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travelnew · 7 months ago

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Munsiyari Khaliya Top Trekking 2024

From 13.04.2024 to 19.04.2024, we were trekking in the Raja Rambha valley facing the Panchchuli peaks in Munsiyari, Uttarakhand. These five snow clad peaks faced the East and the Sun rose behind them and they caught the setting rays of the Sun.

We were a group of 25.

↑ Photo credit: to my trek mates of MKT - 01 ↑

We had an overcast spell. The clouds were heavy and the Sun peeped out rarely. The day in the mountains usually starts around 9 am after breakfast and we used to reach the upper camp site around 3 pm. The route was short, but steep sometimes. We used to enjoyed the drizzle before or after the lunch time and sometimes we even got mild hailstorms. Overall, a pleasant weather blessed us.

Our trek route was:

Day 1 - reporting at Munsiyari.

Day 2 - Acclimatization walk to Nanda Devi temple.

Day 3 - flag off from Munsiyari to Martoli thatch, via Maheshar Kund.

Day 4 - Martoli Thatch to Rood Khan.

Day 5 - Rood Khan to Bhaisiya Tal.

Day 6 - Bhaisiya Tal to Khaliya Top and descent to Khaliya Dwar.

A vehicle picked us from Khaliya Dwar and dropped us back to Munsiyari base camp.

Day 7 - group broke after breakfast at Munsiyari.

↑ Photo credit: to my trek mates of MKT - 01 ↑

There was not a single soul in the entire trek route. No commercial group had any events here. We were the first batch - pioneers for 2024. After the base camp, there was no electricity and network. Bliss of digital detoxification. There was no light pollution too.

The entire forest of rhododendrons in red, pink and mixture were blossoming.

We crossed a waterfall too.

↑ Photo credit: to my trek mates of MKT - 01 ↑

We saw martens (animal), pug marks of bears.

↑ Photo credit: Aaneet S. (screenshot from his album) ↑

↑ Photo credit: Govind bhai (GG) ↑

And the area is known for its birds. I noticed the wisps of beard moss in the transition zone of the tree and the snow line. Beard moss make the landscape look ancient. We had an experienced trek mate, MS - who had completed a mountaineering course from NIM and he cautioned us not to step on the verglas. Verglas is a form of ice at the edges of a snow patch. It is extremely slippery and dangerous to tread on verglas. We avoided it and crossed the snow safely.

↑ Photo credit: to my trek mates of MKT - 01 ↑

I was stargazing every night and watching the Milky Way from the camp sites in the dark forest. The YHAI schedule is best and it made this possible.

6 am - bed tea.

7 am - breakfast & tea.

8 am - packed lunch.

9 am - start trekking to the next camp site.

12 pm - have the packed lunch in the mountains.

3 pm - reach the next camp site.

4 pm - welcome drink.

5 pm - tea & snacks.

6 pm - soup.

7 pm - dinner.

8 pm - symbolic camp fire.

9 pm - hot chocolate or hot coco drink.

9 pm to 5 am - घोड़े बेचकर ��ोना (sleep).

It used to be pitch dark after dinner. Only the torches provided some light. Symbolic bonfire 🔥 (campfire) used to happen for the next 2 hours. By 9 pm, the embers used to glow and the chill sent everyone to their tents. Before 10 pm, everyone is fast asleep. I was unlucky to have snoring trek mates in the tent. Anyway, sleep used to win and I used to wake up between 2:30 or 3:30 am to 4:30 am to stargaze.

↑ Photo credit: sarthak V. ↑

Emerging out of the tent with my camera, in the faint torch light, finding my way to align the frame of the Milky Way against a tree or a tent or a peak, I used to sit silently and click the photos. Sometimes somebody will wake up for nature's call and come out of the tent clumsily with the torch. I used to switch off my torch to avoid blinding them with the beam and I was completely invisible in my black poncho. Nobody knew that there is somebody around watching the beauty of night sky. I am sure they looked up in wonder and enjoyed the beauty of the dark night sky. I was clicking and stargazing silently and peacefully for 4 consecutive nights. Sheer bliss. I did get an opportunity to share the night sky with my trek mates on the last night and we all were enthralled by it.

This sunlit slope took us to the highest point of the trek. This dry rocky patch had some ridges to place the feet. But in most parts, it was covered by dry tufted grass, which sprung out like fountains from the rock. You cannot see what's underneath the grass.

Is the rock really there or is there a hole and how deep? So one cautiously places the foot on the slippery silky grass blades and tries to feel the firm rock below.

It so happened that a MD physician (HOD of medicine in a reputed hospital) twisted his ankle in the pursuit of crossing this patch. The organisers had Volini spray in their kit. Snow was around. It was applied to the ankle. After drying, Volini sprayed and crepe bandage was applied tightly in the figure of 8. Socks and shoes back again with 2 doses of RRA 200 and the doctor was able to trek the longest descent that started from 5.15 am to 3 pm.

(I had carried the bandage, homeopathic medicines & the snow was impromptu for RICE). Sadly only the R and E could not be applied as one has to come down. It is always desriable that medical service or attention is never required in the treks or trips.

The last descent from Khaliya top to Khaliya dwar was long and monotonous. we all were thankful when it ended.

↑ Photo credit: to my trek mates of MKT - 01 ↑

The cooking staff of YHAI welcomed us with inviting meals that we relished to our heart's content. There used to be a sweet dish like gulab jamuns/ kheer/ sheera even at the higher camps. Kudos to YHAI to provide fresh, delicious and nutritious meals all along the trek.

↑ Photo credit: Govind bhai ↑

↑ Photo credit: to my trek mates of MKT - 01 ↑

↑ With YHAI Trek leader, RT ↑

The certifcates were given by YHAI's RT Sir and GG Sir.

↑ Photo credit: to my trek mates of MKT - 01 ↑

Overall, the entire experience was great. YHAI Delhi provided us with steel plates, spoons and mugs in all the camps even after leaving the base camp. The sleepings bags were of good quality that provided warmth even in the high altitude. The tents stay was warm and comfortable. All this was possible with YHAI trek leaders and the volunteering by the honarary members who were our camp leaders. I look forward to many more trekking expeditions with YHAI.

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Check out my travel diary from Mumbai to Munsiyari & helicopter ride here.

As I passed Delhi twice in my travel, enjoy my Delhi-Gurgaon travel diary here.

#Uttarakhand #Munsiyari #Trekking #Trek #Trekkers #YHAI #Panchchuli #snow #Khaliya Top

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redsixwing · 1 year ago

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Trick or Treat Letter

Hello, ToT author! Thank you for writing for me! <3

I hope you enjoy creating something for the challenge. I am certain I'll enjoy seeing it!

Overall Trick Preferences

I like scary and tragic scenarios, although I'd prefer a dash of comfort with the hurt. Body horror, gore, evidence of past trauma, all good stuff. I love themes of decay over time and regrowth in the ruins.

I'm a big fan of horror with some dignity to it. If we matched on Elden Ring, Dark Souls, FMA, or MoE, writing in a similar tone to those canons will make me a very happy camper.

Overall Treat Preferences

I enjoy nontraditional relationship structures, intimate friendships, and kind words from strangers every bit as much as romantic ships. Sexual scenes are welcome but never required.

I really REALLY like loyalty under pressure, depictions of faith (in another character? in a force beyond comprehension? it's up to you!) and intimacy in all its myriad forms.

If you're writing something on the sexual side, I quite enjoy a focus on what the participants are doing with their hands, as well as the emotional dynamics between the characters. I like monsterfucking, displays of passion, and enthusiasm between partners.

DNW

dubcon or noncon; scat/watersports/emeto; setting-change AUs (coffee shops, high schools, etc); y/n fic; a/b/o; pregnancy. Please see AO3 for fandom-specific DNWs, but that's 90% of it.

The following section collects all of the prompts written for all my fandom requests.

Fandom-specific Ideas

Elden Ring

For Tricks: I'd love to see Rennala's slow descent, or her knowledge of what's happened to her children vs what's going on in her cloistered academy with her sweetlings. Elden Ring has a LOT of horror in its DNA, and I'd love to play around with that some.

Anything Rykard and Tanith may blur the lines between trick and treat, and that's GREAT.

Who's under the crucible knight armor? How changed are they by exposure to their power of choice?

For Treats: Sweet scenes and kindness between Radagon and Rennala, or between Tanith and Rykard (or between Tanith and Rykard and the Knight? hoo hoo)

Likes: LGBTQ headcanons, genderbending Radagon, good mom Rennala. Rykard before or after Eiglay. BAMF Tanith. Cameos of other canon characters entirely welcome. Worldbuilding and details.

Dark Souls 1

Whether it's a Trick or a Treat is going to be all about focus, here, and DS1 being what it is, the lines may blur. I'm good for that.

I'd love to see some pre-canon scenarios, with or without the Chosen Undead (time being stagnant and convoluted, it seems possible they pay a visit!) Artorias before Oolacile; Ornstein and Gough vs the Dragons? Ciaran at her duties? Gwyndolin stepping up so that Anor Londo can endure past the loss of the Sun?

If you want to write during the canon timeline, how does the Chosen Undead react to meeting these heroes of old? How do they react to this upstart undead? How much do they remember of what they were?

Likes:

LGBTQ headcanons. Friendship among the Knights of Gwyn. Death, tombs, occult weirdness, time shenanigans, the creeping horror of the bonfires, the Dark, the curse... Characters of faith. Other canon characters entirely welcome.

Compilation of FFVII

I'm familiar with the original game, and a bit less familiar with Crisis Core and Dirge of Cerberus. If you pull in material from other parts of the Compilation, I'd love to know where it is from in a note :) I'd like fanwork about the Turks, or the Turks and Rufus, or the Turks and Sephiroth, or the Turks and the world around them...

For Tricks:

Show me your character(s) of choice at their skullduggery - is Reno finding a new way to aggravate someone? Is Tseng planning the abduction of a presumed Ancient? What if Sephiroth has an assignment that will require some subtle and quick-thinking backup? There's so many monsters in the world, and Shinra is making more all the time. Has it made monsters of them also?

Jenova transformations, weird science, terrible working conditions, and monsters all welcome.

For Treats:

How about the Turks on vacation? Characters supporting one another after an assignment gone wrong (or gone right?) Quiet moments in the Shinra building, or perched somewhere in Midgar's soaring heights - or in its depths?

Likes:

LGBTQ headcanons. Friendship amongst the Turks. OG Sephiroth, quiet and contemplative and not so human. Jenova-based weirdness. Bad people making bad systems better for their own reasons. Nobody taking President Shinra seriously (and nobody forgetting he is dangerous).

Spy x Family

For Tricks: Yor as the Briar Princess, showing her thorns. Loid up to spy shenanigans. (Perhaps they both have the same target? Someone's going to have a bad day.)

Exploration of their dreary, oppressive society is welcome, but I'd prefer the family to have a safe zone at home. Hurt/comfort VERY welcome.

For Treats: Are the Forgers doing anything fun for Halloween? Has Bond ever met a cat? What does he think of Halloween costumes? What if Bond saw a ghost, and only Anya knew?

Likes:

LGBTQ headcanons. Intimacy and good parenting from unlikely characters. Good people prevailing against bad systems. Bad people making bad systems better for their own reasons. Poking fun at terrible authorities.

Machineries of Empire

I'm very fond of Jedao, Yeren, and Ruo as a trio; of Jedao and Mikodez fencing wits with one another; of Cheris and Jedao being stuck in their get-along body; and of Istradez and Mikodez being awful together.

For Tricks: The hexarchate is a terrible place, full of terrible calendrical effects and horrifying remembrances. How do the characters react - internally, as showing an external disagreement is dangerous in the extreme? How do they hide their heresies?

Is Mikodez as awful as he thinks he is? Is Cheris as okay as she thinks she is? And what of the Immolation Fox?

The only thing worse may what lies outside its calendrical control.

For Treats: Sweetness (or spiciness!) with Jedao, Yeren, and Ruo! Istradez and Mikodez being good to one another, duplicates externally but so unalike inside. Cheris and Jedao at a truce, or collaborating.

Likes: LGBTQ headcanons. Games, be they board games, mind games, video games, or games of deceit. Body horror and examination of personhood. Monstrosity. Shuos being Shuos. Shuos being Kel. One lost Kel at the Shuos party. Explorations of hexarchate culture. Spaaaaaace! Mad science, bad science, extrapolation of your favorite weird science fact into hexarchate space.

FMA Brotherhood / Manga

I love Roy and Riza in pretty much every permutation - good friends, lovers, pining. So long as they have one another's backs, all's well in the world. I like Olivier, but she doesn't like Roy - she makes such an excellent foil for the other two.

Kimbley is a terrible, terrible person and he is SO MUCH FUN. Playing with the contrast between him and the Amestrians who are at least attempting not to be walking atrocities is a good time.

Greed has been one of my favorites for quite a while, be it his attitude of making everything better (because it's his by right) or his various attempts to get out of the role he was created to occupy.

For Tricks: FMA has a lot of horror in its DNA. Whether it's human transmutation, chimaera, or the horrors of war, there's lots of room for angst and scary stuff.

Solf J Kimbley is a warning in himself. So is Roy Mustang.

Oliver Armstrong is not far off, even though she may think she is.

If you write Ishval War fic, please also include an element of Riza and/or Roy determined to make a world where the things they do never have to happen again.

For Treats: Does Amestris have an All Souls' Night? How do the characters celebrate it? Or, someone gives a small sweet treat to your choice of the characters - what is it? How do they accept it, if they accept it at all?

Likes: LGBTQ headcanons. Alchemy, occult nonsense, weird science, bad science, your favorite science fact made into a plot point. Body horror and examination of personhood. Monstrosity. Good people prevailing against bad systems. Bad people making bad systems better for their own reasons. Poking fun at terrible authorities.

Thank you again!

#find later #trick or treat exchange

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ventikatours · 1 year ago

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Enchanting Wilderness: Jaisalmer Camp Package by Ventika

Introduction:

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1. Arriving in Jaisalmer:

Your journey begins as you arrive in Jaisalmer, known as the Golden City. A warm welcome awaits you, and our friendly team from Ventika Tours will ensure your smooth transfer to the desert campsite. As you drive through the picturesque landscapes, anticipation and excitement will build, knowing that an extraordinary experience awaits.

2. Desert Camp Experience:

Upon reaching the campsite, you will be greeted with traditional Rajasthani hospitality. The campsite, set against the backdrop of pristine sand dunes, offers a perfect blend of comfort and authenticity. Stay in luxurious tents adorned with elegant furnishings, comfortable beds, and modern amenities, providing you with a unique desert oasis.

3. Cultural Delights:

Ventika Tours understands the importance of immersing oneself in the local culture. As part of the Jaisalmer Camp Package, you will have the opportunity to witness captivating cultural performances by local artists. Be enthralled by traditional folk music, graceful dance forms like Kalbeliya, and mesmerizing fire dances that illuminate the night sky. Indulge in the flavors of Rajasthan with delectable local cuisine prepared with love and care.

4. Desert Activities:

Your desert adventure wouldn't be complete without partaking in thrilling activities. Enjoy a camel safari through the vast expanse of sand dunes, where you can witness breathtaking sunsets that paint the sky with vivid hues. Feel the adrenaline rush as you try your hand at sandboarding, gliding down the dunes on a board. For those seeking a unique experience, take a jeep safari to explore the rugged terrain and visit nearby villages to witness the local way of life.

5. Stargazing and Bonfire:

As the sun sets and darkness blankets the desert, an awe-inspiring sight awaits. Venture outside your camp and witness the starry night sky in all its glory. The absence of city lights allows for a clear view of the constellations, creating a mesmerizing celestial spectacle. Gather around a bonfire, listen to enchanting folk tales, and share laughter and camaraderie with fellow travelers.

6. Departure:

As your Jaisalmer Camp Package comes to an end, bid farewell to the captivating desert and carry memories that will last a lifetime. Ventika Tours will ensure your comfortable transfer back to Jaisalmer, leaving you with a sense of wonder and a longing to return to the mystical Thar Desert.

Conclusion:

Ventika Tours' Jaisalmer Camp Package offers an immersive experience in the heart of the desert. From the luxurious campsite and cultural performances to thrilling activities and tranquil nights under the starlit sky, every aspect of this package is designed to create cherished memories. Book your Jaisalmer Camp Package with Ventika Tours and let the enchanting wilderness of the Thar Desert weave its magic on your soul.

#Jaisalmer Camp Package

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milkiane · 3 years ago

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home

pairings: rafe cameron x reader, platonic!pogues x reader

warnings: mentions of drugs, mentions of bruises and blood, profanities, angst

word count: 1181

prompt: ‘then something broke in me and i wanted to go home’ [wish that you were here, florence + the machine] for @pad-foots' 7 days of angst challenge.

note: you guys should really follow @s1ater <3

home is where the heart is, they said.

it could be a place, somewhere you’ve found solace in. the place you’d go back to and get thumped by a sense of nostalgia and sentimentality, yearning for the days where it was all so simple.

but truthfully, home is a person. home is a feeling. as you grow older, you’ll start to realize that the concept of home doesn’t have anything to do with stacked bricks and cement, but it’s more of the people you share it with, the people you’ve grown to love.

you haven’t felt at home in weeks.

maybe it was rafe’s lack of affection and care, or maybe it’s because he was high off his ass all the time, or maybe because he wasn’t the same boy you loved.

it was a tiring routine, really. he’ll text you to come over, you’ll get a smidge of hope that he’ll finally come around and apologize for being a dickhead, only to find out that you’re there to watch him snort some coke, take care of him as he comes off his high, and go home with a heavy heart.

you didn’t know what happened, the both of you were okay. you were two teenagers in love, not letting the rivalry between the pogues and kooks get in the way of your blooming romance. everything was doing great until he found the same love and happiness in the drugs he once had with you.

you were so sick and tired of it. you still loved rafe, but you don’t know how much more you could handle until you break.

the jingling of the doorknob interrupted your bustling thoughts, you’ve been waiting for rafe in his room. you sighed as you turned off the tv, completely missing half of the movie.

rafe stumbled across the dark room, fumbling with the light switch as he groaned.

as soon as he flickered it on, your gasp caught his attention, “oh, good, you’re here,”

“rafe, what the fuck?” you immediately ran over to him, supporting his figure over to the bed. his face was bruised and he had a bloody nose.

you went straight to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit under the sink’s cupboard. when you stood back up, your reflection caught your attention. you don’t even look like yourself anymore, features of exhaustion shrouding your face.

you sighed, shutting your eyes shut as you tried to keep your tears in bay. it was as if worrying for rafe 24/7 has sucked the life and ambition from you. your eyes looked dead and dark, full of hurt as you thought of rafe and the mess you’d have to deal with once again.

“y/n?” rafe called out, sitting up against the headboard. wincing as he felt the pain of the bruises.

you took one more deep breath before making your way towards him.

“y/n,” he mumbled softly, grimacing as you dabbed the alcohol-soaked cotton on his grazed temple.

you hummed, avoiding eye contact as you continued patching him up.

“i’m sorry, baby. i knew i said i’d stop getting into fights but-“

you let out a shaky breath, leaning your head on his chest. slowly, sobs racked your body as you clenched the bedsheets in your hands, “i’m so tired, rafe, so tired.”

“me, too,” he cooed, rubbing your back soothingly. you looked up at him to see his eyes red and droopy. he was coming off from another high.

you swallowed, applying more antiseptics on his wounds. as you cleaned up the kit, he grabbed your arm and brought you into his embrace. in his drowsy state, he got to slur out a soft, “i love you, y/n,”

ridiculously enough, tears blurred your vision once more. you let them fall as you whimpered against his arms.

“what’s wrong, baby?”

“everything, rafe. i’m so fucking tired of looking after you, you aren’t the same rafe cameron who i fell in love with,” you sniffed, “god forbid i sound pathetic but i don’t want this vile, cruel, and druggy version of you with a tough guy act. i want the rafe who used to cancel golfing out with friends to spend the day watching disney movies with me, the rafe who cooks breakfast in bed, the rafe who loves me and acts as if i was his world.”

you whimpered, ”i- i just want to go home,”

“what do you mean? you are home,” he sat up, trying to blink away the haziness of his eyes.

“no, i’m not, and i haven’t been in weeks!” you cried, removing yourself from his hold.

“y/n, come on. we could fix this, i promise i’ll get better,” he pleaded, his own eyes getting watery.

“i want to go home, rafe, let me go,” you sniffed, “let me go…” you whispered.

slowly, he approached you and pulled you into a hug, letting you cry against his chest.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he repeated over and over again. his own heart breaking with every noise of pain you made.

with one last kiss on your temple, he separated your bodies, “i’m sorry, i love you.”

you let the tears fall freely, squeezing his hand before letting go, leaving him alone in his room.

you drove away from tannyhill, sniffling as you turned on the radio to block out all intrusive thoughts.

putting your car in park, you didn’t realize that you drove yourself to the chateau until you took in the sight of the small cabin and fairy lights hung around from tree to tree.

you inhaled deeply, rubbing your eyes to wipe away all the tears. you didn’t know if they’ll still welcome you in, but all you could do was hope.

the sound of a car engine made all of the pogues pause their bonfire conversation, they didn’t know what to expect when they jogged towards the porch, but it definitely wasn’t a teary y/n.

“y/n?” kiara’s voice called out, her eyebrows were furrowed just like the rest of them.

your head snapped towards their direction, the sight of the group made your heart clench, you started fumbling with your words, “hey guys, i’m sorry. i don’t know what i’m doing here, i’ll just go, i’m sorry.”

“what’s wrong?” pope asked, watching as kiara walked towards you, opening her arms for a hug.

when she wrapped your arms around you, something about her warmth and their concern about you made you break. you clutched onto her tightly as you let your emotions flood, “i’m sorry,”

she shushed you, rubbing her hand up and down your back as you continued to cry.

their hearts broke as you continued to cry, john b walked past the two boys and brought you into a tight hug, followed by pope and jj.

they slowly lowered into the ground as they enveloped you in a group hug.

home isn’t a place. home is where the other half of your soul is, and home is with the pogues.

you finally feel at home.

add yourself to my taglist!

general taglist: @tatesimper @bluvclouds @i-love-scott-mccall

obx taglist: @maybanksslut @spideyspixies @oldschoolkiddo @iwritesiriusly @iamninaannaisreading @nyxie75 @stylesyourmine @gabiatthedisco

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron oneshot #obx #outer banks #obx fanfiction #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #tuserliane

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morgandria · 2 years ago

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Midsummer

Knowing I wasn’t going to be meeting coven, and feeling rough, I spent my weekend pretty low key. J and I went to the farmer’s market, took a nice drive out in the country to feed my rural soul, spent some (ahem) quality time together. Food hasn’t been my friend for a couple weeks, but I baked a rhubarb cake and ate some strawberries. That, I figured, was it, past pouring out a couple libations on the actual solstice.

Monday night I had a good chat with our new upstairs neighbours for the first time, and they are quiet people, like us. It’s welcome. They’re still getting used to the nonsense that goes on here, though, and it’s been a little rough for them. I haven’t done any work on wards and bounds for a few months, but recognized it was time to maybe boost them up a little, and Summer Solstice is perfect for that.

Suddenly, my very carefully considered no-plans became plans. It wasn’t...convenient. The Solstice weather promised to be feeling like 42°C with the humidity (compared to 22°C and no humidity the day before). I had a migraine aura, which blew up at 3 AM Solstice eve into the promised migraine. I tried to medicate and sleep, but sleep didn’t happen. So I did the ever-so-sensible thing, and got on with it.

Midsummer Night started out with this:

My camera does no justice to that fire. It was blazing orange and pink, and the sky between was brilliant turquoise. Such a beautiful start. While the sky burned, I went about my bounds, and left a few gifts for our more disruptive and unwelcome neighbours. Then I went back in for a little bit to cool off and hydrate (it was still terribly hot outside), and then came back out for offerings once it had gotten a little darker.

No real ritual here, but offerings of flame, some handmade Midsummer incense and the Fair Folk’s own blend, an herbal offering I call ‘Faerie Food’, and some very fine mead from 2016 made by an LARPing acquaintance who keeps his own bees. (I can’t have more than a sip because of my meds, but that sip was so nice.)

The pile of paper on the plate is my Midsummer bonfire, and something I’m absurdly proud of. My coven’s summer solstice ritual involves a ritual burning of herbs in a cauldron...and therein lies a tale of woe and mirth. After years of fighting with lighting these herbs, I made some handmade paper studded with the herbs we needed and soaked in a saltpeter solution. Lo and behold, I have herbs that burn in that cauldron reliably. And of course I have that paper at home, so not having the ability to have an actual proper fire it was perfect. I lit my tiny paper one, and sent off all my prayers and intentions with it.

Mead libations poured out, fire offerings burned, herbal offerings scattered, and blood offerings given to the mosquitoes, I tidied up and retreated to the cool darkness of my hobbit hole and slept. An unexpected but pleasurable eve of witching - and I -may- have done some nocturnal wandering last night (as things go) so if a green-eyed raven crossed anyone’s path last night, greetings!

#summer solstice #midsummer #witchcraft #Solstice Squad #Solstice Squad 2022

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justanobsessedfangirl · 4 years ago

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Once Bitten, Twice Shy - Chapter 4 - The Maze Runner Newt Fic

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

Once Bitten, Twice Shy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Author’s Note: Thanks to everyone who’s reading! I’m going to do more planning and hopefully I’ll have a schedule figured out/posted so I don’t keep leaving you all in the dark about when I’m going to upload.

Word Count: 3.0k

You’d slept through the night. For the first time in weeks, you’d slept through the night, spending hours in a peaceful, dreamless slumber. As you opened your eyes, you felt the last wisps of sleep slide languidly off your body and settle in the recesses of your mind, content to wait until called upon.

Your bed was warmer than usual. Minho must have found you another blanket; the one under your cheek was gray. You didn’t have any gray blankets.

You blinked. The blanket underneath you shifted. Jerking away, heart racing, you frantically rubbed your eyes. When you opened them again, you saw the same thing: a waking Newt, leaning against the back of a chair in the Runner’s Hut, his arms open where you’d just been nestled into him.

Brown eyes blinked slowly at you. His lips formed a smile you’d seen so many times before, the one he always had when the morning sun hit the two of you as you stirred to consciousness in your bed. It was slow and relaxed and loving.

A dark blush rose on your cheeks. You stood up and everything that had been peaceful about the moment snapped away. You were back in reality.

I don’t love him anymore. I don’t.

You had to turn away to stop yourself from kissing him. “I have to go, I’m probably already late for...” you trailed off.

Newt, thankfully, didn’t mention how today was your rest day. Instead, he nodded. “I have to go too.” He rose, running a hand through his hair. “But if you’re not too busy, we could always use help in the Gardens.” He seemed so sheepish standing there in front of you, a pale pink creeping up his neck.

You were sure your face was red. You’d slept with him before, but that was when you were together, not in this strange purgatory. Everything was too intimate just then, the maps on the table, the untouched sandwich, Newt’s messy bed-head - they all served as reminders of the night before. The night that shouldn’t have happened.

“Um, maybe,” you replied. Then you turned your back on him and fled through the door. The four steps it took felt like they went on for years. You ran.

On autopilot, your feet led you to the Kitchen. A few boys were finishing breakfast at the tables, but the sun was already high in the sky, so most of the Gladers were out working.

“There’s my favorite Runner!” Frypan crowed. He was stirring a pot and wearing a broad grin.

You made your way over to him, managing a tight-lipped smile. Your mind was still fuzzy. The parts of your body that had been touching Newt yearned to feel him again, to fall back asleep with him, to feel safe.

“Slept in today, huh?” Frypan grabbed a nearby bowl and scooped a ladleful of oatmeal into it. With a flourish, he pulled a spoon out of his stained apron and stuck it in the oatmeal. “Don’t give me that look, it’s clean.”

You accepted the bowl hesitantly, pulled the spoon out, inspected it, then took a small bite of oatmeal. Cinnamon and brown sugar danced across your tongue. When you smiled at Frypan this time, it was almost natural. With every second that passed, you grew farther and farther from the Runner’s Hut. You could feel your shoulders already tensing under the heavy burden of stress. “Did Minho and Alby leave yet?”

Frypan nodded. “Crack of dawn.”

You took a bite, swallowing your resentment over not going with them. Another question rolled around in your head. “Were you there last night? When they put Ben -- when they banished him?”

Frypan stirred the oatmeal. His stare was focused on it, his brow heavy over his eyes. “Yes.” Another stir. “It was the right thing to do. Alby said so. Everyone agreed.”

The oatmeal didn’t seem as appetizing anymore, but when Frypan leveled his gaze on you, you took a bite, if only so you’d have more time to think about what to say. “It was right. He tried to kill Thomas.” Your stomach churned.

Nodding, Frypan stepped away from the pot. “Speaking of Thomas,” Frypan wiped his hands on his apron and smiled, “he and Chuck came by looking for you. Something about how you promised to spend the day with them? Chuck seemed pretty excited.”

You huffed out a laugh. “I bet. Do you know where they went?”

“They’re working in the Gardens today.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from muttering, “Of course they are.”

Frypan ignored you. “You better get a move on unless you want to help me wash all the dishes.”

For a second you almost said you would, but in your mind’s eye you could still see the earnestness on Chuck’s face at the bonfire, and you could still see Newt. You shook your head and scarfed down the last bites of oatmeal. “You’re on your own, Fry.” Shoving the bowl into his hands, you darted away to the sound of his laughter.

On your way to the Gardens, you passed a few Gladers. Exchanging greetings and idle chat about the weather helped delay your arrival, but all too soon you found yourself standing before rows of crops, scanning the area for Chuck and Thomas and, secretly, Newt.

Chuck saw you first. “Y/N!” he called from the tomato plants. He was waving his hands. Thomas was next to him, holding a half-full basket of tomatoes that were almost as red as his cheeks.

“She heard you, Chuck,” you heard Thomas mumble as you approached them.

Chuck paid no attention to the older boy. “I knew you’d come! Thomas wasn’t sure, but I knew. Thomas said you might have better things to do but I said that you mainly just run in the Maze all the time, so don’t even know what you would do on a day off. Oh, Thomas, that’s a good tomato, put it in the basket. How long has it been since your last day off, Y/N? A long time, right? I told Thomas I couldn’t even remember your last day off, so maybe it was before I came.”

You inspected a tomato, trying to keep your face neutral. “Not too long.” Not long enough. “Think this one’s good, Thomas?”

“I’m not much of a gardener.” He leaned in anyway. “It looks good enough to me.” Thomas held out the basket.

Chuck moved closer, mimicking Thomas’s actions. “Yup, looks good to me too. I say put it in the basket.”

You smiled and complied. “Thanks, Chuck.” The three of you moved down the row, passing over a few plants that bore only unripe tomatoes. “So, you don’t think you’ll be a Gardener?” Scanning Thomas, you said, “You could be a Track-Hoe, you look strong enough for it.”

Thomas quickly turned away from you, grabbing a tomato and thoroughly examining it, avoiding your eyes like the plague. Chuck giggled, only getting louder when Thomas shot him a glare. “No, I, uh...” He took a deep breath. “What’s it like being a Runner?” he finally asked, still staring at the tomato.

You plucked the vegetable from his hand. “You want to be a Runner?”

Thomas met your gaze. There was some nervousness in his brown eyes, but there was also fire. Fire you’d seen in Minho’s eyes before heading into the Maze. Fire you’d seen in Alby’s eyes during a meeting. Fire you’d seen in Newt’s eyes when he looked at you.

Passion. Determination.

“I need to be a Runner.” He said it like a fact, like it was an undeniable truth of the universe.

You felt trapped in his stare until Chuck took the basket and nudged your side. Dropping the tomato in, you shook yourself and began walking down the row again. “You’ll have to talk to Minho about that, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up. No Greenies in the Maze.”

Thomas trotted to your side. “How’d you become a Runner?”

You plucked a ripe tomato and handed it to Chuck, remembering the night you’d told Newt you needed to be a Runner.

No, he’d said immediately. Please, love. It’s dangerous. We can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.

He’d begged you. Overhead, the stars had twinkled like nothing was amiss, and in the Glade, you and Newt had sat in a hammock, moving closer and closer as the sky darkened.

I need to, Newt. I don’t know how to explain it, but I know that’s what I’m supposed to do. Don’t you ever feel like that? Like you have some greater purpose?

He’d looked at you like you hung the moon. He’d looked at you like you were the sun. He’d looked at you and nodded and told you about how he hurt his leg. Somewhere in the middle of his story, your fingers had become intertwined. You’d stroked the back of his hand with your thumb as he bared his soul.

When he was done, you’d told him how afraid you’d been ever since you woke up in the Box. He’d understood. God, he’d understood so well. You’d let your guard slip enough to welcome him in, and he did the same, and you’d felt safe sitting next to him. With the sun peeking above the horizon, he’d leaned in, or maybe you’d leaned in, or maybe you’d both done it at the same time because the moment was perfect.

But you couldn’t tell Thomas all of that. You settled for saying, “I convinced Minho and...Newt. But it took a while.” You hoped the Greenie couldn’t hear your voice waver.

Somewhere in the background, Chuck was gabbing about the tomato he was holding, but your attention was focused on Thomas when he said, “You and Newt seemed pretty tense at the bonfire. Did something happen?”

Your tongue was too big for your mouth, too big to form a response. Turning into the next row, you parted your lips. Any words you might have had vanished as you came face to face with Margaret.

All of the blood drained from her cheeks. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, though she said nothing.

Standing opposite her, opposite the girl who’d helped break your heart, you felt a swirl of emotions so strong you were light-headed. Anger made your hands tremble. Sadness threatened to release the tears you’d held hostage for a month.

“Hey, Margaret!” Chuck’s childish enthusiasm toward her was a slap in the face. “I didn’t know you worked in the Gardens. This is Thomas, he’s the new Greenbean. I bet you’re happy people won’t call you that anymore! Well, sometimes they might, some people still call me a Greenie, but I think that’s just because I’m kind of young, and you’re not that young, so you should be fine. Not that you’re old! I’m not calling you old. You’re Y/N’s age, right, Y/N?”

You looked at Margaret, with her shock of fiery red hair pulled back in a ponytail, her large green eyes, the freckles that spotted her cheeks. She is my age. She’s a teenager. A dumb, foolish teenager. “Yeah. Same age.” Your voice was faint. Newt’s a dumb, foolish teenager, too. Dumb, foolish teenagers make mistakes.

Margaret’s eyes were as large as plates. You thought she might cry. “Y/N,” she choked out. “I’m so-”

You walked past her, anger fading into confusion. You saw Thomas at the edge of your vision, although he could have been lightyears away based on how disconnected you felt. Chuck was behind you, saying goodbye to Margaret. His words seemed like they were spoken underwater. “She’s what happened between Newt and me.” Your mouth was moving, but was that really your voice speaking? It rang in your ears, she’s what happened she’s what happened she’s what happened.

“Oh,” came Thomas’s reply. “I’m sorry for asking about it.”

You looked up, meeting his brown eyes. They were darker than Newt’s, and, although they looked at you softly, they didn’t make your heart flutter. “It’s okay,” you said. I don’t think it is, you thought, I don’t think I’m okay. You’d been so sure that you hated Newt. You’d repeated it like a prayer. I hate him, he hurt me, he did this on purpose.

But he apologized to you. He comforted you. He held you. Somewhere behind you, Margaret’s apology lingered unsaid.

“There are other things to focus on,” you said. You had to think about things that made sense. Fact: you needed to escape. Fact: you had to explore the Maze to do that. After a beat of silence, you added, “I’ll talk to Minho about you becoming a Runner. We need more people like you.”

“Really?” Hopefulness filled Thomas’s voice.

You nodded for Thomas. Your feet were on the ground, your hands were holding a basket, and you were going to be focused, and that was how everything would end up okay. You nodded again. That one was for you.

You spent the day picking fruits and vegetables from the Gardens, managing to avoid both Newt and Margaret. Whenever you thought you saw one of them through the rows, you would divert your group in the opposite direction. Thomas was smart enough to pick up on what you were doing, and either of you could easily distract Chuck to wander where you wanted.

By the end of the day, you were sweaty and hungry, but you hadn’t had to talk to Newt or Margaret. Now you just needed to see Minho come through the Maze doors, unharmed, and you’d be able to say that the day was almost good.

“Are they usually back by now?” Thomas asked.

You glanced up at the setting sun. “Minho’s smart. And fast.” It wasn’t an answer to his question; it was what you needed to say to reassure yourself.

Other Gladers were waiting at the door too. Newt had joined the group only a few minutes before. Luckily, Winston had struck up a conversation with him, but you could still feel the weight of his eyes on you. You shifted behind Thomas's tall frame for cover and restrained yourself from looking back at Newt.

Now, though, as the sun dipped even lower in the sky, you stepped away from Thomas and Chuck, closer to the entrance. If you stared hard enough, you’d be able to see Minho and Alby rushing down the corridor. You were sure of it. Any second now. Any. Second.

The Maze began to growl. Massive stones shook as the door started to move. The rumbling of a great beast filled the air.

You edged closer to the door. The line of boys moved with you, Thomas by your side, Newt somewhere behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence.

“There!” You pointed. Coming around the corner was Minho, half-carrying a limping Alby.

All at once, the Glade was shouting. “Hurry!” “You can make it!” “Keep going!” “You got it, Minho! You got it, Alby!” “Run!” “Run!” “Run!”

Minho shuffled along faster. His face was screwed up with exertion. Opening his mouth in a yell, he took a great lunge forward, then another.

The doors were halfway closed.

You bolted to the Maze. You ran hard through the yelling of the Gladers and the grinding, heart-wrenching sound of the closing door. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Thomas running too, a lithe flash.

Then you were on the ground. A body was on top of you, holding you down, and you were flailing and kicking and trying to get back up, needing to get back up and get into the Maze. Minho was in there, your partner was in there! Minho and Alby, your partner and your leader, and they both needed help and you knew you could help them.

But there were more hands on you, holding you down. You slammed a fist into the ground. You clawed at the dirt and tried to jab an elbow behind you, but the calloused hand of a Builder shoved it back down. A hand that was meant to be comforting was on your back. You wanted to rip it off. All you could do was watch and struggle and see Thomas vanish into the Maze with Minho and Alby as the door slammed shut.

You’d never wanted to be in the Maze so bad.

You’d never been so angry.

The people around you began drifting away. Hands and arms and legs shifted out of sight. When the person on top of you stood, the person who’d started it all, you knew who you’d see before you turned.

Newt was holding a hand out to help you up. He was the picture of concern. Soft brown eyes, knitted eyebrows, parted pink lips.

You rose slowly, ignoring his help. Your whole body shook in fury. He must have thought you were crying, because he stepped forward, arms open to embrace you.

You shoved him as hard as you could. Only a small part of you felt bad watching him stumble to the ground. The rest of you felt only red.

“This is your fault. This is all your fault,” you started, teeth gritted so hard you thought they’d break. You began at a whisper, but each word grew louder until you were shouting. “This is all your fault! I could’ve helped them! I should’ve been in there! I should be in there!”

You turned back to the Maze, fists clenched in rage. You wanted to beat your way through the walls. You wanted to climb up the ivy and rappel down the other side. You wanted to hurt someone, and that scared you so badly that you had to run, like you always did, like you always would. You ran for the trees, where no one could see you. You ran wildly, full of fear, anger, regret, so many emotions you didn’t know what to do with them, you didn’t know who to turn to, you didn’t know what to do. You just kept running. And when you were hidden, you cried for Minho and Alby and Thomas and Newt and the person you had become. And then you ran more.

Tag List: @anyasthoughts

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters! Thanks for reading :)

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slater-later · 4 years ago

Text

I Want to Watch You Grow

Brian Kelly x Trans Masc Reader

Read it here on AO3 if you would like!

- This is a Brian Kelly x Trans Man reader fan fic. This conronicles your long term relationship with Brian and your development with yourself. Your body, and transition as a transman.

- I hope everyone enjoys this. Finds space within themselves and their relationship with the world. It’s okay to be trans, being trans is beautiful. it’s a difficult, glorious journey that is far more of a beginning then an end. Living happy life, being proud of yourself and your body.

- The fic is long, about 12 pages. So please, soak it in, and I wish you the happiest day!

The two of you had been dating for some time. You had met at a small high school party. A good group of friends coming together around a Summer bonfire, slipping your feet out from the well worn sandals and wiggling them infront of a fire. The soles of your feet toasted, turning them around to be goldened on both sides. You held a long metal skewer with two plump marshmallows on the end, rotating it around as you warmed it to a golden ball of glory.

It was sweet, being able to spend time with old friends and make some new. Your friend Ronnie had invited the skater kids from school to join you. He had bonded with them over their mutual love for rock and rap music. It made sense, they both loved Public Enemy. Blasting ‘We Got the Power’ out of their car radios whenever they had a chance.

You enjoyed it, they threw out some good rhymes and it was a battle cry for your youth. You generation. You couldn’t help but bob your head to the music and belt along.

It was towards the end of the night when you two met. Brian had showed up late, hair slicked with a heavy line of sweat. A shirt quickly shoved into his pants, trying to clean up for his group of friends after a long day of skating.

He had skipped out of work that day- well, really, the restaurant was slow so there wasn’t much need for two busboys. He had spent the rest of his afternoon and late into the stary night, skating at the skatepark. The street lights clicked on and it had made it hard for him to see the clear edges of the ramps. It was time to turn in and get a bite to eat. Putting aside the new trick he caught from someone else. Trying to nail it.

If he knew it could be done, then he could. He just needed enough time and perseverance to figure it out.

With skating, the possibilities were endless. It was his place to let go of life’s worries and focus on something where had complete control. The complete right to be, what and who he is, with no to tell him otherwise. Skating was like a lifeblood for him, his way of life.

His boundless universe.

He came jogging in, skateboard in hand as he approached the group huddled around the warm fire.

The trees swayed, creaking under the age and weight of their own majesty with a long gust of wind. It was dark, the hum of Summer turning to a deep pitch of haze. Black rolling in, only to be illuminated by the glaze of starfull and a half crescent moon. The forest was thick, lulled by the hum of heated crickets and hushed by the cool breeze of night. Smoke pooling from the warm fire, whisping and licking up the sky with powerful might. Your toes curled, seeking a gentle relief from its delightful burning flame.

They were roasted and baked. You tucked them into the ground, shifting your heals to push back the brush and find a damp, cool, interior.

Brian waved, throwing an arm up to welcome everyone. A boy buzzed in the background, rolling a hit out of a cheaply made bong. Coughing as he blew out his lungs. Stoned till’ the cows come home.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late, it uh, took me a while to find you guys,” He smiled, strolling on into the circle and making his way over to Yabbo. Giving him a high five and saying hello to Buddy.

You popped your marshmallow onto a graham cracker and some chocolate. You munched on your treat, washing it down with a sip of beer.

You watched Brian that night, catching his eyes as he chatted with Buddy over some trick he had been captivated by. Transfixed on trying to nail, to, gleam the cube.

He noticed, his shit stain smirk would appear even in mid sentence. Hands flailing out, gesturing and expressing his exasperation on some wild tangent he was on about skating. About life. About love. It was amusing to watch him, loud and audacious as he was. He could even make Buddy loud, who was normally a quiet and reserved guy. Get him chuckling about some silly joke he made, and pairing it with an audacious face. Hands whipped out, a cross between a dragon and a gorilla.

You had finished off your second beer, musing with a friend about the stars as you gazed. Heads turned up, pondering the wide expanse of space. Its’ glorious bounds, its beauty, its’ wonder.

It put things in perspective for you. Not in a scary way, but in a comforting one. That sometimes, our emotions can feel massive. And they can be! But they also fall away, soothe and ease, as we realize, this shall pass. As all things. Even life. And so, what we must work towards is enjoying it. Like moments like these- feet kicked up on a stump, back eased into a lawn chair with a good beer in hand, spending time with friends. The summer breeze cooling your warm skin, still tanned and glowing from a long day spent outside. Walking, running, and spending time with those that mattered to you. You can’t steal back time, but instead, enjoy it.

Brian tapped Buddy’s shoulder, gesturing for him to shift over as he stood up. Slicking to the outside of the circle, making his way over.

He stopped at the bag of mellows, nabbing two and popping one in his mouth. Munching on its sugary goodness as he finished the trip. Sliding down and popping on the ground, criss-cross-apple-sauce style.

You picked your chin up from the stars, turning your head towards him, “Hey.”

“Hey,” He smiled tiredly, softly. It had grown late and the group had died down, calming and chatting amongst themselves. “So, I uh, don’t think I caught your name,” He mused, chuckling with an anxious delight. He had caught your fancy and talking to attractive people always made his insides flutter.

“It’s Y/N, what’s yours?” You smiled, letting out a tiny yawn, hand hovering over your mouth.

And on command, it was his turn. “Briannn.” He said, pushing through his wide open mouth, eyes turning to closed slits. Watering.

“Jesus, I’m beat,” He muttered, whipping his eyes.

“You too?” You couldn’t stop, the two of you speaking through widely stretched mouths, yawning and releasing the tired souls of your body out into the air. Like ghosts being exercised.

“Yeah!” He squeaked, putting his hand over his mouth. This time his mouth reaching out farther. As if a shark could unhinge its massive jaw.

Slowly, both of yours bodies cooled down. Chatted about the quiet, peaceful sounds of the forest. How the night made your feel alive, at ease within your own body. It was easy talking with such a nice man, cracking soft jokes and poking fun at the world. The politicians, the fat cats, and parents. Some stupid shit a drunk girl did at school, how the one guy on the football team fucked the head swimmer and stirred drama in the theatre group. He had been dating Jared, but it all fell for shit when he saw Sam in those swim trunks.

You both agreed, he looked mighty fine in the spandex speedo. And Tom did too, especially when he found out how kind he was.

“So who do you think is the biggest class clown? Don or Vinny?” You mused, shifting your weight in your seat. Turning towards him.

“Ahhh, I’m not so sure. Vinny is my man, but I really like Tabitha-”

“That bitch?” You shot, clicking your tongue. “She fucking stole $20 out of my backpack, fuck her!”

His eyebrows knitted, looking disappointed. “Yeahhh, she ain’t very nice. I disagree with you there,” He looked at the blaze, shaking his head. “But it’s not a ‘frienship’ competition. I give her props pouring that bottle of stinky slick on that jerk in Ceramics. That one that makes all those gross racist comments in school.” Fuck him for his piece of shit mind. There was no reason to be like that.

“-Ugh!” Your eyes rolled, shaking your head, “I know, I fucking hate him. He’s a piece of shit,” Internally you groaned, thinking of his disgusting face.

“For that, I respect her. The fool won’t change his mind and he needs to learn that he can’t do shit like that. It’s not like he’ll listen, I’ve tried,” He popped a mellow into his mouth, chewing. “She got 3 days of suspension for that. It was pretty ballsy,” Shitting on racist was both funny and satisfying.

“What-? Why did she get that-?”

He shrugged, looking amazed, “I don’t know. It’s fucked up, that’s school for ya. It’s not right.”

You shook your head disgusted. If only they would understand, listen. “Ok, so, who has your favorite comedy?

“-Sam,” He smiled, poking a branch into the fire.

You watched him stir up the flame, picking at a log and turning it over.

“Same, he’s really nice. He’s quiet but he has a smart tongue on him,” Slowly the fire grew. Emboldened by the new life, “Tom’s really lucky.”

Brian shot you a look, teeth flashing in a grin, “Cuz Jared’s so hot?”

You shot up in your seat, pushing yourself closer to him- “Okay though, right?!” Brian burst out laughing, head thrown back as he boomed.

You waved your hands up into the air, desperately. “He has those pecs! Those thick arms! I just wanna be hugged by him!” He was a big tall teddy bear! A muscular one too! Who doesn’t love a big teddy bear?!

“I know, I know!” He slapped his knee, face red and warm, and it wasn’t from the booze. “He’s cute! He’s really cute!” He laughed, smiling through his big open mouth.

The two of you talked for the rest of the night, making another round of smores and sipping on the last of your cold beer. It was easy, talking to him. You found a kind of warm comfort and acceptance by such a free soul. By someone who really just wanted to be seen and heard, and loved for who he was.

*****

That night would bloom into many others. A few months you spent together, as friends, and the others, as lovers. You slowly got to know each other over time progressed. Eventually, love bloomed. Infatuation took to desire, day dreaming about the next time you’d see him. Hand propping your chin, staring off into a whiteboard filled with math equations as the teacher droned on. The last week of school was a buzzkill, bittersweet, and painfully long.

You wanted it to end. For it to be Summer, to be scott-free and without responsibilities. But that also brought changes and your second stage of life was on the horizon.

****

The time came and both of you decided to take a year off from college. Work and save up some money. Spend time together as much you can.

You planned on going away to school a few hours away. Brian hadn’t quite decided, but it looked to be the same.

Both of you would attend the same school and it would work out well. Eventually, you both got through the next four years with your brains intact for the better. He majored in music production with a minor in entrepreneurship. He wanted to do something in music, start his own band and maybe build his own label. You majored in _____ and loved it. And your relationship had lasted, strengthened. Finding a quiet peace and home in one another. A thing you quietly wished for in your heart and didn’t know you needed until you found it.

The freedom to be yourself with another. One who would love and accept you, regardless of the circumstances and the changes.

But it didn’t always make it easy. You had been having feelings about your body. Ones that you didn’t quite like and found increasingly frustrating to have. To not have the words, the names, to understand and express how you felt.

You already knew you weren’t straight. That had long been established to yourself and to Brian’s knowledge. He didn’t care- well, that wasn’t quite the right way to put it. He was supportive of your queerness and actually encouraged it. You both were fluid as a snake- bodies and gender thrown right out of the door. What mattered was the person, the attraction, and the two of you- had a lot of that for one another.

He also wasn’t one to put up many questions about the way you dressed. Switching out fem for? Masculine? He was game. He liked your style, even sowed on some patches on your jacket when he asked. Though as time wore on, catching the way you shield away from your chest… Your feelings about your body… He noticed.

“Hey babe?” He slid into the frame of the doorway, hand grasping the side of the wood as he leaned in. Watching you do your hair, clothed, and fixing your hair.

“Yeah? What’s up?” You looked at him through the mirror, running a comb through your head. “Is my coffee ready?”

“Yeah, it’s on the kitchen table. With your toast,” He walked in, looking quiet. Tentative. “Can I talk to you about something?”

You turned, “Yeahhhh…” Your voice fluttered, knowing that face he makes. It made you uneasy. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Are you… alright? You’ve been distant lately, like somethings on your mind,” He paused, looking down. Guilty, “Did I do something wrong? Are we alright?” He leaned his back against the wall, thumbs hooked into his jean pockets. Glancing up at you.

You set down the brush, turning, “Yeah,” You coed softly. Tenderly to the sweet man, “We’re okay, I’m just going through some stuff,” It was easier to put that into words. You needed time to figure things out, to share how you felt. You didn’t even have them for yourself, at least not clearly.

You hoped time would reveal itself, help your understand and work through what you were feeling.

And you didn’t know how it would change you. Or, for the matter, Brian. Your relationship with him.

He gestured to you, beat, “Do you.. Wanna talk about it?”

It fell on silence, unsure.

“Yes… but not now. I need some time,” You stepped, drawing his eyes.

“Like… how long?” It was bugging him, an itch he can’t scratch. A problem he saw, a frustration he can’t touch.

It was yours, and one that effected him. He wanted you happy and content.

To ease your pain.

“I’m not sure,” You slipped a hand into his and locked fingers together. Drawing his hand up and lined your hips with his. Brian’s other slip around your waist, pulling you close. “You’re going to have to wait, to trust me until I’m ready to talk about it. But I do love you- and it’s not because of you,” You pressed your lips to his, slowly lifting them away. “Or something you’ve done. We’re okay.”

“Alright, I just-” He looked into your eyes, vulnerable. “I want you to be happy, no matter what. Whatever it is.”

“And I thank you for that, I really do. I appreciate it,” Another press, lips locked, tongues twisting for a moment.

“Oh? Is someone?”

You laughed, caught red-handed, “Yeah, a bit.” You mused.

****

And for a while, it was left like that. You ordered yourself a proper binder and he was properly happy for you, seeing you excited to go and slip it on as soon as it came in the mail. You checked yourself out in the mirror, beaming as you found a sense of newfound confidence and comfort in your appearance. Your body.

He liked the way you smelled after you changed deodorants. You smelled rich and musky, one that you both adored. For him, it was intoxicating. Even picked up your armpit in bed as you yelped, his head buried in your pit to get a good whiff of your scent. Both of you sent laughing and shouting and you play fought in bed, beating back the monster you so endearingly loved.

“Fucking hell Brian!! Give me my arm back!”

“No! Never!” He bellowed, hand tightening around your wrist, pinning it against the wall as your feet kicked against him. He loved it, making you mad and crazy at the same time.

Tickling was your enemy! One that he used and abused, to get you laughing and squirming as he tied his body around yes. Pressing kisses to your cheek like a woodpecker.

****

Eventually, you found answers. The internet helped and a good stack of books about gender. It worked to ease your feelings about your body and the amount of envy you had for the masculine. It was difficult at first, being able to sort through attraction and gender envy at the same time. Slowly, you found answers. A confirmation of your feelings and way of life. The amount of euphoria you received when the simple stranger called you ‘man’ or ‘sir’ felt glorious. Elating and at home with yourself in a way that felt right. A homecoming.

You started to approach the subject with Brian. The two of you were friends with trans people, but it still felt fresh. Weird, and confusing to go through yourself. Being trans still didn’t give you cut and dry answers, it was a journey. A grey area because, even through they had gone through that journey, it was still personal. You had to find answers for yourself and the world is a weird, wild place.

But, it didn’t mean you were something else. Or strange for that matter- you were you, and that’s what mattered. You were exploring.

You two had been laying in bed. A quiet Saturday day spent outside, running errands and going to the farmers market to buy fresh produce and bread. It was lovely and peaceful. You guys had turned into bed early, curled under a soft comforter as you sprawled out in bed. The sun had set.

“Hey,” You whispered, dusting a piece of long hair out of his face. He was turned towards you, a fit of blankets wrapped around him as his body cupped towards yours.

“Hey,” He yawned, eyes fluttering in sleepiness.

You dusted a finger along his jaw, his chest slowly rising and falling. A ham all baked like a warm potato. “Can we talk?”

He shifted his head closer to your touch, liking the way you slowly stroked his skin. “Yeah, what’s up?” He yawned.

“I’ve been thinking, for a while now. That I might be trans,” You paused, wanting to release the next few words from your brain. “I think I am.”

“Oh?” He shifted up, sitting up now and trying to wake up his brain. Serious conversation time. “Really?” His voice was kind, asking for confirmation.

You nodded, “Yes.”

“As in nonbinary or trans masc?” He ran a hand through his hair, swooping the fluff back. Pulling himself together.

You laughed, feeling the butterflies swarm in your stomach. “Trans masculine.”

“Okay,” he smiled, nodding. Taking it in. “So uh, what do you want to do? If anything at all?”

“Honey-” You pestered, giving him a look.

“I’m asking! That’s up to you!” He was ginger, trying not to pry but dying inside. The questions!

“Clothes, that’s for one thing.”

“You’re already wearing my boxers- we gotta get you more of those.”

You had been stealing them from him. They were comfy, among other things. You couldn’t help but crack a guilty smile. He had mentioned it before when he had ran out, pissed because he hated wearing dirty ones.

“And shirts, and some good cuffed jeans-” You added.

“Dickie’s has those, we can thrift you Carhart’s from Goodwill.”

You paused, holding your breath. Holding onto the next few words, as if they couldn’t be taken back. Releasing them into the world, “And transitioning. I think I want to do that too.”

He reached for your hand, his thumb stroking your palm as the two of you laid in bed. Him looking down at you as your sprawled out, your elbow propping yourself up. “Okay, if that’s what you want, I support you. I want that too,” He pulled up your hand and pressed his lips to them softly. Firmly intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing them tightly. Securely.

“Do you want to go by different pronouns? A name?”

“Yes, I want to be named Y/N,” You smiled, feeling his hands pull you in. Draw around you in a deep hug as he slid down to your level, comforting and embracing you. “I want to go by he/him pronouns.” You chuckled against his skin, head buried into the crook of his neck.

“Well hello my Prince, I’m so glad to meet you Y/N,” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, smiling through it as your heart brust. Crying in relief, in tears of joy and relief.

“You’re not mad?” You squeaked, tears rolling down your cheek.

“Baby~” He purred, pulling back, to look into your eyes. “Of course not, I want you to be happy. You’re precious to me,” He said, soothing you. “Is this what’s been bothering you?”

You nodded.

“I’ve been… wondering about it,” He mused. “I kinda figured it out after you bought your binder and started shaving your face. You barely had peach fuz but you looked so happy… so, much more bright that day,” You had slowly been trying things out. Listening to your body and how you felt. Changing your style, presenting more masculine. You even bought clothes from the men’s section and started to let go using gender specific pronouns for yourself. To ease the pain of dysphoria while you figured out feelings. Your therapist helped.

“But I’ve been waiting until you tell me, that’s your stuff,” He wiped your chin, brushing off the stream of tears. “I know you’d tell me eventually, whatever your answer was- I want to support you. I chose that long ago, I stand by that.” He smiled, adding, “And if things change in the future, that’s okay too. Gender and bodies are a tricky thing.”

There was so many choices- my so options- in how trans people choose to express themselves. All of them are valid, it’s what makes you happy is the most important thing. What aligns with yourself.

“Thank you,” You sniffled, peaking out a smile. You were happy, and now tired, and just wanted to curl up in bed. The rush of emotions flooding your system, the bent of stress and relief washing over your system. Draining you.

You wanted to feel this moment in its security, its acceptance. “That means a lot to me Brian.”

“Of course- and for what it matters-” He leaned into your ear, whispering, “I think you make a handsome man. And will continue too.”

“It doesn’t change things- between us?”

He shrugged, unfazed, “I don’t think so. I’m attracted to you and I like men so-” Another quizzical look, “I don’t see how it would change things in that department. I think I need to know more but I don’t think so.”

You raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I want to read more about it so I can help you. I know it can be hard for trans people to get the resources they need to transition. We’re going to both go through this and I want to help you. -If that’s what you want, of course.”

“Oh! Okay,” you nodded. You slid down together, laying in each others arms. Curled underneath the seats, your tears dried up. Heart shining. “I want that, your help. I fucking hate calling the doctors office.”

He laughed, “I know! I know!” You would get stressed, talking on the phone could be weird sometimes. It made you anxious.

You tucked your head into his chest, hearing it beat with the life you held so closely. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. “Thank you Bri, for everything.”

“Of course Y/N,” He spoke softly, warm. “I love you, you’re my everything.”

The two of you drifted off to sleep in bed, listening to the sound of Summer rain come in through the window. Drops slapping against the hard concrete, easing you into a deep slumber.

****

The two of you got along better after that. You were able to save up enough money to see a gender therapist. A general practice doctor that specialized in transgender health, giving you access to the hormone treatments you so desperately needed.

The changes came slow at first, the T being newly added to your system. Eventually, the body hair came in. Sprouting up your legs and turning thicker, darker, up your knees. Your body weight shifted, redistributing around your body with a healthy addition of exercise. Your jaw widened, spotting itself with facial hair which you so proudly grew. Cleaned up and trimmed, sculpting it to your desire.

That was one of your favorite moments. When you asked Brian to show you how he shaved his face. He pulled out of his bag of clippers, helped you learn how to wash your face and spread shaving cream on your face. How to guide the razor against your skin, trimming the well grown facial hair.

“-Like this- you gotta go against the grain if you want it smooth,” You were both creamed up, with your hair clipped back. He had a headband pushing his strands back, keeping it from falling into his face.

“Okay,” You mumbled in front of the mirror, guiding the razor across your skin. Wincing when you nicked yourself and hoping you don’t do that again.

“It’ll get easier, trust me,” He assured, slicking the last bit of cream off of his clean face. He mostly kept himself clean shaven, though there was a time where he rocked a thin mustache. Even some musky stubble around his cheeks. Which you loved.

And so was your transition.

In time, you qrew to love and enjoy your body even more. Seeing the face you so expected- and wished for- being reflected in the mirror. Muscles come in, adjusting your body shape to one that you desired.

Brian was very supportive. Even helped you find a good doctor for your top surgery. He pitched in money for your procedure, taking some extra hours as the store manager at the record shop where he worked. He was planning on taking it over from the owner in a few years. He had helped them expand into a second storefront. He was proud of it.

He drove you to your surgery, making sure you had everything prepared. Extra magazines, music, books, even your sketch pad and journal if you so wished it. You would sleep after your surgery in the hospital bed, groggy and tired from the boat load of meds and painkillers lulling you to a peaceful state. He wanted to make sure you were content, that you healed well and passed the time while you recovered. The tiny hospital tv having few channels to capture your attention. He ready to help you pass the time.

After your surgery, you couldn’t move your arms very much. At least not above your head. It would pull at your incisions, the area bruised and draining of fluids. He would tend to you, changing your bandages and helping you get things from the kitchen cupboards. Asking you to relax and let him take over- when you insisted on cooking dinner. That you felt fine, that the pain wasn’t too bad. Even though your chest ached, he didn’t want you to push yourself.

It was okay to lean on someone else, to let them tend to you at times in need.

He adored you and embraced the new found man you had become. He liked hearing you softly talk into his ear, listening to how your voice had dropped. Had changed, deepened, and thickened. It was an adventure for the both of you, one that you happily embraced and found a new home. In you, yourself, and each other.

He was proud to call you his boyfriend, his favorite man on Earth.

#gleaming the cube #brian kelly #brian kelly x reader #brian kelly x trans masc reader #brian kelly x transman reader #brian kelly x transgender #trans #trans man #fan fic #tyler writes #queer fan fic #queer #i fucking loved writing this fic #gender euphoria #its okay to be trans #being trans is BEAUTIFUL!#happy and healthy relationships #based in love and support for one another #wholesome

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drowningbydegrees · 4 years ago

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Witcher Masterpost

You can find my AO3 here if that’s your thing, but here are links to all my Witcher creations.

Fic - One Shots

MUSIC PROMPT LIST FICS Prompt List

A Love Like This | G | 1,009 Words | No Warnings Apply Jaskier does nothing quietly. He is bright colors and endless conversation. He is music and theatrics. He unapologetically takes up space, bold and loud and impossible to ignore. Jaskier does nothing quietly.

Except for this.

Written for the Music Prompt 4. Dolce AO3 | Tumblr

Nothing But the Background Noise | T | 3,385 Words | No Warnings Apply Geralt has always been at home with silence. It’s a quality that lends itself well to the life of a witcher, this ability to find peace instead of loneliness in the quiet of his own company. But they spend that night in their room’s single bed and Geralt lies awake wondering when the warm press of Jaskier’s face tucked against his neck became such a welcome thing, when his fingers tangling in the bard’s hair got to be so instinctive. When did Jaskier’s get to be so wrapped up in his life as to leave Geralt dreading the absence?

In which Geralt realizes that sometimes you don't discover how much of a fixture something is in your life until you're forced to contemplate not having it.

Written for the Music Prompt 8. Incidental Music AO3 | Tumblr

Call Me a Casualty | T | 1,670 Words | No Warnings Apply He has a plan.

Okay, admittedly calling it a plan is somewhat of an exaggeration. What Geralt has is an overwhelming sense of grief that floods the empty spaces left behind as his temper ebbs, and the horrifying realization that while it all hurts, it’s Jaskier’s departure that leaves his heart aching. What he has is an urgent need to set things right, and only a nebulous idea of how to do so. For starters though, he needs to catch up to Jaskier. That’s a straightforward task to set his mind to, and Geralt assumes he’ll figure out the rest on the road.Written for the Music Prompt 16. Mosso AO3 | Tumblr

This Too Is Ours | E | 1,919 Words | No Warnings Apply

They fit like they were made for basking, tangled up with each other in the comfort of a warm bed while the snow falls outside He could go back to sleep, Jaskier thinks. It’s winter. He might be teaching, but it’s still a break of sorts. If he can’t sleep in now, then when can he?

Idly, he drags his palm down Geralt’s flank. There’s comfort in the familiar topography of the witcher’s body, and isn’t that a heady thought? Geralt is - has allowed himself to be - familiar territory. It seems a silly thing to be so giddy over, but Jaskier smiles as he nuzzles against the nape of Geralt’s neck.

AO3 | Tumblr

OTHER ONE SHOTS

Something To Hold Onto | T | 11,146 Words | No Warnings Apply

“Is it some kind of prank, do you think?” Jaskier asks, squinting at the noticeboard.

It’s littered with contracts, each more peculiar than the last. Missing people, haunted houses, someone convinced his sister is possessed because she’s acting strangely. The last is vague, giving no indication of what “strangely” even means. It would be weird for a sizable city like Novigrad, but it’s completely nonsensical in a village as small as Hillcrest, which is barely large enough to support an inn. The notices are all quite new, so normally Geralt would be tempted to write it off as someone being a menace. But the writing is different, the paper is different, all of it is different enough that it’s probably not one person.

As it turns out, there is no prank, leaving Geralt to try to fix things before whatever is wrong with Hillcrest consumes them all.

AO3 | Tumblr

We Break Like Waves | T | 3,469 Words | No Warnings Apply

For three days, they are happy. It matters less that Geralt struggles to put to words what Jaskier means to him when it’s all right there, neatly conveyed in the simple band wrapped around the bard’s finger. Jaskier holds his hand out to admire it for what must be the hundredth time, smiling as the candlelight catches facets of the solitary ruby set in gold.

What begins as a long overdue honeymoon ends, as things so often do in Geralt's life, in disaster.

AO3 | Tumblr

Noonwraiths and Other Woodland Forest Creatures | T | 3,716 Words | No Warnings Apply

Jaskier is used to his favorite customer, who is possibly some sort of cryptid, showing up at odd hours. What he's not used to is said customer showing up injured.

A modern AU featuring 24 hour diner server Jaskier and Geralt who is... still a witcher.

AO3 | Tumblr

If You Say It Again | T | 4,243 Words | No Warnings Apply

Geralt is what Jaskier cheerfully describes as "forever years old" when he discovers that okay, maybe he is just the littlest bit affected by… actually he’s not sure what one would call this. He’s not even sure if it’s specifically what was said or just the act of being spoken to like a person in a vulnerable moment. Either way, it’s more than a little unexpected, but that’s not actually the problem. After all, everyone finds themselves unraveled by something a little unorthodox now and again, and in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t really all that weird.

AO3 | Tumblr

Left All the Lights Burning (But Nobody's Home) | M | 3,739 Words | No Warnings Apply Geralt is quiet, but he’s always quiet, so that really doesn’t mean much. When he can’t hear the witcher, Jaskier squints at the dark room, wishing his friend didn’t absolutely insist on wearing black all the time. “I don’t suppose you can do that magicky thing you do and break us out of here?”

No answer comes.

Written for Whumptober prompt 26. concussion AO3 | Tumblr

For the Space of a Heartbeat | T | 2,021 Words | No Warnings Apply As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after. AO3 | Tumblr

Rosetta Stone | G | 1,408 Words | No Warnings Apply It’s not a seduction that the bard settles on, at least not in any traditional sense. There’s no lack of attraction (really, Jaskier is continuously baffled by how anyone could look at Geralt and not want him), but it’s background noise. He thinks of this more like finagling the two of them into some sort of harmony.

In which Jaskier realizes that while his affection for Geralt is almost certainly returned, they say it in entirely different ways, and takes it upon himself to translate.

AO3 | Tumblr

Untitled | G | 517 Words | No Warnings Apply Reply to the prompt: What about when Geralt first realizes he's in love with Jaskier? Tumblr

Something is Bound to Give | T | 2,754 Words | No Warnings Apply For the space of a single breath Geralt concedes. He almost melts into Jaskier’s painstakingly careful touch, the soothing way the bard invites him to take refuge in someone else for a little while, but then Geralt’s mind catches up with the rest of him. AO3

Where You and I Collide | T | 1,388 Words | No Warnings Apply The words don’t pass his lips. At first Jaskier thinks this is too new, too fragile a thing that’s come into being between them. Then, he fears that perhaps they don’t mean the same thing by any of this, that perhaps he’s offered up his heart to someone who has no use for it. Based on a prompt asking for something about Jaskier and Geralt struggling with feelings. AO3 | Tumblr

Fill in the Blanks | G | 1,438 Words | No Warnings Apply “I want nothing.”

The thing is, it’s not a lie. Not really. It’s just that it’s an incomplete sentence.. AO3 | Tumblr

I’ll Wish Upon Embers | E | 9,128 Words | No Warnings Apply

“But allow me to raise this one point for your consideration.” There it is, accompanied by Jaskier’s expression scrunching in a way that Geralt is exasperated to realize he finds rather endearing. “Have you ever tried?” --- Geralt lets Jaskier talk him into sticking around for a village's midsummer festival. He assumes they're staying for Jaskier's benefit, but somewhere between the flower crowns and the bonfire, Geralt realizes it was a gift meant for him all along.

AO3 | Tumblr

Fic - Multi-part

Though I Try Not To | E | 16,120 Words | No Warnings Apply “You didn’t come back,” Geralt murmurs as if that somehow covers everything.

AO3

Even in the Dark I Know You | M | 8,196 Words | No Warnings Apply The thing is, he’s seen Geralt in a bad way. Even the witcher can’t always avoid injury in his line of work, and so Jaskier has plenty of practice patching him up. But this is new, and it makes something awful and anxious twist in Jaskier’s stomach.

A contract goes wrong leaving Geralt captive and stripped of most of his senses by the time Jaskier gets to him. Part one is based on the Geralt Whump Week day four prompt of betrayal and part two is based on the day five prompt of loneliness

AO3 | Tumblr 1 | 2 | 3

Even if it Hurts (Even if it Makes Me Bleed) | E | 25,074 Words | No Warnings Apply

Is that a pickup line? Maybe. It’s the worst one Geralt has ever heard in his very long life, but that isn’t the problem. The problem races, red hot down the length of his forearm, pooling uncomfortably around his soulmark. The scrawled out writing on the underside of his wrist had told Geralt the first thing his soulmate was going to say to him as soon as he could read. Silly as it had sounded, it’s even more ridiculous out loud.

To say Geralt is not a fan of destiny is a monumental understatement. Given the fact that the soul mark scrawled out on his wrist is the worst pickup line he's ever heard, he doesn't anticipate his soulmate being any more welcome than anything else that life has saddled him with. But the longer he spends with Jaskier, the harder his soulmate is to resist, and somewhere along the way Geralt knows he'll have to reckon with whether his feelings are manufactured by kismet or truly his own.

AO3 | Tumblr

Once Written in the Stars | E | 15,512 Words (WIP) | No Warnings Apply When Geralt accidentally trespasses on a fae forest, only the unexpected kindness of one of the forest's inhabitants saves him. Unfortunately, it also leaves him saddled with a travel companion who has never really met a human, let alone thought about how to play at being one. It goes about as well as you'd think. AO3 | Tumblr 1 | 2 | 3

Art Stuff

Geraskier Gif Set Set to Stray Italian Greyhound by Vienna Teng

Geraskier Image Set Set to Civil War by @sincerelyjoanna-blog-blog

Geraskier Watercolor Edit

#Geraskier #Geralt X Jaskier #Gerlion #The Witcher #jaskier x geralt #my fic #my art #masterpost

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izar-tarazed · 24 days ago

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Maybe she'd find her way home eventually.

Ashen Izar is still on her journey, and no longer a raisin. She solves most problems by setting them on fire; it's shockingly viable.

#the stars are never far from a sorcerer's side | storytelling #welcome to the bonfire | dark souls 3 #dark souls 3

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writing-the-end · 4 years ago

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LoL Chapter 3- Gildara

Master Post

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

In the Northern fields of Lairyon, Gildara waits for the Order of Hermits. The land around them is different...dying. Is this what the Magistrate sent them to discover? What kind of creature, what kind of plague causes this? The only way for them to find out is by going deeper- literally.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It’s like a sea of grass. Look at how it rolls like waves.” Scar whistles, watching wheat dancing in the wind.

Doc nudges Grian. “I see where you stole your hair now.”

Grian takes off after Doc, shrugging off the hybrid’s attempt to puppeteer him and tackling into the ground. Iskall steps over the two, deep in conversation with Ren. The two share a fistbump, before Iskall casts his magic circle. A molded rod of radioactive material, which he’s dubbed iskallium, appears before them. Iskall grabs his creation and gives it a flourish. Ren attempts to mimic Iskall’s magic, his own magic circle starting red before turning a muted green.

Just behind Iskall and Ren practicing, Cub, Scar, and Joe are deep in a conversation about the land around them. Wide fields of wheat, surrounded by row after row of carrots, potatoes, and more. This is the breadbasket of Lairyon. At the edge of the fields that surround the road, tall pines loom at the base of rocky mountain climbs. They’re south of Foresta, yet to cross Turtle River, but still within the fertile soil that the city is known for.

A shadow passes over the traveling guild, before red wings flap to the ground. Tango turns around, red eyes anguished as he grips his flaming hair. TFC notices the body language of their scout, and steps forward. The entire road goes quiet, the guild the only travelers on this route. “What did you see?”

“Its… I don’t know how to explain it. It’s big.” Tango’s wings fold away and disappear.

“The monster?” Zed asks, creeping closer to his friend.

“The destruction?” Impulse adds, following. Both trying to comfort Tango. He looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

Tango shakes his head, his fiery hair half a step slower than his initial movement. “It looks like a black scar, like a dark bruise against the land. But nothing is destroyed. It- I can’t describe it, man. You just gotta keep walking. We’ll see.”

And so they do. Tango seems shocked by what he saw, and the hermits try to ease his fears. With time, the emotions are eased and everyone relaxes when Tango can smile again. They’re more than just a guild. They’re a family. Most of them only have each other, and as chaotic as their guild can be, they’ll do anything to make sure each person is happy and safe. They care about each other, comfort each other.

Ren stays near Tango, telling jokes and stories to keep up everyone’s morale. His brown ears prick up as he hears a change in the wind around him. He feels something brush against the skin of his feet, and looks down. “Whoa, my dudes.”

Everyone stops, turning to look at Ren. He’s gazing beyond his sandaled feet, to the ground. A swirl of grey, clawing along the dirt like a vine reaching for a tree to choke from life, reaches out towards the gilded fields and verdant forests. Ren scrapes the sole of his shoe against the dirt, trying to scrape away the ash. But no matter how deep he digs, it remains monochrome. And it’s growing before their very eyes.

Another skein of grey reaches past Joe’s feet, and he hops away from the strange phenomenon. He shivers, pulling his cape closer to his body. Despite being a warm summer day in north Lairyon, he feels like an icy breeze has just dug right into his bones. Into his core, striking at his heart and soul. He looks around, but Stress is nowhere near him.

“There’s more.” Scar whispers, pointing down the road. The creeping darkness reaches out towards them. Out from Gildara. “This has to be that ‘discrepancy’ that the magistrate spoke of.”

TFC bites his lip, but nods for the team to move forward. “Keep a tight watch, gang. Report anything out of the ordinary.”

They continue forward, walking into the monotone ground. Around them, the fields wither to ashen plains. BDubs steps off the road, picking up a stalk and looking closer at it. The color looks like it was burned, but he can still see each individual grain on the wheat. It looks like it wilted, poisoned or left without the ability to grow. The entire field looks the same way. Every field. Dead farms on colorless land.

The small town of Gildara rises in the distance. Tucked against the safety of a pine forest, with the open plains as it’s front yard. A short bridge rises over a dried creekbed into the village.

“It looks like they had a drought.” False whispers, pressing forward with the braver souls. Mumbo and Jevin slip into the middle, spooked by the village.

“It’s not a drought.” Grian responds, fingers playing with the ash colored needles of a tree. “These trees still look like they got a recent rain. That creek should be flowing.”

“And things just beyond this grey stuff are well fed.” Zedaph adds.

“Guys?” Iskall calls out, hurrying back to the group as they continue through the monochrome town. “Wh-where is everyone?”

TFC stops, looking around. The town is small, but the houses look warm and welcoming. With large windows and open porches, but not a soul is to be seen. There’s no voices, no wails or whimpers. Not even a birdsong. No bodies, no bonfires. Doors remain closed, but shops are propped open, inviting customers to peruse wares. It’s like the entire town just simply...vanished. Everyone, every moving creature is gone.

“Cleo?” TFC looks over his shoulder, but she’s already on it. Turquoise blue magic wisping and waving across the open air, Cleo’s arms and fingers moving in a choreographed series until the spell is cast. But the circle goes nowhere, hanging in the dead air with nothing to attach to.

“There’s no bodies anywhere. No ghosts either. There’s nothing.” Cleo reports, letting the magic fizzle away. Beneath her, the ash colored ground sparks and swirls.

“It doesn’t look like a monster or bandits came through.” Xisuma notes. “There’s no sign of a fight, no claw marks or blood even.”

“So where is everyone?” Keralis rubs his arms, looking around. He coughs, his throat feeling tight and lungs feeling heavy, his body exhausted. Like a storm is moving in, the wall of high pressure sending them into lethargy. Well, most of them. Grian gets excited, but even now he looks pressed.

“Let’s check town center. If there’s anywhere we’ll find clues, it’ll be there.” TFC points down the road. The guild stays silent, as silent as the world around them. Devoid of color, until one of them looks up the mountainside. Beyond the clawing darkness, they can still see the dark green of alpine forests. The further into town they walk, the more the pressuring feeling rises. Like they’re being crushed, like air trapped deep within a mountain. Far underground, and just as dead and unmoving. Even the wind has stopped blowing.

“What is that?” Etho questions, pointing towards the well at the center of the town square. The grey turns as black as ink, crawling free from the stone well and dispersing out into the grey blemish across the land. Etho tries to slip into the shadow of the darkness, but there’s nothing. It’s not a shadow- this is something else.

Cub peers down the well, into the dark hole. “It’s coming from the water supply. Are we sure this isn’t some plague or poison?”

“It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen.” Doc points out. Beside him, Scar activates his magic and creates a series of steps. Down the well’s stony walls, the hermits descend into darkness. Into the maws of the beast.

“Anybody got a light?” False questions, the only visible thing before her being Cub and Scar’s eyes as they glow a faint blue.

“I got it.” Impulse pushes Tango forward, his hair illuminating the cave system they are within. Following the underground stream that terraforms the rock.

Tango sighs. “I think I can do better than just my hair, man.” He draws his scrawling magic circle, summoning up flame that dances just above his hand.

“And this is why having the explosives mage and a fire mage living in the same house is a bad idea.” False groans, but let’s Tango take point. He directs the flame, funneling the light as best he can forward.

“Or we could just make Grian get his archangel aura.” BDubs adds.

“We’ll be blinded then.” Mumbo adds, feeling his friend shift beside him nervously. He’s still healing from the last time he used his ultimate power.

The cave around them opens up into a cavern, and Tango’s torchlight stops. Tango pulls his hand down, blowing on the flame. Trying to get the fire to burn brighter. But no matter how fierce the fire burns, it can’t make it through the darkness around them.

Because the crystal before them takes it all. Absorbs all his light, leaving none to bounce along the walls of the cave. It hurts to breathe, the air thick as water and as heavy as rocks. The crystal hovers in the air, just above the spring of water. As soon as the creek wells, it evaporates. Turns to darkened ash, neutralized by the crystal above it. Tango steps back, behind TFC. “Alright man, this is your thing. What kind of creepy crystal makes water and color disappear?”

“And what did it do to the town above us?” Cleo finishes, watching as TFC steps closer. He raises a gloved hand, pressing it against the cool, smooth crystal edge. He immediately retreats his touch, waving his hand like it burned him.

“Whatever it is, it isn’t good. We should break it, and hopefully it’ll break whatever curse it’s causing on the town.” He steps back, feeling dizzy and fatigued. His head feels fuzzy. Impulse steps up first, a bright yellow circle quickly drawn and tossed onto the crystal. Seconds later, the magic explodes and the air shocks outward.

The crystal is unharmed. Impulse tries again, this time with Ren mimicking him on the other side. The gem is as smooth as before. Xisuma steps up, snapping his fingers. But the destructive void magic is useless. Even when Ren’s imagination magic tries it’s hand in joint with Joe’s poetry, the crystal remains.

Things get more aggressive. BDubs wraps a vine around the crystal, but upon touching the gem the plants wither and turn to blackened ash. Scar tries to pierce the jewel with stone, but it falls apart like silt, raining over the guild. Finally, False gives in and charges the gem. With a two handed sword raised, she leaps and swings the blade into the ebony stone. And immediately, the metal rusts and decays.

“How do we break this?” Stress questions, picking at the rusted remains of False’s sword.

“I don’t know, but Magistrate Dolios needs to know about this.” TFC steps up, despite the sickening feeling he gets near the crystal. He feels weak, tired. Using a diamond and his magic, he’s able to break off a tiny piece. Hardly even bigger than his pinky fingernail, but the best he can do. For a second, he swears he can feel the crystal vibrate beside him. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t like this.”

The whole guild is in agreement, turning back the way they came. But the way is blocked. Grian’s face lights up as he sees the faces of farmers and villagers. “Look, this must be where the townfolk have been hiding!”

“Grian wait-” Iskall reaches out, grabbing Grian by his cloak and pulling him back. “They...something doesn’t look right.”

Tango raises his flame, trying to see the strangers. Trying to get a better look through the black and grey air. But they’re the same color, and the edges of their bodies, their fingers and limbs flaking away like embers and ash. “I… I think the crystal has grey-ificated them as well.”

The woman’s eyes snap open, revealing haunting white eyes. The iris is gone, only glowing luminosity remaining. Her hands raise up, and a magic circle appears. It doesn’t look right- her motions are sloppy and the inscriptions are poorly drawn. Magic snaps and seethes across the air, uncontrolled and uncontained.

The ground beneath the hermits feet turns soft, rock and dirt turning into quicksand and engulfing the legs of the hermits. A farmer behind the wizard raises his hand, pointing blankly to the crystal. And behind the struggling guild, the swearing and grunting to escape the mud scape, the crystal awakens. A black mist swirls around the crystal.

Then strikes towards the captured hermits.

#hermitcraft #LoL #light of lairyon #hermitblr #wizard au #wizard hermits #wizard scar #gtwscar #wizard grian #grianmc #hermitcraft au #wizard tango #wizard ren #wizard tfc #wizard cleo #tango tek #rendog #tinfoilchef #zombiecleo

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wintersoldierland · 5 years ago

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season of the witch

Everything seems black and white in the light of the moon. That's how the village is on All Soul's Day and Tony is used to it by now. The air is always thick with magic and everything is cold, no matter how sunny the day is.

When the veil between worlds is so thin, everything is cold.

He breathes out and watches as the air dances in front of him, faint marks against the stark black of the night. Something pulls the air towards the forest, as always, an ancient song and that empty laughter echoing between the trees.

Tony just stands next to someone's house and watched as the people prepare. The bonfire is gathered, tables are settled, people ate getting dressed, but everything is done in silence. No one is eager to attract ghosts by speaking too loudly.

Tony is a man of logic, but he remembers his father.

Remembers the night he disappeared.

Remembers lighting a candle at 3 am and begging for the witch to take his father, to make him stop hurting Tony. He remembers being 8 years old and watching the shadows grow thicker, the air colder.

He remembers leaving a pretty offering at the edge of the forest and coming back the next day to a pile of feathers in its place.

Tony is a man of logic, but he's not stupid. He believes in the witch. He believes in ghosts that crawl on Earth during the All Soul's Day.

He also never saw the witch, which is why he wants to do it.

Without telling Jarvis he sneaked out of the castle and rode to the village, the closest one to the witch's house. Everything is ready - the bonfire is lit, blue flowers everywhere, and a faint frost settling over the grass.

Their witch is old and cold and powerful and Tony can't wait to see him.

When everyone is busy with the bonfire, welcoming the spirits, Tony hops on his horse and sets into the forest. On his way, he passes the house of Old Margaret - a woman who used to bring Tony salves for his bruises. He stops there for a second and looks at her all, shaking frame.

She steps closer and presses a bundle into Tony's hands. “Give him this, sag it's from Peggy. He'll know.”

Tony just nods. A song filters through the air as if rejoicing at the mere mention of Peggy. The old woman laughs as the wind sweeps through her hair and for a second, Tony sees someone else in her place - a young fierce lady with hard eyes and a kind smile. Not much has changed.

He starts riding again, but she calls after him.

“Be careful, Tony. It is the season of the witch. “

For some reason, the words send a shiver down his spine. Every 13 years there is a season of the witch, the time when the magic is the strongest; when witches can perform the most powerful spells, cast whole lands under their control.

As he rides further into the forest, Tony can almost taste the metallic taste of the magic that is soaking the air. It's thrilling, to slowly ride through the forest and hear the animals awaken. From the corner of his eye, he can see glowing figures, sudden sweeps of cold, inaudible whispers. He tightens his hold on the reins and convinces himself to keep going. He's 21 and he will meet the witch.

Soon, the chill settles into his bones.

No matter how warm his coat is, Tony still feels like he's freezing, and each gust of the wind only makes him shiver more. His horse is nervous too, looking around as if expecting a pack of wolves to attack them. Tony knows it won't happen.

No predator dares to hunt on the All Soul's Day.

Before he knows it, Tony has to leave his horse behind and walk on foot. The ground is saturated with water, even though it hasn't rained and there's no lake in the near vicinity. Must be the magic then.

He walks closer to the place where they say the house is, but soon the fog starts to appear and thicken, making it impossible to get any sense of direction.

Tony's breathing speeds up, but he's determined, so he walks further and further, trying not to stumble. The water rises and soon he's ankle-deep in it and the cold seeps into his feet, but he still keeps going. He needs to thank the witch.

Then, something changes.

The air becomes absolutely freezing and the fog clears instantly, unveiling a lake. A lake that's never been there, with a small island, perfectly in the middle. The water looks silver in the moonlight, aside from the coast where it seems like the shadows are trying to steal some of the lake away.

Tony's breathing stops when he finally notices the lone figure standing on the other side of the lake, cloaked in the shadows. He instantly knows.

This is the witch.

His heartbeat speeds up when the witch's eyes focus on him. Even from the distance, he can see how they're glowing pale blue, eerie and knowing. Tony doesn't say anything, paralyzed with fear. Every muscle in his body is tight with tension, prepared to bolt, but then the witch nods at him and something changes.

The water in front of him changes colour until it's black as the shadows. The witch nods at him again, as if beckoning him closer, and while he doesn't take orders from anyone, Tony isn't dumb. He has to answer the call.

Without thinking about it, Tony steps on the water and gasps when his feet meet solid ground. He keeps walking, not looking around, focused on his steps, and before he knows it, Tony's on the island.

The ground there feels wrong somehow as if someone sullied it, and he almost gags when he sees what it is - a totem made out of people.

Too many heads. Too many limbs.

He doesn't dare to take a step back and then the witch is next to him, still clouded by darkness. He's tall, taller than Tony, and broad. He wars the shadows as if they're made for him and when the witch reaches out with one hand, Tony can see that the flesh is rotten - black and twisted, with claws in place on nails.

He doesn't gag.

“A brave one, aren't you?” the witch asks, in a voice that's neither male nor female. There are hundredths of voices in that one voice, all echoing and screeching, some young, some old, some male, some female. Tony feels a shiver go down his spine that has nothing to do with the cold.

“I have a gift for you,” he says instead, voice fairly steady. Tony's stubbornly ignoring the human totem. “From Peggy.”

The witch laughs and this time, there's only once voice. Male and rough, but somehow melodic. Tony's insides quiver.

“Ah yes, Peggy. Is she still as fierce?”

“Yes. She helped me with my father. As did you.” Tony pauses, looking for words. “Thank you.”

The witch nods again, before walking closer to the totem. He seems angry, and Tony just has to ask.

“Did you make it?”

The witch scoffs. “No. The villagers did.”

For a second, Tony doesn't know how to answer. The villagers…

“Now I must lead those poor souls home.”

With that, the witch reaches out with one hand and something rises from the lake. That silver-blue hue appears around him and the shadows escape, showing Tony the witch for the first time - male and handsome with long brown hair threaded with raven feathers and beads. Braided. Glowing eyes surrounded by blackened veins and full lips.

He's absolutely beautiful.

The magic spreads through the air, igniting a fire in Tony's belly, and touches the totem. Slowly, one by one, souls begin to appear. It's not the first time Tony saw a soul, but these ones are different, more solid.

They all kneel in front of the witch, and he smiles. The smile changes his whole face, making it almost glow. Tony swallows dryly.

“It's time,” the witch says. “Go home.”

At once, they all walk towards the lake and submerge in it. The water glows, just like the souls, and the witch holds the power for a second, bright and eerie and echoing through Tony's bones. His black, tattered clothes flap in the wind, and for a second, he flickers from view.

In his place, appear hundreds of other people. All genders, all ages, all glowing and adjourned with raven feathers. Some have black eyes, some have glowing skin, but they're all one and the same.

It's breathtaking and Tony steps a bit closer, feels the coldness of the magic against his skin. When he reaches with one hand, a black hand catches his wrist.

Tony gasps and his eyes widen when the witch, back to his previous form, brings him closer. He can feel feathers and dead leaves against his clothes, rustling and crumbling as his chest presses against the witch's.

“Call me James, brave one,” the witch says, his voice now warm and soothing. That same black hand touches his cheek, cupping it gently and Tony leans into the touch, guided by an invisible force.

“I'm Tony,” he says, breathless.

In answer, the witch, James, laughs. “I know. I always know.”

James changes his position until Tony can watch as the totem crumbles into ash and a cold wind swirls them around until they too hit the water. Tony just watches, enchanted and breathless, stunned by the effortless magic that feels so heavy in his bones.

“We'll meet again, Tony. Maybe this time you'll remember,” James says and lays one hand on the centre of his chest.

It burns and it doesn't he when his hand starts to glow with bright blue flame, and when Tony wakes up at the edge of the forest, there's a blue flower pressed there. A gift from James.

The next time they meet, Tony does remember.

James doesn't.

#winteriron #bucky barnes #tony stark #my writing #witch bucky #spooky story #ugh listen its kind of weird i know #but basically i wanna say that #bucky and tony keep meeting (these other voices in bucky's voice)#and bucky always remembers while tony never does #so in the next one tony does but james canonically has no memories #and yes that blue flower is kinda like the arc reactor #buckytony

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chimswae · 4 years ago

Text

Untold Bonus Part 3

Foreword:

Some stories are better left unsaid.I couldn’t change anything for the world, although the fame part of this industry is tough to handle.Do i have a life? Yes I have my fans.Do i have friends? Yes the members that I cherish. Do i have love? No I have to let go.Life always offers you a second chance. It’s called tomorrow. But do i have any tomorrow?

Pairing: Jimin x OC (Other characters: BTS, OCs, Lee Taehwan)

Genre: Idolau, Fluff, Romance, Father!Au

Word Count: 2,324

Author Note: I totally forget to finish update Untold! forgive me ;; This is an old story of mine i think i wrote it in 2017, so please ignore my clicheness and the excessive usage of clicheness~ that makes u cringe haha

You can check full masterlist below :)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Part 3

Although their camel tour ended a little comically, everyone had fun. Hoseok on the other hand was salty the whole day because of the poop incident. As soon as they reached their hotel, Hoseok spent at least two hours in the bathroom alone taking super long bath just to get rid of the smell or whatever he thought it was. He claimed it was to stabilize his mental state after the horrifying event.

Hoseok could be a little too dramatic sometimes, no one could stop that guy.

Leaving Hoseok with his delusional thought, others went to get dinner at nearby restaurant and bought takeaways food for him to savor later on. Enjoying the night city view, the stars sparkle in the night sky.

“I love the city when it shuts down” Jimin whispers.

Yeoul smiled upon hearing that low and raspy voice of his, so enticing. They both strolled the parks pedestrian pathways following others from behind silently. The streets was empty, there were minimal number of people around and most of them were couples. The emptiness was strange and magnificent.

“This is perfect” she squished their hand tighter.

In front of them, there were Taehyung with his cameras and his loyal assistant Kim Namjoon, his eyes fixated on his gadgets. These two guys sometimes stopped in the middle of their walk to take good picture and admiring them afterwards. Or ended up bickering over Vante’s photos.

Maknae and Jin on the other side were busy scanning the city and finding good spots to shop, though there were fewer shops opened past 11. The couple did not give up on whatever they were planning to buy, more like souvenirs.

Taehwan and Yoongi went back earlier than them since they wanted to catch up their sleep, with that they offered to bring Minyeol together. Poor Minyeol being dragged around by the adults. Not to mention, they still had to feed loner Jung Hobi, that guy must be starving.

Yeoul and Jimin took their time to enjoy this night stroll exchanging funny stories or stealing glances. Being with Jimin taught Yeoul how to swoon him with a simple flirt and playful kisses. She was taught well.

“Baby..Let’s ditch them” he tugged on Yeoul arm preventing her to move.

“Are you crazy? They will flip out” raising her eyebrows with a questionable look, she watched Jimin took his phone typing something in his phone.

Jimin grinned “Done. I notify them in our Kakaotalk group,so lets go” he pecked her lips, intertwining their hand together. Yeoul could only smile at his randomness and followed him wherever he wished to go. Anywhere with Jimin is everywhere she wanted to be.

Like a flash the couple disappeared from their vicinity for their own oh-not-so-romantic midnight tour. Jin and Jungkook had so much sense in them that they did not even care when they left unlike someone who insisted of following those two. Another reason how they ended in Morocco anyways, Kim Taehyung really need to stop pursuing different career in his life. The preferred V and Vante for now.

Please don’t turn him into Varazzi or something.

------------------------

There sitting side by side, two pure soul enjoying each other company under dark sky accompanied by the heat from the bonfire across them. Being drawn by the warmth of their body heat, Yeoul snuggled in Jimin’s embrace smiling as he rested his chin on top of her head.

The fire glimmered and gleamed, its warmth drawn people in creating an atmosphere for sharing and making memories. As the night grows, they wished to linger around just a little longer in the warmth and contentment around the fire.

Everything about tonight was perfect.

“Aren’t you tired?” he was the one who first broke the silence between them.

Jimin felt Yeoul shifted a little in his embrace and soon he heard she replied “Tired of what? You? That is impossible.. I prefer to cling onto you for the rest of my life” she teased while wrapping her arm around his waist tighter.

“You cannot be tired of me. My charms are overflowing” he gazed down into her dark orbs. A pair of eyes that never failed to draw him in into this crazy world. World with unspeakable love. World that fills with hope. World that fills with happiness.

If she were to list down her weakness when it came to Jimin, his gaze would definitely on the list. In fact, that’s her utmost weakness.

“Aren’t you being a little over confident right now Park Jimin-ssi?” she ran her thumb over his lips, stroking it softly.

“I don’t mind if it is you I am trying to win over” caressing the back of his hand along Yeoul’s soft cheeks, Jimin closed the gap between them and locking her into a long endearing kiss. A kiss that he wished to give everyday.

Their lips move just perfectly in sync following their rapid heartbeat. He stroke over her back in a light touch that sent tingles in her heart. Every time their lips touched the spark ignite anew. Yeoul placed her palm upon his chest over his heart and felt it strong steady beat. The kiss deepened as she could feel with every stroke of his tongue latching onto hers.

They broke the kiss to catch a deep breath “You are irresistible Park Jimin” Yeoul mumbled against his lips.

“I am sorry. You have to deal with it until death do us part” nuzzling her face, Jimin chuckled softly.

“I don’t mind” this time Yeoul was the one who initiate their second round. Locking her arm around his neck tight, she pulled him down for another kiss. Who knows a kiss with Jimin can be addicting? Well Yeoul had her whole life to deal with it.

----------------------

It was time to get back to reality. Everyone was physically ready to be back in Korea but not mentally. They will be missing Morocco for sure. Nonetheless, thanks to Kim Taehyung unexpected plan Yeoul and Jimin stays in Morocco was extra fun than they expected. Creating new memories with their loved one especially Bangtan, Taehwan and Minyeol, it was beyond perfect.

Boarding the plane on time, everyone got into their seat. First class seat as they said, but Jungkook was stuck with Jin for the whole journey, how unfortunate. He liked his hyung but sometimes he’s a little too bubbly for someone at his age. Considering he is in the hyung line, Jungkook felt he had slowly shifted toward the maknae line.

Welcome aboard Kim Seokjin!

Even before the plane took off, Jin insisted to sit on the aisle and made Jungkook stay in the middle. They had no idea who would take the window seat but scratch that, he hoped that person wouldnt snore that much.

Jungkook eyes wandered at the direction of their seat and noticed the window seat was already occupied. He couldn’t get a full view of the person but he’s sure it was a girl. So, he sank in his seat carefully not to startle the girl whom seemed engross with her reading. She had earphone plugged in both of her ears got him less anxious to sit behind a stranger some more a girl.

The older boy came few minutes later with a triumph grin plastered across his face, more like mocking Jungkook for sitting beside a girl.

Maknae grunted under his breath feeling unfair as he sent death glare at Jin’s way “If it weren’t for you……” Jin dumbfounded look was even annoying.

As the plane was ready for take off, Jungkook stole a glance at the girl beside him. He admired her long eyelashes, and her soft fluffy cheeks which again reminded him Jimin’s puffy one. Her fingers were beautiful and those accessories that she wore fitted perfectly around it. He tore his gaze from examining her feature even more like a creep. Jungkook had no idea why was he so nervous when the girl beside him showed no interest to start a conversation even a simple hi.

You are so stupid Jungkook. He grimaced.

The first hour of the journey, Jungkook had decided to pay all his attention on the games in his phone. His mind sometimes was too wild and he tended to over thinking too. The girl snapped the book closed as she stifled her yawn, stretching her aching muscle.

She loved window seat since she had more space for herself and most importantly she didn’t have to deal with strangers on plane. Engaging into unimportant conversation was one thing, but she hated people who snore in the plane.

Thank god, the two guys beside him seemed normal. She totally forgot to take a glance at the guy beside him and only to realize he’s quite good looking. Not an average look for a man at his age, but his eyes and those visible veins were her weakness.

Reaching out to her hair, she’s about to tie it into a bun but only to lose grip on her red hairband. It landed just few inch from Jungkook’s feet. Jungkook realized that and put away his phone. He bent down to pick the hairband up but at the same time the girl was already reaching for it. Their head were hitting each other, earning a low gasp from both Jungkook and the girl.

Jungkook straightened up with a baffle look “I am so sorry” he apologized earnestly.

The girl took the hairband and rubbed her sore head with a small smile “It is alright. I am sorry for dropping this” their eyes met. The girl grew anxious at the sudden staring battle that they had right now. She touched her face in case she smeared her lipstick.

“I am sorry? Is there something wrong” she inquired.

He was brought back to his sense as he blurted without he realize “Nothing. You are just pretty” Jungkook himself couldn’t believe what’s coming out from his sinful mouth. Clasping his hand over his mouth, he patted it giving it a scold.

The girl blushed upon hearing his compliment as he watched him in horror “W-hat…” she faked a laugh and averted her gaze from Jungkook.

“I mean..I didn’t mean to say that. That is just weird. I am sorry again” He bowed a little hoping he would not scare the girl away. What’s wrong with him anyway? This stupid filthy little mouth gave away compliment so casually especially to a stranger like her.

She shook her head “It is alright. It must be the gravity” she reasoned.

Jungkook bit his lower lips to surpass his chuckle at her silly reply “Urm.. I am Jeon Jungkook by the way” he flashed her a charming smile not trying to win her over but that’s just how he smiled.

The girl was taken aback at first not expecting the guy beside her would introduce himself. This was the start of every conversation, how she hated that. Therefore just to be polite, she replied Jungkook casually “Nari…Son Nari” her eyes gleams.

“Nari.. Nice to meet you Nari-ssi”

“You too Jungkook-ssi”

Interestingly, this Son Nari girl seemed to not recognize him. Not to sound like a superstar, but to be frank everyone knew Bangtan Sonyeondan but for some reason this girl had zero idea of his existence as one of famous idol members.

After exchanging their names, they fell into silence again. Nari exasperated a sigh of relief knowing Jungkook was not a talkative person, so she could enjoy this plane ride with ease.

Little did Jungkook know, Jin was actually faking him being asleep. He heard it all up until those little innocent conversation made by Jungkook introducing himself to some random girl. It was a rare sight but he’s proud of his dongsaeng mustering his courage to talk to opposite sex.

Jungkook stiffened in his seat still contemplating whether to ask questions or kept his mouth shut. Part of him wanted to prolong this conversation as he was curious of this Son Nari person. A soft sigh escaped as his fingers fiddled nervously.

“You should be thanking me later Jeon” a soft voice whispered awfully low and close to his ears causing him to jerk backwards accidentally hitting Nari again.

“I AM SO SORRY AGAIN” he looked over at the confused girl and threw a nasty glare at Jin, grinding his teeth together.

“You seem to have the knack of bumping into others clumsily” she chortled.

The corner of his lips tugged into an embarrass smile “I thought there was a bug on my seat” he lied. Studying her facial more clearly know, he could tell she’s judging him considering how hard she tried to hold back her laughter.

“Actually you kinda remind me of one of my friends.. he is..” Nari couldn’t believe with her own eyes that she actually felt comfortable talking to a stranger exchanging their stories and life which was she rarely did every time in public.

But..Jungkook. Something about him made it feel different.

Was it his smiley face?

Was it his perfectly round eyes?

Was it his giggly side every time he got shy?

It had always been a start of something new. Nari could use new friends.

Previous | Next: Epilogue

#untoldseries #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jimin x oc #jimin idolau #jimin father au #park jimin father au #bts series #jimin parenthood au

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ask-mingle · 5 years ago

Photo

A little something for @ask-star-singer Uncensored version here: https://inkbunny.net/s/1969558 https://twitter.com/AskMingle/status/1170716311628013569 Since we were talking about a possible scenarios in Dark Souls 3 me, and him could go through (but never did, for technical reasons XP ), and that was very inspiring. As a bonus, I decided to exercise my writing skills, and made a little erotic fanfic. You can read it, if You want, and let me know, should I do things like that from time to time, or should I never, ever do it again X3 But beware, if You never played any of the Dark Souls games (especially the third one), You may get very lost and confused, as I’m using in-game vocabulary, and terms. Mingle was getting a bit irritated. She died trice already, always waking up near this one bonfire of the Central Irithyll. Once by the hands of the burning-stake witch, surprising her with a tower of flame, rising from underneath her. Once she got overwhelmed by a bunch of some sort of undead slaves, surrounding her, and striking her with several greatswords. But the last time was the worst. She got past the beautiful, snowy square with the fountain, just to be invaded by some asshole with a fat-looking, covered partially with fur armor. He was clearly stronger than her, toying with her, making insulting gestures, and throwing knives at her. He finally finished her with a backstab, but not before groping her in a disgusting manner, squeezing her breast, and pressing her butt against his legs.

She took a moment to calm herself down after this unpleasant incident. The worst thing was – a part of her actually welcomed this erotic touch. She was traveling alone for such a long time, without taking breaks to… please herself, and her body just missed any caress at all. She collected her thoughts, determined and motivated. She can do it now. She will press forward, kill all the enemies, and find another bonfire. Mingle was sure of that. She just needed a little boost of health, so she stood up, and cracked an Ember in her hands. She felt strength flowing through her, and little burning flames started to dance on her elegant dress. She was ready to pick her sword, and march on, but then something caught her attention. A name written in glowing gold, right next to a bonfire. She was curious. That was not a typical placement for a summon sign. She just defeated an enormous skeleton engulfed in darkness, and a giant, wild beast defending the bridge. She did not expected another big adversary so soon. This would mean whoever left this sign, just wanted to help others, by guiding them through this place, and she found it very admirable, and sort of cute. She got on her knees, and gently stroked glowing letters, with her fingertips. The inscription read: “StarSinger”.

The flash of light came out of the sign, and she stared in awe, as from it, a well-built warrior with an angelic wings on his back arose, standing up, hands outstretched to the sky. When the glow disappeared, she immediately realized, that he was not enveloped in the golden aura, and she could see his features clearly. He must have been wearing an Untrue Dark Ring, which was yet another courtesy from him. In case they were invaded by anyone, he can act as a decoy, so their adversary will stay unsure, which one of them is a host – a much more rewarding pray, and which is the summon. This warrior already impressed her with his kindness, even if she saw him for just a few seconds, and they didn’t even set off yet. The face of the stranger was also very handsome, and he had a warm, welcoming smile.

They looked at each other for a longer moment, her mouth slightly opened in awe, and his eyes set on her face. They shifted a bit, presumably to get a better look at her, and then she saw his expression changing to the one, of a slight timidness, and a delicate blush popping on his cheek. She suddenly realized that she’s still on her knees, right in front of him, with her face almost at his crotch, staring with her lips half opened. And even worse than that, when she lowered her gaze in shame, she noticed that her nipples – erected from the cold of this snowy land, and a recent touch, were clearly visible from underneath her black, not fitted to accommodate the size of her breasts, blouse. She suddenly felt naked in front of this magnificent Warrior of Sunlight, and that excited, and aroused her even more. There was no denying it. She was horny, and wanted this stallion. Mingle opened her mouth wide, and let out a weak plea: - Take me! But seeing confusion on Star’s face, she remembered that voice does not travel across the different worlds, and she can’t communicate like that with her summon. So she closed her eyes, and started unbuttoning her shirt. For a moment a knight before her looked very abashed, and reached out with one hand, trying to stop her, but before he could, her blouse opened wide, letting her large breasts out, swaying slightly, and gracefully. That stopped him, and he retreated his arm, smiling. She dropped her eyes, below his waist, and saw a bulge, suggesting that the view was very pleasant to him. Mingle was really fascinated by this bulge. She tried to trace it down his leg, with her eyes, but it never seemed to end. At least not above the knee. She reached out with her hands touching it, which made it even stiffer. She couldn’t hold it any longer, grabbed his pants with both her hands, and slid them down. His stallionhood jumped up slapping her in her breast, on the way up to stop right in front of her surprised face. Star looked down a bit embarrassed, but then she took his cock in her both hands, starting to kiss, and lick it. She was quick, and passionate, while drawing circles with her tongue on his shaft, and he felt that pleasure is weakening his posture, so he swiftly drove his weapon into the stone floor they were standing on, and leaned on the giant shield, he carried with him, relaxing. It was a signal for Mingle to do whatever she wanted, so she opened her mouth wide, and put the end of his stallionhood inside, sucking, and moving her head back and forth. She was now so aroused, that she started playing with her own breasts. Star couldn’t see it, but she got all wet kneeling down, and pleasuring him. So much, that her juices started dripping on the cold stone tiles below her. She was out of control, and unable to stop. Star felt the pleasure building up, so he tried to slow her down, aware, that she can’t hear his moans, but then she pushed her head towards his body in one, strong move, forcing his entire shaft down her throat. He couldn’t bear this any longer, and came. Mingle felt her entire throat, and mouth being filled with warm, viscous substance. She tried to swallow whole, but there was just so much, that she pulled back, and a serving of sticky, white stuff landed on her lips, boobs, and dress.

She stood up, and bowed, thankful, and satisfied for just being able to serve this noble knight. But he noticed a wet stain on her skirt, and a small pool she left on the ground. He smiled. This warrior will not let her go, without making her come too. He approached her, placed a small kiss on her cheek, and then took a step backward, his cock still hard (apparently his journey was as long, and lonely as Mingle’s), and pointed his finger. Down at the stained floor first, and then moved it up, to her private parts. Her eyes widen, and a strong blush flooded her face, but she obediently reached down, and lifted her skirt up, exposing her naked marehood. It’s juices were dripping, and flowing down her legs. Star got even more excited, and so he got down on her, and started licking her. If he could hear her, he would know, how much pleasure he gave her. Mingle let out loud moans, but he didn’t stopped, until her legs started shaking, unable to support her anymore. He stood up, and turned her over, lifting her skirt up, and rubbing his stallionhood, against her buttcheeks. She quickly grabbed his Zwihander, sticking out of the ground, since she knew, she would not be able to support herself any longer. She barely did it, when she felt a long, warm shaft entering her marehood. She was so wet it went in quite easily, and the pleasure filled her entire body. She could barely maintain consciousness, when Star was pounding her from behind, holding her waist tightly, and thrusting his cock deeply into her. The never-ending Irithyll’s night bore witness as this warrior of the Sun mingled with the knightess of the DarkMoon, for a longer time, until they both were satisfied with an united, powerful orgasm, which filled air of Mingle’s world with a loud moan, and heavy panting.

This night later saw them setting off, carving their way through this abandoned city’s streets with their blades. Their worked well together, slashing enemies gracefully, and in unison, almost as if they were dancing together. His greatshield, and wings, always covered her, when she needed to take a sip of her Estus flask, and she always protected his back, with wide, frosty sweeps of her blade, whenever surrounding them adversaries got too close. He showed her the path, and all the secrets he knew of, leading right up, to the massive, beautiful church. She followed him, and from the stairs, she could already see the warm, orange glow of the bonfire – a goal, she was set on reaching. When entering through the main door, she saw inside another unkindled knight, her acquaintance, she met along the way, leaning against the wall. It seemed like a safe place to part ways. She looked back at Star, longingly, a bit sad, that their adventure is coming to an end. He probably read her thought, and possibly felt the same way, but it was time for them to part. So he took her hand, and kissed it, as it was the most fitting farewell for a noble knight, to give to a lady like her. But before he left he discretely pointed on stone statues that were stocked in the corner of the room, and rotated his hand, to give it a thumb down. A clear warning. He outstretched his body, and once again, lifted his arms way up, to the skies, praising the Sun, that was unable to reach this place, and disappeared in black, smoky swirl of the separation crystal, returning to his own world. Mingle looked at the corner of the room, squeezing a handle of her sword tight. She was ready to venture forth, alone again, and face whatever comes her way. But in her heart, she hoped, that maybe, even thought it was unlikely, she one day will once again come across a golden summon sign with a name, she will not forget, as long as she won’t turn hollow.

#mingle #ask-star-singer #star singer #pony #oc #fanfic #dark souls

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taysi-kuu · 5 years ago

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Samhain

Here is a small "guide" to help you celebrate samhain i have included some in depth spells as well as well as super simple things you can do if youre busy or just dont have the mental energy to celebrate. there is no "wrong way" to celebrate any of the sabbats, just because one person did a huge ritual doesn't mean doing something smaller and simple is any less meaningful. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Times to celebrate: In the northern hemisphere, many Pagans celebrate Samhain from sundown on October 31 through November 1. Others hold Samhain celebrations on the nearest weekend or on the Full or New Moon closest to this time. Some Pagans observe Samhain a bit later, or near November 6, to coincide more closely with the astronomical midpoint between Fall Equinox and Winter Solstice. Most Pagans in the southern hemisphere time their Samhain observances to coincide with the middle of their Autumn in late April and early May, rather than at the traditional European time of the holiday. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- What is Samhain: The third and final harvest festival on the Wheel of the Year is Samhain, observed on October 31. This Sabbat marks the end of the growing season and the beginning of Winter, which must be prepared for now in earnest. Herbs are dried for winter storage, fruits and vegetables are canned and preserved, and root vegetables are dug up and stored so they may nourish us through the cold months. The word “Samhain” comes from the old Irish and is thought by many to translate as “Summer’s end.” While the cycles of life and death are implicitly recognized at every Sabbat, Samhain is when the necessary role of death is formally honored. The nights grow noticeably longer with each day. The God retreats now into the shadows of the dark season, symbolically dying back to the Earth before being reborn again at Yule. Many Wiccans and other Pagans consider this to be the most important day on the Wheel, a time when the veil between the spirit world and the mundane world is at its thinnest. Our ancestors and loved ones on the Other Side are said to be more easily able to visit with us and make their presence known at this time. Samhain is arguably the most visible Sabbat in the mainstream world, thanks to the parallel holiday of Halloween. Many of the Halloween traditions celebrated in contemporary cultures today have grown out of customs dating back to pagan times. As far back as ancient Greece, people were leaving offerings of food to their ancestors, which is echoed in the modern tradition of trick-or-treating. The practice of leaving root vegetables, hollowed out with lighted candles inside, to guide spirits visiting on Earth ultimately led to today’s jack-o-lanterns. Witches, of course, have always been part of mainstream Halloween lore. And although they have almost always been presented as “evil” caricatures with no resemblance to the real thing, there’s still a lingering association between the spirit of Halloween and the real power of a Witch .--------------------------------------------------------------------------- Correspondences: SYMBOL: Black cat, jack o 'lantern, bat, ghost, scarecrow, waning moon.

GODDESSES: Crone, all crone goddesses, Cerridwen, Hecate, Hel, Oya, the Morrigan, Lilith, Kali, Ishtar, Arianrhod, Rhiannon, Tlazoteotl, Nephthys, Persephone, Beansidhe (Banshee), Inanna, Baba Yaga, Isis, Pomona and Cailleach Beara (Brigid's crone aspect), who is reborn this night.

GODS: Osiris, the Horned God, Herne the Hunter, Cernunnos, Anubis, Odin, Bran, death gods, dying and rising gods. INCENSE: Copal, sandalwood, mastic resin, benzoin, sweetgrass, wormwood: to get the sight, to see the spirits of the returning dead. CANDLES: New candles for the new year: black, orange, autumn colors, or black candles for the Lord and the old year, white candles for the Lady and the new year. TOOLS: Besom, to sweep out the old year and any negativity it had. Cauldron, for transformation. Divination tools: Tarot cards, scrying bowl, rune stones, pendulum, mirror, etc. PLANT: Pumpkin, apple, grain, pomegranate, mugwort, wormwood, Dittany of Crete, acorn, oak leaf, gourds, root vegetables, rosemary (for remembrance). STONE: Obsidian, carnelian, onyx, smoky quartz, jet, bloodstone. ANIMAL: Bat, black cat, owl. ALTAR DECORATIONS: Autumn leaves, fall flowers, pomegranates, apples, pumpkins, ears of corn, sprays of grain, corn dollies, gourds, nuts, seeds, acorns, chestnuts and images of ancestors are all appropriate. Use whatever is in season where you live, whatever feels right and looks good to you. FOOD: Gingerbread, freshly roasted nuts, nut breads, anything made with apples or pumpkin, meat (especially bacon), doughnuts, popcorn, cakes with lucky tokens in them, and red foods because the ancients held them sacred to the dead. DRINK: Mead, apple cider, mulled cider, mulled wine, fruit juices, pomegranate juice/tea .-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Magical Workings: Samhain is one of the most potent nights of the year for magic. As a cross-quarter day it is a supernatural time, a time outside of time, the night that is not a night, a powerful time of flux and change. This is a good night for: candle magic - astral projection - past life work - dark moon mysteries - mirror spells (reflection) - casting protection - inner work - propitiation - clearing obstacles - uncrossing - inspiration - workings of transition or culmination - manifesting transformation - creative visualization. Divination: Samhain is a power night for divination: read the tarot cards; use the Wheel of the Year spread to forecast the year ahead - cast runes or the I Ching - scry in crystal balls, dark mirrors, bowls of black ink or pools of water - swing a pendulum, asking yes or no questions - eat an apple in front of a mirror at midnight, by candlelight, to scry your future mate. Meditation: This is a good night for deep reflection and inner work. Meditation themes include: changes, transition, endings and beginnings, passage, return, mortality and reincarnation, chaos leading to reorder. Spirit work: (by invitation, not summons) This is the night when the veil is thinnest, the gates between the worlds are open. Souls of the dead are said to visit their homes at midnight. Possible workings include: a dumb supper for the beloved dead - ouija - séances - trance possession - automatic writing - bury apples as food for hungry spirits - leave spirit plates of food outside your home - set a place for a missed love one at the banquet or dinner table. New Year workings: Release the old: bad habits and toxic relationships, illness, failure and poverty; everything you do not want to carry into the new year - sweep negativity and out of your home - end quarrels - settle debts, make amends or restitution if needed - spells for prosperity and security for your family. Faery Magick: This is a great night for visiting the faery realm but you must return by dawn or remain forever enchanted, unable to return. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- simple no bake apple oatmeal cookies https://onceamonthmeals.com/recipes/no-bake-apple-oatmeal-cookies/ not so simple soul cake recipes https://www.learnreligions.com/make-a-soul-cake-for-samhain-2562655Once ------------------------------------------------------------ Candle Ceremony for The Ancestors This is a wonderfully simple ritual which can be shared with both friends and family, or worked alone. You can include children in it - it begins in darkness and ends full of light. It's a great balance to trick or treating! You will need a supply of small candles, either black or white, or a supply of night lights. You need a heat proof container or tray of sand or earth to put them in. Place one in the centre of the container from which all the others will be lit. Switch off all the lights and sit gently in the darkness. Allow the darkness to enfold you. Ask for the presence of your ancestors to come to you. When you are ready, light the central candle saying "We welcome our departed loved ones into this home and honour your presence amongst us". Allow each person in the circle to spontaneously remember someone who has passed to the Summerlands and remember something about them and light a candle for each person from the central candle: 'I remember Great Aunt Sheila and her generosity of heart....'. Allow this to continue for as long as it takes to complete the re-membering. You will end with a tray full of radiant candles. When all is complete, give thanks, and allow the candles to burn to completion ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Guide the Spirits (quick and easy spellwork to honor the dead) Place a white candle in the window to guide the dead to the Spirit World. Light the candle and speak these words, “O little flame that burns so bright, be a beacon on this night. Light the path for all the dead, that they may see now what’s ahead. And lead them to the Summerland and shine until Pan takes their hands. And with Your light, please bring them peace, that they may rest and sleep with ease . ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- as Samhain marks the witches new year you can write down a bad habit or something you dont wish to carry with you onto the new year onto a piece of paper and in a fire proof bowl or somewhere safe place a lit candle inside (or even use a fire pit/bonfire/fireplace) and drop the paper in the flame and watch it burn away. if there are any ashes of it left over wait for them to cool and bury them outside ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If anyone plans on taking a walk late at night or a cemetery walk at night please be careful! if you can bring someone with you or bring some form of protection pepper spray, pocket knife, even your keys. be respectful to the spirits, be safe with what spirits you try and contact. if you aren’t sure if a passed family member would want to be involved if your spells/rituals you can always ask them/ send them an invitation so that way the choice is at least open to them. i hope you all have a wonderful and safe samhain/halloween <3

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