#hiding in a bush like fortnight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesovereignsring-if · 1 year ago

Text

She hides it well, but there is a softness in her usually hard topaz gold eyes. There is a wistfulness to her and something else- something more vulnerable and precious.

Wordcount: 2.3k+

It's out! This monster that has consumed my life and every waking thought for the past few days. (T﹏T`) This started out as a funny and simple idea that ran away from me and that's how we got here. Honestly it's kind of spoilery and I honestly don't know if I'm releasing it too early or not, but I don't care!! Take this horrid plot bunny and enjoy it. I'll answer any questions to the best of my abilities without spoilers! It's angsty to me because I've been with these characters from the beginning, but I have no idea how you guys will take it lmaoo.

AO3 Link

Yearning

Nephilim Palace is easy to infiltrate if one knows her deepest secrets- and he knew all of them. The traveler spent a few of his boy years running through Nephilim’s hidden passageways.

He’s dressed in a navy blue uniform with gold tassels, white trousers and brown boots. The standard issue attire for imperial officers. He had swiped the uniform years ago and still manages to fit into them today. Like all things in the empire- nothing changed. So no one had batted an eye when he slipped into the palace and joined the bustling rush of knights, officers and servants. It helps that his figure has not changed much over the years. He takes care of himself.

The empress is in the gardens, which is strange for her. Maeve never had a love or interest in such frivolous things like flowers- well, except for standing next to them to enhance the beauty of the garden with her presence. She is vain in that way. But it was endearing.

Today however, the traveller thinks that is not the case. Today, the gold tiara she typically wears is not sitting on her pretty head.

Maeve is dressed in a simple white blouse and trousers. Her thick blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail,reminiscent of her days as a Shield Maiden. It’s been five years since Maeve Nibel Astrea ascended the throne and during that time, that stylish chair with the fancy cushion had not softened her slender, but toned figure. In her fitting attire, the traveler could admire the hard curve of her biceps, the slope of her thighs- and, of course, her shapely, supple round ass. Yes, she was still every bit the warrior queen she was when they had first met. She takes care of herself too.

She is leaning against a stone pillar draped in a swirling mess of vines with her back facing him. The traveller can tell she is fiddling with something in her hands and is getting frustrated, tapping the toe of her boot against the marble tiles incessantly.

Curious, the traveler leans over her shoulder.

“Aren’t you a bit too old to play with teddy bears?” He says.

“Spite the Herald!” The empress jumps and swerves around to face him, slapping his chest at the sight of him. “Lugh!” Maeve rasps, looking absolutely winded and ravishing. “By the Light of the Alfather- what are you doing here?”

Lugh shrugs his shoulders with a wolfish grin, “I got your missive a fortnight ago and decided to visit.”

Maeve cocks a brow, “aren’t you supposed to be running your own kingdom, Lugh?”

“Is that not what my wives are for?”

“Last I recall, your job is to ensure they don’t kill each other.”

“Well,they do get along when left alone in their own territories,” the king chuckles, “they can play nice for a full moon's turn…I think?”

Maeve juts her hip out crossing her arms, “that sounds very reassuring, Lugh.”

“Humor me, Maeve. I traveled all the way here by boat thinking you’d like a shoulder to lean on. Let’s not think of civil war invoking hypotheticals,” Lugh laughs, guiding the empress away to a nearby bench in the shade. It’s behind a large bush of hydrangeas. Here they can have some time together away from curious eyes.

Lugh pulls out the heavy wooden basket from behind his back, tugging back the lid, revealing an assortment of small fruits, cheese and most importantly Brigian Wines- her favourites.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say this is an occasion worth celebrating,” Maeve says dryly as Lugh hands her a cup of wine. She swirls the glass, raising the rim to her nose so she could smell its sweet and fruity aroma. “I’m not as active as I used to be, Lugh. I’m going to get fat eating all this.”

“Live a little, Maeve. A little cheese isn’t going to kill you. I’ll get you to work it off afterwards.” Lugh chuckles warmly as Maeve rolls her eyes, murmuring something akin to real smooth, Lugh.

Together, the king and empress enjoy the silence of the garden and Lugh’s basket of goodies. At some point, Lugh decides it was time to break the silence. He hums, plucking a grape from the basket and dropping into his mouth. “Murder or natural causes?” He asks.

There is a thoughtful pause before she speaks, “Neither, surprisingly enough. ” Maeve stares grimly off into the distance, “she took it herself.”

Lugh nearly winces as the acidic sweet-sour wine splashes on his tongue. “Shit,” the king swears, turning to his companion, “Ledea had kids, didn’t she?”

Maeve nods mutely, “the youngest one is but a babe. Five years old.” Lugh’s heart sinks. Thea, one of his own babes was five years old as well. She was a precious thing. “And the eldest turned thirteen last fall.”

“The cripple?” The king asks, recalling Prince Vayne's eldest child.

“Yes,” Maeve nods, sipping her wine. “He has a good head on his shoulders- he had everything under control by the time I got there.

Which is impressive for a child. He was running the duchy and taking care of the little one with great ease. He had assistance from his retainers and the middle child, of course, but he was more put together than I expected. I was impressed. The little one was clinging to him the entire time I was there.”

There is a sweet wistfulness to Maeve’s voice, a tone Lugh doesn’t hear much from the usual high and mighty empress.

Lugh’s eyes wander to her thighs, which are supple, but tone with muscle and stare at the flimsy brown teddy bear. Looks like an old thing, a relic from Maeve’s childhood that she must have loved dearly. It’s barely holding together at the seams. The thread looks frayed and ratty, but Lugh can see the glossy shine to the new thread she was attempting to sew in. The stitch work was pitiful at best; uneven and slanted in every direction. Spirits, she was terrible at needle work.

“Is that why you were fixing up that little bear?” Lugh asks kindly, stifling a chuckle with his hand,”are you planning to send it to the babe?”

Maeve shoots him a dirty glare as her cheeks turn pink. She’s so pretty. Then takes the teddy bear and hides it behind her back, away from his line of sight. She squirms in her spot. “I’m not sending Joseph anywhere. He’s going to be a gift. The children are coming to the capital to stay with me.”

Oh, that was a surprise. “All three of them?” Lugh blinks, “and the Duchy is fine with their new lord living so far from home?”

“I’m not going to separate the children after their mother died and I wasn’t very keen on the idea of having them away from family,” Maeve says hotly, furrowing her brows. “Look. I may hate Ledea, but I’m not going to let my blood suffer so far away from me. They’re all wards to the Crown now, so I can do as I please. I’d like to see anyone try to stop me.”

Lugh could relate. His little brood of children stayed with their mothers, but they were never far from his reach, they were, at most, a day's worth of travel from the castle.

But there are more Maeve’s words than just that, Lugh realizes, watching the empress as she sips her wine with flushed cheeks. She hides it well, but there is a softness in her usually hard topaz gold eyes. There is a wistfulness to her and something else- something more vulnerable and precious. A softness he’s only seen under the soft glow of candlelight.

Lugh chuckles to himself, feeling a sharp tug in his gut. He understands what it is. It draws Maeve’s attention, but he says nothing. Instead, he reaches into his basket, pulls out a round pomegranate and cracks it in two, presenting a bountiful cluster of bright red and juicy seeds. The king takes a ruby seed and rolls it between his index finger and thumb before slipping it into his mouth and crushing it against the roof of his mouth with his tongue.

It tastes bittersweet.

Lugh swallows. “You know, I could have given you a babe years ago if that’s what you really wanted.”

“The only babe I’ll ever have would belong to my lord husband,” Maeve says quietly, averting her eyes the moment they met his, but in that brief moment, one no shorter than a breath, Lugh saw a flash of pain behind her golden eyes.

Lugh drags his tongue along the blunt rim of his teeth, revelling in the sour-sweetness of the pomegranate. “Your great Empire would never tolerate their empress being one of many wives to a foreign king,” Lugh shakes head, his lips straining to smile. “Well, you never liked sharing to begin with.”

“I wouldn’t have been your first choice anyway- and more than sharing, I hate being second place,” Maeve says quietly. It stabs him like a hot knife to the chest. He hates hurting her. He’d rather claw his eyes out before any harm comes to her first.

But…he could not deny it. Horrible as it may sound. He loved Giselle, she left an imprint on his heart that no one could usurp, but that did not mean his feelings for Maeve were any less than true. Giselle was gone. Their time together was over. And yet, her ghost still sits between them.

“…Perhaps in another life, where we met and married first, we’d have our own gaggle of children to coddle- but that’s not reality,” Maeve says, throwing her head back and downing her glass of wine in one go. When she finishes she sets the glass aside and plucks a few seeds from Lugh’s pomegranate and tosses them into her mouth.

That’s a surprise, Lugh thought. The pomegranate was for him. Maeve usually had no taste for tart and sour things.

“I don’t know what it means to be a mother,” Maeve says to the sky, rising to her feet with her teddy bear in hand. “Mine died giving birth to me. I have no real frame of reference- but I want…I want to try. Ledea’s little babe…When I first laid on them, I never thought I’d ever feel this way towards someone else in my life. There’s a connection, a pull that I can’t help but feel.” Then she sighs, looking down at the ratty teddy bear. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to replace Ledea as a mother…but if I could be there or look after the children in her place…I think that will be enough.”

“You’ll be a good mother,” Lugh says firmly, setting the fruit aside to stand next to her, cupping her face, flushed and rosy from wine, with his hands. “Even if the children won’t say it to your face, even if they ignore your efforts or appreciate you. I know you, Maeve. That child will know nothing, but love.”

“...You’re not angry with me?” She asks softly. Her gold eyes flickering with a soft, fragile light. Her voice is so small…

It hurts. It hurts so much he feels like drowning. There is nothing Lugh wants more than a child with her gold woven hair and sparkling topaz eyes. A babe with her bright, all consuming smile.. but Lugh’s made his peace. He’ll take whatever she gives him and he’ll accept it gladly because it’s better than not having her at all. That would be death.

“I’ll love any child of yours, Maeve,” he says instead. And that is the truth. “Even if it’s not a babe of my own. I’ll love it. I won’t be able to physically be there every step of the way, but my spirit, my light, will be with you, my love. I mean it.”

Her lips taste bitter, tart and sweet all at once and he doesn’t mind. Such is life. He swallows it all without protest and if he drowns he’d welcome it gladly. There is no place he’d rather be than right here, with her in his arms.

When they part her golden eyes are shimmering with a hint of tears, but her smile is brighter than the sun. Then she laughs, bright and fluttery, then pries his hands from her cheeks. “Your hands are sticky! I’m going to get pimples, Lugh!”

“You’d still be pretty, don’t worry,” Lugh apologies with a small smile on his face as she smacks his arm in protest. He’s glad that she’s happy. It’s all he’d ever wanted for her. Perhaps with the children with her, Maeve will be less lonely in the palace. Nephilim was a lonely place to live alone.

“Come on, let’s go inside and wash up, then maybe you can put me to work like you promised,” Maeve says coyly, tucking the teddy bear away in one hand and reaching for his own hand with the other.

“So soon, Maeve?” Lugh asks, “it’s hardly midday and there’s still so much food to eat. I don’t think there’ll be a lot to work off. ”

“I’ve had my fill. And…I’ve missed you,” Maeve confesses with a bashful, hooded stare.

Ah, well, Lugh is definitely not going to argue against that.

The king takes the empress’s hand, enjoying the way her slender fingers wrap around his own and takes the heavy basket in the other. He likes the way her thick head of hair feels on his shoulder and how her smile lifts his heart.

They leave towards the palace hand in hand. Lugh wonders what the servants and the guards will think when they see him dressed in a simple officer’s uniform. There is no way to hide his identity when he’s next to her. He thinks it’ll be funny.

“Oh! That reminds me,” Maeve pipes up, “the little one’s birthday is coming up in a few moons. If it’s not too much trouble, I was thinking…”

#tsr #The Sovereign’s Ring #the sovereign's ring: Sidestory #side story #twine wip #twine if #interactive fiction #maeve #the empress #Lugh #the king

111 notes · View notes

mimiriko · 2 years ago

Text

𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐒 | 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

tags :: royal!au. princess!reader x knight!nanami. 1k. hurt/comforttt

notes :: i want to expand more on this.. i love this lore

“I’m no good.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Princess—”

“My father said it, I'm no good.”

“Your father can’t decide that,” A hand comes to your arm, stroking. “And it will never be true. Look at me, princess.” It moves to your cheek, lifting your face from your hands and coaxing your eyes up, red and tears spilling.

Warm, his hands feel like a furnace and the gaze he has on you is even warmer. It’s quiet, the sporadic noises of life fluttering in the palace loud when your whimpers aren’t there to fill the air. The arm around your waist retreats momentarily, reaching for his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief— your handkerchief. A cream colour, silk to touch with fine letters of your name embroidered in green. A gift he revealed fortnight’s ago, a tangible token of the hidden love you share. It sated any worries meddling in your heart for it is physical and certain, a barrier from the game of pretend you played around others.

The memory surfaces, and a fraction of your anguish disappears as you let Nanami wipe your tears. Tears that glittered across your waterline and blurred your vision through court, tears that sprung to life when your father belittled you in front of an audience. It’s tough love, you tell yourself regularly. He only wants nothing but the best for you as the future queen, as his successor.

But you yearn. For the smile, he adorned upon seeing you—his posture made of steel but his smile always gentle, his tone soft and his eyes kind. Strict in upholding your preparations as queen, monitoring your studies and arranging activities, but not a day passed where a laugh wasn’t shared, your cheek not kissed and meals eaten apart.

It’s different now.

And Nanami knows.

After his duties as a knight come to an end, when the moon casts the palace in her white glow, he fulfils the role as your lover. Slips past the doors of your room he guards, close enough to you and the coldness in him thaws. Adoring you donned in your nightwear, entirely domestic and a glimpse of the future he dreams of. All decorum leaves his mind with one feathery touch on his jaw, no less than a minute spared in curling up beneath the plush duvet with you tight in his hold. Keeping you safe in ways he cannot show in public, a method you vehemently favour instead of him three steps behind clad in armor.

The comfort he brings to you at night is the same case now. Tucked behind a lush garden, manicured bushes obscuring you from sight as the burden of your title threatens to knock you down, cut your heels until you can no longer walk. He pays attention to the hitch of your breath, the curl of your fingers on your gown. You’re an excellent performer, trained to handle the public eye, but you’ve never figured out how to hide from him.

He’ll stay here until nightfall if he has to if it means to soothe your heart.

A mumble escapes your tired lips. “This is silly of me.”

“Hardly, it makes you human. Your father ought to apologize for the public humiliation.”

(He should do more than that, he thinks. It will take everything in him to face the king again without keeping his mouth closed. He’s not one to let anger cloud his vision, but when it applies to you? His lenses turn red, there’s a stiffness in his stance, his hand aches for his sword and—)

But that doesn’t clear the haze in your mind. Full of your fathers icy irises and the inexorable embarrassment in having Nanami comfort you again. The time spent together in privacy is scarce enough, and most of it is centred to your woes.

You wonder if this is the part where he gets tired, where he comes out of the blinding thrall of love. He’ll soon notice the repercussions of being with you, a forbidden love with a blurry future. A king, your father, who will support a marriage with a faceless prince, but not with him.

It’s all too much.

As if he read your thoughts, Nanami gently says, “We can stay here as long as you like.” But you shake your head, overcome with a need to appear strong for him, that your father can’t hurt you like this forever, and you will not be a burden to him. You wonder how many times has he done this: wrapping his arms around you and easing the harsh lines in his face. Shedding that awful armor and opening his arms for you to jump in them.

“There’s no need for that,” you smile, wobbly but genuine.

To him though, it’s a familiar push from his affections. Years of friendship and months as lovers, and yet you’re hesitant in sharing your pain. As if he didn’t pin after you for years, staring wistfully from the training grounds at the window of your room or the classes you attend midday. When his admiration for you, the only capable royal in the palace, grew deeper, something that didn’t match his duty. Images of you that kept him awake at home, when ideally he shouldn’t think of his job.

And the crux of his problem is that you weren’t a job to him anymore.

Now, after the turmoil of alien feelings and lingering touches, the tension snapping and love forming, his heart is full of you (and yours is the same). Though almost at muscle memory, the time spent desiring another is too long to let go of some tendencies, you forget that he wishes you to give the weight of the kingdom to him. A consuming hunger to shield you from harm, take away all burdens and leave you blissful. A trait he didn’t learn in knighthood.

You make a fruitless attempt to detangle yourself from him, but he grabs you just as quick. (Perhaps he knows you better than you do. Maybe you aren’t ready to go back to being a princess right now.) A shake of his head and a soft, Rest some more, my love. Let me take care of you, is all you need to admit defeat. Slumping against his chainmail, eyes closing with exhaustion, with only Nanami on your mind.

In his arms you are not a princess of a kingdom, a tool ready to be used, to follow the same ordeal of previous ancestors. You are his princess, and his alone. And you send a wish to the universe to be with him until your dying days.

#🪐#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n

328 notes · View notes

partygcthered · 4 months ago

Note

Glimpses of the past: CHANGED - for Gavin

'CHANGED' for a glimpse into the past that represented a turning point in their life.

Oh no, i made it sad oops

this one was,,,GOOD but it hurt

i've tagged it under everyone's about tag since it relates to all of their story in some way

He was five summers old. He could hear his relatives calling for him, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Papa was gone, and nobody could ever replace him.

Gavin curled in tighter on himself, the scraggly bush providing some cover, but those who knew him would likely still be able to follow his trail. He pressed his forehead to his knees, breath coming in sharp gasps. He wasn't sure how long he lay there in the dirt, moss and twigs pressing into his face. But eventually Garrett found him.

"You should come back. Auntie Gwyn says the baby might be coming early." Gavin cracked his eyes open. His brother was crouching beside him, holding the bush back with one hand.

"Baby's not supposed to be here for a fortnight," he frowned, his voice rough and raspy as he scrubbed at the dried tears on his cheeks. "Isn't that a bad thing?"

Garrett hauled him to his feet, the seven year old's scrawny shoulders set tightly and a grave look on his tear streaked face. "Yeah."

Normally Garrett would have tried to reassure him, and Gavin found he missed it terribly. For him to not even be trying to sugarcoat the situation, things must have been bad indeed. He reached out a sweaty hand and grasped tightly at Garrett's shirt, trailing beside him as they walked back to the house. The closer they got the louder the sounds became, and Gavin cringed into his brother's side. Garrett put his arm around him and drew him close. "Just ignore it," his voice was hollow as he led his younger brother around the group of wailing mourners and back into the house. "I've got him." Garrett raised hsi voice to be heard as the door closed with a creaking thud.

"Oh, thank blessed Mystra!" Auntie Gwyn looked fit to be tied, her hair mussed and her face nearly feral with worry as she descended on them in a bustle of skirts. "Let me see you, are you alright? Don't ever scare me like that again, young man!" She fussed over Gavin, looking at him, turning him this way and that to check for injury. "Gods, Gavin," Gwyn finally yanked him into a tight hug. "I thought I'd have to tell your mother the worst had happened," Gwyn's voice was hoarse with grief. "Promise me you'll not run off again." Gavin clutched her skirts tightly, pressing his face into her chest.

"I'm sorry," his voice cracked, and something deep and primal ached inside of him. "I'm sorry, I just... I didn't know what to do!" He howled, his tiny legs giving way beneath him. He was lucky Auntie Gwyn was a strong woman, or perhaps he was so slight it made no difference. She swept him into her arms and carted him into the bedroom. He kept his face planted tightly in her neck. Gavin didn't want to look at the bed anymore. All he would see was Papa's lifeless face, and Mummy crying like she'd never cried before...

Except....

"Gavin River," the hollow and strained voice brought him instantly out of hiding. His mother was alone in the bed, looking pale and sweaty, one hand on her large belly. "How dare you scare me like that," Morena whispered, a frown on her face. "I couldn't bear it if something...if you...not today of all days..." Gavin was passed from one set of arms to another. He barely looked up when Uncle Fredrick returned with Garrett. He was far too preoccupied with his mother's warm arms around him, the occasional movement from the baby in her belly.

"It's done." Fred's face was staunch despite the redness to his eyes. "He's...they've taken him to burial. Ilmater preserve his soul." He drifted over and put his arm around his wife. "I've paid the mourners. Tomorrow I'll go to the Mystran shrine and leave an offering on his behalf." Garrett scrambled up beside his mother and tucked himself into her other side with a little strangled noise. Morena let out a little huff and leant back against the pillows, her face twisting. "Well, with any luck, you can make two offerings tomorrow," she panted. "One for my husband, and one for my child..."

Gavin was dead asleep when the noise finally woke him. He'd been curled into the cold bed with Garrett, clutching onto his brother for dear life. When he finally woke, he could tell Garrett had barely slept a wink. "The baby," Garrett breathed, a slightly awed smile on his tired face as the high pitched wailing filled the little house. "It's here..." Gavin looked up at him with a little uncertain frown. It was several moments, nearly half an hour before Uncle Fred came to get them. He held the candle high with a relieved grin on his face. "Come on, then, boys. Come and meet your brother. Right little fighter he is, too, despite the odds. Healthy as a horse and twice as loud." The boys scrambled eagerly from the blankets and pelted for the other bedroom.

Morena Dekarios reclined against the fresh bedding with an utterly exhausted smile on her face. In her slightly shaking arms was a little bundle of fabric, making its presence known by bellowing its tiny lungs out. Garrett and Gavin wasted no time in scrambling carefully onto the bed. Gavin peered down at the little red face with uncertaintly. "Wha's his name, then?"

"He's named after Uncle Fred. Morgan Dekarios."

"Well he needs a second name," Garrett was speaking pretty loud now to be heard over the little one's crying.

"Gods, this little one is louder than a gale force storm!" Auntie Gwyn patted Morena on the arm fondly.

"Can we call him Gale, then?" Gavin perked up.

"Morgan Gale," Uncle Fred stood at the foot of the bed and nodded in approval. "A strong name for a strong lad. I think your father would approve."

Gavin patted his mother insistently until she passed him the tiny bundle. The baby had slightly calmed at the activity, and Gavin ran a pudgy finger over his tiny cheek. "Hi, Morgan. I'm your brother, and I'm gonna keep you safe forever and ever, okay? I promise."

#* ∙ ✰ ◞ 𝙜𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣 ✗ about/visage.#* ∙ ✰ ◞ 𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩 ✗ about/visage.#* ∙ ✰ ◞ 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙖 ✗ about/visage.#* ∙ ✰ ◞ 𝙜𝙖𝙡𝙚 ✗ about/visage.#* ∙ ✰ ◞ 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩? ✗ answered ask.

6 notes · View notes

underswitch-official · 1 year ago

Text

CH2 P1

Everything is very white. As my eyes adjust, Asriel notices a camera hidden in the bushes. I see a path and run down it as fast as I can. I walk around a pretty thick stick, and after a few footsteps, it snaps. A few seconds later, I swear I hear footsteps behind me, and Asriel sees the silhouette of a tall skeleton. I run as fast as I can and reach a really big gate. I freeze in place as I hear more footsteps behind me.

" H u m a n . D o n ' t y o u k n o w h o w t o g r e e t a n e w p a l? T u r n a r o u n d a n d s h a k e m y h a n d . "

I turn around slowly, and there's the silhouette that Asriel saw. They extend their hand in greeting, and I accept it. A whoopee cushion goes off, and the light reveals the skeleton.

"nyeh heh heh, the ol' whoopee cushion in the hand trick. it's always funny," the skeleton says.

I can't contain my laughter for very long, and Asriel moans.

The skeleton has a golden hoodie and grayish brown sweatpants.

"anyway, youre a human, right? that's hilarious. im papyrus, papyrus the skeleton. im supposed to be on watch for humans right now, but… y'know… i don't really care about capturing anybody. now my brother, sans, is a human-hunting FANATIC. hey, actually, i think that's him over there. ive an idea. go through this gate thingy. yeah, go right through. my bro made the bars too wide to stop anyone."

Papyrus ushers me through and leads me to a station of sorts with two snow rocks and a snowmonster.

"quick, behind that conveniently-sized snowmonster," he says. I run behind it, and Asriel says, "*It's a good thing this snowmonster is bigger than you, or else it wouldn't be a very good hiding place."

I nod and watch as a shorter skeleton angrily stomps forth.

"sup, bro?" Papyrus says casually.

"YOU KNOW WHAT 'SUP,' BROTHER! IT'S BEEN OVER A FORTNIGHT, AND YOU STILL HAVEN'T RECALIBRATED. YOUR. PUZZLES! YOU JUST HANG AROUND OUTSIDE YOUR STATION! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING?!?" Sans rants.

"staring at this snowmonster. its really cool. do you wanna look?" Papyrus replies.

"NO!! I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT!!" Sans says as he stomps angrily. "WHAT IF A HUMAN COMES THROUGH HERE!?! I WANT TO BE READY!!! I WILL BE THE ONE, I MUST BE THE ONE! I WILL CAPTURE A HUMAN!"

Sans stops stomping and poses with his hand on his chest. His light blue scarf-cape-thing billows despite there not being any wind. "THEN, I, THE EXCELLENT SANS, WILL GET EVERYTHING I UTTERLY DESERVE! RESPECT… RECOGNITION… I WILL FINALLY BE ABLE TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD! PEOPLE WILL ASK… TO BE MY… 'BUD?' " Sans looks like he's starting to get nervous, or confused, or both, "I WILL BATHE IN A SHOWER OF KISSES EVERY MORNING?"

"hmm…" Papyrus says. "maybe this snowmonster will help you."

"PAPYRUS!!" Sans shouts. "YOU ARE NOT HELPING!! YOU LAZYBONES!! ALL YOU DO IT SIT AND BONEDOGGLE! YOU GET LAZIER AND LAZIER EVERY DAY!!!" He blasts the snowmonster with a laser, and my helmet shatters. I curl up into a ball, and Sans doesn't notice me.

"hey, take it easy. ive gotten a ton of work done today. a skel-ton," Papyrus says. Out of nowhere, a set of drums plays badum tss.

"PAPYRUS!!!"

"come on. youre smiling."

"I'M ALWAYS SMILING! SIGH… WHY DOES SOMEONE AS EXCELLENT AS ME HAVE TO DO SO MUCH JUST TO GET SOME RECOGNITION?"

"wow, sounds like youre really working yourself… down to the bone." Once again, the drums play badum tss.

"UGH!!! I WILL ATTEND TO MY PUZZLES. AS FOR YOUR WORK? PUT A LITTLE MORE… BACKBONE INTO IT!!!! TYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!! … HEH!" Sans leaves and Papyrus says, "you okay, bud?"

I stand up and nod, then go to Papyrus to try and talk to him. Before I can say anything, he says, "you oughta get going. he might come back, and if he does, youll have to sit through more of my hilarious jokes."

I mumble nervously and shuffle closer to Papyrus.

"whats the holdup? look, theres nothin to be afraid of. it's just a dark cavern filled with funny skeletons and horrible monsters," he says with a wink.

I chuckle and start to leave. Just as I'm about to leave this section, Papyrus stops me and says, "actually, hey… hate to bother ya, but can you do me a favor? i was thinking… my brother's been kinda down lately… hes never seen a human before, and seeing you might just make his day. dont worry, hes only dangerous when he isnt trying, and that almost never happens. thanks a million. ill be up ahead." He walks in the wrong direction, but I don't pay attention to that. I go to the next section, and the first thing I see is another orange star. "*Those are called save points," Asriel says.

I touch the save point and the message this time is:

*The convenience of that snowmonster still fills you with Determination.

#underswitch au

0 notes

gerec · 2 years ago

Text

Au-gust 2022

1. Underwater 2. Artist’s Muse 3. Countryside 4. Dinosaurs 5. Teachers -----

6. Fairies

Pairing(s): Cherik Warnings: None

It took quite a bit of luck and persistence for Raven to actually find the Winter Court, its location hidden from outsiders and shifting often at the whim of its enigmatic ruler. If not for her chance encounter with Azazel - one of the most powerful of the dark fey - she might yet be wandering the Feywild with her mission unfinished.

Now, with Azazel as her guide, Raven found herself in the heart of the dark forest, stepping through a copse of prickly bushes towards the large throne beneath the treed canopy. Below the old and gnarled branches sat the King of Air and Darkness, with whom Raven had been sent to seek a much hoped for audience. Robes of crimson he wore, the hue of human blood, and on his head a crown of broken branches and an eye mask that shielded his perilous gaze.

“Raven of the Summer Court; what brings you to my kingdom?” the King asked, and the ringing echo that accompanied his words made it impossible to discern his true voice. “Your King has made his feelings clear that his people would not treat with ours. If not for the entreaty of my trusted Archfey, I would have set the Wild Hunt upon you for trespassing upon our realm.”

The threat was not an idle one, for all knew the capricious nature of the dark fey’s king, and the hunters of monstrous beasts that made up his Wild Hunt. Raven was not easily frightened, though she could not stop a shiver of fear from running down her spine. And yet she raised her head and met the King’s eyes, for there was much more than just her own immortal life at stake.

“Your Majesty,” she said, sweeping into a low bow, “I have travelled far to beseech the Winter Court for aid. The enemy of all fey is amassing at our borders, and only with our combined forces can we hope to drive them away.”

The King laughed, a hard and mirthless chuckle, prompting the rest of his Court to join in with a cacophony of mockery and contempt.

“Your King cast us out from Arborea, judging his own brothers and sisters too bloodthirsty and cruel and undeserving of his blessed realm. And now he has the audacity to implore us for aid? You have spent too many centuries at your brother’s side, Raven, and become just as arrogant and foolish as he.”

“My brother did not send me,” Raven answered, and wondered how the King knew who she was, and her relationship to their ruler. “He…King Charles disappeared a fortnight ago. We believe the enemy has him in their grasp and means to use his magic against us.”

A chill passed suddenly over the Winter Court, and all assembled fell into a great and looming silence. Raven watched as the King pursed his lips, his hands clutching knuckle white at the throne’s massive arm rests. His demeanor suggested genuine concern for her brother’s fate, though his next words were ice cold and callous to hear.

“Then he is dead. He will never bend to another’s will, and would sooner die than allow the enemy to use his Gift.”

“No!” She took a step forward in earnest, and nearly lost an arm to the nightmare shadow with teeth that sprung from its place at the King’s feet. “No,” she said softly, as the shadow continued to growl low, until the King waved and it returned to his side. “We believe—I believe that he still lives. Though only his mate could know for certain through their soul bond, and we have seen neither hide nor hair of him for the past three centuries.”

She thought of Erik then, whom she loved like her own brother, and sorrow threatened to overwhelm her even after all this time gone. If he yet lived, she knew he could lead their forces to victory and bring Charles safely home.

For long moments, the King said nothing, and Raven hoped that he was weighing the need to come together against their people’s age-old enmity. She did not expect him to get up off the throne and step down from the dais, until he stood directly before her in all his intimidating glory.

“You are right, Raven. Though our bond is not as it once was, I can still feel it. Charles lives.”

Then the mask that covered the dark fey’s eyes slithered like tendrils back into his crown, and before Raven stood her long-lost brother-in-law, beloved Consort of the Summer Court’s king.

#gerec writes #au-gust 2022 #cherik #day 6 #fairies #raven darkholme

33 notes · View notes

bitsandbobsofwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Magic is legal, Arthur knows The Truth and Merlin is... shit at explaining things:

Arthur demands a trip to visit the Druids, who are far more qualified than Merlin, so they can explain this whole... destiny thing.

I’ve written a lot of angst and Hurt!Merlin recently, so I just wanted to write something short and sweet and fluffy :)

SO.

Magic has been legalised, Merlin is Court Sorcerer, all the knights are alive and happy, Morgana is good, and the only thing Arthur has to worry about right now is what the hell to do about the rapidly growing crush he has on his BestFriend™.

After the dust had settled, Merlin had tried to sit Arthur down and tell him the whole story; all about Emrys, and the prophecies, and destiny. The King already knew about Merlin’s magic, and roughly how powerful he is, but that’s it.

But Merlin went so long barely mentioning it at all, not even to Gaius or Morgana or Lancelot, that he’s still not entirely sure what to say. Years of hiding and lying and trying desperately not to think about it, mean his brain now blanks when he tries to explain it.

After far too long of Arthur looking on confusedly whilst Merlin rambled on about dragons and coins and mental links and names, The Court Sorcerer gave up, and decided to just not bother.

Arthur, of course, decided that giving up was stupid, and made the executive decision that they would just go to the Druids, and someone who actual knew what they were talking about could explain it thoroughly. Maybe even allow Arthur to read the original prophecies.

Plus, it turned out that Initiating a Golden Age took quite a lot of work, so neither of them had had a chance to leave the city for weeks. They could do with the fresh air. And if Arthur saw it as a good chance to be properly alone with Merlin for more than half a candle mark? No one else needed to know, least of all Merlin.

It was a pleasant journey through the woods. The silences comfortable, and the conversations easy and filled with smiles.

Magic had only been legalised for about a fortnight, and after over twenty years of fear, magic users were still understandably cautious, meaning the closest Druid camp was still a two days ride away.

But that wasn’t a problem. With Merlin now able to use his magic openly, and therefor more able to defend his King, he found he was far less anxious about the trip outside the city than he would’ve been before. And if his good mood bled into the environment around them? Well... it was spring... surely no one would notice the extra flowers and abundance of butterflies?

(Arthur definitely noticed. But Merlin was still... wary, of performing sorcery openly, in fear of scaring the people who had been sucked in by two decades of propaganda and fear-mongering. Meaning Arthur sure as shit wasn’t going to point it out, in case Merlin stopped.)

It was around noon, and the sun was shining down on them when Merlin pulled his horse to a stop. He dismounts effortlessly, and hands a confused Arthur his reins. At Arthur’s raised eyebrow, Merlin sighs and speaks quietly:

“The camp is about two minutes further on but... the change in the law was only recent, and...-”

He bites his lip and looks away, worrying Arthur slightly, before continuing:

“-well, chainmail and red capes still make them a little nervous. I’ve already warned their leader that we’re coming-”

He taps his temple briefly:

“-but I should go ahead and explain properly.”

Arthur nods in understanding, and gives Merlin a comforting smile:

“I completely understand, Merlin. How long do you want me to wait, or will you come back to get me?”

Merlin returns his smile, before saying:

“Just wait ten minutes then follow me, straight down the path. Bring the horses, there’ll be somewhere to tie them there. You shouldn’t run into any trouble this close to a camp, but you do have a track-record so-”

Merlin laughs at Arthur’s indignant expression, but continues before he can interrupt him:

“-if you do, just yell. We won’t be too far away, we’ll hear you.”

Arthur rolls his eyes fondly and shoos Merlin away. The Warlock laughs as he turns and continues down the path on foot. Just before he disappears behind a large bush, he turns around again, a slightly concerned expression on his face:

“I might look a bit... different? But don’t mention it, they’re quite fond of me... uh... dressing the part.”

Arthur huffs out a laugh before saying:

“I’m sure I won’t forget what you look like in ten minutes, Merlin. Go.”

Merlin hums thoughtfully, and turns back around, disappearing into the trees and leaving Arthur to his thoughts.

After a few moments, he removes his cloak, tucking it into a saddlebag. He also, after only a little hesitation, removes his sword, strapping it to his saddle. It was still visible and easily within reach, but not so threateningly on display at his hip.

He was entering these people’s home, after personally wielding the sharp edge of their persecution for almost a decade; the least he could do was make them as comfortable as possible.

He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, not even Merlin, but he had a feeling that this meet was going to end up being about more than the prophecies. Peace had been harboured, magic had been legalised, but like Merlin had pointed out, things were still a little tense. This meeting was a way to show the Druids that Arthur meant it, that his whole heart was behind this change. The he was not his father.

Arthur was a little nervous (not that he’d ever admit that), this was important. Not just to him and the kingdom, but to Merlin personally. He had to get this right. One of the only things that Arthur had managed to get out of Merlin, to do with the whole destiny thing, was that it was finished. It was done.

If Arthur messes this up, not only will it ruin the peace they had been working so hard for... then Merlin might leave. He has no reason to stay after-all, he’s done his job. So Arthur has to get this right, has to impress everyone, now more than ever, because if he fails and the Druids all leave Camelot, then Merlin would leave with them.

And that thought was... unbearable.

He counts down the minutes, getting more and more tense. He tried to distract himself by thinking about what Merlin had said, “dressing the part” what does that even mean?

But it doesn’t work. Soon enough his brain is throwing thought after paranoid thought at him, about all the possible ways Merlin could tell Arthur he hated him, and leave forever and ever.

Arthur rubbed his eyes harshly, muttering to himself about how he really should’ve accepted the “relaxing tea” Gaius had offered him before they left. Other than Merlin, the old physician is the only one who ever seems to know what he needs in the moment, Arthur should definitely learn to listen to him more.

He finally reaches zero in his mental countdown, and sighs before standing from where he’d sat on a fallen log. He’d allowed the horses to wander a bit but they were trained to stay close by, so he has no problem gathering their reins again and leading them slowly down the path Merlin had followed.

All Druid camps were different. Some moved around constantly, some stayed fairly still. Some were huge, acres large with hundreds of people, others were small, only ten people or so. Some were occupied by mostly the sick and elderly, others were full of the young and adventurous, and others were family orientated.

And of course it was rare, according to Gaius, that someone would stay in the same camp their whole life. The Druids were a nomadic people, always shifting, drifting, wandering. Following a constantly tugging thread in their hearts, going where nature beckoned them.

According to Merlin, this specific camp was pretty small (around twenty adults) but it was also a fairly familial group, meaning lots of children. And if that didn’t make Arthur nervous (it definitely did) then nothing would.

Arthur didn’t have much experience with children, and definitely had no concept of how to act around them, especially Druid children.

After about a minute of walking, Arthur could hear loud laughter and quiet conversations floating through the trees. He slowed his pace; trying to appear unthreatening and friendly, or to delay the inevitable, he’s not quite sure.

He finally breaks through the treeline to see that... no one is even looking in his direction.

It was the middle of the day, so the camp was busy, people milling about everywhere, most of the tents open, various jobs getting done throughout the clearing.

But what immediately drew Arthur’s eye, was the source of the laughter.

The King looked across the clearing to see Merlin, in a whole new wardrobe, and a whole new light.

The man had changed from his simple travellers clothes (basically the clothes he’d worn as a manservant, just a bit newer and cleaner.) into a loose, white, lace up shirt (sleeves rolled up, which Arthur absolutely did NOT find himself staring at, thank you very much.) paired with slim black trousers.

But what was most striking, was the deep blue cloak billowing behind him, and the silver crown on his head. It was delicate, as if forged with vines and leaves and feathers, but it was oh so Merlin.

Arthur stayed at the edge of the clearing, glad that no one had noticed him; allowing him to stare in reverence at his best friend.

He was surrounded by young children, all laughing joyously as his eyes glowed golden and he waved his hands around. He needn’t mutter spells as he smiled widely, willing butterflies and bees to manifest in the air around him.

One of the younger children held his arms in the air and made grabbing motions with his hands. Merlin bent over and pulled him up into the air without a moment of hesitation, spinning him around on the spot (much to the kid’s enjoyment, who giggled outrageously), before settling him on his hip.

He used one hand to support the kid’s weight (when did Merlin get so strong??), and used the other to summon flowers around the feet of the rest of the children.

A fond smile spread across Arthur’s face as he saw them run around exuberantly, gathering the flowers in chubby hands to present to parents and siblings and friends.

Arthur laughed softly as he saw Merlin reply enthusiastically to something that the boy on his hip had said, and a second later, the child had a butterfly perched on the end of his nose.

Arthur is broken from his concentration, jumping a foot in the air when a soft hand lands on his shoulder from behind.

He whips his head around, just about managing to stop himself from yelping and reaching for where his sword usually is at his hip.

He calms his breathing as his eyes find the friendly face of a Druid, an amused smile on his face. Arthur returns his smile, a tad shakily, suddenly feeling the nerves again, and nods his head respectfully.

The man keeps his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, but looks towards Merlin in the clearing, before softly saying:

“He’s quite something, your Emrys, isn’t he?”

Arthur gulps, also looking back at Merlin as he replies with a chuckle that was only slightly forced:

“He’s more yours than mine, especially like this, but yes, he is something special.”

The Druid laughs disbelievingly, and Arthur turns to look, a confused expression on his face as he listens to his reply:

“Definitely not. He’s always belonged to you more than he’s belonged to us-”

He stops laughing to look at Arthur, eyes sparkling with friendly mirth as he continues:

“-prophecy or no, he had a... well... a pre-carved place among the Druids, but he still chose to carve his own space by your side. I think that speaks volumes about where he truly belongs, or at least where he wants to belong, don’t you?”

Arthur doesn’t really have a response to that as he stares at the man with barely concealed bafflement, but luckily, before the silence stretches too long, the Druid gestures to the clearing:

“Come. Everyone is excited to meet you, though I warn you, the children in this camp can be rather energetic, as you’ve already seen.”

Arthur gulps and nods, following him into the centre of the camp.

Everyone’s attention is quickly caught by The King’s presence, and someone comes over to wordlessly take the horse’s reins from him.

The adults bow their heads slightly in respect, giving him soft smiles, and the children fidget on the spot, wide grins on their faces as they whisper conspiratorially to each other.

The boy in Merlin’s arms wiggles, and he gets put down. He rushes over to Arthur, grabbing his hand with a toothy grin and dragging him over to Merlin and the other children.

Merlin hides a laugh behind his hand as Arthur’s eyes widen, and his face goes pale. He thought this was going to be meetings and serious discussions and apologies, not playing with children!! What do children even like?! Swords?? Can he talk to them about swords??! Druids are pacifists right? So probably not??

He gets pulled down to crouch, and the children crowd him, all babbling at once, wildly showing him flowers and butterflies.

Merlin laughs at his bewildered fear for a few moments, before he crouches next to Arthur and holds his hands up, saying loudly:

“Alright, alright, you lot. Remember what I said?”

The children still, and a chorus of “Yes Lord Emrys” resounds from the group. With that, they stay silent, but still grin widely and bounce on the spot in excitement.

Arthur gives Merlin a stressed, but grateful smile, before looking back to the children. He takes a deep breath, before smiling at them, and saying:

“My name’s Arthur. Thank you for having me, I appreciate your hospitality.”

Merlin snorts at his overly formal tone, and has to stop himself laughing at the shock and fear on Arthur’s face when one of the younger ones loudly asks:

“What’s hosp-ee-tal-it-ee?”

Arthur furrows his brows, but luckily one of the teenagers steps in, quietly saying:

“It’s when someone comes into your home, and you’re nice to them.”

Arthur smiles and nods, and Merlin chuckles in amusement.

Thankfully (for Arthur) Merlin then stands and announces to the children that it’s lunch time, and to get washed up. They all rush off, and Arthur lets out a breath as he stands.

Merlin holds in yet another laugh, but tilts his head in confusion as Arthur’s gaze is once again drawn to the crown that rests on Merlin’s unruly hair.

Merlin flushes slightly when he realises what Arthur is looking at, looking to the floor and mumbling:

“You have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get them to just call me Merlin, but then they presented me with this a few months ago and I could hardly say no, could I?”

Arthur nods as Merlin looks up again, meeting his gaze. There’s a soft smile on his face, one that Merlin isn’t quite sure what to make of as he quietly replies:

“Hmm. Looks good on you.”

Merlin makes a surprised noise and his eyes go wide, the flush on his cheeks deepening as Arthur laughs gently at him.

Arthur puts his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, his thumb brushing against the skin of his neck in a way that was slightly more than friendly, but Merlin doesn’t pull away, so Arthur leaves his hand there as he looks around the bustling camp.

His smile falls into something more sad, and Merlin frowns at him curiously:

“Arthur? What is it?”

Arthur shakes his head slightly, not looking back at Merlin as he replies, almost whispering:

“Nothing. It’s just, last time I was this far into a Druid camp... I did terrible things. Look at this place, how could I ever have believed that magic was evil? It’s beautiful here.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, but before he can reply, a small hand tugs at Arthur’s sleeve, and the two of them look down suddenly to see one of the boys from before. He wore a confused expression, and whispered, as if he knew this was meant to be a secret conversation:

“What terrible things did you do, Mr King Sir?”

Merlin takes in a quiet gasp and widens his eyes, but before he can tell him off or lie, Arthur squeezes his shoulder, and crouches down in front of the child.

Arthur gives the boy a smile, and takes his hands, quietly saying:

“Well. When I was young, I was taught some things that are wrong, I didn’t question them, and because of that I did some really bad things. I thought I was being a good person, but actually I was being a bad person because I didn’t do my own research, and I didn’t know any better. But then I started learning how to be better, and now I do everything in my power to be an actual good person.-”

Arthur looks up at Merlin with a small smile on his face, before looking back down to the boy, who is hanging on to his every word:

“-Your Emrys is helping me with that. You see, he’s the best person I’ve ever met, and he’s helping me be more like him.”

Arthur resists the urge to look back at Merlin as he feels a firm, but shaky hand on his back, and instead looks at the child as he thinks over Arthur’s words. His face breaks into a grin, and Arthur returns the smile as the boy says:

“He’s the best isn’t he? I wanna be like him when I grow up!”

Arthur ruffles his hair, and replies quietly:

“Yeah kid, me too.”

The boy gives him a toothy grin, before running off once again, and Arthur lets out yet another breath he had been holding before standing up.

Merlin’s hand remains on his shoulder, and Arthur regrets meeting his gaze the moment he turns his head. But he also can’t rip his eyes away from the teary expression of awe and bewildered happiness on his face.

Merlin lets out a gentle laugh at Arthur’s apprehensive face before shaking his head, and looking back at him once again, this time amusement on his face:

“The best person you’ve ever met, huh?”

Arthur rolls his eyes and blushes deeply, pushing Merlin’s hand off his shoulder as he mumbles a flustered:

“Shut up, Merlin. I could hardly tell him the truth, could I?”

Merlin hums thoughtfully and replies with laughter in his voice:

“Hmm. That makes more sense, of course.”

Without waiting for Arthur’s reply, he grabs the King’s wrist and drags him towards a large tent in the corner of the clearing. Inside were two tables, one large, and one smaller and lower, both surrounded by benches.

Merlin directed them to bowls in the corner so they could wash their hands, before they sit at the larger of the two tables. Everyone over the ages of about fourteen joins them, the younger ones going to the smaller table.

Food appears, covering the surface, summoned from the cooking pots outside and the various food stores around the camp. Arthur tries to keep the wonderment off his face, but knows he failed miserably when he hears Merlin chuckle beside him. He punches Merlin’s leg under the table playfully, but that only makes him laugh harder.

He quietens when the man sat opposite Arthur stands:

“Today we have two honoured guests, our Lord Emrys, and the Once and Future King Arthur. We share our home, our food, and our welcome, for as long as they wish to stay. We raise our goblets to you, My Lords.”

At that, he raises his cup in the air, everyone else in the tent following him. Merlin smiles and nods at him, raising his own cup, and Arthur nervously copies his movements, comforted by Merlin’s reassuring hand on his knee.

With that, the Druid sits down, and conversation breaks out around the tent as everyone begins to eat.

Merlin handles most of the discussions, talking to everyone as if they were life long friends. Arthur is grateful for that, he answers any questions sent his way, asking a few polite ones in return, but Druid culture is so different to life in the city and Arthur doesn’t really know what he should be talking about.

Thankfully, the meal passes quickly, and after another announcement from the man Arthur now presumed was the leader here, the crowd dispersed, everything being cleared away with magic.

Not every Druid practiced sorcery, but they were clearly in a magic-heavy camp; Arthur could see it plain as day, everywhere he looked.

Merlin once again took Arthur’s wrist, leading him out into the sun. Usually, Arthur hated being led places, especially by the hand, but he found he didn’t quite mind it today. Whether it was because they were in Merlin’s domain, and Merlin was King here, or because of how nervous he was, or because of some other reason entirely, Arthur wasn’t sure, and frankly, he didn’t want to think too deeply about it.

This time, Merlin led them to another, smaller tent.

It had several comfortable looking chairs around a smallish circular table, which was covered in scrolls and parchments and old-looking books.

A few seconds later, they were joined by the Druid leader; he smiled softly at them and gestured for them to sit at the table. Merlin and Arthur sat next to each other, and the Druid kindly pretended not to notice them shuffling the chairs closer together.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, Arthur having lost his nerves fairly early in the conversation. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that official meetings were his specialty, or maybe it was because Merlin’s hand once again found his knee, but stayed there this time. Who knows.

The Druid had introduced himself, and once more welcomed Arthur to the camp, before launching into explanations of the prophecies and destinies, and everyone’s roles in them.

Merlin knew most if it, and looked especially proud of himself when the Druid described in wonder how Merlin had changed the very fates of the Lady Morgana, Sir Mordred, and Arthur himself.

Arthur was definitely taken aback at that. Whilst Merlin had prattled on, making no sense, about his and Arthur’s destinies, he had never mentioned anyone else, and Arthur becomes increasingly glad he came here to sort it all out.

There were some bits that not even Merlin knew though. He wasn’t aware that the other knights, Guinevere, and Gaius featured in a few of the newer prophecies, and the Druid had an amused smile on his face when he admitted that he’d thought Merlin would have figured that out.

Arthur did laugh at him at that, and Merlin flushed before telling him:

“Shut up, or I’ll tell the others you said I was the best person you’ve ever met, and they’ll never let you live it down.”

Arthur narrows his eyes, and the Druid continues look at them in amusement as they bicker.

The meeting comes to an end just before dark, and Arthur thanks the Druid profusely, for welcoming him, and taking the time to go through everything thoroughly.

Another meal is had in the large tent, but when they leave this time, the clearing has been completely emptied. A large bonfire roars in the middle, and logs surround it, providing seating for everyone.

The evening is full of stories and music and magic, and Arthur once again finds himself wondering just how he thought any of this could be evil.

Even Merlin stands to lead a song. He moves around the clearing with yet another child sat sat on his hip, giggling as Merlin spins her around.

Arthur is surprised to learn that Merlin has a good voice, and stares in wonderment as he leads the melody as if it was what he was born to do. The rest of the Druids clap along, joining in loudly and harmonising and playing instruments in time with the tune.

When the song comes to a close, the crowd burst into cheers as Merlin looks back to Arthur, breathing deeply and cheeks flushed. The Warlock smiles widely as he settles the child back in her mother’s lap before walking back over to his seat, next to Arthur.

Arthur returns his wide grin with a soft smile of his own, and as the music continues around them, Merlin tilts his face in happy confusion:

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Arthur just shakes his head slightly, smiling slightly wider as he responds without missing a beat:

“You’re beautiful like this. And you have an exceptional voice.”

Merlin flushes in surprise and looks to his lap, quietly muttering:

“I wouldn’t know about that...”

Arthur doesn’t look away, huffing out a laugh before replying:

“I mean it, Merlin. You just look... happy. Like you belong here.-”

He does look away here, staring into the fire with a thoughtful, but slightly mournful look on his face as Merlin peers up at him, curious. Arthur continues, even quieter, before Merlin can question him:

“-You know, I wouldn’t be angry if you wanted to stay. Here, I mean. I know magic is legal in Camelot now, but you belong somewhere like this. I would never begrudge you a home like this Merlin.”

Merlin laughs quietly, and takes Arthur’s hand, holding it in his lap like it’s something precious (it is, at least it is to Merlin). Arthur looks back at him in surprise, but doesn’t pull away as Merlin replies, still smiling:

“Home isn’t a place, Arthur, and the Druids know that better than anyone. Home is... home is wherever the people you love are. You are my people, Arthur, you and the knights and Gwen and Morgana and Gaius. My home is wherever you are. No matter my magic or title or destiny; my home will always be where you are.”

Arthur doesn’t let the tears in his eyes fall, but he does squeeze Merlin’s hand, giving him a tender smile that's returned without hesitation.

With the exchanging of smiles that any onlooker would describe as loving, the conversation comes to an easy close, and they spend the rest of the evening hand in hand, smiling fondly at the antics around them.

It’s late when the festivities come to an end, and Arthur and Merlin are exhausted, struggling to hold back yawns as they’re shown to a tent that had been set up for them.

Their bags had been removed from the horses and left in there, and the floor was covered in various blankets and pillows. There was a small trunk, for them to store anything they wished to unpack, and a few candles were lit, filling the room with a soft golden light and pleasant smells.

Merlin charms the tent to be soundproof so they don’t have to worry about noise (he may be openly able to use magic, but the idiot was still rather clumsy, and prone to accidental bangs and crashes), before removing his crown carefully. His cloak and boots follow shortly, and they all go neatly into the trunk, before he starts organising a spot to sleep.

After a few minutes, he realises that Arthur hasn’t moved from his space by the entrance, and Merlin turns around to look at him questioningly. Arthur’s eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks deep in thought as he stares at the floor, fiddling with the hem of his tunic.

Merlin walks over, concerned, and takes one of Arthur’s hands into his own. Arthur looks up at him suddenly, broken free of his thoughts, and Merlin raises an eyebrow at him as he strokes his thumb across The King’s knuckles:

“What’s wrong, Arthur?”

Arthur looks into Merlin’s eyes searchingly, but seems to find what he’s looking for after only a moment, and smiles. Merlin tilts his head to prompt him, and Arthur takes his other hand, before softly speaking:

“You know, I used to find the idea of falling in love frightening.-”

Merlin takes in a subtle deep breath, but Arthur doesn’t notice as he shakes his head, huffing out a gentle laugh before continuing, looking somewhere over Merlin’s shoulder:

“-The possibility that someone could have that much control over me; that I would willingly give another person dominion over my heart, my soul, my... everything, was terrifying to me. But I find I’m not scared anymore.-”

He looks back at Merlin’s shocked face. Arthur looks an odd mix of disbelieving, and happy beyond words as he continues, confident that what he’s saying is right, for the first time in a long time:

“-Because it’s you, Merlin. It’s always been you. And how could I possibly find falling in love with you anything other than beautiful?”

Merlin gulps, seemingly searching Arthur’s face for any hint of a lie. When he finds nothing but sincerity, he launches himself forward, almost knocking Arthur to the floor.

He wraps his arms around the blonde’s shoulders tightly, burying a hand in his hair, and his face in the crook of his neck. Arthur huffs out a laugh as he wraps his arms around Merlin’s waist, running a soft hand up and down his back.

At Merlin’s muttered:

“I love you, Arthur, more than anything is this world. My magic, my everything, belongs to you.”

Arthur pulls back, smiling. He leans forward pressing his forehead against Merlin’s, and cups his cheek softly with his hand. They stare into the blue of each other’s eyes for a moment, not in any hurry to move the moment along, Arthur running his thumb over Merlin’s cheekbone, and Merlin carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair.

Arthur takes a deep breath, before whispering, so quietly it’s a miracle Merlin hears him:

“Can I kiss you?”

Merlin nods infinitesimally, and the two of them lean forward, meeting in the middle in a soft kiss that could only be described as tender, and full of love.

If the stars shine brighter, and the wind blows warmer, and the animals of the dark seem happier that night... well... it was spring... surely no one would notice (Arthur definitely noticed, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to point it out, in case Merlin stopped).

THE END!!

This is the first one I’ve written in aaaaages that didn’t involve a dizzy/exhausted/sick Merlin so... yay me?

I just really wanted to write something fluffy, where there were no high stakes. No huge battles, or angsty confessions or anything like that, just a soft love story.

I genuinely got no clue what I’ll write next. I do have a few drafts and ideas floating around, but let me know if you’re after anything specific, I live to please :)

Like always, you wanna write this up properly with paragraphs and fleshed out stuff, go for it, credit and tag me :)

775 notes · View notes

loveyou-x3000 · 4 years ago

Note

Untitles document any number

Have a glance at an unfinished continuation of Family:

They never went to the Castle in the Sky.

Ultimately, no matter how great Sesshomaru’s power, no matter how terrifying his influence, it would not be safe for the twins to live in a castle amongst demonkind. His mother had pointed out as much when he’d called an audience with her, reminding him of all his Father’s greatest missteps and follies. His pride had killed him as much as his dalliances had. Were Sesshomaru not careful, that path would quickly become his own.

So they stayed.

InuYasha didn’t seem to mind, though he barked nonsense about it from time to time. Kagome, though only one woman, managed the children well enough despite her duties. She had her friends to help her and InuYasha was the furthest thing from an absent Father, minding his nieces just as well as he minded his own daughter.

Sesshomaru stayed near the children as often as he could. The hut they lived in was not the great palace he thought they deserved, but it was far enough from the village that no one cast a second glance in its direction, leaving all its inhabitants well enough alone. When he was near, he slept on the roof or at the door, but never inside; if the girls wanted him, they were more than welcome to leave the warmth of the hut and curl up in his lap to spend the night. They often did, in fact.

For a while, things were fine, and the girls grew safely.

***

In the beginning of their fourth year, he returned to Edo village after a fortnight away and found InuYasha crouching low in the bushes, hiding like a woodland creature. When he stepped down out of the sky and onto the grass behind him, looming tall, InuYasha cursed at him, hissing for him to get down.

Ridiculously, Sesshomaru acquiesced to the demand without considering it, crouching down low to one knee.

Silence fell as the pair of half-brothers hid in shrubbery. There was no danger, so far as he could tell; the scent of all three girls was scattered on the wind, but their auras were near, moving quickly through the forest.

“What are you doing?” he kept his voice low, if only so that no one else would come upon them and find him in such a compromising scene.

InuYasha hushed him. “Shuddup. The girls are tracking, you’ll tip ‘em off.”

“Tracking what?” Sesshomaru wondered, blatantly ignoring his brother’s demands. Still, he reigned his yoki into his chest and let it curl there, concealing it away.

“Me, idiot.” He grumbled, peering out over the top of the bushes. His ears twitched one way and then the other, listening for them. They were stampeding as loud as horses, chattering with one another as they tried to find their guardian. It seemed InuYasha had left them with a few false starts.

“Hn.”

Whether it was a game or a training exercise, or both, Sesshomaru decided it was an acceptable excuse and fell into an easy silence. His patience, eternal as it was, never faltered, senses keenly attuned to all three girls as they traversed the forest alone. By the way the hanyo’s ears twitched, he knew he was doing the same.

When the girls finally did find him, InuYasha received a face-full of Moroha as she tackled him, and Towa crash landed on his chest in victory, giggling. It was Setsuna who seemed calmer, almost timid as she peered over the bushes at the pile of bodies, lips downturned slightly.

Then she saw him, and her eyes lit up.

“Father!”

He stood in one graceful movement and held his arm out to her, sweeping her up in his hold when she clambored up. Towa, finally noticing him, beamed.

“Papa!”

I think this was supposed to end up being an exploration of InuYasha’s and Sesshomaru’s relationship and past, but I never finished it.

#anti-sessrin #Anonymous #asks #inuyasha #yashahime #hanyo no yashahime #wip asks

36 notes · View notes

snidgetwidgeon · 4 years ago

Text

Escape

This work was prompted by a fic exchange between friends on Discord. It evolved into something completely different as I wrote it, becoming my first whump! Prepare for the sad.

Zelda endeavors to find purpose through her crippling grief, but sometimes all you can do is leave your world behind, when all it has done is take from you.

~~~

Link found Zelda in the greenhouse treating the hydroponic tank, hands dipped into the cool water, emitting a soft golden glow. He never ceased to be mesmerized by her birth right and the creative ways she continued finding to help people.

She had chosen a quieter path after they sealed the Calamity. Rather than reinstating the monarchy in a kingdom that had clearly survived and moved on without it, she decided to be a healer. It was noble, but he also understood it to be penance. She still blamed herself for everything even though she was better at hiding it after all these years.

“Almost finished?” he asked, playing with the leaves of a tea bush.

She looked up startled, then relaxed as she saw it was only Link in his stealth set. He’d taken quite a liking to many things Sheikah since they made their residence in Kakariko and this was his favorite.

“What have I told you about slinking up on me?” she reprimanded calmly, refocusing her attention on the water.

“Don’t get caught?”

“Very funny,” she replied. “One of these days, you’ll startle the wrong person.”

Link answered with a cheeky grin.

She rolled her eyes, “I’m coming soon, I just wanted to finish feeding the new crop before we left.”

“Alright, I’ll check the horses over, make sure we haven’t forgotten anything. The girls told me to tell you, ‘don’t you dare leave’ without seeing them first,” he mimicked Koko’s manner. “I think they have something for you at the house.”

She turned to say something but he had slipped out as quietly as he had slipped in. She blew out a slow breath, trying to retain her patience.

The glow faded as she lifted her hands out of the water. She dried them on her tunic and ensured the notes she left for Mellie were in the right place. With a final glance over, everything was as it should be. Satisfied, she went to find the girls to say goodbye.

Koko and Cottla slid the door open and threw themselves at her when she knocked. “Girls, girls! You aren’t little anymore, you’re gonna take me out one day if you keep bowling me over like a baby goron,” she chided them good naturedly.

“But we miss you already,” Cottla explained while squeezing Zelda’s waist.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Come on now, you know the drill.” Zelda pried them off. “Right, Link said you have something for me?”

Koko brightened and rushed to the table to retrieve an ornate box. “Dad made this box for you to organize your medicines in when you visit the other villages, and me and Cottie made you something too!”

Zelda took it and admired the craftsmanship. It was engraved with herbs well known as remedies for various ailments and even included a silent princess on the front between the two opening clasps. “This is so beautiful, and very practical. Please tell your father I appreciate it very much in case I don’t see him on my way out.” She then looked at the girls a little expectantly, who were fit to bursting, and asked, “And what did you two make?”

“Open it,” they both chimed, slightly out of sync.

“Oh! How silly of me, of course.” She carefully undid the clasps and raised the lid to reveal a variety of snacks. “My goodness, these look delicious.”

Cottla started pointing, “I made this one, and this one, and those ones-”

Koko interrupted, “And I made this one, and all of these ones,” she said as she lifted the top layer out of the box to reveal an extra compartment beneath.

“They look wonderful, thank you so much. I’ll make sure to stretch them out during my trip and think of you lots.”

With her free arm she hugged them both and kissed their foreheads before departing, mirroring their frantic waving.

~~~

Link and Zelda began in Akkala and made their way across central Hyrule and Tabantha. Zelda’s melancholy was always more noticeable on the road than in the village. They would go hours without speaking, and Link would hum to himself often, hoping that it offered her some comfort. About halfway through their journey, he noticed a change in her spirit.

Their next destination was Gerudo Town. It always warmed her heart to visit and was her favorite. It had been her home away from home when she was growing up and she was never able to visit as much as she wanted.

From Gerudo Stable, it took nearly a day on foot to reach Kara Kara where the pool was quite welcoming. They decided to have a refreshing dip to wash off the sweat and dust of the road. They followed this by sunning themselves on the rocks like lizards until mostly dry then went to secure a room and a meal. The following day they would rent some sand seals so as not to exhaust themselves on the remainder of the journey. Link double checked that he carried all pieces of the vai outfit so he would be able to enter. He did not fancy having to wait outside like that one year when he’d remembered everything but the all important face covering.

He could have returned to Kara Kara to try and source another, but there was no guarantee something would be available and by the time he returned, Zelda would be just about finished anyway. So he had slummed it with the men outside. It wasn’t all bad. They had a nice campfire and a sense of camaraderie during the night, but... never again.

After arriving, Link went to organize their rooms at the Oasis while Zelda sought an audience with Chief Riju. By now she was a young woman of nearly twenty, still on the small side for a Gerudo, but her thick red braid had grown with her and was just as impressive as ever.

“Zelda,” she greeted her guest enthusiastically, “I’ve been looking forward to your visit. Please tell me you’ll be staying longer this time, poor Patricia doesn’t know what to do with herself when you blow in and out.”

“I see you remembered my request from last time. Thank you,” she nodded sincerely.

“Of course, I’d call you anything you like. Absent, late,” she started waving her hands to various examples in jest, “never here long enough-”

“Alright, I get it. I’m sorry. It’s just,” Zelda focused on her feet, “Impa is so frail now, I was wary of leaving at all this year.”

Riju rose from her throne in concern and approached Zelda, taking her hands in her own. “My sincerest apologies, I would not have teased if I knew. How is she?”

Zelda looked up surprised before staring down at Riju’s hands. They were smooth and bronzed, adorned with golden bracelets and teal painted nails that reminded her of Urbosa. “She... she was certainly still well enough to send me packing, telling me not to languish around on her account. The other people of Hyrule need me too, and this is how I have chosen to help, so... here I am,” she smiled but it did not reach her eyes.

Riju enveloped her in a hug and she found herself staring wide-eyed at Buliara whom she could have sworn wore a light smirk. Green mirrored green as Riju then held her at arms length, gazing into her eyes before looking her over. “What has Link been feeding you? Chickaloo nuts?” Before Zelda could answer, Riju took her by the hand and dragged her out of the audience chamber. “We’re going to go have a nice meal at the Canteen.”

Buliara was quick to follow. “Chief Riju, you still have-”

“Whatever it is can wait, I’m spending time with our special guest,” Riju answered over her shoulder. Zelda felt a slight exhilaration being pulled down the steps into the town square where the evening markets were beginning to ramp up. “What about Link?”

Riju grinned, “He’s resourceful, he’ll find us,” she winked.

Zelda felt a flutter.

~~~

A fortnight or so later, they had made their way through the Faron region and hired a boat to take them around the cape into Hateno Bay. Zelda counted the last of the fifty-odd packs labeled Blessed Tea and handed them over to the Mayor when she saw Symin running down the hill from the lab. It only seemed slightly curious until she also spotted a Rito flying away. Suddenly she had a bad feeling.

She quickly finished her transaction, “These should help over winter, Mayor, excuse me,” then yelled for Link and raced to meet Symin, leaving the Mayor with a confused expression.

Link was swiftly by her side and they met Symin halfway up the path, everyone out of breath.

“Zelda,” Symin started, “we just received word- Impa.”

Zelda was stricken, and grabbed his arm, “Is she gone?!”

“No,” he gasped for breath, “fading.”

“Link, pack our things. I’ll get Purah ready.”

The three of them materialized just above Kakariko and Zelda immediately started running down the winding path through the houses. She didn’t stop until she was huffing right outside the door of the Elder’s house. She tried to compose herself. She wanted to brave.

She hadn’t felt such fear since the day she stared down the maw of the calamity.

Link caught up shortly after, having kindly kept pace with an adolescent Purah. Part of her hoped that her sister might chose to stay with them, but in her heart she knew. This whole exercise was going to be futile.

Zelda took a deep breath and pushed the door open, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the lanterns. Paya was sitting next to Impa’s platform, her red tower of pillows now replaced with a futon. Zelda could see Impa’s small form as she approached, appearing as though she could disappear altogether under the covers into nothingness.

Paya stood and took Zelda’s hands, “She’s been holding out for you, I know it,” she whispered.

Zelda choked on a sob. “Is she- can she still hear me?”

“Yes, she’s just sleeping. You look like you could use some rest too. I’ll come get you if she wakes.”

“No, there’s no way I’m leaving her.” Zelda sat next to the futon and put her hands on the cover. She could just make out the faint tattoo in the wrinkled folds of Impa’s forehead and stretched her fingers out to touch it. They started to glow and Zelda connected with Impa’s fading essence, offering comfort and wishing she could do more. She could feel it, she had no power over the natural death of age.

She locked eyes with Purah who was now standing close, and raised her brow in a silent, pleading question.

“Of course I’ll stay.” Purah joined her on the floor, one hand resting on Zelda’s knee for support and the other gripped tightly around her slate to stabilize her own feelings.

They sat for some time, mostly in silence, occasionally telling stories about their favorite times with Impa. Link made himself useful and cared for them the best way he knew how, bringing food and soothing tea, Zelda’s own mixture. It was hardly touched but accepted with love.

Finally, after the sun had just set, Impa stirred. She was having trouble blinking her eyes open so Paya dabbed them with a wet cloth. When she saw them, her mouth opened in a lopsided, toothless grin, “My girls. There you are,” she said with a croaky voice.

“I’m here, Impa,” Zelda darted her hand under the covers to take one of Impa’s into her own, the return clasp was so loose.

“You should be out, dear. Helping-”

“All finished. I’m home to stay now.” Zelda shuffled over a bit. “Do you see who I brought with me? It’s Purah.”

Impa’s mouth became a surprised ‘O’ and she cooed. “Oh my, young as the days I chastised you, I see.”

Purah smiled, “Hey, sis. You always knew how to look out for me, even if I didn’t listen.” She looked between Paya and her slate hesitantly, an unspoken permission requested.

Paya nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Impa, I can look after you now. Wouldn’t you like to stay longer? We need you.” Her young voice felt foreign to her in Impa’s presence and she experienced a sudden nostalgia for when they used to work at the Castle, an entire era ago.

A soft chuckle escaped the feeble woman and she squeezed Zelda’s hand a little.

“You are all quite well equipped. I’ll not be having you point that thing at me.”

Zelda leaned in, “Impa, please don’t say that. Purah knows how it works now. You could just have half again, even a quarter. I can’t lose you.” Zelda’s breath became shallow and she started to feel frantic. If Impa was gone, it was one more piece of her life ripped away without her control.

“I’m tired, dear. You have to let me go.” Impa smiled and her tattoo started to glow faintly.

Zelda looked to Purah, who appeared confused, and then to Paya, who was suppressing a panic. She knew what it was and white-knuckled her hands against her chest as tears started streaming down her cheeks.

“Paya? What’s happening?” Zelda asked fearfully.

“Gram- Gramma, no. I’m not ready,” her voice broke and she held Impa’s head gently, leaning over to touch their foreheads together.

The blue became stronger between them and Impa whispered, “You are, my child. You are...”

Zelda felt Impa’s hand go slack. “No, Impa. Impa! We can save you, please!”

The clatter of the slate felt like it could be heard across the village when Purah dropped it and lunged for her sister. Impa’s body became a blue energy that broke across the room as Purah cried, “Impa!”

Link stared in awe at a scene he was all too familiar with. A Sheikah, having fulfilled their duty to Hylia, finally being able to return to an essence.

Zelda started shrieking and he rushed to her, holding her tight and letting her sob into his chest. When the light faded, Zelda’s golden radiance remained, but it offered no warmth.

Outside, Dorian heard the screams and held his position stoically as he stared across the village she loved; the village she had welcomed him into, despite his past and his betrayal. A few tears escaped his rugged features. She was one of the greatest souls he ever knew.

The day after next, residents gathered at the graveyard and a fresh stone was added. It looked out of place next to the other well worn and moss covered ones. Impa’s had the Eye of the Sheikah carved in its face. Zelda stared at it for an age and at the same time, felt like she was staring at nothing at all.

After another two days of cultural observations and preparations, Paya was ready to be presented as the new spiritual leader of Kakariko. Zelda blessed her before the statue of Hylia and then kept to herself during the following festivities. She retired early and bade Link to follow.

Once back in the house, she said to him, “I need to leave.”

He nodded in understanding. “Ok. We’ll leave.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What should we tell everyone?”

“That I’m going on a pilgrimage.”

~~~

A few days later they made it to Gerudo Town. Riju couldn’t hide her pleasure from the surprise visit, but the mood quickly turned somber when she found out why. The Chieftain offered Zelda a place in her chambers and silenced Buliara’s protest. She would not have a dear friend grieving away in a hotel, protocol be damned.

As much as she tended to defy her right hand’s strict adherence to the rules, she did appreciate that Buliara was always there to remind her of what was done, and what was not done. That way, she knew when she was making an informed decision to do whatever she pleased.

Zelda accepted her offer and hid in Riju’s chambers for days, cuddling the sand seals and moping. When Riju finished her duties, which were more often pushed aside than not so she could try to offer comfort, Zelda remained flighty about discussing her pain.

Link came by occasionally to check on her but Zelda would have him turned away. It was a hard thing to do because she knew she was hurting him, but she needed to get him used to being without her. Since the moment Impa died, she knew what she wanted. And that was to leave. She needed to leave the past that was weighing in her heart like a black hole, devouring all of her present and future into its guilt ridden depths. Hyrule held nothing for her but regret.

Just as she had been doing every evening, Riju asked Zelda if she wanted to come down and join her for dinner. Until now, she’d been politely refused, but tonight, she was pleased to hear something different.

“Could we take dinner here, in your chambers?” Zelda asked from her lounging position on the sofa. She had a Gerudo text in front of her, mildly interested in learning the modern colloquialisms that had developed since she spoke the language with her mother and Urbosa.

“Well... of course, I see no reason why not.” Riju held one arm in the other and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Is there something you wish to discuss?”

Zelda gave an expression somewhere between conviction and a half smile as she appeared to work up the courage. “Yes.”

“Say no more.”

They conversed well into the night and found a familiarity that was comforting when Riju said, “You know you’re welcome to call me Makeela.” She became nervous when that caused Zelda to fall silent.

Finally she spoke, and Riju’s stomach felt weightless at hearing her name on Zelda’s lips.

“Makeela, I have been wanting to ask if you’d be willing to help me with a serious undertaking.” She placed her fork on her plate and dabbed at her mouth with the napkin, having only finished a third of her meal.

“I would help you in all endeavors. My resources are yours to command.” Riju took a sip of her wine and played with her braid.

“I wish... no.” Zelda looked at her feet because she did not want to see the hurt she knew this would cause her dear friend. “I need to leave Hyrule.”

Riju’s butterflies plummeted and she tried to keep her composure. “For- for how long?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a few years. Maybe forever.” She worried at the fabric of her sirwal but kept her resolve.

“I- well- a trip like that takes weeks to prepare. It is not the usual season that we cross the desert.” Riju stood, placing her unfinished glass on the table and left for the doorway. “I’ll have to see if we can spare the resources.” She frowned, unable to hold in her disappointment any longer. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

After Riju left, Zelda exhaled a low sigh and slumped in her chair. She downed the rest of her and Riju’s wine and crashed, unaware of the Chief’s return later that night.

Riju was also already up and gone the next morning. In her place was Link, glaring at her from the sofa. Zelda imagined he was trying to be intimidating but with a large stuffed seal sitting next to him she could only laugh.

His face faltered to one of pleasant surprise as he hadn’t heard her laugh in so long, but he regained his resolve and began his interrogation. “When were you planning on telling me your designs for crossing the borders?”

She wasn’t immediately forthcoming.

“Zelda, I swore an oath and by Hylia I will keep it, but... I have things- and people that I would need to see before going on a pilgrimage like this. I’d appreciate being part of such a big decision.”

Zelda’s humor had faded and she braced herself under his perfectly justified onslaught. “Well, you’re not.”

“I beg your pardon?” he stood up and crossed the room, taking on an imposing figure; quite a feat considering what he was wearing. He loomed over the edge of her trundle bed against the sandstone wall of Riju’s luxurious chambers.

She looked up at him challengingly, “You aren’t coming.”

“What does that even mean?” he spluttered.

She rose to meet his face and squared her jaw. “It means you are staying here so you can deal with the people and things you need to.”

He was about to protest having his words thrown back at him but she continued, throwing a finger in his face, “No, you should start living your own life. All I have ever done is take from you.”

His features softened to concern, “Zelda, that’s not true.”

She walked past him to the alcove of the terrace and looked out at the morning bustle. “It is, you just don’t remember. You fulfilled your destiny Link. You should be free of me.”

“I would never abandon you.”

She heaved a great sigh and closed her eyes. “Just... just promise me you’ll at least think about it?”

He hovered for a moment before acquiescing. “Fine.” He then swept down the stairs in a mood.

She imagined he would go and brood. Probably going to climb one of his mountains. “I’m sorry, Link.”

~~~

Riju had become somewhat distant since their evening meal but she assured Zelda that preparations for the caravan were underway and expected to be completed the following week. Initially, the lead Gerudo desert scout was not keen on leaving during an off season, but once she found out that Hylia’s Blessed would be with them, she agreed. As per tradition, there was a festival of worship held before a large trade journey to entreat the Goddess of the Sands and the Seven Heroine ancestors to bless their travels across the barrens.

As the sun set, the decorative lanterns strewn about the main square started glowing different colors and swaths of shimmering, patterned fabrics hung from the stalls and palm trees. Drums began to play as the party who had set out the previous day to provide offerings to the Seven Heroine monoliths returned to take part in the festivities. Once they had completed a prayer they were given the first servings of food and drink. Travelers who were fortunate to be within the town at the time were enthralled when the announcement was made in Gerudo, “You may begin!”

Zelda leaned against a palm tree, absentmindedly tracing the pattern on some of the draped fabrics when she noticed that dancing had begun. She was suddenly reminded of when she was little, watching beautiful women in vibrant colors, hips undulating and slitted skirts swirling hypnotically. Her mother had danced this way with Urbosa and she’d drawn Zelda in, twirling her between them. She was filled with an intense warmth and an incredible sadness all at once and almost left to return to her quarters when she saw Riju.

She was in the middle of the dancers, hair wild and free, draped in a teal sirwal to match her lips. She found Zelda staring and smiled dazzlingly. Riju kept her gaze steady on Zelda for the rest of the dance, only when she turned away would it be broken and then their eyes would lock once more.

Once it was finished, a new drum beat started and the denizens joined in, knowing it was now open to everyone. An overly confident Goron even jumped in, wiggling joyously and taking extra care to not knock anyone over.

Riju bounced over, breathless and elated.

Zelda smiled, “Makeela, that was amazing, I didn’t know you could dance.”

“An offering to the Goddess of the Sands. Anyone can join in now. Come join with me,” she held out her hand, bracelets jingling melodically.

Zelda hesitated for a moment, remembering the joy she felt dancing so, so long ago. She then placed her hand in Riju’s and allowed herself to be transported. If only for tonight.

The beat was energetic and the movements were such that they were mostly apart, Zelda trying humorously to get her hips swinging the same way; but when they came together, the warmth of Riju’s hand would cause a shiver of excitement to run all the way to her toes and she was thankful that her blush was hidden by the exertion.

Teal and white swirled through the crowds, long red and golden tresses whipped as they spun. They were constantly laughing, apologizing to those they bumped into because they only saw each other. For a few moments, Zelda felt happy.

The next couple of days passed by in a bit of a haze. Zelda had finally emerged from Riju’s chambers and explored Gerudo Town one last time before her trip. Her heart was heavy, now burdened with the prospect of yet even another loss, but her resolve remained.

She partook in various activities to try and distract herself from the waiting, and even indulged at the Oasis. She melted away during the treatment but the moment she was back outside shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she saw a familiar Hylian vai waiting for her. The weight in her stomach returned and she stole herself for what was to come.

She approached him, indicating that she was ready to have it out.

“I have done as you asked,” he said flatly.

“And?”

“I’ve decided to come with you.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose before looking at him. “Let’s talk about this somewhere else.”

As they moved away, a stall holder scrunched her nose in disappointment.

When they reached a secluded space between some sandstone walls and storage crates she surprised him by outright apologizing. “Link, I’m sorry. The way I spoke to you before... made it sound like you had a choice.”

Confusion and anger crossed his features and she continued before he could speak, “I’m going and you will build your own life here like you always should have been allowed to do. I’m ordering you to.”

“But- my oath. I must keep you safe-”

“You can’t even remember taking your oath,” she spat impatiently. It was cruel. But he needed to be convinced. “If you wish to be beholden to oaths, then I, Princess Zelda of Hyrule, hereby release you of your duty and order you to live your own life.”

“You are my only life,” he said softly. “Zel, you’re all I’ve known since I woke up.”

She was caught off guard and speechless for a few moments, then reached out to his shoulders and pulled his forehead against hers, closing her eyes. “I’m so sorry. Hylia always takes everything from her Hero.”

He wrapped his arms around her and they shared an embrace of kinship only known to the souls of the past who also bore the pieces of courage and wisdom. When she pulled away, her brows furrowed in pain. “If you won’t be parted from me for your own sake then I need you to do it for mine.”

“What do you mean?”

She sat on one of the crates, the rejuvenating energy she regained at the Oasis already drained, swallowed up by her distress. “I don’t think I can heal here. Everything reminds me of my failure and the losses I have sustained. With Impa gone, I just... I can’t anymore. I need to be free of this place and everyone in it. Including you.”

He knelt before her and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “At least take them with you, just in case,” he entreated.

She opened it tentatively and faltered, shaking her head. It was the photo of the two of them with the Champions. He’d kept it with him all this time.

“No,” she refused kindly, placing one hand on her heart and holding it back out for him. “I have them here. You need this more than me.”

On top of everything else she regretted, Link had never regained his memories. She had occasionally tried telling him stories of their lives, but it always became too painful and eventually he stopped asking.

He nodded and returned it to its place in a pocket against his breast. He then drew the Master Sword from his back and held it horizontally before him. They regarded each other sadly and she tilted her head forwards to acknowledge his ceremony.

“I, Link, Knight of Hyrule, renounce my sworn duty to the Crown Princess... at the behest of my dear friend, Zelda.”

She smiled through a chin wobble and nodded her thanks, unable to form words.

He stood and sheathed the blade, a fleeting thought crossing his mind that the next leg of this pilgrimage would be returning it to its resting place in the Korok Forest. He drew her up into hug and stroked her hair. “I’ll miss you.”

A tear dropped onto his shoulder and she let go to hold his face, realizing it may be the last time she looks upon it. She kissed him. “Thank you. For taking care of me.”

He nodded once and then slipped away as her hands fell back to her sides, scrunching her sirwal.

~~~

Zelda returned to Riju’s room and stood numbly for a few moments. She didn’t know what to do with herself and listlessly looked around. She nearly decided on diving into the stuffed seals but then spied the inviting pool close to the foot of her bed. She would wash. Just wash the whole day away.

She perused the shelf of bathing accoutrements as she tied up her hair and picked a few promising items. She dropped two large rubies in to heat the water and an aromafizz that smelled of lemongrass. When the bath was bubbling away, she shed her clothes, folded them neatly on her bed and stepped in, sighing with pleasure. She settled her head on a folded towel at the edge and tried to think of nothing while playing with the ruby under the water. The bubbles had come up a lovely pale yellow and she balanced some on her knees, making little wobbly peaks.

Not long after, Riju came in and exclaimed, “Oh, what a perfect idea. Mind if I join you?” She was already taking off her headdress before waiting for an answer and when Zelda managed to squeak a yes, she started leaving a trail of shoes, top and skirt all the way to the water.

Zelda knew that public bathing was common place for Gerudo but she still politely averted her eyes until Riju was under the bubbles and situating her large braid behind her neck to act as her pillow. Once she was finally settled she let out a big sigh. “Yes, this is just what I needed.”

They relaxed in a companionable silence for quite some time, before Zelda oddly felt compelled to talk about what had happened. She opened her eyes and looked over at Riju. “I sent Link away today.”

“What?” Riju jerked her head up so quickly that her braid fell into the water.

“Sorry,” Zelda exclaimed but Riju waved away her concern.

“Why did you send him away?”

“He should be living his own life, not tethered to me anymore.”

“But who will look out for you when you cross the desert? I mean, on occasion a Gerudo will stay, but usually just for one rotation-” she suddenly looked hopeful. “Does this mean you are not going?”

Zelda stared into Riju’s eager eyes and her resolve faltered. “I- I’m not sure.” The sudden and seemingly permanent departure of someone who had been by her side for seven years made her long for closeness. And Riju clearly cared for her. Did she also, in return?

She started to play with Riju’s braid under the water, removing the tie and unwinding the tresses. Riju closed her eyes in pleasure, feeling the gentle tugs like a scalp massage. She leaned forward and with a wet, soapy hand, tamed one of Zelda’s fly aways before letting her nails glide down her cheek onto her neck. Zelda shivered under her ghostly touch and her lips parted as she gazed at Riju through half-lidded eyes.

“Makeela,” she said softly.

Riju drew the small woman into her chest and kissed her tenderly, as much a comforting gesture as it was an exploration. Zelda yielded to her and caressed her shoulders and neck, deepening their connection. Her hands started to glow golden and Riju gave a start at the sensation, pulling back in surprise. “What is that?”

“I- I honestly don’t know. My power- but it has never done this before.”

Riju raised a curious eyebrow. “Have you ever done this before?”

Zelda spluttered and Riju laughed playfully. “Come here, I’ll give you something to glow about.” She winked.

They were in each other’s arms every available moment Riju had over the next two days. Things felt easy between them. So easy, that assumptions were made. And conversations that perhaps should have been started, never were.

Until the morning of the trade caravan.

Zelda untangled herself from Riju’s limbs and slipped out of bed to start packing. She had already planned what minimal items to take. Just the essentials that she would need for the road and plenty of money to be able to get herself started on the other side. She kept sparing guilty glances over at her lover’s sleeping form. She should never have allowed herself to indulge. Her moment of weakness was going to break this woman’s heart.

She sighed and went to collect some breakfast. When she returned and set her things down on the table she saw Riju was sitting up in bed, staring at her bag. Her brows were furrowed and without looking at Zelda, stated, “You’re packing.”

Zelda stood still awkwardly before answering, “Yes.”

“But we- Zelda, we’re together now. I thought...” She trailed off, the growing pain evident in her voice.

“Come and have breakfast.”

Riju threw the covers off and approached angrily. “Nothing’s going in that won’t come straight back out. Explain!”

“Makeela, I told you that I need to leave-”

“That was before any of- of-,” she gestured between them, “this!”

Zelda reached for Riju’s hand, not knowing how to reconcile her new feelings with her truth. She knew she still needed to leave. “Why not come with me?” she suggested foolishly, knowing that it was impossible, but holding a faint hope that somehow, Riju would say yes.

Riju let her anger flare, unable to understand the selfishness. “Unlike you, I can’t just leave my people,” she spat, pulling her hand away.

Zelda appeared as if she’d been slapped and Riju immediately regretted lashing out.

“Keela,” Zelda said softly, lip trembling, “all my people are dead. I can’t... I can’t escape my past.” Her eyes began to sting with tears. “All those years, in that thing,” she heaved, suddenly looking frightened. “I don’t know who I am anymore.” The dam burst and she shuddered.

Riju enveloped her into a tight embrace from which Zelda derived no comfort, lost again in the darkness of a hundred years. Her tears fell golden and a light grew over them both, Hylia trying to heal her broken heart.

“Everyone is gone. My family, my friends. Purah is different, and Robbie is also not long for this world. And Impa, she wouldn’t stay. I begged her! I’ve lost Impa,” she wailed.

Riju was horrified that something she said caused such a visceral reaction. She lifted Zelda’s face to her own and wiped her tears, staring frantically into her eyes, “I’m sorry, Zelda, I’m so sorry. You have me.” She kissed her and a tear rolled down her cheek, emotions now taking them both. She pulled away to search Zelda’s deadened gaze. “I love you.”

Riju leaned in again, softer this time, and she felt a slight pressure of return just before Zelda put her hands over hers and lowered them from her face, ending the kiss.

“I... I wish I could say it back.”

Riju’s heart plummeted and it showed, though she tried to hide it.

Zelda squeezed her hands. “It’s not that I wouldn’t. I just... I can’t love anyone else until I learn to forgive myself. I have felt nothing but pain and regret since my escape, no matter what I try. Please-”

“It’s ok, I understand. Just promise me you’ll be safe.”

“Hylia is with me. And now you will be, too.”

~~~

For @aviatordame

#breath of the wild #fanfiction #whump #angst #character death #smol fluff #zelda #riju #link #paya #impa #purah #escape #snidgetwidgeon scribbles

13 notes · View notes

fanficshiddles · 5 years ago

Text

Predator to Prey, Chapter 1

Loki has been banished to Midgard, trapped in a forest that he can’t leave from. He turns into his Jotun form every night. The locals from a nearby town believe there’s a monster in the forest, so send girls in as a sacrifice and he takes great pleasure in their gifts. But one day, Loki comes across a wolf that he befriends... But she is no ordinary wolf.

Warnings: Non-con elements (but not the focus of the story)

- The woman grabbed her torn clothes and used what was left of them to hold against her body as she rushed for the door. But Loki was already there, opening it for her with a big grin on his face.

‘It was a pleasure to meet you, darling. Be sure to tell all your friends.’ He called after her with a chuckle as she ran out of his cottage and into the depths of the forest.

Loki leaned against the door-frame, in all of his blue naked glory, and watched her run away. With a growl he went back inside and slammed the door shut behind him. He always wanted a drink after having his fun, so he grabbed some whiskey from the cabinet in the corner of the room and sat down.

That was the third woman this week that had been offered up to him as a sacrifice. The locals must be getting fearful, he thought, surely they were thinking he was the cause of the really dry yet cold weather lately that was causing their crops to die.

For the last two years, since he had been banished to this godforsaken forest, the locals in a nearby town quickly made up rumours about a monster living in their forest that needed to be appeased with female offerings.

They were usually always willing enough… until he got started on them. He smirked to himself as he sipped his whiskey. It wasn’t cold enough so he turned the glass to ice.

When the sun went down at night, he turned into his Jotun form whether he wanted to or not. And he wouldn’t change back until sunrise, so he always made sure that the sacrifices were gone by then. If anyone saw him in his natural form they would think he was just an ordinary man, which wouldn’t do at all. Because where was the fun in that?

And he was certainly no ordinary man.

The sun started to rise just as he was finishing his whiskey. As the sunlight came in the window, his skin changed back to his usual colour and the markings all over his body vanished. He cracked his neck to each side and sighed.

He was getting bored. The only highlight of his week was when he did get someone sent to him. Another was whenever the almighty Odin would send an Asgardian slave down every fortnight to check on him and bring him plenty of supplies. Since he was unable to leave the forest boundaries.

Loki still had all of his powers, though. He was just unable to lift the curse that Odin had placed upon him. No matter how hard he tried or how much potions he tried to conjure up to counteract it, nothing worked. But he would bide his time, wait until he found a weakness in Odin’s spell and get his revenge.

Standing up he stretched out his limbs and decided to go out hunting. Whilst he got plenty of supplies sent to him, especially from Frigga, it wasn’t enough for his appetite. Especially with the extra rigorous exercise he was getting on a weekly basis. So he often went hunting, made use of the land and what it had to offer.

As he made his way out the door, he used his Seidr to put on his armour and made sure he had plenty of his throwing daggers with him. Then he made his way through the large forest.

With four rabbits slung over Loki’s shoulder, he started to head back home. He was a few miles away, that was the only good thing about the forest, it was huge so there was plenty to explore.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a faint whimpering sound coming from his left, off track. Frowning, he turned and went towards the sound.

When he pushed through some bushes he stopped again, slightly confused at what he saw. Lying against a large rock, was a wolf. But not an ordinary wolf, she looked larger than the average ones. And she was beautifully jet black with touches of grey on her back.

A low growl came from her when she saw Loki, her head went down a bit and she didn’t take her eyes off him.

Loki wondered for a moment why she wasn’t fleeing from him, but then he noticed she was holding her front leg funny. It looked broken.

He wasn’t one for liking Midgardians, but the animals he did like. Whether that was to eat or observe. Wolves were one of those animals he was always fascinated with. Though the ones on Midgard were usually smaller than those found on Asgard, but this was one was certainly different.

Not one for seeing a magnificent, dangerous creature like a wolf in pain, he moved in closer. But the wolf started snarling, showing her pearly whites at him.

‘I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to help. You won’t be able to do much with a broken leg.’ He spoke softly and crouched down to make himself look less intimidating.

The wolf was curious, wondering why he would want to help her. But his voice was weirdly soothing and his demeanour didn’t seem like he wanted to hurt her. But she was still on guard, growling low.

Loki moved in a little closer and reached out towards her, but she snapped towards his hand in warning. Snarling again.

‘Now, now. Stop that.’ He chastised firmly, and actually tapped her nose, startling her.

The wolf was surprised that he wasn’t scared of her. But that made her more wary of him. Especially when he then reached behind him.

But she started sniffing when he pulled a rabbit out from behind him and tossed it down on front of her. She was hungry, she hadn’t eaten in almost a day because of her injured leg. So she started to gobble up the rabbit.

Loki made use of her being distracted with the rabbit to gently put his hand over her leg. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his Seidr, sending healing energy into her leg and fixing her broken bones.

The pain of her bones moving made her whimper and bark. She was about to snap at him again but Loki was already finished and she suddenly felt no pain in her leg.

He sat back on his heels and watched as the wolf jumped up to her feet. She looked confused when she looked at her leg, then to Loki. But she was still eyeing him up warily.

‘That’s all I wanted to do, help you.’ Loki said as he put his hands up in defence and slowly got up to his feet, taking a step back.

The wolf grumbled low and picked up the rabbit she had been feasting on. With one last glance at Loki, she turned and ran off.

‘You’re welcome.’ Loki chuckled to himself.

He slung the remaining rabbits over his shoulder and carried on his way. ‘Good deed for the century done.’ He said to himself with a smile.

That evening Loki was reading by the fire, he was engrossed in his book but was pulled out from it when he sensed movement outside. Making a mental note of what page he was on, he put his book down and got up.

His senses were on high alert as he cautiously made his way over to the window to take a look. One of his daggers formed in his hand by his side as he looked out, but there was no sign of anyone. Still unsure, he went to the door and slowly opened it.

‘Who’s there?’

Movement to the right caught his eye, but when he looked over his eyes widened. It was the wolf from earlier, she had been hiding behind the log pile but made a dart for the trees after being spotted.

He frowned, his dagger disappearing from his hand upon learning what it was that was lurking around outside. He had been half tempted to run after her, but decided against it. Because the sun was just going down and as it did, his skin turned blue and he turned into his Jotun form.

‘Odd creature.’ He hummed to himself as he watched the wolf disappear through the trees.

When he went back inside, he had a feeling that wouldn’t be the last he would be seeing of the mysterious wolf.

#predator to prey #loki #tom hiddleston #fan fiction

185 notes · View notes

dumplingsspookysweeties · 4 years ago

Text

Naga bitty information

Here is the information on all the Naga (snake) bitties we have in the shop!

cut below for length

Moonjelly (Undertale Sans): a peaceful garden snake, Moonjellies tend to live near homes and businesses with gardens or window boxes. He likes to pick off vegetables and eat small insects or the occasional mouse that enters his territory. He’ll adjust well to human contact and will eat any unprocessed foods (fruits, vegetables, meat). Keep a sun lamp handy so he can warm himself, though he can survive without it. It’s more of a comfort thing.

Sunjelly (Undertale Papyrus): another garden variety naga, Sunjellies are even more easygoing than their matching brothers. He only eats leaves and vegetation, being too kind to hurt another being for their food. They do enjoy sparing with either each other or other bitties, but only until someone gets tired. He’ll eat fruit, nuts, and vegetables, and enjoy the sunlamp, but he’ll also need more direct attention and love.

Hisser (Underfell Sans): These snakes are more aggressive, but they’re primarily egg eaters. They tend to live in tree hollows, eating the eggs of nesting birds or the young of the squirrels that also nest around those areas. He’ll be perfectly happy with a couple of eggs from your fridge, and a warm spot in the house, but make sure he knows you want to be there for him or he’ll get hostile toward you. He only allows family or those he cares for to be close to him.

Merc (Underfell Papyrus): A mimic in facial structure for a venomous bitty, these snakes have large fangs despite being constrictors and egg eaters. His diet at home would mostly be a large egg and some bits of meat, and he’ll warm slowly to an owner who provides for him. To get him to like you better, keeping a clean home and letting him choose activities will go a long way.

Bushsnake (Underswap Sans): These naga bitties are rarely seen because they tend to hibernate most of the year. They live around berry bushes since berries are their main food source. A Bushsnake in a home will not hibernate since they only do this for the purpose of sleeping through between berry ripening seasons. They will be awake year round and energetic. Feed on berries and fruits, frozen or canned is fine. Very quick to bond with owners.

Mouser (Underswap Papyrus): These are found in barns and other areas frequented by mice. It’s not that they want to hurt the mice, but Mousers are smart enough to know humans see mice as pests and that keeping their population down helps keep humans away from him and from the areas where Bushsnakes tend to live. In a home setting, he’s fine with any unprocessed food, but will be partial to meat just because they’re used to it.

DarkMoon (Horrortale Sans): These are hunters and despite their small size, they’re a force of nature. He takes down things his own size or slightly bigger, including birds, rodents, and the young of bigger animals. He uses his limited magic to corral his prey, and he’ll use it to prank you until he gains respect for you. This is easy to do if you have a good supply of meat and let him feast as he wants for the first few days.

DarkSun (Horrortale Papyrus): A general omnivorous naga, he’ll eat anything he can manage to swallow. DarkSun’s tend to enjoy home life a great deal and become very attached to kindly and generous owners. Feed any unprocessed foods, and treat him with respect, and you’ll have a friend for life in a fortnight.

Diamond (HorrorSwap Sans): Named after the rattlesnake, these are actually constrictors. The name comes from the way they rattle their open ribs if threatened. They eat live prey, but are just as happy with frozen mice or meat chunks. Make sure to let them explore your body when they first get home, as they’ll be very curious about how a human or other monster is different from himself. Set your boundaries though, or he’ll go EVERYWHERE in his thirst for knowledge, and then he’ll be so embarrassed and ashamed when he finds out he invaded your privacy!

Treeboa (HorrorSwap Papyrus): tends to climb things, but is lazy and more likely to be an ambush predator. Enjoys eggs and birds, as well as small reptiles and mammals as prey. Will use you as a climbing post, but won’t hurt you unless you hurt him first. Climbing on you is a sign he’s accepted you as his owner.

Squeakers (HorrorFell Sans): Has the same problem with unintentional laughing and noises as all horrorfell sans types, but his come out as small squeaks. Will make these sounds even in his sleep, but if he is calm and happy it will be more rare than when he’s first getting used to his home. Omnivore, but leans towards meat in preferences.

Leader (HorrorFell Papyrus): One of the few venomous bitties, they tend to show their fangs in warning if they’re angry. He tends to stay in shady areas since he’s the most actively warm natured of the nagas. Eats meat of any kind, prefers whole prey. Will eat more if he has to defend himself and use venom.

Titan (UnderWorld Sans): prefers fish as food, and enjoys water. These are bigger than your average bitty by about an eighth of an inch around, and two inches longer. Their jaws work strangely, but they are generally peaceful and lazy.

Feeler (UnderWorld Papyrus): These naga bitties are fascinating and tend to eat small insects. They make their way around by magic sense alone, and enjoy having a companion to help them. They will also eat small pieces of meat, especially if it’s shredded.

Clicker (UnderWorldSwap Papyrus):

Clickers have the same mouth trouble as their legged counterparts, but it makes swallowing their preferred fruit diet all the easier. They’re usually found around fruit trees, especially when the fruit is falling. They can’t speak, but sign very well and will purr like most bitties when content and happy. They can be a bit of a scavenger, as they like and can easily eat fruit that is past its prime, so they sometimes end up a little drunk off fermented ones in the wild! Loves cuddling hands and fingers, curling all around them. They also tend to press their chests to palms, so you can feel their soul pulse. They want their owners to know they’re happy to be with them. this makes toys with holes they can slide through a definite must!

Goosey (UnderWorldSwap Sans):

They will naturally summons hands to sign like their legged counterpart. In the wild, they live off the mashed fruit their brothers tend to bring. If they don’t bring any, or there wasn’t a lot, sometimes the brothers feed them like birds. (it’s gross, but they mean it in love and don’t do so in a proper home setting. or anywhere else there’s adequate food) They have heat sensing capabilities, so they can get around fairly well on their own! They also enjoy finding (but not eating) small mammals and playing chase with them. This can be simulated by using craft puffs warmed in a microwave or oven

Caesar (FellSwap Red Sans): This is another little venom baby. He likes to hiss and present his fangs, but won’t use it unless he has no other choice. His venom is anticoagulant and corrosive, so you’ll bleed for a while after but it won’t kill you unless you already have a condition in a similar vein. He eats meat and will keep your house rodent free without prompting. Haughty and prideful, he’ll hold himself pretty highly, so it might take a bit to win his favor. Once you do, though, he’ll beg for your attention.

Berma (FellSwap Red Papyrus): A constrictor, he’ll curl up into a ball as a defense. Be gentle and soft with him, and he’ll uncurl and lean into your hand in no time. Loves any food, but will ask for sweets often, especially maple flavored. Amazingly heavy for his size since his magic is thick and powerful.

Milksnake (SwapFell Purple Sans): impusive, these little squeezers are energetic and quick to bite, but won’t put pressure on if they aren’t scared or angry. They tend to squiggle around everywhere, and will make a lot of messes in trying to explore, so just clean up after them and wait till they’re satisfied they know the house. Likes anything food wise.

Rain Viper (SwapFell Purple Papyrus): basically, feed them anything and they’ll be fine. It’s a good idea to be nice to them, since they’re venomous, but their chill nature will make up for any slip ups. He tends to try to trick you out of more food, but it’ll be fine. He may also try to take your jewelry if you have any, or your spare change if you don’t.

Wyrm (UnderTomb Sans):

These guys hide snacks in their ribs like all Undertomb Sans types, and love wiggling around and acting ‘spooky’ by hiding and jumping out at others He’s a heavy boy - they average around three pounds! Will hide in your clothes if it’s cold, especially if you’re still in them! He just wants to be warm, so a big blanket with a few hand warmers inside will be just as good. For food, they like meat of any kind, but can eat anything.

Knucker (UnderTomb Papyrus):

A Knucker likes to hide in burrows; this can be clothes, sand, dirt, cotton balls, anywhere narrow that he can hide in. Warning, this means he might do this inside your clothes if he gets in there! Just tell him about personal space and he’ll not get in there again. Like most Undertomb Papyri, he has a screechy voice, but enjoys attempting to sing. Extremely curious and limber, he’ll try and get into just about anything, no matter how high up! They usually grow to about three feet long! he’s a lot longer than he ever would be tall, but that’s something he enjoys! so many coils to dig himself into! As for their diets, they eat meat by choice, but can safely consume any food.

Reverie and Figment: (dream and nightmare)

With similar powers as their legged counterparts, these little snakes deal more with daydreams. Reverie will help you have productive daydreams that help you get ideas for work, or for any creative endeavors you have. Figment will deal with the intrusive thoughts side of daydreaming, reminding you (when he senses they occur) that those are not your true self or a reality you’re facing, but the odd misfiring of your mind. They both eat anything you’d enjoy, but always want to eat at the same time. carry two servings of any treats you bring with you.

WARNING: DO NOT SEPARATE THIS PAIR. THE FIGMENT WILL GO DARK!

Dark Figment:

this variety will also lose his eye and grow tendrils on his back when he goes Dark. A Dark Figment will become venomous, but with a highly hallucinogenic substance that also corrodes nerve endings painfully. The visions will be all your worst fears coming after you at once, and you will see yourself doing terrible things to the people you love most. If you survive the experience (which is a 75% chance) you will never trust your own mind again without intense therapy. If you choose to try and rehabilitate a Dark Figment, please use extreme caution, have experience with venomous snakes, and wear thick gloves and clothing when handling. Again, it will take years before he is Safe.

Clay (ink sans)-

His tail is long and thin, and his bones are etched with bas reliefs in the aztec style, which he likes to color with henna or other temporary dyes. He likes a balance of meat and vegetables in his diet and will happily cuddle or doodle with you anytime. He likes to use his namesake to make statues that he colors with his dyes.

Moccasin ( error sans) - requires antivenom in the starter kit. Tends to be one of the only Error types that doesn’t mind touch as much since he prefers his warmth to come from mammals than from an outside lamp or heater. Will substitute one of those ‘warm in the microwave’ plushies for their owner, though, if the owner has to leave. Prefers meat and fish for food.

#bitty info #bittybones #naga bitties

45 notes · View notes

imagine-loki · 5 years ago

Text

Predator to Prey, Chapter 1

TITLE: Predator to Prey CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki lives in exile on Midgard in a forest, he can’t leave the boundary. But every night when the sun goes down he turns into his Jotun form until the sun rises again. He meets a wolf one day and befriends her, gains her trust. But the wolf is no ordinary wolf… RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: Kinda non-con elements, more like really dub-con but not the main focus of this fic.

The woman grabbed her torn clothes and used what was left of them to hold against her body as she rushed for the door. But Loki was already there, opening it for her with a big grin on his face.