#or you fashion it from the remains of a creeper.. and you get a little window into what the Greater Code sounds like

[definitelynotshouting]

“The universe sings,” Grian said.

He sounds vaguely distant- like he’s speaking from hundreds of blocks away rather than right next to Mumbo.

He turns on his bed, slow halting movements, to face him.

“Did you know?”

Mumbo can only stare.

“…Sings?” He asks. He shifts on his chair.

Grian seems to want to nod, but aborts the motion halfway, and hums instead.

“Yeah. The code. It sings, if you listen close enough,” Grian mumbles.

Mumbo opens his mouth, then closes it again.

Grian exhales a long breath, and his eyes drift close.

“Can you hear it?”

Mumbo watches the way Grian’s chest rises and falls, shallowly, slowly.

He closes his eyes, and strains to hear.

He hears- Tango out in another room of the house, pacing circles around the kitchen. Mumbo can tell it’s Tango by the shuffle in his walk.

He can hear birds outside, twittering. Wind rustling through branches. An animal- a pig, maybe, trotting along some grass.

It’s quite calming really- but he doesn’t hear singing. At least, he doesn’t think he does?

When he opens his eyes again, it’s to Grian staring right at him.

Mumbo exhales in one sharp breath- he didn’t realise he’d stopped breathing- and meets Grian’s gaze.

“Did you mean like, actual singing or- or was that metaphorical? Because I can’t hear anything other than trees, mate,” he says, only half-joking.

Grian huffs a small laugh, and shakes his head.

“Nah, it’s not really singing-singing. It’s music, though. You’ve definitely heard some of it- discs. That’s the easiest way to hear it. But that’s- so few of what’s out there. There’s more music, if you know how to listen for it,” he hums. His eyes close again, and he leans more into the mattress.

Mumbo pauses, and thinks on that for a moment. Music discs, huh? He supposes it seems plausible, that there’d be more music out there.

But then why has he never heard it? Mumbo doesn’t ever recall hearing ‘the code sing’. If it’s tied into music discs, then is it naturally generated? Is hearing it a ‘watcher thing’?

Mumbo glances down at his hands, traces lines of dirt under his fingernails.

He nods, though Grian can’t see it anyway. He makes some vague ‘see you later’ comment he can’t bother to think about, and carefully gets to his feet.

At the doorframe, he peers back.

Grian lies there, breathing steadily.

Mumbo turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.

////

headcanon that the minecraft soundtrack can be heard in the code, but only if you're 'in harmony' with it. cue other headcanon of watchers being very aware of the code

HEY ANON. ANON. I ADORE THIS HOLY SHIT I FUCKING LOVE THIS HEADCANON???? The idea that the universe is constantly singing to itself, and you can hear that through the Greater Code if you really carefully listen, is something i lowkey want to canonize SO BADLY holy shit. And this is such a lovely snippet too, im always such a sucker for deeply layered conversations like this.... i adore how youve given so much depth to the sentence "the universe sings" and the implications of how and why Grian is hearing it so much right now. [THROWS UP BLOOD] IM OBSESSED.......

Also this Mumbo dialogue especially is on point youve done such a good job of capturing his little speech patterns :] STUNNING JOB ANON IM SO FLATTERED U WROTE THIS!!!!! I really think i might canonize this concept just for how absolutely amazing it is, im utterly obsessed with it

[this-is-sen-lin]

Memory Park

Originally written in November 2021 for HIST 502: Introduction to Public History.

Synopsis: Can history be neutral? How do we treat with the past? What should we do with all those old statues? Follow the groundskeeper of Memory Park, where the past stands at eye-level and the weeds are always hungry. 1227 words

The gravel crunches beneath your work boots as you make your way along the maintenance road. The pale sky hangs blue and orange-gold above you, the gathering clouds stained pink by the slow climb of the drowsy sun. Birdsong trickles out through the dense crowns of the trees. Long grass softly brushes your pantlegs. The chain-link fence that marks the edge of the service yard holds back a flood of shrubs, allowing them to thrust a few green stems through the gaps. The world in this hour feels softly hushed, and the gentle breeze carries the faint smells of crushed grass and rain. As you push through the gate in the wall of green, you’re reminded of a fact that the girl at the visitor center once shared with you.

  “Did you know,” she had said, “that people in Victorian times had picnics in cemeteries? Yeah, and the kids would play there too. Public parks weren’t really a thing back then. Cemeteries were the only green spaces they had.”

  You check in, fill a bucket with water, and load it onto the golf cart along with your tools. You sit down behind the wheel and take a moment to savor the cool of the morning before you start the engine. The cart jostles slightly as it rolls down a dirt path beneath the arching branches of the trees. The water in the bucket sloshes. As you roll past the EMPLOYEES ONLY sign, you make your plans for the morning.

  At Memory Park, your duties as groundskeeper are relatively light. You maintain the trails and pick up garbage, but there’s little in the way of landscaping to take care of. The county’s vision for the park was of a place where nature could take its course. “Rewilding”, you think, was the term they used. You remember a message in the guestbook colorfully describing it as “a place to watch plants swallow up the statues.”

  Oh, yeah. You take care of the statues too.

  Not too much care. Just enough to not make a statement.

  If such a thing were possible.

The dirt path leads you past the scattered statues, separated from each other by waving swaths of grass and wildflowers. Once, they may have stood on plinths, but now they rest with their feet on the ground, the same height as anybody else. Some of them have names: Forrest, Calhoun, Sherman, Junípero Serra. Others you can’t immediately recall, or had no names to begin with. Four young Confederates stand in a cluster beneath a maple tree, watching you pass with hollow eyes. One of them clutches his rifle with both hands, his head at his feet and the beginnings of a bird’s nest in the cradle of his neck. Other statues you pass stand half-cloaked in creepers, or speckled white on head and shoulders from bird droppings. These you do not clear away. Nature is taking its course.

Someone has spray-painted the word “MURDERER” onto the chest of an equestrian statue of Andrew Jackson. You stop the cart, get down, and inspect it. His eyes have been X-ed out in similar fashion, and various obscenities are painted on the sides of his horse. (What did the horse ever do?) Each stroke of red spray-paint seems to throb with the painter’s anger. There was vengeance in this gesture.

Nothing some soap and water can’t fix. You grab your bucket and sponge the paint away, as per protocol. The water runs red from between the fingers of your sponge-hand and pools at Jackson’s feet. You leave him to dry in the sun: there’s a lot more park left to cover.  

In the southeast section, you pick up the remains of a picnic left beneath a chasteberry tree.

In the southwest section, you pause at the edge of the pond to watch a heron fish.

In the northwest section, you come across a statue in the middle of a clearing. At the feet of the nameless Texas Ranger blooms a crop of American flags and red-white-and-blue pinwheels. A Beanie Baby rests in the crook of his arm as he reaches for his Walker Colt. You stand for a moment, watching the pinwheels turn and the flags flutter in the breeze. Pride and patriotism bubble up from the ground in this place.

After quickly glancing around, you gather up the items and place them in the back of the cart, as per protocol. The tiny yellow blooms they had hidden peep through the grass. The flags and pinwheels are still in good condition, and it seems a waste to throw them out. You consider donating them to the local daycare.

You spend a little more time on your rounds, picking up the odd bit of trash, as well as a sticker-covered Hydroflask for the lost-and-found. You take a short break at the northern edge of the park. Rolling hills stretch before you, the paintbox dripples and brushstrokes of summer wildflowers breaking up the waving expanse of green. Some rumors had been going around about expanding the park, and you imagine bronze soldiers and marble missionaries gazing at the hazy blue mountains beyond.

The last stop on your rounds is the front gate, which you unlock and push creakingly open before returning to your cart. You unpack a sack breakfast and a thermos of coffee. The wind pushes flocks of fattened clouds across the blue field of the sky, and you watch them for a while, your eyes watering slightly from the intensity of the color.

A slight rustling to your left draws your attention. You take another drink of coffee, then get up from your seat to investigate.

In the middle of a stand of trees, a man in shorts and a gray hiking jacket kneels at the base of a statue of Jefferson Davis. He’s taking a charcoal rubbing of the nameplate at the base. After a moment, he gets up and waves to you. “Are you the groundskeeper here?” he asks.

“Yep, that’s me,” you reply.

“I just wanted to thank you for what you’re doing,” says the man. He’s fair-skinned, with big, guileless blue eyes and a full, neatly trimmed brown beard. “Like, preserving all this stuff? That’s important. I mean, I’m no Confederate or anything but… this is history.”

“It sure is,” you reply. The man turns around and puts his hands on his hips to survey the grove.

“This is a good place,” he continues. “Lotta nature here. You know, I read on the Internet somewhere that it takes 40,000 years for a bronze statue to break down.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm.” He turns to face you, then glances back over his shoulder and adds, “’Let us cross over the river and rest in the shade of the trees.’”

You do not respond.

The man gives you a cheerful wave and starts to leave. You get closer to the statue and look at it for a little while. Your eyes are at the same level as Davis’s. The man has left his charcoal stick at the base, and you consider throwing it away as you pick it up.

Instead, you call after the man, “Hey, you forgot your charcoal,” and he thanks you as he takes it back.

You sit down at the base of the largest tree and linger for a while in the shade.

[thedummysdummy]

When Pampering is Required

This one is a little more uhem...mature in contents than most of the fics I've written. Just a fair warning!

Surely the clock had ground to a halt hours ago. 

At least, that's how it felt as the girl sighed and stared at the second hand to ensure it did, indeed, progress forward. Was there work to be done? Yes. Could it wait until tomorrow? Mostly yes. Was her patience at the end of its rope? 

Incredibly yes. 

Her fingers tapped repeatedly against the screen of her phone, which did not light up with any olive branch of rescue. Meanwhile, the newly-hired intern nervously clicked around the screen. Vivian really was doing fine…but the girl couldn't help the feelings of frustration from building up in her belly. It would be so much faster to accomplish these few tasks that couldn't wait another day if she did them herself! 

But that wouldn’t allow Vivian to learn her job, so here the girl sat. Another hour passed as a century before finally, the project was submitted and the pair were free. No sooner had the girl slid away from the desk than her phone screen lit up. Victor’s face filled the screen and she snatched the phone up eagerly. 

“Are you done?” 

Victor’s no-nonsense voice filled her ear, the sweetest sound she had heard all day. “Yes, we just pressed submit. You’re not standing around the corner watching me like a creeper, are you?” she teased, immediately feeling just a little lighter as his words lifted her like helium in a balloon. 

“No, I’m not. I’m leaving the office. Meet me at the door. I’m hanging up now.” The call cut off as Victor hung up abruptly. The girl laughed a little to herself, remembering how he used to end all of their calls in such a fashion. A wave of nostalgia lapped at the shores of her mind as she picked up her purse and began digging through it for her keys. 

Her hand did not remain inside long, however. A slippery wetness met her fingers and she pulled them out with a scowl. The strong scent of perfume filled the air and her irritation came rushing back. “Are you kidding me?!” she growled, dumping out the contents of the bag onto her desk and beginning to wipe the spilled perfume from the items. “My favorite scent, too.” A mournful look crossed her lips as she examined the broken lid and empty bottle. It was an expensive bottle that Victor had brought back from France last summer, and it had never failed to lift her spirits when she wore it. 

Until today. The overpowering amount of the fragrance held a bitter edge, souring her feelings of it. Many of her purse contents went in the waste bin and the rest went into the bag, which she’d have to clean later. 

In all the bustle of broken perfume, she had forgotten that her original task was to locate her keys. Which, she realized, had not been in the pile of things that came from the bag. She remembered using them to lock the door this morning, but then Victor drove her to work and the office door was already open. Had she had them at all today? A groan rumbled in her chest as she imagined them hanging in her doorknob, abandoned. She pulled out her phone and opened a contact. 

“Lucien, are you home? Can you check if I left my keys in the lock this morning? They aren’t in my bag and I don’t remember having them after leaving the apartment…” 

The reply came quickly, as if Lucien had been holding his phone already. “I was curious when you would realize you’d lost them. I saw them in the lock when I left for work this morning and put them safely in my pocket. I’m headed home now, so just knock on my door when you get back and I’ll return them.” 

Relief warmed her heart and she typed out a grateful message before slipping her phone into her pocket and again grabbing her smelly bag. Victor should be arriving any moment, so she hurried down the hall toward the elevator. Her phone buzzed and she pulled it back out, finding a text message from Victor. 

“Where are you? I don’t see you by the door.” 

“I’ll be out of the elevator in just a second,” she replied, pressing send just a few steps away from the elevator door. Texting and walking proved to be a little more than she could handle at that moment, however, as she stepped slightly wrong and her heel slipped. She hit the floor hard, landing on her ankle at an odd angle. Pain shot down her foot and up her leg, bringing tears to the corners of her eyes. She lay there for a few moments as the pain pulsed brightly, until it faded enough that she could pull herself back up. 

Lightning shot through the ankle when she put weight on it, but knowing Victor was waiting downstairs, she forced herself to walk onto the elevator, through the doors, and toward the familiar black car. Silent curses lingered on her lips with every step. 

Victor was still in the driver’s seat, tapping his thumbs on the top of the steering wheel. His eyes were dark and his lips drawn tightly into frown. It only deepened when the girl hobbled out of the building, obviously favoring her right foot. Victor sighed and unbuckled his seatbelt, hurrying to her side as the engine continued to rumble. “What did you do?” he growled, slipping the girl’s arm over his shoulders to take her weight off the foot. 

“I just twisted my ankle a little. It’s no big deal.” She gave Victor an unconvincing smile, which only resulted in a sigh from his lips. He helped her carefully into the car and returned to his own seat. 

The girl sat quietly in her seat, staring at the sunset with dark eyes and a vacant expression. Now that she had nothing to do but think, all of the annoyance from her day filled her top to bottom. A scowl flicked at the corners of her mouth. Victor glanced over at the building storm next to him and swallowed his own words. “You’re angry.” 

“That obvious?” she replied, reaching for his hand and gripping it tightly. Victor nodded with a half-chuckle, running his thumb over her knuckles. “Work was so boring I wanted to die again, then I discovered my favorite perfume bottle had broken and emptied all over my bag…which didn’t have the keys I was looking for in it. Thankfully Lucien found them, but then I twisted my ankle hurrying to get to you. And the bread I used this morning to make a sandwich for lunch was moldy so I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” 

Victor listened silently, allowing his love to get everything out. It wasn’t until she stopped speaking and panted as the anger pulsed through her that he squeezed her hand and flicked on the turn signal. “Then we are stopping at Delicioso on the way home for something to tide you over until we get home. What would you like? Take my phone from the center console and submit a pick up order while we drive there. You should have told me that you didn’t have anything for lunch. I would have sent Goldman to get you something.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you. I knew today was full of meetings and decided if you were too busy to text me first, then I shouldn’t text you about trivialities. I should have paid more attention this morning.” And not slept in…

Victor’s scowl deepened, but his voice remained carefully soft. “Dummy…No matter how ‘busy’ I may be, I’m never too busy to ensure that you have everything you need. Next time, make sure you take better care of yourself.” He handed the girl his phone and returned his attention to the road. 

The aroma of delicious food wafted around the car as they pulled into Victor’s driveway. The girl didn’t even bother questioning Victor; while she’d thought he was taking her to her apartment when he said ‘home,’ she wasn’t going to complain about spending the evening with him rather than alone. Victor gathered the bag of takeout and opened his door. “You wait here. I’m going to set this on the table, then I’ll be back to help you into the house.” 

“I am perfectly capable of walking,” she retorted, unbuckling her seatbelt defiantly. “I told you, I just twisted my ankle a little bit. I’ll be fine!” 

The words came out sharper with a stronger bite than she expected, and an immediate blush painted her cheeks. Victor sighed that sigh reserved for his dummy and strolled around to open her door. She exited the car and nearly crumpled as her ankle refused to take her weight. It pressed uncomfortably against the tall boots she wore; she could feel the swelling without having to see it. Yet she did her best to hide the sharp intake of breath which accompanied the pain and leaned heavily against Victor as they made their way up the drive. 

He patiently allowed the girl to hobble herself to the door, opened it, and placed the bag on the table. “Sit down and eat. I’m going to look at that ankle of yours.” Victor pulled out a chair and the girl sat, no argument escaping her as the savory scents of the food caused her mouth to water. Victor handed her a set of cutlery and she set about filling her stomach.

As she devoured her meal, Victor fetched a first aid kit from his bathroom and returned to her side. He knelt on one knee next to her and unzipped her boot before removing it very carefully. Even through her sock, he could see her ankle bulged as if a tennis ball had been inserted beneath the skin. Victor gently supported her foot as he slipped off the sock and revealed an ugly purple and swollen ankle. “Are you sure this isn’t broken?” he grumbled as he examined the wound. “I think we’re going to have to take you to the hospital to get an x-ray.” 

“Not tonight,” the girl pleaded, setting down her fork and staring Victor in the eyes. “If it’s still bad in the morning, then I’ll go. I promise!” 

Victor glanced at the door, the ankle, and back to the girl’s begging eyes. “Fine. But I’m taking you to get it examined in the morning whether you think it’s ‘better’ or not. Now finish your dinner.” He removed an ankle wrap from the kit and filled it with ice, wrapped it loosely around her ankle, and sat down to eat his own dinner. It wasn’t hot enough and bits had begun to go soggy, but he ate it quietly. 

Once their takeout containers were in the bin, Victor pulled a roll of gauze and medical tape from the kit. “I’m going to go run a bath. You sit on the couch and let the ice continue to work on the swelling until I get back.” 

The girl nodded and reclined on the sofa with her injured foot resting on the cushion in front of her. She definitely felt less cranky as the food entered her stomach, but that just left room for the pain to sink in. The sound of running water came from Victor’s bathroom and she considered limping over to the medicine cabinet for a painkiller, but no sooner had the thought crossed her mind than Victor arrived with a cup in one hand and pain pills in the other. “Take this. I’m sure that hurts,” he murmured, handing her the medicine before disappearing back into the bedroom. 

She took the medicine and placed the cup on the coffee table, leaned back, and closed her eyes. Weariness settled into her bones and she began to drift off. Before she knew it, Victor’s strong hands had lifted her into his arms and he was carrying her toward the bathroom. She snuggled in against his chest with a smile crossing her lips. His scent enveloped every corner of her world, wrapping her in warmth and happiness. 

Victor placed her on edge of the bed and began loosing the buttons of her blouse. Though her cheeks flushed, the girl made no effort to stop him. He pulled the blouse back and away from her arms, unfastened her bra, and moved on to her pants. “You are particularly bold tonight,” she teased, leaning backward to allow him easier access to the button. “I haven’t done anything that prohibits me from removing my own clothing for the bath.” 

The only response was a gruff grunt and a tug as Victor pulled her forward to stand against the bed. When she was properly prepared for the bath, Victor scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom. It was pleasantly steamy and the air carried the scent of lavender and pear. Rose petals floated on the surface of the fragrant water and steam rose in delicate tendrils. 

Her skin prickled as Victor lowered her into the tub and the hot water pulled the chill from her bare skin. She could feel the heat penetrating her body to her very core, eliciting a shiver which originated deep in her spine. A sigh of pleasure slipped from her lips and she leaned against the tub, eyes closing again. 

Next thing she knew, there was a soft splash and she felt herself sliding forward in the large tub. Victor settled in behind her and pulled her against his chest. A feeling of panic and embarrassment trampled her chest and cheeks for a moment, but it was quickly replaced by pleasure. Victor’s large hands settled on her shoulders and he began to massage, gentle at first with gradually increasing pressure. 

She leaned into him and rested her ear against his chest. “I will never get tired of listening to your heartbeat,” she murmured, her voice a bit sleepy. The hot water and massage had washed away any lingering ill feelings, leaving her feeling nothing but peace. Victor remained silent, massaging her neck and collarbone, biceps and forearms. 

The sound of water droplets made up the only sound for the longest time. So long that when Victor finally spoke, his voice startled her. “I want a massage too,” he said, his voice slightly petulant. She took a few moments to calm down before registering what he had said. Her eyes glanced up into his dark eyes, only just noticing the puffiness and darkness of the skin around them. Weariness hung heavy on his frame and she felt guilty that she hadn’t been able to see it through her own moodiness. 

“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?” she asked, turning around and pressing her back against the other end of the tub so Victor could turn and have his own shoulders rubbed. “You don’t have to fight me about admitting it.” 

He chuckled just a little and nodded. “Yes, it has been a very long and very difficult day.” 

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?! You just let me let you take care of me all evening without saying anything about having a hard day yourself!” She pouted as her hands pressed into his stiff shoulders. Multiple knotted muscles dotted his back and she patiently worked out each one. 

“You didn’t ask.” 

The answer was simple, but struck her right to her core. He was right…she had been so wrapped up in her own trivial bad day that she hadn’t even noticed how stiff Victor had been. His curt manner, his sighs, the darkened eyes and drawn face…she should have noticed all the classic signs of a worn-out and stressed Victor. Guilt bubbled in her stomach and she wrapped her arms tightly around his chest, pulling him closer. “I’m sorry, Victor. I am afraid I’ve been a terrible girlfriend tonight.” 

Victor shook his head and leaned it back against her shoulder. The weariness was so obvious now, as if he had removed all pretense now that she’d seen through his facade. She kissed his ears and proud cheeks, nibbled his collarbone, and intertwined their fingers. “I’m glad you didn’t fight me too hard about going to the hospital tonight. It’s because you’re so tired, isn’t it?” 

“Mhmm,” Victor replied, his eyes closed. “This is much better than sitting in the hospital after hours waiting room.” 

The girl couldn’t agree more. She rested her cheek against Victor’s temple and sighed. “I suppose we have to get out soon. The water is starting to get cold.” He mumbled something in response, and the girl realized that he was literally falling asleep against her chest. “I can’t lift you up to carry you to bed, though. You’re going to have to get up on your own,” she teased. 

Victor let out a long sigh and rose, dripping, to grab his towel. She blushed again and averted her eyes until he had the towel wrapped securely around his waist. “Come on, dummy. You best get out, too. You don’t need to catch a cold in addition to that ankle injury.” 

She nodded and lifted herself to the edge of the tub, pulling the plug as she did so. Victor handed her a towel which she used to quickly dry and wrap herself. No sooner had she secured the towel than Victor scooped her up again and carried her to the bed, pulled the silk pajamas he had purchased for her from his drawer, and handed them to her. 

“I’ll go get the wraps for your ankle and a brush for your hair. Get dressed, okay?” 

Victor disappeared again and the girl looked at the pajamas. Shaking her head, she instead reached for the nearest of his shirts and slipped it over her head. It settled pleasantly over her chilled skin and filled her nose with his scent. He always seemed to like when she wore his shirts to bed…

He indeed paused for a moment at the door, staring at her in his oversized shirt. “I guess it’s easier to get to your ankle without pants,” he murmured, again dropping to one knee next to her. His hands were tender as he wrapped and secured the dressing. It was just tight enough to give the ankle stability, but not so tight that it caused her any pain. In fact, the support brought immediate relief of a portion of the existing pain. 

“Thank you,” she whispered in Victor’s ear, causing goosebumps to pop up all over his body. He grunted and joined her in the bed, only a pair of boxers covering his own form. She settled in against his warm skin and allowed him to run the brush through her hair with a smile on her face. “Why did you insist on making sure all my worries were washed away tonight, while you have your own bothering you?” 

Victor continued quietly brushing her hair for a long moment. “You know why,” he finally replied. 

And she did. She knew that seeing her happy made him happy, so she put on the brightest smile she could find. “Well, you have succeeded in your mission. I’m one-hundred percent happy and relaxed now! So now it’s my turn to take care of you for a little while. After all, the boss deserves to be happy too.” She pulled the brush from his hand and began running it through Victor’s hair, caressing his bicep with her other hand. “Just close your eyes; let me make sure you don’t have any more knots and those shoulders of yours aren’t carrying anything else.” Victor didn’t argue; he simply smiled and laid against the woman he loved. She softly brushed her finger down his forehead and nose, slowing her pace gradually until Victor’s breathing evened and a soft, whistle-y snore filled her ears. She slid down into the bed and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. Victor’s breath was hot on her neck and made it slightly difficult to fall asleep, but the strength of his arms made her feel so safe that she soon drifted off as well.

[ask-de-writer]

THE PRICE OF AMBER : Part 22 of 23

This takes place shortly after MASTER SARGENT (RET.) WARRIN’S HEARTHWARMING  

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

THE PRICE OF AMBER

Part 22 of 23

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

29012 words

New to the story?  Read from the beginning HERE  

© 2020 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Inspired by a bit of silliness shared with

@frostlass-and-the-gang

All    rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or   to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the   express  written consent of the author.

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Users    of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They   may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright   information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original   characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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Hishine breathed a sigh of relief as his keys rattled in the lock of his shop.  Entering, he winced.  His show cases had all been broken and his strongbox had been forced.

Slump shouldered, tears in his eyes at the wanton destruction, he turned to Dawn Fire, “Knife Holder, I am sorry.  I did have such a stone as you wished to buy.  As you can see, even with the indemnity that I got, I may be out of business.”

He opened a door to a back room.  Though there had been some vandalism, he rummaged about and straightened things up.  As he placed the last things onto racks in an orderly fashion, he noted, “My equipment is all here.  If I could get more of the raw stock, I can cut and polish more stones.”

Dawn Fire gave a bit of an evil grin, his ears pointed like horns! “First, do you have any sort of inventory for what was taken? Second, this property was under the care and FULL FINANCIAL RESPONSIBILITY of Msgr Shire.  He has to make good the loss and damages!”

Hishine nodded slowly, “I see.  Yes, I can get the inventory.  I kept it at my lodgings to insure that a disaster or robbery at the shop could be documented for the Gandarmarie. “

“Wise of you, Hishine.  Get a cabinet worker to assess repair or replacement of your show cases.  Take the whole bill to the Shire bank.

“In the meantime, where can I obtain more of this amber for you to work?”

Hishine lowered his head a little in embarrassment.  “It is not too far from here.  There in the Weirdwood, I can show you the exact place, is a grove of Gumble Trees.  They not only drop the Gumble sap on whatever they feel is a threat, they can project it for a substantial distance.

“Whatever it hits, it encases in a lump of dull yellow gumble.  With proper treatment, cutting and polishing, it becomes the amber stones of my trade.”

Dawn Fire's wings were quivering with amusement.  “I take it that gathering the fallen gumble lumps is not so simple as it might seem!”

“Indeed. A number of ponies have died in that grove, trying to steal the gumble.  They get encased in it and then the grove absorbs them, gumble and all.  Sometimes, some of their equipment is left behind.”

Dawn Fire winced at the thought.  “How do you collect it then?”

Hishine chuckled, shaking his head sadly, “I don't.  Not any more.  I used to take a jointed rod with a rake end and a basket end to scoop up fallen gumble drops.  During my last two ventures, I nearly got taken myself.”

“I see.  If you knew what you were doing and the dangers, how did that happen?”

Hishine sat and found a bit of paper and a pencil.  He sketched as he explained, “The Gumble Grove is growing.  It sends vines out from its branches into nearby trees.  The vines drop creepers that take root to become narrow trunks that grow into new trees.  The vines look like this,” he pointed to his drawing, “and they can drop gumble on the unwary.  They are devilishly hard to see, too.”

“One last question, then.  How many of the drops catch bugs like the ones that I got from you before?”

Hishine leaned close and whispered conspiratorially, “I am giving away a deep secret with this.  Almost none have them.  I can see to the placing of the bug in the finished stone.  I have a nice middle sized dragon fly that can be set up, should you wish it.  The vandals missed my collection of dried bugs.”

Dawn Fire nearly doubled up laughing!  “Give me the collecting stick and I will see what may be done toward restocking your store!”

Following Hishine's directions, Dawn Fire ventured into the almost innocent looking Weirdwood.  He was well aware that it was no more innocent and no safer than the Everfree Forest of Equestria.  Some even said that there was some sort of hidden ways that connected the two and even other places about the world, all of ill repute, like these two.

The directions guided him without mishap to where he could see the Gumble Grove.  Well there was one small problem.  A quite large one for its kind, actually.  A horsefly!  The biting kind!  It was whurring as it buzzed about his head, trying to find a place to alight, long enough to deliver a painful bite!

He swatted at it repeatedly!  It dodged his flailing hoof with contemptuous ease!  He almost connected with it by swinging the folded collecting stick!  It dived, aiming for a sensitive ear!

Dawn Fire raised his lunch bag as an impromptu shield!

In the heat of battle with the bug, his hoof hit a gnarled root of the nearest Gumble Tree of the Grove! As he almost regained his balance, his enemy forced him to duck again! Already off balance, he toppled to the hard turf, lunch bag shield between him and the horsefly!

The poor sap was saved from the horsefly by a falling glob of yellow Gumble which hit and encased the vicious bug.  Dawn Fire scrambled frantically away from the deadly tree as more blobs of Magical Gumble fell!

One glob did hit his tail and partly encased it in solid Gumble Amber. He cautiously retrieved the collecting stick and, from safely out of the tree's danger zone, began collecting as many of the fallen drops and globs of the gumble resin as he could.  He was pleased to realize that he had obtained several kilograms of the raw amber resin.

He made his way back to the shop of Hishine.  “This is a wonderful lot, Knife Bearer!  With this, I can easily prepare the dragon fly stone that you want!”

“I hoped that you could!  This large lump has a really pesky horsefly in it!

“On a related note, can you get this out of my flank fur and tail?”

Hishine snorted, “By a number of means, all fun and amusing to watch. Embarrassing to experience, however.”  Going serious, he replied, “Yes.  It is not even difficult.  We just need a little cooking oil.  You will want a bath afterwards, though.”

Dawn Fire luxuriated in the bathing tub of the Three Little Pigs inn. Fleur laid on coffee and a pile of pastries set on a side table in easy reach of the bather.

“Good Sir, we are all so grateful for the miracle that you have worked!  We were in despair, most of the village's businesses were due to be closed.  The bank's agents made it clear that my friends would be working for slave wages in the businesses that they had owned.  None could understand how they had become so far into debit.”

As Dawn Fire sat in the tub and sucked down coffee and nibbled another croissant, he replied, “That is because they were not in debit. That conversion trick from Note of Payment to debit was simple fraud. I have heard from my connections that Msgr Shire has pled that he was forced to do it by the Duke.  He was clever enough to have papers that make it appear to be true.  They MIGHT even be genuine.”

Fleur giggled, “We of the town think not.  We are actively seeking another bank.   An honest one, if we can find it!”

Dinner was accompanied by almost every pony in Sudanweird crowded into the big tap room!  Dawn Fire had to plead, “I can't eat all of this!  I will be too heavy to fly for a week!”

In the morning, Fleur had his bowl of oat and barley gruel, with strawberries awaiting him.  And a plate of waffles with chocolate sauce and whipped cream!  And her endless and excellent coffee!

As he was leaving, she asked, “Sir, will you ever return to Sudanweird?  Know that if you do, your welcome here is assured.”

He bowed to her as he replied, “I do not know, Good Fleur.  I would like to return with no Royal errand or wrongs to right.  Your hospitality has been beyond compare.  Are you sure that you will take no money for my stay?  I do have it.”

“Good Sir, I doubt that your gold is good anywhere in this village.  We are that grateful for the good that you have done us.”

He strolled up the way to Hishine's shop.  The door was open and he could hear the sound of tools working wood.  Entering, he saw that Hishine had been busy last night.  One of his show cases was fully repaired and the cabinet worker was fixing another.  Wood shavings and sawdust littered the floor.

The repaired case had a dozen lovely golden glowing amber stones laid out to be seen behind the crystal clear glass.

A smiling Mister Hishine greeted him, “Knife Bearer!  I have your special order ready, right here!”  He pushed forward a larger case and a somewhat smaller one.

Opening the larger case, Dawn Fire beheld a lovely perfectly cut amber stone, glowing with a pool of golden light.  Trapped in it, perfectly centered, was a modest sized dragon fly, wings spread and body showing iridescent green!  Dawn Fire's breath was taken away by the excellence of of it!

“What is this other one?  I only ordered this and it is perfect.  What do I owe you for it?”

Seriously, Mister Hishine replied, “You have paid me already.  You restored my shop and home.  You brought me a supply of amber to get my shop started.”  He smiled jubilantly as he added, “And you got that crooked Duke jailed!”

He pushed the smaller box forward.  “This is yours with my thanks. Please take it.”

Dawn Fire opened the case.  There, trapped for all time, preserved exactly as it had been was a big horsefly, forever on the attack!  The stone was finished with as much care as the other.

Nodding, Dawn Fire accepted the tribute!  He snickered, “You won't have my money, fine.  I do have something else that you did like last time that I was here!”

Opening his travel carrying box, he poured out onto the counter the whole small chest of Rom Ka'chek pastries!  There were apricot, peach and some berry ones!  

Eyes wide and mouth drooling, Mister Hishine nodded, “I can take these! Thank you!”

Dawn Fire swept the boxes with their stones of amber into the travel case, bowed to Mister Hishine, who was already nibbling at an apricot Ka'chek, and took his leave.

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS ~~ NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (March 3/2021) -     The Burger is a Lie

Tubbo moves past the denial stage of grief into anger. After creating a grave for Tommy, he decides that someone needs to be held accountable.

It’s time for some good old-fashioned detective work.

---

VOD LINKS:

[Ponk’s VOD was deleted so unfortunately I can’t recap it since I didn’t see it :( ]

Tubbo

Foolish

Awesamdude

Captain Puffy

Ranboo

---

- Tubbo walks down the Prime Path with plans to build Tommy a grave in Snowchester. 

- He doesn’t even know why or how it happened. Why was Tommy in prison?

“I want to blame someone -- I’m angry! Who’s to blame?”

- He wonders who set off the TNT to trap Tommy in there.

- Tubbo reaches Snowchester and finds a small ice island just outside the border to set up a gravesite. He makes a patch of grass, a wooden bench, puts down some flowers. He makes the gravestone out of wood.

“Tommy’s favorite block was literally oak wood. (laughs) He was a simple person, chat. He was a simple person.”

- He places a sign.

“In the Memory of Tommy. He was taken from us too soon.”

- He puts cobblestone around, and puts down a jukebox.

“This was meant to give closure, chat. This was meant to just give closure, but instead I’m just feeling more and more mad."

- Tubbo places down some lanterns and a Prime Log. He has a moment on the bench.

“Alright...so...what now? I’m pissed, dude. I don’t know how this was allowed to happen. I don’t know how this was allowed to happen. Receive his stuff from the prison -- no, I’m not going in that thing for a very long time.”

- He decides he needs someone to be held accountable. He wants to launch an investigation.

- He goes under the McPuffy’s and plans to make a little room to gather all the information in one place, and also a place to go in an emergency. Like a panic room or a bunker. No one should know about it until they have enough information to convict someone.

Tubbo starts building.

- He doesn’t even want to go into Tommy’s house, not even for supplies.

- He grabs a lectern for the room and starts writing. A storyline is needed.

The Crime:

- Murder

The Timeline:

- Tommy Visits Dream.

- Bomb gets set off.

- Tommy was Trapped with Dream.

- Tommy is The Crime is committed.

- Start with number two...where? Where were the bombs set off? Because if it was all a ploy, then Sam is the one to be held accountable. 

- Tubbo goes to the prison to check around the perimeter. The sound of the bombs came from above, but Tubbo remains skeptical. That could have been a ploy to cover up the tracks.

- Tubbo finds a patch of the shoreline where a water level is missing. He assumes that someone was just gathering sand there, not that it’s explosion damage.

- Tubbo flies onto the top of the prison and notices that there’s snow missing where the snow biome should encompass. A small area of a few blocks -- they must have been tampered with. Tubbo documents the evidence.

Evidence:

Tommy was trapped inside because of an explosion “outside” ..

Around the outside of “Pandora’s Vault” there was no evidence of explosion damage.

However on the roof of the Vault there is evidence of an explosion. We can tell this because of the snow pattern on the roof of the prison.

However snow can be broken by TNT from inside the Vault. But I suspect that the TNT was detonated outside.

- Now, Tubbo needs to go and find out who has access to stocks of TNT. Who has the majority of the world’s TNT? Well, there was a country that used to exist on this server. And who was responsible for its destruction? 

Tubbo visits L’manhole.

“Technoblade, Dream, and Philza. Suspects number two. We’ve moved on from Sam. Suspects number two and three, sorry -- Technoblade and Phil.”

“Everyone’s a suspect, chat. Guilty until proven innocent, I’ve always said.”

- And doesn’t Technoblade owe Dream a favor? Tubbo declares him suspect two.

- Tubbo runs to Technoblade’s house. There’s not much of anything out of the ordinary.

- He goes inside and looks through the chest, finding one with plenty of gunpowder, about half full. What looks off about it, though? What is missing here?

“Chat, where is the rest of the gunpowder, chat? Where is the rest of the gunpowder? It’s a fair question...Techno uses it for potions? No, no, hear me out. If chest was at least filled up to here, okay, that is four stacks and a half of gunpowder, okay? Each gunpowder is three splash potions. Three splash potions. So that’s over twelve stacks of potions! Potions that are not stackable! And in this establishment, there are not enough chests to hold twelve lots of sixty-four un-stackable potions. Rockets? Yeah, that’s another good call. What else is a good call? TNT. Let’s keep looking.”

- He continues to look through the chests, then exits. Suspect two has all of the materials to commit the crime.

- Suspect three? No sand, not enough gunpowder.

- He starts to leave.

“‘Check Ranboo?’ I mean it’s not gonna be Ranboo, is it? It’s not gonna be Ranboo. Yeah, he has access to all the stuff, but I doubt he even remembers it’s there..."

- He does a quick search anyway. The person who committed the crime must have not been prepared. They gathered the sand outside of the prison -- that’s what the missing shoreline must have meant.

- He notices Ranboo’s plan signs and reads them. He goes down into the basement but the vault door is shut, so he doesn’t find it. He assumes chat is talking about Pandora’s Vault.

“There is sand that has been mined outside the prison. The TNT was crafted rash. Technoblade doesn’t do rash, he does planned and calculated. Suspect two, three and four. I’m gonna presume they’re innocent right now, except for suspect two.”

- Technoblade could’ve supplied someone else with gunpowder. He wasn’t online during the explosion, but who was? Foolish and Ranboo.

“‘Big Law?’ Yeah, I’m back. I’m back in it again. I suppose you could say that...I’m on my A game right now.”

- Was Jack Manifold online at the time? No. Just Ranboo, Foolish, Dream, Tommy and Sam. Foolish lives in a desert. There’s a vast supply of sand in a desert...but was he streaming at the time?

- This does not look good for suspect number four...

- He returns to the bunker to get his evidence straight and places down signs.

Who Caused the Explosion?

Techno Owes Dream A Favor

Techno Has Gunpowder Missing

Sand Disturbed Outside The Vault

Techno Was Not Online @ The Time Of Explosion

Ranboo & Foolish Were Online @ TOM [time of explosion]

Foolish has access to sand

Ranboo has access to gunpowder

Sam lock Tommy In The Vault

Dream is in the Vault

TO DO:

Find out who visited Dream

Interview more players to get big picture

- Who visited Dream? So far, Tubbo only knows Tommy. Who else would ever want to visit Dream except for Tommy? 

- A dono leads Tubbo to realize that TNT can be planted beforehand with a timer. Sam could have planted the TNT with a timer. It could have all been Sam. It could have even been Dream with a contingency plan...but how could he have known Tommy would visit? Because of the favor? Did Techno convince Tommy to visit?

Why did Tommy visit Dream? Closure? Did anyone give him that idea?

- Tubbo decides he just needs more information.

- He sees the McPuffy’s...is it a coincidence that, as soon as Tommy got put in prison...burger shops started popping up on the Dream SMP?

- Maybe this happened because of the BURGERS.

- Could it have been Jack Manifold, wanting the hotel for himself? 

“Nah, Jack’s way too dumb for that.”

“The burger is a lie!”

- Maybe the Egg has something to do with it? Tubbo goes down into the Egg Room and shouts at the Egg to ask for answers. He leaves the Egg Room with no more answers, wondering if he’s about to leave the anger phase and head into bargaining instead.

- Ranboo works on his Conflict Resolution Pit after months, planning to finally finish it at long last.

- Ranboo looks at the chest by the pit and finds...a Manberg war shield? Whose is that? He isn’t sure what the shield means.

[Fun Fact: According to Karl about the banner’s design, the black represents all the colors combined, meaning “Unity.” The red is “the blood of our enemies.”

“It’s unity unless you go against us.”]

- Ranboo continues resource-gathering and building.

- Sam works on his creeper farm! He also answers several questions. Here are a few!:

* Are Sam Nook, warden Sam and Awesamdude all different people? 

Sam Nook and warden Sam are different people, but the warden is not a separate character from normal Awesamdude. They are the same person. Sam Nook is the only separate character. This will be explained more in the future!

* Why is Sam’s pickaxe named “Warden’s Will Breaker?” Does it have anything to do with breaking the prisoner’s will? 

“Mayhaps, mayhaps...”

* Isn’t it a little strange that he’s building a creeper farm? 

“Well, I’m the king of creepers so they should be excited to die for me.”

- Ranboo asks if he can shoot Sam. Sam says yes (in game)

- Ranboo shoots Sam in the face. Sam turns majestically and stops moving. Ranboo is confused and is worried that Sam might not be alive. Sam’s computer is suffering.

- Ranboo tries to get Sam to move.

“Oh my god he’s been completely paralyzationizitated.”

- By Sam’s request, Ranboo tries to push him to safety.

- Sam has been bound to the y-axis! He starts seeing through Ranboo’s stream.

- Ranboo tries to drive Sam in a boat but he starts seeing colors. 

- Sam dies on the Prime Path. Ranboo makes a marker sign in remembrance of where he died by paralyzationizitation. 

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[skybiome]

My life, freely given.

tw: panic attack, narration that implies suicidal thinking

---

Techno rubs at the bracelet on his right wrist. Everyone on the server has one. It's a plain, black metal band with three green gems set into it. Well, they start with three gems. Not everyone has three any more.

Death is common on the server. Hell, Techno’s communicator has been alerting him of Quackity dying about once every couple of hours to creepers for the last few days. But normal dying and respawning wasn’t enough for this server. No. In Dream’s own words, if someone died in a ‘plot important fashion’, it sticks. And if they die three times, they might not come back. 

That’s what had happened to Wilbur. The black band is still on Ghostbur's wrist every time Techno sees him, but the gems are cracked and grayed out. The same goes for two of the stones on Tommy’s bracelet. 

Techno reaches into his inventory and pulls out an iron dagger. It’s edge is dulled, mostly because he uses it to make cuts in planks of wood when bored, but he found something interesting a few days ago. Carefully, he sticks the tip of the dagger under the edge of his leftmost gemstone. A little wiggle and it pops out of its setting.

A shiver runs down his spine, despite his heavy winter gear. Techno holds the life in his hand. It’s warm and fragile. He closes his fist around the gem as Tommy’s yelling echos up from his space below Techno’s house. 

The older sibling closes his eyes, sighs, and lets his head thump against the wall behind him. He’s glad that his little brother couldn’t hear the war that his logic and emotions were fighting between his ears. Only the stragglers of the war fought now, with the leading ideals already having come to an agreement and made peace.

Allies are always good, especially if it meant that his family stayed safe. Techno rubs his thumb over the green gem once more. He stood up from where he was sitting on the crafting table and climbed down the ladders to Tommy’s room. 

“Heyyyyy, Big T!”

Techno feels a smile slide onto his face. He let it. Tommy is now wearing an antarctic empire uniform. He didn’t need to know that Techno had stayed up for 3 days straight to finish it after he’d first realized that Tommy was staying with him. It was much better suited for the cold weather than the scraps of clothing that his little brother had shown up wearing. 

“Hey, Tommy.” His boots land heavy on the concrete. Tommy didn’t like it when he was silent around the house, so Techno has been putting an effort to go against his instinct and start making noise while traversing the cottage. 

Tommy sits up from where he’d been reclining on his bed. “What’re we doing today?”

“You aren’t doing much.” Techno raises his hand to cut off Tommy’s protests. “I’m going to go to L’manberg later, but you can stay here and take care of the turtles and bees. Can I see your arm?”

Tommy frowns, but holds his arm out to Techno.

“Other one.”

Tommy swaps arms, and Techno rolls up his brother’s sleeve, revealing the band on his wrist. The elder reaches into his inventory and pulls out the knife. He stops when Tommy yanks his arm out of his gentle grip. His little brother slams into the cobblestone with enough force to make Techno flinch. 

Techno’s eyes widen to match the dinner plates of his brother’s. Carefully, he sets the knife down on the floor, and shows Tommy that his hands are empty. Techno can see tremors running through Tommy’s form, even through his layers of clothing. His breath is coming in short, raspy gasps

Techno purposely softens his voice and face, apologizing and saying, “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you what I was doing. It won’t happen again.”

Tommy blinks a few times. He blinks again and actually sees his brother instead of someone else. The tension syphons out of his shoulders and Tommy averts his gaze from Techno, shrinking into himself even more. His breathing is still shaky and uneven.

“I’m sorry.”

Techno shook his head and lowered his hands, but keeping them in Tommy’s view. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Tommy. I promise.” He ignored the dampness around his brother’s eyes.

Tommy doesn’t say anything, but he does swallow and unclench his jaw. 

“Can I see your arm again? I won’t hurt you.”

Again, Tommy says nothing. He holds his arm out to Techno, eyes closed, and lets a harsh breath out through his nose, like he’s bracing for something to hurt him. 

Techno retrieves the dagger from the floor. Carefully, he turns Tommy’s arm over so that the lives on his bracelet are visible. Two of the gemstones are cracked and gray, stark in contrast to the one green gem, the boy’s one remaining life. Pressing the tip of the blade one of the lost lives’ edges, Techno removes it. He slips the life he took from himself into the notch on Tommy’s wrist. 

The older brother knows it’s worked when the younger inhales sharply, eyes snapping open. Techno lets go as Tommy withdraws his arm. He stares at the gem with wide eyes. 

Tommy’s breath grows unsteady, and he starts shaking again. He’s clutching his right wrist with his left hand. There are tears in his eyes, but a grin is splitting his face. Before Techno can even open his mouth, Tommy’s arms are wrapped around him.  

With a flick of the wrist, the dagger is out of Techno’s hand and in his hotbar. Techno doesn’t register what Tommy is doing, but he knows he shouldn’t have the weapon that close to him. A second later, he feels that Tommy is shuttering against his chest. Techno hesitates, and then returns the hug. They stay there for a minute, Tommy rattling in Techno’s arm’s, face buried in the fur of brother’s cape.

Tommy breaks the embrace first. He shoots upright, one hand on Techno’s shoulder and the other wiping tears off his cheeks. He’s so ecstatic that he’s tripping over his words.

“Techno Techno Techno where did you- how did you- how did you get this?” Tommy’s gaze is bouncing between his brother and the new life he’s been given. He grips his wrist and pushes the gemstone into Techno’s face, like he wasn’t just the one who'd given it to him. “Where did you get this?”

Techno lifts his wrist, showing Tommy his bracelet. “I gave you one of mine.”

Something in his chest grows cold as Tommy’s expression falls. Tommy freezes, and then starts clawing at his wrist. Techno lunges forward, grabbing Tommy by the wrist. He cringes as Tommy freezes in his grasp. A moment later, Tommy shakes it off, and fights against Techno.

“I can’t take this, Techno.” Tommy’s eyes are frantic and his breathing is picking up again.

“You aren’t taking it, Tommy. I’m giving it to you.”

Tommy stops fighting his brother’s hold. Techno can still see his hands twitching, wanting to pull the live out of himself.

“Tommy, look at me.”

After a moment of staring at the band on his wrist, Tommy turns his head towards Techno. He’s looking at his brother’s face, but won’t look him in the eyes. 

“You’re not taking anything from me.” Techno removes a hand from Tommy’s wrist and sets it under his brother’s chin. Gently, Techno lifted Tommy’s gaze until their eyes met. “This is my life, freely given to you. I expect nothing in return, except for you to use it to its fullest. Do you understand?”

Tommy blinks, with tears in his eyes. “Yeah,” he croaked.

“Good.” Techno nods and releases Tommy’s other wrist. He hesitates, and then rustles his hand through his brother’s hair. Tommy jumps at the contact. He blinks twice. A smile breaks onto his face, and he lets out the most infectious laughter that Techno knows. Techno joins in. Next thing he knows, Tommy is moving past him and already halfway up the ladder, yelling, “Now we’re on even playing fields!”

Techno barks a laugh and follows after his brother into their home. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Tommy.”

“Yes it is!” 

Techno can hear his chests opening and closing, and let himself indulge in the warm feeling in his chest. Tommy’s starting to recover, and he’s going to help his brother however he can. He thumbs the empty spot on his band, and then moves onto one of his two remaining lives. Phil’s band only had space for one life, but there was someone Tommy cared about who was in danger. But that could wait a few days. Right now, he wants to spend time with his brother.

Even if it involves a lot of cobblestone towers on his front lawn. 

[daimonhalos]

More Badlands headcanons: the prequel

I return from the grave to lay upon ye my newfound knowledge: so I was just doodling a sad bbh, then he started looking more like child bbh and it turned into a comic of Bad meeting the other three for the first time and eventually I came up with a sort of backstory for bbh and some initial bonding for the badlands LET'S GET INTO IT

(this is all /rp)

So life in the nether certainly wasn't easy and bad's childhood was definitely fucked up.

One day he had walked away for five minutes from home and returns to it being burnt down and his parents on the ground, stabbed to death.

Baby Bad did n ot have the same attire. His current scarf, he took it from his mom when she died, whilst the sword comes from his dad. That's why he never upgraded from a diamond sword to a netherite one.

Before they died, he had 3 halos, two disappeared after they did and one remained broken until he got over them passing away.

As a kid he had more devilish wings, which became normal angel/feathered wings a little after his parents' death. It had been said that his family had a toll on their heads and only once someone else's vengeance was completed (killing said family), his features would've gone back to the way his species used to be. He wasn't sure much had changed.

(Also sidenote, for once he's on the other side: literally every bad thing reminds him of his childhood in the nether so at least for the first few centuries he's always absolutely nice to people)

Then he goes wild with chaos when hes more comfy and has friends ♥

Once grown up and confident, despite everything he'd heard about the overworld, he decides to find a portal and cross it.

Of course, when he crosses, he is immediately met with three complete strangers staring right back at him, entirely different from what people had told him: there's a biped cat, a diamond person and a creeper hybrid, still staring and blinking at him, quite surprised.

The three immediately notice how he's immediately on the defensive, guarding instead of attacking them immediately

So they understand he doesn't mean bad and they also understand it's his first time out of the nether because of the way he needs to adjust to the sunlight which is the same skeppy had the first time out of the underground (he only ever lived in caves so underground, max/min y levels where u find diamonds.

They take o n e look at bad and go "holy shit. We need to adopt this guy quick"

Bonus: "okay. GOTTA protect this dude at a l l costs. He might be 3 meters tall demon, but he looks sad so he needs to be PROTECTED RIGHT NOW-"

Sam ant and skeppy are in fact together already which means they already are found family tm so they already got each other and helped each other in the past.

Hold the fuck up this is beautiful because. Creepers can spawn or stay in mines WHERE DIAMONDS ARE

creepers can be on the ground as well where CATS ARE BUT THEY'RE AFRAID OF CATS THIS IS ACTUALLY SO GOOD pardon my enthusiasm i had an epiphany

Hence their small backstory: Sam finds skeppy first, then he loses skeppy as the latter freaking bolts around in the overworld for the first time.

Skeppy finds ant and brings him to Sam and Sam is like Oh GOD PLEASE NONONO "Can we keep him" "NO." "Im right here" "he TALKS?"And transforms to his humanoid vers

Actually they keep Ant for a week before he speaks for real because skeppy wants to prank sam

One night a skelly shoots an arrow at ant and Sam has been protective over the two ever since (they are brothers your honor)

Sam stopped sizzling everytime ant is nearby ♡

Skeppy does not feel hot nor cold

He's simply an unbothered king about temperatures ♡

Thats why he wears a crop top anything for fashion,,,/hj (granted to u guys by the great @azaethal)

"We're in a snow biome at least pretend you're cold"" f a s h u n "

"Hey Sam do u think ants like. Constantly naked" "Skeppy it's Four IN THE MORNING. GO. TO sleep" "He has fur in his cat form I know but like. He's basically naked right" "For fucks sake-"

Lol get skepped

It's a blessing when they adopt bad in their friend group cause skeppy finally has a new victim and Sam and ant have some rest. Bad falls for every single prank of skeppy.

The moment skeppy finds out he doesn't swear it's over for you bitches

Then the next problem is when they get into fights and become petty and don't talk to each other like literal kids

Ant and Sam stand there like how does this diamond block fuckin have the guts to yell at a 9 feet tall demon what the f u ck

Is anyone going to make fun of this demon?? Bet. (courtesy of @azaethal)

And that's how our boys know. They just know bad and skeppy are gonna be loooong time friends

ONE DAY THEY'RE LIKE

"YO GUESS WHAT WE JUST DID SOMETHING S I C K"

"WE JUST LINKED OUR SOULS TOGETHER"

"What the ACTUAL F-"

They say it was just for the meme

Deep down they know it's because they got an unbreakable bond

When he joins his soul with skeppy's, the second halo comes back to him. The third will when he finds sapnap and decides to make him his son and take him away from there.

Don't have anything else yet but will add up as soon as I do owo

[ae0nx]

FRUITS BASKET S3 EPISODE 8 RECAP AKA THE KYORU CHRONICLES PART 2 (plus a quick recap of eps 3-7)

aaaaaaAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!! I gotta get it out of me otherwise I won't be able to concentrate on work and I will be scrolling through the tag till the day I die. Everything from episode 3 of Season 3 literally hit me like an avalanche - literally cos I marathoned 3-7 over the weekend which I wouldn't advise unless you want an accelerated heartbeat - and I'm starting to realise... maybe I just wasn't ready for season 3. Despite asking for it, haha. Not gonna put as many screencaps for this one cos tumblr editing bay be trippin and I just don't have time nor emotional energy to be fighting with the picture uploads, sorry lol

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Episodes 3 - 7

I spoke before about how (despite my feelings about the characters) the English dub VAs for Akito and Shigure pair up really well audibly. And I think I feel the same way about both Yuki and Machi's English VAs! They both have the same soft spoken yet scratchy element to their voices almost like they are holding slightly back. Although, I'd argue that Yuki has been losing the element of slightly holding back as the anime has gone on which I wonder if the same would be included for Machi's performance?

I really like the presentation of Machi's trauma through her family's expectations to be perfect and how physical it is? How Yuki kind of encourages her to let it out in a healthy way? (Btw the whole chalk breaking scene in the meeting was SO FUCKING SMOOTH. YUKI IS A NERD BUT HE IS SO EFFORTLESSLY COOL A LOT OF THE TIME)

The age gap between Isuzu and Haru for sure isn't the worst age gap in this anime/manga but it's still a bit... hmm...

Episode 4:

In all seriousness, I know Akito deserves some sympathy but it doesn't change the fact that I still see her as a villain. Hurt people hurt people but it doesn't mean they should get away with it, I was honestly pleased Haru got that big confrontation with Akito to tell her WHAT'S WHAT but it was also somewhat... merciful?

Hiro's growth has been so beautiful to see, him realising there are bigger things than him from the event with Rin to his relationship with Kisa to then the birth of his little sister.

Kureno choosing to get his hands a little dirtier and paying the ultimate price for it (as far as we know so far in the anime lol) was great, he is the moon side of Tohru's sunshine.

Shigure... I still don't really get him and Akito's relationship. It's clear he's waiting for Akito to grow the fuck up but at the same time he's not creating an environment for her to grow and develop. He's decided to go with the 'tough love' route which I'm still deciding whether I like it or not tbh. Sometimes it feels necessary, at other times it feels shitty. I respect that he knows he's a scumbag and I don't deny that there are people out there who take revelry in the fact that they are awful but at the same time, him remaining unchanging despite everything feels... unrealistic. But considering throughout this story he doesn't seem affected by trauma, it's understandable, I guess?

Also... that scene where Shigure ponders about whether he should've been with Tohru is THE creepiest creeper shit he's EVER done in this series. No. 🙅🏾‍♀️

Momiji is best bunny boi regardless of how tall and 'manly' he becomes. 🐰His scene with Akito was so authentically him and he really did that shit. We love him. <3

I love the way that the curse breaking should (on surface) be a happy event considering all the trauma the zodiac went through because of it but it's presented mostly as loss as well as happiness. It's the realness of getting out of a bad relationship

Shigure basically laying it out to Tohru how Kyo means nothing in a very taunting way was an excellently painful scene and I choose violence. It was heartbreaking seeing how worthless they all saw Kyo compared to how Tohru saw him but... by this point I was just living in the pain so 🤷🏾‍♀️

The story visually showing how Isuzu is more willing to be soft after her whole ordeal through her fashion choices (e.g. the pastels, the cardigans) was really nice. And Haru being happy about Isuzu making friends with Tohru was cute!

It was nice we saw that Kazuma was still wary about whether Tohru loved Kyo for the right reasons, you'd assume after everything Kazuma would love Tohru as a match for Kyo but he's so emotionally intelligent and also just a protective Dad! Yay, good parenting!

Tohru's confession to loving Kyo was amazing however I still adore Kyo's confession a little bit more. Just a bit. Lol. However, if you add the moment later in episode 8 it trumps it completely. Ethereal goddess.

Kyo and Tohru's grandfather having a scene together was great and nice

Now that I think about it, I wish there was more a visual link in the story between Tohru adapting her speech to imitate her Dad and Momiji adopting his Mum's German accent. Albeit for slightly different reasons, it just adds to the unique connection Tohru and Momiji have. In short, I'm seeing this ship with my third eye now. I get it lol

I don't wanna screencap the scene where Kyo is haunted by both his deceased mother and deceased Kyoko and potentially deceased Tohru because it's the stuff of nightmares. But, it was a wonderfully done scene. You definitely understand fully and clearly why Kyo buried all of that trauma under his hatred for Yuki (I CAN'T WAIT FOR EPISODE 9, YOU GUISE!)

If Akito is a villain, Ren is the final boss. Although, with her type of villainy... I feel like I can kind of enjoy a bit more. She reminds me of a Greek God in the ways she master manipulates people and her desperation for control and power (I just read 'Mythos' by Stephen Fry, it's a great read lol)

It lowkey feels like every female character who's comfortable in expressing their sexuality in this story is punished in some way for it... this is an incomplete thought

Shigure as a child feeling like they should all be pitied is so... mature... I feel like I need more of an explanation for why Shigure is the way he is

Akito's ego death with Kureno? Amazing. I loved that she was at least aware enough to realise how Kureno had been coddling her all this time but again... doesn't excuse her crimes

But anyways...

EPISODE 8

Honestly? I really don't have much to say about this episode besides 3-5 points I wanna get out of my head. It's not a bad thing at all, it's just that there's still a lot left to play out from this 'arc' and this season in general that I wanna complete my thoughts on.

But I'll start with this:

Lol, isn't it funny?! Isn't it heart-wrenchingly funny how the relationship between Kyo and Tohru has kinda reverted back to how they were at the start of the series? The coldness of Kyo at the beginning of this episode (and throughout) was a bit of a gut punch considering all the light and fluffy moments that we've gotten between the two since the True Form arc.

Talking about the True Form arc, I feel like this episode is somewhat a repeat of the same emotions, same trials of the True Form arc. Kyo still 'runs away like he always has' but this time we get him being the most honest and confrontational with his own emotions and trauma than he ever has been during the course of this whole story. While trusting someone (Tohru specifically) for the first time with the whole truth of his story! He always seems to move one step forward and then three steps backwards and while it's a tad bit frustrating, it feels very... real. I'll probably complete my feelings how this arc reflects the True Form arc when we finish this section of the story in future episode(s).

Considering the fact that 80% of this episode is Jerry Jewell monologuing as Kyo and I never got bored really just sells his performance. Kyo was being incredibly cold this episode and yet the range of emotions through his performance made it feel understandable enough for you to empathise with it.

BrattyKid!Kyo to lighten the mood 😹I still wish he and Hiro had more of a relationship, I feel like they could have taught each other a lot. Well... mostly Kyo teaching Hiro tbh

Kyo rejecting Kyoka for her honesty and kindness and then later rejecting Tohru? Oh... kid...

Wow, I felt so good about that whole episode of Kid!Yuki helping Kid!Tohru get home and then it's slightly soured knowing KID!KYO was running about the streets alllll night into the morning?!?! I really did feel Kyo's frustration at not getting that win to actually do something right. And the irony of that being linked to him being unable to save Kyoka from the oncoming car?

Honestly, I don't know what my feelings are on Kyo being unable to save Kyoka. I don't even know what my feelings are on Tohru pretty much pushing that aside in favour of her feelings for Kyo. It's... complicated and I've been mulling it over in my head for the last 10+ years hahah However, if I was in Tohru's position I think I'd eventually come to a point where it feels like it's too late to really do anything about how bad I'd feel about it. Kyo's intentions weren't horrid, if anything he was just being a scared kid and he's allowed to be that. I just wish Tohru had a bit more time to evaluate it but considering she knew her mother well and assumes that wouldn't have been the full scope of what she had said, I don't have much of a problem with it in general

Lol, I love when Tohru gets a 'FUCK YOU, I LOVE YOU' moment with Kyo. 😂Another reflected scene from the True Form arc... only thing is that this time... it doesn't quite work. 😕

(Again, I love how all of these reflections are resolved in later occurences in response to the duality but I'll get to it next week when it shows hopefully)

Laura Bailey only had a few sentences in this episode but she killed it as always. Comparing her performance in 2001 to now is just... growth!

Ok, so Yuki automatically gets Best Boi in this episode for meddling and chasing after KYO of all people. Showing how he's personally done with hating Kyo. Realising Kyo is pretty much the only person who'll make his mother happy. I think he also lowkey wants to understand Kyo? But, we'll get to that next week.

....Oh yeah, Akito is there.

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In total, I liked this episode even though it has me anxious for the next one. We finally get the full picture of why Kyo is the way he is! Ahhhh - a weight off all our chests, I'm sure. I kinda don't like that they put the ending theme at the end of these episodes - the joyfulness doesn't really match up with the intense theme? But, that's just a minor gripe. And hey, maybe they just want the audience to know... it's all gonna be okay :)

See you next week!!!

[kessielrg]

[Kingdom Hearts] When you give a bunny kid a cake…

Summary: After living for so long with a pack of toddlers, you grow used to their sweet doe eyes when they're about to get in trouble. Ventus has not grown such an immunity toward Oswald's sextuplet bunny kids and as such they recruit him into sneaking the ultimate treat; Ortensia's triple chocolate silk cake. [lowkey requested by @chibi-mushroom and the idea was just too adorable not to ignore]

Rating: K

Word Count: 2,714 words

If you like this story, please reblog!

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When Ortensia invited them over for a small fall party, Ventus didn't quite think he'd spend most of the time trapped in his girlfriend's bedroom. Not that they were doing anything exciting to begin with. Playing mancala had been Sabrina's idea, but now she looked like she was ready to go to sleep. She laid against her stomach with her head cradled in her arms, the mancala board at the foot of her bed, and Ven volunteering to sit on the floor. Sabrina's eyes drooped lower whenever Ven took his turn.

“You're allowed to go to sleep.” he told her at some point. “It's just me, Terra, and Aqua.”

“And Vanitas.” she spat back. “There's no way I'm going to sleep with that creeper in arm's distance.”

And so, indirectly, Ventus now had the reason why she had him trapped in her room. She needed someone to keep her awake. Someone that wasn't going to be too loud or annoying just by sharing a room with her. Someone, in other words, that she trusted.

He did not feel lucky knowing he was that someone.

“What did you do last night?” he then asked her. “You look so… dead inside.”

Sabrina opened her mouth to retort -a possible 'that's because I feel dead inside' if he knew her well- but was cut off with six little voices calling, “Sabreenie! Sabreenie!” from the other side of the door. Without skipping a beat, Sabrina shouted back;

“Buzz off!”

“But we need you Sabreenie!” three voices told her.

“And Ven-Ven too!” a single voice reminded them.

“Yes! And Ven-Ven too!” two others chorused in agreement.

Sabrina let out a low groan as she buried her head further into her arms.

Even though he knew she didn't want to hear it, Ven told her, “Can't you humor them for now? They are your siblings.”

“Not by blood.” she grumbled as she started to get off her bed anyway. Ven fought the urge to fondly smile at her while she sat straight up, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes using the palm of her hand. It looked enough like a scene from a movie that Ven wondered if she did it for show.

His opinion on this was squashed easily when she did rise to her feet. If it wasn't obvious Sabrina was exhausted, it became quickly apparent as she made her way to the door. She had a light, unintentional sway to her gait, which almost led to her bumping into the mannequin she used to test outfits before she wore them. It was actually kinda weird that she had it out- she usually hid it in her closet when guests were coming over.

Regardless, she made it to her door with otherwise ease. Sabrina opened the door and was greeted to six bunny children. They had stacked themselves by their shoulders- but even with the added height, the bunny kid on top was just barely tall enough to see above Sabrina's shoulders.

“You have three minutes.” Sabrina said to the bunny kid on top.

“Mama made a cake!” they happily told her.

Sabrina cocked an eyebrow at them. “And…?”

“Mama told Junior, Roy, Ray, Ruth, Herb, and Elias that cake has to wait until dinner.” came the sullen reply. All six of the bunny kids hung their head in misery.

“And I assume you want it now?”

The bunny children eagerly nodded in unison. Their little tower swayed for a moment from the small weight change, but the six were able to readjust quickly.

“Why didn't you guys get Vanitas?” Sabrina then wondered, casting them a suspicious glance.

“Van-Van is napping now.” one of the bunny kids told her. The others gave a solemn nod in agreement.

“But why Ventus too?”

“Sabreenie always hides Ven-Ven.” the bunny kid on top told her.

“We want to play now!” the others happily chorused.

“In other words,” their adoptive older sister mused as she leaned against her door frame, “You need a scapegoat.”

“Why would they need a scapegoat?” Ven curiously wondered, appearing by Sabrina's side. His girlfriend looked back at him with a disinterested raise of her eyebrow.

“When you give a bunny kid a cake,” she informed him, “Nothing after will go down in your favor.”

Now it was Ventus's turn to give her a funny look. He looked back at the bunny kids and saw their pitiful little faces. It was absolutely heartbreaking seeing their long faces; Ven could already hear a few random bars from Sarah McLachlan's Angel playing in the distance. 'In the arms of a bunny child...'

“Aw, come on Sabi,” he tried to gently tease, “Look at them. Look at those sad little faces...”

There wasn't even a moment of hesitation before she spat, “Those are the same faces they make before half the house gets set on fire.”

The bunny children let out a unified sound of surprise, then gave her a rather prude raspberry. Even with her being a good 13 years older than them, Sabrina retaliated with a raspberry of her own.

“You know,” Ven gently said to her, “You're not much different.” To the bunny kids proper, he said, “I'll help you.”

Unified squeal of joy came from the bunny kids as they hopped off each other and into Sabrina's room. Once everyone was in her room, Sabrina grimaced as she shut the door. The bunny kids might have been small, but with all six it still seemed like there wasn't enough room for everyone. Sabrina sat back down on her bed as Ven and the bunny kids started with their game plan.

“Our plan is simple,” he told the kids with a sense of mirth, “Ortensia usually leaves the cake in the fridge before we actually eat it. To avoid a crumb trail -literally- we should take it to the laundry room. All we really need to do is get some plates and forks from the…”

“This isn't going to work.”

Ventus and the bunny children looked over at Sabrina with the same look of bewilderment. It was Ven who soon gave her a rather cheeky grin before asking, “Jealous because our plan doesn't involve you?”

“Hardly.” Sabrina snorted. “While it is rather smart to eat it in the laundry room, Ortensia will hear you all clatter around the kitchen like a batch of chickens with their heads cut off.”

Ven's face immediately fell. “Oh.”

“This is where a divide and conquer plan would come in handy.” Sabrina went on, moving herself so the other seven could get a better look at her. She even pulled out the mancala board to better illustrate her plans. “Half of the six will go distract Terra and Aqua by directing them outside, the other half will keep Ortensia upstairs. Maybe Oswald too, but he's either-or in this kind of situation.”

“But who's getting the cake?” Ven asked, looking up at her with a curious tilt of his head.

“You are.” she claimed. “Alone.”

“Why just me?”

“Because I am making this plan foolproof, and I don't want to get between Ortensia while she's in guest kisser mode.”

Ventus recoiled a little and didn't look at her directly when he mumbled, “I wouldn't say Aqua, Terra, and I are guests...”

“You're not,” Sabrina affirmed with a huff, “But try telling Tense that.”

Ven let out a contemplative hum before looking down at the bunny kids. They looked back up at him with wide, adoring eyes that practically read 'isn't our big sister the best?' When he turned to Sabrina again, Ventus admittedly (and rather embarrassingly) zoned out slightly as she went over the plan to her siblings. There was a sense of concentration etched into her furrowed eyebrows as she went on. If she wasn't so interested in fashion and aesthetics, Sabrina would have made a good strategist.

“Roy, Ray, and Junior, take Ortensia upstairs and be loud about it. Junior might want to cause an 'accident' in the bathroom to be sure. Pops can jump in on that if it's real bad, so he's out of your hair too. Ruth, Elias, and Herb, your job is probably the easiest because Aqua and Terra love the stuffing out of you. Take them outside and show them your jack-o-lanterns. They should still be standing perky after a month. If not, make up a sob story of how much hard work you put into them and now they're rotting. Get some waterworks going and Terra will be eating out of the palm of your hand. All in all, you can only hold Mom's attention for about ten minutes before she figures something is up. Ven should have gotten the cake by then, so let's make that our time limit. Everyone good? Good. Break.”

“Break!” the bunny children immediately repeated with a clap of their hands. The six of them immediately left Sabrina's room to do as they were instructed. Ven remained where he was for a moment. Sabrina looked at him, a soft smirk appeared on her face.

“You didn't hear a word of that, did you?” she asked him.

“Of course I did!” he told her as he stood up. “I just gotta wait for the Six to clear everyone from the kitchen, then I've got less than 10 minutes to take the cake from the fridge and to the laundry room.”

A small snicker came from his girlfriend as she shook her head. “Good guess.” she gently teased. “Now go steal that cake before Ortensia finds out.”

. . .

Sabrina could deny it all she wanted, but the bunny kids got their sense of stealth from her. Or maybe the plan she made really was foolproof. Ventus waited out in the living room while the bunny kids tried to distract their respective roadblocks. Terra and Aqua had been easy targets; at least one of the bunny kids hopping into Terra's arms, and the other two tugging at Aqua's skirt to get her attention. Ortensia was harder to budge. It took two bunny kids to finally make her crack- running down the stairs (how they got up undetected to begin with was beyond Ven) in hysteria.

Just to be sure though, Ventus did wait an extra minute or so before going into the kitchen. He tried to walk as casually as possible, but the sudden anticipation of getting caught made him want to walk on tiptoes. He did find it rather hilarious that Sabrina as indirectly trying to help hide the noise he could have made in the kitchen- not that Cheyenne Kimball's One Original Thing was the best soundtrack to this moment.

Ventus carefully peeled the door to the refrigerator open and nearly let out a sigh of relief to see that cake was placed on one of the higher shelves. It had to be a higher shelf because of the Six, even if they attempted a bunny stack, but it must have been too high for Oswald and Ortensia too. Terra or Aqua must have placed it up there. For Ven, it was an easily reach and careful extraction. He set the cake down on the counter with care.

Ortensia had really outdone herself with the cake's presentation. Looking to be about three tiers, the cake was covered entirely with chocolate frosting with hand piped rosettes around the top edge. In the center was a neatly twirled covering of whipped cream, hand cut chocolate strips decorated the top of it. For a moment, Ven almost felt bad that he was an accessory to a soon to be cake murder by six ravenous 4 year olds.

Almost.

“Cake is for after dinner, Ventus.”

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Ven quickly tried to find the source of the voice before noticing Vanitas coming down the staircase. His twin had an undeniable smirked etched on his face. Seeing it made Ven's blood run cold.

“What are you doing in the kitchen?” he questioned. It sounded so accusatory, as if Ventus himself wasn't trying to do something that would have warranted the wrath of some very angry adults.

“Woke up from my nap and the wabbits weren't there.” came the reply, simple as day. “Came downstairs to harass Terra, I guess, and here I run into you…” Vanitas looked his older twin up and down with a smirk on his face before asking, “What'cha gonna do with that cake, Ven?”

“Eat it.” came the automatic answer. Ventus immediately flinched upon hearing himself. This answer only seemed to amuse Vanitas as he got closer.

“All alone?” he snorted. “I doubt that very seriously.” That was when a certain thought crossed his mind that almost made him laugh hard enough to tears. “This is a cover up operation! Hate to break it to you Ven-Ven, but giving Sabreenie a whole cake isn't gonna help with her seasonal depression.”

Ventus's face immediately scrunched into distaste. “She doesn't have...” he tried to argue, but was soon distracted when one of the bunny kids came down the staircase. The tiny four year old gave the cake a look, drooled a little, and in realizing that Vanitas was there, got right back into action.

“Hey there, squeaky.” Vanitas greeted when the little rabbit jumped high enough to be noticed. “What's eating you?”

But the bunny kid was speaking so quickly, it was hard to follow exactly what they were trying to tell Vanitas. Knowing that the message wasn't easily going through, the bunny kid changed tactics, leading Vanitas into the living room. Ven could only watch in a small awe as Vanitas willingly followed the bunny kid. Apparently Terra wasn't the only pushover when it came to them…

Ven shook his head. The mission was almost a success, and with the unexpected roadblock gone, he had to finish the deed. Carefully picking up the cake again, Ventus made his way around to the laundry room. It was no hassle in setting the cake down on top of the dryer. Letting out a small sound of relief, Ven wiped an imaginary bead of sweat from his brow. He left the laundry room as quietly as he entered it. The mission was accomplished- now all he needed to do was tell the bunny kids and possibly get them a spoon or two.

Going into the living room did lead to a small shock. Somehow, the bunny kid that had gone to distract Vanitas had gotten the teenager to go back to sleep. It took everything it had in Ventus not to let out an unflattering snort. When the bunny kid noticed him, Ven was given a doe eyed look of question. At his nod, the bunny kid let out a happy, “Thank you!” before bounding off to get the others. It was rather adorable, honestly, and Ven felt good about himself as he went into the kitchen to get spoons for the seven of them.

He didn't expect for all six of the bunny children to beat him back into the laundry room by the bunny kids. Someone really needed to come up with a reason why these kids were so fast. It didn't seem right.

“Ven-Ven helped us...” the oldest of the bunny children decided.

“So he gets first slice!” the others finished off with a solemn nod.

Ven chuckled a little. He took his spoon and made a rather generous scoop of cake. Normally, doing such a thing would have physically hurt him. But at the moment, knowing that the cake wasn't going to survive much longer, he chose to ignore it.

“I think this is all I need.” he decided out loud. He gave them all a smile before adding, “Thank you.”

“Is it for Sabreenie?” one of the bunny children curiously wondered. But Ven looked at them for a moment before giving a sly wink. The bunny kids went into a flurry of giggles as Ven started to leave. A smile was also pressed into the corners of Ventus's lips. Sabrina had been a major factor in their cake heist, so of course she deserved a piece of it too. Sure, cake might not help much with seasonal depression, but at least it could show that he still cared about her. And that, for now, was enough.

[salamanderskin]

Cold Hands, Warm Tea (Caduceus)

Cr//iti/cal R/o/le fanfiction m/m Fjord is becoming aware that his feelings for Caduceus are beyond ‘platonic healer friend who mentors him in a new faith’. It’s harder to hide it when Caduceus is sick and miserable.  A fluffy getting-together sort of sickfic. This one got away from me into 4k of plotless snz and fever because I will go down with this fjucking ship.  Someone please give this a title. 

It’s still strange to have a home to call their own. Strange, but nice. Their own sitting room where they can drink as much as they want, as late as they want, without the intrusion of strangers. Caduceus’ cooking is better than their usual fare on the road. Fjord likes that he can take his boots off and armour off and feel as safe as he ever feels. 

It’s late. The fire is low, the lamps are lit and the remains of dinner on the dining room table have been pushed aside for a game of cards. The only real early bird of the group is Caduceus, who has long since turned in. Caleb is in his room with  a book, Jester is in her room with the Traveller. That leaves Beau, Yasha, Fjord and Nott around the table with some time on their hands, for once, and a lot of shit to talk.  This suits Fjord just fine. He needs a distraction from the changes in his life, something to occupy his thoughts from the Wildmother, and from Caduceus. When he’s giving as good as he gets with Beau, he’s less likely to ask a stupid, revealing question like, “Have you ever been in love? How did you know?” 

They glance up as one when they hear feet on the stairs- a distinctive tread that speaks of a heavy frame that moves lightly. Fjord knows it intimately and looks up with a smile as Beau calls “Caduceus, that you?” 

 “Yeah, it's me.” The firbolg’s voice is deeper than usual and soft. Fjord feels his heart warm at the sound of it. It is a voice that always brings kindness. 

It is unusual to see Caduceus wearing more than a light jacket over his silk shirt. Right now he is wearing a blanket from his room around his shoulders like a shawl, gathered in one fist around him although it’s barely cold in the house. His long hair is loose and mussed, making an untidy, rose-coloured halo. 

“I'm not disturbing anything, am I?” Caduceus asks, ever polite. 

“Not at all. What are you doing up?” Yasha inquires.

The firbolg sighs and sits down on the remaining empty chair. “I'm having a hard time sleeping. I think I might be getting sick.”

Before Fjord can query, the firbolg draws a deep, unsteady breath and gifts them with an expression that is uncharacteristically uncertain- brows lifted, lips parted and gaze hovering near the ceiling-  followed by a soft miserable,. “Uuh- ishhhoo!” of a sneeze. He directs it over his shoulder and returns his attention to them with a sheepish sniffle.

This earns a  “Whoah, alright, we believed you already,” from Beau and a “gesundheit” from Nott. 

Fjord rises and comes to look at him, arm on his shoulder. “What kind of sick, 'Duceus?”

“I don't know, it doesn't matter. I just thought some company would be better than lieing in bed awake.”

“Why don’t you ask Jester for some healing?”

Caduceus wrinkles his nose. “Oh, no need to interrupt her tonight. I’ll see if it develops into any-” His voice goes airy and a tone higher as he tries valiantly to finish his thought “into-anyth-ii-ng-ISSHoo! Heh, excuse me.” 

Fjord cringes and averts his eyes as Caduceus whisks out a bit of cloth and turns to wipe his nose with a sorry sounding sniffle. 

“You sound shitty.” Beau pats the firbolg firmly on the back- a little too firmly, since it makes Caduceus start and cough. This is high sympathy and affection coming from her, and they all know it.

It makes Caduceus smile at least. With his blanket shawl and his long limbs tucked into the slightly too-small chair, he looks worn and sleepy. Fjord watches him shiver, swallow, wince as though his throat is sore. Then Fjord feels like a creeper for watching so closely. It’s been getting increasingly hard not to stare at their companion, no matter what state he’s in. 

“This is medicinal.” Nott holds out her flask of liquor. “And it’ll knock you right out. Best thing if you can’t sleep.” 

 “No thanks.” Caduceus shakes his head, predictably. “Maybe just some water.”

That Fjord can do. He manages not to leap to fetch it, but he’s glad he’s the one who moves first because that means he’s the one who gets to brush his fingers against Caduceus’ as he passes the glass, he’s the one who gets “thanks, Fjord,” and a grateful smile directed his way.

What he’d like to do, when Caduceus sniffles again and rubs his eyes in sleepy discomfort, is to bring him to bed and lay with him until the shivers ease. To give him the same warmth Fjord had received from him when Uk’Otoa’s nightmares raged. Fjord hadn’t felt shy then, but he feels shy now. So instead opens another bottle of ale and deals the cards between himself, Nott and Beau while Yasha chats to Caduceus. Eventually Caduceus clears his throat. “Think I’m going to turn in now. Thanks for the company.”

“Sleep well,” Yasha says. 

Fjord ads, “Night, ‘Deuces. I, uh, hope you feel better.” 

“Hah. Me too."

………………….

Fjord pauses at the door of Caduceus' dwelling, straining his ears for sounds of movement. He doesn't want to wake his friend if Caduceus has managed to drift to sleep. 

Jester, in full cleric mode, has already come and gone this morning, having given Caduceus a healing spell, a potion and a plate of cookies which remain uneaten. Fjord recalls her face scrunched in a pout of disappointment that her spell didn't immediately return to their friend to fighting fitness .She reported that his fever is down from blazing to merely uncomfortable, leaving him drowsy and restless 

"And I was gonna sit with him and read, and sing to him and stuff, but I could tell he didn't actually want me too. He's just suuuper tired right now so if you go see him you gotta be quiet," she told Fjord, eyes serious. "He might like to see you though, you could talk about Wildmother stuff."

"I think I can manage that." Fjord agreed. "If he gets worse, I'll definitely let you know."

So here he is, feeling a little awkward hovering on the threshold of Caduceus' bedchamber.

Fjord has been spending a lot of time in the tower garden but has never had cause to step into the little wooden shelter Caduceus prefers to an actual bedroom in the house. He doesn't want to invade his friend's privacy, but is desperately curious nonetheless. He wants to know everything about Caduceus. 

He knocks very gently and waits for a response.

"Hey." A soft voice and the sound of a body rolling over. 

"Don't get up-" Fjord begins, but the door opens for him.

Caduceus Clay greets Fjord with a pleased smile that is at odds with the gaunt look of his face. Fjord's not sure how someone with fur can be pale, but Clay has managed it, with the exception of a flush of colour high on his cheekbones. His eyes are over-bright and his poor nose looks chapped and sore from rubbing. 

"Fjord!" Caduceus says fondly. "What can I do for you?"

That selfless, innocent question is so utterly Caduceus that Fjord is stopped in his tracks. It's a lucky thing because when Caduceus wavers, suddenly lightheaded, Fjord is right there to catch him with both arms and bring him in for a hug which is more about keeping him upright.

"Whoah!" Fjord stumbles and swears, straightening them both. "I got you"

The Firbolg takes his own weight back but doesn't disengage from the embrace. His head drops to Fjord's shoulder as he takes a deep breath. The warm huff of air makes Fjord shiver. 

"Oh- sorry- think I stood up too quickly." "Looks like it." Fjord agrees. "Fuck. Come on, sit down." 

The firbolg has only a low futon mattress on the wooden floor, as simple and spare as the rest of the room. The rest of the space is filled with the pots containing seedlings he had determined required a little extra nursing- a sentiment that today describes Caduceus himself. Fjord lowers them both onto it and turns to give his companion a closer look.

He pushes the firbolg's hair from his face and feels fever heat radiating through his fingers and where their bodies touch. Jester's right, he's not in any danger, but he looks miserable, an expression so unfamiliar on his good-natured face that all Fjord can do is hug him again. 

"Mm. S'nice." 

It's more than nice. Fjord closes his eyes, breathing in Caduceus' scent and savouring the moment. They rest in the embrace for a long minute until Caduceus sniffles softly and first and then more insistently.

"Uh oh.." he murmurs, pressing a hand under his muzzle.

"You okay?" Fjord queries.

"Yeah- just-" His expression goes vague and then crumples into a fit of sneezing.

"-ISSHoo-!! hhisSShww!- ISSHwww!" Soft and with hardly a breath between them. 

All Fjord can do is watch and feel the tug on his heartstrings as Caduceus sneezes and sneezes, shuddering hard as he smothers them into his elbow.

He surfaces, apparently finished, and manages to murmur a "ugh, scuse me-" before he is overtaken again. 

Eventually he is able to blow his nose and stop the fit, giving Fjord a sheepish look over the handkerchief followed by an exhausted groan.

"I'm so sorry. Looks like Jester's spell is -snf- wearing off."

"Bless you." Fjord sighs. "You sound rough."

"Yeah." Caduceus agrees softly. That's typical Caduceus, too, neither dissembling nor seeking sympathy, merely accepting the fact. 

"Can I do anything?" 

"Hmm, I don't know." He shakes his head. "I can't think." 

"What about some tea? You always drink tea." 

His ears perk up a little as he considers. "Yeah. Good idea. I- I might need you to heat the water. I don't have any spells in me at the moment."

Fjord agrees at once. He notices Caduceus' tea set and kettle on a little stand but without any means to set a fire underneath. Fjord doesn't have any warming spell himself so he takes the kettle down to the kitchen to heat it the old fashioned way.

When he returns he is surprised to find his friend wandering the garden. He has put on a knitted sweater but his hunched posture still speaks of chill.

"'Duceus?"

"Hey." And a smile.

"What are you doing up?"

The firbolg clearly needs a second to think, visibly reaching through the fog of fever. "Getting some herbs. For the tea." 

"Oh. Can't I do that for you?" 

Caduceus nods vaguely. "Got to get the right ones. For healing. I'll get them. I'll teach you for next time."

Something irrational in Fjord's chest says there won't be a next time, because I'm never gonna let you get sick again. He doesn't know how he'd manage that, of course, but the sentiment remains. That said, it might be good to learn some healing herbs. If nothing else it'll give him a reason to spend more time up here.

Caduceus turns away from his harvesting to sneeze weakly into his cupped palms. He finishes with a whole-body shudder that makes his teeth chatter with cold.

"You should be in bed." 

Thank the Wildmother, Caduceus doesn't argue the point but gathers the handful of leaves into his palm and looks towards his room. "Yes. Yeah. Sorry, I got- distracted- there." 

"It's okay. Come back inside and we'll make that tea." 

Fjord loops his arm around the firbolg's waist to lead him back. He feels Caduceus lean on him in a way that suggests dizziness or maybe just fatigue. He feels the heat bleeding through the layers of their clothes. If it's making Fjord uncomfortable from the contact then Caduceus himself must be miserable with it, even if he's currently in the shivering phase. 

Fjord adds the herbs to the teapot, while Caduceus seems very glad to settle on the bed once more. He collapses all the way down and curls in on himself as he shakes with chills. Even with his hands in his armpits and his legs tucked up like a child's, he can't seem to get warm. Fjord pulls the blankets around him and that helps a little, but he still lets out a soft whine as a wave of chills passes over him. 

It just about breaks Fjord's heart. He goes to sit on the bed as if drawn by a tether, his arms going to Caduceus' back and rubbing heat into him through the blankets. 

"Hey. Hey. It's okay. What do you need?"

"M'okay. M'just cold." 

"The tea's ready. Can you sit up and drink some?"

Caduceus Clay and his family make tea not exactly for a living, but as a byproduct of their profession and their faith. Under normal circumstances Fjord would never dare to make a cup for him, but these are far from normal circumstances. It's not that he thinks Clay would judge his tea-making, exactly, but he wants so badly for the firbolg to think well of him. 

It seems unlikely that Caduceus can taste anything at all right now. He sits with his back leaning against the wall and their thighs touching on the bed. He holds the cup under his nose and breathes the stream. His slender, slit nostrils flare slightly, like a cat's, snuffling more and more rapidly, until he has to pause between sips to scrub the heel of his hand underneath his muzzle. It doesn't seem to be helping much. 

"Can you h-hold this for me?" 

He thrusts the cup at Fjord with a waver in his voice that makes Fjord take it automatically. 

"Thadks-" it's an octave higher than Caduceus' usual bass, drawn tight by a flurry of panting breaths. "heh… ehh…. heh'ISSShooo!"

"Bless you!" 

Caduceus waves a hand vaguely, pressing the other up against his nostrils. "Scuse-" He manages. Oh, his eyes are watering. He looks desperate and sniffly and full of cold, and Fjord can't do very much about it but watch as his breath hitches- hitches- 

"Chiiishhhoo!" And again, eyes slamming shut as his body jackknifes forward. If he'd been holding the tea, it would have been everywhere, that's for sure.

"hah-CHIIShhoo!" 

He surfaces with a watery, apologetic sniffle and takes the teacup back. "Nggh. Thanks, Fjord." 

"Bless you." It seems inadequate for how tired Caduceus seems. 

"Thanks." He says again. He drains the rest of the tea before any other mishap can befall it, and slumps tiredly to one side. This leaves him with his head leaning heavy against Fjord's shoulder. 

"Is that okay?" 

"Of course it's okay." Fjord soothes. He can feel the fever heat from the firbolg's brow and the back of his neck as he shivers. It's not unpleasant, he just wishes he could will it away. What he can do is reach his hands around and smooth the back of his fingers against the firbolg's cheek. He hopes for it to be soothing but his friend jumps in his arms, pulling away with a soft whine. 

"Sorry! Sorry!" 

"Your hands are c-cold."

"They're really not." Fjord sighs. "Come on. Lie down again now." 

With a little hauling and shifting of blankets he is able to settle Caduceus back on the mattress. It's not that 'Duceus is resisting, he's just lax with fever, and seven feet of Firbolg is a lot to manhandle. It's worth the effort to see him sigh in relief, even if it is punctuated with sniffles as he rolls over to bury his face in the pillows. 

Fjord steps back for a moment and takes stock of his patient. Caduceus lies on his belly, smothered by blankets that are not too thick to hide the occasional shudder running through his form. All that beautiful hair is vibrantly, ridiculously pink against the white cotton, tangled from all the commotion. His ears peek out from the strands, low against his head in misery. 

Another set of sniffles from within the covers, then an uneasy "uh oh-"  heralding another sneeze. It doesn't come at once but teases, leaving Caduceus to scrub his face miserably into the pillow and make soft, frustrated sounds on each exhale until he finally works up to a cleansing, "HeYSSSShhuh!" that makes Fjord cringe for his poor throat. 

"Fuck…" Fjord sighs, and tries not to listen as the firbolg blows his nose. It's a sniffly, uncomfortable sounding affair. He tries not to think of Caduceus' physiology as animal, exactly, but his slit nostrils are somewhere between a cats' and a cows', and hardly seem designed to handle the congestion.

"Ugh, I'm sorry Fjord. I'm no good to anyone like this." 

That's the last straw for Fjord's beleaguered heart.

Before he knows what he is doing, he finds himself crawling the length of the mattress and gathering the firbolg into his arms. There is a rush of heat and sweat from the lifted blankets but it is more than worth it to get Caduceus' head cradled against his chest, the weight of his body draped slack across Fjord's legs and curling into the warmth of him with another shiver. 

It feels so Goddamn good that Fjord's chest gets tight. 

Caduceus has gone very still.  The shivers stop as their shared body heat blossoms under the blankets.

"This is… new" He says tentatively. 

"But good, right?" 

"Yeah. It's nice. It helps a lot, actually. I think I needed a hug." 

Of course he does. Caduceus has always been tactile, ever ready with a hug and a kind hand. He never pushes it on anyone else, meaning that Jester gets the bulk of his physical affection. He grew up a big family and then has been alone for a long, long time. No wonder he craves a little comfort when he's not feeling good. Fjord feels like an ass for not recognising it before. 

In a bid to make up for lost time, Fjord presses a kiss to the crown of his forehead. Caduceus shivers again, but perhaps not with cold.

Inevitably, Caduceus’ sickness intervenes again, lest they forget what had brought them together this way. 

"Uh, Fjord…" 

Fjord has seen this cycle enough times to correctly interpret that hazy, ticklish squint and groping hand. He passes a clean hankie just in time for Caduceus to tuck it over his muzzle and shiver a soft, miserable "hhisSShww!"

He can feel Caduceus shudder with it, feel how much it takes out of him in this fevered state. 

The firbolg recovers more slowly now and his eyes remain unfocused. Gods, his pupils are like coins. 

“I think my fever’s up again.” Caduceus adds helpfully.

Fjord snorts. He may not be a healer but the heat radiating from the firbolg's skin is like sitting beside a brazier.

"Shall I call Jester?" There must be more magic they can pour at this problem, surely?

"Needs to save her spells. In case something happens." Caduceus explains. "She's coming this evening."

"Okay." Fjord doesn't like that much but apparently there is nothing to be done. Caduceus is selfless but he isn't a martyr or a fool. If he says there's no quick cure, Fjord believes him. It just really fucking sucks. 

He wishes he had picked up some healing magic along the way, but that wasn't what his patron had in mind, so he does what he knows how to do. 

That involves a cold cloth for the firbolg's brow and another to wipe down his neck and chest. Plenty of water to drink and another cup of tea, cold this time. Ensuring Caduceus always has a handkerchief to hand and a fond blessing when he sneezes. 

Caduceus lies placidly through all of this, a ghost of a smile on his lips in spite of it all. How he remains so good-natured, Fjord will never know. 

Fjord considers leaving him to get some sleep, but when he makes the suggestion Caduceus manages a very good impression of a wounded puppy even as he says, "Oh. Sure." 

So they end up together in the bed again. 

Caduceus is far too warm to snuggle in, but he lies on the mattress with his head resting on Fjord's arm so that the half-orc can smooth his sweaty hair back from his neck. It's almost perfect. Almost wonderful. It's been a long time since Fjord has lain with anyone like this. He watches the Firbolgs eyes weigh shut with a deep tenderness he hardly knew he was capable of, and presses another kiss to that burning brow. 

"You comfy? As you can be?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I-" Caduceus raises his head, looking up at Fjord with big pupils, fever flushed cheeks and a peculiar determination. Looks like Caduceus is steeling himself for something. 

" 'm far too loopy to think now." The firbolg begins, placing each word as if he has to retrieve them individually from the fog of fever and they lay them out before him. "But this is really nice. We should do this again...so I can… enjoy it properly." 

A long speech from someone hazy and half-asleep. Fjord feels his lips tilt into a delighted, probably goofy, grin. He is very glad Caduceus can't see it from this position.

"Yeah. I'd like that too." 

No reply this time. Caduceus Clay is asleep and snoring softly on his chest, and Fjord couldn't be happier.

[mhdiaries]

Haunted – Student Spirits River Styxx Diary

Ghost Date... May 1

Welcome to the last voyage you will ever take. Now prepare yourself to say goodbye to everything you hold dear because you shall never see it again!

Hahahahaha - so silly. Dad says I’m not taking my junior reaper duties serious enough, so I’m practicing my “ominous voice.” I told him that I could be 30% more serious if he’d let me have a real scythe, but he said I would have to “earn it.” So. Not. Fair. Pfffttttt... He’s still upset, I think, about me using his scythe to cut out paper snowflakes to decorate the ship. Dad said he thought himself immune to fear until he saw what I’d done to his ship. Whatevs - I thought the ghost Yeti we were transporting really enjoyed that little touch! Anyway, I told him I would do my beast to be grave when we ferry new ghosts. I guess I probably shouldn’t tell him about the confetti cannon I ordered.  

Ghost Date... May 10

We didn’t have any passenger reservations today, so Dad gave me the day off, and I went to hang out with Vandala on her ship. She said she was going to sail to the phantom island Hy Brasil to do some shopping. When dad dropped me off, Vandala’s ship was already at full sail. I didn’t see Vandala on deck so I asked one of the skeleton crew where she was, and he pointed to the captain’s cabin. I stuck my head through the door and saw that Vandala was leaning against her captain’s chair with a very strange look on her face. I told her that I loved the shade of green she was wearing, and she said, “It’s not a fashion statement, River, I’m seasick.” Poor thing. I tried to cheer her up by singing a little pirate ditty I made up:

Though the sea be rolling and the waves be high, and the ship be rocking from side to side...

I think it must have touched her, because before I could finish she put her hand over her mouth and was fighting back tears as she zipped from the cabin. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and totes embarrass her, so I went back out on deck while she composed herself. I floated up to the quarterdeck and tried to convince the helmsmonsterto let me steer the ship for a while, but he wouldn’t even look at me. “Captain said after the last time you is not to touch the wheel... ma’am.” Geez grim, you accidently steer into a giant whirlpool one time, and every ghost is like, “Don’t let her take the wheel.” The next thing I did was pop in on the lookout up in the crow’s nest. After I floated back down to pick up and return his spy glass - pirates are so jumpy - he told me that Hy Brasil was coming into view, so I went down to find Vandala. Oh. My. Ghost. Something is ringing the call bell, better go up and see what it is. I’ll be back to finish you off later.

Ghost Date... May 10 (continued)

So when Dad has to go out to collect a few things, one of my duties as an R.I.P. (Reaper In Preparation) is to take care of customers when he is away. So I floated up to see a very red faced phantom pushing the call button like it was a vending machine that took his money but didn’t give him a candy bar. So he starts yelling... rude... when he see me, and insists that I take him to the other side. I told him that we were closed and to come back tomorrow. Then he DEMANDED to see my superior, and I said, “You do know who my superior is, right?” I think he then thought I was being rude, and he turned from red to purple. Then Dad came home. Dad’s customer service skills are of the scythe, and it wasn’t long - maybe a couple seconds - before the phantom turned a whiter shade of pale, and agreed to come back tomorrow...

Where was I? Oh, right, Hy Brasil. Vandala was feeling a little bit better, and by the time the ship was anchored in the harbor she was ready to hit the markets. The island only appears once every seven years, so it was crowded with phantoms, ghosts, specters and apparitions. I even thought I saw Kiyomi Haunterly there, but she disappeared before I could talk to her. There were lots of creepy cool shops, and I found my Dad a new blade cover for his scythe. It’s made from the toenail clippings, ewww - of a black dragon, and it fits Dad’s scythe blade perfectly. Vandala found a place to get her leg waxed - the wooden one - which she says cuts down on the wear and scare of salt water while keeping out the ghost termites. She also found a place to buy old treasure maps, which is strange, ‘cause if you had a map to a treasure, why wouldn’t you just go find it yourself? Anyway, the shop creeper told Vandala it was authentic, and she was all ready to buy it. Now, by this time I had put Dad’s scythe cover on the end of my staff ‘cause it was easier to carry that way, and my hood was pulled down over my face ‘cause it had started to rain. That’s when I decided it would be funny to pop up behind the shop creeper and practice my “ominous voice.” So I did, and when I said, “This map is fake - it will lead you to no treasure,” the shop creeper nearly jumped out of his ectoplasm. He looked at me, and started apologizing to Vandala, who was getting a very piratey scowl on her face. “I, uh, well you see, captain, I mean, of course, I will return your money minus a small restocking fee.” I was trying not to laugh and then I snorted, but an “ominous voice” snort sounds kind of like a growl, and he gave Vandala all her money back. After we left Vandala asked me how I knew the map was fake. I stopped, and using my “ominous voice” again told her “There are some secrets that only a reaper can know.” Then Vandala got very serious and said, “So, lucky guess then?” “You know it,” I answered, and we ended the day with ice scream before getting back on the ship. Later on, after we got under way, I think Vandala was wishing she’d skipped the ice scream.

Ghost Day... May 17

Okay, it’s not like I usually notice things like this, but something is going on at school, and it’s not good. Principal Revenant has been handing out detention like it’s candy. I wish it was candy, I love candy. Oh candy, why are you so sweet and delicious? Okay, so back to the not-so-scary-sweet Principal Revenant. She is so strict that you don’t have to break a rule to get into trouble; just breathing on one is enough to earn yourself a detention sundae with chain sprinkles... mmmm sprinkles... on top. I was telling Dad about the situation, and he did this thing he does when he knows something but can’t tell me. It sounds like “hhmmpph”, but second “m” and first “p” are silent - yeah, it’s hard to explain - but what it means is “All things shall be revealed in time.” It also means that I don’t have a ghost of a chance of getting any more information out of him because he is bound by the “Reaper’s Oath of Neutrality”:

By my scythe I do solemnly swear to use neither word nor deed to affect an outcome as yet undecided. 

Any reaper who breaks this oath must give up their scythe and spend the next thousand years as a solid pondering their poor choice. This happened to my Dad’s cousin who’s a high school guidance counselor now. Scary. R.I.Ps. don’t have to take that oath until we get our real scythes, but we are “encouraged to practice neutrality in every situation.” Hah! I challenge every reaper, R.I.P. or otherwise, to remain neutral about Principal Revenant. 

Ghost Day... May 20

Dad is going out of town to a reaper’s convention in Las Plague-ns and is leaving me in charge. WOOT! He also left me a list of Do’s and Don’ts as long as my staff, of course. Here are some of my faves:

1. Do not lend to boat to your Uncle Charon. Dad says it takes a week to clean up the stray coins and that Uncle C always returns it with the fuel tank empty. 

7. Do not turn this vessel into a party barge to the neglect of its primary mission. Hmmm...

15. Do no repaint the boat. Awww... Porter and I had already picked out some screechy keen colors, too.

36. Do not yell, “We’re going down! We’re going down! Get to the unlifeboats!” or “Captain, we’ve hit an iceberg!” or “GHOST KRAKEN!” It is not funny and makes the passengers nervous. Is too funny.

50. Do look at this as a big step toward getting your scythe. I trust you and know that you will do a grave job. - Thanks, Dad! I promise to make you proud.

[fuckyeahnightmares]

Jeepers Creepers

Anonymous submitted:

-Please keep anonymous thanks! (:

  Ok so this is probably one of the weirdest experiences that has happened to me. This happened about two years ago. I’m from Los Angeles, CA. I met my boyfriend around a certain area of the city, which I will remain private, he lived with a roommate in this two story house that was really nice. It was one of the oldest houses on the street, built in 1909. It had a little wooden fence you’d unlock and walk up these steps, with all this land around it, a guest house, and then the patio on the side and then making entry to the left of the house. It was very cozy/ old fashioned, just a really nice little spot to be and away from the busy street.

  I would go over on the weekends to his place and we’d go out to bars down the street and of course spend the night there. One Sunday, which were usually lazy days, we were trying to decided on watching a spooky movie and I suggested that we watch Jeepers Creepers. He hadn’t seen the movie before and I told him it was one of my favorite monster like movies. Now mind you, I do not think the movie is scary or lose sleep over it or anything, I just think it’s a fun cool monster movie to watch, and can never get tired of it honestly haha.

   We watched the movie and fading away, called it a night and went to sleep. He slept on the left side of me near the door to his room and I slept next to the wall where the AC was. At the end of the bed was a window to the room in which we left open on occasion, if it was a warmer night. Well this night was a warmer night, and we had it open with the shade pulled down. Both crashed out, sleeping well after a lazy day.

     In the middle of the night I woke up faintly and noticed the weather outside and I could see leaves being blown in the wind and the trees rustling, VERY violently. It was very strange because not even on rainy days there, have I ever seen it get that windy. Within a few seconds from this realization out of nowhere I just had the urgency to throw myself back lying down and pulling the covers over my head FAST! In which at the same exact moment my boyfriend woke up in a jolt and sat up and yelled “WTF IS THAT?!” I heard and saw right before I threw the sheets on me the window bind getting blown all the way up until the end met the top of it.

   The window shuddered LOUD and I swear to you that you could literally feel something BIG fly or swoosh by, like a gust of wind but with more dense if that makes sense. The bedroom door was left ajar that night and it swung open and seemed like this thing made its way down the stairs and out. (You know when you watch western movies and a character comes into the saloon through those little two doors and you can hear the doors swaying back and forth), well thats how the bedroom door was when this thing flew out of the room. It felt like literally something was just passing by and you could feel the heaviness, and a weird gut feeling in your stomach.

   As soon as this “thing” came and left, literally kid you not, the wind outside stopped, like the dead of night. It was almost as if there was never any wind at all. The trees were so still, no leaves in the air. I was under the covers shaken up and my boyfriend asked “Did you see that?? What the heck was that?!” I was so spooked I responded, “I don’t know, but don’t acknowledge it too much!” I was so scared I just didn’t want to believe what just happened.

   The next morning we talked about it and just thought the whole thing was creepy and just crazy. Even weirder how we watched Jeepers Creepers that night and this thing or whatever it was, felt like this black mass or gust, was very similar the size of the character. We were definitely not asleep and NOT dreaming. To this day I don’t know what the heck that was.

    My boyfriend and I really liked that house, but now have moved in together in an apartment. Besides that odd night, we had other strange stuff happen there like hearing disembodied voices in the room, creaks as if someone walking around, my boyfriend even said one night during the week he felt something touch his feet in the middle of the night. Strange stuff happened there, but I don’t think the house was haunted. These experiences happened every so often and not regularly.

    I’d like to think since the house has been there for so long it’s probably a magnet for wandering spirits or attracts certain energies. That one night however, I truly think it was a spirit passing through wondering about in the middle of the night. Whether it was malevolent or not, it sure gave me a really creepy scare. My boyfriend doesn’t believe in any of that stuff, but today he still can’t explain what that was that night.

James: 6/10 Your boy is haunted! Thanks for sharing the scares!

[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

Camping

Mayans Based Story. Adult Content

Master List

Chapter Fifteen

I kissed and hugged and gave my goodbyes to Conner and the Irish Kings. I never noticed before how old fashioned their ways of thinking had been.  Until the senior King, Declan Brogan, commented on the way Bishop looked at me.

“Look at da state o’you, lass,” he says looking from me back to Bishop, “at least he’s no’ a protestant.  Yer da would roll in his grave.” I wanted to tell him that Bishop was everything to me. His heritage was every bit a part of him as mine was to me.  But I couldn’t find the words to express that wouldn’t alienate the Kings and kill everything that these clubs have been working for over the years. 

“I’ll see you next time you come stateside?” I ask as he climbs in the dark SUV.

“I’ll make it a point, lass. I’m gonna head-on before it gets any hotter ‘ere,” he closes the door and the Kings drive off.  

“The fuck was his problem?” Angel says as I turn back towards him and the rest of the Mayans. 

“Guess every dad’s worst nightmare,” I slip my hand in the crook of Bishop’s arm, “their little girl falling for a big bad dangerous biker.” I give my biker a kiss, “You’ve redeemed yourself in his eyes by being Catholic.” 

“And yours?” Bishop asks. 

“You have so many redeeming qualities, I can’t name them all,” my arms instinctively slide around his waist as I climb behind him on his bike, “my favorite is that thing you do with your tongue.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind, querida,” I hear the smile in his voice over the revving of his Harley as we head out.  I watch confused as Taza, Riz, and Angel turn one way while Bishop with Hank at his side and Creeper following us in the van turn another.  

“Where are they going?” I call out. I couldn’t make out Bishop’s response over the sounds of the wind and bike. I hold on as we move up the winding road and come to a stop in the woods.

“Promised you a trip to a quiet cabin,” Bishop helps me off the back of his bike while Hank opens the cabin door.  He makes sure everything is all clear before calling for Creeper to bring in our bags.

“Where did the other’s go?” I ask Bishop’s arm slides around my waist as he leads me inside, “They’re heading back to Stockton. It’s just us here. So relax, querida.” 

“It’s all clear,” Hank says, “I’m just a call away if you need anything.” 

“Thank you, “ I give Hank a kiss on the cheek and Creeper a wave as they move back down the road through the woods. 

My lips curve into a smile when his strong hands rest on my hips, pulling me back against him, I let out a soft moan as his lips find that sweet spot at the crook of my neck. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and I’ll fix us something to eat?" 

“Alright, baby,” I walk through the cabin and into the bedroom. The cabin is rustic and cozy. More a place for guys to go hang out and not a romantic getaway.  But with Bishop, that’s exactly what this would be. I take a quick shower to rinse away the road dust and get dressed.  I slip into a cami and a long flowing skirt.  It was comfortable and clung to every one of my curves in exactly the right way. 

I stop in the archway to the cabin’s kitchen watching as Bishop works. His kutte hangs on the back of a chair and his shirt opened enough to uncover his chest. It was pretty much the sexiest thing I’d seen. "Hey, ” my eyes meet him when he turns toward me, “you need help with anything?" 

"You want to open a bottle?” He points toward the wine rack in the corner. They weren’t fancy but it was wine. I half expected the rack to be full of moonshine. I grab a bottle and set it on the counter. Glasses were easy enough to find. An opener took a little longer to find. After filling the glasses I hop on the counter and take a sip. 

“Smells good, what’s for dinner?" 

"Spaghetti, ” he scoops up a spoonful of sauce, “Güeros don’t have much for spices, ” I take the bite he offered, “I think I did alright.”

“Delicious, ” I give him a coy smile, “But I’m in the mood for dessert first.” My fingers curl into his shirt and I pull him closer. His smirk matched mine as he places the spoon on the counter beside me and places his hands on my face, bringing my lips to his. I lean my head to the side as his lips trail along my jaw and down my neck, his fingers pulling the straps down my shoulders. Baring my breasts.  His hands found them fingers followed by his lips and tongue coaxing them to a hardened nub.  I thrust my hips against him as my arousal built. 

“What do you want, hermosa?” Bishop asked as his hands inched my skirt up.  His thumbs massaging circles on my inner thighs.  

“You,” I gasped as he pulls my nipple between his lips. He smiles into my flesh finding that I wasn’t wearing anything under my skirt.  

“You want me to what?” His fingers dance lightly over my slick folds. I lick my lips and glance down with my eyes, “I want you to taste me.”  He smiled and licked his lips moving down as his hands push my skirt up over my hips.  Exposing me fully to him. 

In another life, with another man, I would have felt ashamed wanting what I wanted from him. But I never needed to be afraid to ask Bishop for what I wanted. 

I lean back on the cool countertop. Gasping at how good his warm breath felt over my pussy.  The heat of his breath was replaced by his warm wet tongue.  He swirled slow circles down one side and back up the other.  Not quite entering me, but each circle seemed to make its way right to my clit.  I moaned loud, grinding my pussy into his mouth.  I wanted to feel his soft, wet lips encircle my clit. I wanted him to suck it into his mouth while he flicked at it with the tip of his tongue.  I wanted to feel the wetness of another orgasm drench his lips and chin.  And then I wanted to feel his cock inside me.  Oh fuck, I needed to have his cock inside me.

I glance down at him, pleading with just the look for him to make me cum. He smirked keeping his eyes locked with mine then plunged his tongue inside me, lapping up my juices before gliding his tongue up to flick my clit. I was riding on the edge of an orgasm and he made me ride it. My legs tingled and twitched as he took me to the edge then backed away.  

“Please,” my voice raspy from gasping, “make me cum.”

“Not yet,” he replaced his tongue with a finger. He grinned as my walls clenched around it. I let out a gasp when his finger curled up to find that spot. My head fell back and I moaned as he toyed with me. With one finger first, then adding another.  Taking me higher than I’d ever known. I arched my back grinding my clit against the palm of his hand. 

My legs spread wide opening myself up to whatever pleasure he wanted to give me. It was a beautiful torture.  I was torn between wanting the sensation to last forever and wanting to release the pleasure he was storing inside me. I knew I couldn’t have both.  

He didn’t let me decide as he pulled my clit between his lips and sucked. I lost all remaining control, giving myself over to the pure bliss that pulsed down my legs and through my whole body. I thrust my hips with each suck of his lips around my clit. Knowing the only other thing I wanted was to have his cock buried deep inside me.  The sound of my orgasm filled the cabin.

I raised up, my eyes meeting his as he lifted his head, his lips and chin were covered with my juices. “What else do you want, querida?” he asked.  My head still swimming from my orgasm, I bit my lip and nodded. Bishop’s eyes remain locked on mine not moving until I give him an answer.  

“Fuck me,” I pleaded. He kept his gaze with mine as he unbuttoned his shirt, and unfastened his jeans sliding them down.  His cock sprang free and hit me on my inner thigh, he moved so it rested against my pussy. His hands rested on either side of me on the counter and slid his cock over my wetness.  Slipping over my folds, the underside of his thickness rubbed against my clit.

“Please,” I whimper, “just fuck me. I need you inside me.”  His eyes dark as he continued to slide between my sensitive lips. I felt the head of his cock agonizingly at my entrance, I wanted so much for him to drive hard and deep inside me instead he pulled back and brushed his hardness over my clit.  

I ached to have him inside me. And I could tell his need was swelling.  His moans matched mine. I knew the feel of my wetness on the head of his cock was getting too much for both of us. He slid just the head of his cock inside me.  Gasping together as he held it there. My lips squeezed around him, urging him farther. Deeper. Inch by excruciating inch, he pushed inside me.  My walls pulsing around him each time.  I wanted all of him. I rolled my hips and lifted my leg to rest on his shoulder, finally, he drove fully inside me. 

“Yes,” I cried out as he held it there, grinding into me making sure he was all the way inside before he pulled out, he drove deep inside me a second, then third time before hitting a rhythm.  His thumb found my clit and circled it while he fucked me with his hard thick cock. My fingers toyed with my nipples and I felt myself climbing the mountain of pleasure again.  Only this time I would have someone reach that peak with me.  

He quickened his pace and I could feel his cock pulsing inside me.  “That’s it,” I groaned, every inch of me trembling with the radiating pleasure, “I want your cum inside me. Make me cum.” I couldn’t tell if my words made any sense.  I just knew I wanted to feel his release.  His fingers dug into my thighs and an animalistic growl echoed from inside him as I felt his cock spasm inside me.  Spurt after spurt of his cum filled me, and that pushed me over again.  I screamed with pleasure as my world went white with pleasure. Writhing against each other as we both draw out the pleasure as long as we can make it last. 

His arms wrap around me, pulling me up to his chest in a warm embrace, placing a soft kiss on my neck. 

“I love you,” I whisper, he presses a kiss to my jaw and then my lips.  I feel the sweet wetness of our mingled cum between my thighs and shiver.  

His eyes mirror back all the feelings I felt. “I love you too, querida,” He helped me off the counter, “go lay by the fire,” he motions to the pile of blankets he had spread there, “get warm. I’ll bring you something to eat.” 

[daydreamingfics]

When We Collide - Chapter One

Word Count:  2,535 

Chapters Released: 1 - Masterlist

Warnings: Slow Burn (this story won’t be going from 0-100. Hopefully, ya’ll won’t find it to be a complete snooze-fest. Other than that, this chapter really just introduces characters. There may be a swear word or two, but that’s it. 

Authors Note: This is the first piece that I’ve written in a very long time, and though I’m nervous about releasing it into the world... I’m also very excited to share this little story that I’ve concocted in my head. I have so many stories that I think up and never post out of fear, and I decided that it ends now. I’m also slowly getting back into second-person style writing as it’s not my favorite, so any feedback on how I can improve is much appreciated! I hope that ya’ll enjoy this story!

*This story is inspired by the song ‘When We Collide’ by Jon Foreman. I would definitely recommend giving the song a listen. Thank you so much for checking out this story! 

Ten-minutes into the trek back to Downtown Los Angeles you started seeing signs for Paradise Cove. You had never ventured out to this particular beach mainly because you never really had a reason to be in Malibu, to begin with. But after seeing numerous signs for the location, you decided that a quick pit-stop was worth making time for. Plus, after the shit show morning that you had- the last thing you were in the mood for was the hours of editing that awaited you back in the office. With the exit rapidly approaching, you looked over at your videographer, Reggie, who was operating the wheel.

“Hey Reg, do you mind dropping me off up here at Paradise Cove? I just need a minute to breathe before we attempt to salvage any useful material out of the interview footage.’

Taking a quick glance from the road over to you, Reggie let out a chuckle in understanding. Reggie was an older gentleman, most-likely early fifties, but he’d holler out that he didn’t feel a day over thirty if you were to ask him. The topic of Reggie’s age was often a running joke throughout the office, as no one but the man in question knew of his real age. He had a heart of gold and years of experience in the business. You were thrilled when the two of you had been paired-up for assignments. If there was anything that you didn’t entirely understand or if an interviewee got a little cross with you, Reggie, always had your back. Over time, the two of you had developed a sort of father-daughter type of relationship. Having grown up in a single-mother household, Reggie indeed was the closest thing you’d ever had to a father.

“Sure thing, Y/N. Need me to stick around the area to pick you back up after a while?” Reggie questioned, knocking you out of the momentary daydream that you had fallen into.

Shaking your head, you sent Reggie a small smile. “No, you can go ahead back to the office. I don’t want to keep you. I won’t be long, though, wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun editing ahead of us. I’ll just get an Uber back.” Once the shoreline came into view, you knew that you had made the right decision. It's as if the day's stress was already melting away.

”Here, take this for your ride back. And call me if you need anything.” Reggie voiced as he held out a twenty.

”Reg, I appreciate it, but I'm fine. I may not get any worthwhile assignments, but I do still get a paycheck.” you laughed.

”You know that I won't take no for an answer, Y/N, so just take it.” Reggie replied while placing the crumpled bill into your hand. ”Now go, enjoy yourself! Be safe. Don't talk to strangers! And be home before the street lights come on. It's all types of crazies out in Malibu!”

”Yes, dad. I got it. I got it! Don't worry.” you snickered dramatically as you sent Reggie a wave while exiting the vehicle.

Paradise Cove was precisely that, a picturesque beach situated just off of the Pacific Coast Highway with towering sandstone cliffs that made it feel as if you were in a whole other world. Given that it was a Tuesday afternoon, the beach was virtually vacant, which was precisely what you had desired. You needed a few moments to decompress and rid some of the clutter that had taken up residence inside of your head. Slipping out of your patent leather pumps, you relished in the warmth that surrounded your toes as you took your first steps onto the golden sand. Your hometown was a small coastal community so, naturally, you were a sea lover by heart. It saddened you that in the year and a half since moving out to California, you could count on one hand how many times you got to have a beach day. Making a mental note to work on actually having a life outside of the office, you gathered your shoes in one hand and followed the sound of the waves crashing against the shore until you were right where the land and sea meet. Tilting your head towards the infinite blue sky, you inhaled the salty air and allowed the warm breeze to cascade all around you. Nothing but the sound of the waves and the seagulls screeching as you shut your eyes and lived in the moment.

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as you walked along the pristine shoreline. Nearly an hour had passed since Reggie dropped you off, yet you couldn't get enough. Every way you veered, your eyes discovered something new. A few more people had wandered out by this point, yet the calmness remained. You watched as children created sandcastles, and splashed to their heart's content in the majestic blue waters. Not wanting to wander too deep into the unknown, you decided to turn around and go back the way you came. It was then that your eyes landed on him. You didn't recall seeing him previously, so you figured that he couldn't have been sat there long. He looked to be about your age with grey, almost silver-hued hair that was fashioned in an odd cut. In all honesty, the style would likely look hideous on anyone else, but he pulled it off. From your view, you also happened to notice that he had a multitude of piercings adorning his ears, and some type of slit going through one eyebrow it appeared. Again, you thought of just how unflattering that would look on anyone else. Yet, here, this guy was making it work. Really making it work. You contemplated getting closer to where he sat, maybe even striking up a conversation, but what would you even say. ’Nice weather we’re having?’

Aside from that, the fact that he was alone was a good indication that he had come out here with intentions similar to your own. For peace or quite, perhaps, both. He appeared to be rooted in thought and clearly focused on what he was doing. A notebook was his primary focal point, and you watched as he scribbled word after word inside of the book. He seemed to be on a roll, and the last thing you wanted was to be some random chick disturbing his focus. So, you decided that you’d just continue to admire from afar until you passed him. No harm in just looking, right? As long as you kept it discrete and didn't give off any grade-A creeper vibes, it’d be fine. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that, for some reason, this complete stranger felt familiar to you. He had this aura about him, and you racked your brain trying to place his face but kept coming up blank. As your feet drew you closer to where he sat, you struggled to fix your eyes on something else. Anything else. But, nothing quite caught your attention like him. Deciding that you had about one more quick look left before you would appear completely stalker-ish, you glimpsed back at the boy one final time, only this time he was gazing right back with a knowing smile.

You completely stopped moving at the sight as if somehow standing still would make you invisible, but no. Red leaked into your cheeks as you nervously mirrored his captivating smile, and even braved casting a small wave in this direction, to which he thankfully returned. How embarrassing would it have been if he were looking at someone else? You mused as your mind became momentarily distracted, thinking up all types of worse case scenarios. Peering over at the boy once more, you were shocked to see that he had shifted his positioning slightly and made just enough space on the beach towel for one more. For the second time in mere minutes,  the two of you locked eyes as he motioned for you to come and join him. Were you really going to just waltz on over and sit near a man that you knew absolutely nothing about? Yes, that was precisely what you were going to do. The image of Reggie giving you his ‘don’t talk to strangers’ lecture replayed in your head on a loop as you made your way over to the boy. You cautiously sat down beside the stranger, attempting to keep as much distance in-between the two of you as possible, which proved to be no small feat considering that the beach towel was intended for one. You could feel the awkward level rising as neither of you spoke a word, just sat there staring at each other with matching smiles and curious features.

“I’m Hongjoong.” he finally voiced after a few more seconds of silence. The sound of his voice was even better than you had thought it would be. You could sense that English wasn’t his native tongue, but at that moment, you could have sworn that the boy had invented the entire English language all by himself. 

“I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you, Hongjoong,” you uttered nervously. Being this close to him was making you feel all mushy inside, and it was taking every fiber in your being to keep your shit together. The last thing you wanted was to create a complete fool of yourself.

After the initial awkwardness had worn off, the conversation between the two of you flowed seamlessly. Hongjoong was so animated and passionate with his words, and you quickly found yourself hanging onto every single one. Though you hadn’t known the man for long, you had already reached one conclusion, he was magnificent. You opened up and shared parts of yourself that had been locked away for years with Hongjoong because, for some reason, you felt as if you’d known him your entire life. He assured you that the feeling was mutual as you both revealed more than you probably should have considering you’d just met. Hongjoong had even let you in on why he had chosen to spend his day off at the beach, stating that he was in search of inspiration. Though the two of you never discussed your careers, you did discover that the notebook you’d seen him writing in were lyrics that he had composed. He briefly mentioned that his reasoning for being in the US was for business, so you just assumed that he was a songwriter or something along those lines. The sound of your phone ringing interrupted your conversation with Hongjoong, and you cast an apologetic look his way as you searched your purse for the device. 

[ 1 Missed Call - Reg (Papa Bear) ]

“Wow, the time. Have we really been talking for over two hours? My co-worker probably thinks that I got swept away at sea by now.” you giggled.

The comment elicited a chorus of cackles from Hongjoong, and it was at that moment you realized just how much you adored his laugh.

“I can’t believe it either. Time goes fast when you’re in the best company!” Hongjoong proclaimed while pulling out his own device and checking the time.

“I was wondering if-” he started but then stopped just as quickly with his eyebrows furrowing slightly. You could sense that he was perhaps anxious about something, but you weren’t sure what it could be. He laughed somewhat and subtly scratched the back of his neck with one hand while outstretching his other that contained his cell phone to you. Oh, that explains the sudden rush of nervousness. You knew that you wanted to see Hongjoong again, but you didn’t want to be the one who initiated the whole number exchange, so you were more than thrilled that he went for it. With an even more full grin, you grabbed the device and handed over yours so that he could do the same. The minute your device was back in your hands, it started ringing again. You were seriously going to blast Reggie later on for cockblocking you not once, but twice. Not wanting your time with Hongjoong to come to an end you ignored the call and slipped your phone back into your purse, Reggie was going to have to wait for a little longer. When you looked back up, Hongjoong’s eyes were already fixed on you. A few moments of silence passed, but unlike the beginning of your conversation, this silence was comfortable. When your phone began blaring once again, you knew that, unfortunately, you would have to leave and rejoin the real world. Sitting along the shore with the wind in your hair conversing with the most attractive man you’d ever encountered, felt like a dream. One that you never wanted to wake up from. The look in his eyes mimicked your own, and you prayed to all the gods that this wouldn’t be the end of your story with Hongjoong. 

“That’s work that keeps calling... I was meant to be back awhile ago, but I- I honestly didn’t want this moment to end. Thank you for this Hongjoong, it’s just what I needed. I’ve enjoyed getting to know snippets about you.” you expressed. The vibrant smile that etched its way upon his features let you know that your words were well received and reciprocated.

“No, thank you. Y/N. I came here hoping for inspiration, and now I have more than I could imagine. All because of you. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to sit and talk with someone about all different things. Things that I don’t usually share.” Hongjoong cooed as he cautiously reached for your hand and lifted it up to his lips. He then proceeded to place a feather-light kiss upon the back of your hand, all while never breaking eye contact. This man was going to ruin you, and you were completely okay with that.  

“I have a hectic schedule coming up, but I will call, okay? I’ll find the time.” Hongjoong expressed while pulling you in for an embrace. You weren’t expecting the hug but welcomed it gladly as you wrapped your arms around his frame and simply just took pleasure in the final moments that you two would share until the next time. God, you hoped for the next time to come sooner rather than later. You simply nodded along as he spoke the words directly into your ear and squeezed you a little tighter as his tongue rolled over each syllable. You knew from past experiences how daft it was to put so much faith in a man, especially one that you had just met, but the words didn’t seem contrived or untrue coming from Hongjoong. He said he’d call, and you believed him. 

Even if all you and Hongjoong were meant to have was this moment, the memory of being in his arms and the incredibly unexpected yet unusual time that the two of you had shared would never leave you. 

[forvalor-blog]

       Perhaps he should have twigged sooner, but at a single listen, the report to his office had seemed opportune.

       ‘’Sheriff, someone who matched your description came waltzing in earlier.  I couldn’t convince him to stay.  He bought a coffee and not much else, but I know which way he went.  It’d be in your best interest to come as soon as you’re able.’’

                                                                                                  In his best interest, indeed.

       The cafe door is pushed open, the familiar jingle of the bell signalling his arrival.  It’s past midnight, but everybody has come to expect that.  If there’s one thing Sheriff Braav seems incapable of, it’s taking breaks.   ❛❛ Mel? ❜❜   His head turns to the left, then to the right, brow pinching with confusion when he doesn’t see her immediately.  The lights are still on and the quiet radio is still playing, so where is she?   ❛❛ Hello-ooh?  I got yer call.  Sorry ‘m so late.  Work. ❜❜

       As far as he can see, the diner is empty.  He takes a moment to take in the somewhat familiar surroundings, scanning them slowly.  Huron doesn’t use animals for products so the supposed ‘’leather’’ that her booths are clad in is most definitely artificial.  It’s cute though, homely, and that’s the main appeal.  The tables are snug and rectangular, like rows of perfectly adjacent dominoes, the chequered linoleum floor alight with a glossy clean finish.  He remembers crossing this same floor centuries ago to meet her halfway behind the counter, his body moving like a pawn on a chessboard.  Really, that’s all life is, isn’t it?  One big game of chess.

       He comes to lean against the counter, briefly standing on his tiptoes to see over the cash register properly.  Not there, you dumbass.  She’s always been small, but never that small.

       ❛❛ Oh!!  There you are!! ❜❜

       Kuro can do nothing to keep himself from jumping at the sudden arrival, a trained hand balanced against his hip, where his trusty firearm lays.  A long sigh leaves him, expression flashing even more deadpan than usual.   ❛❛ Dear Gods. ❜❜

       She can’t stop herself from giggling, a hand curled in front of her lips.   ❛❛ Did I scare you? ❜❜

       ❛❛ Just a little... ❜❜   he admits, clearly disgruntled as he shifts his weight to rest against the counter.  He’s definitely more mellow now.  Centuries ago, he would have been effing and blinding until the sun rose for being caught off guard like that;  he’d have ghosted her for a solid twenty-four hours before coming back for coffee;  he’d have been angry.  As much as she hates to admit it, she doesn’t miss that side of him much at all.   ❛❛ ... where even were y’...? ❜❜

       ❛❛ Takin’ the trash out, ❜❜   the woman replies, filing behind the counter with an air of grace, washing her hands beneath the tap before she turns back to face him.  He’s so beautiful...  he’s only gotten better with age.  I have to do this now, or I’ll never bring myself to do it.  It’s for his own good.   ❛❛ Anyway.  I’m glad you’re here.  This guy’s a real creeper. ❜❜   Without asking, she begins to prepare him coffee.  It’s the central piece of this plan, after all.   ❛❛ Figured it’d probably be best t’report it.  Even if he turns out to not be your guy, he could do with bein’ put on a register regardless. ❜❜

                                                                                 ❛❛ Yeah?  Wha’d’y’got fer me? ❜❜

       ❛❛ Weeell... ❜❜   She’s recited these lies over and over in her head for the past few weeks now, to the point where lying to his face isn’t difficult this time around.  So rehearsed is she that she goes through those run-of-the-mill descriptions with ease, as if reading script lines, and he seems all too happy to go along with it.  He even pulls out his notepad, capitalised scrawl noting down her false leads dutifully.  He’s hooked on her word, just as she was hooked on his all those years ago, and though she feels guilty for misleading him, she can’t help but feel happy to be the reason behind such captivation.  He keeps looking up at her when she pauses, like a puppy eyeing its owner for more treats, and she’s all too happy to feed him more.  Sometimes she stops deliberately just to watch the faithful incline of his head, that focus in his eyes shaking her to her core as they make the briefest of eye contact.  She isn’t obsessed, but had she been this attentive of his face for the decades they’ve spent apart, she may have snapped much sooner.  At some point, she hands him his coffee--  laced with sleep-powder and all--  and watches as he takes intermittent sips in between his feverish jottings.  The poor man is so addicted to the stuff that he doesn’t even think to question it--  even though he hadn’t asked for a cup.  At one point, he does pause, glancing at the rim of the mug, though whatever had caused him to think twice clearly isn’t enough to stop him from taking another sip.  It’s a habit she’ll try to help him kick once she’s been able to get through to him.

        They continue this way for a while, the minutes seamlessly threading together as he asks more questions and notes more things down.  She gives him a fake outfit, a false order  (  accompanied by a random person’s receipt* that aligned with her story  )  and fabricated fear, seeking desperately for his assurance.  He’s big and strong...  anybody would feel sheltered with him by their side.  Is it really so bad of her to want him to tell her that he’ll keep her safe?

       By the time he runs out of things to ask, a solid forty-five minutes have been and gone.  With the end of his pen pressed against his lower lip in a contemplative fashion, he speaks up once more, though his voice has a quieter quality to it.   ❛❛ Okaaay, so... ❜❜   She listens to him flip through the pages of notes he’d made, back-to-front, before he puts the pad down.  Every now and then, he blinks a little harder, as if trying to rearrange his line of sight.   ❛❛  Y’said he went upwards towards the No-Man’s-Land? ❜❜

       ❛❛ Yup. ❜❜

       ❛❛ Mmkay.  Doesn’t surprise me too much.  This guy’s originally from Vide, so it’d make sense if he’s tryna circle round so he’s back in familiar territory.  Out here in Huron, he’s kinda defenceless in terms’a hidin’ spots. ❜❜

       You’re so intelligent.  Were you always this clever?  I want that smart mouth in places I’m not brave enough to say out loud.  Sheriff, I’m listening, but I can’t stop daydreaming about you.  You understand, don’t you?  I just want--

                                 ❛❛ Uh... Mel? ❜❜

       The woman blinks quickly, coming back to reality.  He’s there, still, his brow creased slightly with concern.  Oh damn...  I really zoned out.  She crosses her legs discreetly, trying not to focus on the aching heat spreading between them,.  If she had even a little less control over herself, she may have blushed upon realising what she was thinking about.   ❛❛ Uh, y-yeah... ❜❜   A meek laugh leaves her.   ❛❛ S-Sorry, it’s just-- long work day.  Y’know how it is. ❜❜

       ❛❛ Don’t work yerself t’death, girl, ❜❜   he replies, some of the concern fading from his eyes.  It’s funny, the longer he stays here, the more tired he feels, and in a way he barely recalls feeling before;  a kind of tired he’s only felt with the aid of medication after being grievously stabbed...  the fleeting sensation of floating, as if the lead that seems permanently embedded into his blood has dissolved and allowed his awareness to wander.  He should get back home...  it’s approaching 1:30am and he didn’t even noticed.  Nana will be livid--

       ❛❛ Oh, shit... ❜❜   he mutters as he stands up, body teetering wildly to one side.  Vertigo hits him like a freight train.  Even Suka is thrown off, its shadowy form lumbering like a moving mountain behind him as he braces himself against the counter.  It’s at this point that he’s slowly realising that something is amiss;  that despite his keen wit and his sharp senses, something slipped past his radar and is about to render him useless.  How long has it been since I last slept?  Is it really hitting me that hard?   (  Kuro, what’s going on?*  )

       ❛❛ Gosh, Sheriff--  y’should sit.  You’re rockin’ like a little Raku Doll*. ❜❜

       ❛❛ Uh...  n-no, it’s fine.  I need t’get back home... ❜❜   Despite the hands she tries to meet him with, Kuro turns tail and begins his dizzy stumble towards the diner door.  He barely makes it before his vision begins to blur, an exhaustion somewhat akin to Suka sitting on top of him dragging him towards the floor.  He resists for as long as possible, trying to force shaking knees to cooperate, and his whole body flinches when Mel’s hands wrap around his torso, guiding him back towards the counter.  This is wrong--  everything’s wrong, and I missed it.

       ❛❛ Sheriff-- ❜❜

       ❛❛ ... wha’d y’do? ❜❜   Despite the way he quivers and sways, his words bite.  The accusation in them is almost as heavy as his body feels, a layer of ice garnishing the question like an appetiser;  as if it’s only the first of a series of cold-hearted digs he’s about to serve her.   ❛❛ ... y’did somethin’.  Wha’d y’do? ❜❜   His words are beginning to slur together, and in an instant do his legs give out.  Despite the way his brain screams in protest, he finds himself unable to get up again.  His vision swims as if he’s been permanently submerged, surroundings hazy and uneven before his eyes are weighted shut.  He should have known that this was too good to be true;  how convenient that she wasn’t willing to give him any details over the phone;  that it had to be in person.  But why?  Why is she doing this?  And if it is personal, why did she wait this fucking long?  With the single ounce of strength he has remaining:   ❛❛ ... knew yer coffee was off... ❜❜

       Something about the statement warms her up, despite the harsh chill accompanying it.  Of course he’d notice that her perfect coffee wasn’t quite perfect this time around.  She’s the only person he trusts--  besides his wife, she assumes--  to make it for him.  Despite how foolishly simple he may seem for meandering into such a quintessentially executed trap, the case is not so.  In fact, perhaps the only reason that she was able to succeed was because of her unassuming track record, and she knows that.  She hasn’t been involved in his life since their final night together really, and she hasn’t made a habit of acting crazy.  They spoke like old friends every few years or so, drinking coffee and sharing smokes before he went back to work.  Not once did she give him any reason to suspect her of anything.  As far as he was concerned, she was just the tasteful lay he’d had some centuries ago.

                                                                      It’s this thought exactly that she hopes to dispel.

       Kuro  (  will you let me call you that finally?  ), you know why I’ve done this.  You must’ve known that I’d come for you at some point.  There’s only so long I can watch you destroy yourself like this.  You’re selling your life away.  This woman...  she doesn’t love you, and you don’t love her.  How could we have had such explosive chemistry if you did?  I’ve been here this whole time...  didn’t you see me?  I’ve always seen you.

       Thank the Gods that it’s dark out, otherwise the huge open windows might have been a problem.  Dragging him by his feet behind the counter is the easy part, as heavy as he is--  it’s getting him down the cellar stairs that’s going to take time.

[firelight-tales-of-exandria]

Firelight Tales of Exandria, Ch.14 - “Wine, Women, and Song”

Thank you for coming, now let’s tell some stories...

“When last we left our heroes, Song had laid bare the circumstances of his past, which from he has spent the better part of a decade running. The rest of the party tried to reassure him that things weren’t as dire as he believes, only to be cornered in their favorite tavern by a squad of Shields interrogating Aeden, the owner of the Sloppy Satyr. The group hatched an escape plan to spirit Nakiya away, believing her to be the target of the investigation as a possible witness to murder, only to discover that it may have been Song the Shields were looking for the whole time.

“Thanks to some quick thinking and spell-slinging on the part of Shadow, the party made it out of the tavern without being detained, but was forced to temporarily split up. Leaf, Cezika, Ladryssa, and Shadow met up with Dren, the local high priest of the Platinum Dragon, to inquire about the apparent strife between he and Aeden. Dren bared the emotional scars of his past, but was comforted by the party and some potent medicinal tea. Meanwhile, Song and Nakiya escaped to the Underwalk Ward, where they patched up the tension from earlier that day. Nakiya bid Song farewell before heading back to the Garrison, leaving the Bard alone once more in the dark, desolate vaults and tunnels beneath Westruun.”

Nakiya returns to the Westruun Garrison barracks on full alert. Expecting to be detained for escaping, she is merely confined to quarters until the current situation with the murder investigation is under control.

With Leaf, Ladryssa, and Dren subdued by the TranquiliTea, Cezika and Shadow attempt to track down Zeal for a heart-to-heart while waiting for their friends to sober up.

Cezika and Shadow wander through the temple domicile for a bit, before being directed to the kitchen by the clergy. They eventually find her at work, absentmindedly lost in her chores for the day.

Cezika asks to talk in private, and Zeal eagerly blows off her duties to go drink in the courtyard garden with her friends, much to the annoyance and disapproval of her fellow Scales.

Zeal and Cezika sit under a tree while Shadow pokes about the garden. Cezika admits to reading Song’s letter to Zeal, which immediately embarrasses the tiefling who immediately hits the bottle of wine Cezika brought as a peace offering.

Cezika and Zeal spend a bit of time bonding over their mutual gripes about authority, fashion, and social expectations. While the other Scales would dismiss it as frivolous “girl talk”, Cezika could easily pick up on Zeal’s subtext; the young tiefling woman’s frustration with the lifestyle of her order, their attempts to stymie her individuality, and her deep-seated resentment towards having to live with her heritage.

Zeal confesses that, in spite of not knowing Song for long, his saying goodbye in such an impersonal manner shook her deeply, hitting upon deep abandonment issues.

Cezika reveals that she was abandoned too: found on a beach about the age of two or three.

Cezika: “The way that I always figured is if our parents were worth a shit they wouldn’t have abandoned us, so we are better off without them. Obviously they were terrible people.

Zeal: “Well, you didn’t need them whoever they were.”

Cezika: “Family is more than blood. Family is an ever-changing garden: sometimes plants die, new ones are grown, ones are brought in from far away, you tend to it, you treasure it, but it changes. It’s what you make of it.”

Zeal: “You know, for a second there, I thought you were going to say something pretentiously pious and attempting to be deep, like Dren does, but then you went with ‘gardening’ and then you kept my interest. So I will give you points for that.”

The girls bond over their shared disdain for bland cooking. Cezika promises to send spices from Marquet.

Cezika admits to baring her soul to the group in private and then bullying Song into sharing his. She says that in spite of the result of the letter, his intentions were honorable.

Cezika: “I don’t think [Song] knows how to be earnest with people that he actually cares about. I think he’s used to being a performer; showing a version of himself that he thinks people will accept without trusting himself that who he is is what we actually want to see. So he puts on this front. He’s trying to be who he thinks he should be-- who we want him to be. He needs to be himself. When he is honest he is quite likable, but it’s hard to lean into that sincerity.”

Zeal: “Y’know, for as much as I don’t want to give that insufferable little twink any credit... THAT I can completely relate with.”

Zeal is completely blindsided by the fact that Cezika thinks she and Song would make “ridiculously attractive babies.”

The hard truth of the life Zeal lives (a child of demonic blood, raised in a militant religious order, often sent off to fight and die against grave threats) meant that she thinks that she could never have a deep, long-term relationship.

Cezika and Shadow explain that Song is afraid the scrutiny of the Margrave’s investigation would reveal a dark secret he has been running from.

Cezika: “He’s worried about something that could be made public: the Margrave releases his identity, people who are after him find out and they come for him, and it’s a whole bunch of murder.”

Zeal: “Oh gods, I was right; he is a creeper.”

Shadow: “He is noble.”

Zeal: “He’s a noble?!”

Shadow: “What he did was a noble thing.”

Zeal: “Oh!”

Shadow unintentionally guilts Zeal into fully admitting her feelings for Song and how much that vulnerability and loss of control frightens her.

Shadow: “You are scared that you cannot control his actions?”

Zeal: “Pretty sure he’d let me control his actions if I wanted to, but...”

Cezika: “I mean, that is an entirely different conversation.”

Shadow: “I am confused.”

Zeal: “You’ll find out when you’re older.”

Shadow: “What does that mean?”

Zeal: “I don’t know, it’s just something Dren says.”

Shadow and Cezika explain that even though Song is in hiding he still refuses to leave the city. After recalling the confrontation with the Shields at the Satyr, Zeal becomes suddenly concerned. She explains that when the Shields start pulling at threads, their facade has to be iron-clad.

According to Zeal, whatever Song is running from may not be something the Shields could arrest him for unless they are absolutely sure he is guilty, but lying to the inquisitors investigating the party is absolutely a crime. As hard as it may be, she suggests they talk to Song and get him to come in to clear everything up.

Cezika offers to show Zeal Dren high on TranquiliTea, which Zeal jumps at and berates Cezika for not telling her sooner and delaying her with “personal bullshit.”

Cezika: “Sometimes it is worth going through the emotional bullshit. It hurts, but all wounds heal.”

Zeal: “...You have very pretty eyes.”

Cezika: “I know, everyone keeps telling me this.”

Cezika, Shadow, and Zeal come back to the rectory to find Dren and Leaf exploring the mystery of bees and Ladryssa is trying to talk to her pseudodragon in pidgin Draconic. Cezika, attempting to be the responsible one, tries to rouse the group to face their challenges and put their plan into action.

Cezika: “Aile, we need to get back.”

Leaf: “Noooooooo...”

Zeal promises to look after Dren (pocketing the TranquiliTea) and the group makes their way back to the Garrison.

On the way, the party notices several patrols-in-force about the city streets, as though Westruun is now on high alter, but are not stopped by any of them.

Upon reaching the barracks, the rest of the party is confined to quarters, meeting up again with Nakiya. The party tries to figure out how to salvage this situation and whether trying to convince Song to come clean is the best course of action. The group remains confined to quarters through the night and into the next day.

Shadow and Nakiya are summoned to speak before the inquiry board, under close guard. The group trying making the best of their confinement. Leaf requests time outside, and they are escorted around the parade grounds for ten hours.

After Shadow and Nakiya are escorted back, the group is delivered their meal by a Shield in a special uniform, who sits with the group and cheerily introduces himself as Warrant Officer Regnault du Gaultier, the special investigator assigned to the group.