#so i'm sure he KNEW from the moment he saw them at the ravine

[betryl]

One of the things that most stuck with me is Bunny's nails having dirt under them when they find his body. Not only because the image of him desperately trying to claw at anything he could find not to fall down is very raw – but also because it means it really wasn't as immediate as I thought at first. It was fast but he absolutely did have enough time to think 'he's pushed me down I'm falling I'm going to die'. He didn't die painlessly on the spot but rolled all the way down the ravine bumping into rocks, bushes and everything else fully aware of what was happening and doing everything he could to stop it, and then eventually hit the ground.

[occasionallyprosie]

"Choosing Your Path"

Chapter 1: "Lives Taken"

Event Masterlist

Next>>

"Why can't you ever just use a map! Follow the path!" Legend complained, Hyrule grinning in front of him. "Why would I even bother? It's so much more fun to not! I make my paths," Hyrule declared as he laughed. Legend covered his eyes with a hand. "You’re exhausting. "I'm the Traveler and I choose my own paths! No map can tell me what to do!"" He mocked. Hyrule just laughed at him. ...Legend wasn't laughing anymore.

Febuwhump 2024 | Alt Prompt 10: Last Man Standing

Read On AO3

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Major Character Death

They were set up for failure, Legend realized.

For starters, they were in Hyrule's era, which already was bad for them. Secondly, they were ambushed in a ravine area, high, steep slopes on two sides and monsters closing in on all four.

"Get a vantage point!" Warriors yelled. Legend whipped out his switch hook, hissed at Hyrule to swing at him, then shot at one of the archers overhead.

He switched places, only disoriented for a moment before he was drawing the first blood with Hyrule carving his switched monster apart.

Wild scaled the other side of the ravine, Legend trusted him to handle it.

He whipped out his fire rod and sent a strong blast along the ridge and at least knocking over a dozen monsters. With his general area cleared, he drew his bow and shot down a monster running down the bottom of the ridge.

They had a strong start.

He heard Four scream, he saw the smithy get thrown into the wall of the ridge. Rocks crumbled toward him and it was a pure shot of instinct that had him throwing a hand out and shooting as much magic as he could.

With the intention to protect, a magic shield formed above Four, and the rocks bounced off it.

He'd never done that before, but quickly jerked the shield larger, over the whole group, and angled it before the rocks fell again.

A few boulders crushed the incoming swarm of monsters.

"Thanks Vet!" Four called.

"Don’t make me do it again!" He called back, drawing back his bow and shooting one of the lizalfos on Wild's ridge.

A wizzro appeared across from Legend and set a magic sphere at him. It wasn't the basic elements, but it crackled with dark magic.

Alright new shield magic don’t fail now-- he pulled it up and the sphere slammed into it. Instead of bouncing off, however, it pressed further and Legend had to pour more magic to maintain the shield.

Then it exploded and the magic, though it didn't touch him, the force sent him flying back into the ravine.

"VET!" Someone screamed, Hyrule, he was pretty sure.

Thankfully, he wasn't dazed. He twisted and landed... still very badly, but not awful. He managed to roll, which sucked on rocky ground, and as a result only his shoulder was screaming in pain. He got back up as quick as he could, forcing his shoulder back into position then drawing his sword.

He heard something slam--metal crunched and Twilight screaming.

Time was injured. He looked over and sure enough, a daira had gotten to the old man. An axe had sunk into his side. Legend saw him slice off the daira's head with that giant sword of his, but he lost vision of them.

Hyrule pressed against his back. "I can't get to them!"

Legend dug out his switch hook again, his best and favorite option at getting through thick hordes of enemies, and shoved it into Hyrule's chest.

"Switches places with the target! Do what you have to."

Hyrule startled, then he nodded and launched the switch hook.

Next thing Legend knew, beside him was a lizalfos and he was cutting it down.

"CUB LOOK OUT!"

A sinking pit formed in Legend's chest, he chanced a glance up and saw Wild dodging an arrow only to get caught in the ribs by a flying javelin.

"NO!" Twilight cried.

Legend cursed. Sky was already hookshotting up and defending Wild.

We're not winning this, Legend realized. Even if we do kill them all.

He had to put distance between himself and the group. He had to pull out his stronger items and abilities, this could go much more quickly if he could.

The Bombos Medallion and Quake were just out of the question, Ether would do just fine.

The temperature dropped several degrees as ice exploded ahead of Legend.

An arrow whizzed past his ear, slicing it open. He hissed, covering the bleeding with a hand and slashing his frigid blade ahead of him.

He heard a yell. "CHOSEN'S DOWN!"

How?! He was--That's Time, Wild, and Sky. Oh goddesses, he really had to pick up the slack, and he had to do it now.

A whole minute passed before Legend forgone any option of holding back. Right before he made that decision, he heard Hyrule call out for the Captain, and then the Smithy cried out in pain.

Five down. That left the Sailor, Traveler, and the Rancher.

That's when he dropped any bars, newly discovered shield forming behind him, he released a pure explosion of flame and force in front of him.

The ravine shuddered, he staggered from using two medallions but still turned around and tried to take out the monsters he'd protected in efforts of saving his brothers from the explosion.

"SAILOR GET--" Twilight's voice cut out and was covered by a scream.

Legend actually could see the blood now. Four was unmoving with a huge, moblin-wielded mace on his chest. Warriors was trying to get up with four arrows in his back and a fifth in his chest, Legend couldn't even react fast enough before a sword impaled his stomach and he watched the light dim from the captain's eyes. Time was unmoving not far from Hyrule, who was yet untouched, thank the goddesses. Legend wasn't sure if Time had been healed or he was dead. Wild was crumbled on the ground, the spear still in his chest and Legend could see his blank eyes.

Sky was getting back to his feet, tearing a blade from his chest. He raised his blade upward and Legend watched him let out a battle cry as lightning split from the heavens and in a similar display of his own, blasted the monsters that had come from the other side of the ravine.

He collapsed right after. Legend finally spotted Wind, who had a huge gash almost bisecting him from his shoulder to his hip.

Twilight didn't last a minute later than the sailor. Legend was caught off guard by a pair of bright gold lizalfos, taking a spear to the side and barely dodging the sharp tongue. At that moment, from the corner of his eye he spotted Twilight get caught by a ball and chain, sent into the rocky wall, and he didn't get back up.

Legend blinked and Hyrule replaced the lizalfos beside him, spinning and slashing through a nearing moblin.

Their backs met.

"Just us still standin'?" Hyrule asked and Legend noticed the blood seeping down his head and how quickly his tunic was becoming soaked, a deep gash in it. He must've just been hit.

Legend nodded. "If any of the others are, I haven't seen or heard them."

"Well--I got your back."

"I got yours."

He wanted to get to Twilight, cover him until he got back up, but that was just not an option. Even with his and Sky's powerful attacks, monsters still flooded in. It was an army in the ten thousands, and Legend didn't know how many he had killed, but it was in the single thousands now, and he was matching his total kill counts from each adventure.

Hyrule must be used to unending battles like this too, and considering they were in his era, most of the monsters were ones both of them were well familiar with.

Legend didn't know how they were the last ones left, luck or what, skill? Maybe, but he knew the other heroes should've been right beside them still too.

Maybe the other heroes were more used to different battle styles, now that he thought about it. If any of them ever had to fight such a large horde, they probably had companions and therefore trusted someone to have their back and to cover their missteps. The only exception was Sky, but Legend didn't even know what took the Chosen down the first time, and he'd seen him collapse after his display of power, which had been a last ditch effort to help. Warriors was used to companions, Wild probably wasn't but he had admitted to depending on stealth to handle large masses, the Sailor and Rancher definitely weren't used to this, nor was the Smithy, and Time? Legend never knew anything about Time, but he knew the old man had been hit early, so considering how well he'd noticed his defense was, Time was probably targeted off the bat.

The difference between Legend and Hyrule, and the rest of the heroes, was first, they'd all agreed their monsters were just generally stronger, faster, and more dangerous. It came from the saturation of darkness because of Ganon's victory and reign. Wild was the same. The second difference was that, for Hyrule, he didn't have any companions so fighting to this extent alone was his usual, and for Legend, he had the experience. He hadn't fought a battle to this level, not this many opponents, but similar enough that it was like he was doing the smaller group over and over again. That, he was familiar with.

Legend lost count, he lost track of how many monsters he cut down. Just that he and Hyrule had to move before they were stuck atop a pile of dead bodies.

He grew exhausted soon enough, then he lost track of his brother.

He took an arrow to the arm at some point.

The battle went on for so long his magic had replenished enough for him to use a fire rod.

Eventually, he sliced through a monster and staggered. He expected another one to follow and yet...

Yet it was done.

Hyrule was still standing too, Legend wondered how they'd survived.

He pulled the arrow from his bicep as he staggered toward Hyrule, who was swaying.

"Rulie?" He called.

Hyrule turned, and with blood soaking his features, he smiled. "Hey... hey Vet."

"Hey--RULIE!" He dove forward and caught him as he collapsed. "No, no--come on, hold on. You’re not supposed to die before me, that's not how being my successor works."

"I'm sorry," Hyrule breathed softly. "I couldn't save the old man... Had to stop to keep fighting... I'd be surprised if any of them survived at this point."

Legend would be to. He'd also be surprised if either of the two of them survived their wounds, especially since the group had ran out of potions two days ago.

"But..."

He raised his hand to Legend's face and Legend froze as he felt his magic.

"Don’t you--No!" His wounds healed, faster than Hyrule usually could heal which meant-- No. his hand was glowing gold.

Hyrule caught his hand. "I... I choose my path, right? No maps make me do anything."

How dare he use Legend's teases against him?! Now?!

"J-Just make sure my body's burned, kid."

"You're barely a year older than me you jerk! Don't do this!" Legend begged, as if that would change anything.

His body flashed gold and Legend could feel the divinity that always encased his successor fade, the Triforce released from its protector to wherever the goddesses wanted it.

Hyrule was gone.

Legend was unhurt, he realized that as he got up, standing over the whole massacre.

He looked around, monster bodies were finally just about gone... and he could see the bodies of his brothers, all dead... all gone.

How--goddesses how--was he the last man standing?

"I can fix it for you," a voice spoke up from behind him and he spun. He drew his sword out and held it at their throat. "For a price."

Next>>

[appalachiasferaldaughter]

From the Keeper of the Tales

CW: Death, mention of alcohol.

Note: This is a long one. Also, I would like to preface something for my own sake. If you are uninterested, you may skip directly to the tale. It's under the keep reading tab.

I am writing this out because I have recently suffered some terrible heartbreak... which you may have guessed from reading my writings featuring one I call, "Señor." Everything finally came to a head earlier this week and now we are no contact. Although it is an answered prayer because the cycle has finally ended, it still hurts. It hurts so much.

As I heal from this, I am going back through the wisdom I have received from the gods and Landvættir, since hindsight is 20/20. I offer this wisdom to you all as well, given to me by a kind spirit some weeks ago. I hope you may find some benefit. And whatever heartbreak, hardships, or suffering you are currently going through, I am praying that you will find relief. If it's any consolation from a stranger on the internet, Daughters, Sons, and Children: I love you. Please keep going.

ᛉ

In Southern Illinois, there is a state park known as Garden of the Gods. It is a beautiful park with amazing views that you would not expect to find in a state like Illinois. Although it is quite a drive for me (about 1.5 hours), I find myself going there often. It reminds me so much of where my family is from in Appalachia. My most popular writing, a hail to the Spirit of the Mountain and Landvættir, was written for that land. The Landvættir there introduced themselves to me as a herd of deer. I offer them incense whenever I can.

A few weeks ago, I went to the Garden of the Gods to present an offering but also just to connect with the spirits some more. I found a cool, shaded rock that was away from the main touristy crowds and sat down to try and connect with the spirits. Using twigs scattered on the rock, I made the rune of Algiz (ᛉ) and offered the incense.

After a few moments of meditating on Algiz, I heard the Landvættir speak: "Go deeper into the woods." I extinguished the incense and did so. I followed the main hiking trail until I found a not-so-trodden path veering to the left. I went off course (what I thought was off course, I should say) going downhill a good way, until I found a dried up ravine. I followed it to the left some more until I realized it was leading back up and around. I was going in a circle. Okay, cool, I guess. I started to trek back uphill (ugh) until I was stopped dead in my tracks as I came across a rock that was shaped as a human ear.

"Wait and listen," I heard the Landvættir say. It was a beautiful resting area as the sun was waning in the afternoon sky. I lit the incense and offered it to the rock, introducing myself, and asked permission to sit on the boulder in front. I felt acceptance of the sage and permission to do so. So, I sat. And I waited. For what, I wasn't quite sure. All I could gather was this was a place to sit and wait to hear something.

I saw many beautiful things as I sat and waited. There was a Luna Moth that flew and stopped at every tree. Earthly deer herds were making their way through. Crows and birds were singing their songs. Even if nothing was going to happen, it was nice to take a pause and appreciate the beauty of the area. I'm not quite sure how long I sat there before The Keeper of the Tales approached me.

As I was growing stiff and considering getting up to leave, the presence of... a man, perhaps, sat opposite of me. I sat with my back turned to the ear rock and he sat facing it. Startled, I greeted him(? I'm honestly not sure what gender this spirit was or if he even conformed to a binary, but it felt like a masculine presence so for this recounting, I will refer to the spirit as he/him) and he returned the greeting. I shouldn't have been surprised that he already knew my name.

Without warning, after his greeting, he immediately went into a tale of wisdom. Below is a transcription of the tale written to the best of my memory and as I heard and understood it:

In a herd of deer, a doe gave birth to twin fawns. It was a rare occurrence and unexpected, for this doe was in the line of elders that would oversee the protection and sanctity of the herd. Her son would replace the elders who passed on—but there were two! The elders gathered to discuss how they were to handle this situation because it was unprecedented. After much deliberation and council, they decided on the fate of the twins: when they grew up into manhood and their antlers had come in, they would fight each other to the death. The winner would take their rightful place as leader of the herd. The loser would be gored by the other.

When the mother of the twins heard this, she was greatly displeased. Being wise in her own eyes, she decided that she would not prepare the twins for this upcoming battle. She would work hard to keep them from fighting with each other by teaching them to greatly respect and love each other as brothers should. That way, when the time would come for them to fight, they would not. Their lives were not worth the leadership role.

As the twins grew, so did their tempers. As much as the mother of the twins taught them about love, peace, and brotherhood, she could not keep them from fighting amongst each other. It was in their very nature to quarrel, it seemed. Despite their quarrels, the twin brothers still loved and respected each other very much. They carried this within them to the time of their manhood, when their antlers grew in. Their mother still kept their destiny hidden from them until she could hide it no more.

As their antlers grew full, the elders were crossing over. It was time to pass on the leadership to the next generation. It was time for the twins to face their destiny. The remaining elders approached the twins and told them it was time to face each other in battle. The twins were surprised and therefore unprepared for this. Fight my own brother? To the death? Never. They couldn’t possibly do such a thing. But something stirred within their souls—the call of destiny, perhaps? Or their egos? They knew that this had to be done because the herd could not continue without a leader to guide them. Each brother felt that they were fit to take on the title and were willing to fight the other for the sake of the title. But they cursed their mother for keeping this hidden from them for they were both unprepared to take on such a task.

And so, the twins fought. Because neither had a chance to train, to prepare, to seek council for this tournament, one was not able to overpower the other. Their antlers remained twisted, tangled amongst each other. They were deadlocked. Their power was equal as if of one buck. They remained this way for seven days and seven nights, until, finally, they both collapsed from exhaustion and died. Their mother failed to prepare a winner for their destined encounter and so the herd was leaderless—much to their detriment. The remaining elders were also unprepared, for they expected a leader to rise from the quarrel, but they died without passing their heritage to the next generation. Therefore, the herd was scattered, to each their own and without the protection of all.

Well, that was depressing.

The spirit must have known my questioning of why this tale was spoken and so he turned and asked me, "What is your interpretation of this tale?" I sat there for a moment in silence, processing what I just heard. Immediately, my human mind wanted to question the plot holes, the nihilistic and pessimistic worldview, and why this has anything to do with me.

I replied, "Well, the mother took away the twin's opportunity to prepare for their fated encounter," I began thinking aloud, "The elders could have come up with a different solution–surely, there could be two rulers. I mean, there were multiple elders! And the twins could have chosen not to fight. They could have let the herd break apart while they saved themselves. There were so many different ways to handle this."

"Of course, how can one truly prepare for what they will face in this life?" The spirit asked, "Is wisdom gained through knowledge or experience?"

"Both," I responded. "Right? It has to be both."

"Is what you experience the same as somebody else?" he asked. "Would two people who have the same knowledge but different life experiences be prepared to do the exact same thing with the exact same enthusiasm?"

I didn't respond. It felt as if the spirit took a deep breath in, and then said, "You appear to have a lot of experiences you were not prepared for. You've also encountered people who have judged you harshly for handling the situations the way that you have..." another inhale, "and will. They are aware but not experienced in the same way you are. My dear, knowledge is knowing that alcohol can be deadly, and those who abuse it can wreak great havoc on those around them. Wisdom is understanding why the alcohol is being abused to begin with as you, yourself, stare down the neck of the bottle."

I felt my lip quiver but held back the onslaught of emotions coming through. "Sir, what is your point?"

I couldn't see his physical form, but I could feel his smile as he said, "My point is sometimes, there is no right or wrong answer. Only what is, and we won't know until we're in the moment itself what is right and what is wrong. What is right for you could be wrong for the other person... in the moment."

"So, what we feel is right could change as we gain wisdom?" I asked. I felt a hand grip my shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "Sir, what is your name?"

"You can call me The Keeper of the Tales."

"...Thank you."

And with that, the presence left me. I sat there for a minute longer on my own, digesting the experience. Then, I thanked the rock, the Landvættir for guiding me to that place, and then I continued upward and back toward humanity.

ᛉ

You have made it to the end.

[talonslockau]

Fire and Ice - Chapter 45

Chapter 44 || Index || Chapter 46

 By the time Fireheart woke up, it was somewhere close to late day, the sun well past its height and heading towards the horizon. The storm had long since left, the clouds parting to reveal the blue skies beyond. Graystripe still slumbered, so he carefully crept out of the den and into camp to avoid waking him.

The Clan was hard at work repairing camp. Most of the cats he could see had cobwebs covering one or several injuries, and his own pelt stung with several claw marks, though he didn't remember where he had gotten them. Those with injured legs were working on the camp wall, while those with other wounds were likely out patrolling or hunting.

He saw Snowkit playing alone in one corner of camp, Speckleflight watching him carefully. After the morning's scare, he couldn't blame her. The elders were sharing tongues, no doubt immortalizing Brokentail's reign in their stories. Everything was peaceful for a change.

"Fireheart!" He turned to see Yellowfang crossing camp towards him. "You're finally awake. I'm running out of marigold and I need some extra paws to help me carry it." There was a glint in her dark eyes, and he knew he couldn't refuse her; not if he wanted to keep her on his side.

"Of course! I'd be glad to." He responded quickly. "Actually, are Dewpaw and Peppermask available? The more paws the better, after all." He pointed out steadily.

"Hmm. I don't know if we'll need that much." The old molly squinted at him for a moment, scrutinizing his intentions. "But maybe you're right. Leafbare is coming, after all. Fine. I'll go fetch my apprentice." The thick-furred healer turned and headed back towards her den, leaving Fireheart to find the warrior molly. After a moment he spotted her, working on the nursery with Cinderpaw.

"Peppermask!" He trotted towards her swiftly. "Yellowfang wants us to help her fetch some herbs. Can you come?"

The spotted tabby looked up as he spoke, blinking a greeting as he stopped in front of her. "Are you sure Cinderpaw wouldn't be better? She's quite energetic."

"Yes, please!" The sole apprentice begged, her eyes wide as she abandoned her bramble weaving. "I've been stuck in camp weaving brambles all day. I'm sick of it!"

"No offense, Cinderpaw, but I think Yellowfang would sooner drown you than listen to you the whole time." He shook his head sadly. "Besides, she asked for Peppermask specifically."

"Aw, mousedung." The apprentice grumbled, returning back to her work with a sigh. "Well, you two warriors have fun without me."

He winced at her words. "I'm sure you'll get your chance soon." He replied, turning away from her. He wasn't entirely sure what would happen then. Snowkit was close to being apprenticed, he supposed, but it would be moons until Goldenflower's kits were ready. "Anyways, let's hurry. You know Yellowfang doesn't like to be kept waiting."

They met with the two healers at the entrance to camp. "You found her? Good. Let's get going." With a lash of her tail, she led the other three out of camp and up the ravine.

They traveled silently, towards the Twolegplace, until they found a clearing of bright yellow flowers. Many of them were soaked by the morning's rainstorm, and several had been squashed by fallen branches. 

Still, there was plenty to gather, and Dewpaw immediately began doing so as Yellowfang turned to Fireheart. "So why did you lie about Ravenspirit?"

"What?" Peppermask bristled beside him. "What're you talking about?"

"Fireheart didn't get attacked by Brokentail on the border. None of us did. And I certainly didn't bury anyone." Yellowfang replied sourly, her nose wrinkled in disapproval. "So? Out with it!"

"He-" The spotted molly turned to him. "That's why you insisted on me, isn't it? Something happened with Ravenspirit." She tilted her head as she studied him. "Does it have to do with-"

"Tigerclaw was planning to kill him." Fireheart interrupted her before she could finish. "He outright said as much to him at the Moonstone. If he had stayed, he would have died."

"So he's alive then." He turned his ears to listen as Dewpaw spoke from where she was carefully stripping flowerheads. "That's good. I… I was worried I helped send him to his death."

"Hold on." Yellowfang interrupted incredulously. "Tigerclaw was planning to kill his own son?"

Fireheart stared at her. "Yea, because of Redtail." He explained hurriedly. "I thought you knew all this."

"Redtail?" Her copper eyes were baffled as she stared back at him. "What are you talking about?"

"The night Dewpaw was made a healer apprentice, you told me to keep quiet about it!" He responded, equally confused. What else could she have been talking about? "We were talking about Redtail, and then you said-"

"I was talking about the prophecy! You were going to blurt it out to the whole Clan!" Her fur bristled angrily. "I don't know what you're talking about with Redtail."

"What prophecy?"

"You mean you don't-" She caught herself after a moment and let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, Starclan."

All four of them looked at each other in confusion. "What prophecy?" Fireheart repeated. What was she talking about? He'd never heard of any sort of prophecy in his life.

"I honestly thought you knew. That's why you attacked Brokentail, is it not?"

"I attacked Brokentail because he was going to kill you!" The ginger tom shook his head in disbelief. "So you had no idea why Redtail was showing up?"

"No!" Yellowfang sat down, staring at him as myriad emotions swirled through her eyes. "Starclan above, that changes things."

"Maybe a little!" Fireheart turned his gaze over to the two sisters. "What prophecy? What even is a prophecy, anyways? Like, I've heard it in the elders’ stories, but an actual-"

"Sometimes Starclan speaks to us outside the Moonstone." Dewpaw cut in before he could stick his paw in his mouth. "They only do so when there's grave danger coming. Those are prophecies. They're very rare, though. Spottedleaf told me when I was a kit that the last one she received was about Bluestar." Her tail drooped at the mention of her mentor. He didn't blame her; though it seemed like ages ago, the healer had only died that morning. She hadn't had time to process her grief.

"Yes, that's correct." Yellowfang's gaze stared out into the forest. "Goosefeather was notorious for spouting them. Whether Starclan actually spoke to him or not, I cannot say." 

"Okay. So there was a prophecy about, what? Brokentail? I guess that makes sense." He had certainly pulled Starclan's attention, after all. Breaking the warrior code left and right, killing cats by the clawful - no wonder they thought the Clans were in grave danger.

"I suppose there's no point in hiding it, since it's been fulfilled." The dark gray healer finally looked back at him. "Fireheart, the prophecy was about you."

"Me?" He bristled in shock. "But why? I'm barely a warrior!" 

"You're more than that, in Starclan's eyes." She replied steadily, her eyes clearer now. "Fire alone can save our Clan. I received it less than a moon after Raggedstar's death. Brokentail had already begun pulling the Clan away from the warrior code when he assigned Badgerkit to be Spiderfoot's apprentice at three moons old. I knew Shadowclan was in danger."

Fireheart blinked, shock washing over him. He had heard that phrase before, when he had spoken to Redtail. But why would Redtail care about Shadowclan's problems? "So they knew that I would attack Brokentail?" He scoffed at that. "So what? It wasn't that big a deal. Someone else would have done it if I hadn't."

"I didn't know what it meant for a while." Yellowfang admitted. "I thought perhaps it was referring to a Shadowclanner, but I didn't know who. It wasn't until I was attacked by a young tom named Firepaw in Thunderclan territory that I began to understand."

"You're still holding that against me? I've apologized a dozen times!" Fireheart spat crossly. "If I could go back and undo it, I would!"

"But if you hadn't, we would have passed through your territory unnoticed. We may never have returned to the Clans." The old healer replied, her voice steady and clear as she spoke. "It was you who rescued Mosspaw and Volepaw and swayed Thunderclan's mind. And it was you that led the charge to chase out Brokentail, in the end." She shook her broad head with a soft smile. "Starclan was right. Fire saved Shadowclan from Brokentail."

"But- That's-" He frowned. He was an ordinary apprentice! At the time it was given, he had barely been accepted into Thunderclan - if he had even been part of the Clan at all! Why would Starclan pay attention to a lousy kittypet? He kneaded his claws in and out, not sure how to explain his disbelief.

"Starclan works in mysterious ways." The dark molly shrugged. "It is not up to us to know how they think. We can only interpret what they tell us."

"Can we go back to Ravenspirit being alive? And how Tigerclaw was about to kill him?" Peppermask interrupted them, her green eyes narrow as she stared at him. 

"I just told the Clan that so Tigerclaw doesn't try to find him." Fireheart explained quickly. "And even if he does find out Ravenspirit lives, he's far enough away that Tigerclaw won't come after him."

"Why does Tigerclaw want his son dead so badly?" Yellowfang interjected, shock creeping back into her eyes. "And what does that have to do with Redtail?"

"Tigerclaw killed Redtail because he wanted to be deputy instead, and Ravenspirit saw it." The new warrior told the clueless healer, trying to catch her up on the sordid events of recent moons quickly. "Ever since then, Redtail's been haunting us to do something about Tigerclaw and get revenge for him."

"Also, we were all apprentices when we found this out, and we didn't think Bluestar would believe us." Peppermask's green eyes were blazing as she glared at him. "And now that we're warriors and maybe earned her trust, you've gone and gotten rid of the only evidence we had!"

"We had to keep him safe!" Fireheart retorted. "Tigerclaw was actively plotting to murder him with Darkstripe. I overheard it right before we left for the Moonstone. We couldn't keep an eye on him all the time!"

"Yeah, but now what are we supposed to do? Tell Bluestar that the Clan's top warrior is a secret traitor, just trust us on that though?" She shook her head angrily, her tail lashing. "Now we're stuck in the same situation we were before!"

"There's got to be some other evidence. And Ravenspirit isn't even that far away." He huffed angrily back at her. "We'll figure it out. You're the smartest out of all of us, I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Yeah, but-" She broke off in a snarl, turning away from him. "Toms!" She spat out as she began pacing in a circle.

Yellowfang was watching and listening to their debate stoically, though he could tell her thoughts were racing. "And what about Redtail?" She asked. "You said he shows up in your dreams?"

"No, he shows up around here. Like he did in the healer's den, with Spottedleaf." He wished he could make the dead deputy show up and just explain things to Bluestar, but of course it could never be that easy. "Apparently he used to talk to Ravenspirit, when we were still apprentices, but now he mostly shows up behind my shoulder all threateningly."

"You don't say." Yellowfang responded dryly. "I never would have guessed."

He blinked in surprise at her tone as she spoke, before noticing her gaze staring past him. This time, when he turned around, he spotted Redtail staring at them from behind a tree, nearly blending into it with his tabby coat. Peppermask bristled beside him, while Dewpaw continued silently stripping flowers as she stared stoically at the ghostly tom.

"Redtail!" He snapped. "Why don't you come out and explain all this to Yellowfang, huh? Or better yet, Bluestar herself?" He took a step towards the calico tom. "Maybe actually help us get your revenge instead of spooking everyone for a change?"

As soon as he moved closer, the tom jumped away with a flash of his namesake tail, vanishing among the leaffall leaves. Fireheart knew better than to try chasing him. He could disappear into nothingness at any moment, so what was the point?

He sighed and turned back to Yellowfang. "I think that's about everything. Sorry that Thunderclan isn't the perfect Clan it appears to be."

"I knew that from the moment you broke my leg." The healer smirked as he groaned at the mention of his worst mistake. "But I certainly believe you. Stranger things have happened in the forest before, though it was usually when Goosefeather was involved." She sighed and shook her head bemusedly.

"So now that everything's out in the open, what do we do?" Fireheart asked the other three. "Ravenspirit might be able to return and speak up against Tigerclaw, but Peppermask is right. We should try and figure out some other form of evidence."

"If you want my advice, you've all done quite enough for the time being." He perked one orange ear towards Yellowfang as she spoke. "You've thwarted his plotting for now. I might be able to persuade Bluestar there's more to Tigerclaw than it seems, but that will take time, perhaps a few trips to the Moonstone." She shook her wide head slowly. "The best warriors know when to wait patiently."

Peppermask hesitated. "But- what if he goes after our dad? What's to stop him from killing another deputy?"

Fireheart grimaced at her questions. He had to admit she was right; now that Ravenspirit was out of the way, the dark tabby would see no more obstacles to his next victim.

"He has three warriors and both healers to protect him. I'm sure Redtail is watching over him as well." The old healer pointed out steadily. "They claim prey runs over the paws of those who wait. Perhaps Tigerclaw will do the same."

The spotted warrior didn't seem quite convinced, but nodded in agreement. "Very well. Waiting it is."

"How's that marigold coming, Dewpaw?" Yellowfang asked as she stood up and stretched. "We should probably be getting back. The vigils will be starting soon."

The healer's apprentice pushed a pile of bright yellow flowers towards them. "This should be enough for the whole season, if we're lucky." She remarked in her typical quiet voice. "Be careful picking them up. The more juice you can preserve, the better."

They each carefully collected a mouthful of the marigold, trying not to squeeze it too tightly as Dewpaw had requested. It was a slow walk back to camp, and by the time they entered camp the sun had almost set. Fireheart hurriedly deposited the flowers on the healer's stone workspace before rushing back out to see Graystripe exiting the warriors' den with a ferocious yawn.

"Fireheart!" The gray tom hurried over to greet his fellow warrior. "Dad woke me up. He said it's almost time for our vigil." 

"And the vigil for Spottedleaf and Ravenspirit." He looked to see Dappleshine emerge from the healer's den, followed by Yellowfang carrying Spottedleaf's body and Dewpaw behind her. Shortly after, Dustleap, Speckleflight and Sandstorm came out from the shadows to sit nearby. Ravenspirit's half-siblings and second adoptive mother, alongside Dappleshine, so it made sense they would all come to mourn the 'fallen' warrior. They sat in the middle of camp, a respectful distance from Spottedleaf, presumably sitting vigil for Ravenspirit even though they had no body.

"There you two are." It was Bluestar, deftly avoiding the mourners to speak to her two newest warriors. "It is time for you both to sit vigil until dawn. All cats in camp will be putting their lives in your paws, including those mourning the fallen." She stared at both of them sternly. "I expect I don't have to remind you two how important this night of listening is."

Fireheart shook his head quickly, and he could sense Graystripe beside him do the same. "Good. Go on, then." She flicked her tail to dismiss them, then turned and padded over to Spottedleaf's body. Of course she would mourn the calico; Spottedleaf had served as healer beside her for a long time. It was understandable she would want to see her off on the Startrail.

Fireheart padded over to sit beside the entrance to camp. Graystripe took a spot near the nursery, flicking an ear at what he assumed was the mewling of several kits inside. They met each other's gazes from across camp and nodded solemnly before looking back out over their home. 

Their vigil had begun.

[arts-and-drafts]

Burned (Double Life)

(Scar confronts Grian about some rumors and learns something he maybe already knew. This takes place a little after episode 2 but before episode 3. I wrote this when I was emotionally out of sorts so take it how you will, I didn't put the usual amount of effort into it lol)

CW: Death mentions

-

"So, you...said you wanted to talk about something?" Grian asked, his wariness mostly for show as he clambered up a few blocks to stand by Scar, who was overlooking the cliff. To be quite honest, Grian was expecting something about the Jellie-pandas again when Scar asked to speak with him, and he was not about to budge on that, which was sure to make an interesting conversation.

And so, Grian was completely caught off guard when Scar plainly asked "Do you want to be my soulmate?"

"Wh--sorry?" Grian stammered, his feathers thoroughly ruffled.

"Do you want to be my soulmate." Scar reiterated, as if he was chatting about the tick rate. "I've been talking with Bdubs--" Grian groaned internally, "and he said to watch out for you. Like you'd hurt me."

Grian was definitely not prepared for this conversation. He didn't expect it to happen at all, quite frankly, with how oblivious Scar just...was. So he admitted that he'd gotten a bit careless with letting his true feelings about the whole "soulmate" ordeal show, mainly because it only really served as a way to make his fellow participants laugh at his misery.

He didn't expect Scar to notice.

But notice he must have done, because here Grian was and here was Scar, now looking up at him with an unreadable expression.

"Hurting you hurts me too, Scar." Grian replied carefully. "Why would I do that?"

"Scott did." Scar pointed out, tilting his head towards the bridge across the ravine. "He didn't care about his soulmate at all."

"I'm not Scott." Grian interjected, maybe a little too forcefully. Scar raised his eyebrows like he did when he spotted an opportunity for a deal, but without his usual accompanied smile, it turned out very off-putting. Like he saw right through Grian's act. "And plus, so did you. You jumped in a powdered snow bucket just for a laugh."

Scar hummed thoughtfully at that, and finally turned away. "That's true."

Grian thought he'd caught Scar out, and then of course the man he was bound to pulled the rug out from under him yet again.

"I still want you, though."

Heat rose up Grian's neck. "What--you--"

"I don't mind that we're soulmates." Scar breezed right along, as if he had not just accomplished the very rare feat of rendering Grian speechless. "It's kinda fun, you know? I thought it was light-hearted, like in the desert."

Grian's throat closed up on him as he remembered the final moments of that world, of sand turned as red as his hands, choking him with the stench of what remained of Scar and their silly little castle after everything was over.

"Scar--"

"I didn't think it was, like, mean. I didn't think it was cruel, Grian, I'm not a cruel man." Honey-tongued. That was the word for the way Scar's voice was pitched, now. Laying it on thick like he did when he was trying to appear innocent of shenanigans, but entirely without the playful undertone.

"Scar, I didn't--it's not--"

"It's okay." Scar looked him in the eyes this time, and he was smiling. It didn't reach his eyes like it used to.

"I heard Bdubs and Impulse got a golden apple." Scar said casually, like he didn't just make Grian's breath freeze in his lungs at the statement. "And they're very happy, you know they won't use it. I'm sure we can buy it off them for this diamond horse armor--"

"Stop it!" Grian yelled, his voice an octave too high. He didn't realize he'd grabbed Scar until the man looked at his hand around his arm in surprise, but he didn't pull away.

"Scar, I don't want to break the bond." Grian tried his best to mentally communicate it with how hard he was staring into Scar's forest eyes. "I don't--Scar, of course I don't want to be your soulmate, but that doesn't mean I don't want you."

Scar just merely stared at him after that. Grian felt pressured to keep going the longer the silence stretched on.

"You're my friend, Scar. I kept basing with you in the very beginning because I really do like your company." Grian said, before he paused.

"What I said before, it...I want to live, I want to win. Being bound to you, it--come on, you must understand how nerve wracking that is."

Scar's expression violently flickered, and Grian quickly backtracked.

"Not that you're not doing a good job! I'm actually impressed with how long we've been green this time! It's just--I mean, it's not your fault, Scar, you can't help it." Grian sighed. "I'd feel like this if it were anyone else with your track record. It's not--it's not personal."

"How can it not be personal?" Scar exclaimed, the first time he'd shown an emotion other than pretend indifference during this whole conversation. "Grian, you just said that you don't want to be my soulmate because I might kill you!"

And he pulled out of Grian's grip, and Grian knew he'd messed up somewhere along the way.

"I can get the forbidden fruit, Grian. You don't need to worry about dying anymore." Scar said, bitterness tinged with sorrow weighing down his words. "You said it yourself. The only reason you're looking out for me is because we share our lives."

"Scar," Grian tried hopelessly, his stomach plummeting at how the situation went so wrong so quickly.

His soulmate brushed right past him. "I'll be back soon."

Scar paused at the treeline, and Grian held his breath. Hoping. Desperate for a change of heart, even though he wanted it too.

"Make sure Tango doesn't set the Jellies on fire while I'm gone."

Scar didn't even look back.

END.

[solomonish]

breathe deep, breathe clear, and know that i'm here (solomon x reader)

When the tendrils of doubt start to wrap around you, how do you battle them when your new state of existence is entirely unknown?

ao3 link here!

CW: F!MC

When Solomon finally found her stumbling through the enchanted woods in a daze, he considered scooping her up in his arms and carrying her out of the forest, never to return. Every second spent away from her sent a sharp fear through his chest. Immortal as she was, she was not indestructible, and the creatures inhabiting the woods could be unexpectedly dangerous. Even with the experiences she's had with magic, there was so much she didn't know - there was so much ignorance that could still kill her.

Instead, he settled for running to her and holding her close, tucking her into himself tightly as if trying to force their bodies to meld. He could feel her tense, then relax, tremors taking over that he knew better than to comment on. As her shoulders heaved, Solomon couldn't tell if they were sobs or gasps for breath, but he rubbed her back soothingly anyway. Eventually, her hands weakly found purchase in the back of his shirt, and he placed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head.

Solomon didn't pull back until he was absolutely sure she had calmed down, and even then he took her hands in his and rubbed his thumb over Lucifer's ring. She was here, and as long as it was still on, everything was fine. Everything was fine.

Except everything was not fine. She insisted on staying in the woods until Solomon found the roots he was looking for, even after his protests and offers to leave. They walked hand-in-hand until nightfall, slowly traversing the uneven ground and looking for the small, purple flowers that marked their targets. They prepared to leave the forest with a sizable bundle of the plants, and as they crossed the final bridge, Solomon noticed MC stop and stare out over the ravine. The long shadows cast seemed to swirl with the unnatural fog settled within the cliffsides, so dark even the full moon couldn't permeate it. As silent tears streamed down her cheeks, he noticed those that fell, could.

"When will you get tired of me?" She asked, her voice small and shaking. The way she watched the fig beneath her, Solomon wondered if she thought it would swallow her whole, or maybe even hoped it would.

"What do you mean?" Tentatively, he inched closer to her. The simple suspension bridge swayed with his movement, but she didn't seem to mind.

"How many things have you gotten bored of before? How many pacts do you no longer call upon? Even some magic can't capture your attention sometimes." The sadness in her tone was palpable the more she spoke, eventually straining her voice so she could hardly push the words out. Solomon had heard pain in the voices of many, but it never hurt as much as it did to hear from her. 

Telling her how many of his pacts were one-time necessities or formed more as an impulse for more power seemed in poor taste. How many of his pacts did he make, knowing he wouldn't need them? How many demons were tethered to him, knowing they would never be called on by him again yet having to be ready just in case? Swallowing past the lump growing in his throat, he kept the questions to himself lest she think he'd ever string her along in the same way.

Of course she'd imagine magic to be boring for him when he's spent so long studying it. Even the more complicated, dazzling spells were familiar to him. But magic was ever-changing, and he was always finding something new about it to explore. Besides, he could never grow bored of magic when she was around to excite him.

Solomon didn't know how to articulate his thoughts. He just knew that he loved her, and he loved her so deeply it hurt. With still nothing coming to mind, he stayed silent. Oh, how he wished he had said something, anything to get her mind off of her own thoughts, just to share himself the heartache of hearing what she had to say. When she opened her mouth, she spoke with more conviction, looking up at him with wide, wet eyes and yet not a quiver in her voice.

"I can't think of anything I have that'll get you to want to stay."

The breath in Solomon's throat hitched for a moment. With her eyes searching his, he felt something like a criminal, knowing he had done something wrong and forced to wait for a punishment he knew would be inevitable. His silence seemed the trial, and after a moment, her face fell and she looked away. Caught between wanting to bring her gaze back to him so he could repent and not wanting to see her desolate face, Solomon only stood in place dumbly.

Giving a bitter laugh, she shrugged as if she could shake off her burdens. "I mean, you shouldn't have to pick up everyone else's discarded pieces. And against angels and demons, and even other sorcerers, I really don't compare."

Hadn't he thought something similar? During the exchange program, when he realized he was one of what seemed like a thousand people competing for her affections, he thought he knew how it would play out. He wasn't a demon, who's hulking form, unnatural charm and eerie good looks could haunt her for her entire life. He wasn't an angel that could offer her paradise and unquestionable love. All he was was barely human, the only pieces of himself she could ever like hidden behind centuries of masks and non-answers. 

When she chose him, took his hand proudly in front of all the brothers and defended her choice, he thought for sure his starstruck face and the brothers' envious stares were enough to drive home how intensely her attention was sought after. But to hear her worry over the same things - to wonder if she was replaceable when he was the one with ten people lining up behind him, ten people he knew would never let her go - was enough to force his heart to crack right down the middle.

"I'm not built for immortality, Solomon." Looking down, she fiddled with the ring on her finger as two teardrops fell on the back of her hand. He could hear despair gripping her, and he felt powerless to battle it away. "I don't want to do this alone."

Finally, he felt he could move and he took her in his arms again, holding her close to him protectively. Though he knew it to be impossible, he hoped he could block any more doubts from finding their way to her, as if his arms alone could be a shield. As he looked over her shoulder, he saw the many spirits weaving between the trees, curiously watching the intruders on their home from behind the branches. He swore he saw something else behind a trunk, watching with satisfaction as MC shook in his arms - though he had half a mind to charge forward and destroy it for daring to take pleasure in her pain, not a fiber in his being wanted to separate himself from her. Instead, he shut his eyes and buried his face in her hair, rubbing her back in an attempt at soothing her. 

"You won't be alone," he promised as the more important words got caught in his throat. 

Solomon understood her fear and the creeping feeling of being replaceable. It was only natural when you thought you had to live on such a short time limit. Time felt limited, like there was none to spare for falling in love or mourning the loss of anyone. He understood feeling as if he had to scramble from person to person in fear the time may slip away, and he knew how it felt to worry others may do that to you. He had 72 pacts and a collection of scorned lovers to prove it.

People were not replaceable, and they were never boring. Each person Solomon has ever loved has remained trapped in his heart, and humans had a desire to remember every person they've ever loved even beyond their years on earth. He wasn't sure how to tell her that she would never grow boring to him - that she would continue to evolve, because the very nature of her human being didn't change with her immortality. It was a fact he found difficult to accept himself, but people evolved continuously, even after a thousand years. Those who only live out their typical lifespan just don't have enough time to see it.

But his own stagnation compared to the world made him yearn for something, anything that might stay. MC wasn't entirely unfounded in her fears; the world would leave her behind, family and friends would be ripped from her and she'd have eternity to grapple with the pain. But Solomon knew he could never leave her - that even if she did die, he would carry her with him for eternity 

MC was everything he could ever think to hope for. It would just take time for her to figure it out, and they both had all the time in the world. He would stick by her side while she sorted things out, and he would stay there for the rest of time after. But for now, he held her tightly, hoping it was enough of a signal that he was here to stay.

[alloftheimagines]

billy hargrove | heaven-sent | part eight

masterlist | series | part seven

words: 1.2k

warnings: supernatural, mentions of illness and death, panic attack, angst, swearing, alcohol, smoking

summary:  she’s an angel. he may as well be the devil. one would not exist without the other.

Any hope that Hopper is in the trailer is lost as soon as Frances and Billy reach the drive. It's empty, the way Frances had left it this morning. For a moment, she's glad: her anger and confusion has turned to a jagged hurt that rips through her stomach and chest each time she breathes.

She's adopted. From a lab. Everything she thought she knew is gone.

Billy is sober enough to walk himself up the steps onto the porch, though he grabs the wooden railing for support as he waits for her to unlock the door. She does, holding it open for him before she follows him in silently.

She places the keys down on the counter, sighing and scraping her hand through her hair. She has no idea what to do now. She just hopes to God that wherever he is, El is there, too.

She runs the tap to busy her hands, filling a glass with water and handing it to Billy. "Here. Drink this."

Billy must be able to sense her foul mood because he doesn't argue, taking a few big gulps before putting it down and looking at her.

"You didn't have to do all this for me."

"It's nothing," she replies, biting her nails distractedly. "You can sleep it off in my room. Come on."

He follows her into her bedroom, a tiny box room with a single bed. The walls are covered in pictures she's taken over the years, starting with a toothless, five-year-old Will Byers and ending with a sunset over the ravine. Her clothes are scattered around the floor, and she rushes to pick them up, trying not to blush at the fact that her bra is among the pile.

When she turns around, she realises that Billy isn't even looking. His attention is on an old photo of she and Sarah, the one she keeps on her desk. It's one of the last ones they took together — her last real good day, just after her diagnosis, when their parents took them to Coney Island. Sarah's hair hasn't yet fallen out from the chemo, and nobody who didn't already know her would be able to tell she was sick. She had fun that day. So did Frances.

"This you?" Billy questions, his thumb running over Frances's eleven-year-old face.

"Yeah," Frances whispers, pulling the photo from his hands and putting it back quickly. It's too late, though: he asks a moment later.

"Who's the kid?"

Frances inhales shakily, unable to meet his gaze. "My sister." She wonders as she says it if she even has a right to call her that now: all those years spent believing they were 50% of one another, and it was a lie.

"Where is she now? With your mom?"

"Gone," Frances says, shoulders burning and eyes stinging with more tears. She is sick of crying. "She's gone."

Suddenly, she can hear a thumping, constant pulse. Another one joins in a moment later, the sound consuming her so that she has to grip onto her dresser for support.

"Fran?" Billy asks, concern in his voice. He's talking too loud and it hurts her ears. His hands find her shoulders, and a pain shoots through her in protest so that she has to move away.

Her chest is constricting, her breathing laboured as she tries to ground her feet on the carpeted floor again. Her head is throbbing, and even though she can't see them, she is sure it's happening again, this time worse: her eyes are changing.

"Fran? You okay?" Billy asks again. "Fran? Shit. Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't know—"

"Just shut up," she demands through gritted teeth, glancing at him for only a second.

A second is all he needs to see. He stumbles backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed. "Fuck, Fran. Your eyes."

She squeezed them shut, collapsing to the floor and gripping onto her dresser as though it's the only thing keeping her from falling through the ground and soil beneath. "I don't know what's wrong with me." Her voice doesn't sound like her own, distorted, echoing.

"Do I call an ambulance?" Billy asks desperately.

"No!" Frances shouts. Her entire body is trembling.

Billy is knelt in front of her now, his eyes wide in fear. She can't look at him, can't open her eyes at all. She's scared of what will happen if she lets him see again.

"Tell me what to do," he begs. "Tell me how to help."

She shakes her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. The two pulses have sped up frantically and she can't help but wince at his deep voice in her sensitive ears.

"Fran," he whispers. "Frances, listen to me. You're okay. You're gonna be okay."

His hand finds her knee, and this time she doesn't pull away as he traces soft lines across the bones jutting out. His voice is quietening again, and so are the heartbeats.

"I don't know what's wrong with me." The sob falls out of her without permission, forcing her eyes open.

"It's okay. Your eyes—They're back to normal, see?"

The pain is easing in her shoulders and chest. She bites down on her lip to stop it from trembling, her fingernails clawing the carpet when she no longer as the strength to grip the dresser. When she finally has the courage to look at Billy, he shuffles closer, leaning over to tuck her hair behind her ears.

"You're okay."

"No," she says. "No, I'm fucking not. Look at me. I'm— I don't even know. I don't know, Billy."

He knows there's nothing he can say to this. She sees it in the way he sighs in defeat and pulls himself against the dresser so that they're sitting side by side. He puts his arm over her shoulder cautiously, pulling her into his chest when she doesn't pull away. The smell of cigarettes and whiskey stings her nostrils, and yet still it calms her as her tears soak into his shirt.

"You a werewolf or somethin', angel?" he mumbles into her hair, only half-joking.

She closes her eyes, knowing that if she moves from his arms now she'll have to look at him again and figure this out. "When's the next full moon?"

His low chuckle hums through him and into her bones. "You gonna tell me what's going on?"

"I don't know how," she whispers, her voice hoarse. "I ... I found adoption papers this morning with my name on them. Hopper isn't my real dad and I had no idea. He never thought to tell me."

"Jesus."

"I don't know who I am. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know what to do. What am I supposed to do?"

"Shit," he says, just like he did when she told him about Barb. Only this time, he didn't feel unreachable, out of touch. Now he was holding her, his fingers running through her hair, her hands in his lap. Now they are tangled up together and she never wants to untangle. "Shit, Fran, I'm sorry."

For the first time, she pulls away to look up at him. "Aren't you afraid of me?"

His expression softens as his rough hand cups her damp cheek. "No, I'm not afraid of you."

"But what you saw ... What I did to you last night."

"I've seen monsters, Fran," he mutters. "Hell, I live with one. You're not one of them. Trust me."

"What if you're wrong?"

He smirks, but not in his usual, arrogant way. This is gentle, caring, warm. "I pride myself on always being right."

She sinks back into him. It is hours before she resurfaces again.

part nine

[queenie435]

Saturday,

I woke up early and without a word to the vampire I left the house. I was heading to a close friends home of mine. He invited me to stay for the rest of the weekend after hearing about my difficult evening the previous night.

Something heavy on my shoulders it seened, I reluctantly made the hour drive. More than anything I wanted to be a hermit that day. Lay around and wallow in my self pity. Allow some rebuttal maybe. If anything though, I've learned to keep moving on those days. Fight back..

Within a half hour on the road I was already feeling somewhat better. Energy returning where I thought was none.

We planned for a hike that afternoon and I dropped my son off at Grandpas before we started.

The woods as always were beautiful. Suprisingly warm. Sunshine swept through the ravines. Looking up, smiling as it Twinkled through the tree branches at us. Signs of spring were popping up all around us as we pushed into the forest.

I love nature. I pray each time I go that she still loves me.

In certain spots we'd sit quietly for long periods of time. I loved it that my friend refrained from asking me anything more than if I was thirsty from time to time.

We just walked, walked about for most of the afternoon.

Along the way He showed me a couple new crystals he had recently picked up. One stuck out to me. It was a beautiful piece, A crystal quartz tower. Almost flawless but a few small clouds in the center.

I held onto it for most of the hike.

As we grounded, Gaia revealed some extra gifts to us that afternoon. Some Dryad saddles, ramps and fiddle heads that paired nicely with our grilled chicken that evening for dinner.

His wife went to bed early and we quietly talked in his sun room/fireplace room for a long while. One white candle dimly lit the room between us.

As we talked, I couldnt help but notice the return of that heavy unsettling feeling. To the pit of my chest. Uneasy, unsettled, energy stuck. Then flash memories of the verbal argument the night before with my girlfriend would sneak up like a cold knife in the side. I'd wince at the pain.

I was so sharp and hurtful with my tongue. We've been together for years. I've never spoken that way ti her.

Dissapointed in myself for losing my control. The control I kept so well, so fortified I thought for years now. A strength I took pride in. To prideful in my strengths I thought... Always a harsh lesson.

As the pressure built, I lost track of my friends conversation. He tends to enjoy himself talking anyways.

I needed to take a trip inside to investigate what it was that was crushing me so harshly. Grinding away at one side of my skull slowly it felt. Depositing negative thoughts and feelings. Sapping my energy.

As I attempted to feel for what it was, take time to let it kill me if it needed to. I naturally reached into my pocket for a crystal to hold. To help me work.

My left hand felt around, I was happy for that moment to remember the quartz tower my friend let me hold for the hike.

Now, as I raised it to the candle light. Tower pointing up, I let the candle light dance to me through the flat sides. I found a side that gave me goosebumps

as I gazed. A bliss washed over me almost instantly.

Through the clarity of the quartz, slowly appearing, etheric golden wheels like cogs started forming inside. Like if you were opening up and peering into the innards of the swiss watchmakers finest watch. I was amazed! My mind was clear again! So clear, so blissful.

Surprised, I broke my concentration. Put the crystal back into my lap and slowly the bliss faded. My friend still talking quietly to himself stopped mid-sentence.

He asked me "Wtf was that?? I asked him to explain, what??.

I knew He felt the bliss too. But wanted to hear him say it.

He said he's never felt so good.

I asked him to watch quietly.

I repeated the crystal gaze.

The golden gears started to appear again.

Bliss washed over us both. This time, I sat for over an hour transfixed on the beauty revealing itself to me through the crystal. The crystaline shield around us now slowly increasing in size. My friend, I didn't realize at first, but He started channeling to me with his eyes closed. Telling me the size and design of the shield from a birds eye view. The architecture was crystalline mixed with Roman/Greek esque pillars. I saw it inside the crystal, he saw it around us. Beautiful he kept saying, try to push it larger.

After some time passed, my energy increasing with the strength of the shield. He told me that there were shadow entities trying to peer in from just beyond the shield. Slender men he described them. Tall, they'd stretch taller and taller to peer in. He knew they couldn't get in, nor see us clearly. They would slink down and are circling us he would say amused.

I broke concentration to take a peak out into the backyard. A tall shadow went zipping across the back deck, very quickly, went about 50 ft and dissapears through the back wall of the garage. Things inside the garage actuallycrashed loud enough to wake his two dogs. They ran growling at the garage door. Barked a few times. then rushed in to see check on us, Hair on their backs raised high.

He looked to me with eyes of amazement.

I went back into shield gaze.

Best to not think too much I've learned.

I must have held the shield up for another two hours, effortlessly really. My pleasure. My friend and I enjoyed the bliss. The clear mind, the NOW. I love it so, and get tastes of it not nearly enough. I Long for it as I get dragged back down. Sometimes pondering on if I made mistakes. If I'd ever get there again.

In it, I know diffrent. Someday I'll be fully 5d. We all will.

I had to use the restroom, so told friend I was breaking concentration.

As I spoke, I moved from my statue state.

3 aura green fairies flew off my head. Like little tiny butterflies dissapearing off into the room.

Purple, gold, pink pixel dust trailed behind them. I asked him if he saw, he slowly nodded and eyes wide told me at that moment I had huge whisps of green aura flowing under each eye. Like wings on my cheek bones. Said I was a wizard! Lol, I laughed. I wish it to be true someday I thought.

My friend wanted to go have a smoke in the garage.

I thought it not the wisest plan, But, I try to remind myself I'm not dead yet for some damn reason!

As we were getting up, and don't ask me why, but I pointed the tip of the crystal tower at the candle flame. The candle flame, It was incased in glass.

We both watched in amazment as the flame seemed to be getting sliced by some sort of energy flowing like a laser beam through the crystal point.

It was turning the flame red and then blue and even green! Very pronounced slicing through the candle flame. Making the candle flicker hard! Almost extinguished the flame at times. Amazing! Boggled our minds!

We forgot about everything else, heading out to smoke, we laughed while trying with the English words that seem to ever fail me, as to what we just saw.

Naturally it's gotten easier to press into our ever expanding box of beliefs. But somedays.. Wow!

Making it now into the garage, my friend points to a dark corner.

He says "it's there."

I look and sure enough the shadows, they are moving, dripping black darkness.

Poor attempt at hiding I thought.

It's no fear or lose big in these games I remind myself. So I bow my head briefly to it. My friend says hello to it. And we smoke.

It was sitting there, so I lit a Nag champa incense that was half burned.

I clutched a black tourmaline in my pocket.

The cigarette seemed to be taking to long. I felt the urge to get back to the comfort of the candle room.

I walked back towards the door to inside, then thought it bad form to leave my friend mid smoke. As I turned back around.

My friend seemed dazed. I asked him calmly to follow me inside. Though, by the look in his eyes, I knew He wasn't the friend I walked out here with.

I asked him again calmly, "lets head inside Dan, feel the safety of the crystals again."

"It's cozy in there, no?"

He's staring off now, then he says in a weird voice.

"Hold on, I'm just getting acquainted with this body. It feels realllly niccce. *laughs creepily*

but not really creepy, he felt gentle to me. He seemed sincere. Idk how to explain it. He looked like he was trying to figure out how to operate the body for the first time. He was impressed with it. He wanted to stay in the garage.

So I toyed with him on the light switch. Little bursts of light and periods of darkness while telling him to follow my voice to safety. He was laughing enjoying the light show. He listened to me finally. He Put the incense out and followed me back to the fireplace room. I had him sit close to me. I pulled back out the tower and went back into the shield gaze. It's notable that The shield went up so powerfully this time I could actually see it clear as day. Refracting the candle light . prism the light into colors. Immediately I was relieved, and he snapped out of it.

I didn't tell him what happened in the garage.

I held the shield until mornings light. When the beautiful sunshine came at last it felt like I could rest..

I've kept a close eye on my friend. He seems fine. He said he's felt the best since our interesting night.

Interesting night indeed.

[invincibleiron]

"Angry with me?" Tony pleaded, giving a false whine - honestly, the banter made it easy to keep himself distracted from the pain. "Don't worry about me, Bruce. I've got this. I promise it's not like I'll need you to put a new electromagnet in me." He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to focus on something and figure out what he could do. He'd need to get provisions, he'd need to make sure that he was safe - he didn't even know if he was on a mountain side or some ravine or what.

"Keep yourself safe, Bruce. I'll be right here." when there was silence Tony willed himself into moving again. He didn't need Bruce to hear him crying out in pain. As far as supplies the escape pod had enough water to last him and some basic supplies he could recognize. There was some medicine and some food, although he had no idea how long the bars were meant to last. He knew after getting some water in him and eating a bar he did feel much better though.

His trips outside the pod didn't last for very long, he could tell he was in a valley and that it would have been a rough journey on foot. As far as the suit went, he'd need a proper lab to really get up and running again which bothered him. He felt exposed, he felt like at any second Thanos might come back to finish what he started. But then again all the titan had said he wanted was to balance the scales some. If nothing had happened in almost a year... Well...

Tony had stripped down most of the odds and ends to the pod and sorted out the components he might be able to use. The piles weren't exactly neat but they would prove useful in the future and Tony had a feeling that if Bruce wasn't in America there was a lot that had changed. He was quietly singing to himself to keep his nerves down when the hatch ripped open and he was lucky that he had suffered a lot of blood loss. He didn't need to get excited over the show of brute strength, no matter how ridiculously appealing it was to him. The moment he saw Bruce he had crossed the distance between them, both arms tight around Bruce's neck as he swallowed back a cry.

If it was relief, or if it was pain, he truly didn't know. "I'm so glad you're okay." He managed to say against Bruce's shoulder where he'd pressed his head. Letting go would be the hard part now.

“ You say that and it makes me already want to be angry at you. “ He retorted on the open comm, looking around his small room and grabbing this and that as he packed his brown satchel. He had a backpack as well he could fill with things, which he would stock up on before he left out of Lima. He’d also check up on reports coming out of Chile. Maybe they thought the ship was a meteor, the Chilean government wasn’t exactly the most advanced of all the world. He would have to see when he got there.

“ Look. Right now, I need to head down to the market and stock up on some supplies and get out of Lima before nightfall. Stay with .. whatever type of thing you’re in, and hope the Chilean government doesn’t get to you before I do. I’ll check in on my way there. “ After that, Bruce finished packing what he could and left his small apartment in the high hills of Lima. It didn’t take too long for him to acquire food, even proper antibiotics, more medicine because he could afford it, and even trade things. Luckily, Bruce had taken a few things from his lab too, so hopefully that could help fix .. whatever had happened to Tony. He could hear the pain in his voice. That was his best friend – a man that he.. well. Bruce had always had his own feelings ever since they met. He just never voiced it.

After pushing drivers to go faster on mountain passes on death roads, paying extra money to get himself to certain locales, Bruce made it in two and a half days, two steps ahead of the government. Nebula’s pod, had crashed right smack into a valley of a mountainside. He’d paid extra for help to get him down, and extra for men to wait so they could get back out. Once he approached it, he tried to get a peek inside, get a look at Tony, trying to see if he was still in there. There was an obvious door, a hatch. Bruce, who often had surges of strength without control, easily ripped the more than just heavy hatch door off the craft.

“ Tony! “