarnas”, literally the “thorny depths”). Millennia before Ivendarea became a united nation this portion of the Quiet Sea used to be the caldera of a huge volcano that is now dormant. There is still some volcanic activity in the area, accompanied by underwater earthquakes, but the true danger of the Thorn Strait is a huge and far-spread cluster of sharp, spike-like rocks that linger just below the water surface, ready to tear into the hull of an inexperienced sailor’s ship.

The Amber Ocean

At Ivendarea’s eastern shores lies the Amber Ocean. It has a calmer temperament than the Quiet Sea, but that doesn’t make it any less dangerous. On the relatively warm shores all sorts of underwater creatures feel at home, both friendly and deadly. The steep and porous cliffs make landing with a bigger ship nigh impossible, which is why merchants usually decide to take a detour around the southern cape of Ivendarea to anchor at one of the main harbours in the west.

The Amber Ocean has its name from the way the colours of rising and setting sun reflected in its waters in combination with many colourful sandbars winding along its coast create a unique spectacle of nature. The differently coloured sands found in the region range from black volcanic types to warm reds, yellows, and white quartz-sand. During dusk and dawn the sandbars only just covered by the golden waters can have the appearance of the strangely shaped insects or plants that can sometimes be found conserved in amber.

Maan Garth

While Ivendarea’s fauna and landscape is already wild and beautiful, Maan Garth takes its uniqueness to new extremes. The tremendously rugged island features the country’s steepest and highest cliff-sides, several active volcanoes, marshes and jungles resembling labyrinths, and creatures so distinctly different, they could have come from another plane of existence altogether. Not without reason the island is therefore called “Garden of the Gods” or “Thorn Island”. Just like the rest of the nation it is overflowing with magic. The torn landscape makes the construction of roads and towns a major challenge, and so the majority of the inhabitants of the island live in the gigantic capital of Maan Garth, the harbour city Panthil. It sits on a cliff overlooking the Bay of Maan Garth and Thorn Strait, and on a clear day it is possible to see the coastline of the mainland on the horizon from its highest districts.

Maan Garth’s name-giving trademark are steep, thorn-like stone formations. Overgrown with mosses, grass, or even trees these rocks are the home to shepherds and tiny settlements far above the ragged valleys, winding rivers, and many hundred fjords. In opposition to the chalky western shores of the main peninsula it is notable that the beaches of Maan Garth are completely black, a hint at the strong volcanic activity in the area.

Flora & Fauna

Ivendarea’s flora and fauna is rather unique, as it developed largely independent for a long time before the first travellers made their way to the isolated nation. Just like its natives, the creatures roaming the lands and the plants growing around them, are magical by nature – some possessing stronger powers or a more potent essence than others.

Predatory Animals

Many of Ivendarea’s predatory animals are of a reptile nature: from small venomous snakes, quadrupedal lizards the size of mountain lions, to a variety of dragons found both on mountaintops and deep at the bottom of the seas, anything can be found. There is a smaller range of non-reptile predators as well, but they are less commonly seen as their scaled brothers.

Prey and Domesticated Animals

Even Ivendarea’s more docile creatures often have something threatening about their appearance, for example the massive Giant Goat most commonly found on Maan Garth. With twisted spiky horns and muscular bodies they almost dare their natural predators to approach them carelessly, as they will definitely know how to defend themselves. Amphibians such as the large Arcane Axolotl as well as a variety of felines are popular pets and often found in the heraldry of old families. Unheard of in most other nations is the Silk Spider. It feels at home in the more humid south and produces a strong silk-like material for its webs. The webs are harvested and turned into some of the finest garments found across the globe.

Wild Plants

Ivendarea is sprawling with herbs, spices, and flowers used in alchemy, medicine, and cooking. Some are common, others rare or even under strict protection due to being close to extinction, such as the Riverroot. A large range of climate zones also brings forth a colourful abundance of trees and other larger plants, from fir trees almost as tall as castles in the far north, to winding jungle shrubbery, thick vines and bamboo-like plants in the west and south. The Veerali, an ethnic subgroup of Nyr at home along Ivendarea’s humid southern coast, cultivate a special type of tree that can be magically manipulated to grow into the shape of anything imaginable - in the Veerali’s case in particular housing for their people.

Cultivated Plants

The vast majority of the Nyr live as vegetarians, as do many Kitu, so the cultivation of farmland is essential for their survival. Fields of grains and different breeds of rice are a common sight, as well as vegetables such as beets, potatoes, and cabbages, to name a few. In Ivendarea’s warmer regions there is also plantations of fruit trees and tea, spices, as well as lacquer trees. The region around the town Fandyl is known for its production of honey, fittingly called the Honey Fields, where almost all-around the year the meadows are covered in flowers and the buzzing of insects. Furthermore, Ivendarea’s forests and jungles also provide edible fruits, berries, mushrooms, roots, and vegetables that are eagerly gathered and part of a variety of popular traditional dishes.

Foreign Flora and Fauna

When the Assadin came to Ivendarea to settle down, some brought animals from their home-nations to the new continent along with them, but few actually seemed to be able to adapt to the living conditions of Ivendarea. Certain canines, snakes, and a few brands of farm animals though feel at home in the more moderate areas of the land. Similarly, seeds, plants, and animals from other continents and nations occasionally find their way to Ivendarea aboard of ships as accidental stowaways. Thankfully so far no species introduced to Ivendarea from a foreign place seems to be harmful to the isolated nations nature and creatures – quite the opposite, it seems that Ivendarea’s creatures are actually more hostile towards other nation’s ecology and habitat. Therefore checks at the harbours have become more strict over time – to prevent alive flora and fauna not only from entering but also from leaving the subcontinent.

Natural Resources

Most of Ivendarea’s mineral resources in the shape of ore can be found in the Skyreach Mountains, along the southern coast, and on Maan Garth. Stone, metal, and glass made from the many beaches’ sands are the most commonly used building materials across the whole nation. Wood, due to religious reasons, is less commonly found in structures, apart from driftwood found at the shores and trees felled by storms, making it a very valuable and rare material despite its abundant natural occurrence.

Ivendarea’s ore mines produce mostly iron, but precious metals like gold can be found in decent amounts as well, contributing to the nation’s wealth, and there are large quarries used for the mining of marble, sandstone, limestone, and more.

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