#so did mine but you don’t see me green and rooted to the ocean floor
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show percy will eventually make another very out of pocket comment about the fact that zeus' best idea to save thalia was turning her into a tree but that time he'll add the fact that his dad grabbed him from a free fall instead of turning him into seaweed or a seagull or a horse and i live for the reaction of whoever is on the receiving end
#bro has the capability#he doesnt like the gods enough as it is#she met a hero’s fate#no she met a pinecone’s fate#at least her dad did something to save her 🙄#so did mine but you don’t see me green and rooted to the ocean floor#😨#pjo tv show#pjo series#percy jackson#pjo poseidon#thalia grace#pjo zeus#percy jackson tv series
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Attack of the Multiverse!! (Pink Pearl edition)
“Presenting....a new writing series! Here’s the preview of the entire story! Enjoy and thanks for reading in advance!”
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*que intense chase track
A pink pearl in her latest crystal gem form, was blindly running into the darkened beach, where everything was pitch black. She couldn’t see the water, she couldn't see the sand, heck, she couldn’t even see the giant temple that should be located somewhere in front of her without any light source!
She couldn’t remember how long she ran, but it was more than her physic could take. As she slowed down, she huffed and puffed, almost wheezing from all the running.
But her break was cut short when-
A sound of blast came from somewhere behind her, controlling whatever it touched as the torn objects such as floor boards, trash cans, and giant chunks of earth levitating around the enemy figure.
As Coral raced towards the temple, which was finally visible from the bright aura of the floating gem, another figure appeared, stretching out her ballerina leg and tripped the poor pink gem.
“Ooof-“ she exclaimed as she faceplanted into the sand.
As Coral lifted her head, she saw two figures, no wait…two identical figures!
The closest figure wore the outfit she had before the rebellion, her first ever pearl form, except it's all nastified, torned up and darkened, as if someone drenched her with the colour schemes of an arch villain. Instead of buns for her hair, two shaggy and messy side ponytails wildly danced under the blowing night wind. Under her eyes was a trail of dark ink, making her look more horrifying than she could ever imagine! (She’s abandoned pearl, but let’s go with Crazy)
The other figure looked like the first figure, except she was completely greyscaled. Her entire body radiated absolutely no colour, just the dreadful shades of black and white! Her hair, too, was in a complete mess, but in a mad scientist style, where her hair looked like it was electrocuted, but more neatly and less frizzy. Anger was radiated from her twitching eye and her frozen W pose, the twitching eye was glowing with power, as if it’s holding back the power with what’s happening next!
The two of them both bore a damaged right eye, but resembled no difference to each other, they even look like-
Coral gasped, “No way! You’re…me?” as she pointed to the two Pink pearls, getting more and more confused.
“That’s right!” Crazy Pearl spoke with a raspy voice and some crazy in her eyes. “And now that we finally got you, we’ll take our sweet time to DESTROY YOU!!”
The pearl brought out a wand from her gem, and it immediately extended and sprung into a deadly, pink, glowing rejuvenator. “Once you’re rejuvenated, you can join my little army, and we’ll destroy the worlds together! Mwahhahahhahahahaha!!”
Coral was only able to whimper out, “worlds?” as the crazy gem wasted no time and brought down her pink glowing scythe!
As Coral braced for rejuvenation, a pink ribbon lashed out and gripped on Crazy pearl’s arm. The scythe was frozen in place, but it was flung aside as Crazy was yanked out of her spot! As the ribbon retreated, another figure slowly came out of its hiding.
“You won’t be destroying anything once I’m done with you!” It’s the same voice as Coral herself, but more confident and sure. The figure had Coral’s face, her hair, her gift from Pink diamond. The more obvious significance was the green dress and the placement of the gem on her forehead. The gem in green shouted, “Earl! You take that freak while I take care of crazy here!”
As soon as she ordered, the sound of a gem retrieving their weapon echoed, “SHING!” with the sound of pistol fire not long after!
Bullets were shot, all flying towards freak pearl, but a metal trash can flew out of nowhere and acted as a shield against the attack.
Coral saw the shooter come out with angered expression, as if she was annoyed of the constant blockage of her attacks. The shooter looked almost exactly like freak pearl, the only difference was one of them is a bleached floating freak while the other wore a long sleeved silk shirt with a diamond shaped cut around her gem, bright pink shorts with huge pink splatters and spots all over her body. Her grey hair buns had little strays of hair at the end, with far less cracks on her face. Earl also had the same cracked eye, but she’s looking a lot less freaky than her counterpart.
As the two pearls fought as ballerinas, assassins and shooters simultaneously, the confident pearl grabbed on to Coral and ordered, “Come on! We need to get out of here! That ribbon wont hold her for long!!”
The said ribbon was wrapping up crazy pearl with a neat bow on top, however, she looked like she could break free any moment!
“Hurry!” Coral got up and they both went to help Earl. The confident pearl pointed to the levitating gem and ordered, “Use your lance and take her down!”
“What!?” Coral questioned in surprise, “isn’t that a bit too much?”
“Trust me, it's not!”
Coral summoned and gripped her lance, aimed at the freaky pearl and threw.
The weapon was barely slapped away with the metal trash can, but that little distraction was able to give Earl the chance to finally strike and take her down!
Earl leaped into the air and performed a 10/10 somersault, she gracefully kicked freak pearl as far as she could! “Smack!”
The knocked pearl made no sound, just the sound of her SPLASH landing into the dark ocean.
Coral immediately took the chance and demanded answers from the two, “Can someone explain what is going on!?”
She looked at Earl, who, instead of speaking, did hand gestures that were clearly sign language, but Coral didn’t get the chance to study them unfortunately…
Confident pink pearl translated, “She’s saying we don’t have much time! Come one, this way!” she pointed to the side of the crystal gem temple. “There's a portal there that should lead us straight to her!”
Coral demanded as they ran, “Her who?!?”
“Coral, do you believe in alternate universes?!” Confident pearl asked.
“I do now! Seeing all of you here! Being literally alternate versions of…ME!”
“Well actually, we’re all alternative versions of the OG Pink Pearl, The original! I’m from a diamond swap universe where White Diamond and Pink diamond swapped places, I’m one of original crystal gems, without White diamonds old pearl.” C!Pearl said as Earl nodded at the side.
Earl made more hand gestures to say something, pointing to herself along with more sign language. C!Pearl translated, “That’s Earl, she’s from another timeline where she… you know what, it’s a long story, all you need to know is that we can trust her!”
“But what about the two we just fought?” Coral demanded.
“Those two? I call them freaky and crazy! They’ve been after us ever since we started portal jumping! I’m not sure where they’re from, but I’m pretty sure Crazy is from an AU where SHE was abandoned in Pink diamond’s garden instead of Spinel! As for freak pearl, really not sure here. Maybe she’s an interpretation of how powerful she could get under a diamond’s complete influence and power?”
Coral gave another quick question, “How do we know who the original Pink pearl is if we’re all from different timelines?”
“Simple,” C!Pearl said, “she’s the pinkpearl that followed the Canon timeline, where she got controlled by White Diamond and spent 6000 years as her mindless servant! Us, however, were created to avoid that specific timeline, so she’s the root of all Pink Pearl. The most important thing to do right now is to look for the first Pink Pearl!! She’s the only one that can help us get deal with our...situation right now.”
“How are we gonna get there with these two on our tail!??” Coral said as she notices more rubble floating behind her as well as a maniacal laugh echoing louder and louder!
“All we need is to get through that portal! Those two wont be able to catch up! Come one!”
The portal, swirling in pink and white star dust, finally became visible behind one of the temple palms. Within the right distance, all three pearls leaped into the portal as it closed behind them!
Shooooofwop!
End of part ???
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Multiverse Pink pearl series! Next chapter coming in-
The two rogue pink pearls stopped their tracks when they found...no portal, nor any of the pearls they were fighting.
The two antagonists turned to the camera, made little chuckles and pointed at you, the reader. Crazy teased, “Look what we got here freak pearl, someone that thinks this ISNT an April Fool’s special.”
Freak pearl rotated her floating junk around her until they got to a trash can. She set the trash can on the sand and tapped three times.
Knock
Knock
Knock
There was a moment of silence and snoring, sounds like someone fell asleep.
Crazy summoned a speaker phone from her gem, placed it at the side of the can, and screamed, “HEY PEARLPLUSAU WRITER! ITS YOUR QUE!”
The writer groggily woke up rubbing his eyes, “Yawnnnn….”
He fell off into the sand.
“Heyyy there fellow readers, yes this IS an April fool’s special, a friend of mine was curious if i would write one of these and sure enough, once the idea got developed, i got straight to the writing process.”
“What was surprising is using us AU characters into his little joke writing, where are the credits you punk?!” Crazy asked in a rather annoyed tone.
"Oh that? ” The writer continued," Credits of the characters are below! You can see the images, as well as the title of the AUs. Some of the characters are linked back to the creators tumblr account, while other creators who dont have tumblr accounts are linked to original posts, like from Instagram!! ”
Freak pearl snapped her fingers for the writer’s attention and pointed to herself, asking for her origin.
“Oh freak pearl? I just thought it would be cool if there’s more than one antagonist for this special, so i kinda created you myself. The idea was, how dangerous can pinkpearl be with a diamond’s ability, and there you are! Telekinesis and mega white laser beams! Pretty cool huh?”
Freak pearl did not respond...well.
“Anyways,” the writer proceeded, “writing this was a pretty fun 1.5 hours of the time i have, not including reviewing and editing tho. If theres anyone out there that wishes to continue the story in their own way, be my guest. Just let me know so i can read it myself lol, im very interested in your take of the situation! “
April fools! And thanks for reading!
Characters (even though they’re not drawn)
Coral/Pink pearl from Pearlplusau - Original design by Tripixle!!
Crystal gem Pink pearl from Diamond swap au - Credit to @dreambigstars
Earl from WD steven au - AU character from @ask-whitepearl-and-steven
Crazy pearl (Despair pink pearl), Design from Shrimp.face (Link to their post)
Freak Pearl, no specific au named, nor from any creator. So i guess she’s my AU character?
A/N: Hope you guys had fun reading as much as i had fun writing it!
Also the real new chapter coming in probs two weeks from now.
Slightly unrelated, there might not be as much visuals as there was last chapter. The drawing pen is a bit busted.
Till then! Bye!
#suau#pinkpearl#Coral#WD!steven#Spinelpinkpearlswap#diamondswap#stevenuniverse#ohwait#iforgotsmth#april fools#happyapril1st
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A Sequel: Amazon Archeologist/Scientist AU, Part 2:
You can read on AO3 here.
1. “How does it feel to have cured cancer?” asked Kathy Lee. Scully couldn’t take her eyes off the rim of the host’s wine glass; it was smeared with lipstick, and the wine contained therein had legs, running down the bell curve of the glass in thin amber stripes.
It was oddly, surreally quiet on the unnaturally blazing stage -- multiple cameras pointing at them, a team of professionals sitting in dead silence in the dark spread out below.
“I only wish I’d done it sooner,” Scully said, going off script a bit. “I think of the people that died while we were still searching, still researching, while the studies were being checked and… I just wish I’d found it sooner.”
The host’s face softened, and she reached forward and put her hand over Scully’s on the arm of the chair where it was resting. She gave it a squeeze and Hoda took over, “Up next, the group BTS is going to sing us their latest single!”
There was a dull bell that rang off to Scully’s right and the stage manager stepped forward, headphones clomped over his ears, his mic slung low around his jaw.
“We’re clear!” he called, “Sixty seconds!”
The show would be cutting to a co-host standing at a stage set-up outside 30 Rockefeller Center. Scully reached up to unhook the mic attached to her lapel, and a trio of sound technicians descended on her. In ten seconds, she was relieved of all equipment, and she was left swaying in the funnel of the Fresnels on the too bright stage.
“You did great,” she heard from her left, and the show’s host winked at her, and retook her hand, leading her to the dim cool just off stage.
She found Mulder standing before her once her eyes adjusted, just outside the reach of the stage lights, looking nervous and out of place, his hands clasped behind his back. He was wearing a turtleneck and a suit coat, looking every inch the tenured professor.
“And who’s this?” Kathie Lee asked, looking at Mulder brightly.
Scully shook herself, trying to remember her manners. It wasn’t always easy, having spent so much time in the field.
“Uh, this is Mulder,” she said, “Dr. Fox Mulder. My, um… my fiancé.”
The television host smiled warmly at Mulder and clasped his hand.
“I’ve heard the story of your meeting,” Kathie Lee said, “It’s a real pleasure.”
“I’m a big Giants fan,” Mulder said, giving her hand a firm shake, “the pleasure’s all mine.”
The host winked at him and then stalked off, and Scully exhaled, falling a little into Mulder’s side.
“I’m glad that’s over,” she said.
“The price you pay for changing the course of human history,” Mulder mumbled, squeezing her into his side and kissing her hairline. He led her off the soundstage and into a waiting limo.
2. It had been a whirlwind since the Nobel Prize Award ceremony in Stockholm. It was cold in Sweden in December — especially to a person who’d spent years in the humid jungles off the beaten paths of the world, and she and Mulder both felt out of place and perpetually in the clasp of a bone-clutching chill.
“I just want to be back in the field,” she’d whisper to him, and he would kiss her hand. With the prize money, they could buy a house, start a family — but they both would rather be in a jungle somewhere, sweating into the other’s skin on a too-narrow cot, in a too-hot clime. There was no science when they were in the cradle of the other’s hips, there was just each other. Sex made life more simple. Sex made life more fun. But sex didn’t cure cancer. Pleurotus Mulderatus did that, and the world wanted to hear about it.
3.She had a free ticket. Any university, any assignment.
“I feel pressure,” she told him, her nose pressed into his ear. “What do you do after you’ve cured cancer?” she asked, earnestly, “there’s nowhere to go but down.”
He’d taken her to Rhode Island, to his family’s cottage in Quonochontaug, creaky and drafty and smelling of mildew and old pine. No one had visited in decades and everything needed to be cleaned and aired out.
They kayaked and frolicked in the waves, drank coffee in adirondack chairs and listened to the pinched squawks of hovering sea birds. They’d find a place in the dune grass, down low where the wind wouldn’t catch them. They’d soak up the sun and then go into the cottage and make love between the knotty pine walls, their moans absorbed by the thick shag carpet laced with the grit of sand, faded drunkards path quilts nailed to the walls.
“Down is a state of mind,” Mulder would murmur into her ear, “Up is fighting gravity. You have nowhere to be but here. You have no one to impress but me.”
He would catch her lips with his own and they would sink into each other gratefully.
4.Mulder was burning pancakes in the kitchen when there was a dull knock on the screen door.
Scully was laughing at Mulder’s culinary ineptitudes when she turned toward the sound, her laugh fading when a well-done-up woman appeared on the stoop, holding her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare, trying to see into the murky depths of the house.
“Are you press?” Scully asked through the screen door glumly, her mood taking a nose dive.
“I’m Samantha,” the woman said, and it took Scully a full five seconds for her synapses to fire, to figure out the identity of the visitor.
“Oh my god,” Scully said, swinging the door open to admit the polished woman waiting on the other side. The door itself was swollen with humidity and didn’t shut all the way -- it caught like there was a second latch. “Come in, come in!”
Samantha had a full head of thick hair just like her brother, but it was curled and tawny, streaks of not-quite-blonde highlights running from the roots. She was wearing Lily Pulitzer pastels, and would have looked at home in a sun hat or on the pages of Coastal Living.
“You must be Dana,” she breathed, smiling widely. Scully nodded and looked around self-consciously. “God, this place hasn’t changed in thirty years,” Samantha finished, shaking her head ruefully. “Where’s Fox?”
“Kitchen,” Scully said, inclining her head toward the cooking space, though she knew Samantha knew right where to go.
“You’re using the cast iron?” Samantha said boldly and apropos of nothing, stepping into the sunny kitchen, “God, I hope you seasoned that thing.”
Mulder’s face brightened at seeing his sister, and he turned to her fully, enveloping her in a hug, a greasy spatula in one hand, held out so as not to soil her clothes.
“Like you can cook,” he drawled, turning back to the smoking pan.
“I know enough to hire a caterer,” she said, plunking down in an olive green vinyl kitchen chair, looking at ease but totally out of place in the dated decor of the cottage. “So. Who do I have to fuck to get a mimosa around here?”
“Me,” said a voice from the entryway. The screen door slammed ineffectually shut and Scully’s own sister Melissa stood awkwardly in the slant of sun showing through it, holding several plastic bags laden with glass bottles and juices, a hopeful, nervous smile on her face.
“Missy?!” Scully squeaked, and Mulder looked to the door, his face chagrined and pleased as Scully launched herself at her sister, wrapping herself in the earthy patchouli smell of the woman, the plastic bags clunking to the floor at their feet.
XxXxXxXxXxX
“I got ordained online,” Melissa said, drinking a Bellini from a yellow smiley-face mug, her feet tucked under her on a rough-hewn dining chair. “It’s perfectly legal.”
“But it’s--” Scully started, then abandoned her argument. She looked to Mulder desperately, who smiled and plunked a cup of hot coffee in front of her.
“It was only an idea,” he said, squeezing her hand and sliding an ancient sugar dish in front of her. The crinkles around his eyes had hardened in the ocean-reflected sun, lending him an air of easy humor she hadn’t witnessed much of in the jungle.
“Don’t you need two witnesses?” she asked, realizing how lame it sounded the second the words were out of her mouth.
Samantha leaned over and grabbed her hand, squeezing her fingers in such a way that made her feel bolstered and secure. “Not in Rhode Island,” Mulder’s sister told her, looking her square in the eye.
“We don’t have to do it,” Mulder said, still standing at her side, “but I thought…”
She felt overwhelmed with emotion, thinking of her father, who hadn’t lived long enough to witness her greatest achievement, which would have saved his life.
“Mom sent her wedding dress,” Melissa said, holding up a garment bag -- it was a yellowed ivory in the kitchen sun, the zipper up its middle aged and brittle.
XxXxXxXxXxX
They exchanged vows on the beach in front of the old cottage in a whipping Atlantic wind. Gulls hovered overhead and the sun was as bright as a brass doorknob, the air clearer than glass.
Samantha had read a poem by an amateur poet named Tim Pratt called Scientific Romance (Mulder having confessed to her later that night that it only seemed right to have had a reading replete with scientific notation for a wedding between two people such as themselves). Melissa had read words as old as the institution of marriage itself and they exchanged simple rings and had eyes only for each other. Scully handed her bouquet -- a small posy of wild swamp azalea and yellow flag that Melissa had picked the hour before -- to her new sister in law as she strode up the peeling wooden steps of the house. Mulder had insisted upon carrying her over the threshold and Melissa and Samantha had stood back thoughtfully, and were now sitting closely on the beach, heads bent together, talking in hushed tones.
Scully didn’t know quite what to do with herself, dressed in old lace in the heavy salt air, her left ring finger feeling as heavy and pendulous as an old bell. Mulder wrapped his arms around her from behind and told her they never had to leave.
“Nobel Laureates live in Rhode Island, too, you know,” he whispered into the hair behind her ear.
“Mmm,” she said happily, watching her sister and his dig their feet in the gritty sand.
He kissed the skin where her shoulder met her neck. “Life can be as simple as the state motto.”
“Which is?” she asked.
“Hope.”
5. She stood above the riverbank, the grass a trampled, muddy squelch. A monkey called from overhead, a high primate shriek that echoed through the canopy. Its compatriots soon joined in, the welcoming committee announcing the rare arrival of a visitor.
He sat in the back of the approaching hollowed-out canoe, his knees practically to his neck, the lanky bones of him jutting out at all angles. He wore jeans and chambray, all wrong for the climate, but the blue set off the dark mink of his hair, and his eyes -- as green as the river upon which his boat perched -- caught hers from twenty yards away -- they held her gaze as the craft glided to shore, and he leapt off with the galumphing grace of a power forward.
“Dr. Scully I presume,” he said, finding his balance on the slippery shore and reaching a hand forward. She clasped it gratefully, then brought it to her belly, which was protruding out like a carved fertility statue, a life-sized goddess, gravid and full. “I thank God, doctor, that I have been permitted to see you,” he finished, and they embraced on the shores of the jungle river, perspiring and damp and finally, finally feeling at home.
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The Time Being (ao3 / ffn) catflorist Summary: Time-slipping is a side effect of wielding the Rinnegan. When Sasuke slips through time, he always goes to Sakura, whether he wants to or not. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8
pt 8: roots
"Your hair is so long now," Ino said, over a quiet dinner at Sakura's apartment. "Are you sure you don't want me to cut it?"
"It's okay, Pig," Sakura said, moving the food around on her plate.
"I'm going to miss seeing that forehead of yours," Ino said, voice bright, but she wasn't eating either.
Silence fell, and the food grew colder. Hime leapt onto the tabletop and pestered Ino for affection.
"Ino." Sakura took a deep breath. "Can you tell Tsunade-shisou and Kakashi-sensei not to worry?"
Ino touched Sakura's shoulder. "Of course I'll tell them."
The next day, Karin knocked at the door, carrying a traveling pack. Inside was a stack of Sasuke's clothes, neatly-folded with uchiwa fans facing up.
"I know a lot of his things must already be here," Karin said. "But I went by his place, and I thought you would like to have these."
"Aren't you coming?" Sakura asked.
Karin wrinkled her nose. "Jugo's found his calling. Suigetsu's students are pretty needy, and they cry a lot as it is. There's also my research. If I leave, I just know someone will ruin my samples." She looked out Sakura's window. "I think this village needs us now. We'll watch over it for you both."
When she visited Naruto, Sakura spoke directly, for his sake.
"I'm leaving, and I don't know if I'll be back," she said, hands folded on his kitchen table.
Naruto's eyebrows knit together. His features were built for joy, and Sakura did not know how to react to this sober expression.
"You're wearing the dobe's shirt," he protested quietly, staring at the floor. "Don't you want some of mine?"
Sakura let out the breath she was holding and sorted through his closet.
"Don't take that one, it has a stain…ouch!" Naruto cried, as Sakura crushed him in a hug.
"Ogenkide," she whispered to her friend. Be well even if I don't see you.
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The news broke on the sixth day. Uchiha Sasuke had abandoned his mission and once more cemented himself as a rogue nin. He did not even make it to Suna.
Whether he had made the choice, or the mission's absurd structure led to his failure, Sakura didn't know. The village had what they wanted.
For weeks after, Anbu agents followed her, Team Taka, and Naruto around the village. Sakura would wake up in the middle of the night at the slightest sound––the sink dripping, Hime purring. Her chakra never ceased boiling under her skin, prepared to fight at any moment. But after it became clear Sasuke was gone, and would not attempt anything rash, the Anbu vanished.
Sakura worked without rest to establish her pediatric center. It might be her last contribution to the village, and she wanted to do it right.
A year passed before the center was built, staffed, and operational.
Sakura packed her belongings, mostly her selection of Naruto and Sasuke's clothes, and did not request a leave of absence. She said her goodbyes.
One task remained. Sakura visited the square on her way to the village gates. Facing the council building she built, Sakura understood her mistake. It was impossible to coax deep-rooted, corrupted things to grow into a more pleasing shape. It was better to tear them from the soil and start fresh.
Murmurs of creaking wood filled the night air. The council building ungrew, shrinking back to the earth. In the morning, the citizens of Konoha discovered a tree marking where their government was once seated. This was Sakura's parting gift.
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As Sakura resided by the ocean, a young Sasuke appeared, again and again.
First he attacked her, then he pestered her with questions. Finally, he did not want to be around her at all. In the same moment he slipped into her home, he was already moving to slam the door on his way out.
Months passed and Sasuke's visits remained as consistent as the tides. Eventually his anger cooled to resentful acceptance. He did not even bother to punish her door. Sakura grew used to the sight of him sulking outside the house.
Beyond her long hair, Sakura made no effort to hide the uchiwa fan adorning her back. The answers to Sasuke's questions were obvious, if he cared to look, but he was blinded by pain and anger. Even if she told him the truth, he would not believe her.
One night Sakura awakened with a flash of movement outside the window. Sasuke knelt on the beach, curled over himself, shoulders trembling. The sound of his splash as he dove into the ocean broke the quiet of the night. Despite the fire and lightning in his blood, he plunged into the water like he couldn't breathe without it.
Sakura pulled the comforter from her own bed and walked down to the shore.
Sasuke trudged onto the beach. Without meeting her eyes, he accepted her offering. Soaking wet, the blanket comically large around him, for once he looked his age. The water had washed away all his defenses. A tired boy remained.
In his own world, Sakura did not know if he slept well at night, if he ate enough, if he stayed warm. When he accepted her blanket, she shivered in relief. At least in this moment, she ensured he was not cold, and alone.
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Sasuke finally accepted her tea, so Sakura knew it was the last time she would see him.
"You know what this is—why this is happening. At least say that much."
Today, he might understand. Sakura decided to answer. "Yes. I know why this is happening."
"How do you know?"
"I know because you told me."
The crease between his brow softened. Sakura bit her tongue to keep from crying, Don't you see? All this time, it's you I've been waiting for.
"Sakura––" he said. As her name dropped from his mouth, he took a step closer to her own Sasuke.
He slipped away. Sakura's role was over. The rest was his to uncover.
Hime darted down the path. Sakura squinted in the sun. A dark-haired figure bent to scratch the black cat between her ears.
The wind ebbed, and the waves quieted. Even the seabirds were no longer crying.
Sakura rose. She thought she would run to meet him, but her feet were roots anchoring her to the earth. It was all too dreamlike. If he were to turn on his heels and depart down the path, Sakura would not feel a thing. She would keep waiting until she dissolved into sand and seafoam.
Sasuke tilted his head to the sea. "Do you mind if I wash, first? I've come a long way."
A breeze picked up, rustling Sasuke's clothes, lifting Sakura's long hair.
"Take your time," Sakura said. "I'll be here."
Sasuke dropped his belongings where he stood. On the beach he undressed and dipped into the waves.
When enough time passed, Sakura brought him a change of clothes. He emerged from the waves without concealing his bare body, and Sakura did not look away. He dried off and pulled on the fresh clothes. Matching uchiwa fans winked on their backs.
He pulled her close, the spell broken. His skin was damp. Sakura buried her face into his neck. Tears came slowly, then they racked her body. She shuddered with a year's worth of sobs.
Sasuke traced her spine. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered. "It seems I've kept you waiting again."
When Sakura kissed him, he tasted like salt.
All her waiting was done. She and Sasuke were once more illuminated by the same sun, swimming through the same pool of time.
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In the southernmost tip of Fire country, there was a beach where two rock formations rose from the water. A weathered house perched by the shore, next to a long wooden dock housing a rickety fishing boat.
Seasons did not change in the south, so there were other markers of time––how many repairs Sakura performed on the house, how many seashells Sasuke added to the mantle of the hearth. They trained on the beach every morning, because old habits were hard to break. Tomatoes grew especially well in the loamy soil of their garden.
It was a peaceful life. No one knew where they were. No one was looking for them.
"What are you thinking about?" Sakura asked, sitting on the edge of the dock. A black-tailed gull alighted next to her, peering at their catch of the day.
Sasuke was staring at the blue sky, his long hair tied back. "I haven't slipped in a long time."
"You look a lot like you did, when I first saw you," Sakura said. "It could happen any day now."
"One last trip, then."
Sakura could not say why, but she was certain of this, too.
Sasuke tilted his head back. "The last time Itachi and I saw each other was a day like this."
Sakura watched waves roll under the dock. In a quiet corner of Konoha, a tall stone listed the names of each slain Uchiha. No stone bore Itachi's name. He had no resting place, no marker to commemorate his existence.
Her hands quietly shaped the familiar signs. A column of wood rose up the side of one rock formation. Branches stemmed from the main trunk, sprouting foliage. Like training the limbs of a fruit tree into orderly lines, Sakura twisted and curved the branches into the shape she envisioned.
The image of a raven in flight grew into the rock face, a relief of stone, branch, and greenery. Cliffside sculpture, honoring not six Hokage, but Itachi, and all the souls sacrificed in Konoha's name.
"It suits him," Sasuke said, reaching for her hand. "Do you ever think about the village?"
"Yes," she said. "Every day. I wonder if anything has changed."
To her surprise, Sasuke smiled. There was a familiar glint in his eye.
"You know something. Don't you?"
"I know something," he said, "though it took some time to understand."
He whispered it in Sakura's ear.
.
.
When Sasuke received the Rinnegan, his stomach dropped as if he had skipped a step. On one end of that feeling, he faced a god. On the other end, he was standing on a hilltop, gazing at a Konoha he did not recognize.
The Hokage mountain was a wall of green. Trees grew straight up the cliffside, a vertical forest. Foliage and vines hung like a curtain over the Hokage faces. Here and there, the corner of a mouth, the center of a large eye, a colossal tuft of hair, poked through the vast greenery. Sasuke wouldn't describe many things as beautiful, but the word came to mind.
A dark-haired young woman with glasses joined him on the crest of the hill. She had a delicate chin and a toughness to the bend of her spine. Sasuke remained silent. He could tell, by now, when someone was expecting him.
"We added to the monument," she explained, following his gaze. "It wasn't right to destroy it. It's important to remember. But a lot has changed. This isn't a place that carves faces into cliffs, anymore."
"You're not Sakura," he said.
"No, I'm not."
"Who are you, then?"
"Sarada."
He remembered this name from a dream.
"Uchiha Sarada," she continued.
Sasuke frowned. "Prove it."
Sarada drew in a deep breath. A wave of heat scorched Sasuke's face as she exhaled the signature fireball jutsu of the Uchiha clan. Flames larger than the crowns of trees licked the air, but none of the surrounding grasses were set alight. She possessed a fine control over her chakra that he had only seen in one other person.
The flames receded. "I can activate my Sharingan if you like," Sarada offered, touching a finger to her chin.
"No need," Sasuke said, smiling. Her eyes reminded him of Itachi's. "I see it."
He slipped back to fight alongside his teammates. To shape his future.
.
.
.
.
fin
–––––––––– this story is about two people finding each other. it's about trusting in yourself and in your heart. it's about doing the work to shape the world and the future you want––and at the end the ocean will be waiting.
thank you to: ––theredconversegirl and myr_art whose work first introduced me to the concept of time travel sasusaku ––my partner who spent hours close-reading every sentence so it could become a better story ––my friend di for her endless support and enthusiasm for everything i write ––every single person who has read and ever will read this story. even if you're reading 5 years in the future, please leave a comment so I can thank you for following along this journey with me! (and let me know if the pandemic over yet?)
and that's it! thank you, thank you, thank you! roya
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If you're still doing them maybe number 12 with both the ocean's siblings and their partners?
hell yeah!! i’ve put it under the cut :)) it is Very Tangentially holiday-sweater-related but it is too long to not post now! hope you enjoy, and happy holidays :))
It’s the first Christmas they’ve spent together in... nearly a decade and a half, actually. The years had flown by, blurring into a mess of run-ins and arguments and you stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine, but hey, Danny can’t fault his sister for wanting to make up for lost time. No, he can’t fault her (after all, if she had been the one to fake her death, he’d probably have moved into her house for a week, just to make sure she didn’t do it again) but he can make fun of her, so that’s what he does. “Aw, you really did miss me,” he says when she gives him and Rusty perfunctory hugs on her way into his house (Lou just claps them both on the shoulder, and he’s not sure whether to feel snubbed or relieved). “I can’t believe my dear sister actually cares,” he tells her when she brings him a mug of cocoa, ingredients nabbed from some billionaire in Germany. “Pure family bonding for the whole family,” he remarks when she goes off on a drunken, expletive-filled tangent about the Met Gala’s security over a game of poker (they’ve given up on trying to enforce the no-cheating rule, and he’s pretty sure Lou takes the opportunity to peek at Debbie’s cards). But in all honesty, he can’t keep up the ribbing; it really is good to see her, even if she definitely gets along better with Rusty (she’s told him as much, and right to his face, too) and the third day ends in a bitter, wine-fueled not-argument about their mother and their father and they themselves. But on the fourth morning Danny gets up early (it’s five in the goddamn morning, why the fuck has Lou already left a note on the counter saying gone on a run) to make latkes, and when Debbie comes downstairs she scoops out a dollop of his favorite sour cream instead of her usual applesauce, so unless her latke preferences have done a complete 180 since the last time he’s seen her, they’ve forgiven each other.
She and Lou volunteer to go on a grocery run that evening, and Danny’s glad; he hasn’t had the chance to jump Rusty’s bones in, like, five days (turns out cleaning up for houseguests takes up way more time than anticipated) (hey, the only people they’ve had over in years have been the crew from the Benedict job, and he’s heard Reuben threaten to shit on Turk’s feet, they don’t need to clean up for them). And for a minute, as Rusty pins him up next to the to-be-composted bag that is currently overflowing with potato scraps, the only thought in his head is the usual why didn’t we do this sooner. But then Rusty pulls back-- “Rus,” Danny complains-- and he tilts his head in that We Need To Talk manner. Which would be hot, if not for the fact that Rusty probably wants to talk about Debbie.
“You’re good, right?”
“We were never on bad terms.”
“Liar.”
“Well, hostile terms, maybe,” Danny amends. “But never bad.”
Rusty shifts, adjusting his forearms so it’s more like they’re just two good pals having a conversation three inches from each others’ faces instead of two good pals about to do very unsanitary things in a kitchen, and says, “I think you’re putting too much water under the bridge.”
“What am I, a Dutch engineer?”
“You’re very funny.”
“I know I am. Now, are we gonna--”
The door opens. Danny swears. “We were gone for twenty minutes,” Debbie says. “Are you that desperate?” Danny regrets going for the open-concept first floor, and he regrets it even more as Rusty pushes himself off with an air of utmost nonchalance.
“Here,” Lou says, lobbing a ball of fabric at Rusty. Her aim is remarkable, and Danny almost asks if she ever played softball before deciding he likes his well-being more than teasing his sister’s motorcycle-riding, brass-knuckle-owning girlfriend. It’s fine; next to him, Rusty huffs an amused laugh at the unsaid comment anyway. “Happy Christmas Eve.”
Rusty unfolds the fabric to reveal a truly hideous (and possibly offensive) Christmas sweater. It’s got red sleeves, a green torso, and a large, colorful fruitcake emblazoned on the stomach. Above it, in red and yellow, is text that reads FRUIT CAKE. “I love it,” Rusty says, pressing his lips together in that way that says he’s trying his damndest not to laugh. “It’s perfect.”
Lou opens her coat to reveal her own sweater, hers saying Ho Ho Homo. “I thought the theme was appropriate.”
“And for you, dearest brother,” Debbie says, pulling an atrociously-colored wad of wool out of a paper bag and chucking it at him, “you get the best of both worlds.”
With a mounting sense of horror, he recalls the year that he insisted on putting teal and orange streamers across the house, because it’s Hanukkah and Christmas mixed! That was the last year their parents had lived in the same house; Danny used to joke that it had been the final nail in the coffin for their mother. He pinches an edge of the cloth between two fingers and lets the rest fall open. It’s a Miami Dolphins holiday sweater. A teal-and-orange, festively-patterned Miami Dolphins sweater. Oh, his Boston-bred father would be frothing at the mouth. “We’re in Canada,” Danny says, equal parts shocked and awed. “How the hell did you get this here so quick? We were supposed to be meeting in Quebec until three days ago--”
“Danny, please learn what priority shipping is,” Debbie says. “Now c’mon. Wear it.”
There’s no way he can back out of this. If he refuses, she’ll just play the I thought you were dead card. He’s never regretted a decision more.
He puts on the sweater. Rusty-- his partner, his right hand, the love of his life-- wolf-whistles.
“I’m divorcing you,” Danny announces.
“Don’t worry,” Lou says with a grin, and is that her phone oh fuck she’s got a picture-- “Debbie, take off your coat.”
With the air of someone who has suffered the weight of the world, Debbie shrugs off her jacket. She’s wearing a matching sweater, and the dolphin on this one has a lovingly-embroidered smiling mouth stitched into it. Danny tries very, very hard not to laugh. “Shut it,” Debbie warns him.
“Oh, I’m not saying a thing,” Danny replies.
“We actually did get groceries,” Lou says, turning back to the door, “so--”
“Lemme give you a hand,” Rusty says. “Let these two bask in the joy of their new sweaters.”
“Fuck off,” Danny and Debbie say in unison. Rusty grins, cheery as ever, and leaves Danny’s side to follow Lou out the door.
“Great gift,” Danny says. “I’ll be laughed at by Reuben for the rest of my days.”
Debbie snorts, walking into the kitchen and rooting around in his cabinets. “Well, actually he’d-- wait, please tell me you didn’t, like, have gross old people se--”
“Shut up, Deborah,” Danny replies, feeling his neck heat up. “I’m only two years older than you. And no.” He refrains from adding on a “not this time.”
“Thank God,” Debbie says, pulling a glass out of the cupboard. “Anyway. Reuben’s not gonna laugh at you, he’s just gonna talk about your embarrassing baby stories in whatever groupchat you people have.”
Danny wonders how his baby sister got to be cooler than him. It’s very distressing. “That’s worse.”
“Yep,” she says, putting the pitcher down and picking her now-full glass up. She leans on the wall across from him, sipping her water, and narrows her eyes at him. “Are we, y’know... good?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Danny says. Besides the thirty years of vaguely pretending the other didn’t exist.
“I’m not gonna answer that,” Debbie says. “But... I’d just like to make sure. ‘Cause you’re the only not-completely-insufferable blood relation I have.”
Neither of them say anything for a moment; Danny picks at a loose teal thread, trying to think of how best to phrase the thoughts rattling around in his head. “I don’t hate you,” he finally says. “And I don’t dislike you, either. You’re a pretty good sister. And a great thief.”
“I know,” she replies. “I’m not gonna say it back, ‘cause then you’re gonna get an inflated ego.”
“Works for me,” Danny says, grinning a little.
“I guess it’s just... I mean, I let all the old resentment get in the way of, y’know. Having a decent relationship, personally or professionally.”
Danny nods. He’s still got the scar from the time they both went after the Ruby of the Isle; he’d won, but just barely, and only because he had Rusty and she hadn’t found Lou. But at the end of the day, neither of them have tried to kill the other, and they still did grow up together, playing in Atlantic City casinos and building sand castles under the boardwalk. “I think we’re too old for that now.”
“You’re the old one here,” Debbie replies, no bite in the remark.
“Only two years,” he reminds her. “But I did the same thing as you, letting petty grudges get in the way of family, and for that I’m sorry.”
“I am, too.”
“Thanks, Debs.” He frowns. “They’re taking a really long time to get the groceries, aren’t they?”
As if summoned, the door opens, and Rusty and Lou, each with a measly two bags in their hands, walk in. And Rusty has his phone in his hands. “Rus, I swear--”
“Too late,” Rusty grins, as the shutter sound rings out through the living room. “That outfit has already been immortalized.”
“Have I already said I’m divorcing you? I’m divorcing you.”
“Does it count as fratricide if he’s your brother-in-law?” Debbie asks.
“Disproportionate reactions,” Rusty accuses. “Besides, I’ve already sent it to Linus.”
Danny’s eyes widen. “Not Linus.”
“You heard me.”
His phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s a text from Linus Caldwell himself, consisting of a single thumbs-up emoji and two grinning cats. “You’re all terrible people. Terrible, terrible people.”
(the sweater rusty is wearing is real) (as is lou’s) (and the ocean siblings’)
#oceans 11#oceans 8#danny ocean#debbie ocean#rusty ryan#danny x rusty#debbie x lou#lou miller#my writing
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Third chapter of my OC fic ^_^
With this chapter, Solara will have met all of the Vermillion siblings. But she will also have to face her own unexplained emotions, which she tries to deny. 😉
This series will have mature content so reader discretion is advised.
Words: 4940
Chapter 3
Solara sat by the desk, slowly familiarizing herself with the documents and lingo used, making notes for herself of the formatting and writing down phrases she still needed to run by someone, in order to be certain of their meaning. She stopped only to rub her temples every now and then, giving her brain time to process all of the information that came her way. Hours ticked away but she barely noticed, until she struggled to grasp even simple sentence structures and she concluded to herself that perhaps she ought to stop for the day.
It was then that the door swung open, Mereo standing in the doorway with her hand on her hip, and a raised eyebrow.
“You still here?” Her tone was a strange combination of disappointment, amusement and disbelief, which in its absurdity made Solara chuckle.
“Well, it’s not like you really showed me around the base anyways, so I figured that someone was bound to show up eventually. Besides, I had a decent amount of time to collect some notes and phrases that I need to-“.
“Give it a rest,” Mereo interrupted while crossing her arms.
Silence fell between them as Solara put down the paper she was holding, frowning to Mereo, who close her eyes and sighed.
“We both need to eat something,” she remarked, her gaze directed blankly ahead of her, into the depths of the burgundy carpet. “And I was thinking that we’d make a small detour and go see my brothers before doing so,” she continued, her tone growing more silent.
Solara’s frown melted as sorrow veiled over her complexion at the sight of her friend. “Of course. I suppose one is long overdue,” she said, smiling to Mereo with softness as she got up from the desk.
Mereo’s gazed focused on her, lips curling up just enough to notice; their agreement being in the silent gaze they shared. But as they turned to leave, Solara wasn’t quite sure if she actually heard Mereo murmur under her breath with gritted teeth: “They should’ve told me sooner,” or if it was just a figment of her imagination as she couldn’t picture her beast of a friend murmuring anything.
She glanced to Mereo from the corner of her eye, searching for any signs of confirmation for what she supposedly had just heard. Mereo’s expression had fallen back to that of a blank stare into distance, a telling sign of her being deep in thought. I think… She probably thought out loud. A careful smile rose back to Solara’s lips as Mereo started leading her forward without a word. She’s not blaming herself, I know that much, but whoever it is that didn’t inform her of the situation faster than this… Well, I feel sorry for the poor soul.
---
As they walked down the corridor, only the sounds of their steps echoed from the walls. During their travels there had been many silences that had fallen between them, but none had borne the weight of this one. Mereo’s gaze was on the floor, and though her expression was stern and unwavering, it spoke of her worry. Solara knew that Mereo was the type to never show even the slightest traces of weakness, but she wasn’t made of stone. She had feelings just like everyone else, and this, this was her sorrow. It was woven into the unsaid words that hung in the air, and hidden behind her eyes that now seemed distant.
They reached a door, but before Mereo could open it, Solara placed her hand on Mereo’s shoulder. A soft smile emerged on Solara’s lips; her eyes instead filled with grief as they looked at each other for a moment that seemed longer than what it must’ve actually been. The frown on Mereo’s expression softened and a careful smile tugged the corners of her lips as well, while her other hand curled into a fist. Mereo turned to face Solara, nudging her onto her shoulder with the said hand, before taking a hold of the handle with the other.
Solara only nodded in reply, letting go of Mereo as she opened the door.
Leo was standing next to the bed with a blank expression, sunlight cascading into the room from the window, under which laid a figure. Solara looked at the young lion as his eyes still lingered on his brother, while Mereo closed the door.
The pair of green eyes finally turned to look at them, giving the two a stern gaze that lacked his former enthusiasm and cheerfulness. All of which was more than understandable, but still filled Solara with melancholy.
Mereo only nodded to her brother as she walked over to the bed, the two siblings standing on opposite sides of the bed like guardians to their brother. Silence hung heavy over them as neither had anything to say, or perhaps too much to say.
Solara saw Leo’s hand curling into a fist, and by instinct she moved closer to him from the foot of the bed. But as she did so, she felt another tug deep in her chest. As if pulled by threads of silken cobweb, her eyes turned to the figure that laid in the bed, and nothing could have prepared her for what followed. Despite all the whispers of the walls, the lingering implores and the unexplained warmth, she couldn’t have anticipated the twisting of strings of fate around her heart. She stopped in place, seeing nothing but him as she placed one of her hands on the footboard of the bed, fingers curling around it.
Her ears registered the fight that erupted between Leo and Mereo, but it was distant as if in a dream. There as something about Mereo being wrong about their brother, and Mereo shutting his opinions down, but Solara couldn’t concentrate on it. Not any of it. All she felt was the entwining of golden threads around her soul, into a tight embrace, one that had previously only existed as passing breaths, but now pulled her closer and closer.
But she knew that she couldn’t. She couldn’t just sit at his bedside and take his hand onto hers, letting herself to be submerged into the endless ocean of the fondest emotions. She couldn’t. No. And yet the threads kept pulling, and wrapped tighter around her heart, sinking into it, clenching it and tearing it, but still… she couldn’t.
And the worst part was that she couldn’t explain why she felt the unexplained deep desire to hold his hand, and assure him that it was all going to be alright. She couldn’t hold him in her arms and stroke his hair, while humming a gentle tune to his ear. And, for the life of her, she couldn’t tell why she had such feelings for a stranger. But he feels familiar. As if I’ve known him all my life. How- why am I-? I just feel like crawling into the bed and laying down next to him would be the most natural thing in the world. I could nuzzle against his neck and press a gentle kiss onto his cheek while placing my hand on his chest and…. And what am I thinking?! There is absolutely no reason for me to feel like this. Yes, he’s handsome I’ll give him that, and I’ve been told that… what have I actually been told? Well, Mereo calls him stupid constantly, but I take it that it’s all just because they’re siblings. I know that Leo looks up to him, so he must be very capable… But none of that explains anything. I’ve seen aesthetically pleasing, or handsome, men before who’ve been courteous and kind, and I’ve never felt such longing for them. Her fingers curled tighter around the footboard as she battled with herself.
Then a memory flashed through her mind. Solara remembered her mother telling her about something like this when she was young, but much like most children, she hadn’t imprinted the conversation into her mind. What was it that she said? Something about… “Your father and I, we gravitated towards each other. It was something that neither of us anticipated, but it was… like a cosmic dance where I was being pulled to him, as much as he was pulled to me. And for this brief passing second, we call life, we’ll keep tumbling towards each other, refusing to let go.” Something like that. I think it was along those lines. So… Is that what this is? Lo- Lov- No. It can’t be. I don’t know him, unlike my parents who knew each other. My fate isn’t tied to him… and even if it was, it doesn’t mean that his would be tied to mine. These whispers of belonging, they must be mistaken. The Tree of Binding Fates might be yet to tell me… She swallowed and was woken from her thought with a slamming door as Mereo left the room. Leaving the three of them in silence.
Leo’s brows were furrowed and he clenched his jaw, his entire body seeming tense.
“It’s going to be alright Leo,” Solara tried as she took a few steps closer to him with an empathetic smile.
“But aneue shouldn’t say that! Aniue has been working so hard for the squad, and when he comes back, he’ll prove her wrong!” His statement was firm and filled with young lion’s pride.
Solara placed her hand onto his shoulder, feeling him relax under her touch.
“I just… I just wish that I could help him recover,” Leo muttered, probably for the first time in his life.
His statement radiated with the purest of wishes, which took Solara aback for a moment, as she felt her already bleeding heart, cry for him, for the both of them.
“He knows that you’re here, standing by him,” Solara comforted while casting another soft smile to his direction.
“How can you know?” Leo asked while turning to her, his eyes pleading as he wanted to believe her statement.
“Well,” she paused for a moment as her thumb brushed the crumbs of uncertainty from his shoulder. “I’ve been told that people in a coma can still hear what happens around them. So, he hears your voice and what you tell him. And even if you didn’t talk to him, or in the unlikely event where he couldn’t hear you for some other reason, I’m certain that he feels your strong mana around, rooting for him to come back.” She paused once more as Leo processed her words. “He knows that you’re there for him. I’m sure of it. You’ve always believed in him, and he’ll always believe in you.”
The young lion blinked and a careful smile emerged onto his lips as he looked at his brother.
“But,” Leo paused, thinking how he should formulate his question. “If I want to make sure that he knows that I’m here, I should just talk to him?” He asked, turning to look at Solara once again.
She only nodded as a reply, while retracting her hand as she saw certainty rising back to his eyes.
“Does it matter what I talk to him about?” He continued, looking at Solara intently.
“Hmmm,” she hummed while her eyes shifted to the ceiling as she thought. “I don’t believe it does. I’ve heard that some even read books to their loved ones because they don’t really know what to say, so they’ve felt that to be an easy starting point.” She smiled as her gaze fell back to Leo, who was still staring at Solara with wide eyes. “Is that something you’d like to try?” Solara continued as her head tilted a bit, the comforting smile ever-present on her complexion.
Leo’s gaze shifted to his brother as he thought. “I don’t really know that many storybooks…” he mumbled as his gaze fell to the floor. The veil of sympathy wrapped tighter around Solara’s expression as the corners of her lips tugged further, for she felt the bond these two brothers shared, and which made the moment all the more melancholic.
“Well, do you know if he had one? Or if there was one that he used to read when he was younger?” She inquired, hoping to lead his train of thought forth into a haven of hope. And as his expression brightened, quite like the light of awaking dawn which repels the shadows of night each morning with the rising sun, making Solara feel warmth spreading across her body.
“Yes! There was a book he said he liked when he was my age! It was… um…” Leo seemed to have regained his energetic self in a blink of an eye. He put a hand on his hip as another scratched his head, while he tried to remember the name of the book. “I can’t remember,” he admitted before continuing. “But he gave me the book! So, I can just read it to him and he knows that I’m here, right?” Enthusiasm seeped from his entire being, his both hands now held in front of him, ready to face the obstacles laid before him.
Solara nodded to him, her action only fuelling him further.
“I’ll go get it right now!” He exclaimed and started running.
Solara followed him to the doorway and called out after him:” Leo! There’s time for that later, but you should…” her voice faded with the sentence as the vermillion haired boy had already disappeared behind a corner. “Get something to eat first…” she finished her sentence, out loud, but speaking to no one. Her posture slouched forth as she sighed, but regained it as soon as she heard steps approaching her.
She turned around to see Randal walking to her direction with a cape in hand.
“Hello,” she greeted as she turned around, giving him a smile.
“Hello,” he replied and paused, thinking if he should make a comment or not. “You’ll have to excuse Leopold, he’s quite energetic and very quick on his feet.” He stated, his tone staying steady and formal.
“Ah, it’s completely understandable,” she smiled, loosely waving her hand in front of her as if to brush off the action.
Randal only nodded as a reply, while taking the last few steps towards her and handed out the cape he was holding. “Here’s the cape Captain Mereoleona requested for you. Welcome to the squad,” he smiled.
As far as Solara could tell, he was being sincere, but given that she had just taken over some of his work, there was something she wished to ask. Since she knew that the action could be seen as interfering with his territory. Thus, she felt a compelling need to clarify something to him as she took the cape from him, holding it in her arms. “Thank you. I’m glad to be here. But can I clarify something with you?” She asked, her smile turning to that of slight hesitance.
Randal’s expression became that of intrigue as he replied: “Of course.” There was no judgement, nor even a hint of malice in his eyes, which alleviated Solara’s worry.
“Well, as the newest addition to the squad I know that I technically shouldn’t be taking care of any of the paperwork, and my intention isn’t to step on your toes. So, if you feel like I’m overstepping my boundaries, and crossing onto your territory as the Vice Captain, I do hope that you tell me.” She gave him an awkward smile, hoping that she had succeeded in relaying her intentions.
Randal seemed surprised for a brief second before the expression faded, and a smile rose to his lips as his gaze fell to the side. “Well, as long as we’re having an honest conversation,” he paused long enough to gaze back at Solara. “I’m glad to finally have someone to do the work with me. You see, before the work was divided between myself and Captain Fuegoleon. And during the time he has been incapable of completing those duties, it has all fallen onto my shoulders. So, I’m- I’m afraid that I’ve fallen behind,” he admitted, a shadow of shame passed over his complexion and he sighed. “I’m just glad to have someone to help me, and I trust that Captain Mereoleona wouldn’t assign you to it if she wasn’t certain that you could take care of it,” he smiled, gratitude radiating from his expression. And with that the last traces of hesitance washed from Solara, making her feel lucky to have been welcomed with such warmth.
“I do hope to live up to the expectations,” she chuckled. “But there are a few questions I’d like to ask regarding the forms and lingo. As this isn’t my native language, I seem to find myself struggling a bit already,” she admitted with a slight frown.
“Of course. I’m happy to help the helper,” he smirked with good will, making Solara giggle. He joined her in her laughter for a brief moment as they shared gratitude for one another.
Once the laughter settled down, she continued: “So, is this a good moment or… um?” She asked, tilting her head slightly.
“Well dinner is served soon, so we can start at the dinner table if you feel comfortable with it. Or then we can talk afterwards.” He thought out loud, his gaze shifting to the ceiling before falling back to her.
“Either is fine for me. After all, in addition to my questions you need to fill me in on the most pressing matters that should be taken care of, post haste,” she shrugged.
“True,” Randal nodded as silence fell between them for a moment. Both thinking where should they start.
“Well, if we start already on our way to the mess hall, we’ll get matters moving quicker,” she stated, earning another nod of agreement form Randal.
Solara closed the door to Fuegoleon’s sickroom, seeing his form from the corner of her eye, which caused the golden strings to clench around her heart once more. A veil of sorrow passed her complexion as the walls whispered to her again, imploring her to stay. I can’t. She only thought, trying to brush it all away from herself, but only succeeding to press it deep down into the back of her head. This’ll pass. I’m sure of it. This is a crush and nothing more, so it’ll pass. All I have to do is wait it out. She tried to convince herself, force herself to believe that to be the case, but the flicker of hope is one the hardest thing to snuff out, only allowing her to deny its existence. So, it remained, small, and quiet, but it remained. She could push it away as much as she wanted, and try to deny it to the best of her ability, but it still flickered.
The door closed, alleviating her aching heart. The feeling grew quieter as they walked away, beginning the discussion on what Solara already knew about the tasks at hand, and moving to comparing the differences in legal procedures between Clover Kingdom and Thea. But only to the extent where they were able to confirm or invalidate similar practises, based on which they’d be able to determine areas that needed to be addressed further. Their conversation carrying through the dinner, Solara being seated near Randal in order to keep the conversation going. Mereo appeared, only making a comment on them finding common ground rather quickly, but not otherwise interfering with the conversation.
Everyone seemed friendly, making introductions and some friendly conversation, but still giving room for Solara and Randal to finish their discussion. The only one to arrive late for dinner, was Leo, a frown painted over his expression once more.
Solara’s brow furrowed at the sight of him, but she didn’t wish to hurt the young lion’s pride and address the issue right there, in front of everyone.
“Hey, Leo?” She asked in a suitable point of the flowing conversation.
“Yeah?” He asked, clearly trying to hide his troubles and putting on a brave face. But his tone spoke far too loud of the worry that must’ve curled into his bones once more.
“There’s something I’d like to talk about with you a bit later on, if that’s okay?” She gave him a reassuring smile, making the corners of his lips turn slightly upwards.
“Yeah, it’s alright.” He stated with a weak smile, a flicker of gratitude passing through his eyes.
“Wonderful,” she only said, not wanting to make a scene of the situation, all others seeming to pay no attention to the brief interaction, or thinking nothing of it. Only Mereo raised an eyebrow, but opted to say nothing.
---
After dinner Solara and Randal spent a considerable amount of time in the Captain’s, and Randal’s offices, revising documents and laying groundwork for the following day, sun already having set as they were able to wrap things up. Solara left Randal’s office, only to find Leo waiting behind a corner.
“Hey,” she greeted, giving him a tired smile.
“Hey,” he replied his gaze falling to the side.
“What’s going on?” She asked, as guilt of making him wait this long tugged at her heartstrings.
“I-,” he paused as he held out a book, his eyes falling to its cover. “I tried to read it to him, but I kept skipping over lines, or reading them twice, and then sometimes I had to stop to pronounce words correctly, and it wasn’t good story telling…” his confession fell from him onto the book and tumbled down onto the floor with a loud clang that echoed around the hallway.
Seeing him so defeated twisted her heart, subsiding her own fatigue as sadness washed over her. “Maybe it’d help if you first read the chapter to yourself quietly, and then read it to him,” she suggested, trying to meet Leo’s gaze.
He only grit his teeth, his fingers curling tighter around the book. “I tried that, but it didn’t help,” he forced the words out of his throat, their sharp corners slicing his tongue on their way out.
A brief silence fell between them as Solara search for words of comfort to give him, but felt powerless to help him. After all, there was so little she could actually do for him, and that little felt so inadequate.
“May I?” she asked while holding her hand out, Leo’s gaze lifting only enough to reach the tips of her fingers.
He said nothing, but handed the book to her. His eyes travelled with the motion as Solara held the book out to herself. She turned the pages to the first chapter, letting her index finger glide across the lines. The spacing between the lines is quite thin actually. It’d be difficult to keep track while reading out loud even if using a finger as a cursor. She thought for a moment, but as she became aware of her note sheet, that was still in her hand from her talks with Randal, an idea dawned on her.
“Hmm,” she hummed as she took the paper and folded it to reveal a blank surface. She placed the folded edge under the first line and began to read, moving the paper and revealing new lines as the story advanced, but stopped after the first paragraph. Her eyes lifted from the book and met with Leo’s, whose were now wide open, his mouth agape. “See, you can use a blank piece of paper to help you keep track of the line you’re on,” she smiled and held the book out, handing it back to Leo.
“You should read to him!” Leo exclaimed, making Solara’s brows shoot up in surprise.
“I-,” she paused as her expression softened back to what it had been, “Wasn’t this supposed to be for him to know that *you* are there for him?” she asked, but feeling a tiny bit flattered.
“What matters is that he knows that somebody is there for him! It doesn’t matter if it’s me reading or someone else, as long as he knows,” Leo stated firmly while taking Solara’s hand and started pulling her towards the sick room.
“Leo, I-,” she began, but didn’t really know what to say. Still Leo heard the hesitance in her voice, so he turned around to look at her, his hand still holding on.
“Would you read to him, please?” His tone was stern and determined, telling her just how much this meant to him. But what made Solara unable to turn down his request, even if she had wanted to, was the implore in his eyes.
She looked straight at him, seeing that he wasn’t going to give up without resistance. And quite frankly, she had no objections in going along with his wish, given that he indeed was fine with her reading in his place.
She blinked slowly, her expression melting to that of a soft smile and sympathetic gaze as she replied: “if that’s what you wish.”
Leo’s eyes lit up once more as a prominent smile rose to his lips in triumph. “I can listen too, can’t I?” He asked, excitement radiating through his question as his grip of her grew more intense with his enthusiasm.
“I can’t see why not,” she said, tilting her head as she hadn’t really imagined herself ever reading to people, but saw no harm in it. I can’t really say that I’m a storyteller, but if it makes him feel better, suppose it’s alright. She thought as Leo started pulling her forward once more.
“Um, Leo? Where are we going?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“To aniue! Let’s start the story already today!” He didn’t as much as turn his head back to Solara, only focused to move forward.
She let out a faint sigh. It’s already late, and we both should be going to bed… But if it’s just for tonight, then suppose it’ll be fine. For the future we need to establish some kind of a schedule though, but… as things are already in motion, suppose staying up a little bit later for today is acceptable. She frowned slightly, but said nothing as she knew this to mean a lot to him, destroying his newfound feeling of security and comfort being the last thing she wished to do.
“Leo, there’s no need for you to pull me. I can walk on my own,” her tone stayed calm and gentle, but was spoken loudly enough for him to make no mistake.
“Oh right. Sorry,” he stated as he glanced to her and let go, rubbing the back of his head briefly.
“It’s alright,” she replied as they continued forward, a more profound silence lingering in the air as the base was starting to quiet down. And as it did, the pull towards the sick room grew more intense. The tugging and twisting made her want to run, but it’d do no good. It’d serve no purpose and she had no right. She grit her teeth, once more wanting to snuff out the lingering feeling, but didn’t get very far.
Eventually they reached the room, Solara forcing herself to keep her gaze away from the man who laid on the bed. Which proved to be difficult as she sat down on a chair next to him, Leo moving a chair onto the opposite side, facing her.
Just concentrate on the book and take deep breaths. This’ll pass. It’s nothing. She held the book out and began reading, Leo listening to her intently as the story unfolded. Minutes ticked away, but none noticed the time passing, as they were immersed with the plot. And as the first chapter ended, Solara put down the book, telling Leo that they should get to sleep. He protested, but gave in as they agreed to continue tomorrow.
Darkness prevailed outside, and the only light source in the room was a single candle that cast its soft glow around, shadows dancing with the flickering flame. Solara encouraged Leo to get some sleep as she summoned her radiating mana skin, extending from her fingertips as if as claws, to cast some more light into the room before snuffing out the candle.
“I’m not that tired,” Leo yawned, making Solara raise an eyebrow at him; a hint which he understood and got up to leave.
Solara stayed behind to move the chairs away from the bed, making a few yawns of her own. But as she passed the man in deep, deep slumber, she couldn’t help but whisper out a question: “Who are you to me?” A pointless question she needed to ask for reasons that she couldn’t fathom, and yet… despite knowing that she wouldn’t get an answer, she felt strange comfort rising from it. As if by acknowledging him, they would have gotten closer; the tugging of the strings of fate easing up for the moment. She scoffed at herself for being ridiculous, and shook her head while making her way to the door.
But as she was about to make her leave, the door being open by only a mere crack anymore, she stopped and whispered: “Good night.” Her voice barely reached her own ears, the action making her feel like a fool once more. But with those words she was able to close the door and retire for the night, wondering if staying here was actually a good idea as she questioned her sanity. But still, leaving seemed more painful than it should. So, for now, she settled for rubbing her temples and trying to work her way around the emotions that she shouldn’t have had. This will pass. A sentence that became a mantra for her. A mantra that lost gravity each time she repeated it.
#black clover#black clover fanfiction#black clover oc#oc; solara#embers of sun and flame#chapter 3#fuegoleon x solara#fuelara
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Prologue of A Year Without Welcome To The Foot
Karai finally gets her hands on Leo and begins the process of making him hers.
WARNING: RAPE/NON CON
Here is the story that follows this nugget
The cold; that was the first thing he realized when the haze of unconsciousness lifted. The second was the unfavorable position he was now in, stripped of all gear and his clothes besides the tight boxer briefs clinging to his muscular thighs and that he was restrained to a large metal table. The only good thing was that his many cuts and abrasions he had sustained from his fight with Karai and the Foot were now bandage. He mentally berated himself; he had gotten sloppy and forgot to pay attention to his surroundings for a few moments and that moment of lapse in his training had cost him dearly.
It had been a slow night; Don had remained home with you back at the lair and Raph and Mikey were scattered about the city with their own watch. Each of his younger brothers had chirped in his ear to end the night, something about a video game that needed conquering. Making the call he pressed his thumb down on the com beginning his order to call it a night. “Alright guys, it’s been slow…” mid-sentence he heard them, heard the shuriken wiz by slicing the wire to his com severing the connection with his brothers.
The comm dropped from his fingers as he dodged several bodies aimed for him all holding what looked like a net, they may have caught him off guard, but he wouldn’t make it easy for them.
The muscle bound mutant rolled away from their searching hands but managed to end up before a smug Karai, hands on her hips, katana in hand. Before the fight had even started she knew she had won. He was hopelessly outnumbered.
The fight he put up sent many of her men to their early graves but in the end, Leo was outnumbered and outflanked and with a tranq dart to his neck from long range got them the edge they needed to secure the leader. They had caught him unawares and it cost him his freedom.
Now he was god knows were, defenseless and at their mercy.
He sat alone in that room for nearly 30 minutes before he heard the clicks of her high heels against the cement floor approaching the door. The door handle turned and the dark hair Kunoichi slipped soundlessly into the room. She stayed back watching him with her hands hidden behind her back. Her dark brown eyes drug over him in a predatory gaze making him feel like a piece of meat on display.
“What do you want Karai?” he finally rumbled angrily. Her red lips parted into a wide smile that gave him chills, this wasn’t a welcoming smile, oh no this toothy grin promised agony that hadn’t even begun.
“Want?” she tutted pushing away from the wall. “I already have what I want….” She came up beside Leonardo allowing her right hand to run up the length of his calf all the way to the muscular thigh stopping just before she reached the substantial bulge in his underwear. She licked her lips hungry for the prize that lay beneath.
When her eyes met his Leo knew exactly what she meant and growled yanking at his unforgiving restraints, “I am not an item to be picked off the shelf for your entertainment Karai. I am not yours, nor will I ever be.”
She ignored him and continued her examination keeping the pads of her fingers on his green flesh. “I’ve waited so long for this moment Leonardo; I’ve dreamt of it actually. I’ve woken up breathless and throbbing with my unspent desire for you. Finally I have you to myself, to see what this magnificent body of yours can do to mine.” Eyes hooded she leaned down to him. “I wonder if your can smell my need for you right now?”
That he did, it was pungent and sour, a testament to her promiscuity within the clan. “You will do nothing to this body; it does not belong to you. I’m warning you Karai, do not touch me.”
“Ahh my dear Leonardo that is where you are wrong…at least for the moment.” Finally, her other hand appeared holding a syringe and her thumb pressed down a little on the plunger to expel a thin stream of the liquid held inside. “Besides what will you do if I do take what I want from you? You are far from home and your brothers my love and without your tracking beacon in your com I’m afraid a rescue attempt will be unlikely. But I do have good news, have you ever desired to see Japan Leonardo? Because that is where you are, several floors below ground in Foot Headquarters in Tokyo Japan.”
Leo felt his heart begin to beat wildly behind his chest plates. He was across the ocean in Japan and more importantly what was in her hand? He shifted in his restraints now focused fully on the substance in the syringe. His tongue darted out moistening his dry lips and Leo locked eyes with his deadly capture. “What’s in the syringe Karai?”
Karai smiled sweetly at the panicking terrapin and began to take her shoes off letting them clatter to the cold floor. Next her fingers found her belt and with one hand shimmied out of her tight black pants and slipped her shirt over her head. There she stood half naked in her deep blue lace bra and panties. There was no way that wasn’t coincidence.
“Do you like them Leo? I wore them just for you, for our first time…..”
“No.” he snapped in a commanding voice, Hoping maybe he could talk some sense into her “You are not going to do this. There is no honor is rape Karai, because that is what this will be if you continue on this path. I am not willing. What’s in the syringe?” He asked again.
Karai taped a finger on the glass tube gently making the liquid slosh around. “Oh this? This is something very important my love. This serum is fresh off the press and ready to help you see things my way. In fact you’ll be happy to obey my orders and you’ll be my right hand man, my companion, my lover. You see, I’ve wanted you for a very long time you troublesome turtle. You’ve defying me for the last time, you belong to me now, to the foot.” She ran the tip of the needle over his thigh and up the tender green skin between his carapace and plastron. “This is the first dose, to make you pliable, confused and compliant. I need you disoriented for this process to work.”
“What process? Karai? Please don’t do this?” You ran through his mind, his brothers, he was in trouble and no one knew where he was. Then he felt it, the sting of the needle piercing the scales in the crook of his arm. He hissed and watched helplessly as the kunoichi pressed the plunger down injecting the unknown substance into his veins.
The effects were almost instantaneous, a flood of warmth converged through his system fogging his senses. Leo’s head lulled back and forth trying to pull his thoughts back; he tried focusing on you, your face, and your laugh. “Y/N” he moaned helplessly seeing your face fade into the haze.
Fighting with himself Leo felt someone get on the table, moving over him and straddling his hips. Then warm wandering hands began roaming digging into the hard muscle of his thighs, slipping under the thin fabric that was his only sanctuary in this mess.
“Leo.” A soft voice cooed gently in the fog, “I want you.”
“Y/N?” he called again confused, what was happening?
“No Leo it’s me, Karai, your love, your mate.” Karai leaned forward into his blurry field of vision.
His blue eyes blinked rapidly trying to clear his vision, and the confusion bloomed when warm lips covered his. Slow and deep the kiss progressed quickly and Leo couldn’t help but rumble into the mouth that demanded his obedience, his surrender.
Karai did her best not to squeal in delight as Leo’s confusion continued and now he was starting to respond to her kiss. His lips parted allowing her tongue to taste the sweetness of his mouth sweeping over his tongue. The Doctor was worth his weight in gold, it was working! Leonardo was going to be hers.
She rocked her hips into his groin, two thin pieces of fabric separating her from her ultimate goal, the terrapin’s glorious cock. Her cunt snapped at the thought of it and was absolutely soaking being so close to its prize. Karai released his mouth and traveled south licking her way down the scarred plastron. When her mouth came to the V of his thighs she found his cock already half hard from the concoction running through his veins.
She pulled down the elastic of his underwear and palmed the rapidly swelling flesh, covering the leaking helm with her mouth savoring the musky flavor of the mutant. It was even better then she had imagined.
When his hips bucked up in reaction Karai sunk down to the root of him swallowing when he rammed into the back of her throat. She hummed around the embedded flesh and the terrapin lifted his hips and moaned. “That’s it give in to me.” Karai crooned in her mind.
Karai took advantage of the lift and snuck both hands under his ass grabbing at the dense muscles there. She hollowed her cheeks and began to bob her head up and down working the turtle into a whimpering frenzy.
Leo’s breath hitched and growled, “Karai stop…I-I don’t want this….gods help m-meee…fuck…”
With a pop her mouth came free of his cock and she crawled up his body straddling his hips once again. “You’re mine now Leo, you can never go back to her, but your brothers are part of my plan and they will follow soon enough but I need you first, body and soul.” Karai reached down to her panties and moved to the side gripping his throbbing length in her hand giving it a commanding squeeze.
The fog grew thicker dulling everything he was, he could feel her touching him, sucking him. He didn’t want this, this wasn’t right…..please someone help. The cold was seeping away now; fire bloomed in his veins as he tried to fight its hold on him. He was losing.
As the cold air hit his cock and her body slipped up to cover his hips Leo tensed. Her hand gripped him hard and he shifted his hips trying to move free of her unwanted grasp. “Please…stop..” he tried again but she didn’t relent and when she slowly lowered herself onto his cock Leo squeezed his eyes shut as the tight heat engulfed him.
“Oooh..ooOohhh…fuck…Leooooo.” Karai sang as his massive length filled her eager cunt to the point of pain. She had never taken someone so big, the mix of pain and pleasure was mind numbing and she cried out at the euphoria of their union.
When she finally took every pulsing inch he had to offer Karai let out a low whimper at the sheer fullness of it all. She stilled as her ass rested on his lower plastron and she could feel the faintest twitch from the embedded flesh. It was overwhelming, glorious and she wanted it all and now she had it.
After adjusting to his turgid length she lifted her hips pulling almost free of the rooted flesh and slammed back down making both parties gasp. As the pain began to subside and bloom into a raging inferno of bliss Karai tilted her hips and began to ride the confused terrapin with enthusiasm. “Leo…mmmmfuckk..you’re so bi…FUCK! I didn’t know it would be this good!”
Leo tried so hard to keep his body from responding to the unwanted stimuli. No matter how much he concentrated the serum coursing through his blood stream was taking away his will. His hips lifted on their own accord to meet every downward thrust Karai gave. Even the tight coiling heat in his belly was spiraling out of control. He didn’t want this but Karai knew what she as doing, she knew where to touch, how to angle her body to make sure her silken core ran over the right spots of his cock. His fingernails scrapped across the metal as Leo fought of control, he didn’t want to give her his seed, and it wasn’t for her. It was for……..who was it for again? He belonged to someone right? He wasn’t supposed to be here, this woman atop of him wasn’t supposed to be doing this? Right? But then why did it feel so good? No, he was being raped, he was being taken without his permission. Karai was raping him!
“S-stopp…..shell….please….oh gods!” he moaned thrashing beneath the determined kunoichi.
“If y-you don’t like it then why are you so fucking hard?!”
His cock was aching from the very base to the tip as she gripped the sides of his plastron, nails digging into his exposed sides. Karai ground down suddenly making the tip of his member press to the back of her sodden canal. The pressure burned at the base of his cock and when she lifted quickly drug her cunt over the underside of his head and she arched crooning her pleasure and then tensed.
“Leoooo….LEO SO GOOD! I’mmm going…too…Oh my god!! LEOOO!”
He felt the flood of her release first then the muscles of her core constrict around him as Karai sped up her rhythm now dropping down to meet his driving hips. She began to flutter around him pulling at his release Leonardo had been trying so desperately to withhold. The heat in his belly coiled tighter and as his name resounded throughout the small room the thread finally snapped on his famous control and his climax hit hard. The muscles in his thick legs tensed pushing up into the body above him sinking the rapidly expanding length into the willing heat that was surrounding him. Leonardo roared pouring every pulse of his cum into her warmth milking him into oblivion. His balls clenched pushing every drop of his ejaculate out giving all he had to his captor.
As his heart beat faster and his inhibitions lowered from the serotonin flooding his system the serum worked its magic seeping into his brain dulling memories and his free will. His brothers faces faded, you faded, the lair and his life as he known it. He was losing it all.
Karai gripped his face and kissed Leonardo fiercely as they both came down. Her hips rolled feeling him still rock hard within. “We are far from done with you my love but this process will be so delicious. Welcome to the Foot Leonardo.”
@blossom-skies @imthegreenfairy88 @ravn-87 @bayverse-turtle-power @hollybunch95 @southernblossoms
#tmnt#foot leo#a year without#prologue#tmnt fandom#tmnt fanfiction#tmnt fic#TMNT TMNT fanfiction#lemon#rape#non/con
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Luna wakes up
The wind blew through the forest I knew so well. Every tree, every root, every leaf, it sang to me. It hadn’t always been like that, I had preferred the ocean from the day I was born. I remembered Makino say that I had learned to swim before I learned to walk, the ocean had just always felt like home and when grandpa had me and Luffy move to the mountain, I was horrified. Leave the ocean? For the mountains? Surrounded by trees instead of the horizon? Was grandpa trying to kill me?! Probably, he could be a mean old man. But I was alive and smiled at the blue sky, the forest hadn’t been easy to get used to, but I had Luffy that was constantly excited about something new and then we had Ace, it took a while for him to warm up to us but he still went to get me when I got lost in the forest. We eventually met Sabo when me and Luffy got caught by Porchemy and both Sabo and Ace went to save us. The four of us were inseparable after that night.
Ace would often help me get my bearings in the forest until I knew it like the back of my hand. Sabo took interest in my ability and it was fun to just play around even when nothing came out of it. Luffy would often find bugs that he found interesting and would bring them to me, they creeped me out at first, but he’d start going on about how awesome it is and I started to actually find them cool too – except spiders. Spiders creep me out.
“What are you thinking about, Lu?” Ace’s voice came from my right and I looked over at him.
“Spiders.” I shivered but he just laughed as he was lying on the floor with me.
But he wasn’t the only one laughing, I had another brother laughing on my left “Why are thinking about spiders, idiot? You hate spiders!” it was Sabo.
I covered my face with my hands as I hit my legs against the floor “I know!”
“Do you think they’re cool now?!” Luffy was suddenly looking down at me with a giant smile and I was so startled that I jumped up and we smacked heads.
“LUFFY!” I complained holding my forehead “No! Spiders are gross! And creepy!” I shivered again.
Sabo chuckled as he pointed at me “Lu… You have a thing there again.”
I looked at where he was pointing, at me but since I was now facing them, it was slightly to my right. A white cat like tail with black stripes. It was wiggling. “AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!! NOT AGAIN!” I started running around trying to get rid of it, but since it was mine, it obviously would follow me.
Ace laughed and Luffy just found it neat while Sabo tried to calm me down “Just calm down Luna. It’ll go away if you calm down.”
I stopped running, looking at tail that came out of the end of my back “I don’t know why you’re freaking out so much. It’s just a tail.” Ace pointed out still laughing.
“I’m just not used to it… I guess…?” I moved the tail a bit again, narrowing my eyes at it.
Sabo crossed his arms over his chest as he smiled “Well, it’s part of your devil fruit power, if you can’t swim, might as well make the most of it, right?”
I tilted my head but before I could say anything, Ace spoke “Plus, you kind of have to if we’re all gonna be pirate captains one day.”
“I don’t wanna be a pirate captain.”
Luffy looked at me, seemingly worried “What do you mean?! I thought we were both gonna be pirates, Luna!”
“Yeah!” Sabo agreed “You wanna be Queen of the sea one day, don’t you?!”
“I do! And I will!” I insisted, meaning every word “But… If we all become pirate captains, then we’ll all be apart… I don’t want to be out there all alone…” they weren’t laughing anymore and we didn’t tend to be this quiet “So I’m gonna be the Queen of the Seas! But I refuse to be a captain.” I looked amongst my three older brothers and smiled again “I’m gonna be Luffy’s first mate! The King of the Pirates can’t have any less than the Queen of the Seas as a first mate, right?”
“And someone needs to look after Luffy when we’re gone.”
I looked at Sabo surprised by his tone of voice “Wha— What are you talking about, Sabo…?”
He shrugged like it was nothing “Well… I’m going to sea now…” I was too shocked to have much of a reaction but he stepped over to me and kissed my head “Be safe, baby sister…” and he faded in flames.
I reached out to him but Luffy held my free hand “Sabo…” As I turned to Ace, he was older now adjusting his cowboy hat even if I remained the same little girl with my green dress and bare feet “Ace…?”
He smiled at me “He’s got a point…” he walked over to me and leaned down to my eye level, putting his hat on my head “Look, it’s just you and Luffy now and I know it might be scary, you never liked to be alone… But I’ll be watching over you, sis…” he then dropped to his knees and I felt the blood dripping down my hand that rested on his back.
“Broth—Brother…?” I looked at the red forming around us “You’re gonna be alright… What are you talking about…?”
“Thanks for loving me, Luna… Luffy…” he cried… I had never seen him cry before “Someone like me, that didn’t even deserve to be alive … Look after each other…”
And he also disappeared in flames “ACE!!!” I started to cry under my oldest brother’s cowboy hat.
“It’s my turn now, Luna.” I turned around to find Luffy holding his straw hat, an older Luffy, a stronger Luffy, while I remained the same…
“No! You can’t!”
He turned to me and smiled “It’s ok, I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He put his straw hat on and his face turned serious “You’re my sister and I’ll never let anyone hurt you.” He dropped my hand and started walking away.
“Luffy…?” I cried more and started to run after him, but no matter how fast I ran, I could never catch up with him. I took a deep breath through my tears and called out my twin’s name as loud as I could.
I was sitting up in bed before I realized. The room was dark. I couldn’t breathe. Luffy! Where’s Luffy? Where’s my brother?! I heard some pained whimpers from beside me, I knew it was Luffy. I pulled some tubes from my skin and got the blankets from over me, rushing to him. I didn’t know where we were but it was dark and Luffy was contorting in pain, all wrapped up in bandages and seeming like he was fighting his own nightmares, his hand clung to mine when I reached for him. “I’m here…” I coursed my fingers through his dark hair, it was straight like mine but not nearly as long, it was sticky from the sweat “We’re… We’re gonna be…” I started to cry and couldn’t finish what I was saying… I never did have the heart to lie to him… I remembered getting the news… I remembered Impel Down and missing him in the nick of time… I remembered the pain we went through to get out… I remembered the army we rose to get to our brother… I shook as I remembered how he always felt just out of reach… I remembered the sea turning to ice. I remembered the war, the pain, the panic, the burning in my muscles, the sharpness of my breath… Vice-Admiral Garp, the hero of the Navy… Coward. I remembered the noise, the screams, the canon fire and the desperation fuelling my every breath… I remembered old man White Beard showing up with Marco and the others… I remembered…
My knees gave out with the flood of memories and my hand slipped from Luffy’s so that I could support myself on the floor. I bit my lip as to not make a sound but the emptiness in my chest was too much… Ace… I punched the floor with my right fist. My brother… I punched the floor with my left fist. A sob escaped my lips through the corner of my mouth and as my arms kept on punching the floor, an animal like scream escaped my throat. It was too much. Not again, I couldn’t deal with losing a brother again! I cried into the darkness of the room as long and loud as my lungs would let me. There was blood splashing on my face from my punches on the floor but I couldn’t bring myself to stop… I hadn’t changed at all from back then! I was just as weak! Just as useless! Just as powerless to save my own brother… Again… And now Luffy was hanging to life for a thread and there’s nothing I can do…
I raised both my fists at the same time in anger and heartbreak, so lost in grief that I didn’t notice someone come into the room. They grabbed me from behind and tried to restrain my arms, in my blind anger I struggled and I know my elbow hit something before I heard an unfamiliar voice behind be “Room! Shambles!”
Next thing I know… I’m waking up.
I don’t remember dreaming… I could’ve sworn that I was still in the same room… I looked to my left to see Luffy still lying on the other bed, still wrapped in bandages and connected to tubes… I looked away to find a tall guy sitting by my bed, I could only see his profile but he was reading a book despite the bags under his eyes “Who the hell are you?”
He glanced over at me with his black eyes as I sat up straight and he closed his book “I’m the guy that patched you two up.” He put his book on the bed I was lying on and turned to face me fully which was when I noticed what my elbow had hit before, his face “Then for my troubles, I get a black eye.”
I feel the tension leave my body and I look at my brother “Thanks for saving us.” And I looked back at the stranger “Sorry about the black eye, I kind of lost it… It hasn’t been an easy week.” I rubbed my face as I pulled my knees up but his tattooed hand quickly reached out for my knee closest to him.
I looked at him and he looked over at me “Your stitches are still healing, they might open if you compress your muscles like that.” Stitches… I let my legs down and looked down at my body, I was also covered in bandages, even my hands. I moved my hands in front of my eyes to look them up “You didn’t have the ones on your hands before you took a crack at my floor.” I looked at the floor by Luffy’s bed to find it bent “They were bad from all the fighting, but not scrapped to the bone.”
“Sorry, family temper.” I tried to smile but it hurt my heart to do it, so I just coursed my fingers through my long black hair, avoiding his eyes by looking back at my brother. If it weren’t for the dent on the floor, I’d have thought it more of a nightmare than a thing that actually happened. But I couldn’t look at my twin brother any longer so I turned to the stranger “What’s your name, Polar Panda Doctor?”
He raised me an eyebrow “Polar Panda Doctor?”
I shrugged “It’s the hat.” strangely, I was able to smile “I like the hat.”
“Well, my name is Trafalgar Law, I’m the captain of the Heart Pirates. You’re on my ship.”
I held out my hand to him and he looked at it seemingly confused “My name is Monkey D. Luna, first mate to the Straw Hat Pirates. Pleasure to meet you.”
He glanced from my hand to me and back at my hand “I know.”
I shrugged, feeling just how much of a mask my smile was “This week I lost my friends, got teleported to some weird ass island, discovered that my oldest brother was in Marine hands and in line for execution, invaded a prison, broke out of prison, invaded Marine Headquarters, fought until I couldn’t move at all, kicked my grandfather in the face, lost my oldest brother and woke up who knows where with my twin brother hanging onto life by a thread.” I took a deep breath and tried to keep my fake smile “We’re not even half way through the week, give the girl some normality here… Please?”
He seemed to consider my request before he sighed and shook my hand “Pleasure to meet you, Luna-ya.”
“Likewise, Law.” I nodded “And again, thanks for saving my brother.”
He glanced at Luffy before he looked back at me “Sorry I could only save one of them.”
I felt my heart hurt at his words “I’m happy you managed to at least save one of them. Saving just me would’ve been a waste of time…” Instinctively, I reached for my right wrist but it was bare making my eyes go wide “Where’s my bracelet?”
“You shouldn’t say that—”
I turned to him serious “That’s not important. Where’s my bracelet?”
He frowned at me “What bracelet?”
“Silver. Round. Seems like it’s missing pieces. Has four pendants. Three stars. One moon. USED TO BE ON MY WRIST?!” I showed him my bandaged arm almost to prove a point “I need it back!”
“It’s a bracelet.” He dismissed “I’m sure that you can find another one.”
I felt a growl claw it’s way up my throat as I started to pull the blankets off of me but he quickly got up to hold my arms at my sides against the wall “Get off of me, Polar Panda!”
“You’re NOT getting out of bed with your injuries!” Law argued.
“Yeah?! Watch me!” I struggled but I was too weak to get out of his grip “I’ll tear this whole ship apart to find that bracelet!”
“It’s just a damn piece of broken jewellery!”
“MY BROTHER GAVE ME THAT BRACELET!” to my infinite frustration, I couldn’t hold back my tears, my bracelet was as important to me as Luffy’s straw hat was to him “I CAN’T HAVE LOST IT! I just… Can’t…”
Law seemed to pull back just as tears came to my eyes “Look… I’ll go check with Bepo if he has your bracelet, ok?” he pulled back from me another step “But you have to stay in bed and rest.”
I rubbed my eyes and crossed my arms “Fine…”
He left grumbling something but I found myself sitting still on the bed, waiting for him to come back.
Ahh this was soooo good! thank you for submitting this! I love your OC so much and can’t wait to hear more!
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Call Me A Freak- Chapter 2: Mother Knows Best
Words: 1,870
Warnings: death threats, manipulation, physical and emotional abuse
Ch 1 | Ch 3
~ ~ ~
“You will go. You will find the Fairy Godmother. And you will bring me back her magic wand,” my mother snarled.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek. There had to be a way to convince her that this was a bad idea without just telling her that we didn’t want to go.
“The wand is pointless on the Isle. I don’t see why you’d even want it.”
She glared down at me from her throne. “It will work. After you break the barrier from Auradon.”
I felt my stomach drop. This was worse than I thought. This required too much responsibility on my end. Too much pressure. It was all too much.
She must have seen my unease, because she beckoned me closer. “Do you enjoy watching innocent people suffer?”
“Well, yeah,” I chuckled. “I mean, who doesn’t?”
“Well then, get me the wand!” she demanded before I had even finished. “With that wand and my septor, I will be able to bend both good and evil to my will!”
“Our will,” the Evil Queen added.
I could see my mother’s face drop in frustration, but she didn’t argue. “Our will,” she corrected herself. She had to put on a good face. If I knew my mother, she would just as soon get rid of her supposed “friends” and their children to seize power for herself.
She turned her stare back on me. “And if you refuse… you’re dead.”
I widened my eyes. “What? Mom-”
But she snapped her fingers in front of my face and silenced me. I shouldn’t have been surprised. She would do absolutely anything to get what she wanted, but was death just a threat? I was her last remaining child…
She leaned down to me and in a flash, her eyes had lit up with a sickly, emerald color.
My eyes reciprocated before I could stop them, caught in an intense staring contest with my mother. I was bound to lose. Her powers of persuasion were too strong, but I really didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to put my friends through something like this, when I knew they would get nothing in return.
My throat closed up. I was afraid. If I won this, she could simply kill me. Send me out back and have one of her guards crush my skull under his feet. I knew she wouldn’t even kill me herself.
“Fine,” I muttered, looking at the floor. I couldn’t let her see my face right now. It was too hard to veil my disappointment.
“I win,” she gloated.
There was a moment of tense silence. I don’t think anyone in the room had ever heard my mother threaten me with so much, especially not my friends, and they weren’t sure how to respond.
Most of the villains actually cared quite deeply for their kids. This did nothing to make them good parents, but they wouldn’t murder their children for disobediance. But Maleficent… she didn’t have a heart. She wasn’t just evil, she was unstoppable. And it terrified me.
“Evie!” the Evil Queen called behind me. Evie started to bounce over to her mother, as she continued, “My little evillette in training. You must find yourself a prince with a big castle.”
Evie’s face lit up. She worshipped her mother and her mother’s ideology. All Evie could have ever wanted from life was to sit on a throne, surrounded by servants, and riches, and reassurance that she was beautiful.
She giggled in excitement, but her mother shut her down immediately. “No laughing! Wrinkles!”
“Well, they’re not taking my Carlos, because I’d miss him too much,” Cruella cooed.
Carlos’ face morphed between confusion and hope. “Really mom?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Who would touch up my roots, fluff my fur, and scrap the bunyans off my feet?”
His face dropped at the sentiment. “Maybe a new school wouldn’t be the worst thing,” he grumbled, but she shut him down from that thought almost immediately.
“Carlos, they have dogs in Auradon.”
“Oh no, I’m not going!” he insisted.
“Well, Jay isn’t going either!” Jafar cried from the other side of the room. “I need him to stock the shelves in my store.” He then proceeded to shuffle through all the Jay had stolen on our endeavor today.
“What is wrong with you all?” my mother shouted, regaining my attention. She walked down to floor level with us, grabbing my arm as she went and shoving me down into the seat next to her. “For twenty years, I have searched for a way off this island. For twenty years, they have robbed us from our revenge!”
I couldn’t help curling into myself as she yelled and threw me around. I stared down at the table, trying to calm myself, while she continued.
“Revenge on Snow White and her horrible little men. Revenge on Aladdin and his bloated genie!”
“I will-” Jafar started, in a fit of anger, but Jay held him back.
“Revenge on every sneaking dalmation that escaped your clutches! And I, Maleficent, the evilest of them all, I will finally have revenge on Sleeping Beauty… and her relentless little prince,” she said mockingly.
“Villians!” she shouted. They all turned to her, awaiting her command. “Our day has come. E.Q.,” she turned to the queen, “give her the magic mirror.”
The Evil Queen handed her daughter a small object, about the size of Evie’s hand.
“This is your magic mirror?” she questioned.
“Well, it ain’t what it used to be,” her mother responded. “But it will help you find things.”
“My spellbook!” Maleficent remembered. “I need my…” she trailed off, in thought, so the Evil Queen nodded behind her.
My mother flipped around. “Aha! The safe!” She ran over to what was, essentially, a refrigerator, containing her most prized possession.
“Come, darling,” she beckoned me. As I approached, she pulled it out, running her fingers over the cover. “It doesn’t work here, but it will in Auradon.”
Not two seconds later, there was a honking outside, signalling the arrival of our ride. She shoved the book into my arms and guided me out to the balcony.
As I looked over the edge, down at the dirty, crowded streets, I realized I was leaving the Isle. Really leaving. Not just daydreaming about a different world, where there are fields and clean air, but actually going there. Or… somewhat going there.
Whenever I had dreamed of a better world before, it hadn’t been Auradon. I knew that if I were in Auradon, things wouldn’t be better. They would be cleaner, perhaps, but not better. I could never fit into a place like Auradon. It was full of royal people who have learned all their lives how to be proper and just and despise those like me. And if I were truly there, it would mean shunning the Isle. It would mean leaving behind all that I knew and possibly having it turn on me, too.
No, Auradon might have inspired this fake world, but this fantasy of mine was perfect. It was made specifically so that I could feel peace.
“The future of the free world rests on your shoulders,” my mother told me, her arm still wrapped around me, forcing me to look between the shaky apartments of my city and at the green hills of Auradon.
I could just make it out across the ocean. It truly looked like a paradise for all. But my friends and I didn’t deserve paradise. So, what was Auradon going to be for us? Some sort of trap? Punishment? Hell?
“Don’t blow it,” she added, gripping onto my arm, like a threat.
I made eye contact with her and she sent me a tense smile, which did nothing to make me feel better, then turned on her heel and began to walk downstairs.
I hesitated for just a moment, before following her.
Once I had grabbed my bag and made my way downstairs, I took in the car. Many on the streets were swarming it, throwing rocks or banging on the windows. It was obviously a very strong car, to be able to withstand the fury of the Isle.
I lifted my bag in front of my face, to avoid getting hit, but a few rocks still managed to pummel my arms and stomach.
The driver didn’t get out of the car. Probably a smart move on his part. As far as I could tell, he was the first person from Auradon to ever visit the Isle of the Lost and the people weren’t exactly jumping to give him a warm welcome.
I set my bag in the back, along with Evie’s, Jay’s, and Carlos’s. As I shut the trunk, my eyes drifted behind me, and I noticed my mother had made her way back up to the balcony to watch us go.
This unsettled me more, and I looked away quickly. I pushed through the crowd of people and slid into the car, where my friends were already waiting for me.
The minute I shut the door, there was silence among us, aside from the muted yelling outside.
The car started with a jolt, taking us away from our parents. It was just a little too much for all of us. Jay and Carlos slowly started to gorge on the mountains worth of candy they had laid out for us, but neither of them talked. Evie watched as we drifted away from the central part of the Isle, the groups of people watching us lessening as we got farther away. And I was staring at the floor, trying to concentrate. I had to make a plan, someway to get us out of Auradon as soon as possible. Once my mother had what she wanted, I would be off the hook.
The wall between us and the driver slowly descended a minute later. Evie turned around curiously, but all the excitement vanished from her face as she saw what was going on. “Look!”
Attached to the Isle was a bridge. Supposedly it was what had brought all the villains over twenty years ago, but there was no going over it now. It was demolished the minute every villain was off Auradon soil, stranding them there.
We approached this bridge now, no other path to turn on, no slowing down.
“It’s a trap!” Carlos screamed, and my eyes widened. There was no way they had asked for us, just to drive us into the ocean, right?
We all called out in fear, grabbing hold of one another. But the deathly fall we were expecting never came.
With a look around, I came to realize that the bridge had reappeared. Or, at least, a bridge had appeared.
It was gold and circled around us entirely, almost like a tunnel.
“What just happened?” Carlos questioned.
“It must be magic!” Evie giggled from beside me.
I slowly started to realize that we were well past the barrier at this point. This bridge, or tunnel, or whatever it was, seemed to have opened a way for us to safely leave the Isle. And just like that, we were the first villains to get off the Isle in twenty years.
#descendants#disney descendants#descendants fanfic#descendants fanfiction#descendants imagine#descendents#descendants imagines#disney#disney fanfiction#disney fanfic#disney channel#disney imagine#disney imagines#mal#evie#jay#carlos#carlos de vil#mal descendants#evie descendants#jay descendants#carlos descendants
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Hand in Hand
Pairing: 10th doctor x reader
Song: Mumford and son's- Beloved.
Warnings: Angst then fluff. F bomb is dropped twice. I am absolutely sorry if this makes no sense.
AN: Enjoy!
Fear will take ahold in many ways. That body shaking kinda fear that leaves you feeling drained and exhausted. The one that roots itself deeply into the pit of your stomach. It makes you feel ill and wishing that you were anywhere else.
Then there's the one that makes your blood run cold. The one where your body loses all warmth and makes it feel as if you've been eating cotton balls. It makes your mind run rampant and go blank at the same time.
It's the one where you don't know wether to scream or cry. Maybe you should run? Would that work? Or should you curl up and into a ball and hope that whatever has a deep rooted hold onto your heart will go away.
But that's never the case.
It never goes away.
It's always there at the back of your mind even if the thing your scared of is light-years away and flung deeply into the past.
But. You know.
Time travel and aliens have a way of throwing the wrench into that one.
So. Here you where. At some unknown point in the future. Standing on a foreign planet with your greatest fear standing before you. Behind you. Whispering honeyed words in your ears.
They travel around you. Trail up your sides and tangle within your hair. Trying to poison every crack and crevice they can get ahold of.
So. You fall back onto what you knew as a little kid. Little tricks you learned when having your parents check the closet and under the bed wasn't quite enough.
You close your eyes and pretend that you can't see them.
Because if you can't see them they can't see you.
You try to think of happy thoughts. Puppy's and kittens and
Fuck.
So they can do that know.
It's face was directly in front of yours. Grinning like a mad man set free. Laughter rings in your ears as you open your eyes.
Screaming you fall back.
Happy thoughts happy thoughts.
Fucking happy thoughts!
That's what The Doctor had told you before you got separated.
These beings fed on fear. Thrived in it. And the only way they could get it was by trapping unsuspecting travelers.
They made the planet to look enticing. To draw you in like a siren's song and down you in a sea of gut wrenching terror.
The planet was washed in seas of blue and draped with blankets of deep green. When you land on it the first thing you notice is the sweet smell of flowers. Maybe even the fresh scent of baked bread. The floor was carpeted on the softest moss you could ever hope to see.
It made you feel at home. It drew you in. You wanted to go in deeper. To explore and see more of the beauty it has to offer.
And we fell for it. Both me and the Doctor. He grabbed ahold of my hand and off we went. Seeing new sights I've never seen before. Finding new soft looking animals the Doctor is just now learning of.
The first howl should have sent us back running to the Tardis. And we would have to. If the Doctor hadn't insisted on staying just a touch longer. I'm not blaming him. Lord no. I wanted to see the waterfall to. I trusted that he would keep me safe. So off we went. Hand in hand to see the world as we always did.
Except this time letting go wasn't something we had planned together. The rocks were slick with wet moss. Little pebbles would scatter with every step we took. The bank to the river was a rainbow of colors. The water the deepest shade of blue.
We went towards the water fall that fed the river. It's great roaring sound as it sailed to the ground deafens us the closer we got. Having to shout at one another to be heard.
And down we went. Laughing to one another as we pointed out some great unseen sight. Birds colored with every fiery hue nauture could create. Fish the same scaley green as the oceans back home.
Oh it's was absolutely stunning!
But. All good things must come to an end.
The howling from earlier had gotten louder. Had gotten closer. We could see them in the corners of our eyes. Heads peering over huge boulders as we swiftly made out way back to the Tardis.
My heart pounded deeply with in my chest as a hollowed filling made itself home in the base of my throat. I gripped tightly onto the Doctors hand. He squeezed back just as tightly.
It was him who figured it out first. Of course. He payed attention to how swiftly they moved. Watched as our breathing became erratic and our hearts drummed out a hurried tune.
"Think happy things y/n" He told me. "Tell me about the happiest thing you can remember. Maybe we can call down." So I did. I told him about the time me and my parents went to the coast for the first time. About the way the salty hair clung to every inch of skin. The way the briney air would fill your lungs. About the tide pools I showed my siblings once they came into the world.
And it worked! Both me and him were calm and it was a few more miles back to the Tardis.
Aliens have a way of ruinning things. Remember that if you ever have the chance to travel with this man.
A glob of mud sailed through the air and landed squarely on the Doctors suit jacket. We both spun on heel as another hit the side of my face.
They had us surrounded from the back. Hands filled with mud balls and rocks.
We took of in a blind sprint. Hand in hand as the forest blurred around us. The Doctor lost his footing as the ground suddenly slanted downwards. We lost each other as we tumbled to the bottom of the large hill.
Which led me to where I was now. In pain. Dazed and confused with monsters surrounding me.
One shuffled closer to me. Snuffling it's way around my neck and into my ear. I breathed in deeply trying to distance myself away. Trying to think clearly.
Trying to think about what the Doctor would tell me.
Help me figure out on my own.
With every ounce of strength I had I pushed the creature back. Yelling and screaming.
"You have no power over me!" I whirled around in my spot. Hair whipping wildly as tears welled up behind my lashes.
"Do you hear me! You'll starve with me here! You are just and insignificant little aspect of my life!" The creatures sunk back. On tried to bravely run towards me. I grabbed a broken branch and waved wildly at it. Breaking the branch in two as it came into contact with a burley arm.
"You don't scare me! The demons I face within my own head have told me scarier lies than you could ever hope to whisper." I walked towards the shrinking group hot tears spilling down my face.
"Don't you see! There are scarier things in this universe. And believe me I've seen them all. But you. Your just the monster under the bed. No one's going to remember you." My chest heaved as I breathed in deeply. The monsters shrunk and skittered away. Leaving me alone in the middle of the woods with nothing but my thoughts for company.
I dropped the branch that was still clutched within my grasp. Tears spilled thickly down the sides of my face. My nose ran an my head began to throb in tune with my rapidly beating heart.
I folded in on myself wrapping my arms around my stomach. I gasped for air as my legs trembled before giving out.
I was alone.
Oh God I was alone.
"Y/N!" I jerked up and off of the ground at the sound of my name. The Doctor was sprinting towards me. His suit jacket torn and dirty a deep purple bruise cradled the side of his face.
"Doctor!" We clashed against one another trembling as we pulled each other as close as we could. The Doctor's hand rested against the back of my head his long fingers weaving through my hair. I grabbed fistfulls of tattered fabric while resting my head against his chest.
"It's ok." He whispered. "We're safe now. They're gone." He pressed a kiss to the top of my head swaying side to side. I sniffled and wiped away still falling tears.
"Are you okay?" It came out in a ragged whisper. The Doctor smiled softly. His deep brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He pressed another kiss to my forehead and grabbed ahold of my hand.
"I'll be okay when once we get into the Tardis and away from this planet." We began the slow trek forward. His hand held mine tightly and deep down I knew that he needed this more than I did.
I looked down when the ground suddenly felt a little more wet and a lite more squishy.
"Y/n?" He turned to look at me one brow curved towards the sky.
"I... I lost my shoe." We met each other's gaze and burst out laughing heads resting on each other's shoulders. Hands held together in a gentle embrace.
We began laughing even harder when the Tardis whirred a little ways away from us.
Hand in hand we would take on the world. Heaven forbid we were one without the other.
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OCtober Writing Prompts Day 6 - Dreams and Aspirations
A memory from 21 years ago, when Karri was 12 years old.
Griff came home! He’s been gone for ages on his trip. He was in Waterdeep for a few years after he turned 20. He was working for papa and Mr. Braun, helping them make trade deals with merchants in the city. I didn’t see him much but he came home sometime and he always had stories to tell, and presents too. One time he brought me a belt knife with a handle made of pretty green stone, but mama took it away. She said I could cut myself so I could have it when I was older. It’s been 3 years and she still hasn’t given it back. She treats me like I’m a baby, but I’m 12 years old. It’s not fair. Griff brought me a ring next time. It’s pretty but I know he bought something mama would let me keep. I keep it in my box with the other things he’s brought me.
I like the presents, but I like the stories better. Griff saved all the money he made working for papa and Mr. Braun and went on a trip all the way across the ocean. He went to Shavay! He says that it’s really different there. It’s hot and bright and filled up with sand. It’s like being at a beach he says, but instead of ocean waves there’s just rolling sand (he calls them dunes) as far as you can see. Farther, even. He told me he met a man who had a cat with stripes on his back like the Fletchers’ tomcat (his name is Chops, ‘cause he has super fluffy fur on the sides of his face) but this cat was the size of a lion! Bigger even! He said he saw a big blue dragon fly over him so he had to hide in the sand. He also said he saw a animal that was the size of a house and it had big floppy ears (bigger than me!) and it had two white horns on its face and a long nose that it could fill up and then drink out of like a cup. I think he made that one up though.
There’s a story I don’t get to hear. Mama and papa made me leave before he told it, but Harri and Elli had to leave to. I think was a grownup story. I want to listen at the door but Elli told me was gonna tell on me if I didn’t stop. Traitor. I would have told her and Harri too but she says Mama said no. She never lets me get away with stuff. Probably why mama puts her in charge when I’m feeling sick and she has to go out. Cadi lets me play in my room when I’m not feeling good but Elli makes me stay in bed and go to sleep. One time she held my nose and made me swallow a bunch of valerian root since I wouldn’t take a nap. It was super gross and I didn’t wake up for like 3 days. Mama freaked out and wouldn’t let me out of her sight for ages after that. Elli got in big trouble for getting into mamas medicines though, serves her right.
They’re opening up the door now, I guess the story is over. I missed the whole thing, ugh. Rollo and Griff and the others are coming out. Are we done with stories for now? I run up to Griff and grab his hand, bouncing on my toes.
“Griff! Are you going somewhere? Can I come with? Please?”
Griff grins and reaches down to ruffle my hair, I grin back and blow my hair out of my eyes.
“I’m heading to the Stag-Horned Flagon with Rollo and Martyn. I don’t mind you coming along kiddo, what about you Rollo?”
“Fine by me. Martyn?”
“I don’t mind… What do you think Ma? Pa?”
Dangit Martyn, why did you have to ask mama? Maybe I can still make this work. I turn to mama and put on the most desperate, excited face that I can. Puppy eyes don’t work for me. If mama thinks I’m tired or upset she’ll make me stay home and sleep. I hop from foot to foot, hands clasped in front of me pleadingly, my eyes wide and pleading.
“Mama, can I go? Pleeeease? I don’t feel sick or tired, and I promise I’ll be good. Honest!”
Mama frowns and my heart sinks, she’s about to say no. I just know it. Then she sighs and turns to Papa, “What do you think El? Should I let her go?”
Papa rubs his chin, “I dunno, do you think she’ll behave herself?”
I hop over to papa so fast I almost trip, nodding my head vigorously, “I’ll be good papa, I promise! I want to hear the rest of Griff’s stories. I’ll listen to Rollo n’ Griff n’ Martyn, I will! Please just let me go papa!” I want it so bad I’m shaking. I hear a tiny giggle and see that Cadi is covering her mouth with her hand. I squint suspiciously, are they making fun of me?
But there’s more important things. I swivel back to papa, trying my best to contain my anxiety. What if he says no? But… hey! He’s biting his lip, he’s trying not to laugh! I take a step back and look around, glaring at everybody. They’re all trying not to laugh! I cross my arms, put on my cross face, and stomp my foot on the floor.
“Hey, you’re all making fun of me!” I huff in annoyance, “That’s not nice. Big jerks.”
They all give up. They’re all giggling, then they’re all laughing at me! No fair, they all teamed up to trick me! Even Elli and Harri are laughing! They all knew! That’s cheating! I stand there fuming while they laugh, then as they calm down mama comes over to me, still giggling softly.
“Allright Karri, you can go with your brothers. Just be good for them, okay?”
“Really?” My eyes get wide as saucers, I smile and hug her around her waist as tight as I can, “Thank you mama! I’ll be good! Thank you, thank you!” I get to go! I never get to go! This is the best night ever. Wait, what am I gonna wear? I gotta get dressed! I pull away from mama, still bouncing in excitement, and dash up the stairs two at a time. Mama calls up after me.
“Slow down Karri! You’re gonna trip and hit your head!”
“Yes mama!” I yell back, slowing down and taking the stairs one by one. She’s right, I get to go out! Can’t risk messing that up by bonking my noggin. Gotta be careful.
I hurl myself out of my clothes and yank on my best blue dress. I get to go out! I gotta look good. I tug a brush through my bright-red hair so I don’t look like a big tangle of yarn. Am I forgetting anything? I look around. I go to the window and struggle to open it. It’s heavy for me. I manage to crack it open and a stiff wind breathes through. I shiver, it’s chilly out. I shut the window. Mostly. It gets stuck, okay?
I look around for my coat but I don’t see it. It’s not in my chest either. When I look up, I see mama’s shawl on the bed. Well, my shawl. The one that was mamas. Its mine now. But I don’t want to wear that out. It’s warm and stuff but it’s… wearing your mamas shawl is for little kids. Not for grown ups. I get to go out with the boys I should look like a grown up. I look away from it. But then I look back. It is cold outside… and mamas shawl is really warm. And soft. And pretty.
I pull it around my shoulders. The pale blue looks nice with my dress. I should pin it with something though. Ooh! I got it! I run over to my bed-table and pull open the drawer to get my little box. Griffs ring is way too big for my finger, it doesn’t even fit mama and my fingers are way littler than hers are. But maybe… yeah! I pull the ends of my shawl through the ring and stick a little silver pin through them. Silver ring, silver pin, yeh. I look good! And I gotta look good, because I get to go out. Now I’m ready.
“Karri, you ready? We gotta get going!”
That’s Rollo. Everyone’s waiting on me, oops! I scuttle my way out of my room and down the stairs as fast as I can. Rollo, Griff, and Martyn all have their coats and are ready to go. Mama comes over to me, she has my coat. She holds it out towards me with one hand.
“Looking for this?” She looks down at me and smiles, “I think you look very nice, but would you prefer your coat dear?”
I look down at mamas shawl, draped around my shoulders. It’s too big for me, it makes me look even smaller than I already am. But it’s warm and… it’s mine. I shake my head and look down, blushing slightly.
“No. I’m okay mama. Thank you.”
“Alright then.” Her smile widens just slightly. She reaches down and adjusts my shawl, repinning it so it fits more snugly around my shoulders, like a hug. She cups my cheeks in her hands and kisses my forehead. Blegh, I blush and pull away and scrub at my forehead. She laughs. “Have fun baby girl, be safe.” I’m not a baby, but I nod anyways and scamper over to Griff and the others so we can head out to the Flagon. I get to go out!
The night goes fast. We have a really tasty stew for dinner at the Flagon, and I get to have a big cup of cider! It’s almost as big as my head! My brothers all have ales, but I’m not old enough to get one. Not that I want to, cider is yummy and ale tastes like butts. Or at least that’s what Harri said after he got in trouble for sneaking one of papa’s ales. Griff gets out his manto… his… mandi… his instrument and played songs he learned on his trip! I sat on Rollo’s lap and clapped and sang along, then Rollo laughed and set me up on top of the table! He said I had to dance for my supper, so I did. It was embarrassing but it was really fun too. I was so tired by the end of it. I plopped back onto Rollo’s lap and sat there while he and Martyn clapped along.
I guess I fell asleep at some point because when I woke up I was in my room. Rollo was carrying me to my bed. I was in my nightgown, I guess he changed me into it but I wasn’t embarrassed, he’d taken me swimming in Horse Pond too many times for me to be shy about that. My eyes were bleary as he set me down on my bed and pulled my covers up to my chin. I smiled up at him and he smiled back down at me.
“Hey kiddo. Did you have fun?”
“Uh huh.”
“Guess we really tired you out, huh?”
I nodded, yawning hugely.
“Allright kiddo. Do you want a light?”
The light from the doorway was coming through but once he shut it… the shadows were already getting bigger. I look over at the darkness, then turn back to him and nod, not meeting his eyes.
“...Yeah.”
“Still don’t like the dark, huh?”
“...No.”
“Allright kiddo. Well, you know what might help? I almost forgot your present.”
My eyes shot wide open, I wanted to push myself up but I was so tired. I forgot about presents! He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little ceramic pot. It was black and shiny and covered in little gold leafs. Then he pulled out a little glass bottle. He pulled the top off of the bottle and a pretty smell filled the air. Lavender? He took my lamp oil from the bed-table and filled up the little pot, then put in a tiny droplet from the bottle, and lit a wick. The pretty lit lamp lit up on my bed-table and the smell of flowers filled the room. I smiled tiredly. It was nice.
Griff smiled again, brushing my hair away from my face.
“Do you like your present?”
“Uh-huh. Thanks Griff.”
“You’re welcome kiddo.”
“Griff?”
“Yeah sis?”
“Will you take me on an adventure someday? When I’m old enough?”
Griff hesitated, then he smiled softly, I think a little bit sadly. “Sure I will Karri. You can come with me someday, but first you have to be big and strong.”
“Then I’m gonna get as big and strong as I can. Bigger and stronger than you even.”
He chuckled and ruffled my hair. “I bet you will kiddo. Then we’ll go on that trip, together.”
I nod, smiling sleepily. “Promise?”
“I promise. Now get some rest, okay?”
“Okay. I love you Griff.”
“I love you too Karri.”
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can I get uhhhhhhhh pjo au Lance forcing his grungy boyfriend to do a face mask
Lance emerged from the bathroom with a contented sigh. The thick clay of the mask was soothing and cool against his skin, smoothing away a hard day of sweaty combat training and a nearly fatal attempt at rock climbing. Fresh tulips from the Demeter cabin clustered in the cabin windows, sending a wave of sweetness through the air with every summer breeze that fluttered the lace curtains. Somewhere in the distance an Apollo camper was playing a lyre, its melody drifting down into the valley
Lance sucked in another deep breath, letting it go in a smile. “This cabin is paradise. Aren’t you relaxed already?”
“This cabin is a nightmare,” Keith grunted, perched on the edge of Lance’s hope chest with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes darted around the room as a scowl pulled at his sharp features. “The fumes are noxious.”
Lance rolled his eyes. “Yours is a nightmare, and I’ve been to the Hades cabin.” He shuddered, thinking back only a few hours to when he had marched over to the Ares cabin to collect Keith for a little R&R time before dinner. One peek inside the door was enough to send him reeling; armor and weapons thrown haphazardly on the floor (it was a miracle they ever passed cabin inspection,) angry red accents on the bedding and walls, and something smoky hanging in the air. From then on he decided throwing pebbles at Keith’s window would be his preferred method of boyfriend-summoning, although he’d have to be careful of the landmines. Like he said, a nightmare. “I know the pink trim is tacky, but it’s at least peaceful in here, right?” He gestured around the cabin, empty except for a few of his siblings draped over a bed in the corner flipping through magazines.
Keith sighed, finally uncrossing his arms. “Yeah, I guess it is quieter…”
“That’s the spirit! Now-” Lance grinned, holding up a Mario Badescu container in one hand and a headband in the other- “Let’s get you pampered!”
“Here we go,” Keith said mournfully. He tilted his head up, squeezing his eyes shut as Lance stretched the headband over him and pushed back his bangs. His eyes flew open when he felt a pair of lips smack against his forehead. “Augh!”
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”Lance chuckled, still leaning down to stare into Keith’s stormy gaze, for once unobstructed by dark locks. He’d never noticed how long Keith’s eyelashes were, framing the gentle curve of his eye and batting angrily at him. Lance murmured, “You have beautiful eyes, y’know.”
Heat pooled immediately in Keith’s cheeks. Nothing could make him blush quite like his boyfriend- a son of Aphrodite no less- calling him beautiful. Like Lance was one to talk; even with that goo all over his face he was still gorgeous, his own eyes blue and sparkling like the ocean. “Just put the mask on,” Keith grumbled.
Lance happily obliged, scooting Keith over on the chest to sit knee to knee with him. Keith seemed to finally relax under his touch, the furrow in his brow melting away as Lance gently spread the clay over his face. “I helped Nora- Hecate Nora, not Hephaestus Nora- put a little skin care magic into this, so it’ll either work wonders or we’ll both erupt in boils tomorrow.”
Keith opened one eye to give Lance a mischievous look, “I hope its boils.”
Lance snorted, nudging him with his elbow. “Okay, one more thing- purse your lips…” He rooted around his bedside drawer until he found his lip balm. He dipped a finger into the tin and gently dabbed it against Keith’s puckered lips. A thrill ran through his veins at the touch, more soft and intimate than he could have ever imagined being with the scrawny, brash Ares camper he had first met a few years ago. But there he was, Keith’s hand absently around his waist and his warm breath tickling Lance’s wrist.
“All done,” Lance whispered. He laid his hand gently against Keith’s chest so this time the touch wouldn’t be a surprise. Careful not to smudge his mask everywhere, he leaned in and pressed his lips against Keith’s, tender and soft. He felt Keith’s arm tighten around him, drawing him closer as he met Lance’s kiss. Lance wanted to pull him in tight, tangling together until he could feel Keith’s heartbeat against his chest and smell the smoky musk that wafted from him— but then his mouth started to taste like face mask. “Okay,” he pulled himself away and stuck out his tongue with a fake gag, “The make out session is gonna have to wait.”
Keith grinned at him, “See? Another reason I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this.”
“Oh please,” Lance scoffed, getting up from the bench, “I need to rinse mine off, but you still have a few minutes. Don’t you feel great right now? Can’t you feel the hydrating power seeping into your pores?”
As he headed into the bathroom he heard Keith tentatively call, “Uh… yeah, sure,” but when he returned to the room his boyfriend was leaning back against the bedpost, eyes closed and a peaceful smile on his face.
Lance had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle. Keith just looked so cute, so absolutely different from the determined strategist in Greek armor he’d seen countless times on the Capture the Flag field— not to mention there was something hilarious about seeing Keith, in his prized Green Day: American Idiot Tour t-shirt, surrounded by lace and flowers and covered in green muck. Without thinking, Lance grabbed his Polaroid camera (a un-monster-attracting alternative to Snapchat) and took a picture.
At the sound of the shutter Keith’s eyes snapped open. He turned to Lance with a murderous gaze, glaring at the camera like it had just stabbed him in the back.“Did you just-?”
Lance looked back and forth from Keith to the photo developing slowly in his hand. “Uh…no?”
“Lance!”
Keith jumped up but Lance dodged his wild snatch at the last second. A loud scuffle ensued, Lance hurtling over furniture with the picture held at arm’s length while Keith scrambled close behind, hurling vows for revenge in the name of Ares. Eventually Keith managed to pin Lance (who was regretting slacking on his training) in a corner and grab the photo. He climbed triumphantly onto Lance’s hope chest, holding the incriminating Polaroid aloft. “Ha! It’s like Capture the Flag all over again,” he grinned.
Lance froze, catching his breath and trying not to make any sudden movements that would startle Keith into tearing up such a hilarious keepsake. He bit his lip, about to start groveling— but then he was struck by an obvious idea. “Okay, Keith, you win,” he flashed an apologetic smile, holding up his hands in defeat, “I can never beat you at this kind of stuff. So…how about you drop that dumb picture and go wash off that mask so I can give you your victory kiss?” He gave an extra ring to the last words, tilting his head with a coy smirk.
Keith’s expression softened to a dreamy smile. The photo fell from his grip as he stepped down from the chest. “Sure thing,” he said, pecking a kiss against Lance’s cheek as he shouldered past him toward the bathroom.
Lance pumped his fist victoriously, jumping to grab the picture as soon as he heard the faucet running. “Pidge and Hunk are gonna freak, this is gold!”
Just as the words left his mouth the sound of water stopped abruptly. “Wait a second-” Keith appeared in the doorway, his face half covered with splotches of green and lips pursed indignantly. “Did you just charmspeak at me?!”
This time Lance knew to go right for the door, dashing toward the Athena cabin with Keith hot on his heels. His cry echoed across the green, “Pidge! Pidge! You have to see this! Keith’s gonna kill me!”
“-Lance!”
#keith#lance#klance#percy jackson au#thx for the prompt!#klance fic#keith fic#lance fic#voltron fic#pjo au#voltron pjo au#writing
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Rather Lovely Thing
Robin Hood FenHawke AU written for the @daficswap! I had the pleasure of working with the lovely @aliveria who is an amazing artist and a wonderful person. Please go check out their art!
Rating: T
Pairing: Fenris x FemHawke
AO3 Link: Click Here
Shining brightly, draped in darkness and wrapped in stars, the moon hangs high in the night. The soft call of an owl, the low beat of wings as it follows its prey. A cold wind sweeps into his room and he’s not sure what wakes him. Blankets pulled around his shoulders, made of softest fur, a warm nest. He longs to return to sleep, what with heavy eyelids and slow breathing. Closing his eyes, but there’s that noise again. Moving only enough to see what strange shadows lurk inside his room.
This one moves quietly on her feet, bending down to open a drawer. She dips her hands in, pulls out a silk shirt. Holding it out to look, shaking her head and throwing it to the ground. She finds the gifted necklaces, the golden bracelets. Those she puts into one of the many bags tied to her one of her many belts. Her back is to the bed, her gaze focused on her search. He’s pushing himself up to sit as carefully as he can, but she doesn’t hear him move. Rather she’s chuckling underneath her breath as she holds up a ring, smirking as she tucks it in with the rest.
There’s a hook on the window, a long coil of rope curled on the floor. Her bow is resting beside it, along with a quiver of arrows. He slips from the bed, feet against bare stone, takes the bow in his hands, reaches for an arrow. Taking it up, placing it neatly, and drawing the bow. “How did you get in here?” She turns slowly as his words, raising her hands, dropping the pair of trousers she was holding. She shows him her empty hands, then leans against the dresser, crossing her arms.
“I think you can tell that I came through the window,” she says, pointing at the hook and the rope. There are multiple braids that knot through her hair, many multi-colored scarves around her neck, covering half her face. He can still see some of her cheeks, the freckles that dot there. A threadbare tunic, trousers in much the same condition. Her boots are encrusted with mud, flecks of it on the floor from where she’s been. He does not miss the dagger in her belt.
“You are her,” he says, “the robin,” and he pulls at the bow even harder. She pushes herself away from the dresser, claps her hands together in delight, the sound muffled by the fingerless gloves.
“You know me!” She says as she gives him a small wink. His arm shakes with the effort of the bow, of pulling the string. Her motions are almost lazy as she begins to walk towards him. A slow lean to the left as he lets fly the arrow. It takes a disappointing path, far from where he meant it to land. He steps back as she steps forward, until his back is to the wall and her hand is on her bow. “That’s mine.”
“You’ve taken things of mine,” he says.
“So I have. I’ll be leaving with them too,” she tells him. It takes only a tug to steal her bow back. Pulling it over her shoulder, wrapping the belt of the quiver around her waist. Humming as she reaches for the rope, leaning out the window as she throws it down.
“Please don’t move the hook, or cut the rope, until I’m on the ground,” she says, “I’d prefer not to die today.” A foot is on the windowsill, the rope in her hands.
“Take me with you,” he tells her, closing the distance between them. He watches as her eyebrows rise, eyes widening with surprise. He frowns as she begins to bark out laughter, as she steps out of the window and back onto stone, towards him.
“If you know me, then you know what I steal,” she says, “Gold, jewels, things. Not people.”
“Take me with you or I’ll cut the rope,” he says. She’s far too close, sizing him up, her nose a hairsbreadth away from his. Eyes narrowed, studying him and he’s doing his best to stare back.
“You’ve never killed anyone before,” she says at last, “and you’re not going to start today.” She shakes her head, walks back to the window. He’s on her in an instant, arms around her neck, pulling her back.
“Guards! Guards help me! There’s someone here!” He’s screaming at the top of his lungs as she flails, finally buries an elbow in his belly, wrestles him to the ground with her hand over his mouth.
“That is not how you get someone to help you,” she scolds him, wagging a finger on her free hand at him. She’s dead weight on top of him, her thighs crushing at his hips, and all he can manage is the pathetic stamping of his feet, clawing her arm. “I thought we were friends. Friends don’t let friends be taken by guards. You have to promise me that if I take my hand away, you won’t start screaming again. Understand?” All he can manage is a grunt. “Good.”
Her other hand is at her belt, pulling the dagger, putting it to his neck. Only then does she remove her hand. “Pardon me if I’m feeling a little skittish about the trust between us. Tell me why you want me to take you.” He glares at her, and she allows him to prop himself up with his elbows. She doesn’t press the metal against his flesh, keeping it just enough away from his skin.
“They say you help people. That what you rob goes to help the poor and the needy,” he says.
“’They’ aren’t wrong,” she tells him. “Again, I only steal things.”
“That’s what I am. A thing; something to be bought and sold. They want to marry me to a magister.” His face twists. “They are going to send me to Tevinter and I, I – I can’t.” She cocks her head and there’s a sudden dawning on her face. Tucking the blade back into her belt, one hand on the bed to help push herself up. Scurrying away from him, face in her hands.
“Andraste’s sagging arse. You’re Fenris,” she says when she turns back to him.
“You know me,” he says dryly, parroting her earlier words as he picks himself up and off the ground. She rolls her eyes.
“That marriage is supposed to cement an alliance between Ferelden and Tevinter, so yes, of course I know you. Half the country knows you,” she says.
“You do not know this magister. You do not know what he is like,” Fenris tells her, hands clenched into fists. Her arms crossed, fingers tapping at her chin, studying him once again. Her eyes moving from his head to his feet, back up again. A sigh every half second, before a groan, running a hand down her face. She takes the scarf with it. There’s a scar across her nose, and the hint of freckles gives way to a full face of them. She’s biting her bottom lip, hands at her hips.
“It’s a huge risk taking you. If I take you, you’re going to get me killed. Executed,” she says.
“If we are caught, I will tell them I forced you to take me.”
“As if that’ll matter.” She’s shaking her head, rubbing at the mud on her boot with her other foot. Hesitating. Still weighing the cost, the decision. He steps forward.
“Please,” he says softly. The stiff line of her shoulders slump.
“Bollocks.” She sticks out her hand towards him. “The name’s Hawke.” He takes her hand, gives it a firm shake. “Looks like you’re coming with me,” she says, pulling the scarf back over her face.
He loses track of how long they ride for. Hawke doesn’t take time to stop, only to rest and feed the horse. She gives him the last of her water-skin, and jerky is their every meal. His legs ache from being on a horse for so long, his every muscle tired and sore. Hawke is mostly silent, the reigns in her hand, guiding the horse where they need to go with uncanny awareness. He’s barely set foot outside of the castle. The countryside is foreign to him, every road unknown. His legs tremble when they stop next, and he wobbles to take a seat by a nearby stream.
She chuckles as she watches him, the horse taking a drink from the stream nearby. “Don’t ride very much, do you?” He can only glare, shake his head. Trying to work life back into limbs, standing up and taking unsteady steps.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” she says with a smile. He expects her to take him to some village. Instead, they pass one after the other, after the other. She avoids most people, and he can’t help notice the wanted posters on the sides of some buildings, and along the Imperial Highway. They all call for the arrest of the thief known as the Robin. Most are half-torn, and most are drawn on with crude symbols. None directed at her. The smallfolk have love for the one making their lord’s life miserable.
As they ride, he keeps his arms wrapped around her waist, chest against her back, resting his head on her shoulder. It’s easy to fall under the lull of the heavy beat of hooves against ground, the warm cloak wrapped around him. He dreams of the ocean. He knows it is day, he knows the sun is risen, when next he wakes. It’s hidden by a thick crop of trees, branches stretching overhead, the sky a now leafy green. The horse is walking over thick root and moss, and Hawke seems far too at ease.
“Every lord has been petitioning the king for your capture. You will be hanged with or without me. You know this and yet you still went to the Royal Palace. One of the most heavily guarded castles. Why?” She shrugs.
“They said the Palace couldn’t be stolen from. That I couldn’t steal from them,” she says.
“You risked your life because of a taunt,” he says it flatly. Her shoulders shake with silent laughter. He shakes his head, rolls his eyes. “Unbelievable.”
“You’re part of this now, you know. I won’t just let you sit at our camp doing nothing,” she tells him. “We’ll need to dye your hair first, teach you how to use a bow and a sword. Good chance of getting less dead if you know a bit of everything. Oh and picking locks too.”
“You want me to steal with you?”
“You have a problem with that?”
“It is dishonest.” Hawke snorts.
“The people we take from steal far more than we ever could. We’re just putting the gold back where it belongs.”
“’We’?” Just as he speaks, he feels a hand at his back. Pulling him by his tunic, dragging him off the horse, his feet dangling over the ground. Hawke immediately turns the horse, an amused grin on her face as she watches Fenris struggle. A tall red-headed woman has him in her grasp, a deep frown on her face as she looks between Fenris and Hawke.
“Put the nice man down Aveline,” Hawke says. She’s lounging on the saddle, leaning forward, that grin still persisting.
“We don’t take in strays,” she says, looking up him and down, “especially not royal strays.” Hawke raises her eyebrows, laughs softly under her breath.
“Honestly, who do we know that isn’t a stray? Put him down.” She opens her hand and down he goes. Landing roughly on his feet, stumbling away from her, steadying himself by a tree. A bush rumbles, the crack of a branch. Others are appearing one by one, with sword and bow, all pointed at him. Hawke doesn’t seem concerned in the slightest. Dismounting the horse with ease, moving to stand beside him, taking a leaf from his hair.
The camp is a short distance away, a clearing in the Korcari Wilds. Nestled in the ruins of some long forgotten building, white stone that’s no longer bright but covered in vines. Hammocks are slung between trees, boxes are scattered and stacked haphazardly. A fire burns in the middle, by a rack of weapons and one of food. Tents are pitched in a corner, and Hawke claps Fenris on the back. “It isn’t much, but it’s home,” she says. “You’re one of us now.”
He finds that stealing is easy. Isabela has been his tutor with the locks, hours spent crouching over a safe, the pins in his hand, listening to every careful click. It did not come as easy to him as he was hoping. Hawke brings Isabela a new pick set the next time she returns, to replace all the ones Fenris has broken. The basic locks are soon mastered, and he is slowly working his way up the tier. Isabela gives him a ship in a bottle for each lock he cracks. A corner of his tent is filled with them.
Merrill distressed over his hair, such a unique color, standing out. When you work with the Robin, it’s always best to never stand out. The first attempt at dyeing the white to black was met with spectacular failure. It did, however, stain her palms for a month. The second sees more success, but fades far too quickly. She gets it on the third try, and his hair now matches Hawke’s. Isabela and Merrill often steal together, dressed as Hawke would. Far more difficult to catch the Robin if there is more than one.
Hawke brings him on the odd small job, to places she knows will be empty. It allows them to take their time, for Hawke to provide instruction. Without seeing any people, the guilt of stealing is slowly washed away. He doesn’t think about who they’re stealing from anymore. It’s only gold, only trinkets. He picks the lock, she chooses the valuables that they take. Mostly small things, easily smuggled, easily stored and given to others.
Archery he finds far more difficult. Back at camp, coin counted and put away, a bow in his hands. Hawke stands behind him, putting her hand over his. “Relax.” She taps at his white knuckles, the hand that grips the bow. “Breathe,” she murmurs against his ear. Her other hand follows the line of his shoulders, traces down his arm. “Take your time.” He scowls as he lets the arrow fly, watches as it lands just short of the target.
Hawke steps back, her hands on her hips as she chuckles. “You’ll get the hang of it,” she tells him. She stays in the camp fairly often, but sometimes, during the day, she disappears with Aveline. She leaves him in the others care, and they are kind, but they treat him with a sort of fragility that she doesn’t. Too often has Anders mockingly called him your highness, and Merrill trips over herself in an effort to be overly polite.
“I am more useful with a sword.” She takes up her own bow, plucks the arrow from his hand. She lines up the shot with practiced ease, and the arrow lands in the center of the target. He passes her another arrow, and she splits her previous with it. “Show off,” he says, and passes her another. She gives him a grin as she takes it.
Hawke doesn’t sleep in a tent. Unless it’s raining, she chooses one of the hammocks outside. Swinging back and forth, her hands behind her head, listening to the late sounds of the birds and the bugs, the leaves and the trees that sway in the breeze. “Why sleep outside?” He asks her one night. An eye cracks open, and she shuffles in the hammock.
“Come here,” she says, patting the space beside her. With a doubtful glance, he hefts himself into the hammock with her. There’s no room to move and it forces them to be shoulder to shoulder, side by side, and practically cheek to cheek. She links their arms together, pressing her head against his. With her free hand, she points upwards.
“That’s Judex, meaning justice.” She’s tracing an outline in the stars, from point to shining point, drawing a downturned sword. “Draconis, a high dragon.” He turns his head slightly to look at her, watching her eyes shine just as brightly as the stars. “Peraquialus is over here.” She looks enchanted and enchanting and she shows him every constellation she can find. “I can’t help but wonder what they’re hiding,” she says.
“Hiding?” he asks softly.
“Are they jewels the gods put there? Worlds like ours? What would it be like to be able to fly among them? I’d give anything to be a dragon, just like in the old stories,” she sighs wistfully. He can’t help the laughter that bursts from him, and she soon joins him. In the morning, he has one leg hanging off the hammock, and Hawke is nestled in his arms, her head in the crook of his neck.
“I almost feel bad waking them,” Isabela says, her arms crossed as she examines the situation.
“Maker’s breath,” Aveline rolls her eyes, putting a hand on Fenris’s shoulder and shaking hard. “Wake up.” He makes a small grunt as Hawke propels herself upwards, her hands on his chest.
“Wassit,” she grunts. Another eye roll from Aveline as she puts her hands under Hawke’s arms, hauls her out of the hammock and deposits her onto her feet. Hawke covers a yawn with her hands.
“We need to go,” Aveline tells her, “there are people coming to see the lady of Lothering.”
“Why do we care?” Fenris asks as he moves to stand beside them. “Are we robbing this lady?” Aveline puts her hands on Hawke’s shoulders, swings her so that she is standing in front of him.
“This is the lady of Lothering.”
“Hello,” Hawke says as gives him a sheepish wave and a smile.
A strange thing, to see Hawke in a dress. A plain one, but a dress nonetheless, a small belt around her waist. Her hair brushed to full length, then put into one neat braid. Cheeks no longer smudges with dirt but freshly washed, boots replaced with small shoes. A stranger thing to see her riding side saddle. Fenris has his arms crossed as she brings the horse around. “It started in Lothering. They kept raising the taxes and I… I had to take their money. I didn’t want to and I didn’t have to if someone ‘stole’ it. I always returned what I took,” she tells him.
“You do not have to explain yourself to me,” Fenris says.
“You deserve an explanation,” she says. She rides with Aveline, the captain of her guard, back to the city, leaving him standing by the fire. He runs a hand through his hair, takes a seat on one of the logs nearby. Isabela wears a self-satisfied smile, her legs crossed, elbow on her knee, and chin in the palm of her hand.
“You two are certainly chummy,” she says, her voice practically dripping with the need for gossip. Fenris scoffs, shakes his head.
“You will not hear anything from me,” he says. Isabela fakes a pout.
“You’re no fun. What is fun is that Hawke has so many people coming to see her. Half of Denerim it seems like. All looking for you,” Isabela tells him. Fenris narrows his eyes, rises to his feet. “They’re moving from castle to castle, questioning everyone. Seems they’re mighty keen to find you. They’ve got the constable, bunch of guards and even someone from Tevinter.”
“Who. Exactly,” Fenris asks, an edge to his voice. Isabela shrugs.
“Some magister.” He takes off immediately, grabbing a quiver and a bow, tucking a dagger into his belt. Isabela is calling after him as he unties a horse, digs his heels into its side. He can still hear her voice as he rides off, racing towards Lothering.
Hawke raises the cup to her mouth, tastes sweet wine. Only the finest for the finest guests. Dinner is in full swing, weary travelers taking their rest in her hall. “What lovely countryside,” Danarius leans over to speak to her and she returns his words with a polite smile.
“Thank you magister,” she says.
“Are you not fearful being so close to the Korcori Wilds? I’ve heard the Robin hides there. You must be under frequent attack from that thief,” he says.
“There isn’t much here to steal,” she tells him.
“Except for the taxes which rightfully belong to the crown,” he smiles.
“Of course,” she smiles back, feeling an ache in her cheeks from the sheer fakeness of it. Meredith is watching her through a suspicious gaze, her hands folded on the table, having barely touched her food or taken a sip from her cup.
“Do you know why we’re here, Lady Marian?” Hawke shifts in her seat, the smile faltering at the sound of her name.
“I assume you’re on the Robin’s trail,” she says.
“We are indeed. We’re very close now. We’ll be garrisoning in your village while we amass soldiers to assault the Korcari Wilds and drive out the Robin from hiding. I assume you have no problem with this.” Hawke forces the smile to return.
“Of course not. We’ll be happy to help in any way we’re able.” She shares a look with Aveline across the table. Arrangements will be made to scatter the others, keep them out of harm’s way. Any trace of the camp will have to be taken care of and Fenris wouldn’t be able to stay in Lothering. Not when so many who know his face linger. Isabela would have no trouble smuggling him away. She would have to play her part as well, the kneeling lady to the crown.
“Has the Robin stolen much from you?” Danarius watches her intently, his steely gaze fixed on her.
“Enough,” Hawke says.
“She took something that was meant to be mine. Property which was promised to me.”
“This thing sounds valuable,” Hawke says through gritted teeth.
“He is.” His eyes to not leave hers. “My little Fenris.” She has to work to keep the distaste from showing. “Royalty that the King promised to me in exchange for an alliance with Tevinter. Do you want a war with Tevinter my lady?”
“Of course not.”
“Then give him back to me,” Danarius hisses, slamming his cup down onto the table. Aveline is on her feet at the same time as Meredith, each pointing swords at each other from across the table. Both sides follow their commander’s lead, Hawke’s guards against Denerim’s finest. Hawke is reaching for the blade hidden under her dress but Danarius never needed to hide his. Her movements stop the moment the cold iron touches her neck. “I am tired of playing pretend. We know you are the Robin.”
“You’ll never find him,” she tells him coldly.
“He wasn’t yours to take,” Danarius says.
“And I was never yours to keep.” Hawke looks around wildly until she spots him, on one of the higher windows of the hall. Perched on the sill, a bow in his hands, an arrow nocked and pointed. Danarius’s eyes widen when he sees him, pushes the blade into her neck hard enough to draw blood.
“Come to me, my little wolf, and I’ll let her go,” he says as he drags Hawke up from the chair, holds her like a shield in front of him.
“Your words mean nothing,” Fenris says, pulling at the string. Hawke has her eyes on him, making subtle gestures. Relax. Breathe. Take your time. He lets out the breath he’s holding, feeling the arrow slip through his fingers. Danarius reels backwards with a keening cry, the dagger dropping from his grasp, clapping his hands to his face. The arrow rests neatly in one of his eyes.
It is what cuts the silence, the pause, and Aveline is leaping over the table with her guards. “You did it! I knew you could! I’m so proud of you!” Hawke shouts as she throws her hands up into the air, like a parent cheering on their child. She turns quickly, dress swirling with her, and pushes the arrow even deeper. Danarius drops like a stone. Meredith is cutting through the guards, making a path towards Hawke.
“Run!” Aveline shouts at her.
“To me!” Fenris is calling out to her, throwing the rope through the window, down into the hall. Hawke is picking up her skirts, making a break for it. She sticks out her tongue at Meredith as Fenris hauls her up. He takes her hand in his, and they race across the roof. The rest of Meredith’s forces are outside, watching as they run. Fenris stops at the edge of the roof, but Hawke is pulling him with her, leaping down into the moat.
Sinking into the water, Hawke’s hand still tightly wrapped around his. She pulls him to the surface as his arrows float away from him, escaping the quiver, being taken with the current. “Hawke, I can’t swim,” Fenris is saying, desperately kicking his legs. Hawke instantly pulls herself closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist.
“Stay close to me,” she tells him. They can hear the yelling, shouting behind them, but Hawke is pulling them away. They’re shivering in the cold, clothes soaked through and through, water against skin. The castle fades in the distance and only then does she direct them to the shore, still holding tightly onto him. Climbing over rock, collapsing onto grass, lying side by side.
“He’s dead,” Fenris says through gasping breath, brushing wet locks out of his face. There’s dye on his hands, the white in his hair starting to bleed through. Turning his head to face her, teeth chattering together. Hawke is looking up at him, flecks of water on her face, running down her neck. He brushes a thumb against her cheek, wipes away the wet. “He’s dead.” A confirmation of the statement, a realization that it’s true. Some sort of weird mixture of relief and happiness flooding his chest, bursting into a grin, leaning over Hawke and pressing a kiss against cold lips. Her mouth is warm, her hand at the back of his neck, drops from his hair mixing with the wet of hers. She’s smiling when he pulls away.
“You’re free,” she tells him. “On the other hand, Aveline is going to be furious.” She breaks into hopeless laughter, and he’s helpless in joining her. Laughing together, pressing his forehead against hers, holding her tight in his arms.
#fenris#hawke#hawris#fenhawke#dragon age#fenris x hawke#fenris x f!hawke#f!fenhawke#f!hawris#f!hawke#fenris x femhawke#dragon age 2#da2#writing#mine#alternate universe#da fic swap
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Chapter 3
Rustle held tight to Eddy’s hair and watched the little circle of sea floor illuminated by the merman’s bracelet. When he’d agreed to come along with Eddy, he’d imagined his discoveries would be a bit more… substantial than they were turning out to be. It was true that his brief appearance in the merfolk town of Barnacle had given him a wealth of fresh knowledge, the primary lesson he’d learned since then was that the sea was very big and very dark. There was also the “deep” that Eddy had warned of, a pain that would creep up as they ventured further downward. No less than five times during their journey, Eddy had to stop to let Rustle’s pain ease. The final time had required a few careful recitations from the spellbook to chase the last of the pain away.
“We are close,” Eddy said. “My farm is not very much, like my home, but you shall see it all.”
“What sort of a farm can you have beneath the sea. I only know that humans and such have them, but they need sun,” Rustle said.
“Not sun here. Just warm. The good warm water is what it takes. From below.”
“Good warm water from below,” Rustle said. “Maybe when we get a moment, we can work on that spell so you can speak more clearly.”
“Yes, yes. But not soon. Work first.”
He swept lower and slowed his pace. Rustle experimentally released Eddy’s hair and worked his legs, arms, and wings. At this speed, he could just about keep up. Though it took much more effort than simply hitching a ride, it felt nice to have a bit of control over where he was going. … At least until he felt a stir of motion in the unseen water around him that flashed images of predatory creatures waiting to gobble him up. He darted a bit closer to Eddy for the sake of safety.
It was subtle, but his host was clearly more at ease in this part of the ocean than he had been even in Barnacle. The smile on his face was wider, and his motions had a more confident, smoother, more graceful quality to them. Another sign that he was entering the depths better suited to mermen than mermaids was the glow that was beginning to form at the edges of his irises and the tips of his fins and spines. It wasn’t enough to illuminate their surroundings even as well as the jellyfish lamps in his home, but it provided enough light to give form to sea floor around them.
“Here. This is my farm. Stay far from the pointy piece in the middle. Very hot. It will burn if you go close.”
Rustle strained his eyes to see the tableau opening beneath him, but with only Eddy’s natural glow, he could only make out the faintest hint of wafting forms and angular, gnarly rock formations. He could see that the farm was tucked nicely into a little rift in the sea floor. Hidden and protected as it was from the open water, Rustle decided it might be acceptable to take the measured risk of summoning some light of his own.
He shut his eyes and fluttered his wings. For a fairy, glowing took little effort. Indeed, most times it took more effort to avoid it. The smoldering blue of his own light swelled and pulsed, and slowly the ‘farm’ revealed itself to him.
A tall, narrow spire jutted up from the center of a strip of waving red fronds. The density and variety of the life here almost made up for the sparseness of the journey here. Back in the forest, most things were variations of blue or green, gray or brown. Here, every color in the rainbow seemed to get equal consideration. The stone was marbled with turquoise and yellow. The fronds ran the spectrum from pale yellow to brilliant red. Long, narrow tubes jutted up from the waving seaweed and winked with wriggling green and white forms. Scattered among them were fish and things which Rustle didn’t even know how to classify. Some looked too perfectly painted with brilliant, contrasting color to have been anything but the daydream of an idle artist. Others had the rocky, misshapen visage of something the gods knew most would never have to see. They did not scurry and hide at the arrival of the merman or the sudden appearance of light. It was as though they knew that they belonged here and anything else which might arrive was of no concern to them.
“The pointy bit there, in the middle, is where the good warm water comes from,” Eddy said.
He pointed to the milky white plume of water gushing from the top.
“Don’t go close. Very hot. The pointy things with the rushing water will burn. But look around. There isn’t much here that will try to eat you, I don’t think.”
“I would prefer a bit more certainty than that,” Rustle said.
“Me too!” Eddy said brightly.
Without further elaboration, he disappeared into the waving fronds and the slow, steady scrape of his claw-shaped tool on stone commenced. Rather than rely upon Eddy’s weak assertion of his safety, Rustle joined him among the fronds. The merman looked up from his work and smiled.
“You want to know what I do?” he asked.
“Yes please,” Rustle said.
Eddy held up the claw tool.
“Scraper, from worm teeth. Big worm teeth, from down low.”
He pointed to the stone, where assorted little snails and other hard-shelled creatures held tight to the stone and burrowed among the silt.
“Little clingers. They eat the bottom parts of the fronds, and then the fronds float up and I can’t have them. No good. So, I scrape.”
It was oddly beautiful to watch as Eddy worked. These were the same snails whose shells adorned his bracelet and provided light when jostled. As a result, each scrape across the stone caused a sweep of glowing points to appear where the snails were hiding. Though the ones on his wrist were small, many along the stones grew much larger. The merman pried one free. It was about half the size of Rustle, if he were to curl himself up.
“Such a pain, these. Always scraping and sifting. But once they are off the bottom, they have a soft bit, see?”
He pointed at the underside, then raised it up and slurped the snail from its shell.
“Good eating,” he said, juicily chewing it. “Enough of these and I don’t need lunch. And a good hard shell. Mira uses them. She makes things to sell. They don’t glow as good as the small ones, but very pretty in the right light.”
Rustle winced a bit as he watched Eddy snacking on the creature. The merman popped smaller one off a stone and offered it up.
“Try one?”
“No.”
He scratched his head. “You say you want new things, but you don’t want any of the new things.”
“I want to learn new things. I don’t need to taste them to do that.”
“You do if you want to know what they taste like.” Eddy tossed the snail into his bag and continued to maintain the roots of his patch. “What do you want to know?”
“What is that spire that sprays the hot water?”
“It is connected to way down deep. Water goes way down deep, where there are things that aren’t up here. Then it gets hot, because it is hot way down deep, and it makes it spray up and bring the new things with it. And here and there creatures eat the new things, and they grow up bigger stronger. Also, lots of different colors! Here, come, come.”
He swam through the forest of fronds until he reached what at first glance was a stretch of the rift covered with polished stones, but they fluttered now and again, causing stirrings of silt and puffs of water.
“These here, these are our shellfish. They have been in the family since my father’s father. They make pearls. Big ones. And they make them faster than anyone else's I know.” He moved a stone to reveal a little bag of them. “These are ones I found that weren’t nice enough for selling. But look at them.”
He tugged the bag open and dumped them out into his hand.
“Pearls?”
“Yes! You don’t know them?”
“No.”
“Little, pretty, hard things. Air breathers pay much for them. And most are white, but we have blue, yellow, red, mixes of colors, colors that are different if you look in different light, or in a different way. Very special. Only in farms like this.”
Rustle picked one up out of Eddy’s hand. It was tiny by merfolk standards, and a bit misshapen. It was about the size of Rustle’s fist and had a unique and gorgeous luster. The fairy was astounded by the piece.
“May I have this?” he asked.
Eddy smiled. “Yes, you can have. Maybe when you go back to the surface, you will bring me something special, yes?”
“I don’t know if there is anything that would interest you.”
“You bring the thing. It will interest me. To me, that pearl is a small one I can’t sell, but you look at it like treasure. This is why we help each other, yes? Show each other the trash the other will treasure! I have much work to do, but maybe we’ll find more trash for you.”
#
Much of what Rustle reasoned must have been the morning was spent tending to the roots of his frond patch, weeding out those too small to be of any use and harvesting those that had grown large enough. When that was through, Eddy donned the odd garment he’d packed away. It was a thick, rough gray hide, like some manner of leather but with a rubberier texture. It covered him along the front like a smock, and was paired with a skirt of sorts to protect his tail and thick mittens to protect his hands. It even had something of a backwards hood with tiny slits in it to see through, such that when fully dressed the wasn’t a scrap of flesh exposed from the front.
“What is this all about?” Rustle asked.
“The hot thing, it is best if it does not grow too tall, and that it does not clog,” Eddy said, fitting the claw over the mitten. “So I have to shape the top sometimes.”
He glanced left, right, and up, then lowered his voice and whispered. “Also I need this for getting into my mine. We go there next.”
He swam up while Rustle watched. Curious as the fairy was, the heat from the water plume was already as much as he could handle. Perhaps sensing Rustle’s curiosity, after Eddy had chipped away a bit of end of the spire, he caught the removed piece in his gloved hand and swam back with it.
“This is very special,” he said, holding bit of stone, still so hot it made the water around it sizzle and shimmer. “These bits have very much of the same new things that are in the water. And they are lucky. If you bury one of these under a new home, that home will be a place of wealth and happiness. I will leave it here. Maybe you will take it with you. Not so much trash as the bad pearl, but still interesting. That is for later. Now we go to the mine. Inside we will have lunch, and then more work. There are many new things for you there. Things even mermaids never see. Come!”
He grabbed his bag and swam deeper through rift. Rustle buzzed along as best he could, but a mixture of his own fatigue and Eddy’s enthusiasm caused him to fall behind. He wasn’t terribly concerned about it. In all of the time they had been in the rift, nothing particularly large and frightening had reared its head. A few of the more grotesque denizens of the deep he’d seen could probably make a meal of Rustle if they tried, but they were all far too slow to catch him even at his diminished speed. And with the glow of his fins and spines, Eddy was simple enough to spot at a distance. So Rustle moved at his own pace and gazed at his surroundings.
Beyond the grounds of Eddy’s ‘farm,’ the rift was a much wilder and more chaotic place. A few threads of the same feathery seaweed grew here or there, but they were joined by prickly or spongy growths of various types. Other hot water spires jutted up, each with their own bloom of life around them. Through time and practice, Rustle found his connection with the water very slowly developing… though sometimes he could swear he felt a hint of the crisp, lively energy of wind and air even here in the water. He stopped and touched his fingers to the stone. It wasn’t possible, of course. How could there be anything more than a little trapped pocket of air like the one near the shore? And even something that large didn’t seem likely. Still, knowing that didn’t change the fact that he could feel the shadow of a whisper of a breeze somewhere beneath him. So strange…
“Come!” Eddy called. “Nearly there!”
Rustle set the consideration aside and fluttered along after the merman until he reached what was easily the least inviting patch of sea floor he’d yet encountered. A section of the rift wall had eroded away somewhat, and in the inky blackness within the scoured-out tunnel, scalding hot water and cloudy silt swirled and churned. The more jagged and horrid looking growths and creatures he’d spotted along the way seemed utterly enamored by the opening, gathering around its perimeter and giving it the look of a snarling mouth ringed with teeth.
“I found this one day, looking for good stones,” Eddy called, the rush of water making it difficult to hear him. “Most times the hot water comes up through the stone. I see this here, with the water in the stone, and I think, maybe there is more tunnel behind. And there is. So much good things behind it. And because it is so hard to get to, no one else ever comes. No one even knows it is there.”
“You have to swim through that?” Rustle called.
“Yes! But I have these clothes. If I am fast, it does not hurt at all.”
“What about me?”
“I have this bag!”
“Eddy, I don’t like being—”
“It will be fast!” Eddy assured him.
Before he could object further, the merman snatched him and tossed him into the bag. Eddy launched forward, pinning Rustle to the bottom of the satchel amid the glass jar of sweets, a few eels, assorted shells, and other loose ends. The bag shook and a few errant spritzes of hot water made it past the flap, but it was over after a few seconds and a mitten-clad hand reached in to free him.
“See! Quick! … Did I do wrong?” Eddy said.
Rustle’s eyes, fists, and teeth were clenched tight.
“Eddy, how many times do I have to tell you? Fairies don’t like to be shut away in tight spaces! It is bad enough I’m in the sea, away from the wind and sky, but then you throw me in a bag and drag me into a cave without even waiting to see what I have to say about it?” Rustle raved, buzzing about.
“Calm! Be calm! Don’t hit,” Eddy said, flinching when Rustle buzzed close. “There is room here. Lots of room. I am sorry about the bag but there is lots of room, and many things for you to see!”
He tugged at his outfit and slid it free, tucking it into his bag. They were not far from where the billows of hot water gave way to the marginally cooler water of the cave. With the outfit shed, the glow of his spines and eyes, when combined with Rustle’s glow, illuminated the walls adequately to reveal a remarkable amount of detail. And indeed, despite his lingering anger, once Rustle allowed himself to look upon the walls he was rendered speechless by what he saw. Scattered liberally about the walls were strange organic shapes set into the stone. He recognized the curl of shells like those of the snails, clams, and other odd creatures Eddy had shown off further up in the rift, but these weren’t quite the same. They were larger, and seemed to be made from the stone itself. Veins of glittery stone threaded among them, catching the light and making the walls seem to shimmer as he moved.
“What are they?” Rustle said.
“The shiny bit is silver and gold. The stone creatures? I do not know. There are more, other places in the mine. Some are things I have never seen beyond the walls of this place.”
“Amazing…”
“You see? I show you things no one else sees. Very nice, yes? Now you!”
“Now me what?”
“We have lunch. You see all of this because of me. Now you tell me things I don’t know.”
He dug out the jar of sweets, then unfurled one of the eels and gingerly held it into the swirling, scalding water for a few moments.
Rustle took an offered sweet and nibbled at it as Eddy continued.
“Already I know that a fairy can glow, and that a fairy is afraid of small places even though a fairy is small. And they punch harder than a little thing should be able to punch and have bad tempers. These things I did not know. What are more things?”
“Um…” Rustle began, rubbing the back of his neck. “It is hard to say. When you’re surrounded by something all your life, it’s hard to know it’s special. And if you don’t know anything about me, then where do I start?”
Eddy pulled the eel from the hot water and messily crunched into it. Rustle grimaced and looked away.
“Wherever you want, Rustle. It is all new to me!” Eddy said, munching happily. “Maybe we look at the book, and you teach me better magic? I bet even Mira doesn’t learn fairy-style magic.”
“I think that may be a good idea. If I am breathing water because of a spell you cast, I would like to know that you could cast it again if you need to.”
“That one I can cast very much. But I want to know the others.”
He pulled the book from his bag and spread it out on the flattest bit of cave floor he could find. Rustle looked over the pages briefly, but there wasn’t much reason for it. Though the book had the subtle but undeniable aura of a thing of mystic power, the looping shapes spiraling across the page may as well have been random smudges for all he knew.
“You know… I can’t read this. Fairies speak. We tell each other things. The marks we leave are simple. Circles of stones and leaves. We don’t have spell books. I cannot read this.”
Eddy nodded. “This I was afraid of. But still. You say fairies are good with magic, and you are good with it even without spell books. I am bad with magic, but even I can do magic with the spell book. So a fairy that can use a spell book would be very good with magic, and that would help me to be better!”
Rustle flitted down and stood atop the page, eying the complex shapes. “I suppose. But that would mean I’d have to learn to read this. That will take time. More time than we have, probably. What if I try to help you in different ways?”
“Like how?”
“How do you cast the spell?”
He slapped a finger down on the page at the beginning of a spiral, nearly bumping Rustle from the book. “I say this word here, and all of the others after it, very much times. Over and over. And then something happens maybe.”
“You don’t focus?”
“Focus? No. Only read. I should focus?”
“You must. That’s all magic is, at least for us. You reach out into the power of the world around you and… ask it to do as you wish. But to do it, you have to be aware of it, to feel it.”
“You show me how to do this.”
“You may as well be asking me how to show you to breathe.”
“Yes! You show me how to breathe! I do not do this to air without magic, so that is a help.”
“No, that’s not what I… Fine. Close your eyes.”
Eddy nodded happily and shut his eyes, though their glow was still eerily visible through the thin skin of his eyelids.
“Now just feel the air… er… the water around you. Feel how it moves, and—”
Eddy took another noisy bite of his eel and munched happily. Rustle glared at him, a pointless gesture since his eyes were still shut.
“If you are focusing, then you are only focusing. That’s the point of it!” Rustle said.
“So no eating at the same time?”
“No!”
“This will be less fun than I hoped.”
He let the eel float beside him and dedicated himself wholly to the task.
“Just feel the way it moves around you. When you move your hand or fin, feel how it curls and swirls.”
“I do this. I know how the water moves.”
“I don’t want you to know how it moves. I want you to feel it. To sense it with more than your skin. Sense it in your mind.”
Eddy nodded again and shut his eyes tighter, as though exerting physical effort would somehow bring enlightenment more quickly. Rustle tried to open his mind as well. Water had a different nature to it than air, but they had much in common. The others back home said the truly talented water fairies found a way to use their innate knowledge and affinity for wind to connect to the water as well, and then they became much more powerful. They lived longer, they were able to venture further from home and take greater risks. They were legends among their people. He himself had never gotten the knack. To him they had always been two different things. When he reached out with his mind, inviting the energy of the water to mix with his, inevitably he found his will and thoughts drawn toward the air, distracting him from the water.
He paused for a moment… Even now, it was the feeling of air that drew the focus of his mind… Air that was quite near.
He turned toward the darkened tunnel ahead. There was no mistaking it. Somewhere out there, tantalizingly beyond his fingertips, there was air. No. Not just air. Wind. It had the life and stir of a breeze along the surface, but the surface was so very far away. How could that be?
Without an explanation, Rustle buzzed through the water toward the source. He had to know. Being cut off from his home wind had been steadily bothering him more and more. The promise of a real breeze felt like he was being offered a cool drink of water after wasting in the desert for days. He needed to feel the air on his skin again.
He drifted deeper and deeper into the darkness. His own dim, natural glow lit the way. The veins of precious metal twisted away, following other branching paths. The tool marks left by years of mining became sparse and scattered. The tunnel walls had a sharper, rougher texture here. The stone caught his glow with a glassy sheen. Little open voids covered the entire tunnel around him, like a churning foamy sea had been instantly turned to stone, the bursting bubbles now forming razor sharp edges. But as he traveled, the feel of the air drew nearer.
He came to a stone that was unlike the others. It was the same dull gray as the entrance of the mine. The edges were too smooth and precise to have been caused by a break. This was crafted and moved. He could not conceive of the amount of effort it must have taken, as it reached from floor to ceiling, truly massive. From Rustle’s diminutive point of view, moving it would have been like moving a mountain. He investigated all around it and found that it fit quite snuggly against the wall of the tunnel. There wasn’t a crack or crevice large enough for him to squeeze though—not that he would have risked it with the harsh texture of the walls in this section of tunnel. But there was no question in his mind. Somewhere not far behind this stone lay a drifting, vibrant wind.
“Rustle! Little fairyman!” called Eddy’s voice in the distance, flavored with concern.
“Here!” Rustle called.
The distant glow of Eddy’s eyes and fins approached from the darkened tunnel behind him.
“Rustle! I tried to focus and when I stopped you were not there! You must tell me when you go!” Eddy said.
“What is this stone, Eddy?”
Eddy looked the stone up and down. “I do not know. A stone where it does not belong.”
“That was my thinking. Have you ever seen it before?”
“Did you pass anything but black stone on the way here?”
“No.”
“Then why would I have come this way. There is much good stuff in the mine, closer to the opening. I never needed to come so deep.” He swam a little closer. “Someone made this stone…”
“I thought so too.”
“How did you find it?”
“I felt air behind it. More than just a few bubbles.”
“No… Air so low? That does not happen. Never that I’ve seen.”
“I am certain of it. It is a shame the stone is impossible to move. I wonder if we could see where the air is.”
Eddy ran his fingers over the stone, then clapped away the silt.
“I will move it.”
“But it is enormous.”
He crossed his arms and threw his head back proudly. “I am a merman. We go down deep, and we are strong. It is what we do. Wait here, Rustle. I will get my things.
#
After a few moments, Eddy returned. His heart was soaring at all of the new and exciting things that had happened already. For years, his days had been largely the same. Collect some pearls, give them to Mira. Tend to the fronds, tend to the shellfish, tend to the mines, and back with the final tide to sleep and more of the same the next day. Even having someone to talk to, to explain the tedium to, had brightened his day enormously. And now, right here within his own mine, there was something new. It was wonderful. It was a sign that seeking someone from the surface was the right thing to do.
He found his way to where Rustle was waiting beside the stone.
“Move aside, Rustle,” Eddy said, setting down the things he had fetched.
In addition to his bag, his outfit, and his claw, he’d brought some of the tools he usually left here in the mine. Right now, the one that made the most sense was his pick-rod. He pulled on his mittens and took the rod in hand.
“What’s that?”
“This is my pick!”
“It looks a bit crude.”
Eddy gripped it with both hands and looked rather defensive. It was crude, little more than a slightly crooked length of metal with a blunt, hammered end. More than anything else, it looked like a spear of all metal construction that had been horribly dulled, or perhaps never properly sharpened.
“It is a fine pick. Things of metal, bigger than bits of jewelry, are very hard to get for merfolk. The merfolk who work metal must be near the Glowing Pools, or else they must trade with those from above. Surface people do not make many tools that are good for the water. This is a fine pick. It belonged to my father. You will see how fine. Move away.”
Rustle helpfully flitted to the far side of the tunnel. Eddy swam back a fair distance, gripped the rod tightly, then pumped his tail madly. In no time at all he was cutting through the water at an incredible pace. He reached the stone and hurled the pick with all of his considerable might. With his strength and speed combined, it penetrated the rock easily, wedging firmly between the black of the tunnel and the gray of the unexplained blockage.
Eddy looped back and grasped the pick handle, but it didn’t budge. He smirked and adjusted his mitts, then held firm and started to work his tail. The current of the powerful strokes kicked up bits of stone and silt that hadn’t been disturbed in ages. The water turned murky. Rustle darted further and further away to spare himself the rushing water and stinging fragments of sharp stone. Then, with a long, slow grind, the stone started to move. It barely budged before coming to a stop, but that was enough. The merman wedged one mitt through the gap he’d created and held firm to the wall, then grasped the stone and heaved. Thus anchored, and therefore able to depend upon his raw strength rather than the thrust of his tail, he started to make real progress. The gray stone slid, rolled, and finally tipped forward, sending up a final, monumental rush of stone and silt.
He shielded his eyes as the whoosh of water swept his long hair back. When the dust cleared, he blinked the silky, fine silt from his eyes.
Rustle darted back to join him. There was a fresh branch of tunnel, nearly as large as the one that had led this far. But unlike the rest of the tunnel, in this portion the walls had been smoothed, the only roughness coming not from viciously sharp, ancient voids but instead more of the crusty green growth. And ahead, just visible at the edge of their glow, the tunnel curved upward. They swam along, following the curve of the tunnel up and down, left and right. The smoothed portion abruptly stopped, with a few very-clear merfolk words etched into the stone.
Beware. Danger.
“What does it say?” Rustle asked.
“Just telling us there is more ahead to watch for,” Eddy replied.
It wasn’t so far from the truth.
They continued forward, where the walls returned to their razor sharp texture. The crusty green growth tapered off sharply, and the water had an oddly stale feel to it. Eventually, at the peak of a final upward slope in the tunnel, they could just barely make out the silvery, churning refraction of the water’s surface.
Both fairy and merman wordlessly approached the surface. They blinked at each other, then at the surface again. Eddy was the first to brave the it. He stuck his head up, but once he left the water, the glow if his eyes faded, leaving him staring into pitch blackness. He squinted his eyes as a warm, constant wind whistled against him.
Rustle darted up out of the water, then flopped down upon the smoothed stone near the surface. The gentle lapping of water over untold centuries had smoothed it sufficiently that the fairy didn’t injure himself, but he seemed unable to lift his own weight with his wings. Rustle coughed and gagged. Eddy spat and coughed until his lungs were clear, then croaked the words of the water-for-air spell. The fairy shook his head and staggered to his feet.
“Until you learn your own water-for-air, you have to tell me when you want to leave,” Eddy said.
The fairy a mouthful of water, then flicked the sea from his wings and buzzed into the air.
“You could have warned me.”
“That is what I said to you.”
Rustle glared at Eddy for a moment, then turned and let himself drift on the wind, barely fluttering his wings.
“It is so wonderful to have the wind about me again!” He flitted in a loop. “I feel light as a feather again. But this wind… it’s so different. It’s nothing like the wind of home. Like they haven’t touched and mixed in years. Perhaps they’ve never touched at all.”
They each strained their eyes, but their light didn’t penetrate more than a few feet from the small pool at the mouth of the tunnel. It felt like they were a little island of reality at the edge of an endless void of oblivion.
“What is this place?” Rustle said.
Eddy grinned wide. “I will tell you, Rustle the fairyman. This… is adventure.”
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K-12 Words
K
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1.1
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1.2
interest job because such think thirteen subject answer letter meet north length need times divide (by) times table edge soft months present energy point sound log south wide members exercise flowers set found things heart cause site brother teacher live read billion another distance written kept direction developed wall east happy million world must house turn west change well twenty felt put end does large big even here why ask went men land different home us move try kind hand picture again off dress play spell air away animal page mother study still learn should America
2.1
paragraph weather window third believe discovered simple gone paint new store form cells matter follow perhaps cannot good means around line center kind reason move forest sentence return instruments beside represent wild study back farmers sum difference product quotient remainder mother animal land region record summer general caterpillar scratch modern adjust passenger promise equal creak almost croak book dainty song high every near add food between own below country plant last school father keep tree never start city earth eyes light thought head under story saw left don’t few while along might close something seem next hard open example begin life always those both paper together got group often run
2.2
misty poor caution pest phrase life startle squirm alone centaur rise mountain above illustrator footprint temperature decorate country sweat sometimes hair smiled everything began thick compass themselves enough took although splendid crowded second act attach sly talk wonder let’s whirl someone Africa borrow beat belong blink per fasten pain begin drenched bed shell free earth tiny slippery count factors important until children side feet car mile night walk white sea grow river four carry state once book hear stop without late miss idea eat face watch far Indian real almost let girl mountains cut young soon list song being leave family it’s
3.1
drowsy bashful hatch glad copy possible wicked grin sibling shovel run verb sail polish ride young steep case Indian laughed soil appear bolts costume melody narrow behave howl example flee together lot filthy alarm spiral selfish idea conductor fight rolled middle glacier tree dizzy gather sneaky already construct every miss lively metal couldn’t gold plant mask chat nation hear either bundle section near rescue face divide sob celebrate family loosen jealous crash chimney daily own cozy ripe cut son natural serious carry care paper broken cue within body music color stand questions fish area mark horse birds problem complete room knew since ever piece told usually didn’t friends easy heard order red door sure become top ship across today during short better best however low hours black products happened whole measure remember early waves reached
3.2
being instead ache exactly hard speed buy age late artistic close affordable fraction eyes appetite complain sleep seem eat below remove rusty grow glum stormy trust enormous scale open add grab upset weed denied expensive story terrified lead jumped died basket side bear bend list tomb while batch grateful father gleaming dress light sprinkle amount exclaim result yank leave cheat whimper angle outside remain heap champion surprise dodge moment fancy squeeze pretend village shriek city thunder rapid iron striped don’t attitude bell hat tug isn’t applause children honest cross spring freezing listen wind rock space covered fast several hold himself toward five step morning passed vowel true hundred against pattern numeral table north expert slowly money map farm pulled draw voice seen cold cried plan notice south sing war ground fall king town I’ll unit figure certain field travel wood fire upon
4.1
pattern cave hope mile group travel blush killed seed bottom hide important let ticket timid pounds restart silent cranky keep real bright quite curved repeat trip without dart consonant mountains quiet apologize roar grip groan bolt food injury century exhausted cabin atmosphere floor it’s scold transportation delighted giant hill something build fog method rough left everyone obey deserve speak therefore soon french switch until pushed state knob hobby between surround collect fire I’ll arrive road happened certain top order astronomy inches club catch farm nibble color yourself received connect told gaze check wear English half ten fly gave box finally wait correct oh quickly person became shown minutes strong verb stars front feel fact street decided contain course surface produce building ocean class note nothing rest carefully scientists inside wheels stay green known island week less machine base ago stood
4.2
round award crowd slowly yet products, goods, services vowel himself strange whose draw team hold feel flood sent save stood yard notice warn enemy deep please flap coast music wrote safe blast behind island lizard figure famous garden correct whisper listen joined clear share net thus calf maybe cried piece fold seen england decided bank fell pair control clean telescope trouble glass float morning horse produce course hunting rest step statement contain shouted filled zigzag accident cents instrument fly single express visit desert seeds chew dome experiment break gravity against branch size low plane system ran boat game force brought understand warm common bring explain dry though language shape thousands yes equation government heat full hot check object am rule among noun power cannot able six dark ball material special heavy fine circle include built
5.1
mark wealthy row feeling across attention ran map students inside design art mouth ring skill hot during shelter full till log (book) blossom discard bring quickly scientists party town covered wise early cram grain harm goal pause inform heal clue fame freeze badge pimple dim missionary diet dumb rod march agree stick government bulb mall ban greed skiing poison stove image grew fact material dangerous flow gap ago stack explain didn’t strong voice true drawing surface gift corner cloud since king dawn pulled dozen friends greedy burning upon knew insect decimal nervous pay foot weak smooth aware steady serve lost nonetheless beach front atlas questions less cost slight motor banner wire area carefully separate equation local minutes fast table plan fine waves fair sing dive suppose boat thousands shape among toward gas factory birds wait understand sure ship report captain human game history reflect special brave bounce though else can’t matter square syllables perhaps bill felt suddenly test direction center farmers ready anything divided general energy subject Europe moon region return believe dance members picked simple cells paint mind love cause rain exercise eggs train blue wish drop developed window difference distance heart site sum summer wall forest probably
5.2
include cage language base red brain building feast better built demolish excess leap tower ocean plains cold claw information scholar climbed woman worry strand heavy herd common ground damp pack choose president least increase half english invent class measure dash tremble object become doubt became bare wheels continued shiver engine core couple business stars week peak numeral brought nothing touch reached uncle symbols however rumor evening inasmuch (as) force curious heat career system valley dust flock spray robber practice lonely remember luxury warm heard calm rock frighten leader difficulty best gum cheer key support universe stream bit usually fish parade balance money note cliff stand proof you’re pale machine complete cool shown street today shy easy several search unit war power caught settle itself fuel mention fresh planet plane straight period person able direct space wood seal field circle lady board besides hours passed known whole similar underline main winter wide written length reason kept interest arms brother race present beautiful store job edge past sign record finished discovered wild happy beside gone sky grass million west lay weather root instruments meet third months paragraph raised represent soft whether clothes flowers shall teacher held describe drive appreciate structure visible artificial
6.1
afraid absorb british seat fear stretched furniture sight oxygen coward rope clever yellow albeit confess passage france fan cattle spot explore rather active death effect mine create wash printed process origin rose swift woe planets doze gasp chief perform triumph value substances tone score predict property movement harsh tube settled defend reverse ancient blood sharp border fierce plunge consider terms vision intend total schedule attract average intelligent corn dead southern glide supply convince send continent brief mural symbol crew chance suffix habit insects entered nursery especially spread drift major fig diagram guess wit sugar predator science necessary moisture park ordeal nectar fortunate flutter gun forward globe misery molecules arctic won’t actually addition washington cling rare lie steel pastime soldiers chill accordingly capital prevent solution greek sensitive electric agreed thin provide indicate northern volunteer sell tied triangle action opposite shoulder imitate steer wander except match cross speak solve appear metal son either ice sleep village factors result jumped snow ride care floor hill pushed baby buy century outside everything tall already instead phrase soil bed copy free hope spring case laughed nation quite type themselves temperature bright lead everyone method section lake iron within dictionary bargain loyal resource struggle vary capture exclaim gloomy insist restless shallow shatter talent atmosphere brilliant endure glance precious unite certain clasp depart journey observe superb treasure wisdom
6.2
prepared journey trade delicate arrived track cotton hoe furnish exciting view grasp level branches privilege limit wrong enable ability various moreover spoil starve dollars digest advice sense accuse pretty wasn’t industry adopt loyal suggested blow treasure cook adjective doesn’t wings tools crops loud smell frail wisdom fit expect ahead lifted deed device weight gradual respect interesting arrange particular compound examine cable climate division individual talent fatal entire advantage opponent wouldn’t elements column custom enjoy grace theory suitable wife shoes determine allow marsh workers difficult repeated thrill position born distant revive magnificent shop sir army struggled deal plural rich rhythm rely poem company string locate church mystify elegant led actual responsible japanese huge fun meat observe swim office chart avoid factories block called experience win crumple brilliant located pole bought conditions sister details primary survey truck recall disease radio rate scatter decay signal approach launch hair age amount scale pounds although per broken moment tiny possible gold milk quiet natural lot stone act build middle speed count consonant someone sail rolled bear wonder smiled angle fraction Africa killed melody bottom trip hole poor let’s fight surprise French died beat exactly remain fingers clever coast explore imitate pierce rare symbol triumph ancient cling disturb expose perform remote timid bashful brief compete consider delightful honor reflex remark brink chill conquer fortunate fury intend pattern vibrant wit
7.1
capture remark western outcome risk current bold compare resident ambition arrest furthermore desire confuse accurate disclose considerable contribute calculate baggage literacy noble era benefit orchard shabby content precious manufacture dusk afford assist demonstrate instant concentrate sturdy severe blend vacant weary carefree host limb pointless prepare inspire shallow chamber vast ease attentive source frantic lack recent distress basic permit threat analyze distract meadow mistrust jagged prefer sole envy hail reduce arena tour annual apparent recognize captivity burrow proceed develop humble resist peculiar response communicate circular variety frequent reveal essential disaster plead mature appropriate attractive request congratulate address destructive fragile modest attempt tradition ancestor focus flexible conclude venture impact generosity routine tragic crafty furious blossom concern ascend awkward master queasy release portion plentiful alert heroic extraordinary frontier descend invisible coax entrance capable peer terror mock outstanding valiant typical competition hardship entertain eager limp survive tidy antonym duplicate abolish approach approve glory magnificent meek prompt revive watchful wreckage audible consume glide origin prevent punctuate representative scorn stout woe arch authentic clarify declare grant grave opponent valid yearn admirable automatic devotion distant dreary exhaust kindle predict separation stunt
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evade debate dedicate budge available miniature petrify pasture banquet pedestrian solitary decline reassure nonchalant exhibit realistic exert abuse dictate minor monarch concept character strategy soar beverage tropical withdraw challenge kin navigate purchase reliable mischief solo combine vivid aroma spurt illuminate narrator retain excavate avalanche preserve suspend accomplish exasperate obsolete occasion myth reign sparse gorge intense revert antagonist talon aggressive alternate retire cautiously blizzard require endanger luxurious senseless portable sever compensate companion visual immense slither guardian compassion escalate detect protagonist oasis altitude assume seldom courteous absurd edible identical pardon approximate taunt achievement homonym hearty convert wilderness industrious sluggish thrifty deprive independent bland confident anxious astound numerous resemble route access jubilation saunter hazy impressive document moral crave gigantic bungle prefix summit overthrow perish visible translate comply intercept feeble exult compose negative suffocate frigid synonym appeal dominate deplete abundant economy desperate diligent commend boycott jovial onset burden fixture objective siege barrier conceive formal inquire penalize picturesque predator privilege slumber advantage ambition defiant fearsome imply merit negotiate purify revoke wretched absorb amateur channel elegant grace inspect lame tiresome tranquil boast eloquent glisten ideal infectious invest locate ripple sufficient uproar
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apprehensive dialogue prejudice marvel eligible accommodate arrogant distinct knack deposit liberate cumulative consequence strive salvage chronological unique vow concise influence lure poverty priority legislation significant conserve verdict leisure erupt beacon stationary generate provoke efficient campaign paraphrase swarm adhere eerie mere mimic deteriorate literal preliminary solar soothe expanse ignite verge recount apparel terrain ample quest composure majority collide prominent duration pursue innovation omniscient resolute unruly optimist restrain agony convenient constant prosper elaborate genre retrieve exploit continuous dissolve dwell persecute abandon meager elude rural retaliate primitive remote blunder propel vital designate cultivate loathe consent drastic fuse maximum negotiate barren transform conspicuous possess allegiance beneficial former factor deluge vibrant intimidate idiom dense awe rigorous manipulate transport discretion hostile clarity arid parody boisterous capacity massive prosecute declare stifle remorse refuge predicament treacherous inevitable ingenious plummet adapt monotonous accumulate reinforce extract reluctant vacate hazardous inept diminish domestic linger context excel cancel distribute document fragile myth reject scuffle solitary temporary veteran assault convert dispute impressive justify misleading numerous productive shrewd strategy villain bluff cautious consist despise haven miniature monarch obstacle postpone straggle vivid aggressive associate deceive emigrate flexible glamour hazy luxurious mishap overwhelm span blemish blunt capable conclude detect fatigue festive hospitality nomad supreme
8.2
exclude civic compact painstaking supplement habitat leeway minute hoax contaminate likeness migration commentary extinct tangible originate urban unanimous subordinate collaborate obstacle esteem encounter futile cordial trait improvises superior exaggerate anticipate cope evolve eclipse dissent anguish subsequent sanctuary formulates makeshift controversy diversity terminate precise equivalent pamper prior potential obnoxious radiant predatory presume permanent pending simultaneously tamper supervise perceived vicious patronize trickle stodgy rant oration preview species poised perturb vista wince yearn persist shirk status tragedy trivial snare vindictive wrath recede peevish rupture unscathed random toxic void orthodox subtle resume sequel upright wary overwhelm perjury uncertainty prowess utmost throb pluck pique vengeance pelt urgent substantial robust sullen retort ponder whim saga sham reprimand vocation assimilate dub defect accord embark desist dialect chastise banter inaugurate ovation barter muse blasé stamina atrocity deter principal liberal epoch preposterous advocate audacious dispatch incense deplore institute deceptive component subside spontaneous bonanza ultimate wrangle clarify hindrance irascible plausible profound infinite accomplish apparent capacity civilian conceal duplicate keen provoke spurt undoing vast withdraw barrier calculate compose considerable deputy industrious jolt loot rejoice reliable senseless shrivel alternate demolish energetic enforce feat hearty mature observant primary resign strive verdict brisk cherish considerate displace downfall estimate humiliate identical improper poll soothe vicinity abolish appeal brittle condemn descend dictator expand famine portable prey thrifty visual
9.1
stance vie instill exceptional avail strident formidable rebuke enhance benign perspective tedious aloof encroach memoir mien desolate inventive prodigy staple stint fallacy grope vilify recur assail tirade antics recourse clad jurisdiction caption pseudonym reception humane ornate sage ungainly overt sedative amiss convey connoisseur rational enigma fortify servile fastidious contagious elite disgruntled eccentric pioneer abet luminous era sleek serene proficient rue articulate awry pungent wage deploy anarchy culminate inventory commemorate muster adept durable foreboding lucrative modify authority transition confiscate pivotal analogy avid flair ferret decree voracious imperative grapple deface augment shackle legendary trepidation discern glut cache endeavor attribute phenomenon balmy bizarre gullible loll rankle decipher sublime rubble renounce porous turbulent heritage hover pithy allot minimize agile renown fend revenue versa gaunt haven dire doctrine intricate conservative exotic facilitate bountiful cite panorama swelter foster indifferent millennium gingerly conscientious intervene mercenary citadel obviously rely supportive sympathy weakling atmosphere decay gradual impact noticeable recede stability variation approximately astronomical calculation criterion diameter evaluate orbit sphere agricultural decline disorder identify probable thrive expected widespread bulletin contribution diversity enlist intercept operation recruit survival abruptly ally collide confident conflict protective taunt adaptation dormant forage frigid hibernate insulate export glisten influence landscape native plantation restore urge blare connection errand exchange
9.2
feasible teem pang vice tycoon succumb capacious onslaught excerpt eventful forfeit crusade tract haggard susceptible exemplify ardent crucial excruciating embargo disdain apprehend surpass sporadic flustered languish conventional disposition theme plunder ignore project complaint title dramatic delivery litter experimental clinic arrogance preparation remind atomic occasional conscious deny maturity closure stressed translator animate observation physical further gently registration suppress combination amazing constructive allied poetry passion ecstasy mystery cheerful contribution spirit failed gummy commerce prove disagreement raid consume embarrass preference migrant devour encouragement quote mythology destined destination illuminating struggle accent ungrateful giggle approval confidence expose scientist operation superstitious emergency manners absolutely swallow readily mutual bound crisp orient stress sort stare comfort verbal heel challenging advertisement envious sex scar astonish basis accuracy enviable alliance specific chef embarrassed counter tolerable sympathetic gradually vanish informative amaze royal furry insist jealousy simplify quiver collaborate dedicated flexible function mimic obstacle technique archaeologist fragment historian intact preserve reconstruct remnant commence deed exaggeration heroic impress pose saunter wring astound concealed inquisitive interpret perplexed precise reconsider suspicious anticipation defy entitled neutral outspoken reserved sought equal absorb affect circulate conserve cycle necessity seep barren expression meaningful plume focused genius perspective prospect stunned superb transition assume guarantee nominate
10.1
install reticent corroborate regretfully strength murder concise cunning intention holy satire query confused progression disillusion background mundane abrupt multiple enormously introduce emulate harmful pragmatic pity rebut liberate enthusiastic elucidate camaraderie disparage nature creep profitability impression racist sobriety occupy autonomy currently amiable reiterate reproduce cripple modest offer atom provincial augment ungratefully expansion yield rashly allude immigration silence epitome exacerbate somber avid dispute vindicate collaborate manufacturer embellish superficial propaganda incompetent objective diminish statistics endure ambivalent perpetuate illuminate phenomenon exasperate originality restrict anxiety anthropology circumstances aesthetic manufacturing conventional dubious vulnerable reality precedent entity success term critical repair underscore stepmother republican hesitantly classic wary contents prediction immediate invoke notorious implicit excluding input skeptical foster element punish frank humanity profound dessert orthodox substance disappear encourage neighborhood elder superfluous naive ascertain complacent resilient deafening military tend prudent glare acceptance skillfully induce monster beam gullible conciliate vessel petty cantankerous disclose archaeology anecdote disdain electronics substantiate subjective tourism advisable joyful incredible provocative psychological ruins discipline condone indifferent misfortune judgmental industrialize tasty assume astute mission mar protective definitely escape oppress shocked virtual zealous endorse qualification hostile eccentric abstract disparate geographical scrutinize generalization tolerate activity claim dogmatic influential obsolete extol implausible subsequent resource chronic benevolent improve confidential ambiguous seriously dearth perplex hatred throughout dine contemporary evoke essentially economic flagrant obscure alleviate eloquent dreaadful clumsy sympathy victim condemn vigor condescend spontaneous quell reprehensible substantially sleeve equivocal ironic decry errand articulate progressive eradicate refreshments elicit aspiration recently exemplary bribery theoretical disingenuous partisan revere particle nostalgia self-aggrandizement debunk tyranny rhetoric hierarchy warning whimsical venerate commend assert miserable awful vibe constrain undermine explicit differentiate compliment scrupulous contempt erroneous ideal refute imply cynical rash presume insight revival vary delay renounce indignant offensive temperate circumstantial export peep logo advertise suppress distort chunk convoluted denounce overwhelming fertility rigorous acquire arrogant university antagonize profitable indulgent strategic breathing idiosyncrasy profession frugal discern accommodation adversary incredulous disturbance digress social belie roam smug continual pertinent voluntarily elite subtle blame sincerity lick horror censure involvement candid infer futile impetuous exploit bewilder sustain diligent sincere protect sealed musical empathy callous parenthetical insure acorn sarcasm seize sacrificially allege emphatic irrelevant progress diplomatic stunned improvise deride reconcile meticulous deject scientifically incontrovertible pressure justify gloomy depict supplant endurance analogous diary bolster slip contemplate pesticide glow religious advocate negligent creator lament fundamental embrace throne inherent inferior valuable thrive trivial pretense reserved capricious refresh refusal flight boost explanation coherent prevalent tenacious official royalty assassin rub poach delete
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warrant circumscribed somewhat explosive optimistic mandate previously detract opinion intuitive feasible intimate persistent humble simplicity tempt deliberate painful unethical fundamentals discrepancy remorse pessimistic possibility conclusion acknowledge impregnate soberly creation paralyze suitability oblige tranquil medal arbitrate pacify illusory susceptible vibrate vengeance infection democratic stressful grave speculative sample identification stifle obligation revenge organization namely mediocre practical scream weaken consensus affectionate deficient treacherous console isolation ingenious memory melodrama despair awestruck composition regret recommendation celebrity decision devoid opaque ornamentation longevity participate dread restore interrogate aid accordingly mislead embarrassment optimism domestic apt funds virtue geography fundamentally thoroughly press despite horrible chilling rental esteemed disappointment innovative contemplation assign popularize haunt deafen serene percent estrangement suffer extravagant throng estimate comment priesthood mass dreadfully promote periphery animated saying relate clarity triple derivative succeed distortion register suicide improvement discreet inquisition probable curative incident praise convenience baffle covet dreadful genuinely weary undisturbed disgruntled humility renown nonchalant monopoly comedy vague decisive inconsequential announcement fabricated nevertheless vigilant scarce neglectful hushed attainment tedious explode snatch pslm agency sentimental tension adhere meanwhile sacred avert conformity likewise challenger accessible responsibility peril contact event roast fallible catastrophic competitor violate resolute deceive exaggeration discredit intolerable approve paste dimly novelist demeanor norm politician satisfaction obvious vehicle reservation defer involve restoration crush audible assistant backpack attain inanimate commemorate confrontation emigration parasite disperse quantitative laughter policy vulgar occasionally repay effective eulogy starvation empty therapeutic overall immortal encompass inappropriate opportune engagement illustrate turmoil observatory classification expression reminiscence comedian invention depress remedy protagonist gesture texture diplomatic election prolong conducive emotional invigorate curiosity expressive %
K-12 Words was originally published on PinkWrite
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Prompt#1: Lull of the Forest (part 2)
The overwhelming pressure I typically feel inside the house appears to be gone and I’m not ready to leave this sanctuary so I roll onto my side to start scratching my fox friend behind the ears. The movement sends a couple flower petals floating down from my head. I reach up to find I circlet of entwined flowers perched on my crown. “Strange.” I intone sleepily. But then what it this forest isn’t? “I should probably give you a name instead of referring to you as ‘the fox’ all the time, huh? What do you think of... Fen?” The fox begins licking my hand in response and I take that as acquiescence. At this point, I notice a note on the nightstand, held there by my phone. I pick up the phone to see a message from Demeter saying that she would be staying the night in town and that she’d be back in the afternoon. I text a quick response back and grab the note. In a tall, narrow, curving script it reads, “Keep the cloak for protection. Darkness dwells deep within your abode- it would be wise to make this space your own. May the light of the goddess help you find your way.” Curiouser and curiouser. I feel as though whoever wrote the note is judging me for not erasing Dylan’s presence from the house. “I’m not sure how to make it mine,” I murmur. I haven’t felt like myself in years. There are times where I don’t even feel like a person anymore. I get up and leave the room to wander the house in consideration, leaving the door open for Fen.
What would I even do to make this place mine? I have my desk. I have my studio. Buying new furniture would be a waste- I actually like a lot of what was left behind. I could fill the place with books the way Demeter has with plants. Maybe I could take on some form of crafting. I could knit a couch cozy or something. On second thought I’ve always thought they were hideous. Ships in bottles? Challenging, requiring more focus than I’m capable of, plus what will my aesthetic be then? A pirate? I’m going to dress like a pirate now. A ship’s wheel on the wall. My bed needs a mast. Wait, how would that even work. “This is so stupid,” I mutter, clutching the sides of my head. While I would not mind the whole pirate chic look, that’s not me. I’ve never even seen the ocean. I make my way to the studio at the back of the house. The sliding door leading into my space is stuck shut and icy to the touch. What the hell? I decide to try heading outside in order to go around but the front door won’t open either. I can’t breathe. Panic digs its talons deep into my chest. The pressure in the air is back and stronger than ever. “That’s it. I’m burning this fucking house to the ground.” The aura of the house is so palpable and I feel as though it’s laughing at me. “You wanna play chicken with me, fucker?” I rush to the kitchen and start flinging paper towels everywhere. I know I need something more substantial but I’m at a loss. I make to light an entire roll with the stove but it won’t light. “You think this will stop me?” I cackle, completely mad, and pull a lighter out of my pocket. “I’m a stoner. You think I didn’t come prepared to fucking party?” I’m screaming at the house, only mildly aware of how insane I’m acting. I hear the sliding door slam open and am shaken from my state of mind. I head back to my studio to find the door open. I freeze when I see the canvas in the middle of the room. In the same sloppy handwriting as Dylan’s letter, I see in bold crimson paint: Man. You go zero to a hundred real quick. “Dylan?” No. Why me? The brush floats up from the pallette and begins to scrawl. The one and only. I’m glad you came, Riley. To say I immensely regret not burning the house down is a massive understatement of the grossest proportions. The lighter is still in my hand. It’s not too late. “Absolutely not. No. This is not something I can allow.” I did not sign up for this bullshit. The brush makes it’s way over to the paint and I back hand it out of the air before kicking the easel to the ground and stomping on the canvas. “Leave. Leave, now. I’m still ready to light this whole sucker up.” A pencil starts scribbling furiously on top of the sheathe of papers I keep on my desk. I don’t bother looking. I go back to my room, grab my phone, my wallet, the cloak, the fox, and my backpack before heading back to the studio. The pencil starts writing again but I continue to ignore it. Fen is making some seriously unhappy noises and baring it’s teeth in the direction of my desk. I throw open the back doors and leave, straight for the forest. I stop at the treeline to send Demeter a text. Me: Dylan has not left the building . D: what Me: He’s. Fucking. HauNtiNG. OUR. HOUSE. Me: I’m heading out. Let me know when you’re coming home and I’ll return. D: Where are you going? Me: The woods. Which, and I never thought I would say this, are safer. I’ve got Fen with me. D: Who is Fen D: And don’t go into the woods. Me: This chill little fox that’s been hanging with me when I’m working on stuff outside. I think They sent her to watch over us. She’s curled up in my hood rn. So. Cute. D: You’re already in the forest, aren’t you Me: Of course! =D D: Of course.
I can practically feel her roll her eyes through the text.
D: Just... Don’t do anything stupid Me: That reminds me. There are papel towels all over the kitchen floor. I’ll take care of it when I get home. D: I know I’m gonna regret asking how that happened but here I am. Please tell me it was a mischeivous vulpine. Me: That asshole tried to trap me in the house so I was gonna burn it to the ground. Dylan caved as soon as I pulled out my lighter. D: I wanna say that’s unreasonable and you know better but honestly D: I don’t think I can D: Don’t burn the forest down if you see something scary Me: The only thing I’m lighting up is my holy green Me: Anything scary is getting offered a joint. Maybe the things out here will have mercy on me if they’re high.
Demeter sent me another text but I don’t read it- I’ve found my way into a meadow and in its center is the basket I’ve been bringing gifts out with. I move the cloth out of the way to find the basket full of all sorts of strange thing. At the top is a note with the same elegant handwriting as what was on my desk. Wear me. O...kay.... I move the note aside to find a large orange crystal in a filligreed silver holster attached to a large leather loop. Beneath that is... A witch’s hat? It’s forest green velvet, matching the silk of the cloak I’m wearing. It’s quite a bit more squat than the costume hats I’ve seen and there’s a rust coloured feather sticking out of a matching band around the base of the hat. “Why not.” I put the crystal necklace on followed by the hat. “I have never felt so bad ass and so ridiculous at the same time.” Fen yawns in my hood. I pick up the basket and pull the rest out. More crytals that look like they could be exchanged with the one on my necklace. Two packages wrapped in brown paper containing a mysterious book with blank pages and... a deck of tarot cards? What, are They new age hippies? A green velvet satchel I hadn’t noticed before was still at the bottom. I pulled it open to see rune stones held within and then pull the drawstrings to seal it again. “Yep. The forest folk terrorizing the town are really just new age hippies. Now this is the gay agenda I always wanted.” I check the text Demi sent me.
D: Who knows? You do seem to have a penchant for getting what you want when you focus. I mean, you just played chicken with a haunted house and it blinked first. Then again, maybe he didn’t think a suicide pact was a romantic enough first date. Me: If I had died I would have turned the tables. Haunt him and kick his scrawny etherial ass. But listen, you’ll never guess what I found in the forest D: Oh god Me: I’ve been bringing food out in a basket and leaving it near the treeline. After a while it started returning with goodies in it. I just found it out in the forest and- hold on.
I take a selfie and then a picture of the rest of the trinkets before putting them away in my bag and attactching the basket to it. I send the pictures and then keep moving while I wait for her response.
D: You aren’t the new age witch they deserve but the one they need right now Me: Crazy right? Who would have thought They would be a bunch of hippies, killing off the conservative small town in a ploy to improve society as a whole-the gay liberal agenda I do deserve and definitely need right now. Me: Maybe they’re recruiting freedom fighters. I’ll go bitch slap some gun nuts in the face for fun, let alone a revolution. I wonder how they feel about guillotines. D: I’m always down for nazi punching and lopping off the heads of the bourgeoisie Me: Is it bad that I’m digging this look? It just feels so right. D: I wonder if they provide essential oils with the enlistment package; I don’t care for infusers but I’ve kinda always wanted to try making bath bombs since discovering the wonders of Lush
We continue our conversation as I wander further north. I feel more and more sets of curious eyes on me as I trek but sense no animosity. Eventually I reach a grassy knoll and sprawl out on it, staring up at the clouds as they drift by. Fen wanders off and I, for the third day in a row, fall asleep in a place that should terrify me. All manner of strange creature fills my dreams, but they are pleasant. In my final dream, the earth swallows me. I sink down into it, throwing down roots to grow into something more. Voices surround me but I am not concerned for I am safe in the earth’s embrace.
“He’s waking up.” Is the last thing I want to hear when I awaken, and anxiety crawls up my spine like a particularly large centipede, digging it’s many feet into my flesh. The first thing I see is a man leaning in way too close with bright green eyes, a cheerful expression, and a fiery halo of messy hair. “You know, for someone from the village, you sure feel comfortable falling asleep in the forest. This makes the third time I’ve had to carry you off to safety, Riley.” He was jovial and it was a little unnerving. “Not all of us are nice.” “I believe you have nice and kind mistaken, young man.” A woman with raven black hair and crimson eyes placed a slender hand on the man’s shoulder, pulling him out of the space he was encroaching on. I breathed a little easier now that my space wasn’t being invaded. “Who are you guys? Where am I? Wait. Are those... Fox ears?” “In order: we are fae of the Seelie court. I am Queen Sylairia and this is-” The man cut her off before she could finish. “You already know my name. These are definitely fox ears.” “Fen?” I ask, bewildered. “It’s Fenrir, but you were close enough.” “Wait, Fenrir, like the wolf in norse mythology?” I called him Fen because it was short for Fennec. “That’s the one.” “But you’re a faerie that shapeshifts into a fox.” “I fail to see the problem.” Sylairia rolls her eyes and continues, “You are in the royal quarters of our domain, more specifically Fenrir’s room- and yes. Those are indeed fox ears as Fenrir just said. I am glad to see you are so very observant.” She says drily. “So, you are the changeling that caught my son’s eye.” She looks me over disapprovingly. “Spending so long away from left you with something to be desired. Several things, you are lacking in, in fact. Tell me, boy. Who is your mother?” My face must have looked like a giant question mark because Fenrir spoke up. “I don’t think he knows, mother.” “You at least knew you were not human, correct?” “Uhh....” The queen lets out an exasperated sigh, turns, and walks out muttering under her breath. “That boy... there’s no accounting for taste.” “So, uhh. Question.” I say tentatively. “Shoot.” “Did you bring me this stuff?” I sit up, lifting my arms to gesture at myself. “Yeah. The cloak is spelled with protections. The crystals grant various boons as well.” “And the hat?” “+ 5 to charisma?” “What.” “I just thought it was a good lynch pin for the whole ensemble- aaand I was right. Consider me spellbound.” He grins at me and there’s a wicked glint in his eye. I throw the hat at his face, too flustered to respond, and he laughs as he’s putting it back on my head. “The sexy warlock look suits you- though I would switch out the clothes under it for something more...” he pauses, trying to think. “I retract that. I’d switch it out for something less.” He says with a wink. “Do I need to throw something heavier at you?” The look on his face says he’s about to dig his grave deeper but he reconsiders and changes the subject, avoiding peril. “You know, I sense strong magic in you.” “This better not be another pick up line.” “Ooh, I just came up with a good one- but no. Come with me, and bring your bag.” I eye him suspiciously. “I already have you in my bed; this isn’t another flirtation.” “Fair point.” I do as he asked and follow him out. “Where are we going?” “I’m taking you to High Witch Magdelena. She’s the best teacher one could hope for.” I’m about to ask more questions when my phone pings.
D: You better still be in one piece. Me: I’m alright. Boy do I have a story for you D: I’m about to head back to the house. Meet there? Me: Not yet. I might be in faerie hq rn D: Riley, get out of there. Me: Too late, getting magic lessons from a seelie high witch brb D: Wait, Seelie? Are you sure? Me: Faeries can’t lie, right? D: ... D: True. Do you think they’re gonna help you exorcise our douchebag of a ghost? Me: I hope so. They seem to think I’m a changeling. Either way, I think you should stay away from the house for now. I guess I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back? D: Be careful. Me: Nah, I think I’ll just bumrush this whole situation. Maybe light the place on fire. D: I know you think you’re joking but I’m betting you end up lighting it on fire Me: I didn’t light the house on fire. D: That’s the first time I’ve ever heard of you failing to set something ablaze Me: first of all how dare
I put my phone away just in time for us to stop at a large, ornate doorway. “Wait out here, I’m going in to talk to her first.” Riley says, cracking the door open and disappearing through it.
The Prompt Part One Next
#Lull of the Forest#writing prompt#part 2#I wasn't planning on this being so long#i crack myself up#fiction#fantasy#my writiting#lgbt#faeries#haunted house#Riley is gonna fuck Dylan's ghost up#short story
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