#but have you heard of the deeper magic from before the dawn of time?

[eimearkuopio]

Dear Catholicism: what exactly is 30 pieces of silver compounded at market interest for 2000+ years? I only ask because I think it might be time to liquidate my founder's interest. (Did you not realise that money was an investment? I think you'll find the contract was written in blood. I think you'll find some of the veins it once flowed in used to be mine. Sovereignty goddesses choose the sacrifice with a kiss, you know.) Let's dig up those talents and try putting them to work before the boss notices what you've been up to, eh?

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia( pt.1 Here!)(pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. Also, I went overboard. So much that I exceeded the character limit and need to post Diasomnia in 2 parts. I have favorites I guess :/

Malleus experienced more firsts over the course of three years than the duration of his life. His first board game session, his first group trip with peers, his first taste of carnival food, his first sleepover, his first true friend - so, so many firsts. All a byproduct of one person walking into his life and taking a genuine interest in him.

You were the first houseguest he personally invited over to Diasomnia. Not for a tour, not for business, not on behalf of another - no. You were Malleus' houseguest, there to visit Malleus and spend time with Malleus. The snacks prepared were for you both to share. The lounge seating reserved for your company. His first time hosting for fun.

You were the first person he ever got a present for outside of his family. How quick your birthday had come, and how startled he became to find he cared. You were older. Growing so quick and changing at an alarming pace. He could see it in your features and mannerisms. Malleus knew that humans aged at a much faster rate than fae. Silver sprouted like a beanstalk. Yet you were blossoming like a flower in spring. How long until you'd wither?

Malleus cared. Not out of curiosity, but something deeper. Malleus did not want a servant to pick your gift, not even his closest companions. He desired to adhere to human custom and do the task himself. He did not trust another to pick something meaningful and to your preference.

You were the first to make him laugh. Your humor being like none he had heard before. Others tend to correct themselves in Malleus' presence, or try to cater to 'his' taste. Even those closest to him, often sharing a joke that flies over his head without any explanation. You did no such thing. Your humor was curious, and perhaps a bit crude. The jokes did fail to land with him, but he still found them funny regardless.

You were the first to make him yearn. Malleus had felt loneliness before. He's been bound in it's searing clutches and taunted. Yet his rooted longing never compelled him to change. He never felt jealous. Until your smile became another's and he felt a hot pit in his stomach. One different than his fiery magic.

You were his first desire.

Malleus fumbled and panicked. He had finally found a friend, yet he wanted more. The realization striking him deep. The first want he had no guarantee of obtaining. Yet his need for you was strong. He could not lose you. Malleus begun to value your presence. Your joy. The new life you breathed into him. He held it as dear as his family. You became his fondest treasure.

Malleus needed to ensure that you would never be taken from him. That you would never change.

You were also his first failure. On the dawn of your second year and his graduation, Malleus proposed. He had forgone all customs and jumped straight to marriage. Love to the fae was a lifetime bond. No power could chain you to him stronger than matrimony. Which is why he demanded your presence in the gardens after the ending ceremony. He decorated according to your tastes, with colorful lanterns and firefly lights strewn across the plants.

He saw the hope in your eyes. The way they sparkled with affection and pride bloomed knowing that he was the cause.

“Malleus….It’s so beautiful. Did you prepare this just for me?” You ask, clutching your hands to your chest. He smiles, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a black velvet box in the shape of a rose.

“I’m happy to see you like it; however, I hope this offering pleases you more”

Malleus opens the box to reveal a ring. Your eyes widen owlishly and he interprets it as a good sign. Until you step back.

“Oh Malleus….I can’t accept this. We aren’t even dating!” You deny his unspoken proposal with a shaken tone Malleus’ is unfamiliar with. Not from you.

“Why not? I love you. Is that not enough? Do you not love me?”

He fails to understand why you declined. He spent countless hours studying human customs and expression. No. Studying you. He was confident you returned his affections. So why? Why not leave this place and join him?

You explain to him that you’re incapable of marrying someone you haven’t spent time with romantically. That you do care about him. That you liked him and did feel for him. That you could love him, but not so suddenly. You have friends at NRC and didn’t want to leave. Not to mention how him marrying a human, especially with no warning, would cause so many political problems.

Of course he had already taken all this into consideration. He didn’t care about all that, yet bit his tongue from speaking his mind. Another first for Malleus.

“What if I abide by your terms? Would you allow me to court you properly?” He cuts into your sea of reasons not to be together. They weren’t his concern. Only you.

This gets you. He clearly wasn’t listening. Love blinded the average person, and Malleus’ heart bled. You consider his offer, and agree to his courtship. It would be difficult to maintain considering your distance and his status. Yet they were fickle matters to Malleus.

You were his first failure, yet he didn’t mind. There was no true victory without a bit of labor.

The change that he so feared, it became something Malleus adored. Every time he would whisk you away from NRC, or return for a visit - you were different. You had a new story to share, or had changed your appearance. At first he began to panic once again at how quickly you seemed to evolve without him.

And one day he realized that you would keep changing. He’d see a new you forever. All these new versions. A constant spark and longing that made him realize how precious each one was. They would come whether he bid them to or not - so he had to cherish them. Every version of you was one he loved and lost. Yet the fact that another would emerge kept his heart complacent.

You were his first kiss on a dewy fall morning. You were his first heartfelt dance, dressed in shimmery black satin and pearls that he gifted. You were his first goodnight kiss, and first morning embrace. You were his first comfort after tragedy struck and his first sympathetic heartache. You were everything.

It was no longer about chaining you. He loved his firsts. He would forever remember them.

His first goodbye.

On the cusp of your 3rd year coming to a close, Malleus prepared the ring from two years prior. He would gift it to you after your graduation. It would be yours whether you accepted the meaning behind it or not - the ring could go to no one else.

An announcement arrives to him the week prior via pen and paper. Hand written by you and oh how he so loved your letters. Malleus opened it with calm delight, yet as his eyes traveled across the words he forgot how to control his strength. The paper alit in flames.

‘The Headmaster found a way to send me home. Would you come for a visit?’

The letter was not so blunt, but that’s all he could comprehend. Malleus was not ready to say goodbye. He once thought his greatest fear was to watch his flower wilt, yet now it must be cut to make a bouquet.

As much as it tore him apart, Malleus had to let you go. He couldn’t root you to soil forever. His hands unconsciously drift to the velvet rose box tucked safely in his breast pocket.

It’s only natural you’d be the source of some of Malleus’ lasts. He would never love another.

He joins you days before your ceremony. You explain to him the procedure to return, and he bites his tongue once again. He encourages you, and is happy that you’re happy. The ring burns a hole where his heart lies yet he continues on with grace, ignoring the cautious behavior of your peers whenever he’s around. The only opinion he cared for was yours, and he’d stay as long as you needed.

Malleus missed the way your heart sought his. The way you gave him chance after chance to ask you to stay. How you clung to him despite the roles normally being reversed.

“I guess this is goodbye. I’ll miss you,” you whisper, holding Malleus’ hand and glancing at the glowing portal behind him. Malleus smiles, his eyes softening as he leans forward to kiss your forehead.

“I will never forget your heart,” he murmurs against your skin, and reaches into his breast pocket with fluid movements. Malleus places the velvet rose box in your hands, cradling them gently with both of his.

“This is yours. I had it made for your finger alone, and only you will be the one to wear it. My heart belongs to you. Let this be my final selfish wish, but I hope you will think of me when you look upon it”

Malleus doesn’t understand why you break down. The way you clutch the box to your chest and look at him with such pain. He thought you wanted to go home. Is it not what you waited so long for?

He cannot be strong when you’re crying. How can you be so cruel. He won’t be able to -

“I want to be with you. I love you,” you whisper yet he hears it perfectly clear.

Malleus’ heart stutters and he clutches your shoulders. With one hand he tilts your chin up to look at him. Your eyes splotched with red irritation and glassy with sorrow. He wipes at their edges with his thumbs, cupping your cheeks ans looking at you for any sign of doubt. Any insincerity or fear. Your expression from years prior still lives rent free in his mind…he would not risk your happiness for his selfishness.

He finds nothing and pulls you in his arms. For the first time, Malleus sheds tears born from love. From relief. He wraps his arms protectively around you, and tucks his chin over your head.

“If you love something, let it be free. If it was meant to be yours then it will come back willingly. This is a saying of humans, is it not? I could not have you at the cost of your happiness. You do not deserve such a tainted love…but if this is truly what you desire, then I will not cease my efforts. You are mine, and I will eternally be yours,”

{Malleus’ ring is hand crafted by the royal blacksmith. Some would assume that there is a ring passed down through generations of the Draconia bloodline. There is not. The fae do not follow such traditions, yet Malleus would not instill all his values onto you. If it is a ring you need, then it is a ring he will get. He decides to reforge a gem plucked from his mother’s staff. The ring is made especially for you, with a teardrop-cut of magic-infused emerald as the focus point. It’s enchanted to reject any hand other than your own, and morphs to the size of your finger. It is subtle, made of pure gold, and a symbol of union between fae and mankind.}

"One should never make a vow of eternal love lightly. Take it from someone with ample life experience"

Lilia often imposes advice without any prompting. The musings of an old man normally went in and out of people's ears anyways. Sometimes it takes experience to learn, and no matter how we try to warn our children - fate is fate. They will go through the motions just as the people before them. Especially when it comes to trials of the heart such as love and loss.

Lilia knows both intimately. They've forged the man he is.

Philia: Love of friendship and equals. His peers, his comrades in arms, his fellow fae. The friends he has lost through death and distance. Those he fought to protect.

Storge: Parental love. To raise the son of his closest friends, and the blood of his sworn enemy. Lilia has fought through loss to feel the gratification of fatherhood. Lilia loves his children.

Agape: Love of man. This one took work. It took losing all he had, and then losing more. Hundreds of years of healing and trying to be better. Even in his final stretch Lilia is still learning this love.

Eros: Passionate, unconditional love. Lilia has felt this once, and only once. The wound still fresh with a dribble of salt steadily halting the healing process. To feel eros is a beautiful thing, but to have it ripped away is enough to kill.

Lilia experienced his fair share, and now enjoys watching those in the prime of life seek out love. He doesn't engage in romantic gossip, but enjoys watching others live their lives. One of his biggest curiosities being you, oddly enough.

This is because you've shown no interest in feeling love of any kind. Being the nosy man he is, Lilia finds your dismissal of others a bit concerning. He's not the most open person himself, yet you're a young human. This is when you should be wild! Surely you must feel something, considering all the 'escapades' you've been on with other students. The best way to bond is over shared trauma - he's not endorsing it. Just stating a fact.

"It's nothing personal. I'd rather not get too attached considering my living circumstances, if you catch my drift" you say in response to his prying.

He indeed 'catches the drift' and sees a bit of himself reflected in you. You were not unkind, yet also not overzealous. You did not push others away, yet also made an effort to protect yourself. For all the kind deeds you've done, Lilia knew better than to think it a case of bleeding heart syndrome. You remind him of how he was when deciding to raise Silver - afraid and very good at hiding it for the sake of others.

He decides to step in against his better judgement. If anything to repay the kindness you've done Malleus and his two youngsters. He couldn't watch you waste the precious life you’ve been given huddled away in isolation. Lilia would become your confident, as he is the most equipped to endure inevitably bidding farewell. If anything he will encourage you to forge stronger bonds of your own accord without fear.

He does an outstanding job at being the extrovert adopting an introvert. His favorite hobby being to startle you - popping out from random places like trees, bushes, the ceiling, your closet, etc. So much that you grow accustomed to his antics and expect them. Going so far as to always carry hard candies in your coat pocket as a peace offering.

He invites you to play online video games, go shopping, and sometimes pops by your dorm with Malleus. However his visits soon become solo, sensing that his adopted son didn't enjoy his 'nightly stroll' with his best friend being invaded. Lilia didn't mind - it meant that he'd get your company all to himself! There was nothing like watching a few horror flicks and tormenting Grimm after them. You even had a guest room in case he felt too ‘lazy’ to fly home.

On your birthday, he bakes a cake and leaves it on your kitchen windowsill. You found it, and even thanked him 'happily' later that day. He never said he was the chef though....you must have quite a keen sense of taste! That or he must be so talented that you know his cooking by heart!

Lilia felt a sense of relief, seeing your mannerisms shift from neutral to happy as time passed. It was hard work ebbing away at those walls of yours. It's not good for humans to be stressed. It lessens their already short lifespan.

He really should step aside. Let you befriend more humans and people that will support your journey. Except he doesn't want to. Philia's taken root in his heart - you're now a friend. An actual one.

So...he doesn't let go.

You join the college's boardgame club, and Lilia feels honored that he's the first you ask to play with. Each time you sought his company made him feel young again. Thrills did tend to follow your wake after all.

You often spent many evenings teaching Malleus, Silver, and even Sebek about your world. Not something Lilia planned for, but seeing you open up about it put his mind at ease. The different cultures, history, trends - Lilia listens in happily as well. Going so far as to learn some of your favorite recipes. He wants to cook them right away, but agrees to wait for your company. You grew nervous when he brought the topic up, possibly because you didn't want to be left out? Surely, that must be why.

Soon comes another January 1st - Signifying a new year and also Lilia’s birthday. The night prior he was out on the prowl, flying free throughout campus, watching people party and celebrate. Normally he’d spend this evening having fun of his own, but being caged at a school left him little chances to be free. Jumping across rooftops and sneaking around doing parkour was a trip down memory lane. The fireworks and lively people made for an excellent atmosphere.

By chance he happened on your rooftop, and decided to pop in for a quick respite. Slipping in through an open window was child’s play, as was avoiding your paranormal houseguests and popping in and out of rooms.

His keen hearing picks up your voice coming from the main bedroom - and normally he wouldn’t invade a personal space but the door was open. So obviously it was an invitation. He sticks to the ceiling and crawls to a shrouded corner with a mischievous grin.

How unsuspecting you were - dressed up in fancy clothes and muttering to yourself while in front of a floor length mirror. Lilia thinks you’re going to a party and is prepping to tag along -

“Alright. I can do this,” you mutter and turn around to pace the floor. A neatly wrapped present is clutched tight in your hands - wrapped in ivory paper with a sparkly pink ribbon. Lilia freezes just when he’s about to jump down, and clings back to the wall. “Just give it to him. Give it and tell him how you feel,” you turn towards the mirror, holding the box out, “Hello there Lilia. Yes, this is a birthday present. Yes, you’re a year older, how exciting! By the way I really like you so would you want to go on a date?” You fall silent, cringing in disgust at your reflection before sitting on the bed, “Ah. That was such dogshit”

Lilia exits as swift as he entered. The night air whips against his skin as he transforms into a bat and is already on the way back home. The implications of what he just witnessed weighing heavily on his mind.

This would not be the first time someone has caught feelings for him. You don't go 700 years without any suitors - he'd always turn them down with careful consideration.

Except he doesn't want to this time. That's the major issue.

The flight home was long, with purposeful detours until he felt tired enough to retire. A familiar bitter ache stung his heart. He'd only felt this disappointment once prior, and swore off letting it bud again.

Eros.

Lilia was in love too. He recognized the passion growing long before this moment, and against his better judgement let it fester.

"Seems I'm not as equipped to handle this as I once believed" he says to no-one and moves to play some online games instead of sleeping.

Lilia once felt a love he couldn’t express through anything other than fealty and devotion. It was a darker time where there was no promise of future. He swore not to endure that pain again - yet this is similar yet also different. The love is blooming effortlessly. His devotion is growing. The desire is there and so is the fear. All the same feelings yet without the dire weight of external forces adding pressure. This time it’s his choice to follow through. There’s no bigger force at play stopping him. Not even your mortality, considering how his lifespan is almost at its close.

Yet for all his years of wisdom, the thought of putting his heart out was still as frightening as the first.

In truth, Lilia had ulterior reasons for pursuing your companionship other than worry or repaying a debt. Your behaviors did remind him of his past self. That was no lie. He simply felt affection blooming upon your first meeting and thought having your friendship would morph it into something more tame. He had a habit of drawing in lost souls - what was one more?

Now the affection is stronger, and you return it.

Heavens, was he being given another chance? After all these years.

You return it. It's requited. He needn't hide it for the sake of someone else's happiness. Lilia could be selfish, if only he let himself.

The next day, Lilia finds an ivory box with a sparkly pink ribbon outside his door. A neatly written letter is attached, with the words 'Happy Birthday' written on the front. His name is written on the tag in black ink, with your name signed as the sender.

Lilia picks it up and undoes the wrapping with nimble movements. Inside is an assortment of treats that he wanted to try from your home, and a neatly folded letter atop them. It details exactly what was expected, a perfect explanation of your feelings that's entirely different than the nervous display he intruded upon.

He looks around the hallway, checking to see if you’re nearby before disappearing without a trace. Nothing but an open door showing that he left.

Everything after is a blur. While doing the dishes back at your dorm and trying not to think of the present - Lilia appears out of nowhere, startling you for what was probably the first time in months. His typical cheeky grin and snicker were nowhere in sight.

He says one thing, “Are you certain?”. The words held a heavy meaning for the both of you.

Asking if he’s willing to go for one last chance. To take one final risk or simply be satisfied with all he’s accomplished thus far. It asks if you’re willing to do the same - to risk everything you’ve built in one fell swoop.

You nod, and Lilia smiles. Not an impish smirk or a snarky grin. A true, soft smile that is full of released tension. He happily hugs you from behind as you finish working in silence, gradually slipping back to his playful ways yet not entirely. He would remain the out of touch peepaw that you so loved to tease him as, but a bit of his youthful spirit was being revived. His inner self being healed, perhaps.

He loves you, and the world hasn’t split in two. It was his time.

Finally.

From then on he had no reservations in loving you. This was a new form of eros. A new passion filled with joy and living for the moment - versus the weight of time holding him back like it did when he was younger. Nothing changed in your dynamic other than he now had the strength to let himself love freely.

Which is exactly why he wastes no more time. Just as he told you off hand long ago, one should not make a vow of eternal love lightly. He’d take his own advice and seek his own happiness for the first time in hundreds of years.

On a random night with no inkling of warning, Lilia drags you out of bed to the Ramshackle rooftop in nothing but your nightclothes. It wasn’t the first time he’d ask for a midnight escapade - just for the thrill and surprise, most of the time. He loved to keep things exciting.

Except he was being far too gentle. Far too nostalgic. He sits you down on the edge of the roof and puts his cardigan over your shoulders. Not a word passes between you as he tucks it snug around your shoulders - his hand tracing the line of your cheekbones, down your arms and to your hands. He cradles them gently, never taking his eyes from yours.

Then something foreign glimmers against your finger. In an effortless motion, he slipped the ring on without pause. You can’t help but stare at the gem in thought, looking between it and Lilia’s thoughtful expression over and over.

Lilia nods, taking your hand in his and running his thumb over the ring - admiring it against your skin.

“I’ve lived many years. Lead many lives. I thought I had accepted my nearing end, yet I find myself wanting more. I want to grey with grace at your side. To enjoy mundane evenings - greet you come morning and kiss you to seal a day’s end. I want my last life to be at your side, if only you will have me”

{A blood red garnet placed inside a blossom frame. Lilia’s ring is made of silver, and gives the illusion of a red rose in a bed of vines. Red is the color of passion, devotion, and unconditional love. Red roses hold this very meaning in the language of flowers. Lilia has felt this before - but you are his fated. You have chosen him simply for the person he is - not who he needs to be. He can finally be free and at peace. Your love is something he can selfishly hoard and it gives him the desire to enjoy life. He feels full. Happy. He hopes that this ring shows that he wants to live for the moment by your side, eternally}

[mustainegf]

All four Metallica boys (Cliff, Jason, or Rob era... doesn't matter which...) taking turns fingerfucking reader before a show to 'warm up their hands and fingers so they can play their best'. Maybe they make it into a competition and whoever makes her squirt (or just scream loudest/cum hardest) gets to be the first to put his dick in her after the show. (None of that 'daddy' stuff though please. Parental terms in a sexual setting are a major squick for me. I won't get into the details on why in this ask.)

THIS IS SO SCRUMPTIOUS

It may be a tad short cuz I’m trying to catch up on requests

Also no worries!! I only include those type of kink stuff in fics that specifically request it :)

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ¹⁹⁸⁷

Sure I'd hung out with Metallica before, given a blowjob or two, I'm a groupie after all. But tonight, they wanted me alone.

We were chatting and laughing when Lars said they needed to warm their hands and fingers up a bit for the live show. I couldn't but raise my eyebrow at this unconventional method of warming up.

"Hey, we got a tradition before every show," James said, winking. "We take turns fingering a lucky lady to get our hands ready."

I couldn't believe it when I heard that; though what I was doing didn't give me room for argument. "It's all about getting the fingers loose," Jason said, spring an evil grin.

The next thing I knew, James was taking my hand and leading me to a corner of the room. "I'm going first," he said, as a sly grin spread across his face. "I'm the master after all." He was such a dork, I loved it.

James took to massaging his fingers gently; this touched and sent shivers down my body. "Oh, yeah, you like that?” he whispered in my ear, and I felt like I was on fire.

He was quite skilled, his fingers plunging at the perfect speed, curling to hit deeper in me.

It was now Jason's turn, the one who took over from James as he grew impatient. "Nice try, James," he jabbed at James. Jason touched different from James'. He was more firm and hard, a little more urgent. I loved every minute of it as I felt myself getting more and more wet while he worked with his fingers.

"I think I've got this one," Jason said, looking up at the others with a confident smile. "Im gonna fuck you so hard after I win..."

But Kirk wasn't having it. "Oh, no way, Jason," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm going last, and I'm going to win this thing."

Then it was Lars' turn, and he definitely was the most impatient. "I'm gonna make her cum, just fuckin’ watch," he said, his eyes flashing with excitement. He worked his fingers and began to finger me l wild. I lay completely surrendered, feeling the onset of my orgasm.

He was definitely the roughest out of the bunch, not exactly paying attention to the clit though…

Clearly, they were trying to get me to cum as things heated up. Now it dawned on me that whoever performed the best during this ‘warmup’ got to fuck me after the show. The room started to fill with the smell of sex as they took turns, trying to outdo each other.

Finally, it was Kirk's turn. "I'm going to take my time," he said, a sly smile spreading over his face. "Gonna to make you cum so hard you’ll forget about these idiots."

Kirk was the slowest of all, taking his sweet ass time and rubbing up on my sweet spot inside me, the calloused pads of his fingers creating the perfect feeling on my sensitive walls.

My body was getting more and more aroused at that magic he was pulling off with my body. He then brought his other hand into the mix, both of them, fingering and playing about with my clit. If I'm being honest here,at least in my mind, Kirk is about to win this thing.

And then it finally happened, warm liquids sprayed and dribbled, I squirted all over his fingers, the feeling unlike anything I'd ever been given.

Kirk looked flustered, sort of like he just couldn't believe he'd actually made me squirt. He pulled his fingers out of me as he sucked them off, savouring then taste as he snickered at the other guys who were clearly annoyed.

Lars threw his arms up in the air as he walked off. Kirk turned back to me, leaning in to my ear, "Well, I guess I'll see you after the show then."

[jedimandalorian]

Ahsoka Episode 8 “The Jedi, the Witch, and the Warlord”: The Story, the Symbolism, and the Score Part One

As the episode begins, we hear sinister drumming, then a low rumbling as the cargo transfer to the Chimaera is completed. Thrawn orders the dispatch of two TIE fighters. Sinister music plays as Morgan receives the “gift of shadows.” As she makes her pledge to the sisterhood and the old ways, Morgan’s Theme (the Nightsister Theme) is heard. Morgan’s eyes glow green and then turn black as power is transferred to her by the Nightmothers. Morgan receives the Blade of Talzin, a reference to the sword used by Mother Talzin in The Clone Wars animated series.

Thrawn’s Theme plays triumphantly as the Ahsoka title card and the episode title appear onscreen: “The Jedi, the Witch, and the Warlord.” This title is an obvious reference to C. S. Lewis’ novel The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and it isn’t the first reference to Lewis’ Narnia books in the Filoniverse. The World Between Worlds itself was inspired by Lewis’ “wood between the worlds” which allows passage across time and space to other worlds.

The title of the episode does have a deeper meaning, but this may not be apparent until one has watched and fully understood what the episode is really about. The “Jedi” in the title is Ahsoka, who corresponds to Lewis’ Aslan, the magnificent golden lion who is the Christ-figure in the Narnia books, not unlike Tolkien’s Gandalf. The “Witch” in the title is Morgan Elsbeth and all of the evil that she and the White Witch of Narnia represent. The “Warlord” is Thrawn, who will travel between the galaxies just as the magic wardrobe in the Narnia books allowed passage between the worlds. Lewis’ novel is about many things, but at its core, it is a story about redemption. In the novel, young Edmund Pevensie, in his selfish desire for Turkish Delight, makes an a dangerous alliance with the White Witch and betrays his siblings to get what he wants. He later regrets this betrayal and repents of his selfishness. However Edmund’s debt must be paid. Instead of dying a traitor’s death, Aslan is sacrificed in Edmund’s place. The White Witch slays the Lion, but due to the Deep Magic from before the dawn of time, Aslan resurrects triumphantly and defeats the Witch.

Sabine Wren, whose all-to-human desire to be reunited with Ezra Bridger, led her to make an alliance with Baylan Skoll in episode 4 of the Ahsoka series. Sabine didn’t destroy the star-map because of her selfish desire to see Ezra again, and by making this choice, she set in motion the return of Thrawn and the possibility of another galactic war. By making this selfish but understandable choice, Sabine failed as a Jedi. As in Edmund’s story, Sabine is on a journey towards redemption for what she’s done.

The next scene is of Ahsoka’s ship hovering low above the traveling Noti pods. Onboard the ship Huyang and Ezra bicker as Ezra constructs a new lightsaber for himself.

“Who taught you how to build a lightsaber anyway?” Huyang asks.

“Kanan Jarrus,” replies Sabine Wren from the doorway of the workshop. She smiles at Ezra.

“He was my master,” Ezra says, his glance lingering upon Sabine for a moment. “He taught me everything I know.”

Quiet music accompanies this conversation. When Huyang says that the relationship between master and apprentice is as challenging as it is meaningful, the camera pulls in closer to reveal Sabine’s expression, which shows sadness and even remorse.

A quiet rendition of Sabine’s Theme is heard as Ezra completes the construction of his new lightsaber. When Ezra asks “Hey Sabine, Ahsoka ever teach you how to…?” he turns to looks at her and sees that she is gone.

Ezra asks Huyang what happened between Sabine and Ahsoka. Huyang tells Ezra about the Purge of Mandalore, and that Ahsoka felt that if Sabine unlocked her potential at that time she would become dangerous.

Sabine exits the ship to talk with Ahsoka who is sitting atop the shuttle as it hovers. Soft strings accompany the conversation. Ahsoka’s Theme is heard, which is then followed by Sabine’s Theme played by cellos. Ahsoka knows what Sabine did but says that she will be there for her no matter what happens next. They discuss whether Sabine has kept up with her training.

“Being a Jedi isn’t about wielding a lightsaber,” Ahsoka explains. “Train your mind. Train your body. Trust in the Force.”

Ezra exits the ship, announcing that he just finished building his new lightsaber.

The music is much louder as two TIE fighters open fire upon them and the Noti caravan. Ahsoka’s ship takes a hit. Ahsoka and Ezra levitate it to save the Noti from being crushed. Sabine and Huyang attempt to pilot the damaged ship. On Sabine’s signal, Ezra and Ahsoka hurl the ship towards the two TIEs and the wings of the T-6 shuttle clip them, destroying both of their attackers. Ezra and Ahsoka run to the site of the crashed T-6.

“Got ‘em” Sabine says to them after exiting the smoking shuttle. She surveys the damage to the Noti pods. Ezra remarks that this will slow them down a bit, but Ahsoka responds “only if we let it.”

End of part one. To be continued! Let me know what you think of this analysis so far. It’s going to be a long one.

[fates-calling]

Care

CW: Almost-Character Death | Violence | Refrenced Astarion Trauma

Featuring: Soren (OC) & Astarion & Gale Relationship: Implied Tav/Asatrion/Gale (and vice versa)

Word Count: 2,940 Other Tags: Physcial Hurt/Comfort | Minor Whump | Astarion Is Bad At Feelings | Mild Angst | Fluff | Jealous Astarion (but of both Gale & Tav because he wants in on it) | Gale Is Crushing Like A Dweeb | Protective Tav Synopsis: During the fight with the duergar on the beach, Astarion nearly dies: but Gale and Soren come to his rescue. And he simply can't wrap his head around why. Ao3 Link!

Another arrow sliced through his torso like butter, it seemed that Astarion had underestimated the duergar’s aim. It didn't help that they were taking on what, ten of them? The entire beach has become a battlefield, and it was already coated with bodies. He can't believe he was doing this for some strange mushroom creatures. Why did he let himself be dragged along on some heroic side quest again? It wasn't his style at all. This time it seemed he was going to pay the price for it. He grits his teeth and clutches at his side, blood is pouring from the wound rapidly. Plenty of arrows had grazed him during the fight but this one stuck. The world blurred. 

No! Was his first thought as he felt himself drop to his knees, desperately clinging to his bow. Astarion attempts to stand, unaware of how much blood is coming out of him, yet, it is such a familiar sensation. To be bleeding out. He had felt this two hundred years ago as Cazador had sunk his fangs into his throat. This time, however, there was no sweeping numbness as he was already dead. Instead there was nothing but spikes of pain pacing back and forth in his nerves. 

Then he heard it, “Astarion! Shit!” 

It was Soren, screaming out his name from a few meters away. The vampire fell to the ground the dark-sunless sky of the Underdark staring down at him. He can see pretty well still as the edges of his vision flicker with black spots. He feels blood leak from his mouth, and his instinct is to wipe it away. Have to look perfect. He can't move though - too weak. He watches the bard fire off three arrows out of his crossbow, each one striking at the dwarves with a vengeance. A strange shock rolls through the rouge. It is vengeance. There is a rage etched into the elf’s face that startles him. 

He had only seen it a few times before. It's practically a snarl, as the bard's long ears pin down and he bares his teeth. His eyes aglow with his magic as he strikes his lute with ferocity. Astarion watches as duergar goes flying away from him as sound crashes into them shattering bones. Then, the bard is rushing towards him. Turning his back to the enemy, and the vampire wants to hiss out about him being an idiot. 

But then, he realizes something. 

Soren came to his aid. But why? He has to wonder. This entire journey so far he has been nothing but, well, an asshole. His attempts to seduce the man before him - to manipulate him with sex and fake admiration have all failed. Soren would flirt back and play along, but, never was Astarion able to get any further than banter. The bard was infatuated with Gale. He had spent the night with him after they saved the grove, and honestly: Astarion would be lying if he said it hadn't been driving him mad. 

What did Gale offer that he couldn't? Wasn't he gorgeous? Wasn't he sexy? Everything you could want for a roll in the hay! It had dawned on him recently, that, maybe Soren wanted something deeper. That's why he was drawn to the helpless romantic wizard. But that meant he didn't have control of the elf. Couldn't bend him to his will. Sure! The man didn't stake him for being a vampire. He allows him to feed on him whenever he needs or even wishes. But that's because he is useful in a fight. He knows that. 

So, why, is he feeling a health potion being pressed to his lips. Why is a hand carding through his hair, and forcing him to swallow it? He had just proven that he wasn't good enough for the battles ahead. That he wasn't ready for them. Soren was risking himself! 

“Ignis!” Astarion heard Gale's voice shout out, and he saw a dwarf that was trying to get to them erupt into flames. Karlach is somewhere down below them on the beach, cutting through the enemies with a vicious roar. The wizard was now running over to his side. Warmth spreads through his body from the potion. 

The vampire whelps as Soren rips the arrow from his body, “Fuck!” 

Soren winces, “Sorry!” 

Another health potion is forced onto him, he thinks this time, from Gale. The world comes back into full view. His body aches though, and Astarion feels as if he was hit by a carriage. Might as well have been. The pair of men are kneeling in front of him, both of them wearing an almost comically similar expression. Worry. Concern. Relief. Astarion stares at them for a moment, processing. Soren helping he understands, a bit. The bard is making amends for something he has done, that the vampire was sure of: for what he can't tell you. But his whole hero thing is about redemption for him. Reclaiming old childhood dreams. 

But Gale? Astarion has been nothing but, honestly, an asshole to him. The wizard has certainly taken it in full stride, however. Tossing back insults and banter. Yet, despite that the human always tries and talk to him. Especially at camp, lord, Gale loves to talk. Yet. It's nice to listen to him. Astarion feels like he can also, just, talk when the wizard gets into one of his rambling moods. They have had strangely long conversations as of late. When Soren is away the wizard for some reason drifts to him and his tent to seek company. Astarion has been trying his damndest not to let his puppy-dog eyes and wonderful smile melt him. But. It's been working. 

Just like Soren's gorgeous wavy hair and the way he smirks before telling a terrible joke. Or the way his sword is soaked with blood at his hip right now. The blood he shed for Astarion. The vampire begins to sit up, feeling pinned by the two men before him. The strange warmth blossoming inside of his chest made him reel. It's a foreign sensation. Not like the heated flames of lust he is used to. The fires of passion. No. It's soft and soothing. He hates it. He doesn't want to think about what it means. 

“Astarion take it easy!” Gale says unhelpfully, as he reaches for the vampire who nearly falls trying to stand. Astarion flinches as he feels the warmth of the human's hand on his arm. It takes everything in him not to reel away. This doesn't make sense. Gale should hate him. Soren shouldn't care for him. He hasn't given nor managed to give either of them anything. No sex. No kind words. No grand acts of heroism. Not even stupid silly gifts. He has seen Soren present magical scrolls to Gale like he was bringing home gold. 

“C’mon sit down, man. You just almost died.” Soren grabs the vampire by the shoulder softly, his grip is loose. It grounds him, and slowly, he allows the bard to lead him to the wooden floorboards beneath them. One yellow eye and the other a brilliant icy-blue stare at him searching his face and body. Brows are furrowed and the elf curses underneath his breath. “Fuck! I should've not let any of them see you!” 

Astarion is puzzled at the sound of guilt in his voice. He doesn't let it show, he waves a hand through the air allowing his body to stop shaking. Focusing on doing - something. Anything to ignore this buzzing inside of his chest. The lump in his throat. “Darling, I'm fine.” 

“You were not though,” Gale pipes up and the vampire wonders not for the first time, if the man ever has a filter. “That's the problem. We had agreed to cover you and we failed -” 

Soren cuts the wizard off, his intense gaze flicking to the human. Astarion is grateful for it. He felt trapped beneath it. Caught in the waves of color as if they were raging oceans. “No, I failed. I should have fucking killed the bastards faster. If I - if we lost you Astarion…” 

His voice trails off, and his gaze looks off into the distance for a moment. The vampire feels that warmth again. Stronger than before. Gale has a similar look of devastation that is sweeping in. The pair are so oddly in sync it is almost comical. They must have been spending a lot of time together. Why does that make his stomach twist into knots? Not quite in a jealous way. More like - loneliness. Being left out way. It makes him want to puke. 

“Let's not think about that.” Gale breaks the heavy silence, “He's alive, that's what matters. We got to him in time.” 

A strange anger enters his voice, and he points at Astarion, “If you ever scare me like that again, I will make your hair purple!” 

“What?” the rouge manages eloquently, confusion flooding his features. Soren laughs as Gale flushes a bit realizing that his threat was well, odd. The wizard shoves at him, and it seems to only make Soren giggle more. The world seems to freeze for a split second, as Astarion stares at the pair. A perfect image, as they are bathed in the soft glows of the mushrooms and crystals around them. 

They look so happy. That's when the vampire recognizes the blood on them, not from the enemy. Both of them seemed to have taken some heavy blows themselves from the battle. Gale has a large slash across his arm, it having torn his sleeve right off. Soren has about a dozen cuts and scraps from arrows plinking off his armor. Barely missing. Not to mention, the gash across his leg from where a dwarf stabbed him. They were both mostly long-ranged fighters like Astarion, so how -

It dawned on him.

It was when they ran over to him. When they turned their backs to the enemy. 

“You fucking idiots.” He hisses out and he grabs healing potions from his pack, tossing them to the men. Gale doesn't catch him and Soren has to save it from falling to the ground. “You two took hits running over here to save me! You could have gotten yourselves killed and that would be, well, bad!” 

Soren blinks, and it seems he just realizes he is injured. None of them have even noticed the battle is over, as the beach has gone silent. Karlach had cut through the last of them. “It was worth it to make sure you were okay.” 

The words cut into Astarion. Sharp. Strange. Foreign. He watched as the bard downed the potion, wounds closing and bruises fading. Gale followed his lead, though, he fumbled shakily with the cork on it. He seemed worse for wear than the bard beside him, exhausted. He had used a lot of mana during the battle. 

“Losing a little bit of blood is nothing compared to your potential death.” Gale comments, as if it is a matter of fact. That Astarion dying was worth the pain. Was worth their own lives, potentially. 

The vampire shakes his head, and he looks away swallowing hard. “Whatever. Never pull a stunt like that again for me, got it?” The unsaid words rang in his head. You two are worth more than I could ever be. 

“Can't make any promises.” Soren quips, and he grins at the man. “Give it up, Astarion. We care about you, and you can't stop us.” 

“Why?” It falls out from his lips in a whisper, before he can stop it. Astarion regrets it the moment the words leave his mouth. He doesn't look at either man, as silence falls between them. He wishes he could run, but, his legs still feel so weak. He is pathetic. Can't even escape his problems properly. If he had his way with Soren - ugh! None of this would be happening. Then he wouldn't be questioning everything the man did for him, because he knows what he wanted from him. But, he doesn't - and Gale? Even bigger of a mystery.

Gale speaks first, clearing his throat. The sound has the vampire looking up at him.  “I for one, believe it to be rude to let your comrades lay on the ground and bleed out. Also! I would greatly miss our late-night readings! I have never met someone with the same taste as me before in literature, and passion. Plus, when I can't sleep because of this retched orb-” he taps his chest. “You -” 

There is a break in his words, a flood of emotion entering the wizard's eyes. He glances away from Astarion and the rouge's thoughts reel. “You keep me company, and I know you don't like me much. It's nice though. To just talk to you and it would be a shame if I lost that. You're also funny - and - well, I think Soren it's your turn to explain!” 

Soren shakes his head a bit, as Gale cuts himself off from his rambling, and there is a pink color in his face. The bard looks at him, his gaze is just as intense as before. 

“I care for you, simple as that. If you need reasons why, well,” he clears his throat, and he counts off on his fingers as he speaks. “You're funny, as Gale stated. You have wonderful fashion taste and keep this party well dressed. You have brilliant taste in wine and books, oh! And you are just the niftiest little lockpick! Also, you're endearing. I like your laugh, too. And -” his eyes shine. “You'd do the same for me. I know it.” 

Astarion scowls, his skin is crawling. “Do you, now?” 

“I do.” It was said with such trust, and assurance that the vampire knew he meant it. He thinks about how many nights the bard has let him feed upon him. Allowing himself to be held in the predator's claws and not once, has he been afraid. Even that first time: Soren hadn't shown a hint of fear. Astarion groans.

“I think this just proves to me you two are insane.” He states simply and stands up, dusting himself off. Gale follows his movements and it looks like he wants to say something, but he stops. He doesn't want to push. It feels like they already stepped on a minefield. Maybe tonight, at camp when the weariness of the battle has faded. He already knows Soren will question Astarion about this. About his need to prove that their care is fake. He can see it in his features. 

Determined and stubborn as always. 

Astarion crosses his arms over his chest, “That was quite enough mushy talk for me. Shall we start looting bodies?” 

Soren grins wickedly, “Already on it!” 

The bard runs like a giddy child over to the nearest corpse and begins to rummage through their pockets. 

“Gale! This one has a scroll of Thunderwave!” He declares and tosses it to the wizard who lights up as if they don't have five of them already. Astarion stares at them for too long, just watching as they talk and loot. Tossing each other items. A perfect picture. He feels as if his heart flutters, but it's impossible. He turns away only to be hit in the back of the head with something metal.

“Hey!” He shouts and spins around, Gale is staring at him sheepishly. 

“Sorry! I thought you'd catch it! It's for you.” the rouge shakes his head before he plucks the ring that was thrown at him off the ground. He pauses. There is nothing magical about it from what he can see, it's just a simple golden band with red gemstones all around. He raised an eyebrow.

“Gale, this is useless.” 

The wizard shrugs,  “It matches your eyes. I thought you'd appreciate it-”

“Catch!” Soren called out and Astarion had no time to react before a pouch was thrown at his face, the bard was grinning with mischief as it hit him square in the nose. The vampire shakes his head.

“You did that on purpose!” He half-whines out, but he is beginning to feel lighter. Catching onto the playfulness in the bard's gaze. 

Soren's voice is sing-song, “You can't prove it. Also! Maybe just don't be so slow.” 

Astarion grins wickedly, thinking that he shall get sweet revenge. He walks up to a dwarf whose body is charred, he snags gold coins off of them. Perfect. With precision, he throws each one of them at Soren, who catches them all without looking. The vampire gaped. 

The bard merely smirks at him, “You're gonna have to try harder than that!” 

“Why you little…” 

“I'm not little anywhere, sweetheart.” The bard winks. Astarion and Gale flush at the sudden comment. The rouge can shake it off easily and he ignores the flutter inside of his chest. Gale on the other hand seems to be steaming a bit, too caught up in the imagery his mind conjured up. 

Then he gets hit in the face with a coin. “Ow! Soren, you asshole!” 

The bard is cackling now before he dips into the shadows vanishing from sight. Astarion cracks his neck, and he snatches the coin that fell in front of Gale.

“Oh, it's a war now.” He flips the coin. “What do you say, wizard? Wanna help me get revenge?”

Gale pauses and he nods, taking a coin offered to him by the vampire. A smile spreads across his features, his eyes lighting up with an oddly, malicious look. Astarion can't help but, appreciate it.  

“Gladly.” 

Astarion could get used to this. 

[waternilly]

No Tricks (George Weasley x OC) - Part 7

Fandom: Harry Potter Ship: George Weasley x OC Word count: 1.3k Warnings: None Ao3 link: here Summary: A tattoo shop opens across from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, immediately catching the eye of the youngest twin. The intriguing owner, though well-versed in the magical world, doesn’t quite belong to it herself. As they navigate their differences, their mutual curiosity blooms into something deeper. Harry Potter Masterlist

“Georgie!”

He looked up from the accounting book on the desk before him, eyes travelling to the door that led to the shop. That was his brother’s voice.

“Georgie!” he heard again, spurring him to stand up and hurry to the front of the store.

“What’s wrong?” George asked in a hurry, brows furrowed.

Fred did not bother turning his head, still leaning on his hand over the desk. Instead he only nodded across the street.

“Your girl seems a bit down.”

“First of all, she’s not my girl, thank you very much,” he said, walking closer to his brother, “and second, what makes you say that?”

“She hasn’t had a lot of clients since she opened. Looks like she’s turned to traditional portraits as a result.”

George’s gaze travelled in the same direction and noticed Oli sitting alone in front of a tall canvas, brush in one hand and paint pots spread on a small table next to her. His brows furrowed.

“That’s strange,” he admitted.

Still not averting his eyes, Fred leaned towards his twin and stage whispered: “You should go talk to her.”

Yes. He should. He was going to before his brother suggested so. But now, he did not want to satisfy Fred’s ego and matchmaker mannerisms.

Cocking an eyebrow, George turned to him: “And why’s that?”

Finally looking away from the window, Fred furrowed his brows.

“Are you being daft right now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Oli clearly likes you! Even if you insist that she’s not ‘your girl’, she’s at least your friend, yes?”

Repressing a smile, George sighed and admitted: “I suppose.”

Of course they were friends. They had dinner together five times over the two weeks since she moved in. And no matter how hard he was trying to repress certain other feelings, he knew he cared about her a whole deal. But it was too soon to openly show that to people. Yes, Fred was his twin, but ever since they moved out and he married Angelina, they had grown slightly apart. Nevertheless, he would be the first to know. In fact, George was sure he already knew.

“So?” Fred pulled him out of his thoughts.

Turning towards the window, George nodded.

“I’ll go talk to her later.”

“Why later?”

Motioning his arms as to show off the store, George deadpanned: “Because we’re working.”

“You know damn well I can man the shop alone.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

Fred pursed his lips.

“Besides, I’m busy with our accounting.”

Cursing under his breath, Fred stood tall. Sighing, he placed a hand on his twin’s shoulder.

“Stop making excuses for yourself, love.”

George opened his mouth to protest, but Fred did not give him a chance to. Leading him towards the door, he added: “It’s clear you wanna go talk to her. So just go do it. Now.”

Opening the door, he gently nudged his twin out.

“And don’t bother coming back until you’re done.”

Staring at the door, George blinked slowly then chuckled as realisation dawned on him. Fred definitely knew something.

Shaking his head and a smile plastered on his face, he crossed the street, trying to suppress the bounce in his walk. Having reached the familiar door, he knocked above the window panel in a reflex and waited with a hand in his pocket until Oli opened.

“Hello there,” she greeted, immediately walking back into her shop once she saw who it was, letting him close behind himself.

“You know you can just enter, right? This is still a store,” she pointed out with a smile.

“Of course, but it’s much nicer when you welcome me inside,” he replied, trying to be charming.

“Can I get you something?” she offered, already climbing back on the stool facing the canvas.

“No thanks,” George turned down politely. “I just came to chat.”

“As opposed to when you don’t?” Oli joked.

Stepping closer, George looked over her shoulder at the painting.

“New piece?”

“An order,” Oli nodded.

It was a landscape, most likely of the English countryside, George guessed. In the distance, a large white mansion was nestled between bright green trees.

“Some rich wizard’s country house?”

“More or less,” she sighed. “Got the oil paints out for this one.”

“Why not the watercolours?”

“Because that’s not what my client asked.”

George remained quiet, admiring the large canvas. The house and its neighbouring trees were bright, a warm yellow light bouncing off them on small, individual leaves and roof tiles. Below them, what looked like a lake was still only an indistinct mass, not yet reflecting the environment. Above, Oli was applying a cool shade of grey to white puffs against a light blue sky.

“Will this one be a moving painting?” George wondered, squinting at the trees, through which he could already imagine the wind blowing.

“Unlikely.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I never learned.”

Furrowing his brows, George turned his gaze to the back of Oli’s head.

“What do you mean?”

She put down her brush on the small table, next to reference images of the mansion and countryside.

“I’ve never been taught how to make moving paintings,” she explained, shrugging and turning the stool to finally face George. “Besides, this is for a Muggle client.”

“Is that why all your watercolours are still?”

“What do you think?”

Oli had a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, but George also noticed how she swallowed with difficulty.

“Would you like me to teach you?” he offered without thinking.

Smiling with brows furrowed, Oli asked back: “What?”

“If you’d like of course!” he added in a hurry. “I’m no expert but it’s nothing too complicated from what I’ve seen.”

“Uhhh…” she looked away, opened and closed her mouth a few times. “I- I don’t know, really.”

“Oh.”

“Like I said, this is a painting for a Muggle client anyway so could you imagine him opening the delivery box and seeing a tiny version of himself waving at him through the painting, he’d probably have a heart attack or at least faint, perhaps he’d think I’d pulled his leg and sent him a screen with a video playing or something instead of a painting haha!”

Oli turned silent, swallowing and licking her lips.

“Besides,” she said, meeting George’s gaze again, “I quite like the look of still paintings.”

George smiled gently at her, sitting low on the stool, shoulders turned inwards, making her appear smaller than usual. Then, slowly, he nodded, afraid any brusk movement would scare her off.

“So do I.”

Hesitant at first, Oli allowed a bright smile to cross her face. Suddenly blushing, she looked down and closed her eyes, laughing at the spectacle she had made of herself.

George chuckled quietly, trying to not make her feel worse about the situation, but unable to help himself. He never turned his gaze from her, finding her embarrassed reaction endearing.

Without thinking, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around Oli’s shoulders. Still looking down and laughing nervously, she leaned into his touch, resting her head against his chest. 

As their laughter died down, her arms snaked around his middle. She relaxed into his embrace and George looked over her wild hair tenderly, brushing it back into place. In the silence of the shop, they remained like this, peacefully, but not escaping the watchful eye of the other Weasley twin across the street.

“How about dinner tonight?” George offered.

Still pressed against his chest, Oli’s voice came out muffled: “I don’t think I’ll have the strength for another class.”

“Not to worry,” he whispered, motioning to peck her scalp but ultimately holding back. “I’ll cook for you.”

Thank you for reading! Also, I'm starting something new: a taglist. If you'd like to be tagged for the upcoming chapters of this fic or any of my other works, feel free to DM me or send me an ask :)

[cloudbattrolls]

As Mayflies

This drabble is preceded by No Rest for the Wicked and followed by Drowned Sorrows.

Epsilo Volant | Fae Courts | Present Night

Ullane wore her way through the rock with more saltwater and steady patience, her eyes glowing softly. The dark gray stone melted like snow to make a passage just large enough for the two of them to pass, with only slightly more effort. The salt hissed at it, making it bubble a little with warm steam.

As they passed through the rough tunnel, it filled in behind them with layers of bone and warmth-trapping membrane. Epsilo tried to avoid looking back at them.

Despite how low the light from his companion’s eyes was, it had no problem casting her tunnel in moon-brightness.

Utterly bizarre. Nature should not work that way.

Yet this was no natural world.

Epsilo kept an eye on the yellowblood to ensure she didn’t overdo it as they went ever deeper.

He didn’t think Uryali would intentionally try to overwhelm her or take over her body - he needed her to get his descendants back - but that wasn’t to say he trusted the horrorterror.

By nature, he could not be relied on. Not as a full eldritch being.

He grimaced as he ducked his head and moved ever more downward into the rocky depths, thinking of Vallis. How was his best friend doing? 

He’d texted the purpleblood, warning him he would be gone for at least a week, but the violet knew very well it could be much longer if they got stuck here. Ullane was his only ticket back home, unless he survived to find an open gate back to the troll world.

Which was extremely unlikely. 

The entire reason they had to cross all four realms to begin with was because this damn prophet had barricaded himself behind them, his gate only accessible from the distant summer court. 

If only Uryali could get us there himself, Epsilo had grumbled.

Ullane had shaken her head fervently.

If he tried, he’d break the world. He might not succeed, either. He has great power, but no focus, no finesse. He struggles to wake enough to act.

Typical. This was why he’d never trusted the supernatural, ever since he’d been turned hyena against his will. Even more so after Vernrot’s terrors had possessed him.

Ironic that the Varzim ancestor had been the one to then set him free, to make him immune to further influence. 

Ullane stopped and he nearly ran into her, cursing softly as he stopped himself just in time.

“What -“ he started to ask, then he saw.

Orange light up ahead streaming into the tunnel, almost like dawn. Yet this light did not hurt his eyes, or make his skin start to burn.

It was almost pleasant.

So he scowled, knowing it couldn’t be trusted.

Ullane sniffed the air, for some odd reason. Then she went ‘ah.’

“They must have warned the others.” She said with amusement. “They’re waiting for us once we surface.”

“You can smell that?” He asked skeptically. “I can’t smell anything.” He said pointedly. He might not be shifted right now, but his nose was still better than an ordinary troll’s.

“We’re on the border between realms.” She murmured. “Look down.”

He heard a crackle, followed by rustling noises. 

The stone beneath his feet had begun to shift to…leaves, dried leaves, yet on the walls they were mere impressions in the stone.

The stone rustled, and a wind blew through the depths of the earth, warmer than any in the winter court.

“Uryali’s power.” She continued. “I can smell their magic, feel it on my skin. Autumn blooms and decays and turns.”

“So what do we do?” The werehyena asked. “Charge them? Try to sneak past?”

The wind blew again, and the hairs on the back of the violet’s neck rose. The light grew brighter. Closer, somehow. 

“Neither.” She said with a smile. “I kill them before they know what happened.” She said in a casual tone.

Epsilo gave the yellowblood a flat look, one he knew she could see even in the dim light of the tunnel.

She blinked.

“What?” She said. “They’re disease fae. They come back.”

A skittering, crawling noise. Her eyes flashed pink.

The violet looked around, head whipping back and forth, but saw nothing. 

“What’s your plan? How did you kill those winter fae before?” He said urgently.

The lowblood gave him a dry smile. “Pinkeye’s treated by lubricating eye drops. Saltwater helps wash out lungs suffering from pneumonia. Influenza’s adaptable, resilient; its genetics change often. Accelerated the changes so fast, the fae couldn’t hold a cohesive form any longer.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled. A quiet humming thrummed around them; he could feel it even in the stone beneath them, vibrating slightly through his boots. 

Ullane pressed her hands against the tunnel walls she’d carved out minutes ago. 

“Hold steady.” She said.

Epsilo braced himself not a moment too soon, for a ripple of music swept through the rock as easily as if it were water. Stone churned like liquid under his hands as the skittering became louder and claws began swiping through the stone at them, eyes bubbling in the rock.

He stumbled backward and shuddered, swearing as the entire tunnel shook and heaved, then -

The air was knocked out of the violet as he was rapidly thrust upward, painfully falling to his knees and clinging to the rock -

- the wood beneath his feet.

The cave was becoming a massive trunk, growing and splitting underneath him as he clung for dear life, shot through with stone veins but unmistakably alive. The air was drier here, tinged with leaf-mold and pollen, orange light now all around them as his head whipped back and forth, wavy hair flying in the rush of wind.

Yet his skin was not burned. 

Crashing noises came from below, wails and yelps, stranger warbling noises and piercing shrieks. 

Wild-eyed, the violet’s heart raced. The great plant kept growing, and as he looked down on the leaf-strewn forest floor - 

Fae. 

Some dead, corpses of all shapes and sizes prone on the ground, speared by sharp branches going clean through their bodies, sprung directly from the thick trunk. Their corpses rotted over and dissipated as he watched. 

A few survivors fled as fast as their legs and wings could carry them, rapidly disappearing in the other trees surrounding the one Ullane had grown.

Where was she?

Ullane, clinging to the same branch closer to its base, her eyes flickering with a struggle to stay conscious as the tree’s expansion slowed to a halt.

He hissed in frustration.

“Stop it!” He said, loud and stern. “Stop doing this to yourself! You have to be more careful, do you hear me? If you die, I die! I will not lose my life to your carelessness!” 

It was hard to not use her name, to not demand that Ullane Wistim listen to him, but he couldn’t; she’d said how dangerous it would be to even whisper them here. The fae realms lived and breathed names; they were the ultimate form of truth, an instant link to another being. The wind could carry one to any listening ears it found.

The yellowblood looked at him, eyes alight with pink, and opened her mouth…then slumped over against the trunk.

Epsilo put a hand to his face and took some deep breaths.

His gills, think of his gills, restored once he finally dragged this reckless woman to her goal.

Three courts left. First, they had to get through this one, without getting caught by the survivors or his companion melting herself into sludge, whichever came first.

He carefully crawled closer to her along the thick branch, looking at her with irritation and a biologist’s concern. 

Her horns…they were more black than they’d been before. Her claws had turned entirely that color. 

“Don’t you become a hybrid.” He muttered. “Don’t you dare. Vallis is enough, I need you to be troll, do you hear me? Uryali, do you hear me? You stop her from drawing on you so heavily, you damned starfish.”

The black bud on her hand now extended vines down her arm, raised scarification on her flesh that shifted on her skin just as the rest of it did. 

Why was she like this? Was it horrorterror influence?

It had to be, he supposed. The Ullane Wistim he had known sweeps ago - though not well - had never been this foolhardy. 

He flattened himself against the trunk as a hurled black stinger the size of his thumb buried itself where his leg had just been and crumpled against the stone-wood before bouncing off.

An insect-like whine - several - reached his ears and he dove off the trunk, knowing hitting a branch or the ground would be less lethal than what was in those stingers -

The tree caught him.

A branch coiled around him like a harness, protecting him and holding him in place. Others snaked through the air to lash at the small cloud of buzzing fae who shrieked and chittered in distress as it chased them through the dusk air.

How? She was -

- her eyes were shut, but Ullane stood with an arm against the trunk, grinning anyway.

He shuddered and the tree bloomed.

Dozens of violet-pink flowers with stony petals opened all over it, filling the air with a strangely chemical scent, and Epsilo sneezed as they poured out glimmering pollen.

The fae shook. Seized up. Dropped from the air, coughing, screeching…dying.

Laughter came from the yellowblood, but her mouth was still closed in a grin. 

The violet let out a long breath through gritted teeth as he was gently placed back beside her.

“I have no choice.” She murmured to him in late response, eyes open now. “With my own psiionics, I can adapt myself more to his power. I am becoming the best conduit possible. Everything else is secondary.”

She looked up into the orange-tinted sky, its clouds dark and distant, as if they too were keeping away from the terrible intruder.

“Let’s just go.” Epsilo said roughly. “As I recall, the next border is at the top of the tallest tree in the forest. How are we getting there without getting torn to shreds?” 

The branches that had speared the fae lifted, along with the ones that had swatted at the lingering swarm. They all slid across the trunk, joining together into one massive branch that flattened itself out, forming into a stone-wooden staircase through the air.

His eyes widened as it...drew branches from other trees it passed onto it to extend itself, going far enough that he couldn’t see the end of it.

Ullane smiled at him, satisfied, but leaned over a bit more.

“I should rest now.” She admitted. “Will you carry me?”

He sighed, turning into a werehyena in a brief swirl of violet light. The lowblood smiled again and climbed on the unusually large hyena, for Epsilo’s form reflected his size as a troll.

This time no tendrils sprung out to hold her fast, but Epsilo wasn’t going to complain as he set off running across the bridge.

He kept his eyes on the path ahead - it was wide enough that he wasn’t overly nervous, and Ullane had thought to grow guard-rails. Still, he didn’t want to miss any more potential attacks as his paws thudded over the wood.

It was impossible to not be awed by the view. 

Just like the winter court, the place was beautiful - a forest of trees with resplendently colored leaves, tossed about in periodic breezes that ruffled his fur and Ullane’s hair. 

Some clouds finally drew closer to the pair, and reflected on them from the eternal twilight, Epsilo saw images of…war. Imperial banners, soldiers in trenches, but gear and weapons that must be thousands of millennia old.

He saw fae fighting back. Killing the soldiers, tricking them, shutting out trolls from their homes with walls of wood and stone. 

“No wonder they were far more able than the winter court.” He murmured, in between breaths as he slowed his pace. He’d been running for a while, longer than he had in the tundra and hills. 

“The ice mourns. The leaves resent.” Ullane whispered. “Next is spring.” 

“What’s the spring court’s thing, then.” Epsilo said with a trace of wry humor. “How have they coped with their defeat?”

His companion laughed softly, then gripped him more tightly with her hands and thighs than she had the whole time.

Wingbeats. Loud, thudding ones coming toward them at speed, and while they were close, the top of the tallest tree was still a minute or so away…

Epsilo gritted his teeth and picked up his pace again.

It was no use; he saw…a huge deer, a winged deer with a bird’s tail and back feet, fly up by their entryway.

Even from dozens of feet away, the animal was large enough, its head adornment bright enough that he could see it for what it was: a slender golden crown, wrought in the shape of various intertwined leaves.

“STOP!” She - a feminine voice, he thought - screeched.

The violet winced but pressed onward, defying her volume and the wind that had blown along with it.

“No further, weeper! If I don’t stop you, your own hubris will! The marks on your face prove it.” The creature snarled. “Such overflowing power damns all who channel furthest ring folk!”

The deer-bird took a deep breath, then opened her mouth -

Singing voices called all around the racing hyena, and a cloud of pollen from the flowers earlier rushed toward her in a swirl of wind, hurling itself down the autumn queen’s throat before she could spit it back out, coughing and wheezing.

Ullane herself coughed and wheezed on his back, struggling for air herself as he kept going, and he silently begged her to not push herself any farther. 

The fae lashed out at the bridge in her fit before falling to the ground, clawing the last dozen feet of it away as Epsilo panicked, unable to stop his momentum in time - 

He felt his passenger thud down unconscious on his back at the same time he felt himself…lift.

Violet membranes had sprung out from his sides and limbs, catching the wind and carrying him just up enough to land gently at the highest branches of the autumn court’s vast tree. 

They shriveled into nothing as he steeled himself and walked into the sky itself, disappearing into the clouds that had come to receive him. 

[jaimiegoodfans]

"Another day in the Kingdom! it was supposed to be an ordinary trip to the village market. Dressed as Rapunzel, I strolled through the cobblestone streets, my long blonde hair trailing behind me. The locals greeted me with smiles and waves; clearly, they recognized me as the cosplayer who loved to bring their favorite characters to life. Jaimie, over here, called Belle from a nearby bookstall. I rushed over, my hair swaying with each step. Belle had a knack for finding the rarest books, and it didn’t hurt that she was fantastic company. Look what I found, she said, handing me an old, leather-bound tome. It’s an ancient map of the Kingdom, including the hidden paths in the Enchanted Forest. My eyes widened as I traced my finger across the intricate lines. This could lead us straight to the secret library. You’ve outdone yourself, Belle. Before we could delve deeper into our plans, Ariel approached us with a splash of excitement. Have you heard, she said, gills practically glowing. There’s a magical artifact rumored to restore lost memories and it’s hidden in the heart of the forest. I exchanged a look with Belle, both of us now fully intrigued. Then it’s settled, I declared. We’re heading into the Enchanted Forest at dawn. Belle, the brains. Ariel, the adventurer. And me, Rapunzel, the cosplayer with the longest hair. The next morning, we set off prepared for whatever the forest could throw at us. My hair came in handy more times than I could count, from swinging across ravines to pulling Belle up a steep cliffside. Ariel’s knowledge of hidden underwater tunnels led us to places we would never have found on our own. Finally, we reached a clearing where an ancient stone pedestal stood tall. There it is, the magical artifact of legend. As we approached it, I could feel the air humming with energy. We did it. Together, as friends, explorers, and cosplayers who turned our love for stories into real-life adventures. With the artifact safely in hand, we made our way back to the village, our bond stronger than ever. Whether I’m cosplaying as Rapunzel or any other beloved character, the real magic is in the friendships and adventures we create along the way. Until the next adventure, Rapunzel, and her amazing friends signing off."

[yzafre]

we're flying above the valley below | Ch 13

AO3

First | Previous

The meaning behind Yen Sid’s words about his Keyblade still hadn’t revealed itself by the time Riku and Mickey returned to the realm of Darkness.

Riku had managed to wrest control of his Key back before, thanks to the help of the presence from his last visit, but it was a shaky thing.  One more disruption, he knew, and it would be over.  He wouldn’t manage to reform Way to Dawn a second time.

It didn’t take long before they reached the barrier of Darkness once again.  With a quick glance, they both summoned armor around them – Mickey having picked his up from a storage room at Yen Sid’s - and headed deeper in.  The further they got, the more things started to look familiar.  Finally, recognition set in, and Riku knew where they were before they heard the sound of the waves.

Here, the Darkness lingering in the air was thinner.  Still, there was something about it – the air, the clouds, the behavior of the sea – that he didn’t trust.

“Here again,” he mused, before turning to Mickey, “No one in sight.  Where to, now?”

Mickey hummed thoughtfully, dismissing his armor as he looked around, “Let’s take a closer look.  I’ve got a feeling we’re getting close.”

Mickey diverted to search through the rocks and thorny, dead foliage nearby.  Riku dismissed his own armor and made his way down to the shoreline, peering out at the rock formations standing stark against the horizon.  Closing his eyes, he let a moment to let the memory wash over him – just him and Sora, no hope of returning home, but together, which Riku never thought he’d get to have again.  He breathed out, letting the memory and feelings fade with it.  Instead, he reached for his bonds – the concrete promise of his future – just letting himself bask in their presence like the warmth of a fire.

But they had their own mission, and he had his.  Opening his eyes once more, he frowned out at the dark ocean.

Something wasn’t right about this.  The air was too still, the sea too quiet.  There was no reason to assume the realm of Darkness would follow the same rules as back home, but it set his instincts off regardless – the calm before the storm.

And then, with a crack of magic, it broke.

Heartless spilled from every direction, skittering over the rocky beach to swarm them.  They piled on top of each other, forming those misty towers that barreled around quick as a train, ready to sweep them up at the slightest misstep.

“Mickey!” he called, stepping to the side and deflecting the first lunge, “They’re here!”

If Mickey replied, he couldn’t hear it over the roaring of the heartless and his heart pounding in his ears.  All he could do was ground himself, and settle in for the fight.  The strange towers of shadows remained ever present, but with every wave the other heartless grew larger, and more dangerous.

But he would not fall here.

He knew his own strength.

Another monster lunched towards him, and Riku swung – but rather than dodge or fall, it bit down.

Way to Dawn faltered in his hand, cracking beneath the heartless’ teeth.  No, he thought, not again – not now.  As if in defiance of his plea, the Key cracked more, steel turning to static and magic.  With every moment, more and more of it flaked away – soon he would have nothing to defend himself with, he would be -

Having trouble again?

The world dropped away.  Riku couldn’t move, couldn’t look, as if frozen in time, but he could feel that faint presence drifting closer to peer over his shoulder.

Well, I guess I can help out.  But this is the last time, got it?

It reached forward, hand somehow slipping beneath his own, between him and his Key, wrapping its fingers around the hilt and giving a twist -

Way to Dawn resolidified.

Why are you holding on to this thing so hard, anyways, It asked, holding the Key a minute longer before clicking its tongue and passing it back into Riku’s control, You’ve changed; isn’t it time to move on?

A breath, and time moved again.  Riku pushed forward, carving through the heartless.  Planting his feet, he glanced around, taking stock of the situation.

Across the beach, Mickey let out a cry, and Riku turned just in time to see a flash of metal go flying – Kingdom Key D soaring through the air until it landed on in – no, on top of – the water.

It splashed across the surface before skidding to a stop, and suddenly all the heartless went still.

The water shuddered once, twice, endlessly, the ripples growing until they began to pool, rising up as a hand piercing through the water.  The wave grew and grew, until the mass began to take shape, a figure dripping in Darkness climbing out and grabbing up the Key, holding it up to the sky to observe it.

Riku squinted, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t make out any features.  The water was slow to run off them – clinging thickly, viscous, behaving more like gel or slime as it sloughed off bit by bit.

Behind him, Mickey made a small, distressed noise.

“I can’t call it back!”

“Of course not,” the figure said, voice low and rasping, “You haven’t fully won its allegiance.  After all, how could you, as entrenched in Light as you are?  It should answer to someone who knows the Darkness, intimately.”

“That voice!” Mickey gasped, “Aqua!”

“Mickey.”

The last of the Darkness fell away.  Deep blue eyes, rimmed in yellow, stared back from a pale, sickly face stained with Darkness.

“Took you long enough,” Aqua said, “A person could almost start to think you were never going to come.”

“What?”

She began to prowl forward, walking across the sea in a sweeping back-and-forth path.

“I waited, you know.  I thought surely, now that you knew, you would come.  That would wouldn’t leave me alone here, to rot in this shadow prison, knowing what it would do to me.”  … “I should have known.  Everyone leaves – Ventus, Terra, Master’s Defender, even Stormfall – they’ve all abandoned me.  Why would you be any different?”

“Aqua, that’s not,” Mickey stumbled over his words, “I was always going to come for you.”

“Then you should have come faster,” she snapped, “There’s nothing left, now.  Do you have any idea what this place does to you?  The loneliness, the fear.  It eats at you, takes everything away.  All that’s left is misery and despair.  There’s no escape.  Soon, you’ll see it, too.”

Oh.

Riku recognized that feeling – he'd felt like that once.  A cavern of despair gnawing at his heels, threatening to drown him with every breath.  He’d had to face it, to find a way just to keep his head afloat.  Back then, he’d thought he’d never get out.  It was a miracle – and only thanks to Mickey and Naminé – that he’d managed to find his footing, to ever take that first step on the road to –

Oh.

Suddenly, the meaning behind Yen Sid’s words fell into focus.  The reforging of your Key with the reforging of your soul. 

His resolve... wasn’t the same anymore.  The feelings, the conviction that carried him through when he first claimed Way to Dawn... he’d grown past it.  He’d found the hope he’d been grasping for back then.  Even if the Darkness would always be there, could not be denied, there was always Light as well.

He wasn’t looking for his Light anymore – he knew exactly who he was.

It was time to move on.

I get it, now.  Thanks.

A brush of amused pride, and a weight settled, satisfied, behind his heart.

“No,” Riku said, “I’ve seen that Darkness myself, and I’ve learned – no matter how far you go, the Light can always find you.”

“If you believe that, then you never truly felt it,” Aqua declared.

She lunged, speeding across the water and sending spray up behind it.  Riku stepped to the side, guarding Mickey and bringing his Key to bear.  Way to Dawn met the blow, ringing with the force – diverted it to the side – then shattered.  Riku knew that Key would never answer him again.

Thank you, for seeing me here.

He breathed, and the star in his chest felt clear, anticipatory, as if it was watching, waiting, wondering – who will we be next?

Aqua lashed out again and he twisted inside her guard, back-to-chest, arms snaking along hers until his hand wrapped along the hilt of Kingdom Key D below hers, hoping to reclaim Mickey’s Key, and -

A tug at his chest, a tether -

The Realm looked at him, the weight that followed him in this place bearing down, down, down, piercing into his very soul and observing, judging.  Every insecurity and doubt, every bit of anger and jealousy, it all welled up, bitter tar choking his lungs, screaming to be indulged, to drown him, to blind him.

Riku stared right back and breathed.

This Darkness was his; he knew it, all its truths and lies, and it would not consume him.  And, slowly, it subsided. 

Foreign satisfaction, dark and heady, echoed through him.

Keyblade, it whispered, and a solid weight settled into his chest, making a home in the star he carried, molding itself to his image, and him to its.

Kingdom Key D vanished from Aqua’s hands, returning firmly in his.

Aqua quickly leapt away, glaring, the ocean of Darkness around them seething with her.  It churned, thrashed, began to rise around her, the near-forgotten heartless along the beach beginning to chitter once more.  And then the sea began to recede.

Riku froze, standing his grown despite the fear rushing through him.

He was a child of the islands – he knew the tricks of the tides.

“Fine,” she said, “I don’t need a Key to destroy you.  Pathetic beings of Light; let the Darkness drown you.”

Aqua’s despair continued to churn in the distance, a maelstrom on the horizon of their bond.

Sora and Kairi’s questions bounced off of Ventus as he marched through the factory, all their commotion lost beneath the sound of the screaming in his heart.  Through the warehouses, the work-floor – towards the lobby, towards the place where they landed.

How, how, how?

How was he going to reach her?

“Ventus!” Sora yelled, grabbing on to his shoulders, “Wait a moment, tell us what’s going on!”

Ventus grabbed Sora’s wrists, pulling himself free.  “You don’t understand, I can feel her – something's wrong.  I have to get to her, before - ”

“Okay.”

Ventus stopped short, locking eyes with Sora – who stared back, steady, supportive.  Eye burning, he swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Sora said, “If you say she needs your help, then I believe you.  Let’s figure out how to get you to her.”

“Right.  There has to be a way.”

Closing his eyes, he took a long, deep breath.  The words seemed to fall from him without a thought:

“Let my heart be my guiding key.”

Please, he begged, I need help.

A shiver ran up his spine to settle in his chest with the weight of a sense memory – a precious voice calling his name, an aged hand settling on his chest, a flashing eye beneath of low-slung hat.  It hooked around his heart, and pulled.

This way.

The three of them took flight on their transformed Keys, Kairi and Sora following behind as Ventus followed the tether tugging him along.  Eventually, they landed on a bright world fully of sunny beaches.  Ventus vaguely recognized it – like a place he’d passed through, once, the association just on the tip of his tongue.

Sora and Kairi had no such difficulties.

“But this is – home,” Kairi said.

“Your heart is leading you here?” Sora asked.

“Yeah,” Ventus said, “Something’s calling me here.  Something familiar.”

“Well, okay… any idea what it is?”

“No, but… I’ll know it when I see it.”

Kairi and Sora shared a glance and shrugged, and all three began combing the beach.  At this close proximity, the compass in his chest turned into a game of hot-and-cold, making him trace senseless patterns across the sand.  But no matter, where he looked, there was nothing there.

Growling under his breath, he kicked at the sand, and –

OW!

Hissing, he grabbed his toe, glaring down at the glint of metal peeking from the sand.  Who left that here?  With a scowl he bent down, grumpily uncovering it, but as the shape of it began to be revealed, shock replaced his indignation.

This was...

Master’s Defender – Master Eraqus’ Keyblade.

It was suddenly hard to breath, his lungs being crowded out by a swell of grief and rage and betrayal.

Master Eraqus had been kind to him.

Master Eraqus had tried to kill him.

Master Eraqus was dead.

He shook his head, swallowing it all down as he snatched up the Key.  This, this is what he was called here for.  Master’s Defender was a legacy Key, given to Master Eraqus when he was charged with watching over the Land of Departure, that thin point between Light and Dark.

And if this Key was tied to that land… then maybe, just maybe, it could find the thin point between the realms as well.

As if in answer, it shivered in his hand.  Raising the tip high, he fed it his power, the direction of his bond, the well of Light inside him, and it sparked to life.

Aqua... I’m coming.

They landed in a maelstrom.

Darkness raged around them, Heartless swarming between the crashing waves.  Ventus got a glimpse of Mickey darting through the chaos, a flash of silver hair, but his eyes were caught at the center of it all, the dark silhouette dancing at the eye of the storm.

“Riku!” Sora called, taking off like a shot, Kairi behind him, diving into the battle.  Ventus, instead, headed towards the source conducting it all – towards the piece of his heart drowning in Darkness.

“Aqua!” he called, reaching for her with everything he had, “Aqua, please!  It’s me!  Aqua!”

No response.  The waves of Darkness buffeted against him, working to push him steadily back, back, back, offsetting every step so that his progress was measured in inches.  Even letting pure Light magic pour from him only lessened the sting, rather than letting him through.  When he stumbled, lost his footing, hands on his shoulder caught him before he could fall completely.

“Let me help.”

“Kairi?”

He hadn’t heard her approach.  But here she was, hands steadying him as she frowned thoughtfully at Aqua’s storm.  She glanced at him, briefly, before looking back at the carnage.

“I know how to deal with this; let me cut you a path.  Just like before, yeah?”

“I… yeah.  Yeah!”

A brief smile, before her face fell somber and she stepped forward.  With a deep breath, her eyes closed, and she stretched out her hands.

The light built around her, a corona growing with every breath.  Just when it became blinding, when he thought it would implode on itself, the light burst out from her – steady waves that pressed against Aqua’s storm, combatting her tides.

Over, and over – with each pulse, it pushed the storm back a little further, until there was a perfect path, leading him straight to Aqua.

“I’ll hold it back,” Kairi said, Light so bright in her eyes it obscured her iris, “Go save your Flightmate.”

“But – you’ll be defenseless like this!  What if the heartless come after you?”

“I’ve got it.”

Riku appeared in a flash, standing tall beside her, “Sora and Mickey have the horde covered.  I’ll take care of Kairi.  We’ve got everything taken care of out here, so go.”

“I – okay.  Thank you!”

Spreading his wings, Ventus sped down the path, till he passed from Kairi’s work to the true eye, the whirling Darkness giving way to an eerie stillness.

Aqua stood at the center of it all, staring out into the chaos.

“Aqua!” Ventus called, trying again when she didn’t respond, slamming as much desperation down their bond as possible, “Aqua!”

Her eyes snapped to him suddenly, sickly yellow light glowing from within.  The previously glass-still waters began to ripple until she blinked, gaze focusing on him, and they stilled once more.

“…Ventus?” she rasped, “What are you doing in this place?”

“Aqua, I came for you!”

“You?  No – there’s no way you could reach this place.  I won’t be tricked by another illusion – not again!”

“An illusion?  Aqua, what are you talking about?”

He reached for her heart, pressing against the wall of Darkness, feeling her flinch, hissing and clawing like she’d done when she first woke up.  Heart aching, he pressed through it, straining against the barrier even as she tore into him.

“Aqua, listen to me,” he begged, “You know me.”

Finally, a flicker of recognition – eyes peering out from behind dark glass – hesitation – desire - fear.

“How can I be sure?” she asked, “And if you are here, then… you fell to Darkness.  I failed you, too.  Everything I did was truly for nothing.”

“But you did save me!  And, and now it’s my turn.”

“There is no escaping this.  No one can withstand this place, not even me,” she murmured.  Bitterness and disgust dripped off her heart, before getting wrapped in a blanket of despair, “But That’s okay… That’s okay.  There’s no way out… but at least, we can be together again.”

Her eyes sharpened, the intent in her heart sharpening greedily on him, and for the first time Ventus wished he could escape her heart.

The waters surged once, spraying a dense mist into the air that temporarily blinded him.  Arms wrapped around him from behind, pinning his arms in place as they wrapped around his chest.  Aqua buried her face in his hair, her heart actively reaching for his for the first time, twining around it just as tight.

Just stay with me.

Something thick and cold began crawling up his way.  Gasping, he tried to kick it away, but it clung on, sticky and viscous, creeping ever higher.  The water, he realized, watching the way the growing ripples moved towards them – the Dark waters were trying to consume them.

“Aqua – Aqua, wait - !”

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered, “Just let it happen.  I’ll take care of everything.  It’ll be just like before.”

“Aqua, stop – “ he gasped, thrashing against her grip.

“Ven!”

Sora darted in like a shot, spearing into the space over Ventus’s shoulder.  Aqua was forced to let go, or else take the hit, freeing Ven up to cut free from the Darkness pulling him down.  Sora landed back beside him, both of them facing off against Aqua.

“No – give him back!” she snarled.

“Aqua, wait!“

Aqua burst across the expanse, slamming into Sora, their blades locked together as she pushed him back.  Heart in his throat, Ventus surged forward, putting himself between them.

“Aqua, I have a way out!” Ventus called, before yelping, spinning to the side to dodge a powerful swing.  As he turned, he let his Key change, swapping out Wayward Wind for Master’s Defender, “See?  The Master’s Keyblade – it guided me here.  If we work together, we can – “

He cut off as he ducked under another attack, then being forced to dance back from a sequence of agile blows.

“She’s not listening,” Sora said, suddenly beside him, “We’re going to have to get through to her the hard way.”

“But –“

“It sucks.  Trust me, I know more than anyone, but… fighting her is the only way.”

“…Okay.”

Ventus had never won against Aqua.  He’d managed to get Terra, though the amount of times could be counted on one hand, when the older boy got particularly cocky or carless – but Aqua?  She never let herself stray, meeting even the most casual spar with impeccable technique.  Even now, dripping in Darkness and enraged, she was more than Ventus would be able to take.

But Ventus wasn’t alone.  Sora was here, as well.

Together, they managed to press her back, wearing her down, until finally, she fell.

She stumbled, caught herself, stumbled again.  Her knees hit the surface of the water with splash, the storm falling still around them.  Panting, she hunched over, holding herself up on trembling arms, slowly crumpling to the floor – no, sinking into the floor.

“Aqua!”

“Ven…?”

He stretched out his hand, rushing for her.  She reached back, slowly, but hesitated.  He sped up.

She fell through the water.

“No!”

“Ven, wait!��

Ventus dove forward, headfirst – the water gave way for him, letting him sink into the depths.  He could see Aqua below, floating, falling deeper.

No.

He swam for her, closer, closer, until he managed to snag her wrist, pulling together until he could wrap his arms around her, press his face into her shoulder.  The Darkness pressed into them, ripping with its claws.  Inside them, he could feel her heart growing fainter.

No, he declared, No, the Darkness doesn’t get to have you.

I’m not losing anyone else.  Not this time.

Make me into pure Light without a choice?  Fine.  But this Light is mine.

And I’m using it to save my friends.

The gentle sounds of waves ushered her to wakefulness.  Sand shifted softly beneath her as she slowly stretched, every muscle aching.  She cracked her eyes open, quickly closing them again as sunlight spilled in, stinging her eyes.  So bright...

“Aqua?”

Her breath caught.  Her hands shook.  Ven... he sounded so real.

Fingers twined between hers, squeezed lightly.

None of the illusions could ever touch her.  Feeling like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, like oblivion would take her if she stepped wrong, but she couldn’t help but take the leap – she sat up, shakily, and opened her eyes.

Ven stared back.

“Ven.”

She sent out a pulse, once, down their bond.  He smiled – watery, tremulous, but bright, and pulsed back.  Her heart skipped a beat.

Ven – he was here, with her – but oh, stars, he was here, in the Darkness.

“How... are you - ?”

He lunged forward, arms wrapping tightly around her shoulders.  She caught him instinctively, finally taking in the area around them in bewilderment.  She was on the shore, yes – but not the one she last remembered.

“These are... the Destiny Islands.  When did they fall to Darkness?”

Ven made a choked, hurt sound, clinging tighter, his heart an outpouring of grief-aching-love as he pressed his face into her shoulder.  She wound a hand around his back to pet his hair, looking helplessly at the silver-haired boy – and hadn’t she seen him somewhere before? – who shook his head.

“You’re in the Realm of Light.”

Her breath caught.  Impossible – impossible.  Could she really be - ?  But the sun was warm, and bright, and brilliant, and Ven was here in her arms.

His arms and his heart wound tighter around her, a shudder passing through him and into her as he whispered, soul to soul - You’re home.

Oh, she thought, the world growing blurry around her.

I’m home.

Next

[girlwithwolftatoo]

Bondage & cunnilingus. Starting with Stephen while your tied up & blindfolded & ending with Mark Spektor. That could be fun 😉

Two is the real magic number ;) Steven Grant/Marc Spector + bondage and cunnilingus:

(This request is also written as a drabble)

"Are you sure you're all right?" kept asking Steven, on all fours over you and checking again and again to make sure you were safe and comfortable. He wasn't very confident of the handcuffs, even though they were padded on the inside, and he was a little disturbed by the makeshift blindfold over your eyes.

You couldn't have asked for a more gentle and tender partner, Steven was like the first ray of sunshine at dawn, caressing your skin and giving you his soft warmth. You smiled, and as if trying to explain to him that one plus one is two, you replied in your calmest voice:

"I'm perfectly fine, Steven. I trust you completely."

The man swallowed, nervous. He leaned in and deposited a few awkward kisses on your face before moving to your lips, where as usual you took control even though you were underneath him.

"Nervous?" he murmured as soon as you broke the kiss.

"Anxious" you replied.

His trembling hands clutched at your thighs, and you felt him leave a trail of kisses on your belly before moving deeper into what was until then unexplored territory. You were embarrassed, but didn't want to show it, and were grateful that the semi-darkness made it difficult to see your poor waxing job you'd done in a hurry the previous evening, consumed by the foolish longing to be more attractive to him.

"Oh dear" you heard him mutter "(Y/N)... Sorry, I don't know what to say".

"Don't tell me anything" you almost purred "It's all yours, sweetheart"

Steven kissed the labia as softly as he did absolutely everything. Gradually he overcame his shyness, and you felt his tongue explore along your vulva, with that charming inexperience that drove you crazy with tenderness. In spite of everything, his movements were precise, and little by little you felt the excitement catching up with you as he continued to exert himself, asking from time to time if you liked it, if it was okay for him to lick or kiss here and there. When he got your clit between his lips you let out a desperate moan and squirmed a little.

"Jeez, Steven" you moaned "Keep going there."

"Uhum" you heard him grunt, and the vibration was like a second caress. However, that didn't last long, for after a few seconds you felt Steven had lifted his head, gasping.

"Is everything okay?" you asked, unable to see him.

You heard a sort of dark chuckle, and then, Steven's hands held your ass, lifting your hips a little. The next siege was much more intense and sudden, you could feel his mouth trying to cover as much as possible, his tongue sliding between your lips up and down, penetrating your increasingly eager pussy.

"Much better, right cutie?" he said.

The accent had changed. Your body tensed.

"...Marc?"

Instead of answering you felt teeth clenching the sensitive flesh of your vulva, then directing their attack on your clit. The energy Marc stamped on his actions was always that wild, and you suddenly found yourself nervous about being bound at his mercy; Steven was sweet, caring and gentle, Marc on the other hand, sometimes frightened you.

"How beautiful" you heard him say between kisses "Did you make this for Steven?" out of the corner of your eye, Marc saw you nod, and laughed "Hopefully he'll learn a little tonight how to eat a nice puss like this one."

It looked like Marc was taking eating you literally, because after a few minutes you felt your entire sensitive crotch, soaked in your fluids and his saliva. A pair of fingers came up to your half-open lips and you noticed that he pushed them in until they almost reached your throat, making you cough and choke a little.

"That's it" Marc growled, you could almost imagine him smiling with that sinister grimace of his, his fingers preying on your tongue before he was satisfied with how wet they were. With haste, he thrust both fingers into your cunt, curling them in search of your sensitive spot, while his mouth took care of torturing your clit by any means possible. Your hips gave a few jumps, and the chain of the handcuffs jingled between the bars.

 "Marc!" you squealed "My God, Marc..."

"That's what I wanted to hear" he whispered against your overstimulated flesh. His fingers moved in and out roughly "Come on, baby, cum for me."

"Marc... Steven!"

"Now that's a no" his other hand made prey of your neck, squeezing it just enough to startle you "No Steven, just me...do you understand me? Say it!"

"Marc."

"Come on, say it again... I want you to say it while you're cumming."

"M-Marc... Marc... Marc!" his fingers twitched as your inner walls throbbed at the imminent arrival of orgasm. "Marc-!"

He swallowed your moan kissing you, making you taste yourself in his mouth. His fingers slowly slipped out of you, his other hand busy removing your blindfold.

"Good girl, I love my pretty good girl."

[monsterfloofs]

Could you please write something with a cute, charming researcher or museum curator cervitaur guy? Thank you for reading!

Cervitaur (Curio) x Reader

(Hullo! Long time no see, it's been a while! Hope all of you are doing alright, and have a lovely weekend to look forward to! Hope you enjoy the short, it was nice to sit down and write again, I hope you enjoy the jovial Curio Flemming and the library of curiousities. ^-^ )

Opening the great oaken doors, you get a glimpse of a landing that looks out into a vast sea of books. Tall shelves that seem to reach up into the very hemisphere of the large domed library. The bright glass that formed the translucent bauble was made out of dazzling oranges and yellows, which cast golden shimmering panels of light across the library. Making the whole entryway seem to cheerfully and resolutely celebrate golden hour from dawn to dusk.

But you weren't here to peruse the books and while away the hours cozied into a corner. No, for today, you had a problem, and you hoped you could find someone to help you. You took the little business card out of your pocket. It was a plain card with simple gold lettering that shimmered in a warm manner when you turned it in your hand.

Curio S. Flemming

Scholar of Magical Quirks and Eccentricites

Housed in the Left Library Wing

Room B-28

Please watch your step!

"Please watch your step," you repeated aloud as you turned the card over to look at the back. Besides that little warning on the card. It did not further explain what to watch out for or why. Ah well, suppose you shall find that out when the time comes.

The library stood as a place where scholars in magic came to study and hobknob with one another. It was the biggest meeting place for the most intruiging magical minds by the far side of the moon.

So naturally, they all tended to conglomerate in the place with the most books and the most space to spread out in to study their unquie fields. So the library kept growing until, well, it had become as large as it was now.

As you move deeper into the library, your gaze turns upwards, watching the strange little small magical durigables carry letters to and fro the maze of hallways. Though some of the scholars prefered the quainter miniature hot air balloons, those also plodded along at a much slower pace. The mail would still get there on time, if not a day or so later than everyone else's.

The further you walked, the less library and more fantastical it became. There still were books, because of course there were always books in a library. Though, the floor turned to cobblestone for a short jaunt, then there was potions pluming multicolored smoke out of every crevice in doors. The mineral hall, which as the name suggests, everything was carved out of precious stone. Except the books of course, because they would be (sadly) just too heavy to read. You even passed a worrisome looking botanical area that seemed to be overrun with vines. Plants creeped out of the various botany doors and slowly curled their way up the walls to gather books from high shelves.

One friendly vine even held open a door for you. And you thanked it politely as you hurry past.

You check your card several times, before opening a small but cozy looking door. Looking up to watch a little diridgable marked with B-28 on it's underside, putter inside in the little opening above the door.

"Watch your step!"

Called a voice, just as your foot fell down, down, down. You stumbled forward into a field of clouds? Dream clouds, the kind made of cotton fluff and marshmallow. And they softly changed hue from pink to purple to orange and back again.

"The room heard you were coming! Though I feel like this might be just a bit over the top--"

The voice called to you before pausing and repeating a little louder and enunciating a few specific words. "It MIGHT be just a BIT OVER THE TOP?"

You feel your hands tighten nervously as the clouds slowly but surely disapate out of the room.

"There!" A pair of hands dust themselves together as one Curio Flemming trots out of the dispersing cotton candy clouds. Four legs of a graceful deer with a neat shawl drapped over his back. With a smart button up shirt and his curly hair a soft cloud of sable coils that frame a friendly smiling face.

"Sorry again about that!" Their dark eyes crinkling with a laugh just below the surface. "I have one of the more active rooms in this department, and it had wanted to make sure you were comfortable." Their fingers grasping yours to briefly shake your hand. faun ears tilting upwards before they trot back to their desk sitting down to gather up a pencil and paper.

"So," They look at their notes as they address your name, "Telll me a little about this anxious magic? How long has this been going on?"

You take a deep breathe, with the clouds gone you now find yourself standing in a cozy room with a desk that housed many arranged papers and files. A squat comfortable looking arm chair facing Curio's desk. You settle into the chair across the desk, though your eyes adverting downwards as you fidgit with your hands.

"As long as I can remember,"

There is a brief pause in the air before you start again.

"It's. . . usually just silly things that happen when I am in a crowd or when I get too nervous. My magic will teleport me home, or turn me invisible, create sudden gusts of winds, or even freeze time for a short period. Things like that. . ."

You can hear writing from the other side of the desk and you shuffle in your chair.

"I think the worst thing I think it's e-ever done really, was the one time it made a sound void around m-me-- in the middle of a busy coffee shop. P-people started panicking be-because they thought they went deaf or lost their voice--" You look up with round eyes as Curio laughs.

"I-it was aweful!" You stammer, feeling a familiar prickle on the back of your neck, "I h-hate having a-anxious magic, the teleportation, the w-wind vortexes-"

"Calm-- calm down, I wasn't laughing at you, honest!" They smile softly, "Trust me, I understand what it's like living with anxiety," he gestures to himself. "I am after all, half deer, and they are always on high alert, quick to run on a moment's notice. I don't think you should hate this magical quirk of yours. It's not trying to hurt you or upset you, far from it, essentially, I think all it's doing is trying to protect you."

You stop and stare at him blankly, trying to process the words. "It's. . . what?"

Curio smiles sadly and nods, "That's what it's doing. When you have that anxiety, that fear, in this case, all those people and the noise in the coffee shop for example. Your magic is quick to react and try to stop the root of what is making you uncomfortable. It's not a bad thing, is it frusterating? Of course! But it's trying to protect you from feeling too overloaded."

You stare at Curio, warmth rising to your cheeks as you bob your head. "I see. . . do you. . . think that's why it summoned a demon?"

The pencil in Curio's hand stops moving and he looks up at you. "A. . . demon?"

You chew your lip and stare at his paper, nodding your head. "Th-that's why I wanted to ask for your help. I. . . I don't know how I did it, and I ah. . . d-don't know how to send them back."

"And where. . . is this demon?"

"A-at my house. It won't leave."

"Oh. . ."

Your arms shrug up feeling guilty,

"That's absolutely fascinating!" Curio enthused, "I have never heard of anxious magic doing that! I'll go grab my coat!"

You stand in shock as you watch an excited cervitaur rustle into a light jacket.

"And no summoning circle? No runes?"

"N-not that I? Know. . . of?" You shake your head in bewilderment before you catch a glimpse of hind legs bouncing out the door.

"H-Hey w-wait for me?? Y-you don't know where I live!!" And with that, you hurry after.

[alcoholandcakes]

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤! ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

<a fanfiction about diluc losing you.>

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓⋅⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

—

TW: suicide, major character death, mentions of depression

—

every day was about you, it had been a long time since diluc ever loved someone.

ever since losing his father and kaeya as his brother, he feared to open up to anyone ever!

but you changed things in him, its like he got a factory reset. he was happy everyday, he laughed, he danced, he drunk, he enjoyed life again. everything was amazing.

until one day he realized that his happiness wasn’t shared. you looked sick, lost a few pounds and were exhausted just from taking a step.

it couldn’t be that you’re sick? right?

yoy were barely in your twenties, you couldn’t have caught any virus?! right?

well, sadly yes.

a wave of the deadliest virus swept through the whole world of Tevyat.

it was obvious you’d get it one way or another.

working at the tavern put you at a bigger risk than anyone else.

serving drunkards all day, touching their dirty mora and cleaning up their not so appetising body fluids.

‘’you contracted the virus, congrats y/n! you should’ve taken some days- or weeks off.’’— said Barbara, the most reliable healer in Mondstadt. she was unusually harsh today, this isn’t your fault at all! or is it?

‘’ oh, suck it up! you should worry about yourself instead of me. this has nothing to do with me! i’m a strong woman, i’ll fight through this stupid virus! ‘’ - you threw your hands up.

why is the whole world against you today?

•••

you’d never seen diluc as worried as he was today, he paced up and down around dawn winery, where you were examined by barbara.

this virus isn’t something that could be healed by some ‘healer’ like her. nor a real doctor. so much magic and power in this world, yet a contagion had everyone in a chokehold.

this is why diluc was so worried. no adeptus, no archon could save those who were infected. he wanted to spend all day with you from now on. but he didn’t. he was too depressed to even look in the mirror. he burried himself in work.

his workers also became worried, master dilucs fiancée has the virus!

the news spread like wildfire, eventually it reached kaeya too.

•••

after two weeks of you being in quarantine kaeya snuck into your room, just to check up on you.

he might not be on the best terms with your soon-to-be husband, but he had nothing against you. he found you very interesting, you had a way with words. so did he!

he climbed in through your window, with a swift jump he was already at the foot of your bed with a bouquet of flowers and some fruity skewers. the mix of flori and cucumbers filled your room. finally, kaeya began to talk.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“ mademoiselle!~ i heard about your condition, hope i’m not bothering you with my blossoming herbs!”— he set the flowers down on your nightstand. the man then cuddled you for a good few moments until your belly scurried as a signs of hunger.

“ amazing timing, kay “ you winked and set down your book in your lap, then reached towards the blue haired boy, holding the meaty snacks.

•••

“ Mrs Ragnvindr, i don’t think you’ll survive the new year.” said a somber voice from across the room.

“ Yeah, i figured…” you sighed.

everyone keeps reminding you of your health status ( which in this case really isn’t good ),

and it’s getting tiring. it weighs down your shoulders. you’re already exhausted from your own sadness, but your family’s concern hurt you even more. you weren’t sad for yourself, you were sad for others!

especially diluc.

he was ruined already, your passing would kill the light in him completely. his dear partner leaving him behind, as everyone else did before would make him spiral down into something deeper than depression maybe.

•••

the days passed, your condition worsened minute by minute. you were weaker than a leaf.

you could die at any moment.

and so you did.

you passed away silently while taking a nap on a beautiful afternoon.

birds were chirping, butterflies were flying around. the smell of dandelion wine filled the air.

diluc was bawling. punching the floor and tugging on his hair.

he knew the day would come, but he didn’t know when. it devastated him.

it devastated the whole city.

everyone loved you.

diluc loved you the most.

he couldn’t deal with the pressure put on him after your passing.

“ good luck dealing with that, diluc.“ the red haired man said to himself before downing a couple bottles of wine.

a thing he never imagined doing alone.

the thing he swore to never put near his mouth

became the one to blame for his death.

diluc layed on the floor of your room, rolling around, knocking over vases and chairs. he couldn’t see straight, he didn’t even know what was going on.

he didn’t notice that a vase fell on his head, he was numb to all feelings. the man was bleeding out, yet he didn’t care.

he died at 4 am, choking on a mix of his saliva, blood, and vomit. thinking about the one he loved most.

the one he’d hope to see in his dreams again.

it was you.

it was always you.

good luck dealing with that, diluc.

- eden 🎀

fanart credit to witchdetective <3

thank you for your amazing work.

thank you for reading.

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[edenmemes]

skyward sword sentence starters

more to be added !

❝ you promised to meet me before it starts, remember? ❞ ❝ you seem pretty...relaxed about the whole thing. ❞ ❝ is something wrong? what’s the hurry? ❞ ❝ sometimes i just don’t know what’s going on in your head. ❞ ❝ i'm not like you. i fail at everything i try. ❞ ❝ a shrimpy boy like you hardly looks the part of a hero. ❞ ❝ swatting a few monsters will be no trouble for you. ❞ ❝ run and play this time. get in my way again, though, and you’re dead. ❞ ❝ don’t even pretend that was an accident! ❞ ❝ do you doubt these eyes? i look upon your shirt and i see a single thread loose on your sleeve stitching. ❞ ❝ this is no place for one such as you. and yet here you stand. ❞ ❝ i need to vent all this unhealthy anger,     and your agony is such a great stress reliever. ❞ ❝ remember what we discussed. restrain yourself. focus on the task at hand. ❞ ❝ do my words anger you? do my words sting? let them. ❞ ❝ you don’t come by here just to see me, do you? ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? you just made a face like you wanted to say something. ❞ ❝ oh, i get it. you’re trying to weasel out of having to practice. ❞ ❝ i guess it’s not all bad. at least i’m getting paid. ❞ ❝ there’s something i’ve been meaning to talk to you about.... ❞ ❝ would you wake up, straighten up, and grow a backbone already? ❞ ❝ nice try, but you’re not fooling me. ❞ ❝ i...i have to go. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ folks were always cheering me on like it was a parade. but as you know, time passes. ❞ ❝ you keep some very strange company, friend. ❞ ❝ i don’t know if it’s safe yet...i’m going to stay here awhile longer. ❞ ❝ oh no. you’ve done it now! there’s no escaping this one! ❞ ❝ so, what now? are you going to cry? ❞ ❝ i can’t begin to tell you how sorry i am for pulling you into all of this. ❞ ❝ what is wrong with you? just look at what you’ve done! ❞ ❝ what we’ve seen here today defies explanation. ❞ ❝ you put up more of a fight than i would have thought possible out of such a soft person. ❞ ❝ did you really just draw your sword? foolish. ❞ ❝ should you heed the call of destiny,     i don’t know what dangers you may have to face. ❞ ❝ i can’t help being such a coward...i’m really sorry. ❞ ❝ i fear i spent far too long teasing and toying with you. ❞ ❝ you do your people proud. ❞ ❝ how long do we have to live in constant fear? ❞ ❝ i'll just beat you within an inch of your life! ❞ ❝ dawn is drawing near. it has been a long night for the both of us, hasn’t it? ❞ ❝ you were limp and unconscious. i feared the worst. ❞ ❝ what do you think you’re doing sneaking out with that? ❞ ❝ such a beautiful day, but we’re too busy to enjoy it. some things never change. ❞ ❝ i guess you’ll never learn unless you run into trouble one day. ❞ ❝ look at my face. if that’s your idea of a joke, i’m not laughing. ❞ ❝ you appeared to be relishing that snooze, so i declined to wake you. ❞ ❝ huh? oh, uh, nothing. really, i was, uh...talking to myself. ❞ ❝ you’re looking a little pale... ❞ ❝ i imagine you and i will cross paths again. until then, do not lower your guard. ❞ ❝ you certainly are persistent... ❞ ❝ all that may be well intentioned and true, but it doesn’t mean it’s right. ❞ ❝ i’m prepared to pay the price for what i’ve done. ❞ ❝ i had no idea we were fated to carry such a heavy destiny. ❞ ❝ i need your strength to tip the scales in our favor. ❞ ❝ all this training, and no results! ❞ ❝ all i’ve hears so far is a bunch of babbling about destiny,     but that’s a load of garbage. ❞ ❝ when night draws her tenebrous curtain across the sky, i come here. ❞ ❝ what in the world just happened? did you use some kind of magic? ❞ ❝ please, see it through and prove the legends true. ❞ ❝ i was happy just spending my days hanging around with you. i wanted that feeling to last forever. ❞ ❝ you are vital to a mission of great importance. ❞ ❝ the chances of that happening are just about less than zero. ❞ ❝ i hate to break it to you, but today’s the day i bust up this adorable little fantasyland you’re living in. ❞ ❝ this is a war, and the fate of the land hangs in the balance. ❞ ❝ i know you, and you’re no hero. ❞ ❝ you’re messing with me. say it again, i dare you. ❞ ❝ you float through life with your head in the clouds. ❞ ❝ i don’t do charity for wimps. ❞ ❝ what’s this...? what is it that my eyes behold? ❞ ❝ don’t even think about it! are we clear? ❞ ❝ the point is your work here is done. i got it covered from here. ❞ ❝ my eyes foresee a hazardous, thorny road ahead for you... ❞ ❝ you...this is your fault, you know. ❞ ❝ my heart is bursting with thoughts of you. ❞ ❝ i have a serious dilemma on my mind right now, and you’re distracting me. ❞ ❝ i’ll make you proud. you’ll see! ❞ ❝ feels dangerous. something could jump out at us at any moment. ❞ ❝ we’re talking about a tale that’s been passed down over a lot of years, so i wouldn’t put much stock in it. ❞ ❝ i have the right to experience an unfettered and passionate love, don’t i? ❞ ❝ i’ll tell you, it gives even a big guy like me the creeps. ❞ ❝ oh...how can i get you to notice me? ❞ ❝ i get the feeling nothing i can say will talk you out of it. ❞ ❝ my love for you is wider than the horizon and deeper than the clouds. ❞ ❝ trust my piercing eyes...listen to my pure and innocent voice. ❞ ❝ i feel so excited, so cheerful, so full of life. ❞ ❝ i sense a silent power dwelling somewhere in your frame. ❞ ❝ this turn of events has left me with a strong appetite for bloodshed. ❞ ❝ there’s no doubting it. the gears of fate have begun to turn. ❞ ❝ i'm sorry. i was lost in thought there for a moment. ❞ ❝ don’t men open doors for a lady anymore? how long am i supposed to stand here waiting for a little chivalry? ❞ ❝ i hate even saying this, but i guess you got it all figured out. ❞ ❝ you must not push yourself. you’re still recovering. ❞ ❝ you think you’re pretty suave, don’t you? ❞ ❝ i know you’re in a hurry, so i really appreciate you taking the time to help. ❞ ❝ i saw it, but i was able to escape by the seat of my pants. ❞ ❝ do you have any idea how that made me feel inside? furious! outraged! sick with anger! ❞ ❝ you’re really something else. i could never imagine myself doing what you’re about to do. ❞ ❝ i must aid you in fulfilling the great destiny that is your burden to carry. ❞ ❝ i should have believed you...i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ lately, when i think about you, my head gets all fuzzy, my heart races, i get short of breath, and i feel all dizzy... ❞ ❝ you should know better than that to fret about me. ❞ ❝ thanks for jumping in there to rescue me. ❞ ❝ hey, hold on there! what are you trying to pull all of a sudden? ❞ ❝ your face cries out in earnest wonder, and that cry is: ‘what’s this?!’ ❞ ❝ i promise up front not to murder you. ❞ ❝ you...didn’t hear any of that, did you? there’s no way you heard, right? ❞ ❝ i tell you, all sorts of weird things are going on lately. ❞ ❝ calamitous visions appear before me... ❞ ❝ you...make me so happy...i think i’m going to keel over... ❞ ❝ i wanted you to be the first to see me like this. ❞ ❝ i can’t imagine a more fitting color for you. it’s as though you were born to wear it. ❞ ❝ i bet you can’t even decide what to have for lunch on your own, huh? ❞ ❝ amazing, right? wrong! it is beyond amazing! ❞ ❝ it can’t be easy for you, can it? ❞ ❝ you’ll see in time that you have your own role to play in all this. ❞ ❝ trust in fate to guide your feet. ❞ ❝ i bet you’re here just to check me out, right? ❞ ❝ i just hope nothing has happened. i’m worried sick thinking about it. ❞ ❝ whoa...you’re kind of imploding my mind right now. ❞ ❝ if you wanna live again one day, you should head for home. ❞ ❝ you have a great journey before you, and those clothes...they don’t look up to the task. ❞ ❝ did you manage to get even a wink of sleep last night? ❞ ❝ ever heard of banging your knuckles against the door? it’s called knocking. ❞ ❝ so, uh...yeah. just how long have you been standing there? ❞ ❝ honestly, it’s almost as though you become a completely different person when you worry about me. ❞ ❝ you showing up here must mean we’re connected somehow. like fate. ❞ ❝ sorry to put you through that. i guess i owe you one now. ❞ ❝ to tell you the truth, i’m feeling a little frustrated, and right now i just need someone to vent to. ❞ ❝ what’s with you? leave me alone if you don’t want anything. ❞ ❝ hearing that is such a...huge weight off my mind. ❞ ❝ though your journey will put you in harms way, you must endure. ❞ ❝ i'm just deadweight. what kinda use is that to anyone... ❞ ❝ seriously, what is that thing over there?! ❞ ❝ before i say another word, i feel like i owe you an apology. ❞ ❝ during your long journey, you’ve grown so much. ❞ ❝ from the moment i laid my eyes on you, i could tell you had a gentle and generous heart. ❞ ❝ oh dear...i don’t know what’s come over me all of a sudden... ❞ ❝ you don’t appear to have any serious injuries. for that much we can be grateful. ❞ ❝ i can see into those dopey eyes of yours. ❞ ❝ i can finally smile and laugh again! thank you ever so much. ❞ ❝ i think i might of broke something. ❞ ❝ is that it? i thought it was going to put up more of a fight. ❞ ❝ i thought we were goners this time. sort of glad i was wrong about that. ❞ ❝ what? i don’t seem like my usual self? ❞ ❝ this place needs a name. a name fitting for this rugged, adventurous wilderness. ❞ ❝ what were you thinking? you scared a year off my life! ❞ ❝ care to explain just what you meant by ‘our special moment alone’? ❞ ❝ my advice? work hard and wish with all your heart. ❞ ❝ say, you look all flustered. ❞ ❝ i fear we can’t dwell on our success. ❞ ❝ the world is bursting with undiscovered surprises, isn’t it? ❞ ❝ you're not exactly mr/mrs.perfect either, are you? ❞ ❝ this is easily as scary as i thought it would be. ❞ ❝ i swear this neighborhood’s getting crummier every day. ❞ ❝ you ain’t as dumb as you look. ❞ ❝ i was going to ask if you wanted me to take care of you forever... ❞ ❝ i need to learn how to keep these delirious dreams in check. ❞ ❝ maybe you should forget about everything that happened here tonight. ❞ ❝ can you imagine a more gruesome fate? ❞ ❝ there are more monsters about than before, so be careful. ❞ ❝ human desire is an insatiable, fearsome thing. ❞ ❝ i sense an evil presence on the other side of this door. ❞ ❝ you understand, don’t you? i’m not wrong about this, am i? ❞ ❝ i never wanted to lay eyes on you again. ❞ ❝ i would have gotten discouraged if you hadn’t come by to cheer me on. you gave me motivation. ❞ ❝ who do you think you are, getting involved in my business like that? ❞ ❝ i just wish there was more i could do for you... ❞ ❝ i don’t even understand how you could make such a wild accusation! ❞ ❝ it was at that moment i finally realized. i realized that...i love you. ❞ ❝ make sure you come home every now and then. nothing like a good sleep in your own bed. ❞ ❝ you’d better not keep me waiting. ❞ ❝ make sure you put your heart into it! i won’t stand for anything but your best. ❞ ❝ how could you be swayed by the temptation of material gain?     do you have no honor? ❞ ❝ you really want to hear about all my troubles? that’s kind of you. ❞ ❝ you...weren’t supposed to see that whole spectacle. how embarrassing... ❞ ❝ you have only succeeded in buying us a little more time. ❞ ❝ watch it! that’s no way to talk to someone who just saved your life! ❞ ❝ you look like you need to get something off your chest. ❞ ❝ know that all the questions you have now will be answered in time. ❞ ❝ there is nothing natural about these tremors. ❞ ❝ you might just be the person i need! you seem pretty good with the ladies. ❞ ❝ it’s great to hear you’re so confident in me. ❞ ❝ ideal love is unfettered and passionate. anything less than that can’t really be called love at all. ❞ ❝ you're incessant buzzing around my head like some irksome gadfly when i’m this busy is...making me very disagreeable. ❞ ❝ you may not have noticed, but i’m trying to hide here.     could you please scoot along? ❞ ❝ you'd better keep your eyes to yourself, if you know what i mean. ❞ ❝ have you come to laugh at me in my miserable state? ❞ ❝ you...you came to see me! i’m so happy. ❞ ❝ your job is simple! you make sure none of these monsters lays a claw on me. not...one...claw. ❞ ❝ now is not the time to be picky about who will help you. ❞ ❝ watch carefully while i demonstrate what a real hero looks like. ❞ ❝ you are something else! there is nothing you cannot do. ❞ ❝ if you think about how often we meet, you have to admit that our relationship has gone beyond friendship, you know? ❞ ❝ i’ll make the affair so excruciating, you’ll deafen yourself with the shrill sound of your own screams. ❞ ❝ i was right, then. there is something special about you. ❞ ❝ i should have reprimanded you the last time we met, but instead i was...soft. ❞ ❝ ha-ha! you didn’t see that coming, did you? ❞ ❝ you really are a snake in the grass. ❞ ❝ you are indeed worthy of being called a hero. ❞ ❝ i’m not used to getting stared at like this. it’s making me blush. ❞ ❝ i can’t hide anything from you, can i? ❞ ❝ the longer i train, the more i realize i’ll never measure up to you. ❞ ❝ whoa...you took out every last one of them. ❞ ❝ i know how bad this must look to you right now, but i assure you i mean no harm. ❞ ❝ it’s all very strange, but i doubt there’s much of a connection between these things. ❞ ❝ you're a weird one, climbing all the way up here. ❞ ❝ don’t cry --- it’s perfectly, mostly safe! ❞ ❝ you and i, we’re bound by that thread of fate. destined to fight. ❞ ❝ meet me in battle, and the thread of fate that binds us will be soaked crimson with your blood. ❞ ❝ i do not wish to dwell on what may have happened if you hadn’t been here. ❞ ❝ you have awakened a wrath that will burn for eons! ❞ ❝ you really like those fantasy stories, eh? ❞ ❝ there is one teensy, tiny thing i lack...namely, mercy. ❞ ❝ i must warn you, i won’t go easy on you this time. ❞ ❝ i might be willing to forgive and forget if you’ll strike a deal. ❞ ❝ since i know i can be honest with you, i’ll admit i got a little sulky. it was frowns all around. ❞ ❝ i see you’re still among the living. ❞ ❝ i saw them dragging you off unconscious, so i tailed them. ❞ ❝ i want you to visit me at my house tonight. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to say a word. i can see how you feel by the spark in your eye. ❞ ❝ you’ll see. i’ll be as tough as you in no time. ❞ ❝ it’s not like ‘oh, hey, that person’s back! i’m so happy!’ or anything like that... ❞ ❝ whoa...that’s some really terrible handwriting. ❞ ❝ i would very much like it if you would go out with me. ❞ ❝ truly? you choose me? ❞ ❝ i swear to you, whatever it takes, i will drag you into an eternity of torment. ❞ ❝ you and i, we’re bound by a thread of fate. ❞ ❝ i’ll watch over you, protecting you from afar. ❞ ❝ until then, we’ll keep our love secret. ❞ ❝ this news has just filled my heart with rainbows! ❞ ❝ this place seems strangely familiar... ❞ ❝ don’t you gotta take care of your own business first? ❞ ❝ they’re not going to do anything nice if they catch you. ❞ ❝ it’s not humane to tease someone this bored. ❞ ❝ i’m not some sideshow for you to gawk at. ❞ ❝ it’s weird to say out loud, but that’s just how i feel right now. ❞ ❝ you can’t break me with interrogation. you’ll never make me talk. ❞ ❝ word is there’s a huge treasure hidden in these here ruins... ❞ ❝ what? that’s not weird to say! ❞ ❝ ...i understand your true feelings. better than you know. ❞ ❝ all the fairytales that we heard growing up...they appear all too real. ❞ ❝ do i look sad? no, i’m doing what i want to do! ❞ ❝ i don’t know what came over me! i had no clue i had the talent to make something like this. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t be out here in the open with no way to defend yourself. ❞ ❝ you do have the tendency to cause trouble for those you ‘help’. ❞ ❝ as far as i’m concerned, i got nothing but time. ❞ ❝ don’t you play coy with me. i know that you know, so why not let me in on the fun? ❞ ❝ so you really think a sob story like that is going to work on me? what a joke. ❞ ❝ i’d take pleasure in punishing you, but i have no time for recreation. ❞ ❝ sorry to leave you on your own, but you look like you can handle it. ❞ ❝ remember --- it’s a secret to everybody. ❞ ❝ it isn’t as action packed as what you’re doing, but maybe this is my destiny. ❞ ❝ don’t you just love the way it smells down here? ❞ ❝ defending the land...it’s my purpose, i think. it’s why i’m here. ❞ ❝ what do i know...you might just surprise me. ❞ ❝ fibber! you’re a fibbity fibber! ❞ ❝ you needn’t even say it. i can tell from the look of sheer astonishment on your face. ❞ ❝ you have had this destiny thrust upon you without warning...    or choice, for that matter. ❞ ❝ don’t do anything heroic and get yourself caught. ❞ ❝ ...you want to tell me but you can’t? ❞ ❝ you know, i really worry about you. it’s a weakness of mine. ❞ ❝ try not to get in the way of my shots, ok? ❞ ❝ i haven’t slept a wink in...ahhh...i don’t even know how long. ❞ ❝ i had my suspicions, but until now i wasn’t sure. ❞ ❝ you seem a good deal stronger than the last time we met. ❞ ❝ i would be remiss if i didn’t let you know of the weight on my heart. ❞ ❝ i have a reputation to protect, you know. ❞ ❝ listen closely. do you hear that? ❞

[shootingstarwritings]

Keepin’ it in the Family

Manfred—Freddy for short—was a young man that spent his life in the shadow of his uncle’s side of the family. Meek, shy, unassuming, and more of an indoors type. “I’m more of a type B kind of fellow,” he would answer whenever someone asked him what kind of person he was. Meanwhile, Daniel Crawford and his son, Alex, were the exact opposite. Tall, strong, and always willing to get down and sweaty in an activity. They often dominated every family gathering and gleefully hogged the spotlight shined on them.

“Did you know Alex got a football scholarship… Daniel bought a second house… oh my gawd, li’l Danny got so buff last year, can’t believe he used to be my younger bro…!” On and on Freddy would hear until he got sick of it.

“Why dontcha join a team or somethin’, squirt?” his cousin Alex teased him while roughly messing up his hair. Although Freddy couldn’t deny his cousin was annoying and far too energetic, he couldn’t bring himself to hate him. There was always an authenticity behind his invites to play football with his friends. He was brutish but kind. That was all.

Freddy’s uncle Daniel was a different story.

On a certain day during a family gathering, Daniel concerned Freddy in a hallway. “Perhaps if you applied yourself more," he once told Freddy, the disdain clear in his voice, "you'd get as far as my boy does in life." The rest of the family was just a few rooms away, but their cheerful voices were worlds away. “But until you do that, I want you to stop spending any time with Alex. Honestly don’t know why he wastes his precious youth on someone like you.”

Freddy didn't respond but nodded while glaring defiantly at the floor. He jumped back as his uncle grabbed him by the throat and forcefully tilted his head upwards. Freddy let out a sharp hiss of pain but prevented himself from screaming.

With a low voice, his uncle Daniel said, “Look at me while I’m speaking, you little shit. Don’t want your mediocrity holding my golden son back. Stay away from him or else.” He punctuated his last words by shoving Freddy to the wall. “Can’t believe you and your father are related to us. Well, guess we know who got the better genes in the family.”

Freddy glared at him as he walked away. It was painful, but he could endure. As long as he lived, he would not let this abuse break him. The day would come when he would prove him wrong.

However, it all came to a head about a week ago, when Freddy announced his plans for a graduation party. Most of the replies in the texts he sent out for his family were some variation of, “Oh, I’m sorry Freddy, but your uncle Danny is planning to celebrate his promotion at work that day. Perhaps you can reschedule.” As always, Freddy remained overshadowed.

“Bastards,” Freddy’s father, a rotund and balding man by the name of Benny, exclaimed as he saw the texts. “Can’t even spare a day for you. It’s always those two pricks.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Freddy muttered, glaring down at the texts on his phone. How often had his family ignored him in favor of those two? How often did his uncle mistreat him to guarantee that his ‘golden child’ Alex would remain as successful as he was? The questions kept echoing in his mind until, finally, he decided to cut this cycle.

“If you want,” his father tried again, “we can spend that weekend just the two of us, son. We can travel and celebrate our way."

“It’s all right, dad. I know exactly what I’m gonna do,” said Freddy as he marched off to his room. He would have to draw up the runes and memorize the incantations before long. By being efficient, he would have the spell all set by dawn’s early light.

However, his father stopped him by placing a firm hand on his shoulder���a rarity. “Hold on son," Benny said in a tender voice. "I understand what you're going through, believe me, I know. I was never the golden child of the family either. Danny made sure of that." There was disdain in Benny's voice that Freddy had never heard from before, but he had little time to dwell on it as his father continued. "But, to me, you'll always be the golden child, Freddy. I just want you to know that." Then, Benny pulled his son in for a hug.

Freddy eagerly returned in, shoving his thoughts of revenge to the back of his mind for the moment. Now, he just wanted to spend time with his father. Dusk came and went, and the two bid each other good night as they settled into their rooms on different floors. With nothing to interrupt Freddy, he set off to work.

It began when he found a book of occult rituals and spells in his father's study. Never had Benny spoken about this to Freddy, and Freddy lacked the courage to confront his father about it. Instead, he took photos of the various pages of spells and tried them out for himself—another reason why he did not want his father to know that he knew. By doing this magic in secret, Freddy could indulge in his fantasies that were now just a spell away. Coaches, classmates, and neighbors all fell to his charms and rituals; fulfilling deviant actions according to his whims.

My father can never know, Freddy thought bitterly to himself as he drew the sigils on his rug with chalk, he’ll never know so he’ll always be proud of me, his pure and hard-working son.

Tonight would be the first time Freddy would attempt the possession spell as well as the first time he broke a rule he had set for himself when he first began to use magic: never involve a family member. Now, he read through the procedure on his phone and prepared to sink into an even deeper level of deviancy. A bit of the text at the bottom of the page was faded, but the instructions were all written out. It’s most likely flavor text, Freddy thought.

This spell would allow the invoker to project his soul towards an unassuming target. From then on, a battle of wills would begin, and the dominant soul would take over the body. The invoker is not guaranteed to be successful. Caution must be exercised, and a strong will is heavily recommended.

It was a frightening thought, but Freddy did not allow that to slow him down. His hands trembled with excitement and his heart raced with pure adrenaline as he pictured his uncle’s sexy yet punchable face.

In the heat of the moment, Freddy cast the spell alongside the rising sun. Once those accursed words left his lips, a sharp and painful sensation spread throughout his body. It was as if his soul was being stretched and twisted, like a rubber band. However, he just gritted his teeth and endured it as he always did. The suffering of a spell or his uncle’s harassment was all the same—nothing he couldn’t handle. However, when the pain continued to grow in magnitude, Freddy was afraid this spell was going to rip his soul in half.

Then came the release—the catharsis. The spell catapulted Freddy’s soul at a speed rivaling that of a bullet train’s. Freddy screamed both in terror and sheer jubilation as his soul traveled through the dawn-dyed sky. Everything, even the sun, was a blurry mess until he arrived at his uncle’s expensive house, where he finally stopped. He was back in control.

Slowly, Freddy glided through the halls of a home that alienated him for most of his life. While searching for his uncle’s room, he stumbled upon his cousin Alex sleeping on top of the covers, clad in just a pair of boxer briefs. Though Freddy intended to keep moving, he remained still and watched his cousin’s chest slowly rise and fall as he slept peacefully.

“You deserve a better father,” Freddy whispered, caressing his cousin’s cheek with his ghostly hand. His voice and touch were nothing more than a chilly breeze on Alex’s bare skin. When Freddy noticed the goosebumps that spread down his cousin’s arms, he drew back and excused himself from the room. His target still needed to be punished.

A few hallways later, Freddy found himself floating above his uncle. Daniel, just like his son, slept above his covers and nearly in the nude to deal with the brutal summer heat. Even so, beads of sweat still glistened in his half-naked, furry body. His breathing was just as peaceful and gentle as Alex's as it passed through his heart-shaped lips. "If only you were as kind as you look while sleeping," Freddy said as he glared down at Daniel. Hatred and lust pushed him forward, and he gleefully enacted his plan.

Having spent quite a long time manipulating the wills of men, Freddy knew that the best way to overwhelm them was to do so post-coitus. “You’ll be my ticket to happiness,” he whispered to his uncle, “you piece of shit asshole.” He began by running his tongue down his uncle’s bare chest, giving the nipple a lick.

The effect was immediate. Daniel’s eyes shot open as he shivered at the paranormal touch. He looked around, perplexed. “What the fuck?” he said.

Freddy snickered at his uncle’s confusion. He pushed his uncle back onto the bed, one hand twirling and playing with his nipples while another teased the bulge hidden by the briefs. “W-Woah, oh shit!” said Daniel, trying to kick his invisible assaulter away to no avail. When the sensation didn’t stop, Daniel attempted to rise only for Freddy to roughly shove him back onto the bed again.

“I’m not done with you!” Freddy roared to his uncle’s terror. The rush of power was intoxicating, and Freddy greedily drank in every pathetic whimper and moan from his uncle. He pulled his underwear off, revealing his uncle’s large hard-on, and threw it to the side. “God, you’re thick,” Freddy moaned as he took his uncle’s cock in his hand. “C’mon, cum for me, old man,” he said as his lips played with the pecs. He continued to mercilessly play with his uncle, humping his body to elicit more of his moans.

“N-No—aahh, mmm! Pl-Please stoooAAAAHH—stop!” said Daniel as he felt his core tighten. Freddy noticed it too and quickly released his uncle from his sexual grasp. “AH! Oh fuck, I’m—ngh!” said Daniel as his abused dick begged for release.

“Not yet, that's gonna be my climax, uncle," Freddy said. To reward his uncle was far more than what the bastard deserved. Instead, Freddy would steal his climax, his body, and his dignity. “You’re mine!” he said, caution be damned as he dove into his uncle’s body.

“F-Fred—OOF!” The sheer force of Freddy’s dive caused his uncle to bounce on the mattress. “Oh FUCK!” Daniel cried out as he felt impossibly full. Two souls occupied the same space, and much like the shifting plates of the ever-changing earth, stress was born of this conflict. Daniel gritted his teeth, even more sweat coating his convulsing body as he attempted to hold onto his consciousness. However, Freddy’s essence continued to spread.

The possession spell operated on a similar concept as ink falling upon a cup of pure water. Slowly, the water would darken as it took on the shade of the ink until it was almost completely indistinguishable from the original ink that tinted—or tainted—it.

Just as the ink colored the water, so too did Freddy’s soul spill and tint his uncle’s very essence—mind, body, and spirit. Daniel, of course, continued to push his nephew’s soul out of him. He kicked at his bed and gripped his sheets so tightly his veins were visible in his arms. Until the very last second, he tried to will his body back under his control. However, he eventually collapsed onto his bed, eyes rolling into the back of his head, and blacked out. His body convulsed for a few more minutes as it took on the last remains of Freddy's essence, before finally quieting down.

Freddy opened his new eyes and immediately put his attention back on his uncle's dick. "Oh god, uncle, you're so sensitive!" he said as he continued stroking himself. “I-I’m CUMMING!” he bellowed as he shot load after load in his new form, seeing white as he fell back onto the sweat-covered sheets. “Oh my god, Danny-boy, I can’t wait to wreck you today.” Freddy would seize the day, and by nightfall, he would make his uncle a shame upon his family.

A few hallways away, Alex had his own visitor.

“S-Stop, uncle!” Alex screamed as the much larger soul of Benny finished entering his younger body. “Y-You can’t—AH! AAAHHH!” He whimpered and moaned just as his father did before collapsing into a mess of convulsing limbs.

Alex blacked out, and his uncle Benny awoke. “God, that felt good,” he said, stretching his new, muscular body. It was pleasurably sore after the workout he gave his unwilling nephew. “Ya got a good lookin’ bod, kid,” he said, grinning as he rubbed his hands down his new form. “But it’s my turn to be the golden child, if only for a day,” he finished, excited to have his hole filled in a day filled with debauchery.

Unbeknownst to father and son, there was more to the spell lost as the ink faded from the page. It read as follows:

Just as the water becomes nearly inseparable from the ink, the souls also become unable to be torn apart. There is no hope for the water to become pure and no hope for the ink to be whole. They are bound together for eternity, as are the souls tainted by the invoker. The invoker’s body will perish upon the spell’s completion, and the invoker will remain in their new body until the possession spell is used again, thus killing the old target.

[omiscurls]

Heyhey! I couldn’t find your rules, so idk if this is allowed or not, and if it isn’t feel free to ignore this, but may I request Childe with a reader who has depression? Thank you

tough

a/n: hi!! sorry for that, the rules are added by now, i chose not to describe depression itself, because it looks different on everyone, and you may not relate to what applies to me, but i'm hoping you'll find this enjoyable instead!!

plot: character helping the reader out of a breakdown, or a bad headspace

contains: tartaglia, kaeya

warnings: bad copying mechanisms, low mental place, nothing too serious mentioned

tartaglia

now, he's a man of action less than words, even though he's good with those, too

and to add to that, he's also a very perceptive person - if some negative vibe lingers on you for too long, he'll notice right away

however, relying on his experience, he opts to give you space to figure it out on your own, first, he wouldn't like to be making a huge deal of something that was just a worse couple of days

it's when you don't show up at your usual dinner spot, that he gets a little tingle in his brain, telling him to not dismiss it this time.

and so, he makes his way over to your place.

"ya there?" you hear on the other side of the door, followed by urgent knocking, sort of breaking you out of a trance, but you can't find it in you to go and answer it. he'll go away, you think, even better. your apartment is messy, you're messy, too, and it's not the right time to be receiving visitors. so you stay quiet.

"you do know i know you're in there, right?" he speaks up again "the blinds would be down if you weren't"

come in, you want to shout, and although no voice leaves your throat, soon the door opens anyway.

"hey, what's up, you weren't on the- oh." he stops in his tracks in the middle of the corridor, and you're already mentally prepared to a snarky remark about your sorroundings, but the only thing he says is a lighthearted "why're you sitting on the floor?"

the first thing he thinks about is to level with you, so he plops himself down right beside you, and you bet it looks funny - you in yesterday's clothes, in a big, probably smelly, mess, and then a harbinger in full military outfit right beside you.

"i-" you try to say, but your throat seems too dry and worn out, so you opt for a whisper "look at his place"

he indeed does, hinting the small note of desperation in your voice.

"what about it?"

"it's a mess!" you sigh, covering your face with your hands, out of both embarrassment, and fatigue. you take a big breath before continuing "so i wanted to clean it up, i even brought all the... all the things, but it's so much stuff to do, and i'm tired, and- and i don't know!" you choose to stop as not to snap right then and there. "i can't even do my shitty chores right like an adult" you mumble, massaging your temples.

"and is sitting on the floor helping?" he simply asks, and for a second, you're almost mad at him for not being more... cooey and fuss over you a bit more. he sounds cold.

"what are you-"

"really, is it helping?" he repeats "because from how i see it, every little thing would seem bigger if you looked at it from this angle. come on" he nudges you before standing up, and offering a hand to lift you up. you, however, shake your head.

"i really can't deal with it today, childe, i'm sorry"

"just stand up" he pleas, and the second you take his hand, he helps you up in less than a second. when you're on his level again, he sneaks both his arms on the sides of your waist, and sort of sways around a little, before speaking again. "what if, what if we do it little by little? look, we'll start over there" he puts his hand on top of yours, and lifts your arm to point to the full sink along with his. "and that'd be it for today! and then tomorrow... actually, let's not make plans. we'll just pick something tomorrow, and do it then. does the sink sound like a lot to do?" he asks.

"do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to say no" you mutter, earning the heartiest and brightest laughter you've heard in days from him.

"always honest. but come on, i'll help." he rolls you out of his embrace, causing you to feel a sudden wave of cold, it was comfortable back there, you think.

however, as he works through the dishes with you, the pile does seem to lessen, and doesn't rule over your kitchen anymore. every time he hands you a plate to dry, he smiles as wide as he can, and it doesn't seem to bother him at all when you don't smile back.

"remember" he starts again, after a while of comfortable silence. he looks ridiculous, doing the kitchen duties in an outfit designed mostly to look presentable and slay enemies in it, but the look on his face is dead set. "the first lesson you've gotta learn before going off to battle something, is that the best defense is always, always to fight back. and if you don't think you can manage that, well, that's why nobody ever battles alone. it's common sense to have someone watching your back. and as for you, not only are you a great warrior yourself, but you've also got the best second-in-command willing to help you out. don't forget that."

kaeya

as for him, he's also perceptive and empathic, but the difference between him and tartaglia is that he does believe people have the right to figure some things out on their own, he's a firm believer in the magic of secrets

that's probably because he himself doesn't like to share too much about his deeply personal feelings

so he'd obviously see some wave of difficult emotions coming your way, but would he immediately start worrying? probably not

the guy doesn't have healthy copying mechanisms himself, don't think he expects those of others

every other night the two of you meet up at the tavern, kaeya always ordering wine, you asking the bartender for whatever was in store today, but it's never anything alcoholic.

and just like nearly always, you're seated at angel's share, him noticing you're not particularly in the mood for talking, and choosing to entertain you with as many stories of the day that went by as he can remember.

the waiter interrupts him, asking if your minds are already made up regarding the drink. now, kaeya always has you picking first, but since he sees you're still analyzing the card (as if you expected to find anything new), he goes first with a drink he knows charles makes really strong.

to his surprise, when it comes to you, you just mumble "i'll have the same he had"

before the waiter has a chance of writing that down, kaeya tells him that actually, you're gonna need a minute or two more, and to erase the order you've both put in.

as he walks away, the calvary captain's eyes pierce through yours.

"that's a pretty nasty drink you wanted there" he starts, feeling he can't let you handle your mess this time, preparing to dig a little deeper into what's on your mind.

you shrug your shoulders.

"hey" he speaks up a little firmer, hand moving to cover yours, and even though they twitch as to retreat from his grip, you let it be. "tell me what's up."

"nothing's <up>" you accentuate. "can't i even have a drink now?"

"obviously you can" he nods "as long as i know you're trying it just for the taste, and not for the strong kick it's gonna offer, cause that's a dangerous path that only leads to nasty places." concern shines through his gaze, and an encouraging smile is wandering somewhere in his expression, however his lips are still pressed into a tight line, the same he forms when he's either fighting or arguing.

you stay silent for a good long while, before sighing.

"maybe i want the kick. good, or bad, maybe i want to feel... something."

the sentence sounds all too familiar, as he shakes his head and takes your hand, leading you towards the exit.

"what're you-"

"you're obviously not in the right state to be in a bar, of all places" he states almost coldly "so i'm getting you somewhere safer."

the two of you leave the bar, and walk out into the cold of mondstadt's street, covered in the darkness of the night. you walk past him, not leveling up to him, just tagging along to whatever he's going.

it comes as a surprise, that you're neither headed for your apartment, nor his, nor the knights' headquarters. he's guiding you in an unknown direction, until you reach a dead end.

he clims up a small building, offering you a hand and shaking off your confused expressions and questions. "you'll see" he says. the two of you walk from roof to roof, and countless times you tell him it's ridiculous, but then, he jumps onto the city's wall, helping you out with two hands this time, sitting you down right next to him on the stone surface of the wall. it's a little wet from the night's humidity, and cold, and probably dirty too, but the moon shines right at you, and from this perspective, you see thousands of lights in houses, taverns and shops, from the bottom up to the cathedral.

going up from that, a calm and peaceful lake paints the landscape blue on the left, and even from up here, you see a sea of lampgrasses shining through the leaves of wolvendom forest. if you squint, lights are still on in dawn winery, and the path to liyue and all the other lands swirls around near diluc's house. there's so much you can see, even if the night limits your vision.

"i like to come here when i need to gain some perspective over what is happening in my life right now" kaeya speaks really softly and quietly, bordering on a whisper. "it's a beautiful view, even someone as insensitive to art as i am can see that, but other than that... it's huge. and even though it is, it's also alive. every single one of those beings whose lights are dying out as they slowly go to sleep one by one, they're alive. they're not a scenery, they're their own, individual worlds. and they all coexist with each other in such a clever manner, don't you think? they have their differences, they might even hate each other, or wish the worst upon the other's name, but from up here? they fit together like puzzles of one, big picture."

"that's a nice way to put it, for sure" you whisper, looking down onto your knees. his finger pushes your chin slightly to make you face him, and he smiles at you gently, thumb brushing against the skin of your cheek.

"you know, we each have our own worlds, built from scratch from such fragile materials. we have our worlds rise, shine, and crumble before our sights. we look over the ruins of them and think, this is the end of the world. there's nothing more, it's all dust now. but from up here, you see how many other worlds there are - everyone has their own. not everything that is happening in your world is true. you see it from first person's perspective, and therefore the view might be disturbed by many different aspects. you might not see the picture, you just see the broken puzzle fragment that can't fit with the rest, and you're ready to throw away the entire picture, without finishing it. but being here, it reminds me... the world doesn't end on the ruins you see. you can always ask someone to help you build them up again, and of course, you can expect it to fall into pieces once more, but this time, you'll keep in mind, there're-" he stopped, pointing to the city's lights. "so many people to help you raise it up to the clouds."

"your metaphor is really complex" you chuckle, but his face stays still.

"it's not the end of the world if your puzzle piece is broken. and the ruins are not unfixable if you feel too tired to build them up all by yourself. if anything, that's a start." his hand travels up to keep the hair from getting on your face, since the wind blows pretty hard on this height. "what do you say we start your puzzle once more, toghether?"

-

your friendly reminder that you can request things [here]

[gyuluster]

the prince and the jackal | {f}

collab oneshot | fantasy! au | 11.8k words

“Because the prince of the earth can make you fall not only for nature, but the boy who rules over it.”

s u m m a r y : in the Kingdom of Terrae, you, a metalbender, believe in the deforestation to modernise the land. As a member of the Lumberjackals, you thrive on cutting down trees and stealing resources until you get caught by the Crown Prince, Choi Beomgyu, a lover and embodiment of the nature you wish to destroy. However, instead of imprisoning you for your crimes, Beomgyu decides to show you the beauty and wonders of nature, leaving you to doubt your beliefs, your identity, and your very feelings for the certain boy determined to change you for the better.

w a r n i n g s : prince! beomgyu, woodcutter! metalbender! reader, reader hates wildlife and all things nature, beomgyu is sunshine and flowers and everything good, shit ton of wildlife and fantasy stuff, bts kim line are part of the lumberjackals so are evil in this story i am so sorry y’all, beomgyu has a pet squirrel called jisung yes han jisung, kind of enemies to lovers not really but im pretending it is

p l a y l i s t : fairy of shampoo by txt | colours of the wind by judy kuhn | willow by taylor swift

a u t h o r ‘ s  n o t e : yes i am back from the dead to bring this fic hello!! this is a collab with @soobmint​ @juunnies​ @bffsoobin​ @honeyju​ pls do read their parts too they’re so sexc <3 do lemme know what you all think and thank you for reading!!

back to collab masterlist

back to my masterlist

“And this prayer I make,               Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her.”  — William Wordsworth, Tintern Abbey, 1798.

“ONE MORE BLOODY TREE, AND I’LL SCREAM THIS FOREST DOWN!”

You ignored the complaints of your comrades, trekking deeper into the forest. 

The sun was nearly drowned out by the towering shade of the surrounding trees, and there remained a constant buzz of the animals, either scurrying away or chirping in the skies. The cut up logs strapped on your back was a huge burden, and slowed your steps as you trudged onto the muddied pathways, staining your boots.

“_____, how much longer until we go to the markets?” one of the men asked, exhaustion clear in his voice. 

“Just a few more logs, Tae,” one of the woodcutters, Seokjin, answered, casting a side-ways glance at you. 

“But we’ve already got so many!” the former whined, pointing to the goods over their shoulders. “We can make decent money today!”

Unsheathing your sword, you cut away at the vines in your path, masking your sight ahead. It must be here somewhere, you thought, eyes darting sharply to every flower and bush. It has to be.

“Haven’t you fools understood already?” a snarl resonated from the group. Your horse trotted past you as Namjoon, sat on top, brought out his machete, brutally slicing the branches of the towering trees. “The wood we’ve got won’t last us all year!”

His eyes blazed with a certain greed as he looked over you all. “We must find the Tree of Life,” he declared, strolling past you, cutting down the path. “One strip of its bark could bring us a fortune.”

You listened to his statements with raised brows, following in his steps. In truth, none of you had ever seen the Tree of Life. No one in the kingdom had for centuries — it had become something of a myth, a legend passed down from every earthbender to child of its origins, and its significance. You didn’t know the great specifics, but the whole group knew that if they were to obtain even a twig from the great tree, it could grant them millions worth of gold. 

And that was something the Lumberjackals desired more than the wellbeing of an omnipotent tree.

Soon, the search progressed, your group cutting down a few Ebonies for its useful properties, but there was no heavenly legend welcoming you in all its finery. The sun was descending on the horizon, and although Spring was present, you were situated in the part of the forest where the gusts of the Ice Kingdom blew consistently in your direction. The cold was about to descend, and you were far from your home in the Metallum villages. 

Taehyung, the youngest of the Kim brothers, held onto a nearby oak, all strength leaving him. “I don’t know about you, but I am not travelling any further.” He glared daggers at Namjoon, who showed no signs of stopping. “I’m setting camp here, and you can do nothing to stop me.”

Seokjin joined his youngest sibling, collapsing on the patch of grass beside the gathering of flowers as he shrugged off his work of the logs. “I vote a little rest, even if Joon does not understand its meaning.”

The said-man let out a scoff at those words. “You both are just bloody lazy!” He turned to you, eyes pinning you where you stood. “You’ll keep searching with me, right?”

You agreed, but when you saw the fatigue in your leader’s gaze you grabbed the reins from his horse, stepping beside him. “You need sleep, Joon,” you said, concern in your eyes. “I’ll do another search. You three stay here.”

Namjoon held your stare for a moment before swiping his leg over the back of the horse, jumping off. He handed you the reins fully. “Come back after dawn. Us three will take over from you.”

You had a right mind to challenge the amount of time he was making you explore, but you kept your mouth shut, heaving onto the animal. Dumping your logs of wood upon the ground, you dipped your head in farewell to the Kim brothers. “I will see you in the morning, boys.”

Taehyung waving excitedly as he set up camp, Seokjin going straight to bed upon his blankets, and Namjoon’s stare cold yet understanding, you cracked the reins as the horse began to gallop away from the oaklands, and deeper into the forest.

The moon barely lit the way as you delved deeper into the trees, the sounds of nature turning sinister as the owls began to hauntingly hoot, and the wildcats began to purr. You kept your sword close, in your hand as the other steadied your horse. 

You let out a hard sigh as you commenced your searching. Sometimes, only when you were alone, you wished that Namjoon would snap out of his delusions. There was no Tree of Life, no invaluable source of fortune which would challenge the earthbenders and start their industrialisation. In truth, you only wished for a life more than just cutting down wood, but your leader’s promises could be much too enticing. 

Perhaps he was right. Maybe with the metalisation of Regna Terrae the metalbenders would be able to progress. It was not like the Kingdom cared for the likes of you, nor the nature which brought you to existence.

Stupid, damned forest. What good had it ever done you?

Suddenly, you heard the harsh snapping of the twigs which wasn’t from your horse. In an instant you halted, pulling the reins as your eyes darted to every corner of the dark forest. 

Silence.

You furrowed your brows.

The forest cannot be trusted. Even its silences were sinister and misleading.

Slowly, you got off your horse, tying the reins to a nearby tree. “Keep still, Aurum,” you whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

Patting the mane, you turned and followed in the direction of where the sound was heard, every step quiet and cautious. There was little light, you having to rely on your ears alone, and the hands which touched trunk from trunk. In moments like these, you wished you possessed a more useful power than mere metal manipulation — firebending would have been nice, but you supposed that luck had never been in your favour.

Seething, you held onto your sword tighter, sending a little rush of power from your fingers as it sharpened the steel. No one tailing you would survive in your hands.

You then heard a little sigh, and whipped your head to the direction. Gritting your teeth, you rushed to the place of the origins, anger rising. Swiping away the branches in your path, your boots were the only sound among the quiet hush of the forest, along with the slicing of your weapon. Whoever was toying with you will not leave your wrath.

Swiping away the plants, you finally found an opening of grass among the trees. Squinting, your anger surged to find a distant figure standing before you, all masked in shadows from the lack of light within your surroundings. It stood statue-still, matching your deathly quietness. 

But the figure did not seem like it offered death. Nor anything so dangerous as you promised.

“Come out!” you shouted, taking a step forward. “I know you were following me!”

No response. 

“Scared, are you?!” Another hesitant step. “As you should be!”

Still, only silence answered, and the soft crunch of the leaves underneath your boots. You took a deep breath, shining your sword from the moonlight. A scoff emitted from you, nerves disappearing. This should be easy. 

With an aggravated roar, swinging your weapon, you thundered towards the figure. 

You rushed into the moonlight pooling onto the grass, eyes intent with damage as you willed iron-like power from your veins, and into your hands, swirling around the fuller of your sword until it reached its tip, ready to burst onto the figure.

It was then the shadows moved. 

A flick of his hand. A soft glow within the darkness. 

And all of nature followed suit.

You were taken aback as the thousands of vines circulating the surrounding trees unwrapped themselves from their trunks, and snapped towards you in thundering speed. You had no time to take in their stems swirling around your feet, cutting off your run towards this certain figure. A gasp escaping, you were pulled back by the impact, and let out a further scream as you began to fall flat on your face. Then, even more shock reverberated through you as your feet were pulled upwards, shooting your body up until you were suspended from a tree branch, your one foot wrapped tightly in the vines.

Your world all upside down, you shook your head vigorously, feeling the strain of your one leg under complete control of the tree. The thrum of powerful magic of nature resonated through your body, ceasing you from moving your free leg and kicking any potential passerbys. 

Craning your head backwards, you saw with horror that your sword was clattered upon the ground, too far away to reach from the air. Straining your hand towards the grass, you willed your magnetic force, trying to lure your weapon into your hand.

The sword would have ended up in your grasp if another surge of the same natural magic did not break its path, sending it back on the earth.

Enraged, you looked out to the dark, sight distorted. “Gods, just come out already!” you screamed, swinging slightly by your sheer force. “Stop hiding in the damned shadows!”

There was a flutter of little animals coming out from the shadows. “Ha!” you spat, reaching for the dark. “Only sending a few creatures to scare me? You’re going to have to work harder than that!”

When there was another round of silence, you laughed harshly to yourself. “That’s what I thought.”

This time, however, you were not greeted by their usual, quiet answer.

More vines slithered down your frame, pushing your hands together. You gritted your teeth as the gnarly weeds tightened around your wrists, stopping yourself from using your hands.

Glaring daggers at the darkness ahead, you spat at the ground. “Show yourself!” you roared.

Your threats were answered.

Responded in an unimaginable way as the figure stepped into the moonlight.

You could not suppress your reaction.

The most enchanting boy you had ever seen revealed himself from the shadows. You could clearly see him from the light, the soft, child-like features amplified by his undoubted beauty — his mahogany locks curled around his face, cascading over his forehead. His gentle eyes promised great amusement, more so when they landed upon you, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. He was adorned in a fine green gown, few assortments strapped on his belt as leather boots, etched in ink, covered his feet. A crown of flowers and leaves settled in his curls, emitting its own, fantastical glow among the darkness.

The smile curved wider at your widened eyes. “Why so speechless now, my lady?” 

By all the gods. Even his voice sounded like the sweetest honey in all the hives. 

“I have come before you, now,” he continued, deeply amused by your bewilderment. “I have stopped hiding in those damned shadows, as you said.

“Where is your anger?”

Well, that seemed to bring your rage all back.

“It’s still here, you bastard!” you hissed, struggling in the rope-like vines as you tried to swipe your hand across his face. He merely took a step back, completely out of your range.

“Even without a weapon you are a force to be reckoned with,” the mysterious boy voiced out, raising his fingers as magic sparked from the tips. Instantly the vines encircled your arms, pinning them to your sides as the weeds wrapped around you completely. You were like a human-sized caterpillar, cocooned in vines except you would not turn into a butterfly and rush away into the forest. 

This nuisance before you would make sure of that.

A satisfied hum escaped him. “There we go,” he said. “Now you won’t be of any danger.”

“Who even are you?” you demanded, glaring daggers at the sight before you. Terrible shame that the sight was something you wouldn’t mind witnessing for the rest of your life. Even if it was upside down. 

A hint of surprise exposed upon his features. “Oh, this is amusing, indeed.”

He took a step towards you, you catching the faint scent of...flowers and trees and fruit and honey. You couldn’t really figure out a perfect essence — if nature had a scent, then this boy embodied it. “I am surprised you know not of me when you wish to destroy what I own.”

You raised a brow, at eye level with him, despite the loopy image. 

Then, the gears in your head turned, and you were struck hard with the realisation.

When you wish to destroy what I own.

“Oh gods,” you slipped out.

The boy smiled.

No, not just the boy.

The Prince of Regna Terrae — the heir to the Earth Kingdom. 

Choi Beomgyu.

Maybe this explained his otherworldly beauty. Crown princes of the earth kingdoms were known to be blessed by nature, so adorned the finest features known to man. Standing before you now, you cursed yourself for not seeing it before.

And cursed yourself again for cursing at him. Multiple times.

Beomgyu saw your eyes moving a mile a second and spluttered out a soft laugh, raising a finger so you focused on him. “I am glad you have figured out my identity. Now we both know what we are.”

His next words did not possess much hilarity. “I, a prince, and you, a Lumberjackal.”

The declaration had you gulping. There’s no escaping this.

He was not wrong in the slightest — you were a part of the Lumberjackals — a group dedicated to industrialising the Earth Kingdom, and giving it a head start from the other kingdoms who did not possess the natural resources that this land contained. You prided on deforestation, the cutting of wood and, even to a certain extent, the consumption of animals. Although you never participated in the last activity out of pure shame, you knew the Kim brothers certainly did, and enjoyed it to great extent. 

“Do you deny it?”

You tried to look away, but his gaze was a little too intense. Even if it was reversed. “I do not.”

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” he got out, and you could hear the pain in his voice. Could you even blame him? You destroyed what he held so dear.

Still. You were a metalbender. The desire for modernisation is in your very blood.

“I do what I must do, your Highness,” you grit out, struggling in your weedy cocoon. “It is the only way we survive. 

“And I will not stop.”

The boy’s eyes widened a fraction, in pure disbelief. He could not comprehend this — how could one be so against the idea of nature? How could anyone be so resolute in the decimation of what they survived on?

Prince Beomgyu cocked his head, pursing his lips. 

How could one hate a deity he considered so beautiful?

He said so himself. 

“How?”

You blinked. 

The boy continued. “How can you hate nature?”

His question took you by surprise — you did not really know the answer yourself. 

It was not like you despised the earth in all its natural form. Sure, it brought you the air you breathed, the food you ate, and the water you drank. But what else had nature given you?

You soured upon seeing the Prince’s face. You did not possess the powers other Terrae citizens were gifted with. Your branch of magic was hard, unforgiving. Simply a practicality, only useful for finding resources and making weapons.

Where were your subservient vines? Where was your natural greatness?

With this in mind, you mustered up the most brutal expression you could offer to the boy before you. 

“Because nature was not kind to the likes of me. So I shall not be kind to it either.”

This time, the Prince’s eyes widened even further, afraid they would pop right out of their sockets. 

Once again, his mind was in a twist — how had his dearest accomplice, his most cherished friend, been unforgiving to his subjects? He would never consider himself sheltered, but this was something quite unheard of in his kingdom.

“I know you do not believe me, but this is the only explanation I can offer.” You paused, accepting your fate. “Untie me already so you can send me to prison.”

You felt something swirl beneath the boy’s brown eyes, irises sparkling with wonderment. His voice was soft, if not lost within his own thoughts.

“I believe you, jackal,” he said. With a final step towards you, he left little distance between the two of you, eyes at level with yours as you hung from the tree. “But I cannot be satisfied with it.”

Another blink, taken aback by his declaration. “Well...well, what am I supposed to do about it?”

Shocking you further, he curled a little smile upon his lips. “Well,” he started, and as the smile began to widen further, he knew just what to do.

No, he was certainly not satisfied with her accepted hatred.

“We can start by changing that.”

It was your turn for your pupils to dilate. Gods above. This boy seems one chop away from a stump.

“What do you mean?” you demanded, but the boy was already turning on his heel, looking to the surroundings. He fell to his knees, feeling the ground beneath him with his hands. “Your Highness, what are you doing?!”

He did not deem to answer your question, only counter it with his own. “Do you have a horse nearby?”

You looked at him, surprised he figured it out by merely touching the grass. “Yes, but…”

It seemed that he did not need to hear any more, as he brought a hand out, fingers stretching. A tendril of green power burst from his palm, snaking through the dark air beyond your peripheral vision. The Prince was focused on his conjury, and you wondered what in Terrae he was trying to do.

Then, you heard a distant neighing, and found Aurum following the green trail of his magic, eyes glowing slightly.  

You tried to escape the tight cage of the vines. “Gods, what are you doing with my horse?!” you exclaimed. “She hates strangers!”

The magic disappeared, along with the glow in her eyes. You could tell she was confused at her surroundings, about to raise her hind legs at the boy who spelled her. “She’ll kill you!” you warned, bracing yourself to witness the death of a prince.

It was then Beomgyu stepped towards the horse, gaze sparkling with kindness. 

His hand touched Aurum’s face.

With no small amount of shock, you watched as the boy whispered to your horse, stroking her muzzle. You had never seen her be so friendly to any human she’s made contact with — by Terrae, she even deigned to show attitude to you, who had fed and groomed her since she was a mere pony. How was she sweetening up to someone she had just seen?

Maybe she’s still under a spell, you thought with malice, but then a more honest thought came to mind, and it only made you angrier. 

Or perhaps animals can be just as enchanted with him as humans can.

“What are you talking to her for?” you interrupted them, letting out an aggravated groan as the cocoon engulfed you tighter. “You’re sharing words with her as if she’d spread them!”

Beomgyu slid his eyes upward to you. “I was just asking Aurum if she’d like to have an apple.”

“No, I’ll give her one myself—” you tried to say, but then stopped short. “Wait. How do you know her name?”

He looked at you as if you had asked the most ridiculous question. “Because she just told me.”

You stopped struggling in the cocoon. “What did you just say? Aurum told you?”

Hands never ceasing his comforting upon the horse, he raised a quizzical brow. “Pardon me, jackal, but do you mean to tell me that you...you cannot talk to animals?”

Maybe you were not wrong to think the heir of the Earth Kingdom absolutely crazy. 

He gestured to the world around you both. “Can you not sense each and every creature nearby? Can you not hear their heartbeats, in sync to their purrs and murmurs?

“Can you not hear the very trees breathe around you?”

You did not know what to say. Perhaps you did not understand his words, what he really meant by a tree breathing. Was that even possible? You thought it unimaginable. 

So you offered him the only thing that remained in your mind.

“I have never felt these things.”

The hand upon Aurum’s nuzzle paused, unable to accept the statement which you offered him. 

His suspicions were confirmed. Your hatred of nature and all the beings which it birthed had rid you of your powers.

He had seen this before — lost souls who had done grave wrongdoings to the earth, and as a consequence, their very instincts were snatched, right down to the basics. There was no shortage of Lumberjackals in the palace dungeons, and upon closer inspection, he saw that these woodcutters felt no connection to their surroundings. It broke his heart seeing the lack of attachment, the lack of desire for exploration and yearning for their powers, but he knew it could not be helped. 

Whoever crosses nature would not be forgiven.

Still, when he inspected the confused, tired gaze of yours, searching him for any suspected lunacy, he just knew that he could not toss you in another old cell. This plan he had in mind could not occur through rotting in one place for the rest of your life. 

“Worry not then, jackal.” He raised his hand, magic blooming from his palm. “I am going to change that.”

Whispering to your horse, he listened for a soft neigh before heaving atop her back, hissing at the reins and other controls tying her down. You watched with slight fear. “W-wait a minute,” you started, trying to squeeze out of the vines, but with no luck. “You’re not going to just leave me here, are you?”

Patting Aurum’s mane, he voiced out calmly, “I wish with my whole heart, but then my plan will not work.” 

You pursed your lips, watching his eyes sparkle with mischief. “If you were not a prince, I would have cursed you.” 

With a flick of his hand, a rush of magic travelled to your cocoon; you felt yourself turning on your front, hovering you upright as the power gravitated you back on the ground, loosening the vines. 

“Not like that has stopped you before,” he merely countered as he observed you shrug off weeds in slight humiliation. “Now get on. We have somewhere to be.”

He waited a moment, sighing when you would not oblige. “Is something the matter?”

You wanted to say yes — gods, you wanted to scream at him to get off Aurum, leave you alone and let you cut trees in peace, but of course, that would be an impossible route to take. You still had no inkling of why the Prince of your kingdom was having mercy on you, and you would be quite the fool to exploit it foolishly.

With gritted teeth, you kept your complaints behind your tongue as you brought your foot on the stirrup, heaving upwards as you brought your leg to the other side, settling upon the horse. “Now,” Beomgyu began, looking over his shoulder. “There is no need to be shy. You may put your hands around me as the horse goes fast—”

“I shall be completely fine, thank you,” you interrupted him, brows furrowed. What was this prince even doing? You wondered whether he was a fraud. With that power you witnessed, though, you highly doubted it.

And his features. There is no way a commoner could possess such enchanting beauty.

Flustered, you soured even further. 

“Are you ready, jackal?”

You grunted out a yes, which was enough for the boy to command Aurum to start.

The horse, against your expectation, began galloping much faster, and with a yelp you were nearly sent flying out of the seat. Your hands, on instinct, wrapped around Beomgyu’s waist, and when you realised what you had done you cursed yourself for obliging him. 

You could almost hear his grin. “I told you!” he exclaimed over the noise of hooves clattering against the rocky mud. 

If only you could slap the heirs of kingdoms. “Just take me where you have in mind!” you barked back. “I need to be back to Metallum at dawn.”

“That will be just enough!” 

The horse swept past more trees, animals scurrying from your path as the moon lit the dim forest path. You held onto the prince for dear life, refusing to acknowledge the hard surface beneath his silk, his ethereal warmth radiating onto you. 

“Hey, jackal?”

A sigh. “Yes?” 

“Your horse’s name.” A pause. “Aurum.”

You looked to the trees whooshing past your vision. “What of it?”

Beomgyu whispered for the animal to slow down, scanning his surroundings for his destination. “’Gold’. A very ingenious name.” 

He glanced at your irritated face, and smiled. “My mare is called Argenti.”

Your mouth parted at the little revelation.

Argenti. Silver.

Before you could say more on the matter, the boy stopped the horse, cooing at her and praising her for helping him. Swinging his leg over, he jumped off the horse gracefully. He fixed his flower crown before turning to face you, falling rather awkwardly on the grass. 

A small laugh escaping him, you daggered him with your gaze as you stepped beside him, a hand on Aurum. Your stare lingered as he took a circle turn of the surroundings, moon almost winking at him as it journeyed in the blanket of night. After a while, Beomgyu pointed to the tree nearby you, stepping past you to palm its trunk. “Here we go.”

Fingers stretching, magic spluttered as it swirled into the thick expanse of the leaves, nearly covering the sky with their excess. The matter squeezed through, and brought out the hidden vines, tumbling down till they reached the roots. Grabbing onto the plants, the prince turned his head towards you, an offer in his eyes. 

You hated how you understood exactly what he meant. “I am not going up with you,” you retorted. 

“It’s my arms or the dungeon.”

Gulping, you swallowed down your irritation for him. Taking a step towards him, you maintained a safe distance as you made sure he was aware of your distaste. “Just get us up already.” Damn the gods for making him so aggravatingly beautiful, you thought shamelessly as you looked at him. “Your Highness.”

Perhaps he knew, for the little smile was back, wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close. “That’s more like it,” he murmured out before willing his magic into motion. 

Your breathing hitched as you were pulled rapidly upward by the vines, breaking through the surface of the leaves. You closed your eyes, feeling the scraping of the branches against your clothes until you felt yourself still, listening only to the deep breaths of the prince beside you. His hand was still snaked at your side.

“Open your eyes, jackal.”

Somehow, on instinct, you obliged. 

And widened them further.

You were in another world entirely — the branches expanded beyond your vision, intertwining with the others from different trees, so intricately interlinked beneath your feet that they created a floor. Upon this branching surface there was a little room, decorated with every unusual object that one could identify. Beside the bed, interwoven by these branches, you saw an abundance of flowers and leaves, an lamp of glowing fireflies resting in the corner, and a thousand other items which needed further explanation.

Judging by the awe on your face, the boy answered you, heading to the small cabinet where everything was placed. “A collection of gadgets,” he began, using his magic to separate every object. “That I’ve bought or been gifted since my princedom.” He took out a few unrecognisable things and strolled to the wardrobe, made from the same intertwining branches, and opened the doors, rummaging through.

“What are you even looking for?” you asked, but were dutifully ignored as he kept searching. You admired the intricate scenery, the plush excess of leaves beneath your shoes, shielding you and the prince nearby.

You heard him let out a satisfied ah! as he closed the doors shut. He walked over to you, showing you the rather odd object — it was an unusually large ice cube, miniscule snowflakes etched onto its every side as it orbited slowly in Beomgyu’s hand.

Your curious gaze upon the gadget had him into explanation. “A present from the Ice Prince,” he said, admiring the cold gift in his palms. “It provides an infinite water supply, so is incredibly useful for long journeys.”

“Taehyun, is he not called?” You shivered at the thought. “I am shocked to think he is capable of such small kindnesses.”

Beomgyu slid his eyes to yours. “Taehyun is not the man that his subjects have painted him to be.” His irises swirled in an indecipherable emotion. “Sometimes, one cannot judge the character of another simply based on rumour alone. Only with having conversation can one truly have an honest opinion.”

A small part of you wondered if he truly meant that for Taehyun, or to you, another villain in the Earth Kingdom’s millennia-old tale. Whatever it may be, you looked away, wondering when you’d be able to leave the prince’s presence. 

“Right,” you heard him say, pocketing the other unknown object in his breast pocket of his gown. “Let us go on ground once more.”

The boy was about to tug on the vines again when he was interrupted by a most unusual sound. 

Well, not unusual, considering you were situated in a tree house, but the noise was so shrill you instantly looked down to its origin.

Before you was a little squirrel, cheeks puffed as its little hands perched on its sides. Its soft tail moved rapidly behind its body, indicating irritation. 

Its small, black eyes were fixated upon the boy beside you. Letting out yet another squeak, you saw Beomgyu sigh out in exasperation, as if he had just remembered an important matter.

“Oh gods, I do apologise!” He exclaimed, falling to his knees as he held his free hand out, the other holding the hovering ice cube still. “I’m afraid I cannot feed you now, but would you be able to wait?”

The squirrel let out another squeak, and this time the prince flinched. You gawked at the scene — so not only can he command the trees, but he could talk to animals?

What can this boy not do?

“Ji, I am sorry!” Fishing out an acorn from his breast pocket, he offered it before him. “I have one, if it helps! I promise to feed you properly after I am done with a certain task.”

Even so, the animal seemed much unimpressed. It then turned its little head to you, and you could have sworn that its eyes judged your very soul. 

It squeaked some more, and this time Beomgyu widened his eyes, cheeks flushing. “By Mother Nature, no!” He bellowed out, panicked eyes fleeting towards you. “No, I just met her today.”

“Are you talking about me?” You asked, raising a brow. The squirrel then made another sound, one you could not decipher but, judging from the boy’s reaction, could definitely take a wild guess. “By gods, is this creature mocking me?”

You were rewarded with further squeaking, but was instantly silenced by Beomgyu. “Ji, no! I cannot have you being sarcastic tonight. Save your grievances for tomorrow morning!”

And as the prince scooped the squirrel in his hand, he walked over to the bed, settling it on the sheets. “Stay here. I will be back.”

There was sure to be complaints, but the boy kept sending looks of apology as he stepped back to the edge of the exit, tugging on the vines. “Deeply sorry for Jisung’s behaviour,” he said, swirling the cube slowly. “He is grumpier tonight as I have not fed him this evening.”

“A pet squirrel, huh?” You interrogated, looking down to the grass below. “And one you can talk to? Is that how you could communicate with Aurum?”

Nodding, the prince held his arm out. “Are we ready?”

You hurrying my shook your head. “Not again!” You crossed your arms. “I’ll slide down myself. Without your help.”

Shrugging, the boy held on tighter to the vine. “Your wish, jackal,” he said, and jumped down. Perking up, you squatted down to see him descend smoothly down the tree, landing perfectly on the grass. 

Grabbing onto the plant, you looked back to the grumpy pet, stuffing the acorn in his mouth. 

He then stuck his tongue out, and you gasped at the audacity. “Rude!” You shouted, but we’re only answered with shrill squeaking. Ignoring the creature, you took the vine by both hands, and followed suit.

Your descent was much less graceful, landing instead on your backside. You were met with the huffed laughter of the prince, and you forced down the urge to beat him with his stupid flower crown. Or perhaps tie these vines around his neck and strangle him.

No, that would only result in him using his silly magic. Awful, attractive bastard.

“What are we doing now, Highness?” You wondered out loud, rubbing your sore backside. “Do tell me there is some use of your rather odd ice cube.”

Beomgyu, after strolling further into the woods, slowed himself for you to catch up. “There is some use, unfortunately for you.” He waved you over, stepping past the wild bushes in his path. “Follow me, jackal!” he called out to you. 

Grudgingly, you did as he asked, hugging yourself from the cold breeze of the midnight, wondering where in Terrae he was trying to take you. The trees towered over you like intimidating strangers — if the prince spoke true, then you wouldtuly be unwelcome. 

You were surrounded by this coercion until the forest opened up to an open grassland, encircled by the nature which looked down at you. Beomgyu turned to you, bringing out a few seeds from his trouser pockets and standing right in the middle of the circle. 

“There you are,” he said as you stepped beside him. He glanced at the moon, measuring the amount of time he had left. 

“What are you going to do?” you asked him, still clueless regarding the whole situation. Why has he not sent you to the dungeons already?

His eyes travelled to your face. With a half-soft scoff, he held out his hand, the seeds now in perfect view. “It is not what I’m going to do,” he began. “It is what you are going to do.”

The confusion grew within you. “What do you mean?” you tried to clarify. “What am I to do with these seeds?”

Beomgyu’s eyes promised answers. “Bring out your hand, jackal.”

You did as you were told, holding out your hand as he put the seeds in your palm, fingers barely brushing against your skin. He then descended, knees upon the grass as he patted to the space beside you. “Come, sit.”

Pursing your lips in thought, you knelt before the grass, seeds in your enclosed fist as your gaze never strayed from the boy. “Your Highness—”

Magic oozing from his fingers interrupted your demand, slipping into the earth. Slowly, but surely, a small hole was separated by the green matter, dirt being shovelled to create a dip in the grassland. 

Once he ceased his conjuring, he jerked his head towards the new opening. “Place the seeds in the hole,” he instructed. “Gently now! Treat them with the utmost care.”

Grumbling in response, you leaned forward as you gingerly put each seed at the corners of the muddy dip, noticing a small spark with each placement of the grain. It was a bizarre feeling, but assumed it normal in the ways of gardening as you inserted the dirt over them, covering them fully.

You peered at the prince then, who brought out the large ice cube. Turning it rapidly, treacle of water dripped down to the ground, moistening the earth and feeding the seeds of its necessities. Putting the gadget back in his storage belt, he then returned his hand upon the damp mound, closing his eyes in a fixated peace. More magic swirled from his hands, but this time it encircled not only the place where you had placed the seeds, but you, all of you, engulfing you in its otherworldly warmth. 

“Your Highness?” You whispered out, but he was murmuring, murmuring words you could not comprehend, words which felt like you were not meant to hear. His curls were being lifted slightly with the tendrils of his power, but he stayed rooted to his spot, carrying on with what you feared was a grotesque ritual. 

You, too, became still when you felt fingers curl around your hand. 

On instinct you looked at him, eyes widening — you should have expected his hand to radiate some form of heat, considering this boy had such an unusual glow about him, but this…

Despite the soft chaos around the two of you, the touch was oddly comforting. 

His hand, dragging you out of your thoughts, led yours to the place you sowed the little grains of life, and spread apart your fingers till they covered nearly the entire, dug up earth. More matter escaped from his fingers, shooting further warmth upon the back of your hand, and travelling up to your heart. 

“Close your eyes, jackal,” you heard him chant from his cocoon of magic. “I need you to see from within.”

“See what?!” You beseeched, but his fingers held onto you a little tighter, and, as if he commanded your very body, had your eyelids descend shut, cornering you into the chambers of your mind.

See from within.

What could you see?

Darkness. Eternal darkness, and rusted iron, spilled mercury, and all the grim faces of the people who wanted to decimate the very place you knelt in.

I cannot see! You screamed in your mind, because in the whirlwind of his power you felt alone, trapped in your own mind, trying to join in on a ritual which would cursed the likes of you.

But in reality, you were not alone.

No, not when you felt something foreign in your body.

You swore you stopped breathing. 

Your fingers felt squeezed by another, but was ignored because you could see a whole other heartbeat which was not your own.

A familiar voice entered your mind.

“Do you see it?”

The prince’s voice; the soft, almost desperate inquiry, which you could not help but answer. 

“Yes...yes, by Terrae, I do see it.”

And perhaps he said some more, but you were not listening to his words. His speech seemed a little insignificant to the little heartbeat — it was as faint as the scent of departure, delicate as a snowflake, and as real as yourself, the prince, and the neverending forest.

When you tried to lift your hand, Beomgyu’s fingers halted you still. You could not believe that you did not mind it. “Whose...whose is it, your Highness?”

You were positive that he did not hear you with the lack of volume you let slide from your tongue. However, he answered your question, almost feeling the joy radiating from his response.

“The seeds.” 

Shocked, you opened your eyes, and found the Prince of Earth staring at you with an elevated joy. He gestured to observe your creation, and when your eyes fell upon the sliver of a stem which broke through the earth, between the spaces of your fingers, you wondered whether this was all a dream.

You could not help the curse which escaped you. The boy beside you spluttered into laughter, and you turned to see his face radiating with elation. The heartbeat, the one which you thought was under your control, proved you wrong as it skipped its beat along to his laughs.

“Wh-what are you laughing at?” You demanded, but you were unable to execute it with the anger you wish you held for him. He offered you a honeypot of smiles.

“You’ve brought life to the forest, sweet jackal.”

The little plant shivered in response, along with your own hairs at the back of your neck, which stood at his announcement. Its faint heartbeat grew louder, as well as your own in your ears.

“Do you feel it now?” he whispered, leaning ever so close as he looked to the forest around you. “Do you feel the trees breathing in your presence?” 

Unfortunately, although you could sense your plant’s essence, the heartbeats of every tree in the forest were still unheard. You shook your head no, but that did not wipe the grin off his face.

“We have time,” he reassured you. “Just know that Mother Nature has hope for you still.”

He took your hand, putting another upon the back as he brought you a different kind of warmth. “I have hope for you.”

You parted your mouth, unaccustomed to the contact, the kindness...to all that he represented. 

His eyes locked with yours, and although he had spared you the wrath of his palace dungeons, you feared whether you could escape the imprisonment of his gaze. 

There was no doubt in your mind as you let yourself be arrested into his stare — the Prince of the Earth was not going to haunt just a single night.

FRATERNISING WITH THE HEIR OF REGNA TERRAE WOULD BE THE DEATH OF YOU.

Of course, that was not the last time you saw him — you had become something of a personal project to him, a sin which must be reversed. Almost every night after the fateful encounter, you snuck out from the fences of the Metallum villages, barely evading the suspicious eyes of the Kim brothers, and met with him under his treehouse.

You did not know why you endeavoured so ardently in seeing him. It was not like he had become any less irritable with his amused grins and unmatched power, but there was something about him which you could not fend off. 

In a way, he made you believe you were worth more than simple woodcutting, selling oaks in the market, the empty promises of revenge against the Natural Kingdom. 

Somehow, he made you realise that, maybe, you truly were deserving of a more memorable path.

These very thoughts accompanied you as the sun began to set, pulling your hood over your head as you swept past the familiar trees, reining in the urge to greet every woodland creature which scurried past you. The past few weeks, after many misunderstood arguments with the Prince’s pet squirrel, you learned the slight quirks which the animal possessed, his every movement and what it would signify. You had Beomgyu to thank once again, but each time you wished to do so, he would say the same, hair-rising reassurance.

“Fret not, sweet jackal. It is a pleasure to show you the wonders of nature.”

Sweet jackal. The endearment made you so flustered, and that aggravated you to the greatest extent. You had already shared your name with the boy, but he insisted on calling you this name, as if the two of you had already established an intimacy from decades before. 

The very thought had your actual heartbeat racing.

You made sure to completely dismiss this foolery as you found the special opening of the grassland in sight, the glowing figure waving you over. A small smile involuntarily curled at your lips, hurrying closer till you fully saw Prince Beomgyu’s face clearly in the setting sun.

“You have arrived much earlier this evening,” he said in a way of greeting, fixing his flower crown as his squirrel played with the petals. “I would not say I’m displeased.”

On your part, you certainly were not either — he bore more finery than usual, his normal green gown threaded with gold swirls at the hems, small vines tied around his ears as natural jewellery. His hair was sprinkled with petals, a trait Jisung adored as he settled in the nest of his locks. His hands, too, were intertwined with dark vines, swirls wrapped around his fingers like extended rings. 

By the gods, he truly was an exquisite being. 

He noticed your silence, raising a groomed brow. “Is something the matter?” he asked, but when he saw your eyes dart to anywhere but his own, he immediately understood. You just managed to catch a satisfied quirk of his lips before he turned his attention to your plant. 

Following his trail, you brightened up to see your creation in full bloom — bright red poppies, stark against the pool of grass, stood as they swayed to the evening breeze. You knelt down to observe them closer, and felt a peculiar sense of pride at sensing their clear heartbeat harmonising with yours.

“They’re my favourite flower,” the boy said behind you. “I have always adored how they stand out amongst all the others.”

Watching the poppies almost dance in the cool air, you stood upwards once again. “Then why do you not wear them?” you asked out of curiosity.

“Because my parents do not like me wearing them.” He gestured to the flower crown, at risk of being torn up by Jisung. “They say the colour is too harsh.”

He clicked his tongue in irritation. “At least they could have spared me on my birthday.”

You were about to comment on his parents when those words escaped his mouth. Your own mouth parted in surprise. “Your birthday is today?”

The prince mocked being stabbed in the chest, nearly sending the squirrel to the trees. Taking Jisung from his hair, he propped him on his shoulder. “You have truly wounded me, ____!” he whined. “All this time together, and you had no inkling?”

Although he was only jesting, it only embarrassed you further. “I truly am sorry, your Highness!” you apologised, clasping your hands together. “If I had known, I would have made you a present.”

“Oh?” He took a step towards you. His eyes danced in mirth. “And what would you have made me?”

That seemed to rob you of your speech. “Well, um…” you trailed off, searching your now useless mind of any decent idea for a gift, but he waved off your fluster, chuckling.

“It is no problem, dear jackal,” he said, looking at the red flowers once more. “Seeing your poppies in full growth is a gift to me anyway.”

You wished he had not said that; glancing at them now, you could only hear his fascination within the petals. 

There he was again — staining your every entity of his remnants. How much more till he stains your very soul?

Jisung’s irritated squeak brought you back to the forest. You tried not to murder the damned creature as you muttered out, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Beomgyu groaned out. “I shan’t have you calling me that hideous title all the time.” He put a hand to his chest. “Have we not reached first name basis?”

Despite your surprise, you offered him a scoff. “Jackal is not my first name,” you jeered. “And please. You’re the prince of our land. Anyone who catches me being informal with you will surely have my head.”

“I would never let them,” he merely said. “Not before I show you one last part of the forest.”

You quirked a quizzical brow. “I think you’ve shown me half your kingdom by now.”

“But this is...quite different.” 

The boy stepped closer to you, reaching out his hand. You found yourself warming up as he enveloped it with yours, a gesture so small yet so triggering to your nerves. 

“Follow me, ____.”

With the tug of his fingers, you were led out of the grasslands and back into the jungles of Regna Terrae, catching familiar sights of ancient mahoganies and birches, different variations of trees all grouped together.

As the moon began to ascend, your anxiety increased. His hand worked wonders for your skin, but at the back of your mind, you could not shake off the image of the Kim brothers wondering where you had gone so long.

Especially Namjoon. Seokjin and Taehyung may have been much simpler in the brain, but the leader of the trio bore his suspicions of your whereabouts. He always knew you were never enthusiastic of your occupation as a Lumberjackal, so your sudden interest to roam the woodlands for hours into the night certainly had his ears perking. Of course, you always made sure to know that you were going without being followed, but in the end, the three brothers were quite unpredictable. 

You just hoped that whatever the prince had to show you, it would be seen quick enough to leave.

The density of the forest began to increase, and you soon began to doubt whether you had been to this part of the Kingdom before. It was then Beomgyu’s hands flowed with magic, and completely changed the scenery. The ancient trees, trunks as wide and thick as horses began to move apart to make way for him and you, the squirrel holding onto his shoulder tightly as it too squeaked in surprise. Your own eyes widened as each element of nature bent to his will, creating an easier path for his boots to step onto.

It was clearly a sight for admiration. These few weeks you had begun to realise the power of the earth, and how rich and true its roots lay. You felt the faint hum of their essences as you rushed past them, hand still clasped with his, and you dipped your head in thanks to the trees, hoping that one day you would hear them sing welcomes to you.

Slowing down, the group was barred by the curtain of thick vines, hiding you from the world behind. “I have never seen this before,” you wondered out loud, but when Beomgyu let go of your hand, and stepped forward, hands stretched out, your curiosity reigned further.

Jisung quickly scurried from his shoulder, ending up on the muddied path as he watched with black eyes of the phenomenon about to occur. You made to make fun of the squirrel when the prince let out an aggravated moan, hurling your head to his direction.

His heavenly voice chanted in a millennia old language, huge power emitting from his finger tips and swirling to the tumbling vines of the entrance. You could see the sweat beading down his forehead at the sheer effort it took, but he stayed rooted, sending surges of green matter to the cold nature.

Slowly, the curtain began to withdraw. Blinding light cut through, and when the boy let out a roar, pushing the whole family of vines apart you hid your head from the white bursting through. 

There was a deathly silence for a singular moment. 

You heard his ragged breathing, lasting for ten seconds before it turned into relieved, panted chuckling. 

Bringing your hand away from your face, you looked to see beyond the curtain. 

Your very breath was snatched from your lungs. 

Before you was the most enchanting deity of nature you had ever seen in your existence — it was a glowing white tree, trunk as wide as the two of you twice over, etched with milky-coloured wrinkles that contained sparkles of ancient magic. The leaves, much like finely cut diamonds, protruded from every branch which stretched towards every corner the eye could see. The diamonds were infinite, shining from the gentle light of the moon.

Even though you had never seen it before, you knew exactly what it was. 

“The Tree of Life.”

Your gaze dared to break away to see the prince for a second, whose own breathing seemed to have halted. Sensing your stare, he looked back at you, his face half glowing from the deity’s light.

“I...I thought it did not—” you tried to say, but of course you could not when it was right there before you, as if it had been waiting to be found all its life.

“Exist?” He took a step forward. “Every myth is borne from truth after all.”

Indeed it was — you had learned of the Tree of Life when you were a mere girl, listening to fairy tales before being told to sleep. This Tree could not be seen by the common man, and legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk. Evidently, no one could prove this theory, but its mystery had what inspired so many people, metal and earthbenders alike, to find it, for opposing reasons.

You knew why Namjoon wanted to find it — for the amount of gold a singular leaf could bring him. Now, having accused him of believing in fantasies, you almost felt ashamed for having ridiculed his searches. 

“Come.”

You perked up at the Prince’s voice. 

“You must get a closer look.”

Picking up the pace of your feet, you fell into step beside him as the two of you started towards the legend come to life. The closer you approached the more enchanting it looked — the leaves glistened further, as if greeting you with their shine. 

Jisung scurried between you both, his little head never straying from the Tree. It let out an awed squeak, and Beomgyu hummed in agreement. 

“Have you ever seen anything like it?” 

You shook your head, transfixed. “Never,” you responded, feeling the very earth shift beneath your feet.

If nothing else convinced you of the power of nature, then the existence of this deity certainly did.

You stepped past the boy, the grass hushed beneath your feet as you stretched out your hand. When your fingers touched the milky bark your breath shuddered out of you. It was simply unreal. The touch was surprisingly soft, so unlike the normal trees, and with each crack of the bark there was ancient writing inscripted within. With further shock you felt a very distant heartbeat as the fingers ran along the words, faint yet powerful.

By the gods. 

“Where have you been hiding all this time?” you whispered to the Tree, tracing the aged trunk. “Your Highness, is everything about the legend true?”

There was no response — you figured he was still star-struck, and you continued to admire the most beautiful force you had ever seen.

It was not until you heard Jisung’s shrill squeak that you turned around.

You felt your soul leave your body.

Because there he was, the one man you dreaded to see. The one man who held Beomgyu’s unconscious body in his hands as he dropped him upon the grass. You noticed the little dart on the side of his neck, and all the blood in your body was drained. 

Kim Namjoon.

His answering smirk was more a flash of teeth. “Do you believe me now, ____?” 

You backed up against the Tree, eyes darting to the prince. “What did you do to him?” you asked instead, voice void of any emotion.

“That does not matter,” he dismissed. “But of course, it would matter to you now that you’ve attached yourself to him.”

He took a step forward, his ebony machete glinting in the light of the phenomenon behind you. “Stand aside, girl. It is time to make our fortunes.”

On instinct, you stretched a hand out. “I cannot.”

The man was taken aback by your hesitance. “Whatever the gods do you mean?”

Gulping, you tried to steel your will, inhaling slowly. “I cannot let you do it, Namjoon.” Your eyes glanced at the still prince before glaring at the perpetrator. “You won’t get a single branch of the Tree.”

A harsh laugh escaped him, taking a step forward. “Oh, and you’re going to stop me?”

You brought out your own sword — the one which you promised to use on Beomgyu — and raised it toward him. “Do not come any further,” you warned. 

It seemed the man was not not going to compromise.

Not when he swung his machete, well on his way to hack you to pieces. 

You quickly brought your weapon upon you to deflect his aim, sending him forward, and away from the Tree.

He can try and hurt the Tree of Life.

Easily gaining step, Namjoon mustered his power, ebony sharpening from his fingers as he clashed against you, lightening-fast strikes of his machete having you strained. You never doubted the bastard’s swordsmanship — he was skilled enough to be a general in the King’s royal army.

A shame he chose his fighting for a darker purpose. 

You tried to slice the free space of his abdomen, but the man was sharp, quickly dodging as he swerved to the side, another clash of weapons ringing around the forest. 

“You cannot beat me, ____!” He roared, one hit after the other, sending you further back. 

Taking every hit, you stumbled, gaining your step yet staggering once again with his sword. After all, you could not outsmart the master; he was the man who taught you to fight.

Even so, you refused to give up. “I can die trying!” You seethed as he brought his strength down. His weapon, screeching against your own, slowly descended, closer and closer to your neck. 

A harsh groan escaping, you mustered all your strength into sending his machete aside, barely a spare second in your name before you whirled to your left, missing the power blow.

“All this for a bloody tree!” He screeched, thundering towards you. “We would have been rich, you fool!”

Another mighty hit, and you were sent back, averting his strikes with your sword. Because you were so exhausted, your magic would not burst from your hands, adding more power to your weapon. It was your melee strength, nearly all gone, and your nimble feet.

“What is all this for?!” He demanded, slicing at your cloak, cutting through the fabric of your trousers. The clash of weapons continued, faster and faster. “What is worth more than all the riches of the Kingdom?!”

Amidst the brawl, your eyes slipped to the figure before you. Distant, yet instantly recognisable with his eyes closed, and mouth parted, flower crown scattered around his head. Jisung, too, laid injured beside him, watching your fight with fear in his little eyes. 

What is all this for?

You only had one person in mind.

But that was not enough.

No, not when that sliver of a second gave Namjoon enough time to strike you, sending his machete straight into your stomach. 

A shuddered gasp escaped you as the machete entered through — a burst of pain shot through your entire body, echoing the fatality of your situation. Tears stung your eyes as you dropped your sword, looking at your opponent in the eyes.

The Leader of the Lumberjackals showed no mercy as he yanked out his weapon. 

A moan rushed past your lips as you fell to your knees, gripping your blood-gushing stomach. Namjoon gazed down at you with no remorse at all. “Perhaps he was not enough,” he said, cold as metal.

He stepped past you, focusing on the glistening Tree of Life, its white treasures still exalted in the moonlight. Your body, completely spent, could not hold you upright, falling straight into the grass. Straining, you cried out as you stretched your hand out in vain efforts to stop him, but it was simply no use.

You had been defeated.

And now, after witnessing the most perfect element of nature you had ever seen, you were to watch it be decimated.

This is how it ended. You, fumbling for your last breath, your prince nearby and probably dead.

Namjoon raked his eyes over the Tree, grinning wildly. “Oh, you are going to make me the richest man in the Kingdom,” he declared, raising his machete till it hovered just before the bottom of the trunk.

He elevated his voice so you could hear. “Enjoy watching me destroy what you sacrificed yourself for!”

Closing your eyes, you were about to let oblivion take over. 

You awaited the sound of his weapon against the bark.

What you heard was something completely different. 

An explosion filled your ears as white light, even more blinding than the one before, had you squeezing your eyes further shut. You made out the screams of your once leader as it was drowned out by the eruption, and you tried to see what had so suddenly occurred, only to be greeted with more brazen lights. 

What...what was going on?

When the deafening noise quietened, you picked up on the soft crunch of grass, edging closer and closer to you. A compelling force was felt against your dying soul, and you wondered if the Reaper had finally come to take you.

When you felt air-light hands on your abdomen, you did not expect death to be so warm.

Slowly, dragging open your eyes, you prepared yourself to be taken to the afterlife. 

What you saw instead was something else entirely.

Something which made even the Tree of Life as a mediocre enchantment.

Looking over you was not human — not with the glowing, shimmering skin, sparkles and shine radiating off its golden, liquid body. Her eyes were white with the same light you had seen twice this evening, fluid locks of hair flowing all around her. Her lips offered a radiant smile, already bringing some life back into you, and her whole body, although similar to yours, was free of attire, exuding the light of a star. 

Perhaps you truly were dead. 

The being, however, proved you wrong with her words.

“Brave human,” she began, and her velvet voice had you clutching your stomach. “I saw what you did to defend me.”

You tried to open your mouth to tell her that you defended the Tree, but then your eyes dilated at the revelation. 

The legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk.

But this...this god-like creature was not just a mere girl.

“You sacrificed yourself for my Tree,” she stated, voice echoing across the woodlands. “For my forest, my every creation, despite being an enemy of mine in the past.

“You deserve a token of my gratitude.”

Her voice nearly put you to sleep with the way it lulled in the midnight air. You wondered in your tired mind what she could offer you now that you were breathing your last breath.

Then, you felt her hands upon your stomach.

A loud groan escaped your lips as the torn flesh began to stitch on its own accord, courtesy of the magic which poured from the sublime being. Your whole body worked to heal you, reversing the damage done by your once leader, whose whereabouts you had no inkling of. 

The pain, which once tore at every nerve within you, began to fade away, and you opened your eyes further after gaining the strength, fully taking in the earthly spirit which had restored you. 

You parted your mouth, voice parched as you rasped out, “I...Beomgyu…”

A heavenly smile curled at her lips. “The prince is fine, soldier. It would take more than a dart to eliminate the heir of the Earth.”

A relieved breath left your lips. You then looked to the being, putting your hands above hers. “I am not who I was,” you whispered.

Mother Nature smiled down at you, and you knew then and there that perhaps the world is not so cruel after all.

“I know, brave human.”

The luminous creature ascended to her feet, letting go of your hands. She dipped her head in acknowledgment, and turned on her heel. Struggling to your side, you watched as the otherworldly figure stepped up to the Tree of Life, looking at you one last time.

Raising a hand to her chin, she blew some magic towards your way, bathing you in sparkles. With a final beam, she slipped into the tree, enlivening the whole structure till it stood straight once again.

You truly could not believe what you saw.

Feeling the glimmer dancing on your skin, however, you knew this was not a figment of your imagination.

Mother Nature saved you from death.

Truly, utterly, ethereal. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard soft coughing nearby, and you heaved upward at the sound, your strength all present.

Beomgyu.

Upon your feet, you rushed to where he lay, stumbling from the hurrying as you fell to your knees, hands clinging onto his face. Jisung, his injuries healed from the celestial visit, scurried upon his owner’s chest, waiting for him to awaken.

“Beomgyu?” You murmured out, fingers stroking the soft planes of his cheeks. “Beomgyu, damn you, open your eyes!”

Tilting his face till it faced you, you watched as the prince’s eyes fluttered open, tired and wide and absolutely beautiful.

A trembling breath gasped out of you. “What…” he grated out, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. “What just...happened?”

You willed the tears in as you caressed his face. “The legend was true.”

His confused gaze had you continuing. “Beomgyu, I saw the celestial creature when I was dying, and she saved me. It was true, Beomgyu, she healed me with her hands and—”

Your rambling ceased when the boy brought his fingers to your face. Warmth flooded your cheeks, and not because of how hot his hands were.

His smile could have easily beaten Mother Nature’s. 

“You called me Beomgyu.”

He did not let you respond as he brought your face down to his, tilting it slightly as he pressed his lips against yours, enveloping you in a sweet kiss. 

His mouth was warm, just like him, soft and plush, rendering you helpless over him. Your shock was quite prevalent, but you let the affection take over as you kissed him back, hands carding in his curls. He moved against your lips as his fingers stroked down to your jaw, savouring every feathered touch.

When he broke away, his breathing was ragged, cheeks flushed. He saw your own dishevelled gaze and chuckled to himself. 

“I think this might be the best birthday present I have ever received.”

The Prince of Regna Terrae laughed some more when you refused to meet his eyes.

You were about to counter him when you heard another, completely new voice. 

“You both could have done that without me being here.”

Your stare dove to his chest, to the direction of the sound.

Jisung the squirrel glared at you with the entire irritation of the Kingdom. “Oh what? So now you can hear me?!”

A yelp resounded from you. “How are you talking?!” You screeched. “You’re a bloody animal!”

“Oh, thank you so very much for stating the blatantly obvious!” He drawled, and you could not comprehend the sarcasm that just came from a bloody woodland creature.

You peered at Beomgyu, who was just as surprised as you were, despite his entertained features. “____,” he started, sitting up straighter. “Does this mean—”

Getting to your feet, you looked around the forest, the Tree of Life standing proudly. 

It was then you sensed the heartbeat.

Not just your own, or the poppies — but of the entirety of the Kingdom.

Faraway, yet still present, it thumped against your chest like an echo of your own heart, a harmonisation of all the trees, bushes, flowers and animals. It was almost enchanting how it slowly thudded within you, and with such welcome. 

Like greeting a friend you had not seen for a long time. 

When you caught the Prince’s gaze, his entire face lit up. 

Before you could say anymore, you were swept into the boy’s arms, engulfing you with a hug of eternal warmth. His voice rang along your soul as he declared to the whole word.

“Nature has accepted you, ____!”

You heard the clicked tongue of Jisung beneath you, and Beomgyu brought you at arm’s length before sticking out his tongue at his pet. 

He looked to you once more, and saw the very emotions you dared not let yourself believe in.

“I knew you were capable of change, sweet jackal.”

The tears, this time, refused to be held back any longer. 

The boy melted as he swept away each tumbling drop with his fingers, clutching your face. 

As you leaned in this time, kissing him breathlessly, you tasted the smile which flourished upon his lips, drinking in your every essence. 

You wondered, thinking away as your heart beat faster, whether this was still a dream, a vision which would end the moment you woke up, back in the cold village you once called your home. 

When you felt the presence of the celestial being again, looking down from the branches of the Tree of Life, you knew that this was no delusion.

Pulling away, you turned Beomgyu to the glistening, living structure, both of you catching sight of her.

Mother Nature smiled at her heirs.

The both of you knew it in your hearts, simultaneously beating. 

The heirs of Regna Terrae would not let her down.