#green rain that wasn't seen by anyone alive there before now happens every summer

[reallyghostlypost]

[Fic] The dangers of camping in the valley's forests

You know what Stardew Valley needs? More cryptids and unknown creatures. Also more fics with Jadu and Gill.

Jadu wrapped his cloak tighter around him. He actually liked whenever Camilla was sending him to visit Marlon, listening to him and Gill share stories and gossip around the campfire was always a delight, but he really couldn't get used with the weather in the Valley. Autumn nights here were always bitter cold for him, used with either the desert heat or the dry cold nights of the Badlands, not these humid winds that seem to seep into your bones. He took another gulp of hot mulled wine and looked up at the mountains.

The nature surrounding them was already shrouded in darkness despite the sky still having a greyish orange tint from the setting sun. The vegetation was too thick to see even a foot forward and to someone trained to fight in open terrain of the corrupted desert it felt really claustrophobic. Shadow brutes, or any monster really, could be just a few steps away from him and he wouldn't be any wiser.

Jadu moved closer to the fire, feeling his teeth start to clatter. Really, he wasn't a child any longer to get scared by creepy stories told around the fire. But he couldn't help but feel that the shadows between the trees were unnaturally dark. He realized that Marlon stopped speaking a while ago and that made him tense suddenly. What was happening?

Looking up he noticed both Marlon and Gill staring at the same spot... tree? Jadu tried to see whatever got their attention but there didn't seem to be anything there. A sound then came from the darkness, like a stream of water running over rocks. Were they this close to the river? But listening closer he could also hear whispers, like a group of people were close by speaking silently with each other. Jadu gripped the wand stashed in his robes.

He was started to feel dizzy. This odd noise of water and whispers reminded him when he was training with Camilla by the river. He still didn't know what potion she gave him that time, but it was supposed to help him communicate with the elementals. The river then started to speak with him in a similar way, to call him with whispers hidden beneath the clear sound of running water, awfully familiar, and Jadu knew that he would be able to understand what it was telling him if only he could get a little closer. He could feel his mouth numb, a weird sweet taste on his tongue. He was so close to the water now, only a step forward and he could fall in the river to join the whispers, when a hand shot up to stop him from drowning himself.

Jadu jumped violently pulling the wand from his robes only to point it at Gill. "Sorry lad, but you looked really out of it." Gill apologized before removing his hand from his shoulder. Jadu was still panting trying to figure out what was happening. He could feel sweat on his back despite the cold air surrounding them.

"That owl is back." Marlon said in a tired voice. Jadu looked at the scarred adventurer then back at the same tree Marlon has been watching before, but he still couldn't see anything. Gill patted his shoulder without a word and pointed at a branch higher up in the tree and that's when Jadu noticed it. It was a small white owlet with black spots all over its feathers, small enough that could fit in the palm of his hand, but it was... wrong. Its almond shaped eyes were pitch black, with no pupils or irises, and was that a third eye on its forehead or just another black spot?

As soon as he laid eyes on the small owl his head cleared and most of the cold and dread was gone. Were they caused by the critter? Now that he was less confused Jadu could definitely recognize it as a dark elemental, inhuman spirit birthed from the darkness of the forests covering so much of the southern part of the Ferngill Republic.

The owlet opened its small black beak and the same weird water sounds mixed with whispers came out from it. Jadu could feel his ears getting stuffy, and the same coldness was starting to encroach him again. Marlon picked a rock and threw it at the bird who flew off with a horrible scream, like dozens of bats screeching at the same time. Just as it disappeared into the brown dry foliage Jadu noticed that it had a second identical face on the back of its head, it's second pair of eyes staring straight at him, making the hair at the back of his head stand up.

"Don't worry." Marlon reassured him as he poured more hot wine in his mug and urging him to drink. The heat of the wine felt good. "You'll get used with its magic soon enough and it won't affect you this badly."

"It hid into a crack of our roof for a while and we couldn't understand why we kept having nightmares or hallucinated in the middle of the day." Gill chuckled. "It wasn't pleasant, but the owl seems otherwise harmless. It keeps following us around and tries to get back into that crack before we chase it away, so we got used with it by now."

"More and more spirits like that have started to appear. Magnus has been working overtime trying to keep the dangerous ones from getting close to the town so he doesn't have time to chase away the smaller elementals from mingling with humans. We considered requesting a meeting with Camilla but things are under control for now and we don't want to take more of her time."

"Weird." Jadu managed to say before starting to cough. His throat felt weird and dry which made him scowl. Why was he so affected that small spirit?

Marlon gave him a sympathetic look. "Don't beat yourself up lad. You're trained to deal with desert spirits not forest ones. Spend more time here and you'll recognize their magic before they can charm you."

"Yeah." Gill remarked dryly. "Like we did last week when we started accusing each other of whispering in the middle of the night." Marlon huffed amused at that before taking a sip from his own mug.

"I'll speak with Camilla about this, maybe she can think of some solution without the need of a whole council meeting." Jadu picked a dry fish from the pile of food placed between them. "When did it start to happen?"

Marlon and Gill looked at each other for a second before Gill cleared his throat. "When spring came around and the new farmer moved in the valley."

"Farmer?" Jadu was confused. What did a farmer had to do with spirits and elementals acting weird?

"Oh, kid." Marlon sighted. "You have no idea what a long history that cursed farm has."

[hughiecampbelle]

Wildflowers (Shelby!Reader × Bonnie Gold Oneshot)

Character/s: Bonnie, Aberama mention

Word Count: 1,365

Inspired By: Silver by Nim Nim

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @death-of-a-mermaid @lotsoffandomimagines @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @theshelbyclan

A/N: Another Bonnie fic! Though he's still not a character I write for, I couldn't stop thinking about this plot. This has been sitting in my writers block folder for weeks!!! I really did love my original idea, but I also think what it turned into is pretty good, too :) I haven't been feeling confident at all in my writing, which is part of the reason why I haven't posted a fic lately. I do love some paragraphs, but others I just wanna throw in the trash. It can't stop me from posting it though because I really do wanna get through this block. I'm thinking of doing a part two? Lmk if you'd want that! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

Beneath the clouds, so grey, so sad, sunlight blessed the trees, the leaves dancing in the breeze. Grass, overgrown, free to sway. Birds, bugs, everything seemed so alive, so eager to breathe and shout and let their presence be known. Unapologetically there, in their own skin. Going home, all of them, awaiting the impending storm. Static hung in the air, a heavy curtain, a blanket on your breastbone. Too thick to breath. The wind picking up. Brushing the leaves, the petals and pollen, across the stone pathway, down the dirt road, through the fields of wildflowers. You sat in the heart of it all, the warmth of the bright morning wrapping you in a it's arms, cupping your cheeks, holding all your broken pieces together. The heat in the air tracing your skin, kissing your face, as if it wanted to thaw every bad thing that had ever happened from your bones, stripped of what used to make you so angry. A warm step beneath your feet, your spine arched, in between your palms a mug. Eyelids heavy, wary of the bright outside growing dim, welcoming the day with a soft, cautious hello. Thunder rumbling, warning, threatening, baring it's teeth at the world. Lightning would follow soon, more timid, dancing on its toes, reminding you of the baby of the family, your youngest brother How you missed him. In no time, just as the storm, they would be here, and like the bugs, the babes, the blossom, you would be ready.

Prick and pinch your flesh all you wanted, this was no dream.

A home in the countryside. Tall, lopsided, full of warmth, of love. Standing on its own, reminding you so much of him, of what you were together. Defiant. Stubborn. Strong. Chipped bowls, and baskets of fruit, the sweetest stuffed between sugar and pastry. Patchwork quilts and holes in socks. Timid smiles, light touches, the faint smell of vanilla, lavender, of the bouquet he plucked on his way back. Honeyed kisses, promises of sweet dreams, of perfect mornings. Fireflies like fallen stars, a moon to sweet not to nibble at. A sleepy breeze, urging you to bed. This was your escape. Your hideaway, as far from the city as you could get. A place to yourselves, where time froze. The seasons changed, throwing you into the icy grips of the winter, the sweltering heat of the summer, but you, and him, together the same. Together safe, happy. Free.

It wasn't always like this, though.

Blood splatter. Silver jewelry. Broken bottles. A haze, all of it. The story torn apart and sewed together, limb by limb, coming to you in flashes, in nightmares, waking in a cold sweat. A time of regret, embarassment, of a pain so deep the wound never stopped bleeding. Still hasn't. Covering up a sadness no one cared to see, to acknowledge. A family only in words. Invisible, ignored, wanting to be seen, your screams of help falling on deaf ears. You were an object to them, and the rest of the world. A toy. The city lights bright, blinding, drawing you in on their own dark vices. Blacking out. Drink after drink until you were stumbling, fumbling, forgetting your own name. Falling for strangers. Skin on skin, their hot breath melting your neck, starved kisses up and down your body until you lay beside them, crushed, wanting to scrub yourself clean of this routine. An escape. A search for a home that never belonged to you. Drown out the thoughts, the fears, the misery. Putting your trust into their words. Once a Shelby, always a Shelby. Theirs to carry was also yours. A gun by birthright. A shallow grave you'd fall into too young, but just as guilty. Slip from the covers, one last swig to carry on. They wouldn't see you for days. A bender. Come down slowly, step by step, until you were light enough to face them, face the job, face the body behind the barrel. It was all the same.

This wasn't the life you wanted to live.

You didn't want to live at all if it meant going through the motions.

Calling him. One night, from someone else's phone, their body breathing shallow, steady, wrapped in nothing but grimy sheets. Another handprint on your thigh, another nameless face you'd wonder about. On the edge of the mattress, begging, desperate, scared. A noose like a necklace hanging around your neck. Dainty, delicate, dangerous. You needed someone, anyone. If they answered, it wasn't too late. That's what you told yourself. He wasn't the first number you dialed. Sibling by sibling, your brothers first, then sister. The bar, the shop, even your aunt too busy. You weren't quite sure why he was next, that he was there at all, Aberama giving you it for emergencies. Maybe it was the last number you could remember. Maybe you wanted a second chance, maybe you wanted to live after all. You barely even knew him, or his brown eyed boy. The few times you spoke he was warm, inviting, at times a little akward in a way that made you smile. But he picked up. His voice rusty, raspy, woken too early in the morning. A hint of panic. No call came with happy news at an hour like this. You apologized for waking him, regret pooling in your gut, spilling out into words like the vomit on your chin, but he stopped you, cut you off, not wanting you to hang up. There had to be a reason. So, he listened. A boy with big dreams listened until the sun came up. To the shakes, the sobs, the grief in your voice for the person you lost, the person you wanted so desperately to kill. To finally put an end to.

That was almost a year ago.

The Dark Days. They had a name, a date, a birthday, and a time of death. Those were the months, years, mere seconds, flashes of time you had a hard time remembering, that you wanted so desperately to leave behind. Hazy, drunken, angry. You wanted to hurt yourself more than anyone, and you did. But now, you could move on. He was there when no one else was. At first, as a friend. Then, something more. Someone more. The one to catch you when the floor fell through, when your body lay broken after time and time again hitting rock bottom. You loved Bonnie, and he loved you. It was simple, effortless, the only thing that ever made sense in this big, twisted life. The city too enticing, the bloodline too polluted, there was no way you could have shed your shadow in a place like that. So, you found this place together. Scraped together paychecks, pocket change, selling what you could. Taking solace in the comforts of one another. Making it your own.

Not a drop since.

The thunder clapped, applauding, warning you. Rain pounding on the roof, plopping in deep puddles, watering the wildflowers. A dreary grey tint cast overhead, illuminating the greens of mother nature. Lightning striking, slicing the sky right down the middle. You watched from the kitchen window, Bonnie behind you, his hand grabbing yours. One last second of peace before the storm ripped you apart. Windchimes bawling, crying, begging you to run. Now. The animals quiet, listening, anticipating the threat yet to come. Not the storm, though. But them. A black car drove softly through the mucky waters, mud splashing on the shiny black paint. Closer, closer, stopping short of the lopsided fence either you or Bonnie had yet to finish painting. He always promised he'd get to it one day. Long coats and caps with blades stitched with thread and blood. You hadn't seen any of them since. Leaving without a goodbye, without another word, disappearing in the night with a promise of a home of your own. You weren't sure how they found you, why they came at all. Whatever they said, or did, would never make you change your mind, make you go back.

Not to the Dark Days.

You weren't interested in being a Shelby anymore, you were a Gold now.