#soft moss for a bed and mushrooms for my pillows

[goopylittleghosty]

I wanna sleep there

[ch4osm4ster]

Routine

Small friendly alien × reader scenario.

(Could be platonic, could be romantic. Romance is hinted at but I guess could be ignored?)

Made everything vague and neutral so anyone can imagine their own lil creature in it's place. Reader is human though and alien is around half the size of a human. No names mentioned. Reminder I am more experienced with drawing then writing so this isn't gonna be high level writing lol. I wrote this cuz I was tired of nobody else doing something with this type of vibe.

Summary:

After a whole day chatting you and your alien companion end up going to sleep under the stars, but instead of you being the bigger spoon like usually, they insist on being the bigger spoon instead.

Words: 1,160

Sitting on a patch of grass sat you, and a tiny creature you sometimes call a friend, sometimes a lover. While most humans would find the size difference awkward, you did not. And neither did your little companion.

You two had a pretty uneventful day, but did spend all your energy on talking about the differences between your world and theirs. And while it was fun, you could only talk for so long before you felt the need to rest engulf you both. It was getting late, thank goodness, so you both took this chance to enjoy the scenery and ambience of nature surrounding you.

It was peaceful.

Now, this is kind of a private matter, but you both had made up a routine whenever you hung out. You would talk for hours, and then when it was finally time for bed, a search for the perfect spot to sleep on was started, typically a patch of thick soft moss, or maybe a cave filled with life sized mushrooms. Then, after relaxing a bit, you two would inch closer to share body heat. And closer.

And closer.

Until one day it became cuddling.

That's your routine now, talk and then hold eachother gently to sleep. And in the morning you two would look for something to eat, provided by mother nature herself. You learned to always keep a lighter and something sharp with you wherever you go, just in case for these scenarios.

Now typically, since you're bigger then them, them being like half your size, you end up being the big spoon each time. Your arms always surrounding their whole body and keeping them close to you while you both dozed off to dreamland.

And you were ready to do so again, you laid down on your side and raised an arm, looking up expectantly.

"No, no," they waved their little finger back and forth while smirking. "Tonight I'M the big spoon."

"You? The big spoon? And how do you plan to do that huh?" You raised an eyebrow and them, but decided to sit up either way, curious where this was going.

"Don't worry, i got my ways," they said while puffing out their chest.

They crossed their legs and wiped off remaining specks of dirt and dust, wiggling their hips in place to get more comfortable, their cocky posture turning into something so unserious yet focused so fast you almost laughed. You looked on, grin getting wider but eyebrows knitting in confusion. Then, when they were ready, they looked at you like you looked at them earlier, expectant, and patted their lap, "your pillow, my humble human."

You couldnt help but chuckle, they seemed overly confident this was going to work and to be honest, the confidence was contagious. You slowly lowered your head onto their lap, facing away as this was a new situation and making eye contact right now was not on your to do list. After some wiggling arount for a comfortable position, checking if you weren’t too heavy for them, you let out a big sigh. This was indeed pretty comfortable, you almost wished this could've happened sooner which in turn made you wonder about the sudden change. You called out their name as a question, "so... what's the occasion?"

Their hand reached the top of your head, fingers slowly moving against your scalp, almost like a very slow petting motion you could only feel. "Occasion?" They asked.

"Yea, i mean, I'm not complaining. This is actually really nice. But it's diffrent from how we usually do this. Did you get tired of me snoring into your ear or something?" You joked, a light smirk appearing on your lips that they probably couldn't see but could hear.

"Whaat, i could never get tired of you snoring loudly into my ears while i sleep!" They joked back. "Nah, actually, I've been thinking-"

"You think? Oh my god i didnt know you could do that!"

That earned you a light smack on the back of your head, both of you erupting into laughs while you pushed your face deeper into their thighs to try and be more quiet. When you both finally calmed down, they put their hand back on your head.

"I've been thinking," they started again, giving you a skeptical look while trying not to laugh again. You looked up from your spot in their lap and shrugged, a silent sign you weren't gonna interupt again. "Ive been thinking about how unfair it is that you can hold me like that, and keep me warm, while i can't. And while i can't do the same, i figured I'd at least do something in return. Show you some love as well. Give some attention back."

"O-oh." You stammered, stunned. Guess you never thought about it that way, always focused on putting them first and trying to give them as much attention as you comfortably could.

"That's... really sweet of you," you managed to communicate. Your eyes, which were still looking at them, looking somewhere else as you smiled, a light dust of blush appearing onto your cheeks. Its not often you get to feel this way. So... small.

In a way, your roles really have switched. While they might be smaller physically, you are the one who now feels smaller, albeit emotionally.

"Is that a blush i see?" They pointed out.

You eyes widened as you were brought back into the present, blush dissappearing, thoughts no longer wandering to places themed around you little companion and their kindness.

"No it's not, humans don't blush," you lied blatantly and turned around so fast they couldn't have missed the fact you were lying.

They smiled gently and just looked at the part of you laying comfortably in their lap, hand returning to it's rightful place and ruffling your head before becoming almost stationary again. "Sure thing, whatever you say, i definitely believe you, uh-huh."

You both chuckled quietly, unable to hold back, atmosphere light and playfull as you started to calm down yet again. You yawned, which in turn made them yawn as well. It was interesting how you were different species and yet yawns were still contagious to eachother.

"Sleep time i guess," they said while stretching their arms and lowering themselves onto the ground. They were now laying on their back, your head on their stomach as to not disturb their breathing or crush any important anatomy you might not have.

"Yeah, sleep time," you whispered, already on the brink of falling asleep. Sharing these moments with them always made you fall asleep faster, sleep being a lil better then usual too.

You both bid your final goodnight's as the ambience of the nightly creatures surrounded you again, no longer overshadowed by your banter, and preparing you both for a night of good dreams...

And in the morning, you'll eat breakfast again, and probably do it all over again.

You wondered what tomorrow's topic will be...

[pinkseas]

FIRESIDE!!! AND BONFIRE :0

fireside - if you had your dream wardrobe, what would it look like?

mmmm okay so. im actually working on making this a Reality but my dream wardrobe is. 75% So Many Pastels like a lot of pink but also other pastels purple blue yellow etc etc and then like browns and earthy greens and dusty pinks and such earthy colors rose colors. and then 25% black bc black clothing kinda slaps especially paired with pastels. LOTS of sweaters lots of bishop sleeves lots of jeans but like specifically the comfy kind some denim SUCKS but some is nice. ummmmm yeah <3 LOTS of pink lots of hearts but not ONLY pink and hearts. still pastels and mushrooms and flowers and just plain colors and such. i hvae lost the plot i dont know if this makes any sense anymore

bonfire - describe your dream house.

MMMM OKAY SO. a bedroom for each person living there but with beds big enough to share beds when wanted. and one room thats dedicated to Being Cozy. speakers a tv books LOADS of blankets and pillows and bean bag chairs and such fairy lights curtains etc. a place to hang out and cuddle and just be at peace and rest and such. and a sun room with lots of plants because sun rooms are So Important fr. very earthy lots of green and brown and yellow and the rooms all personalized to our tastes but the house itself more neutral and very nature-y. ummmmmmmm. OH in the bathroom one of those showers with no curtains like the Big open ones ive been in one of those and it was genuinely just so nice so refreshing it was wonderful im OBSESSED. and there was this like warm bath you could just Chill In after once you were clean and it was so. <333 something like that. all the lighting would be warm lighting lots of yellow and such. all hardwood or tile but lots of rugs like NICE rugs soft rugs not ugly ones. probably a study/library/office too because that'd just be so lovely like an area dedicated to reading and work and organization itd be so lovely. maybe the comfy cozy room could be in a loft. OH and a big big yard like either a wildflower lawn or a moss lawn or msotly moss but lots of flowers in there anyways maybe one of those fountains made to look like a pond. a mini waterfall/stream going into one of those. preferably it would be like not QUITE in the middle of nowhere, but in the middle of nowhere enough that you cant see other houses from it and its removed from the road and very private and such. there would be at least one chaise in the house maybe in the cozy room i think chaises are so nice i wish i had room for one or one in the house they seem so cozy like a nice pretty one not the ugly f ancy ones or the fucking "modern" ones. okay i need to stop before i think of more things ive been typing for like 15 minutes

[coulsonlives]

Yoooo, I wanted to spot an ai picture on my own someday, and I finally did!

First things first: a lot of objects are in really weird places. What is the purpose of the mushroom with the stem facing out (the thing on the wall to the right of the bed, at least I think it's a mushroom)? And what is that weird lamp thing left of the bed? It doesn't make sense, it looks like a neopets negg that emits light with a weird band around it, with a lil triangular piece. What's that for? It doesn't seem functionally useful and the whole thing in general just looks like a weird floating ball of light. Also, what is that metal straw thing sticking up from the side table right next to it?

Look at the legs of the table on the far left. They make no sense, it looks like there are two legs at first glance, but that isn't physically possible for a table, esp one that's on a soft rug, it would fall over. Where are the other legs? If you look closer at the left leg, it looks super weird near the bottom, which is a super clear indication the program that made this didn't know how to resolve that leg and how it looked. The whole area there is really hard to read, you can't figure out what's going on, are they legs, or curtain ripples?

The transition between the white blanket(??) on the bed, and the white column holding up the mushroom thing, is totally smooth! It makes it look like the blanket IS the column, or turns into the column. There's no transition or shadow or anything to indicate the blanket and column are separate

What is up with that ceiling? And the boundary between the curtains and the ceiling on the left side looks sus.. What's with the weird blob of blue light, which also seems to be on the mushroom somehow?? It looks like someone overlayed a soft blue 'glow blob' onto a finished picture

Lots of shadows don't look right! Like the shadow under the weird moss rug. The bed itself looks like it's floating because the shadow under it (on the rug) is way darker than the shadow at the bottom of the mattress! It doesn't match. The two turquoise pillows look like they're floating or not in the right room too

The lighting in general doesn't look right

This picture, like most ai art, also has the typical 'noise removal' filter applied to it, to make everything look more cohesive, but it just looks like a low-quality pic

At first glance this pic looks physically possible, and yeah the concept is cool, but when you start to look at the individual deets, and how each of the pieces are integrated into things around em, it starts to fall apart really fast. Sometimes ai art isn't immediately identifiable, but most of the time, all it takes is a few minutes of looking closer and seeing if everything makes sense

Ok that's my how-to-spot ai 'photography' for today, I hope you liked it

You would kill a man for this bedroom

[sp00kworm]

A Cave in the Emerald Mountains

Pairing: Nazzog x Gender Neutral Reader, Dragon x Reader, Dragon x Human 

Warnings: Animal death, threat of violence. 

A/N: The artwork below was done for me by a close friend, @sleepybatart​ , for my icon, and was based on my beloved Nazzog, the dragon featured in this work! Please go check out his work!! This is my first attempt at writing something quite original so I hope it lives up to everyone’s expectations. 

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The woodlands were cool this time of day, hiding you from the heat of the sun with the shade of new summer leaves. The trees stood tall and proud over you as you pulled away the leaves on the floor and rummaged for the truffles hidden deep under the roots. You turned the soil with a little trowel and whistled softly as you worked, picking through roots before you snatched the singular fungus from the ground and tucked it into a small cloth. You wrapped it with twine before making sure it sat at the bottom of your bag, out of the reach of any naughty animals that might come snuffling on your way back to the village. You shook dirt from the trowel before tucking it back into your belt and looking around the trees. Pine needles and some herbs were left on the list. Wild garlic was probably the thing you could pick up easily before you stopped off at the lair of the dragon you had come to know. The beast was hidden deep within a grove, hidden in a deep cave reaching into the base of the smallest of the looming Emerald Mountains. Carefully, you plucked a garlic bulb free before thumping the dirt off against the tree. You tucked them into your leather satchel, in the deep pocket behind the products you had stored away for the trip. With another two bulbs in your bag, you moved on from the garlic cluster and looked out for the pine trees. When the largest one appeared, you knew to veer to the left to enter the grove of the giant, old dragon you had come to know.

The trees grew a little thinner towards the grove, yet they stood tall, ancient in the face of the stone structures around them, facing a curling wall of smog. The grove was like another world. You stepped through the fog, breathing deeply as it whipped around you, dragging your hair upwards before it parted like a puddle, spewing to the sides, and revealed a moist grove. Moss covered the floor and you stepped over the moss in your heavy duty boots with a smile, looking up in time to see the lights in the vines float a little lower, revealing cheeky, butterfly-like Fae, smiling with razor sharp teeth as they tugged at your bag and hair.

“Nazzog is sleeping.” One of them sung before giggling as you plucked a cake from your bag for them. Three of them snatched the cupcake and you nodded at the one floating before your face. She shrugged, “He won’t like it. He told you to stop coming.” And sang.

You ran your hand over the weeping willow tree’s leaves and shrugged, “Since when do I listen to him?” You joked before waving to the little Fae and continuing towards the looming cave entrance. Fog followed your ankles as you stood before the great cavernous entrance. Water dripped down the side of the stone, the mineral deposits hanging in small stalactites from the ceiling. You ducked as you entered, despite the hole being large enough for a crouched, twenty-five-foot dragon to enter.

 Inside the cave was even cooler. You tugged your thin travelling cloak closer to you, tucking your arms through it as you walked along the long passageway. It ended with two new passageways and you took the right one, making sure not to step in the mushroom circles as you headed further in and followed the glowing trail of bioluminescent mushrooms down the left side of the passageway. A great gust of hot air made you smile. Nazzog was sleeping, just as the mischievous Fae said. Trudging along, you finally reached the glow of Nazzog’s centre most chamber. With a quiet, deep breath, you gazed up at the piles of treasure adorning either side of the open cavern and huffed at the immense candles burning near them, dripping oozing piles of enormous wax across the floor. You climbed one of the piles before heading towards the dragon’s snout. Nazzog was a massive beast. His black scales glimmered with a purple sheen in the candlelight. Smoke curled from his nostrils as he slept and you walked closer to his snout with a soft laugh, laying a hand on one of his great, downwards curling horns, stroking the hardened scales around them as you sat in one of his giant cushions, making sure to put your feet down by his exposed teeth. The dragon rumbled from his slumber, smoke curling through his teeth as giant, orange eyes opened. Gold sliced through his pupils as he peered closely as your body, sprawled awkwardly over one giant cushion that you couldn’t sit in properly.

 Nazzog raised his head with a stretch, pointed tongue dipping from his mouth as he moved his head from his crossed paws. After giving a smoke filled yawn, Nazzog peered down at you, one, burning eye lowered to your level as his talons reached for the pillow you were sat on, pushing it away from his eye. Dragons had bad eyesight close-up. Their eyes were made for hunting and looking at prey from amazing heights.

“I told you to stay away.” He growled as he laid his head back on his talons.

“I know, but I know you need that wound seeing to. Its been a week since the last lot of salve and I know you’ve probably been licking it again.” You teased him as you reached into your satchel to draw out the large jar of green medicinal salve.

Nazzog’s eye closed as he grunted, “It is fine.”

You wiggled your way off the pillow, clutching the salve close, walking towards his leg, “Leg, Nazzog.” You scolded the dragon, poking his scaled leg.

“Persistent pest.” He growled as he span his leg over, revealing the almost healed cut on the soft part just above his paw. He flashed his talons as you poked at the tender flesh around it. Nazzog growled, “Be careful. Its tender.”

“Stop being a big baby. You’re older than the village, Nazzog!” You joked as you opened the salve and began to smear it on the cut. It was barely a graze now thanks to your attention and hard work in the apothecary.

 Nazzog watched you apply the salve quietly, great head bowed to observe a little closer as you poured the last of the mixture on and patted it gently. He turned his nose towards your bag on the pillow and huffed at the smell of the garlic.

“Why do you always come in here with the most pungent smelling things.” He complained as you went to put the jar back in your bag, “I could give you these things from my own supplies every time you come.” He offered gruffly as you closed your bag.

You smiled up at the old dragon, “I like to get it myself.” You denied his offer, “Plus if people get suspicious about me coming back with all these things already dried, it could put you in danger…and you’re already hurt because of me.”

Nazzog gave a smile full of daggers, “The spear nicked me.” He soothed, “They didn’t live long enough to tell anyone about my home. You worry far too much.” The dragon leaned down before shoving you back towards the entrance with one huge paw. Before you could leave, he draped a purple heavy cloak over your shoulders, a garb fit for royalty, “This should ward off the evening chill a lot better.” He nudged you towards the tunnel and turned his neck to coil back around his bed of silk pillows and scattered gold trinkets.

 A fire roared in the cavern the next time you arrived. The summer was beginning to give way to autumn, yet the grove was still blissfully warm and in full season. The Fae tittered at the silver spoon you offered before revealing the great entrance to Nazzog’s home. The cave was cool, quickly turning cold, and you hugged the royal purple cloak closer to yourself as you navigated the mushroom traps and approached the flames. Nazzog was awake this time, dragging his claws through his treasure as though he was searching for something among the piles of gold. He speared a chalice and tossed it down by his tail before he hummed at a small treasure box. The dragon slammed it open and shifted through the jewels that poured out with another huff. Evidently those were not what he was looking for either.

“Have you lost something, Nazzog?” You asked as you pulled the hood of the cloak down onto your shoulders. The dragon turned his fiery eye on you before turning with a few thunderous steps.

“Its none of your business.” He answered before settling on his paws, perched, watching you with curiosity, “Are you so bored that you need to come and harass me still?” He asked as his spiked tail coiled through golden coins, scattering the coins with a whipping motion, obscuring the jewels and evidence of his sorting.

 “I came to see you again. I know for sure that wound is healed now.” You stood looking up at the ashen dragon with a determined smile.

“Are you that confident in your work?” He snarled before softening when you grinned, “Thank you for your work. I can pay you for the inconvenience. You humans like gold still, correct?” The dragon pulled a pile of coins forward and you laughed at him.

“I don’t want payment. You saved me. I paid you back by helping heal you.” You insisted as the dragon stretched his neck and stood in the tall cavern, “Plus…I enjoy talking to you. Looking after you wasn’t that much of a big deal.” You placed a gentle hand on his leg before watching the dragon spread his wings and shudder. With a stretch of his jaws, smoke poured from the dragon’s mouth, wrapping around his form as he let out a echoing cry and disappeared in the cloud of smoke. A foot stepped out of the smog and your eyes went wide as you gazed at the figure of a prince that came out of it.

“You can’t wear the skin of a dead prince!” You hissed at the dragon as he tossed dark hair from his eyes and bent down to pick up something to cover himself.

“This is better for moving outside, is it not?” Nazzog grumbled as he shuffled closer, golden chains dripping from his body around the silk cover.

 “You’re being stubborn and annoying on purpose at this point.” You sighed, “I don’t have to be seen walking around with a human. I’m not scared of you or of what people will think if they saw us, just scared of what they will do to you... You’re the last of your kind, Nazzog.”

Nazzog’s golden, human eyes widened before he hid himself behind the curtain of his dark hair and walked back behind a great pile of gold. Smoke rushed over the metal in a wave before the black dragon’s wings burst from the cloud and he slammed his great paws down in his lair once more.

“Fine. Then we shall take to the skies.” His great head lowered, grazing the pile, knocking gold coins free, until his chin rested on the floor by your feet, “Climb on, human, or I will hold you in my claws.” Nazzog scoffed playfully at your hesitance before snatching you in his paw, like he said and depositing you in the groove behind his horns.

“Hold my horns or you will fall.” He rumbled with mischief as he ducked his body and began to slither along the passageway back towards the entrance of his lair. The mushrooms were dark, their natural light gone as the dragon weaved his way out of his den. Tentatively, he stuck his nose out of the entrance and sniffed, smelling for danger before he glanced around and crawled free, out into the clearing. The Fae snickered and rested in his horns, tugging on your cloak as the dragon stuck his head through the trees and sniffed again, peering around for any signs of danger once more before he turned and slammed his claws into the rock face.

 “We’re going up this way?” You asked as you wrapped your hands around the base of his horns, your fingers encompassing about half of the circumference.

“I have to find a place to take off. This is the easiest way. Once I climb high enough, we can go.” Nazzog rumbled as he began climbing up the rock face, easily propelling himself upwards with his great, black talons. The stone held steady as you both reached a reasonable height above the trees, and Nazzog quickly pulled you both over onto a great platform on the mountain. It was wide and long enough for the dragon to make a running leap into the air.

“Hold on.” He shouted at you before rushing towards the edge of the sheer drop. Subconsciously, you clenched your eyes shut and grabbed hold of Nazzog’s neck tight, holding on for dear life as the dragon jumped from the rocks and opened his shining wings. The leathery, black skin rippled before going taut, the sun shining shades of purple over them, the skin snapping as the wind slammed against you both. You opened your eyes as Nazzog gave a great beat of his wings and soared upwards with three more powerful strokes. The ascent was hard work, but you gasped as you both burst over the top of the smaller mountain in the range. The snowy peaks ahead made you smile in awe, gazing at the cold sprinkling of white snow with glee as Nazzog swerved towards the highest mountain and dipped to dive slowly, heading towards the highland fields where the weather was cool but the air was fresh.

 “This is amazing!” You cheered as you pushed your fingers under his chin, listening to Nazzog rumble happily as you grazed a scent gland beneath his hard scales.

“Don’t expect me to do it again. I’m not a horse you can saddle.” The black dragon snorted as he banked to the left and slowly circled lower and lower, churning the white fluff of the clouds around you as he made his descent to the highland fields below. The heavy, long grass came into view as the dragon flapped his wings hard, blowing great gusts of air that pushed the grass down against the earth. His back feet connected with a rock structure before he grasped the front of the rock with his front paws, talons chipping the stone. His wings fluttered, shaking before he planted them in the rock as well, the hooked claws on the end tucking into the structure with ease. He laid his neck on the rock and turned his head to the left, letting you down from your seat.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” He asked with a purr.

You looked around at the rocky field with a smile, “That was astounding. I never thought I’d see the world from the air like that. It makes me wish I was like you.” You sighed wistfully as you held your bag and sat down, resting against his thick neck as you gazed up at the cloudy sky.

 The cold bit at your nose and you tugged your cloak closer before nestling close to the gas glands in Nazzog’s neck, soaking in the heat they generated as he peered around, tucking himself close, making himself appear like another heavy rock atop the structure you were both sat on.

“I don’t think my life would suit you. Hiding from kings who wish for magic and my bones isn’t the life I ever wanted.” He growled against the stone, shooting smoke from between his teeth as he thought of darker things, “I would like the company of my own kind again though. Perhaps if you did become Draconic we could share tales and tear open brigades of merchants for their jewels?”

Your nose wrinkled at the idea of such slaughter, “I would rather not.”

The dragon laughed, “Of course, but you forget such trivialities when faced with a life as long as mine.” Nazzog watched you grow contemplative with a sigh of smoke.

“Has anyone ever become a Dragon?” You asked curiously as Nazzog spewed more smoke, making fire in his throat to keep you warm.

 Nazzog peered at your face, quiet and solemn, before answering carefully, “There was a tale once. As a hatchling my Mother told it to me. A princess once became a dragon. The beast of the volcano in the far west kidnapped her for a ransom from her father, an evil man that wished to sell her off to the highest bidder. His gold never came yet he found himself adoring the human. She did not cry when he took her, and never tried to leave. She read him poetry and sang songs of her people when he could not rest. The Red Beast offered her a life with him, away from the agony and pain the King had put her through. She accepted his offer. One night she wished for the Mother of the Forest, the Queen of the Fae, to give her more time in her life to spend with her beloved dragon. The Fae Queen appeared to them both in the churning lava, offering to change her into a dragon for the price of his greatest jewel. The dragon plunged into the lava and returned with a grin. He gave the Fae Queen a diamond from the depths of the volcano. The Fae Queen took the Princess’ human life and bathed her in the flames of the volcano, hardening her skin to scales and changing her into a Draconic creature that could spend eternity with her lover. It is said that only that diamond holds the power to change someone so, and if two lovers hold it, they can become what they desire.”

 You gazed at Nazzog and smiled, “That is a beautiful story.”

Nazzog scoffed against the stone, “A tale for children. I have mastered magic and studied the Fae. They hold no such power.” He wrapped a protective set of talons around you, “Besides, who would want to be a beast such as a Dragon?” The black dragon teased as you wrapped a hand around one of his toes, careful to avoid the razor-sharp edge of his claws.

“I would if it meant I could see the world and if I could…”

Nazzog hushed you as he curled himself tight, exposing the jagged plating of his body as he whispered a hiding spell in his own, hissing language, hiding himself from whatever was approaching. You grumbled as you sat on top of his foot, trying to appear as though you were resting against a large rock as a young man walked over, his dog following, nipping at his heels.

 “Hey there! Its not often we get walkers or travellers up here! You sure you ain’t lost?” The young man was a sheep farmer, clad in woollen layers with a sheepskin cloak tied around his shoulders. He had a pale, freckled face, dark eyes, and a bright smile. They probably didn’t get many visitors up in the highlands, never mind people from the villages below the mountains.  

You pushed yourself up against Nazzog and smiled politely, “I’m okay, thank you! I just came to the field for a walk.” You insisted. Fear laced in your gut as the boy started to climb the stones. You admired Nazzog for not throwing the boy away as he set one foot on his leg. He could only see a very bumpy boulder.

“You ain’t from here though. Nor the next village.” He looked at your expensive cloak, gifted to you by Nazzog and your plain travelling clothes beneath it, not made for the highlands, “How have you got up here? You’re from the villages…” He scowled but didn’t say anything else, “Hush Betty, I’ll be down in a minute!” He scolded his dog, whistling her away as he sat himself down.

Before he could say anything else, you stood up, “Well I better be on my way!”

He held your cloak with a curious look, “Hey I ain’t gonna bite ya!” He drawled, “Just wanted to talk to a cutie like you is all.”

 You felt Nazzog rumble underneath you, and so did the poor Shepard. In a sudden flick of his foot, you watched Nazzog send the poor boy flying off the rocks. His neck whipped around with his great, spiked tail, extending himself to his full height, teeth on display as he snatched at you protectively, grabbing you between his two front paws.

“What right do you have to speak in such a manner?!” He hissed, fire burning in his mouth as he passed you to his other clawed paw and watched the boy’s dog howl at him. He scared Betty away with a roar and a blast of fire, scorching the grass to black ash in a fiery display.

“DRAGON!” The boy screamed as he sprinted after his dog, rushing towards the barn and the flock of sheep. Nazzog roared again, tongue out, spit flying, and rushed into the air with three great beats of his wings. He soared behind the boy before snatching one of his flock with a snap of his talons. The sheep bleated in his grasp before going quiet. You grunted in his grasp and tried to look away from the bleeding animal as Nazzog rushed back down the mountains, towards his lair in the grotto.

 The sheep was bones now. Nazzog picked at his teeth with the animal’s leg, ignoring you, his tail coiled around himself and his spiney back facing you. You moved towards his pillow pile and kicked at his tail.

“Are we not going to talk about what just happened up there? You could have killed me!” You scolded as Nazzog turned one fiery eye on you. He regarded your pathetic tantrum before shifting, lugging his body around to face you, his paw scooping you closer gently, easing you on top of the pillow pile, underneath his chest. You poked at his thick, plated chest, admiring the grey plating and scales underneath his belly, even as you tried to appear upset.

“Are you used to such attention from other humans?” He asked quietly, peering down at you, the lines of his scaley snout amplified by the downwards curl of the horns framing his face. It was like looking at a crowned beast.

You cocked an eyebrow, “Not really. No one wants to marry the one that smells like herbal medicines constantly.”  

Nazzog revealed his teeth in something akin to a smile, “Not even the pig farmer?”

You scoffed at him, “I wouldn’t want their attention!” and scowled, “Apparently even they have senses of smell.”

 Nazzog hummed, “No marriage proposals…” He raked his claws through his treasure pile before turning away again, “I find that odd.” He commented before he turned in his bed again and went to the other piles, searching through them with a determined gaze.

“Why do you care, Nazzog. You’ve wanted rid of me since I started coming here!” You huffed before grabbing your bag, “Which is fine, because I’m leaving.”

The dragon turned to catch you with one great paw, pulling you over to the pile of treasure as he pulled free a great chest with one claw, sending gold cascading down the pile, “There is something I want to give you…” He offered before tipping the chest open, “I know what I did was rude, but…” He opened his paw, “I do not like you speaking to humans like that one. It seems as though I have grown fond of you in these months…” The dragon confessed as he plucked free a giant emerald from the pile of treasure that had spilled out of the chest.

“Why are you giving me this?” You asked as Nazzog raised the jewel towards you. It was huge and a rich, dark green, shining brilliantly in the light of the candles of his lair.

Nazzog purred, lowering his head towards your own to press his muzzle to the side of your head, “It is a gift. My own kind give each other their greatest treasures to prove their worth.”

You choked on your words, “Are you proposing to me?!”

 Nazzog’s tail trailed through the piles of treasure before he let out a great laugh, fire bursting from his teeth. Smoke curled from his nose as he dipped his head, “I suppose it is a proposal.” He offered the gem again and watched you take it with a purr, “I would not just let anyone do what you have. No one has ever been allowed to touch me…let alone ride upon my back.” He declared.

You were silent, looking at the emerald in your hands with a small frown.

“I am truly sorry for my behaviour, gem.” He rumbled as he nudged you again, pressing your hand to the tip of his snout.

“You should be.” You grumbled before smiling at the immense emerald in your hands, “But I forgive you. You only gave him a fright.” With a small laugh you hugged Nazzog’s head and felt hot tears burn behind your eyes.

“I love you…at least I think I do. I just want to escape everything, Nazzog. Home. People. I want to know about the world!” You pulled away from his scales and laughed as his tongue licked away your tears.

“You will have the world.” He promised as he took you into his paws and tucked you close to his chest once more.

[windwardstar]

Roon: part 7 (~1k) Ft Moss the angry forest spirit.

==

Sentinel Rock is a large formation rising from the water at the mouth of the cove. Roon sits at its base staring out at the water, the towering structure casting him into shadows. The material is solid black where he sits, but fades to gray as it disappears into the mist. Centuries of wind and rain and magic storms have worn it away to nothing but a featureless pillar.

His memories though remember a great statue, a guardian of the cove, a guide to those fishing out in the fog shrouded waves.

He reaches out a gloved hand to the smooth surface and breathes into his magic, letting it and the image of what the statue had once been fill his mind. Like the incoming tide, he then lets his magic roll out over the stone, upwards, bringing back folds of cloth, legs, arms, a masked face standing half a line high.

Glowing like a star against the gray of twilight is a light from the sentinel’s hand, outstretched a full three lines above Roon and visible to the Trader’s Horizon.

After the first raid ship, the light had been extinguished, replaced instead by the illusions that changed the sky.

Far above him, horizon upon horizon lengths above him, the illusions have finally been shattered for the last time, and the sky shines clear. 

He dozes off after a while. He has to have, because he wakes up at the foot of the statue. The water around him is frozen, the bay a solid mass of jagged broken ice, and the fogs hang thick and low over it all, blocking the other side of the mouth from his view.

But around the foot of the stone, around him, is a bed of soft moss, of mushrooms and curling ferns. Taking a deep breath, he looks down at his hands and the subtle differences in shape between that of his waking body and that of his dreams.

When he looks up again, there is a forest around him, full of sleeping trees and pillows of snow.

And a bright melted pool of spring, with the kind of vibrancy in color that only comes when everything is saturated with water.

And there is a person staring at him, glaring at him. Their hair is black like smooth glass stones, like his. There are twigs and leaves sticking out of it, like they’re holding the messy moss covered twists in place. Their eyes are the moons. Their skin is white as the snow, as the clouds, and growing up from their neck where the regular black markings should be is a pattern of green lichens flat on their skin. 

“You’re the reason the forest is dreaming,” they say and step forward. Their boots are an earthy brown and covered in moss, laced together with still living vines. Their clothing is worn but patched with the same weave of plants. It’s centuries out of date, but time means so little in this altered reality that Roon doesn’t think much of it. Instead, he’s forced to meet their eyes as they cross the distance in a few steps. “The forest is mine.”

Roon holds his ground. He’s taller than.. than the child before him. There is age in their eyes, centuries, elderly like the trees and perpetually young. They couldn’t be more than fifteen. At least… not when they died. 

He softens his voice, respect and compassion dampening any other emotions. “You’re the spirit in the trees.”

The spirit glares at him, anger held taut in every muscle and their eyes narrow to glaring slits. “This is my forest and you are not welcome, raid bringer, breaker.”

The names lash across Roon’s face and he looks down and away, unable to meet the spirit’s gaze. The land knows them. And so, he does too. The raid ships were why the spirit had been forced into the forest, lost, dying.

“Keep to the ruins. Those are yours,” they say, and then disappear with a flash of anger and light.

Keep to the ruins. Those are yours. He knows the weight of those words. Their history.

It was the raid ships that had created them in the first place. The empire stealing people from the shores. Destroying the cities. Then the towns. Then villages. Then whatever people managed to hold onto. An entire people scattered across a shattered continent.

The spirit’s anger has protected the forest, and the forest has protected their people for hundreds of years.

He knows the fear. He had fled into the forest wrapped in the fear.

And then… when the forest had not protected him, he became the reason for the anger. He had been cut down like the trees, manned the raid ships that had been built from the forest.

He had become the raids.

As many times as he had steered the fleets wrong, stopped their launching, stolen their crews, murdered the catchers, he had been part of the system. He had not been able to free a single puppet. If he ever returns to the islands, the Painted Courts have more than enough to condemn him a thousand times over.

Calif’s laugh echoes in his mind as he fights back the memory of his own flight into the forest. The memories that matter are the ones when he walked between the golden pillars, not the brown ones of the trees. The ruins are his. 

He helped create them. He has to help restore them. 

Closing his eyes, he tries to find his body sleeping at the base of the sentinel. Instead, he feels the world around him shift and finds himself standing there, surrounded by the summer mists.

[kemata-jellyfishlace]

A story best told behind closed doors

Warning. This story is NSFW and has gore and sacrifice wrote in it. Please read at your own caution and comfortability. I am not liable for how this story effects you rather it’s negative or positive. So please again read at your own caution. (Z) - Zzarion’s Speech (B) - Bernadette’s Speech

Bernadette couldn’t eat much that night due to the over growing anxiety and knots forming in her lower abdomen from the surprise that was revealed. It made her really think hard about her mate and how much she did not know about him or his past yet he knew so much of hers? It wasn’t a matter of her just talking about herself, no she had asked him of things and he barely grazes over some of them and just doesn’t really explain. Zzarion’s responses were always yes, no, who knows. So to hear about how he was once married to another Kemata was a shocker but not too big of one, but... to hear he was married to one of the most ruthless Kematas that have a huge bounty on their heads was a home run out of the stadium for her to comprehend. As everyone finished their plates and sat with full bellies, Bernie stood up and collected the empty plates and headed towards the kitchen to start cleaning them. “ (Z) You missed one. “ His voice was soft and deep, he was very cautious to offer the plate that was hers which still had all her food on it barely even touched. “ (Z) Are you wanting to save this for later? I can put it in the fridge. “ She turned to face away from him and at the sink so she could steady herself without showing her emotions. “ (B) Ah, yes. I’ll uhm.. I’ll put it away don’t worry about it. “ There was no movement, no response from him as he just stood there behind her, nervousness got the best of her and the hairs along her back started to perk and stand up, she bit hard on the inside of her cheek to try to stop it from happening but it was way too late, the blood that was drawn was just moments shy of working in her favor. “ (Z) Go upstairs. I’ll take care of everything. “ It wasn’t a favor. It wasn’t a suggestion. This was an order and she dropped the plate she had in her hands into the sink and swiftly made her way out of the room to flee upstairs. Embarrassed that he saw any emotion from her but good she closed the door hastily behind herself and started to fidget. Her body had dropped to all fours and she was pacing back and forth in front of the bed they had shared for a few months now. His paws were never soft, you could hear him from a mile away and him coming up the stairs was absolute fear, it sent her on the farthest edges of feral that she’s been since she was young and on the streets. These were new feelings that never before had been felt and they were not welcomed the least bit. Her ears were pinned back and her tail twitched between her legs as the door opened to reveal her mate. Zzarion stood in the door way studying her for a moment before stepping into the room and with slow delicate movements he pushed the door close behind him and gestured to the bed “ (Z) Please sit down. “ And she followed his commands with eyes still fixed on him. They were wild and untamed and he knew what he would need to say to her and how to say it so she would not do anything rash. As she climbed on the bed and sat down he noticed her tail was still twitching and her ears flicked back every so often, his body moved feet in front of her and he sat down on the floor at the foot of the bed. “ (Z) I was maybe sixteen years old when I met Mirela and she was seventeen. We were young and thought we loved each other. Back then she was not the Kemata she is today, the one who has killed others for the sake of her ‘gods’. “ He paused studying her before he went on. “ (Z) We met at a training facility for the Lux Concord Faction and I thought she was cool because I had never seen a Kemata who had a snake for a tail let alone a living snake that has it’s own thought process and mannerisms. My family pressed me to find a wife at a young age because that was what they were raised on; setting goals at a young age to prosper into adulthood with and to produce babies for the cause. She had no family what so ever so I felt obligated to be there for her because what is a Kemata if you don’t have family? “ Another pause and he could tell that she was getting restless sitting there, she would shift from putting her weight on one side to the other and her tail now started to swish atop the fitted sheets. He took a deep breath and went on none the less. “ (Z) We spent a couple years after that doing a lot of stuff together, we were by each other’s side for most of the days until she was called upon by some long lost family member, someone i had no recollection of or was even made aware to. We got married and not soon after she disappeared for days on end. It started out with a weekend she was gone visiting this ‘person’ she knew, then after a year it went to weeks on end then to months I would not see her. She came back one day and told me she was done and could not go on being with me. I was confused. I was hurt. I needed answers so when she gathered what little things she had I followed her along with my father. She went south very south, we found ourselves in the swamps, an area I have never went before. She was living in an old tree trunk with a few other Kematas that did not seem to fit her style of friends. “ He slowly moved closer to Bernadette, gauging how close he could inch before she would pull away which was about a foot and a half. Rear on the floor still but his front half was resting on the end of the bed. She had slinked back towards the pillows a bit to give both of them space. “ We watched her for a few days until she did what we deemed to be the worst you ever could do. I noticed she was getting a lot fatter and plumper the last few times i saw her and when she left she looked like she put on some weight. Don’t get me wrong, I know when you’re in a happy relationship you gain weight, it’s inevitable hell i’ve gained so much weight since i’ve been with you thus far. But she was gaining it in just her stomach and it didn’t click till that night. She was pregnant and it was our kits in there. The grim realization almost made me want to sprint from our hiding spot and wrap my arms around her, how exciting I was to be a father and I had no idea! But my father held me back, because we had followed her into a small clearing, where she laid down on a stone table that had red candles lit up in black fire and a ring of white mushrooms stained by the dripping wax. I was confused but my father pointed towards the far end of the clearing where the trees wove together creating a thick blanket of spanish moss. Something started to push it’s way through it. We saw a light colored Kemata with two sets of wings appear to be floating with no movement in the body come out, it had a razor sharp unicorn horn and piercing eyes. It was a sacred Kemata, the most regal of us, me nor father had ever seen one and we thought they were just stories and fairy tales to put kits to bed. ” Zzarion looked down at the bed sheets trying to hide his emotions the best he could before he went on. “ (Z) The sacred kemata used her horn to make a long lateral incision on her stomach and reached into Mirela removing her uterus. You could see the kits squirming inside of the tube like sack, they were alive and it looked as if there were maybe three in there. The thing then ripped it from her body and took the delicate part into her mouth and snapped her teeth closed on each part that moved or squirmed. I started to vomit and it attracted everyone’s attention to our spot and we had to flee...” Everything stopped. She could see tears welling and spilling down his fluffy cheeks, rolling off and dampening the sheets they slept on. Without thinking she found herself crawling over to him and cradling his face into her chest, nuzzling her cheek against the top of his head between his ears. “ (B) I don’t know what to say, I’m so sorry that happened Z...” He sniffled and pulled away from her and looked at her face “ (Z) I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but it’s something that will forever haunt me till my last breath, I don’t want anything like that to happen to you because you’re so very special to me. Bernadette, I love you. I have never felt this way with Mirela or anyone else for that matter and you mean the world to me. I don’t want to lose you because of me not jumping to tell you my past. “ He had never said anything like that to her nor had he professed his feelings like this, she started to sob uncontrollably and pressed her forehead to his, resting her nose against his broad snout. “ (B) I... I love you too, and i’m here for you no matter what. I want to know everything about you but I wont press, I’m not going anywhere. I promise. “ He stood up and wrapped her in a bear hug before she pulled him down into the bed where they spent the night caressing each other’s bodies and whispering sweet nothings with coos here and there. They didn’t realize they had talked all the way into the wee hours of the morning till the birds started to sing and the window lit up light blue.

[dionysus-is-my-dude]

Fae - Chapter One

Go easy on me, guys. I’ve never posted original works on here before. I’m an exposition nut, and I haven’t decided on our little human dollhouse maker’s name. What do you guys think it should be? Also, yes, I type in UK English. Sue me. Enjoy!

Fae 1

Humans have nearly destroyed what's left of the Old World. You may not remember what it was like. Hardly any of us do that live today. The elves perhaps, but no one sees them anymore. They live in complete isolation, unwilling to allow any kind privy to their history and knowledge. Many dwarves have integrated with the human world, those wonderful miners and crafters. Humans just think they are short people with a talent for jewelry and gold. I don't know what has become of mermaids, but I do know that sirens have come to land and become quite wealthy as popular performers.

You may be wondering, "All these mythical creatures, but what are YOU?" Well, as evident by my lovely wings, tiny stature, and use of magick, it's quite plain to see that I am a fairy. A sprite, if you'd prefer. Fae folk live in the forests these days, casting circles of mushrooms and flowers to dance and celebrate in, causing mischief for any human who passes by, but generally staying far from your loud and chaotic towns. Fae folk mainly live in small kingdoms, named after the tree we live in or the area of the forest we're in. I live in the Great Oak kingdom, named so because our tree is the largest oak tree in the forest. A perfect place for such a large kingdom of fairies to live and thrive. We have survived for so long due to how deep into the vast forest our tree has grown in. Most humans do not come this far, and the ones that do see nothing due to our glamour.

You see, in the Old World, humans were quite jealous of the elves, fairies, and other creatures of magick and wealth. Humans are known far and wide for their endless greed and thievery, and would hunt us down, either enslaving us or killing us to take our treasures for themselves. That is why so many of us have gone into deep hiding, to protect our descendants from the pain that humans bring. It's the highest law in the Great Oak kingdom, in fact, to never show yourself to any human. For if you are caught, they will take you back to their world and you will never be seen again.

Contrary to what you may have heard about fairies, we are not lazy. The elves are the lazy folk, drinking and feasting and reading all day long. We fairies, on the other hand, can be very busy creatures. In a kingdom as large as mine, there is always a job to be done. Cooking, cleaning, creating tools, weaving, food-collecting, and everything else that go into keeping a kingdom running safely and smoothly. Everyone has a job to do, and mine is important. I'm a seamstress. Fairies in the olden days wore no clothes, but along the way, when humans and their strange fashions were introduced to us, many decided that they wanted to look even more beautiful than they already do. Not EVERYONE wears clothes, especially in the Summer, but whenever there is a celebration or formal feast, you will see many fairies dressed in the finest spiderweb silk and flower petals. Seamstresses are very highly thought of in our kingdom, especially in the court. Anyone who can create gorgeous gowns and ensembles that the royal court will be seen in is considered especially talented.

I work very hard everyday to create designs, collect my materials, and sew them together to make something that the PRINCE may wear. My family has been sewing for the court for a VERY long time, and I take great pride in my work. It makes me immensely proud to attend a celebration and see my pieces being worn.

Ah, but...I often become quite bored. My favourite FAVOURITE thing to do is to leave the tree to go out and find materials. Spiderwebs are popular, as is silkworm silk, but those ARE rather easy to find, though they are considered the most beautiful as they are so delicate. But I adore using flowers and their petals. Unlike silk and spiderwebs, petals only last a short while. You only wear them once or twice before the petals wither and grow dark and hard. That is why so few of the ladies in the court wear them. What good is a gown that dies and becomes ugly only a short time after you wear it?

Still, they're my favourite to make, and I spend a good part of my days flying about the forest, searching for the perfect flowers, and even herbs, if I find any. The Wide Wood provides very few but lovely flowers for me. The pink plums, bearberries, magnolias, and the flowers before they bear fruit on many trees and shrubs. With such a small variety to choose from, I'm always seeking further from the boundaries of the kingdom, searching for something new, something everyone will remember me for.

So I gather supplies into my bag, including a little food if I don't return right away, and make my way out of my home. It's a very nice home, a hollow notch in the tree filled with sewing tools and my bed, which is a small nest that a cardinal abandoned filled with soft moss. Many fairies prefer nice beds, crafted by the wood-workers of a birch tree nearby and softened by woven spiderwebs. But I like the nest. It makes me feel safer and warmer on cold, Winter nights.

With my bag over my shoulder, I flit over to my doorway and look out at the view. It's the end of Winter, the Pussywillow trees beginning to bloom. We'll all be using them as pillows soon. There is no more snow on the ground, but the air is still chill, so I'm wearing my thick shawl made of the pelt of a squirrel. Those in the court would never wear pelts. Only the workers and collectors wear them, as they leave the tree the most. But I refuse to freeze to death to gather my flower petals, so I tighten my belt and take off into the brisk air.

I can't imagine how jealous humans must be of us, of our beautiful wings and ability to fly. It's said that, if a human holds you and believes they can fly, then they will, but only so long as they hold you. I've been told that holding a fairy makes you very happy, too. It's no wonder that humans kidnap us. So unhappy with their greedy, dull lives that they will steal their happiness if need be. Flying through the trees never fails to bring me joy. Seeing the forest floor from high above, the scurrying ground animals and the moss, flying side-by-side with the birds and insects, it's incredible. How could a human ever feel like this? This free?

There are markers everywhere to tell me where I am. And a lost fairy will ALWAYS be able to return to her home tree, besides. A certain patch of mushrooms here, a patch of moss there. All places I've already explored. I want to see more. And today, today I will search further. I NEED to know what else is out there!

So I fly past the boundaries of the kingdom, uncaring of what I may find. We're so deep in the forest. I doubt I'd reach the edge in only a day. I should be just fine.

There are messes of fallen leaves upon the ground, everything still sleeping and withered from Winter's icy hold. I'm not expecting to find anything blooming right now. It's still too early for Spring. I pass by a Pussywillow, unable not to stop and run my hands and cheeks all over one of the fuzzy parts. So soft, like a caterpillar.

Flying East against the Sun is where I know the edge of the forest is. The ones who have reached that far say it's a full day's journey, and that they've seen humans pass in big, machines that move very fast. It does not sound very interesting to me. I want to see what's beyond that road that the humans have created. But, not today. Today, I want to stay within the forest.

I fly lower and decide to land on a patch of moss to eat some of my honey. I HAVE been flying for some time now. Looking around, I see just a seemingly-endless amount of tall trees and shrubs. It's very quiet, even in the middle of the day. The birds are only just beginning to return from their journey down South. Soon, the forest will be filled with their melodies as they attract a mate and lay their eggs, bringing more beautiful songs into the trees.

Once I've rested and regained my strength, I'm back in the air, flying lower this time to get a better view of what's on the ground. Some leaves, but it's too late to collect them. I grab a few acorns, though. They're good for hats, and we make pancakes out of them. Ohhh, but I reach a few pine trees! I immediately dive down and find a pinecone, breaking off the pieces and stuffing them into my bag. These are uncomfortable to wear, but the furniture crafters use them to make many things. Fairies love decorations, and we often change them with the seasons.

A squirrel scurries past me, and it's when I watch it run off that I see it. A house. A human's house. It looks smaller than I'd imagined they would be. Granted, I've never seen a human before. How big are they? Does only one live there? I stay on the ground, staring at it. There are no signs that anyone is home. No smoke from the chimney, no lights from candles, and there isn't one of those large machines. Perhaps it's abandoned! Imagine what they may have left behind!

Steeling my nerves, I fly over to the house and find a window, but there are curtains blocking the view inside. I fly around, looking for a way in, letting out a shout of success when I find one window cracked open just enough for me to slide through.

Inside, the house is dark, but fairies have very good eyes. And we cast our own illumination with our fairy dust. Just looking around, I see a bed, a dresser, a table, a very small kitchen, and...a little house, just my size. With no human in sight, I hesitantly float down to it. It really is a little house! But only half! It's open like you're meant to reach inside and move things around. It looks much nicer than this little house the human lives in. Why don't they live here? Or is this made for their children? How small are human children?

Nothing is real in the little house, though, when I push on things and lay in the bed, finding it very uncomfortable and the blanket much too thin to feel warm. Why would a human make this? What is it for? The furniture in it is very nice. The table is too small for me, but it would make a lovely little bedside table. There is even a desk with frozen, clear water on it so I can see myself, and I sit there and look at my long, brown curls and large, hazelnut eyes. Yes, I was named Hazelnut due to my eyes, though many simply call me Hazel.

I wish I was able to carry this desk home with me. I suppose I could make it lighter with my magick, but that would take so much energy out of me. Such a shame. I wonder if there is any human food I could bring back with me? Flitting over to the kitchen, I open cupboards to find boxes and jars of sweet-smelling things. There is a jar of honey shaped like a bear that is almost as tall as I am! And there's this white crystal-like spice that's really, really sweet. There are a lot of spices I've never seen before, but some are sweet and others are spicy. Strange. Where do these spices come from? What kind of food does this human put them on?

I'm so caught up in my many questions that I don't sense the human returning. I fly down and hide under the bed as the door opens, frozen in fear as the human appears. I cannot tell if it's a girl or boy. They look tall and lean, with very short, light brown hair and dark brown eyes. They are wearing uncomfortable-looking, dark blue pants and a patterned shirt with long sleeves and many buttons. And their boots look much bigger than any that the men wear back home. Their face seems so different yet so similar to my kind's. Not as beautiful, with sharp lines instead of soft cheeks. Their skin is pale compared to mine, as well, not kissed by the Sun after so many years of celebrations. Do all humans look like that? They look sick.

I watch the human set down a bag and take off their boots, going to the kitchen and opening some kind of chest that is holding even more food, releasing air as cold as the wind outside into the room. They pull out a bottle of what must be water before closing the chest, moving to sit at the little table to drink from it. They say nothing. They don't really look at anything either. They just...sit and drink, utterly alone and clearly sad. What are they sad about? That they are alone here? Don't they have a kingdom of their own? Or a town to belong to? Don't they have any friends or family? I've heard that humans are commonly found living together. So why is this one here on their own?

They eventually sigh and put the half-empty bottle back into the cold chest. I freeze and rush back when they start walking towards the bed, but they don't see me, and the bed creaks when they climb up onto it. I hear the rustle of the blanket, then silence. Are they going to sleep so early? The Sun is still up! Is this because they're sad?

I stay under the bed for a long time, but the human doesn't move more than once, so they MUST be asleep, yes? Just in case, I cast a glamour on myself before emerging and floating up. The human IS asleep, thank goodness, but they still seem so unhappy. There's a wrinkle between their brows, and they even look like they're frowning. So sad, even in sleep? So strange. Fairies are very jovial creatures. Elves were, too, at one time in history. Dwarves have magnificent feasts and greatly enjoy singing and dancing. They're quite like us in that regard. But humans, at least from what I've been told by some of the elders in The Great Oak kingdom, are often so sad and miserable with their lives. They find little joy in anything other than power and wealth. Humans often eat alone, live alone, go through their whole lives alone. They barely sing, they hardly dance. Certainly not with each other.

I lift myself up onto the bed and sit, just looking at this human. What makes them sad? Is it because they're alone, out here in the forest? Do they not have any friends or family to spend time with? Oh, perhaps they are dead? Maybe that's why they're so upset.

My own parents are gone. My father abandoned my mother when I was born, leaving behind his entire heritage to grow and live life as a human. My mother passed some time ago, too heartsick to go on. We fairies are so tiny, it's difficult to handle our emotions, especially at the same time. My mother was happy to have me and watch me grow, to teach me the craft of needlework. But she felt heartbreak too great from my father's abandonment. Sadness and loneliness swallowed her whole, until she couldn't fly, couldn't use her magick, and simply wasted away. It was horrible to watch her get weaker and weaker. I tried to ease her passing with my own magick, and I swore to myself that I would never feel the heartbreak of love.

Perhaps THAT is why this human is so sad. They have felt that pain and emptiness, and it hurts ME to see them so unhappy. If I could cease their pain, just long enough for them to sleep soundly, that would be enough. So I carefully move closer, enough to feel their warm breath. Reaching up to gently place my hand on their forehead, I think of happy thoughts: my mother teaching me to fly, showing her the first dress I ever made, the pride on her face. Even remembering those moments puts a smile on my face, and I feel the warm, loving energy move through me and into the human. They gasp softly, still very much asleep, but the crease between their brows slowly disappears, colour returning to their cheeks as a soft smile graces their face, as does mine as I take my hand away. Sleep is important. And good dreams make all the difference.

I fly back down under the bed to grab my back, cast one more look at the dreaming human with that smile, and feel warmth seep into my fingers and toes at the sight. They look much more appealing when they're smiling. With pride humming in my chest, I squeeze out the cracked window and make my way back home.

"Where WERE you? You were gone for HOURS!" is the first thing I hear when I return to my bedroom. My friend, Thorn, the fastest flyer in our kingdom, is hovering in the air above my bed, arms and legs crossed and a very pouty expression on her face.

"I was out collecting things. You know I do that often," I tell her honestly, setting my heavy bag down. "I, unfortunately, didn't find anything all that interesting." Except a human, but she definitely doesn't need to know that. She would go out of her way to cause nothing but mischief for them.

"But you were gone such a long time," she pouts, blowing a long, black strand of hair out of her face. "I was getting worried."

I sigh, wishing I could simply be left alone for the rest of the day. "I appreciate your concern, Thorn, I do. But I'm expected to create the best outfits for the court. I can't simply use the same materials over and over. They'll become bored of me!"

"No one is bored of you," she assures me, flitting over to squeeze my shoulders. "You're the most talented seamstress in the kingdom. Everyone knows how creative you are. You have the most interesting ideas for dresses and costumes. But you know I worry about you when you go off on your own. You KNOW there are humans that sometimes come to the forest." I do my best to mask my fear of her finding out that I actually TOUCHED one. "You know what humans can do to us fairy folk. If they catch you, they'll take you away and suck all the magick out of you."

She huffs and pulls me into her arms. "I'm so scared of losing you like that, Hazel. You're my best friend. The only one to talk sense into me. What would I do without you?"

I hug her back just as tight. "You'd fight for me. I know you would. You'd pull your worst tricks on the human, bite and kick and pinch them until they let me go."

"You're damn right, I would," she agrees. "I wish you'd let me come with you when you go out."

"And take all the fun out of showing you what I've collected?" I tease.

"I'd rather have YOU than some floozy flower petals."

I rest my cheek on her shoulder and sigh. Thorn has always been protective of me. I was such a clumsy babe, always falling out of the tree and hurting myself. She would always catch me before I hit the ground, but if I scraped my legs or hurt my wings, she'd take care of me right away. My mother was fond of her, but told me not to do as she does, for she's quite the trickster. If you hear of humans running from the forest in fear or annoyance, it's because of Thorn playing tricks on them. She claims it's to protect us, but we really know she just likes to play. As the fastest flyer, she delivers messages to and fro. She likes knowing everyone's business, so it certainly is the perfect job for her. But she always makes time to spend with me. And I'm very grateful to her for keeping me company since Mother passed.

"I've grown a lot, you know," I remind her. "I'm not the clumsy child you once knew."

"I know. But I still feel responsible for you," she tells me, then lets me go and smiles. "Come, get changed. You must look nice for supper."

"I can't outshine the court, you know. It would be improper," I smile, watching her flit over to my wardrobe to choose a gown for me.

"You outshine them all the same," she says dismissively with a wave of her hand, then pulls out a simple, white, shawl made of spiderwebs.

I'm the only fairy accepted in the court to bare so much of my nude body. I feel far more comfortable nude, but those in the high court view nudity as an archaic thing. They are constantly clothed in the very finest fashions that I've created for them. But they think of my preference to nudity as "eccentric" and "traditional", and therefore, they allow me to wear what I please, which is generally very little.

I let Thorn dress me in the delicate shawl, and she tells me about her day running messages as she braids my hair before flying with me to the high branches, where the court holds their feasts. She isn't allowed to dine with us, due to her being of a lower class, but she is very encouraging of me being accepted amongst the royals.

She is the only one to know of my disdain for dining here every night, and she is sworn to secrecy never to let ANYONE else know about it.

The Great Oak court is comprised of the royal family -King Stone, Queen Laurelai, and Prince Cedar-, and then various members of nobility, royal bodyguards, and the like. They are very high-class and invested in art, music, and every other important aspect of our culture. For the most part, they are very kind folk. They ARE the ones that do their best to keep us safe and peaceful. And, well, they ARE the ones giving me a job. I'm very thankful for their acceptance and patronage.

I'm escorted to a speaking room, where several of dignitaries are gathered in conversation. Here in the high court, you engage with each other before being called to supper. Afterwards, we'll go to a sitting room to drink and engage for a while longer.

I recognize several of his Majesty's advisers and other high-ranking members of the court, who turn and smile when I entre the room. "Ah, Lady Hazelnut has arrived!" Lord Chamberlain, Ash, declares, his cheeks already very flushed from the pre-supper wine.

"Here I am," I smile in return, flying over to his small group. "Good evening, everyone."

"Good evening, my lady," Lady Ember replies. "Are you drinking this evening?"

"I'll have one or two glasses of wine, yes. You know I'm not the safest flyer when drunk."

The dignitaries chuckle heartily at the joke. "I understand, my lady," Lady Ember says. "Tonight is not much of a celebration. Simply another night until Spring. Stay here. I shall fetch you a glass."

"Thank you, my lady."

"I heard you were out quite late today, Lady Hazelnut," Lord Briar notes. "Your friend, Thorn, seemed intent to organize a search party."

"She's a kind friend, no doubt, but I assure you, I was perfectly safe," I assure everyone.

"Well, did you find anything interesting?" Lady North asks. They're always so excited when I find something I like, which warms my heart to know they're so fascinated by my explorations. They never truly leave the tree.

"I found a pine tree that grew the fattest pinecones I've ever seen," I say dramatically. The high court members LOVE a good story, and I'm told I'm quite good at telling them. "Too large for me to even pick up! I filled nearly half my bag with all the chips off of it. Oh! And on my way back, I was attacked by a crow!"

My audience gasps in shock. "How ever did you make it back in one piece?" Lady Ember asks, having now returned with a cup of wine for me. "I don't see a single scratch on you."

"I had to use all my strength to swing my bag at him, screaming my head off until he fled," I explain. "All he took from me was a few strands of hair, thankfully. I nearly lost an eye!"

"You really should take a guard with you," Lord Briar advises me. "You really are such a tiny thing, my lady. I'm amazed you haven't so much as broken a wing."

"I was raised well, I hope?"

"Indeed," Lady North declares, lifting her glass. "To Lady Hazelnut's safe travels!"

"Here, here!" we cheer, clinking our cups together.

We chat for a short while longer about more mundane things, like how the kingdom is running and the minor issues being dealt with over the course of the day. Finally, we're called to the dining room, which is the second largest room in the tree -the first being the ballroom for parties when it's too cold to go outside. The bark here is so shiny, you can see your reflection, the table long and wide to accommodate all of us and our food. I take my place near the far end of the table, waiting beside everyone else as the Page announces the arrival of the King, Queen, and Prince.

King Stone is exactly as you'd imagine a fairy king to be, if you've ever imagined a fairy king. He's tall and imposing, but with kind eyes and a loud voice that is easily heard by his subjects. Queen Lauralei is beautiful, of course, with flowing, golden hair and bright, blue eyes. She delights all who gaze upon her. And finally, Prince Cedar appears behind his parents. Every bit as tall as his father, with the golden hair of his mother and her blue eyes, he's a very handsome man. Many girls tell me I'm very lucky to be able to dine with him, even though I've told them that he and I sit on opposite ends of the table and never interact over dinner. I'm more than happy to not make a fool of myself where the royal family can see. At least the advisers think I'm simply entertaining when I make jokes and give details about designs I have for any upcoming celebration. We have many throughout the year.

We wait for the King and Queen to welcome us to supper and take their seats before we sit as well. Food and drink is quickly set on the table by staff, and conversations about court duties and other such high-class things lull the room into a peaceful setting. I do very much enjoy partaking in the court traditions. I enjoy entertaining the nobility and hearing the inner workings of our kingdom. Even though I'm simply a seamstress, being at the high dining table makes me feel more important. Like I'm a part of the bigger picture.

"Prince Cedar is apparently asking about your travels today," Lord Briar informs me when word has reached our end of the table.

My stomach twists, my smile suddenly shaky. "Oh? Why would such a brave prince be concerned about little, old me? Does he not have other things to worry about?" Damn, that last sentence came out a little snippish.

"He's quite enamoured with you, you know," Lady North grins. "He often pulls you aside to speak in private, does he not?"

My stomach twists tighter, my hands beginning to sweat as my face flushes. "He simply asks about what I have planned for his attire at the next celebration." That's not a COMPLETE lie.

"Is that ALL you two talk about?" Lady North pushes.

No, but I refuse to speak of it to anyone but Thorn. "Just that," I lie, pushing aside my second cup of wine. The last thing I want to do is get drunk enough to confess everything.

The rest of supper goes smoothly, thank goodness, but...after is what I dread. I try to stay as close to Lady Ember, my closest friend here in the high court, keeping myself within arm's reach of her. But I can't escape him.

"Lady Hazelnut."

My stomach twists so tight that I nearly double over with the pain of it. But I've come to learn how to hide my true feelings, unlike other fairies. So I put on an open face and turn to see Prince Cedar, giving me his most charming smile.  "Yes, my Prince?"

"I heard that you had a scare from a crow," he says. "You must tell me all about it."

I swallow past the lump in my throat. "Surely, you would rather hear it from Lady Ember. You know my memory is not the best, and hers is wonderful."

But my breath catches when he shakes his head. "Nonsense. You're the most dramatic storyteller." He offers his arm, and I stare at the limb like it will burn me if I touch it. "Come, my lady. I promise not to keep you long."

A lie. An outright lie. But I can't say "no" to the Prince. It would ruin my relations with the court. So, putting on a strained smile, I place my hand in the crook of his elbow. "If you say so."

My heart feels like a bird in a cage, and I desperately try not to show it as I let Prince Cedar lead me out to a balcony. The crisp, night air makes my head a little clearer. I very much hope that the young Prince has not had much to drink tonight.

"Isn't it lovely tonight? The moonlight shining through the leafless trees," he describes, looking out into the night.

"I can't wait until Spring," I reply.

"Ah, yes, so you can make your famous flower petal ensembles," he chuckles, and the sound sends a shudder through me. "Now, tell me about this crow who came so close to taking away our loveliest seamstress?"

"He must have simply been bored," I say blandly, all of my normal theatrics gone. "He dived at me, managed to snag a few strands of hair, then flew off when I fought back."

The Prince hums. "You're always so different with the others than you are with me. You seem so excited and happy with everyone else. What makes ME any different?"

Oh, you damn well know WHY. "You're the Prince, your highness. I must be respectful towards you."

"Is this why you pull away when I try to touch you?" he asks, reaching his hand out to hold mine, but I pull away. "Why do you do that?" he insists. "You KNOW of my feelings for you, Hazelnut. I have been courting you for ages, yet you deny my every attempt."

I take a step back when he turns to me with anger emanating from his aura. "Your highness, I understand your admiration of me, but I canNOT accept your feelings. I'm sorry."

"But why?" he demands, his voice getting louder. "I can give you everything you've ever desired. I will give you all of my heart. You will want for nothing! Why do you not love me in return?"

My lungs are beginning to hurt, the cold air biting my throat. I glance back and start moving towards the door. If I can just get away from him and back in public, I can escape. "The heart can't be bought, your highness," I tell him. "Your wealth and status don't matter to me. I can't explain why I don't love you. I simply don't. PLEASE accept my true feelings, your highness."

I'm in the hall now, but he comes right after me, his aura becoming even redder. "Any woman would KILL to be in your position! I have NUMEROUS ladies vying for my attention!"

"Then cast your gaze on THEM and give up on me!" I urge, surging off down the hall faster than he can chase me. He knows better than to cause a scene in front of other folk.

I make a hasty excuse to my friends that I am feeling tired after a very long day, and as soon as they bid me "good-night", I leave the court and fly out, wanting to put as much distance between myself and the Prince as possible. So I fly and fly, uncaring about crows or owls or any other birds. Tears blur my vision, and I hastily wipe them away, but more simply take their place. My aura is a dark blue when I look at my hands, and I rub them together to get rid of the feeling of his hand just barely brushing mine. Enough to make me feel dirty.

He's disgusting. Everything I could hate about a man. Arrogant, conceited, aggressive, and uncooperative. I pity his mother and father. I can't help but wonder where they went wrong with him. Why would a prince go after a seamstress?! I'm only considered high-class due to my work being so popular amongst the court. Nothing more! I don't come from wealth or power. The only reason he must see anything in me worthy to dedicate his time to is my beauty. But there are plenty of ladies far more beautiful than I am! And who come from better backgrounds. Ones who could give him the love he desires. Why would he continue to waste his time after nearly a YEAR of me rejecting his affections? Why ME?

I stop when I smell smoke. Where am I? I flew too far. But where is the smoke coming from? A forest fire? Humans?

I follow the smoke and find the house of the sad human from earlier. Now there's a fire in the chimney, the lights on. Are they still awake this late at night? I fly over to a window and look through it, finding the hot stove now lit, the human sitting at their small table and whittling. There's something different about them. They look...focused. Alert. Damn, did I make it hard for them to sleep now? I should have checked how much of my magick I was giving them. I fly around the little house and find one window slightly ajar, squeezing myself into the very warm home. The crackle of the fire in the stove is soothing to my cold wings, and the soft shhh sound of the human whittling is gentle on my ears after the night I just had.

I can't get too close to the stove without burning myself, but I also can't reveal myself to the human, so I quietly fly over to the bed and slip underneath it. Ah, it's warm here. And quiet. The energy in here is much nicer. I'll just...rest here for a short while...where I'm safe...

[monstersandmaw]

Footsteps in the Snow - Chapter Eight

Lein and Argis spend a quiet day in Morthal, and Argis (finally) gets his first reading lesson.

<—- Previous Chapter | Table of Contents

When Lein woke, he was groggy but surprisingly warm. It took him a while to remember what had happened, but when he did, he cracked his mismatching eyes open and realised his head was resting on the mountainous shoulder of his housecarl. He didn’t fight to suppress the grin that split his face. Gods, this felt so right. Argis’ shoulder was warm, and he smelled incredible. His skin was tough and tanned hardly marred by a mark on the front, unlike the back, and Lein traced his fingertips tentatively up his sternum, enjoying the light dusting of hair on his chest.

Argis, with his head tipped back, lips parted, was snoring softly, his blond hair spread out on the pillow beneath him, and one hand on his gently rising and falling stomach, was deeply asleep. Lein had never been this close to him, and he was lying on Argis’ right-hand side, trapped between housecarl and wooden wall, so there wasn’t much room to wriggle free, and not much he could do except lie there quietly and stare at him.

He never wanted to move, ever again.

Argis’ eyelashes, gently twitching as his eyes roved lazily back and forth beneath his lids, were long and a few shades darker than his blond hair, but they only held Lein’s gaze for a moment before he began to let his eyes wander over the lines of the red tattoo on his cheek. He had seen it on a few people on his travels around Skyrim, but he didn’t know if it held any meaning. He did know it must have been extremely painful to have the work done on his face though.

The man was clearly very deeply asleep, as Lein sneezed quietly if unexpectedly, and he didn’t so much as change his breathing in reaction, so Lein decided to spare Argis the awkwardness of waking up still cradling his thane, and drew on his reserves of magicka. He used it to cast a muffling spell on himself, just in case he disturbed the unconscious housecarl by some movement. And as gorgeous as this all was, nature’s first call of the day was already tugging at him. He groaned in reluctance, but the sound was almost silent, muted by the spell.

Silent as a shadow, he slid along to the end of the bed and climbed off onto the flagstone floor. The spell would not last very long, so he recovered Argis’ body made the most of his time as a silent ghost to dress and slip out of the door into the main hall of the inn. No one was around, though there was a steaming mug of tea on the end of the bar, and he went to the bathroom to go through his perfunctory morning ablutions.

Jonna was stoking the fire in the main hall and looked up when Lein closed the door behind him.

“I think my housecarl is still asleep,” Lein said after wishing her a good morning. “Knowing him, he will be cross with me for not waking him,” he added a cheeky grin. “But I would like to go for a walk alone anyway. Would you be so kind as to tell him when he wakes that I am going out of town to the north a little way? I want to collect one or two alchemical ingredients from the swamp.”

“Aye, I’ll tell him.” She watched him with curious, dark eyes, but said nothing further.

Lein thanked her, and stepped out, inhaling the perfume of silent deathbells, their purple heads delicate as folded paper. He caught the soft chiming of a nirnroot nestled in the lea of a building nearby. There were hundreds of the pale, sonorous plants in the swamp. No wonder Idgrod and her family all had strange visions; it was enough to drive anyone a bit mad. He ignored it, and stumped along the road, heading north. Ice cracked and fractured beneath his boots, and patches of freezing fog hung low in the hollows of the landscape, drifting eerily between the trees, and as Lein crossed the bridge, leaving the noises of the waking town behind him, he yawned.

He was tired, but somehow he felt more rested than he usually did on waking, and he tried not to wonder whether it had anything to do with being curled up with his housecarl for most of the night. He also tried not to dwell on how perfectly his head had fitted into the curve of Argis’ shoulder, how perfect his arm had felt resting across the muscles of Argis’ taut stomach, how perfect Argis’ sleeping expression was, how… He tripped on a loose stone and schooled himself to be more careful. It would not do to stumble into a bog and freeze to death just because he was still crushing on his housecarl like some teenage girl mooning over a cute city guard. Besides, he was done being stupid as a spring hare now. No more accidents.

He stepped silently off the path and moved beneath the frost-blasted trees. Drajkmyr marsh was cold and foreboding at any hour of the day, but in the chilly light of dawn it was especially eerie. He kept a wary eye open for the shimmering movements of vampires and other creatures who liked to move in the half-light. Hanging moss dangled off some of the branches, frozen stiff in the early morning, and the frost-rimed grass was brittle as blown glass as he pushed carefully through the scrub in search of fungi.

His alchemist’s gloves were not as warm as the supple leather of his Nightingale ones, but they offered better protection against the toxins of the plants and mushrooms he needed to collect. He had little idea of passing time as he set about searching for the various ingredients he was running low on, and as he slipped his last cuttings into the gleaner’s bag at his hip, the morning light caught the frost on the edge of an old standing stone and it flashed and glittered like thousands of diamonds. He drew up short at the sight of it: a little moment of delicate beauty in the dark, dingy murk of the swamp.

The distant bustle of the village, the creek of the mill, and the slap of water against the little fishing boats they kept moored to the pontoons and raised walkways, began to rise in volume as the morning progressed, and he realised he should get back before he upset Argis. Thanes who took housecarls with them were expected not to leave them behind. It was insulting.

When he rejoined the path and began to stride along, the leather of his soft boots darkened by the dew and melting frost, he saw that Argis had left the inn and was walking casually up the road in his direction. He didn’t seem angry, his arms hanging loose by his side, though he was wearing his steel armour, and strapped to his back was that massive two-hander. Instead of having it half tied back, his blond hair was loose, and he shoved his huge hand through it to lift it back off his face.

Lein smiled at the sight of him, and as he did so, Argis looked up. The smile he offered in return was soft, almost shy, and he stopped, choosing to wait for Lein to reach him instead of joining him.

“Morning,” Argis said gently as Lein drew level with him. He eyed the apothecary’s satchel at Lein’s hip and asked, “Find what you were looking for?” His voice was soft as fresh-cut hay, warm and slightly husky.

“I did,” Lein nodded. “I assume Jonna passed on my message then?”

“She did,” he said.

“Have you had breakfast?”

Argis shook his head.

“Neither have I. A bowl of porridge or perhaps even some eggs and bacon beside that fire would be very nice right about now, I think.”

Argis merely nodded once, Nordic braids clinking, smiled, and fell into step beside him. Lein desperately wanted to ask him about the previous night. He ached to know how Argis felt about his thane asking him to climb into bed with him like he was some pathetic child suffering the effects of a bad dream, how Argis felt about his falling asleep there, how – or rather what – Argis felt about him, but instead, he bit his lips together and sighed.

“Sleep ok?” Argis asked a few paces later, and Lein nearly fell over his own feet.

“Very well,” he said stiffly, trying not to give too much away. “And… you?”

Argis chuckled. The sound of it made Lein think of the warm rasp of a saw through pine, rich, biting, and full of energy. Argis didn’t look down as he answered, his gaze fixed on the rocks above the town to the south, and he said, “I did. Though you didn’t get to make the take proper advantage of having the bigger bed…”

“I was much warmer for it, I’d wager,” he said cautiously, nudging his elbow into Argis’ armoured waist, the little spark of hope flaring brighter for a moment and fuelling his bravery.

Again, Argis rumbled a laugh, but he offered no reply this time. Was it the chilly air that had lent the apples of his cheeks that colour?

They tramped up the steps to the inn and Argis held the door open for Lein to step through first. As he passed in front of the massive warrior’s barrel chest, in a rush of bravery or stupidity, Lein brought his palm to the cold steel and pressed lingering fingers to the metal, smiling. “Thank you,” he muttered, turning his face away before Argis could see the blush in his pale skin.

Jonna was polishing pewter tankards behind the bar at the far end of the hall when they were both inside, and she smiled at them, adding, “Ready for some breakfast, I assume?”

“Please,” Lein nodded. “I’ll just dump my stuff in the room and I’ll be right back out in a moment.”

Argis nodded and took a seat at the bench.

When Lein emerged from their room, he saw Jonna standing with a hand on Argis’ shoulder, murmuring something in his ear. Lein paused, watching with a softly curious smile on his face, as Argis tipped his head back and barked a laugh, the little beads in his braids flashing in the low light. She patted his shoulder, laughing as well, and when she turned away, Lein saw two plates of egg and bacon steaming on the table, with a basket of fresh loaves and a little plate with some fresh butter.

As he went to take the seat opposite his housecarl, Lein passed close to Argis, as much by necessity as desire, forced to do so by the proximity of the table to the tall, carved column that supported the roof. “What was that about?” he asked as he sat down with a grunt, jutting his chin at the far end of the room where Jonna was fussing with some bottles of cold, pressed apple juice for them.

“Oh, nothing,” he muttered, looking down at his cutlery. “Just offering me some advice.” If his large fingers fumbled with it slightly as he picked his knife and fork up and began eating, Lein offered no comment. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to press him.

Jonna returned with the tankards of juice and two ceramic mugs of steaming tea, one black for Lein, one with milk in for Argis, and set them down on the table. “You boys got far to travel today?” she asked, lowering the tray in her left hand and parking her right on Argis’ massive shoulder again.

“No,” Lein said. “Perhaps fifteen miles or so. I’m heading home for the first time in a while.”

“Oh, where’s home then?”

“Windstad Manor, to the north of here,” he said, and her eyes widened in surprise or recognition, or both.

“Forgive me,” she said, letting go of Argis and nodding a more formal bow, “Thane. I had no idea you were a thane of Hjaalmarch.”

“Please,” Lein all but scoffed, “There’s no need for any of that. I am a thane of the march, it’s true, but really, there’s no need…”

“Valdimar is your housecarl, no?”

“That’s right,” Lein smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing him again. I hope he’s not caused any trouble while I’ve been away.” He spoke with a playful light in his eyes, and she forgot her embarrassment at her potential faux-pas and laughed.

“Oh he’s a darling,” she chuckled. “He stopped by here only last week with that lovely fiancée of his. They came to buy one or two things for the house I believe, and to order some more lumber to repair a pen or something that had been damaged in one of the autumn storms. Oh he did make me laugh.”

Lein’s face cracked into a wide smile. “I’m glad.”

“Well,” she said, eyeing Argis’ almost-finished plate and Lein’s breakfast that was barely touched. “I mustn’t stand here yacking all day, or you’ll never get on. It’s a pleasure to have had you here in my inn, thane.”

“Please,” he said, “It’s just Lein.”

She nodded and left them to it.

Argis sat back as he swiped a chunk of white roll around his plate to mop up the last of his egg yolk and some of the bacon grease. His gaze was steady and for once, he seemed to have forgotten his shyness about his blind eye. Lein tried to look him in his right eye, but he was aware that the iris of his left, once hazel and now veiled behind a milky film of damage, did not quite match the focus of his right. It drifted slightly upwards. For some reason that Lein could not articulate, it made his stomach flip over slightly. The man was massive and powerful, with muscles that would make any maiden swoon to see, and any man think twice about, and yet as his rough hands rested around the curve of his mug, cradling his tea, there was a delicacy to him that made it hard to breathe. Added to that the perceived vulnerability of his blindness, and he was an intoxicating mix of steel and silk, power and kindness.

“Septim for your thoughts?” he chuckled softly, and Lein’s cheeks warmed when realised he’d been staring.

Settling for a vague kind of honesty, Lein sighed and said, “I was thinking how much more there is to you than people must give you credit for, that’s all. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” he smiled, a humble bashfulness now in those eyes. “I just wondered where you went for a minute there…” His face was bright with silent laughter, and Lein felt relief slide through his stomach like a lump of melting ice.

“Listen,” he said. “With all my floundering around in puddles of late…”

Argis huffed a quick laugh at that, but let Lein continue.

“I’m conscious that I’ve let you down in a number of ways, no, hear me out,” he added when Argis made to contradict him. The housecarl nodded and fell into silent, though not sullen, obedience. “I would like to make good on that promise I made to you back in Markarth.”

“What promise is that, thane?”

“A promise to teach you your letters.”

“Oh,” Argis breathed. The exclamation was so small and soft that Lein almost missed it, but Argis let out another little laugh, and added in a gruff, scratchy baritone, “Sure. I’d like that. I don’t want to delay us though.”

Lein shook his head. “No, it’s no delay. It’s still murky and misty out, and the marsh might still be crawling with vampires until the sun burns most of the mist off at midday.” Argis looked a little pale at the mention of vampires, but other than a shift in colour, he gave no other reaction. “What say we start here? There’s plenty of room on this table, and it’s private enough in here during the day that I imagine we won’t be disturbed.”

The colour returned two-fold to Argis cheeks, the scars standing out against the rest of his weathered face, and Lein smiled as he drew in a deep breath and smiled shyly. “Thank you,” Argis said awkwardly. “I… I can’t express how much… I mean… I never had the chance as a boy, and then… in the barracks, it… they didn’t…” His face reddened until Lein thought he might burst into flame, and he looked away, glaring into his nearly empty mug, as though the rest of his courage lay in there.

“I understand,” Lein said.

How many times had he encountered men and women of astounding intelligence who had simply never learned to read? And how many times had men and women of elite and academic backgrounds sneered down their noses at those who had simply not been afforded the same privileges they had? Recalling those cold glances, those empty giggles, was enough to make his hackles rise, and as he looked down at Argis, insides clearly writhing with emotion, he saw the same history in his housecarl. Something stabbed in his chest to think of Argis being mocked, called stupid, simply for not being able to read.

“Argis, it’s not your fault that you never had the opportunity, and whether you’ve been taught to read yet or not bears no reflection on your intelligence.”

Argis looked as though he might cry at that, his eyes sparkling and a muscle in his neck and jaw working as he ground his teeth together. “Thank you,” he finally rasped, unable to look Lein in the eye.

Lein smiled and touched him on the shoulder as he slid out of the space between table and column and paused a while longer. The steel plate beneath his fingertips was cold, but he could feel the heat Argis was throwing off. There was a pull to it that drew him in and made him want to press his body close. “I mean it,” he said, and left to fetch the paper, quill and inkpot he would need, as well as one of his favourite printed books.

As much as he thought Argis could use the time alone to compose himself, he needed a few minutes to himself as well.

When he returned, Argis was his usual gruff, silent self, staring off into the depths of the ceramic mug that was resting empty in his big hands. His knuckly, scarred fingers cradled it as gently as though it were a tiny bird.

He jumped when Lein reappeared and laughed. “You’re so quiet in those boots, thane,” he muttered.

“That’s why I wear ‘em,” Lein grinned. “Good for sneaking up behind ugly old draugr in tombs and stinking frost trolls in caves, among other things.”

“Which of those categories do I fit into then?” he laughed, starting to shuffle along the bench so that his thane could sit beside him instead of opposite him. That new position, however, would have put Lein on Argis’ left side, his blind side, so Lein stopped him with a silent hand on his right shoulder and nipped behind him to the other side to slide onto the bench on his right.

“Neither, Argis,” Lein said seriously as he sat. “And I have no desire to try and evade you.” Before Argis could unpick the other layer of meaning to that, Lein spread out the roll of paper and weighted it down in the top corners with an empty tankard and a mug. “Now, before I get going, do you know any of the letters?”

Mutely Argis shook his head and then, after a little hesitant breath, added, “Not really. I mean… I recognise a few of them, but…”

“Alright, I’ll stick with my plan, but if I’m going at a pace that doesn’t suit, or you have any questions, just butt in, ok?”

Argis’ lips hitched into a lopsided grin, and he nodded.

“I plan to familiarise you with the vowels and consonants of Tamrileic, and how the same vowel can have different pronunciations etc. and then we’ll go from there.”

Argis nodded in understanding, a tense kind of readiness saturating his body, seeming to swell the muscles of his arms and back so that he sat straighter, drawing himself up almost as if for a fight. Lein resisted the urge to tell him to breathe and relax, and began.

The housecarl was anything but stupid. As Lein had suspected, he was as quick with his mind as he was with a blade, and in no time, had set aside his embarrassment and hurled himself into this new challenge with all the raw determination of a snow bear.

Lein worked on Argis’ recognition of letters, with Lein printing them clearly, though not patronisingly large, on the white paper, in his own neat hand. He also wrote them in his normal, cursive script to show Argis how they might look in every-day handwriting. Mostly, however, he stuck to precisely-printed letters, and in no time, Argis could recognise all the letters of the Tamrileic alphabet, and give all the possible pronunciations associated with them.

He handed the quill over to Argis, who looked at the sharpened goose-feather as though he expected it to sprout the rest of the bird and start flapping wildly in his lap. “Your turn,” Lein said.

Argis chewed his lower lip adorably as he scratched out the letters of the alphabet in a shaky, sputtering hand, sitting back with a grunt when he finally reached the end of Lein’s reference sheet. He’d mirrored a couple of them, but scrubbed them out almost immediately on recognising that, and redid them. It hadn’t helped that Lein was left-handed, but they made do.

In total, they had worked solidly for nearly two hours, and he could sense Argis’ flickering concentration. He was, however, determined to end on a high. As Lein made a noise of amused epiphany in his throat, his housecarl looked at him expectantly, and Lein grinned. They had also worked on phonetic recognition of letters, and Lein said, “This time, I would like you to try and write down the letters that correspond to the sounds I’m going to say. Then we’ll finish.”

Argis nodded, thick brows furrowing with the final effort of rallying his faltering concentration.

“Remember to think about the sounds I’m making, not the individual letters this time,” he said, since they had already covered Argis drawing letters as Lein called them aloud. “It might mean a combination of letters, but it won’t be too hard, I promise.” And as Argis looked warily confident, Lein began to speak, syllable by syllable. “Ar...” Although he was unable to roll his ‘r’, Lein made sure it was clear that he wanted an ‘a’ and an ‘r’.

His blue and brown eyes sank to the page to watch Argis refer to the roll of paper with the full alphabet on, before beginning with an ‘a’ and then, hesitantly, an ‘r’. He looked uncertainly up at Lein, who was already nodding and beaming, and he inhaled with a renewed confidence when he saw it.

“Gi,” Lein said, still smiling.

Argis’ eyes narrowed slightly, cottoning on to what he was being made to write, and Lein did not miss the way his hand began to tremble and his heart rate picked up, the skin below his Adam’s apple pulsing visibly.

“S,” Lein finished.

The quill spat a few drops of ink when Argis finished the ‘s’ of his name, but he turned to look back at Lein with a look of tearful wonder on his handsome, scarred and tattooed face.

Lein smirked a lopsided grin, and chuckled. “I don’t think you need me to tell you what you just wrote…”

“No,” he said, chest swelling with pride as he stared back at the wobbly letters. “Thank you.”

Lein gave one more gentle laugh and laced his fingers above his head, leaning back where he sat on the bench and stretching his spine and stomach out with a grunt. “Enough for one day,” he said, extricating his lean legs from the bench and table and standing. “I knew we’d cover a lot of ground, but I wasn’t sure we’d get quite this far.” He put a hand on Argis’ shoulder and squeezed, even though it was cold metal beneath his fingers and not hard muscle, and added, “Well done. I mean that. We’ll be done in no time at this rate.”

Argis beamed and blushed, looking back at his wibbly scrawls and then at Lein’s self-assured writing. “Got a ways to go yet,” he muttered, but Lein could tell he was pleased.

Without another word, Lein stepped away and crossed to the fire-pit, which was crackling and softly spitting sparks from the logs, and rubbed his hands together.

“You cold?” Argis asked, genuine surprise in his tone. He rose as well, folding the paper in half and leaving it on the table.

Ruefully, Lein chuckled. “I’m always cold, Argis.”

“You sure you’re not a vampire?” he asked, narrowing his eyes dramatically. “You are kind of pale, you know?”

“No,” he said lightly. “Not a vampire. Just a pathetic excuse for a Skaal.”

Argis snorted and headed away to their room without a word, emerging a moment later with a jacket in his hands. Lein watched without moving as Argis crossed to the fire, coming up behind Lein and holding it out to him, almost like he would hold a coat for a lady. “Here,” he said.

“Thanks,” Lein smiled, burrowing down into the fur-lined jacket.

His breath caught when Argis squeezed his shoulders for the briefest of moments, before clearing his throat and stepping back.

“I’d better go pack my stuff up,” he said, his voice suspiciously hoarse, and he retreated without another word.

Chapter Nine

[isleofancients]

a tired but very genuine smile for Edwin, before heading the way he indicates. "just so you know? you have absolutely been racking up 'good partner points' all day. redeeming them for more snuggles and smooches later is absolutely encouraged."

"Look forward to it!" He beams, leading you up the smooth wooden stairs with their swirling knots, down a steadily dimming hallway as the lights go out with a flick of a switch and luminescent mushrooms fill the space with their glow, and through a doorway lined with small symbols covered with moss, shimmering gently as they recognize you and your child as friend and safe.

The bed is certainly large, with sturdy wooden legs still covered in bark, covered with a quilt like the fall forest full of patterns and soft loving intent, the fabric almost familiar, smooth like the shine from an error's strings.

"October made my blanket, she's Rosy's partner." Edwin smiles, pulling back the covers, the room lit only by a shaded window and the candle-like flickering of your little star. "It was my moving in gift."

A few tentacles from the shadows dig through the closet for some extra pillows and he fluffs them up, putting them on the bed.

[readytobakebread]

A grove of mushroom reaching for the sky and, in its center, a bed of moss with a soft grey blanket made from the material my cat enjoys and a comfortable pillow.

i don’t have a brain actually. my head is just filled with lots and lots of dried flowers

[nightmarist]

Freyr & Personal Correspondences

Kennings & Epithets

He who Gives Wealth

He of Beauty, He of Grace

He of Mounds and Mud

He of All Seeds Sown

He of Rot and Riches

He who Drowns The Pure

He who Claims the Drowned

He of Phallus and Flowers

Hermano de Jardines

Brother of Gardens

Glorious of the Gods

Harvest God

Bright God, Shining God

The Sacrifice Priest

Local Cultus in New Mexico

Freyr of the Sunset

Freyr of the Desert Flower

Freyr of the Cholla

Freyr of the Gentle Breeze

Freyr of the Bleached Bone

Freyr of the Gourd

Freyr of the Antelope

Freyr of the Scenic Route

He who Brings the Blessed Rains

He who Watches Pastures

Animals

Cows and Bulls

Boars and Pigs

Llamas

Garden Snakes

Tarantula Hawks

Various Pigeons

Hummingbirds

Snails and Slugs

Leeches

Earthworms

Ladybugs

Caterpillars

Plants

Root vegetables

Potatoes

Hybrid Tea Roses

Lavender

Jasmine

Datura

Cactus

Aloe

Yucca

Home grown fruits 

Mushrooms

Mold

Moss

Sounds

ASMR triggers

Quiet breathing

Quiet snoring

Pleasant humming

Crickets at midday

Gentle breeze and rustling leaves

Soft, slow rain

Natural waters bubbling

Cowbells and farm animals in the distance

Music

Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge 

Animals by Maroon 5

Kagerou by BUCK-TICK

Desire by Meg Myers (Hucci Remix) 

In the Dark by Poets & Pornstars 

Partners in Crime by Poets & Pornstars  

Andromeda by Gorillaz

Immolare by GPKISM

Kugui by sukekiyo

Devotional Playlist - Phallus && Flowers 

Foods

Chocolate

Pears

Cherries

Kiwis

Bananas

Watermelon

Nopales

Aloe juices

Fruit Salad

Wine-cooked meats

Various nuts

Snail

Oyster

Salmon

Tilapia

Cilantro & Lemon Zest

Chile

Gummy Worms

Roses

Studies

Gardening

Topiary

Flower Arranging

Floriology

Botany

Composting & Recycling

Sexuality & Gender

Shibari & Knot tying

Neuropathology

Sociology

Emotional Psychology

Horticulture

Economics in Agriculture

Animal Husbandry

Body

Red, Black, Silver, Green, Pink, Cream

Roses, flowers

Sundresses and flowing clothes

Mud-caked working clothes

Gardening gloves

Pastel Romper Trend

Jean and Leather overalls

Leather

Latex

Ribbons

Cuffs and Chokers

Shibari

Lingerie

Bows

Crop tops

Garter belts

Pearls

Woody & Green Colognes

Floral & Green Perfumes

Well-made citrus scents

Miscellany Others

Wearing lingerie underneath your normal clothes

Subtle fashion such as intricate tie bars or pearls

Homegrown food from your garden

The patterns of natural vines

Fresh Produce from the local town

Miles and miles of free range

The Amish town in the distance that has no roads leading to it

The blooms of cacti and yucca

Very warm baths

Piles and piles of stuffed animals

Comforters, pillows, and a fantastically plush bed 

Sensuality and Sexuality both

Aftercare 

Personal Thoughts

[[ The facets of Freyr I see aren’t the agricultural kind, probably due to my location. But he does live in the tended gardens, in the sun and the light showers that keep the mountains and arroyos alive here. He is compost and rot that helps the forest and gardens thrive. He is roses and tomatoes, soil and cactus, as well as sexual freedom and love of all sorts, self-growth and care, and non-monetary wealth. He breaks down and rots what needs to be used to help me grow. Butterflies are beautiful but they eat rot, too. ]]

[the-hangman-macabre]

An Unlikely Team

Author’s note: This is just a little piece I wrote for a writing contest a while back, I figured I’d post it here as well.

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Over eight hundred thousand children go missing every year. Some are kidnapped, some run away, and some are murdered. But for others, it’s something far, far worse.

Danny was five years old when he lost his first tooth. Under normal circumstances, a child would tell their parents, hide the tooth under their pillow, the parents would sneak in to replace it with money, and in the morning the child would gleefully cheer that the tooth fairy had come in the night. Unfortunately for Danny, these weren’t normal circumstances. You see, Danny’s family lived on the outskirts of town, on top of a hill, at the edge of an old forest. What this meant was that for Danny, the tooth fairy actually came.

The only real difference, of course, was that neither of the parents had been the one to take the tooth. Each of them just assumed the other had taken care of it. Only later on down the years did one other slight difference develop, that being that Danny held onto his belief in the tooth fairy much more firmly than other kids his age, since every little experiment children usually attempt at a certain age to disprove the tooth fairy’s existence, such as not telling their parents about the tooth or simply locking the bedroom door, proved no hindrance towards that which visited Danny. Therefore, at the age of twelve, he was not surprised in the slightest, on the night he lost his last tooth, when he was awoken by a little ball of light with wings.

“Danny…. Danny…. Wake up Danny!” sang the serene voice of the little thing hovering not too far from his face.

“Are you… the tooth fairy?” muttered Danny as his eyes drifted open.

“Why of course I am, you silly goose! After all, I’m far too small to be Santa Claus. Now wipe that sleep from your eyes, I’ve got a special surprise for you!”

Danny sat up, blinking his eyes a few times. “Don’t you just leave the money under my pillow?”

“Why of course, but I’ve got something extra special this time! Now follow me, I’ll take you to it!” The little glowing orb fluttered towards his bedroom door.

Excitement and curiosity burned away the last remnants of sleep, and Danny hopped out of bed and followed, his bare feet pattering upon the floor as he rushed to keep up.

Noticing she was getting ahead of him, the fairy stopped briefly, hovering over the stairs as she waited. “Hurry up! He doesn’t like to be kept waiting!”

Quickening his pace, Danny followed the fairy down the stairs and nearly out the front door before he stopped, realizing what she had said. “Wait a minute, who doesn’t like to be kept waiting?”

The fairy stopped abruptly, before flying closer to Danny, stopping just in front of his eyes, bobbing gently in the wind as she spoke “Why, my friend of course!” Her cheerful glow pulsed slowly “He’s waiting for you with a special surprise, and you wouldn’t want to be late, now would you?” At that, she continued to lead the way.

Danny yawned. Perhaps he was still tired after all. With a blurry mind he continued to follow. After all, fairies couldn’t lie. Everyone knew that.

Of course, they could always bend the truth.

Danny barely noticed as the soft grass of his backyard gave way to the rough undergrowth of the forest. As the fairy darted back and forth around the dark moonlit trees, his dreary eyes struggled to keep up. The turns came faster, and faster, and faster and-

He slammed head first into a tree, and let vision fade to black against the clear sky.

Owls howled against the whistling wind.

Ancient tree branches scraped against each other.

A wolf howled at the moon.

Bat’s wings fluttered in the night air.

And something else moved in the shadows, darting behind the trees. Something dark. Something dead.

A semi-familiar glow pierced through the darkness of unconsciousness as a semi-familiar voice pierced against his ears.

“Hello? Danny? Helloooo?” rang the fairy’s sing-song voice.

Danny tilted his head up, grunting in reply as he rubbed his sore forehead.

“Oh, good, you’re okay.” The fairy let out a high-pitched chuckle “Looks like you got a little too enthusiastic there! Better remember to watch where you’re going, or you never know what you might run into!”

Danny pushed himself off the ground, still rubbing his sore head and blinking his eyes against the fog of the forest. “Ugh, I don’t feel so good.” On his feet, he tried to focus on the fairy but his head kept swimming.

“Don’t worry” cheered the orb of light “we’re almost there, and once we’re there my friend will get you feeling right as rain, now come on!”

The little orb fluttered off amid the twisted roots and vines of the deep forest, and Danny followed, his bare feet squelching upon mushrooms as he walked.

The passage of the two did not go unnoticed. On all sides of them were to be seen sickly black vines, old knotted trees reaching and grabbing in the wind, thick moss that snared and snatched upon the soles of one’s feet, and unplaceable red lights piercing through the fog. Danny, of course, didn’t notice any of this. He was focused entirely on the fairy. He had to be, else he worried he’d lose her in the fog. It was a thick fog, the sort that comes and goes without warning while leaving mystery in its wake. Come to think of it, Danny couldn’t remember when it had rolled in.

“And we’re here!” said the fairy as they entered a large clearing. In the center of this clearing was an old wooden cottage.

“This is it? This is the surprise?” said Danny as he glanced across the clearing.

“No, silly” chuckled “This is just where my friend lives. He’s waiting inside with your surprise. And we don’t want to keep him waiting now, do we?” With that, she fluttered over to the door of the cottage, Danny following somewhat reluctantly. “Go on, open it!” said the fairy as Danny approached the entrance.

At this prompting, he nudged the door ever so slightly, yet even this meager effort caused it to swing wide. Within Danny saw nothing, literally. All that stood beyond the threshold, as far as he could tell, was a thick inky blackness darker than a dozen midnights. The very air itself tasted dark, like the air of a tomb.

From this darkness and stale air came a voice. A rich, regal voice enfeebled by long silence calling out “Well, you must be Danny. Come in, make yourself at home, my friend has told me all about you.”

Danny stood indecisive at the threshold, before finally turning back to face the tooth fairy. “I don’t like this. I want to go home.”

“You want to go home? But then you won’t get your surprise!” said the tooth fairy.

“I know. I don’t care. I want to go home.” replied Danny.

“Okay then, go home. But I wonder how you’ll find your way back without me?”

“You don’t mean-”

“That’s exactly what I mean, so you should really play along. Now, you’re being awfully rude to my friend in there, so why don’t you go show him what a sweet kid you really are?”

Danny gulped, turned around, and stepped into the darkness.

“That’s a good boy” said the voice from the darkness “Now, let’s see...” the voice paused, leaving Danny in silence. Soon though, he thought he heard footsteps, coming from what would be the furthest corner of the cottage, growing closer, and closer, and closer and “... If you’re really as sweet as she says!”

A pair of fangs pierced his tender neck.

The only part of Danny ever seen again was his adult teeth, left in a little sack on the door of the cottage. Even that was soon gone, carried off by a little orb of light.