#wh Oberon

[eye-burning]

WE JOPPING!!!!

Yes! I'm still on this! To be fair I did warn it would drag on.

Cyan Includes: Nox, Felix, Slightly Off Taffy, Cerim, Florin, Brunhild, Eress, Oberon, Saella, Zett and, Chocolate Cake

[ardenssolis]

He puts one of them on Ozy's pointer finger and oberon does the same but on his own fingers.

     ❝…❞ What was this? He stared at his hand…and then stared at Oberon's before slowly lifting his gaze to make eye contact with the so-called Fae King. He didn't say anything. Nothing at all. His gaze said more than enough.

[mako-neexu]

THIS IS GOING TO FEED ME FOR MY ENTIRE LIFETIME!!!!!!

[monterraverde]

Maybe it's the presence of Oberon, maybe it's her constant close proximity to Sabrina, but upon watching the parade she finds herself suddenly approached by a lone Girafarig, one that gently headbutts her core with a delighted bleat.

"Wh-? Ack! Hey, hey relax, I see you." She laughs, gently petting its snout as it tried to nuzzle her face. She scoffs, though, wondering why this giraffe of all creatures sought her out of this crowd.

As if by fate, the Girafarig winds up knocking an empty friend ball from her hip with its psychic power, and putting itself inside, absolutely insistent on going home with her. "I-... Ugh, absolutely incorrigible... Well, guess we're partners now, little girl."

---

Species: Girafarig (Female) Level: 5 Name: Mara Nature: Adamant Ability: Inner Focus Highly curious

[game-weaver]

Kisara is now sort of aimlessly wandering in dreams, White dragon following close. She's not quite sure where she's is or what's going on only that for the moment at least she's escaped from her own...

So upon seeing a familiar face she runs up hugging him tight.

[magic!anon gave her dream wandering powers, @lil-kissy ]

After getting his memories back, Yugi had been taking it easy with his dreamwalking. Carefully keeping his own dreamscape contained while he rested, the dreamscape remaining a peaceful clearing in a forest with soft sunlight streaming down, laying on a soft bed in the grass. But it was like an unmistakable ripple to him. Like a pebble thrown into a still pond.

Someone was here.

Sitting up, he looked around. It wasn't his father, he would have known if it was Oberon. Getting up, he went to investigate only to look completely and utterly startled when Kisara ran up to him. "Wh-Kisara?! How...How are you here?!" He dropped to his knees and looked around, did someone else with the ability bring her here?

[thatscarletflycatcher]

I mean, the answer is of course all of the above XD

But, theory time about the casting, there might be still some way in which it can make a lick of sense? I don't know why I'm doing this, because I think Fennell's fame explosion is Greek punishment for my complaining so much about Greta Gerwig, ANYWAYS.

I was thinking that, AFAIK, all we know about this adaptation so far is... a drawing? and this casting? so correct me if I'm wrong, but nothing says it IS a late 18th century early 19th century set WH. I have said before that unlike Jane Eyre, which is as Victorian as it comes, WH does have a temporal flexibility as long as the elements of place are kept (it HAS to be rural. One of the main reasons why the MTV Wuthering Heights was... what it was).

I was thinking that both Margot and Ellordi are Australian, so what if it was Wuthering Heights sometime in the not so distant past in the Australian outback? That would definitely help smoothing over stuff like the actors' ages (though, yes Margot being 34... Juliette Binoche was 28, Merle Oberon 27, Charlotte Riley was 28 and Orla Brady... 37. Yes, different ages, but still, none of them is passing for 16), or Margot being blonde and blue eyed (can you imagine reverse F4 Jessica Alba? XD)... give the whole thing a Where the Crawdads Sing sort of vibe?

IDK. It sounds super far-fetched, but then this casting is so far fetched in its "13 year old girl makes first fancasting with her faves no matter what" nature, that I think wild speculation is fitting XD

This has to be the most egregious miscasting of the century

[eye-cri]

Ok but they had no right to make Oberon as fine as he is what

[kob131]

Morgan Le Fay (Alter Ego) My Room Lines

Morgause

“Master~ Can we stay here please? A moment’s rest may bring you far after all!”

“Ah, you really like to work don’t you? No no, I’m not accusing you of anything. I know your drive after all...”

“No matter what, it doesn’t seem I’ll get use to fighting. I wonder if either of those two would-ah. nevermind!”

Bond 1 “...Oh, sorry Master! I was spacing out there for a moment. I’m...not really use to being...heh, nevermind me!”

Bond 2 “Your magecraft seems a little shaky lately. Are you sure you’re feeling well? You eating well? Maybe a nice plate of meat and potatoes will make you feel better? ...Wh-what do you mean that’s too heavy?!”

Bond 3 “How strange.  I’m still here. Usually I can’t remember where I’ve been or how I got where I am because...because...

...Well anyway, I can’t say it’s bad after all. I’d certainly be worried if one moment I was here with you and the next you left my sight. That-that can get rather scary...”

Bond 4 “... ... ... I can still feel them inside me, you know? ‘The Lady of The Lake’ and ‘The Fairy Witch’. My...other selves.

... Why? Why? WHY? Why do they have to exist? Why are they inside me? It’s not fair! I lost so much to them! So much of my life- Take, STOLEN from me by them! And even worst, they took my home away! I’m Morgause Pendragon, the daughter of Uther Pendragon! I am human! Not a fae! Not a witch! I. Am. HUMAN, ME! 

So why can’t they just leave me alone?!”

Bond 5 “... I won’t be here for long. Even if this body were to see the end of your journey, I-I might not be the one in it. I was the first to fade away after all. It’s simply my fate...to be used and discarded by everything I love. 

...Even so, I won’t run. As weak as I maybe in comparison to them...I won’t surrender a second of my time with you. With anyone. I’m here now. I am me.”

To Gawain “My son...my darling son. P-please don’t turn away! Please. I-I lost so much time with you. I can’t-I have to. Please, come embrace your mother. Before I’m gone.”

To Gareth “Gareth...my little pup. Look at you, you’ve grown up so much. I bet you had the lords at your beck and call. ... I wish I could have been there for you.”

To Agravain “Oh Agravain. It hurts to see you look at me so. And yet, it’s all my fault. If only I were stronger, if only I could overcome them. My little knight...I’m sorry.”

To Arturia “Arthur-no, Arturia isn’t it? To think I felt so bitter about what our father wanted...when there was so much to lose to that envy. I...I shall take my leave.”

To Mordred “Master, that knight over there?? That...wouldn’t happen to be Sir Mordred correct? ... Yes I assumed so, given her glares at me. Le Fay’s child with my own brother...There’s nothing I can do to help her, is there?”

To Morgan (Lostbelt) “You there, the witch. You have quite the nerve to show your face here. You, who abandoned her humanity for the sake of a kingdom. Your kingdom was a shame and deserved it’s fate. Glare at me all you wish, without the three of us you would be nothing.”

Likes “What do I like? Well, I always liked cooking. It was always such a treat to see my children’s faces light up when I cooked with all my heart!”

Dislikes “...Lake fae and evil witches.”

Holy Grail “Even if it is a heresy, I would like to wish upon it. Then maybe, I can finally be free.”

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Vivian

“Master, come. We have much to do still. ...I know you must be tired, I understand your weariness. But still, we must persist.”

“There’s no need to worry about me. An adventure like this-it is a simple matter. Compared to guiding those troublesome fae...”

“Quiet, quiet, quiet. ...Sorry Master, I was...having some difficulties with...the others. Le Fay especially...”

Bond 1 “So, you have stayed by my side? How strange, most humans simply leave the lakeside after so long.”

Bond 2 “Your heart is weary. There is no point in lying. I know that feeling well myself. Perhaps I have been pushing you too hard. Come, rest. All need reprieve after all.”

Bond 3 “It seems my time has not come yet. Good. I cannot-I will not fade like before. I refuse to let things end like before.”

Bond 4 “It is so tiring. To have their thoughts, their minds inside me. Always, always a reminder. That I am more than the fae ‘Vivian’. The human princess and the raging witch-

...No. No. NO! I am here now! I will be the one to fight! I will be the one to guard the Human Order! I will be the one protect the Age of Man that Father wished for! Not the human Morgause! Not the witch Le Fay! 

I am Me, Vivian, The Lady of the Lake!”

Bond 5 “Even though I am the fae Vivian, an existence incompatible with mankind. It was always the humans I loved most of all. The fae, so fickle and cruel. I guided and guarded them out of duty alone.

Why you may ask? Because it was mankind that my father Uther loved. He protected them to his last breath. And so shall I. Even if I may never see the Age of Man, I will protect and guide it. Especially you, my Master. I shall ensure your safety to death and beyond.”

To Lancelot (Berserker) “Master! Th-that figure cloaked in black! I-it can’t be! My son! This is what became of you? ... Who did this?”

To Lancelot (Saber) “I knew it. Of course my son would be here. There was no chance he wouldn’t answer the call to protect mankind. He grew into a splendid knight after all.”

To Mash “This feeling... You there, young lady with the shield. Come forward, let me take a good look. ...It really is, isn’t it? Don’t be scared young lady. I shall never hurt you. Now, come with me. I have much to discuss with you.”

To Fae Servants “*Sigh* It seems there are some troublemakers in this place isn’t there? Worry not Master, I know how to keep them on a tight leash.”

To Morgan (Lostbelt) “Ruler of the fae, huh? How pathetic. To have resorted to such evil. I do not care what your excuses are. I lead and guarded the fae myself. I sacrificed my place in the world. I expect no less of you.”

To Arturia (Archer) “How cute, thinking that little spruit is alike to my magic. Here, let me show you what a true Excalibur Vivian can accomplish.”

Likes “Besides mankind? ...I do enjoy watching the forest creatures prance about. The little bugs especially.”

Dislike “Lazy princesses and malevolent witches. That is all I’ll say.”

Holy Grail “It is a false wish granting device isn’t it? Still, if supplied with enough mana, it might just be enough to grant my wish To gain my freedom.”

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

Morgan Le Fay

“Careful now, Master. One wrong step and things will certainly go wrong. I know how much fun it is to lose yourself in the throes of battle. Hehehe...But your goal must come first.”

“That fire...that determination. Very well, I’ll join you in the fray. After all, I haven’t nearly indulged enough myself.”

“Your magecraft is rather lackluster isn’t it? Hm, whatever you call your ‘talents’, that doesn’t matter. Practice, practice, practice. Experience breeds excellence. I didn’t match Merlin with pure talent after all.”

Bond 1 “I must say, staying this way at will without being subject to the fickle whims fate...it’s rather nice. Thanks Master.”

Bond 2 “Fate is cruel. I know your pain better than most. Forced into the impossible by the will of others. But don’t let your heart waver. Through will and guile, you will gain your freedom.”

Bond 3 “Don’t hesitate to give me tasks. I find myself with more time than i know what to do with. Preferably with you around...”

Bond 4 “I’m sure you’ve heard about this before but...My other selves are still here. Deep inside, I can still here them. Their woes, their uncertainty, their hatred. All mine...

...Bwahaha! What a joke! As if I would let them trend upon me. It was my loathing that struck fear into Camelot. It was my malice that twisted the Green Knight. It was my love for Britian that allowed me to stomach sharing a bed with that liar. I am no feeble princess or passive fae. I am me, Morgan, the witch that loved Britian!”

Bond 5 “So here we stand still. I’m sure you caught on but I hate the Age of Man. Tearing away all the work I put out, fading everything I’ve done into legend. Acting as though I was never here. For it’s sins, I will always spur it.

So why am I here? Because I would rather have an Age of Man with Britian than not. Be it the destruction of history or man, I will not stand for it. I will rage and hate and burn until all is done. So long as we stand on the same ground, I will be here. I can’t trust the other two to get the job done after all.”

To Mordred “Hm, that defect of a homonculus is here? Master, you are best off sending it away. It’s incapable of following orders or performing tasks sufficiently. I would love to fix it but that’s beyond my reach.”

To Arturia (Alter) “Tch, that liar dares to attach my name to something so weak. She preaches that the strong rule over the weak, shall I teach her who is truly strong then? Gwahaha!”

To Merlin “Ah, Teacher is here too. How unusual, that fickle asshole couldn’t be asked to cut a blade of grass, let alone save humanity. He’s not even really here is he?”

To Fairy Knight Tristan “Master, this annoying brat won’t leave me alone. Acting all familiar and friendly with me... Maybe I’ll teach her what it means to truly be sadistic. Perhaps by rending her limbs asunder...”

To Arturia “So the King of Liars has come as well. Maybe a trip into Hell will teach her the place where she belongs...but that will have to wait, won’t it? She still has her uses after all...”

To Oberon-Vortigern “That mana. Another embodiment of Britian is here?! It feels like that failure Vortigern...yet...it’s so different. I must dissect him, to know!”

To Morgan (Lostbelt) “Ah yes, that other me. Heh, what a fool she turned out to be, no? She rages against man, fae and knights, wasting all her efforts in the process. Focus, my dear. Focus is the key to victory. I did not waste my time with man or fae, I put my all into the slaying of Arturia. And which of us succeeded, hm?”

Likes “A rough night with a man below me, of course.”

Dislikes “My other selves. Unlike them, I will not hide the truth.”

Holy Grail “Hm, I have no need for such a thing. Unlike them, I will not cling to a false hope. It will be my hand that cuts them out like the parasites they are.”

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

Bond 10 CE: I Am...?

One minute *I’m* home with my children One minute ^I’m^ guarding those troublesome fae One minute -I’m- cackling as I tear into his flesh

The next I’m not.

It is my duty to *lead*/^guard^/-destroy- my kin No, That is *my*/^my^/-my- duty. No, it’s *mine*/^mine^/-mine-!

...Is it?

No, I am a *princess*/^guardian^/-witch-! That is not what *I*/^I^/-I- am! Stop it! This is who *I*/^I^/-I- am!

I am *me*/^me^/-me-! I am *Me*/^Me^/-Me-! I AM *ME*/^ME^/-ME-!

I am... I...am... I...

....Who am I?

[writtenjewels]

Fire Eater part 5

Part One , Part Two , Part Three , Part Four

Maxwell never hated the concept of time more in his life. But then, he never had much of a reason to want a moment to stand still before.

He hadn't noticed Jacob the first time the man sat in the crowd. Just another face like all the others who came to the circus. But as he did his circle on the second night, he caught that same face again. And again on the third night. When the fourth night rolled around Maxwell was looking for that face, eager to see the young man.

They clicked so instantly it was a surprise. And when he revealed his face, Jacob looked like he was actually interested in what he saw.

Then came the night they danced together. Maxwell thought for a moment... well, it didn't matter, as Jacob backed off.

Which led to this moment: Jacob's lips against his. At last. Though really he only met the man days ago, it felt like he'd been waiting for this moment for so long. Maxwell didn't dare make any sudden moves or press for more than what Jacob was giving him. Jacob released his lips, expelling a sigh.

“I like you being forward,” Maxwell grinned.

“Shut up,” Jacob huffed. At first Maxwell thought he offended the man somehow, but then felt Jacob clinging to his shirt. “Shut up and kiss me, Oberon.”

And so he did, shaping his lips hungrily against Jacob's. His arms slid around Jacob's body to hold him close. He felt Jacob's arms around his shoulders, clinging almost desperately. It was overwhelming the passion and eagerness Jacob threw into the embrace.

“Maxwell.” He growled the name against Jacob's mouth.

“Wh-what?”

“My name. Oberon is just a stage name. Call me Maxwell.”

“Maxwell,” Jacob repeated. Oh, he loved how that sounded. Jacob pressed a bit closer, body flush against Maxwell's.

Little by little Maxwell had pushed this thing between them. He dared to push again. “Stay, Jacob. Stay here with me tonight.”

Jacob broke the kiss and took a step back. His eyes were wide, his face flushed. “You probably say that to everyone.” It was not a completely unfair accusation. Maxwell had certainly had his dalliances over the years, other men he spent a night with.

But that's all it was: one single night. And he'd already given Jacob more than that. “I told you, Jacob,” Maxwell explained, “that you are the first who made me want to stay. Something about you has captivated me.” He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to that mouth. “Please stay with me tonight, Jacob.”

He could see the uncertainty in the younger man's eyes, but also the desire. Maxwell waited to see which of them would win.

“Yes,” Jacob agreed, his kiss searing. “Yes, Maxwell.”

[marianhalcombes]

hello, I adore your blog and art! I was wondering whether you had any recs for things to scratch that wuthering heights itch (for those who devoured WH) — retellings, separate standalone fiction, commentary or academia even?

Hello and thank you! Absolutely. I’ll asterisk my faves. Here’s your one-stop shop for all things Wuthering Heights:

Brontë Books: Literature, Graphic Novels, and Poetry

The Lost Child by Caryl Phillps (2015)

*Glass Town: The Imaginary World of the Brontës by Isabel Greenberg (2020)

The Glass Town Game by Catherynne M. Valente (2017)

*“The Glass Essay” by Anne Carson (1995)

Charlotte Brontë Before Jane Eyre by Glynnis Fawkes (2019)

*The Complete Poetry of Emily Jane Brontë (Columbia, 1995)

Film and TV Adaptations: There’s a lot! Here’s a few.

*Wuthering Heights (2011), dir. Andrea Arnold feat. Kaya Scodelario and James Howard

Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights (1992), dir. Peter Kominsky feat. Juliette Binoche and Ralph Fiennes

Wuthering Heights (1939), dir. William Wyler feat. Merle Oberon and Laurence Olivier

Wuthering Heights (1970), dir. Robert Fuest feat. Anna Calder-Marshall and Timothy Dalton

Wuthering Heights BBC series (2009), dir. Coky Giedroyc feat. Charlotte Riley and Tom Hardy

*Not an adaptation but highly recommended: To Walk Invisible two-part film about the Brontë siblings (2016), dir. Sally Wainwright (director of Gentleman Jack!) 

Academia You Can Actually Digest: It Exists! 

*The Brontë Cabinet: Three Lives in Nine Objects by Deborah Lutz (2015)

“The real Emily Brontë was red in tooth and claw, forget the on-screen romance” by Hila Shachar (2018)

“Was Emily Brontë’s Heathcliff Black?” by Corinne Fowler (2017)

“The Radical Politics of Wuthering Heights” by yours truly (2020)

There is tons of scholarship on WH from Marxist theory to gender studies to postcolonialism so if you want to dive deeper into a topic let me know and I’ll point you in a good direction! 

Illustrations of Wuthering Heights: All-Ladies Edition

Clare Leighton (1898–1989)

Edna Clarke Hall (1879–1979)

Some Other Things: Why Not?

Take some time to peruse the Brontë Society website.

Look into some locations around Haworth: Top Withens (sometimes spelled Withins), Brontë Falls, the Brontë Bridge, Haworth Village, the Parsonage Museum which was their home, etc. It’s cool to see the paths they regularly hiked. Top Withens is said to be an inspiration for the eponymous farmhouse in WH (tho more likely the view than anything). 

Some very funny Kate Beaton comics about Wuthering Heights

Ofc, the Kate Bush song but also Noel Fielding dressed like her and dancing to the song

Some photos I took of my hike in Brontë Country

If there’s anything else Wuthering Heights you’re interested in, lmk! :)

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

if y’all dont stop tying up the wh and bts options in the oberon poll we’re gonna have ourselves a problem LMAO 

[asras-eyelashes]

Book 0: The Fool

Full AO3 Fic // Previous || Next  

Chapter 2: Heart of the Cards

Not much time had passed since you first met Asra, but every chance you got, you find yourself wandering over to his rug where he read fortunes and sold masks he and his friend, Muriel, made. Your family hadn’t really studied divination, so it’s always fascinating to watch. Asra in turn has never tried potions; he knew a little about charms, but his knowledge was very basic.

“Hey,” Asra chirps, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. “Do you want me to teach you?”

“Teach me?”

“Yeah, tarot. It’s not that hard, especially for you - your magic is strong.”

Flustered with the direct compliment, your words tumble out of your mouth. “Wh-What do you mean? My mag-magic isn’t that great!”

“What are you talking about, yeah it is. I can feel it in your aura.” Faust even bobs her head, as if to agree. Oberon, who had since warmed up a bit to Faust after realizing she wasn’t going to eat him, also looks up encouragingly from his seat next to the snake.

Feeling a bit cornered, your tongue seems to trip on your words. “M-my aunt says other…wise…”

Asra’s lips purses into an irritated pout. “Your aunt isn’t that great, all she does is yell and scream.”

“That-that isn’t totally true…she teaches me magic…sometimes…” There is magic in making potions, and learning how to cool yourself in the humid Vesuvian summers…

“Well, you’re gonna learn either way. It’s fun!” Not waiting for a response, the young magician grabs his handmade tarot deck. Placing the deck in my hands, he simply says, “Shuffle ‘em.”

You look down at the deck he had given you. It radiates low levels of magic, which is not unpleasant, but certainly foreign. In the back of your mind, you hear a breath of a whisper. Meeting Asra’s eyes, he gives you a confident nod. Reciprocating, you shuffle then cut the deck.

Once you pick a pile, Asra instructs you to lay out the cards in a circular pattern. Once that’s done, he continues his gentle instructions.

“Close your eyes, and try to reach out to the card that calls to you.”

You do as he says, closing your eyes and concentrating your magic. It wasn’t unlike using magic to brew potions, but you are startled when the whisper returns. From shock, you open your eyes wide.

“I heard a voice,” you explain, glancing around at you to make sure no one was doing any funny business.

“What did it say?” Asra seems unworried…

But thinking back on it, you aren't sure what the voice said. You knew it was a voice, someone uttered words, but…had it been a foreign language? No, maybe it wasn’t even words…

“I…I don’t know.”

Still unperturbed, Asra brings your attention back to the cards again. “Maybe the voice is trying to help you?”

Maybe…

You close your eyes once again and reach out. Following where your magic leads you, your hand naturally floats to a card…

“Wheel of Fortune, reversed,” you hear Asra read the card you selected.

Opening your eyes, you stare at the image on the card, staring at the details of the wheel.

Most people when drawing this card focus on the word “Fortune”, or at least the ones who stop by Asra’s spot. But they seem to miss the point that the card symbolizes a force that is out of their hands. If upright, it’s a sign to enjoy good moments while you have them. But if reversed…

“Looks like luck isn’t on your side, huh?” Asra’s airy voice brings you back to your senses.

Out of all the cards you’ve seen people draw, the Wheel of Fortune card puzzles you the most. Whether upright or reversed, it seems like it basically says you can do nothing about external circumstances in your life.

You let out a huff, disgruntled. Asra’s laughter chimes in, surprising you.

“What’s so funny?” You put your hands on your hips, continuing to frown.

“You just seem so concerned.”

“Well, I dunno, the Wheel of Fortune card confuses me. If I can’t control anything, then what am I supposed to do about it?”

“It means that in life, there are cycles of good and bad,” Asra explains gently. “So just because you’ve been unlucky for a while doesn’t mean it’ll always be like that. Things will look up.” He flashes a kind smile.

Somewhat satisfied, you let his words simmer in your brain. While you hate that your parents are always abandoning you, it gives you the freedom to practice magic. You aren’t sure if you would have gotten so much experience if they aren’t always away. On the other hand, that meant spending the majority of your life with your “aunt”, who loved to yell at you when she could. But that did also mean meeting Asra…

“Maybe you’re right…” you mumble under your breath.

“OI! Yer time’s up!” The loud voice disrupts your thoughts. With a sigh, you get up, reaching out for Oberon, who swiftly climbs up to your shoulder.

When your aunt had discovered that you made friends with the street fortune teller, she was not pleased at all. “You shouldn’t be associating with scum on the street,” she had said, which hurt you. Asra is definitely not scum. He is most certainly a magician, or at least one in training. “You better not be slacking off in the back because of him,” she had threatened. “And yer lunch breaks are still the same! Just because you found a chummy face to talk to means nothing.”

You had silently nodded to her words, knowing better than to raise your voice against her. Unfortunately that hadn’t done anything to calm her down, but didn’t anger her further at least. But nowadays, it seemed like your aunt’s fuse was a bit shorter…

“I better get going,” you say apologetically, already feeling yourself withdraw into your meek persona.

It's Asra’s turn to frown. “Alright…”

You cast one glance back, as if to say sorry, before rushing back to the shop.

Opening the door, the mildew and must of the shop assaults your nose. You’d think after working here so often, you’d get used to it…

“Were you out with that fortune scammer again?” your aunt badgers, hands on her hip. Behind her, a fire heats a cauldron, its contents lazily filling the room with a dim green light.

“He’s not a scammer…” you mutter, wishing that had come out a bit more confidently.

“Pah, all divination is a scam. Ya just hurl some cards around and what? Remember what each card means and make some vague statements about it.” You’ve had this argument with your aunt several times, but every time she holds her opinions firm.

“But it is magic…” you counter weakly, berating yourself that you sounded so submissive.

“I’ll tell ya what’s magic - the fact that you can get anything done with that little voice of yers. Now get back to preppin’!”

Accepting another loss, your head droop as you walked over to the cabinet. Oberon gives you a sympathetic nuzzle. Hopefully this wouldn’t ruin the brew you’re about to make.

[exponentialdisasters]

[Quest One: The Challenge of Newcomers]

[WORD COUNT: 5,935]

She jolted awake. Something was wrong. She knew that without even taking a first breath. She had- fallen asleep on her bed, correct?

Then why was she jolting and whirling in time with the rumble of an engine?

Paz rubbed her eyes, noticing after the action that her- her hands... They were so much... Pudgier, if that made any sense. Paz nearly jumped back. Her back was up against something... Leather. She finally took a moment to examine her surroundings.

The blazing-hot brown leather was attached to a seat... At the very back of a bus. A few other people were on the bus- mostly folks with big bags of luggage that Paz could probably carry if she used both hands. A sun hung outside, flickering in and out of the bus between thick pine trees.

“..... Hmmnnn?-!” A boy was sitting beside her. He looked... Maybe twelve, with a lean build that evidenced much running and physical dexterity. “Wh- but I-?? What???” Paz glanced to him. He felt.... Familiar.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was even, trying to hide her own surprise and terror. “Last I knew, I was.. Well, I fell asleep in my bed.” Paz breathed in gently, trying to focus on the air moving in and out of her body. The bus was blazingly hot.

“I-... That’s what happened to me.” Paz’s eyes shot to the boy. He was semi-tall for his age, with a slightly buzzy set of short brown hair. His gray eyes burned with... Something... Too similar. Too close.

“.... But if one of us is dreaming, we should be lucid dreaming, which means we should have control over the environment... And last I checked, my dreams never involved hopping into another... Person.” Paz gestured to her hands. She could not see herself, but she had a guess. The boy stared, eyes locked into the midway with imagination churning. Paz gave pause.

“..... It isn’t me. Are you dreaming?” Paz exhaled, before whacking her arm- quite suddenly and harshly- against the seat side in front of the two. The pain that burst like a firecracker from the injury was message enough. She hadn’t woken up cradling her arm, in her bed.

“No.” The boy was eerily calm about this- perhaps he was a construct, and Paz was still sleeping... It would be far-fetched, but she had suffered some decently real dreams before. “..... I’m Oberon.” He held out his hand, although his eyes betrayed his real emotion. Paz would recognize- that-... Oh.... No...

“.... I- Oberon?- Smith?” The boy blinked, shifting back in his bus seat.- It was the very back seat, so it spanned the length of the bus’ width.

“.... Yes? How did you kno….” He stopped, mouth still open in a silent ‘o’. Paz held out one hand, letting her pointer and pinky go up while her thumb extended out. Oberon matched the sign. “..... P-... Paz?”

“..... But you’re a-?!” The two stopped, each staring at the other. They had both spoken at once. There was no way this child was Oberon. No. Way.- He was at least two feet shorter than her sibling!... But everything else was scarily alike. Burning gray eyes, dirty brown hair, peach skin that was nearly a light level of unhealthy pale, even the bags from college life... It was all there.

The boy wore a red zip-up hoodie, currently unzipped to allow for better air. An orange shirt was tearing its color into Paz’s retinas, leading down to a set of plaid shorts. The colors were caught between red and orange, giving them the sense of fire. He also had on a pair of red tennis shoes, covering up (almost entirely) a pair of black socks. A necklace hung from his neck. On it rested a symbol- infinity divided by zero.

“.... I....” The boy- Oberon?- reached out a hand, letting his smaller and more fatty digits run against her arm. Paz blinked, pushing the offending thing off.

“...… Are- are you really Oberon?”

“Well I can’t exactly prove it to you. If you’re not Paz, then you won’t know our stuff, but if I’m not Oberon, I won’t know our history.” Paz exhaled for a moment. Think of something... Something only Oberon would know. Something that she, as Paz, would be the only living soul to ever know.

“..... Pi. List it out, as far as you can.”

“.... 3.1415926535897...…. 9...” Paz felt a small syringe of relief push into her veins. Her heart was still attempting suicide, beating so fast in panic that it could be mistaken for a car engine.

“You are- Oberon?” Paz shuffled closer. Oberon didn’t move away. The two siblings stared at each other in silence.

“Last stop, Gravity Falls!”

That yell broke the two from their shocked silence. They somehow... Sensed... Like a pull, or a tug... That they needed to be leaving the bus. Oberon stooped down under the seat, tugging out a small dark green suitcase. Paz glanced underneath where she was sat, noticing a similar suitcase. The only difference between the two was that one was covered in pictures of eyes and artist quotes, while the other had forms of puzzles and math equations.

“... My luggage?..” Paz murmured. She drifted from her seat, nearly floating down the aisle in a realm of confusion far removed from the moment. Her brother was easily behind her, having less trouble carrying his suitcase than she was. Paz grunted as she pulled the accursed item to the front. She dragged it down the steps, letting the green object hit nearly every step on the way off. “... Thank you, sir.”

Paz waved to the bus driver. The man blinked, his eyes unfocused and twitchy. Oberon hopped off. The doors squealed closed. A loud rumble filled the air as the bus began moving once more, engine churning and burning through diesel like there was no tomorrow. Paz could see her reflection in the windows.

She... Looked like Oberon. Not- not twenty-three year old him, but.. The boy next to her. She had similar dirty brown hair, although hers was a little more straightened than his. Her skin was just as pale, eyes an ember of flaming gray. Unlike him, she wore a gray collared shirt and navy pants, with black shoes that had some white marking on them. Looking down, she noticed what it was. The square root of negative one.

Paz sneezed. She covered her nose, but it was already too late. Oberon sneezed a few seconds after her. The two- now twins- spent a few seconds sneezing and coughing, expelling the offending dust from their lungs. After waving off the equivalent of a wall, Paz’s eyes finally cut through enough of the mist.

“Mystery Shack”. She knew that sign. She knew it... But didn’t know it. The sign was so painfully familiar, and she was sure she should have recognized it...

“... ‘Mystery Shack’?” Paz’s own voice- she could finally figure out what was wrong with it. It was higher. More feminine. Far more than she had heard in many a year.

“..... It... I guess we should go there.” Oberon exhaled. “Not like we know what else to do. Maybe they have a phone or something, and we can- no... The parents... Won’t recognize us like this.” The idea was shot down before he could even speak of it. Paz took less than a moment to pick up on what it had been.

“I guess we just go to the Mystery Shack for now, and we’ll figure it out from there.” Paz’s words were more confident than she felt. She knew her brother could see right through her tough-girl façade- he had been able to for a long time. Still. She couldn’t lose face.

“Can you say ‘tourist trap’?” Oberon’s hopeful humor managed a short laugh from Paz. Focus on that. Not on this situation. Not now.

“Nope, physically incapable.” She began pulling the suitcase over the dirt road.

“Suuuuuuureeeee….”

{<>}

“So you’re the great niece and great nephew, huh?” Paz... Was confused. She had- just knocked- on the door. “Well, I’m your great uncle Stan!” She knew him. Paz could barely remember anyone outside of her immediate family- so perhaps he was family? It was possible, since looking at him stirred up long-awaited emotions from her gut. Mistrust, but care. Concern, but joy. Annoyance was also buried deep in the edges.

“... I- I guess?” Paz cast an eye to her brother. Oberon shrugged his shoulders. The man before them was easily in his forties, if not his fifties or sixties. He had a massive set of stubble that ran up to short, gray hair hidden by a red fez. A sort of golden fish symbol was inscribed into it, alongside a hanging black tail. She couldn’t recall what it was called, but it reminded her of the- ahhhh tassel! A suit- fresh pressed and clean- covered most of his body. He had on a pair of cleaned dress shoes, and was leaning on a golden cane to match. Two mischevious, twinkling brown eyes looked the twins over.

“Well, welcome to the Mystery Shack! You guys will be staying in the attic because I can’t be bothered to find a decent room.” The man waved his hand to the side with a grin. His glasses reflected the blazing sunlight. The fact that he barely bothered to do anything-... It was annoying. It made sense though. She knew it did. A part of her wanted to laugh, while another wanted to slap him and explain manners.

“..... Thanks?” Paz tried, tilting her head to the side. “Grunkle Stan?” The phrase was foreign but familiar, all at once. The man blinked. Oberon grinned just slightly, nodding his head.

“Yeah- Grunkle Stan! That’s your name.” He chuckled, smile alight in his eyes. Grunkle Stan rolled one of his shoulders.

“Whatever kids. Just make sure you don’t stop the profits, got it?” He pointed his cane at the two, eyes narrowed to beady slits. Paz and Oberon nodded in perfect sync with one another. “.... Creepy...” Grunkle Stan shuddered, moving back inside. Paz and Oberon followed him.

The ‘gift shop�� (as labeled outside of the worn-down wooden shack) was very much in the realm of tourism. If there was a joke to be made about the words ‘Mystery Shack’ or about mysteries in general, it was there. Everything was sold on racks, shelves, and even circle-racks. Shirts, snow globes, ‘crystal shards’... That looked like shards of glass... It was all there.

“Now head up to your room, I have more tourists to rip off.” Grunkle Stan shoved the two towards the ‘Employee Only’ door, beyond a register from which Paz noticed a ‘no refunds’ sign. Grunkle Stan managed to shove the two through the door with one hand after opening it with his other. Paz and Oberon tumbled over one another, nearly smacking into the floor before they managed to right themselves.

By the time they did, the door had been slammed closed by Stan. They could easily hear him on the other side, now using a perfect salesman voice.

“.... Race you up the stairs.” Paz grinned.

“I won’t race you, but-!” And she was already gone. Oberon yelped.

“HEY!” And he took off, laughing all the while. The two sped across the living-room like area, tearing over the rug and crashing their suitcases into the miniature step-stair that was at the open doorway. Paz instantly turned left, avoiding the entry to the kitchen and instead leaping onto the stairs. She pulled her suitcase up, finding her upper strength lacking just enough to make the task difficult.

“Crap crap crap!” She giggled. Oberon tore off, overtaking his sister with ease. Despite being in a twelve-year old body, the boy was still strong as ever. Oberon made it to the door, nearly crashing into it. He turned the knob, and the two siblings fell into the attic with peals of laughter. Paz was instantly on the floor, sucking in air from the short but fast outburst.

The two snickered and laughed on, taking a solid minute to let their actual laughter die down anywhere near enough to speak.

“Okay- o-okay!” Paz chuckled. “You won. But I so wasn’t racing!” The girl smirked. Oberon rolled his eyes, clapping his hands together for a moment.

“Sure, Paz, sure. Anything to save your ‘fragile’ ego.” Paz and Oberon were silent for a moment. And then.... They broke down into even bigger fits of laughter.

{<>}

“.... I really don’t wanna hang in the cabin if Grunkle Stan’s going to be busy with tourists....” Paz muttered as she placed a small stuffed animal that looked... Just like her own... On her ‘bed’. The scruffy-looking dragon stared back at Paz with an empty, soulless gaze.

“We could just explore outside.” Oberon pointed out. He folded some of his clothes, having checked his suitcase to see what all was packed. There was little variety, almost none honestly.

“Yes, but what if that makes Grunkle Stan’s profits go down?”

“We’ll just check out the woods.-” A knock at the attic door interrupted any further thought. Oberon and Paz glanced to one another, each nodding and receiving a nod in return.

“Come in!” Paz internally laughed. She could not believe they had just successfully spoken at the same time!

Grunkle Stan knocked the door to the side, his smile now a soft frown. He pulled a set of signs out from under his armpit, holding them out to Oberon. They were all faded gold in color, with red lettering that read ‘Mystery Shack This Way!’.

“Oberon, stick these up in the woods so I can get more customers.” Paz quirked an eyebrow. She remembered the woods. Well, ‘remember’ wasn’t the right word. It was as if... She knew there was something out there. Something fun, but dangerous. Exciting, like a new kind of donut or update to a game.

“Can I help him?” They were planning to explore- or at least have fun. This technically counted. Grunkle Stan huffed, before waving his cane absently.

“Yeah. Go- just- do whatever it is you kids do.” His mouth crinkled to the left, a half-smirk half-frown. His large nose was pulled up slightly into his face. Paz nodded. A jar of nails and a hammer were placed in her open hands.

“Thanks Grunkle Stan!” Paz smiled, her eyes closing for a moment to form one of those strange internet facial expressions. Grunkle Stan shuddered, turning around.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He marched out of the room. Just as the two thought the coast was clear, they were pulled from their ruminations by their Grunkle opening the door once more. “.... Also I bought too many ice popsicles, so.... There are extras downstairs.” And he vanished once more.

“I say popsicles after we work. You?” Paz glanced to Oberon. He nodded.

“That’s what I was thinking.” Paz tiptoed to the door, opening it all the way with the softest creak she could manage. She snuck her way down the stairs, hearing Grunkle Stan having fun with customers- sorry, ‘tourists’- in the main lobby. She motioned to the kitchen. Oberon seemed to get the idea. They slid across the wooden flooring, shoes thankfully not causing too many loud squeaking noises.

They made it all the way to the door in the kitchen- it was white, surrounded by dirty white counters with wooden cupboards. Paz touched the handle, turning it... And the thing let out a squeal loud enough to wake the dead. She flinched, going even slower. The noise only got louder.

Oberon was shaking his head. Paz turned the handle quick as a whip, snapping the door open and racing out with her hammer and nails. Oberon was hot on her heels, closing the door as fast as humanely possible. The two dashed for the tree line, slowing only when they vanished into the shadows underneath the pines.

Paz stopped, turning her head to look at Oberon.

“Where should... We set up... The first one?”

“I’m thinking near the trail- probably close enough to see the cabin?” Oberon’s suggestion was met with a compliant nod.

{<>}

“.... Do you think we’ll ever get back?” Oberon’s question was whispered in the silence of their walk. The two were just... Meandering. Never too far from the beaten path, but enough to feel alone.

“.... I dunno, bro.” Paz raised her hands, interlocking them behind her head and leaning just slightly back. “I’m trying not to think about it.” Truth be told, the very idea sent shivers down her spine. She found her heart picking up, breathing trying to deepen as terror began to lock around her soul. “I just hope we get back. For now, we’re stuck in children’s bodies.” She cast her brother a silent eye.

“.... That’s true, but.” Oberon’s swinging arms lessened in their swing, albeit slightly. “We have things to do- work, college, Monday night gatherings.... We can’t just abandon all that.”

“Look.” Paz stopped walking, pulling her hands apart to cross her arms before her chest. “As far as I can tell, we’re kids. We can’t exactly change that fact.- For some reason that guy at the shack- Grunkle Stan- thinks we’re his great niece and nephew, and we woke up on the bus with our previous memories intact. Whether this is a fever dream or something entirely different, I don’t know. What I do know is that I can’t afford to think about it right now. I don’t want the parents to worry- and I know you don’t either- but we have no way of consoling them, especially in the bodies of children.”

“.... We still need to find a way back.” Oberon’s persistence was faintly annoying Paz. She knew that annoyance was a wall. She could not afford this conversation much more thought.

“Bro...” Paz breathed out, lowering her head and letting one hand catch it while her eyes closed. One foot extended, pressing into the grass to keep her balance. “.... I’m just as freaked as you are, and I know we’ll have to look for a solution... But if we spend every second doing that, we’ll burn ourselves out. Can we just... Drop the topic?... It’s freaking me out... I’m sorry, but... I can’t... I can’t think about it, okay?”

Oberon frowned. Nonetheless, he dropped the subject from discussion. Paz exhaled, trying to find something else to focus on. She noticed a tree that was in the middle of a clearing. She hummed, changing her path to head towards it. Oberon easily followed suit, the two stopping only when they were just before it. Paz leaned on the tree.

“How many bets I can eat this?” She pointed to the bark, a smirk resting on her face. Oberon hummed. He scratched his chin, ‘deep in thought’. In this moment, he took the time to hop aboard a fallen tree log that Paz had not previously noticed.

“..... None. I’ll eat it.”

“Oh pl-” Paz wrapped her pointer’s knuckle against the ‘bark’. It produced a hollow... Clanking noise. Paz spun, eyes now flashing all over the tree’s trunk. She found a frankly rigid root sticking out near the base. “Lever?”

“I don’t think ‘plever’ is a word.” Oberon’s joy at Paz’s groan was palpable. She still stooped down and plunged her hands into the strangely loose dirt. Paz pulled up. Her feet pushed into the ground before the darn lever- probably stuck from years of disuse- finally creaked up.

“Hey! It opened a hatch over here!” Oberon leaped off of his position atop the fallen tree. He landed on the other side. Paz snapped forth, using momentum to slam into the tree and propel herself over it. Oberon was looking down into the depths of a small square opening in the ground. His hands were fidgeting, blacks of his eyes shrunk down to pinpricks. “... I.... But is-...?” His eyes found Paz. His mouth moved silently.

Paz stepped up, sitting down on her knees to see what was in the square opening.

She froze in place.

A leather-bound book, with a six-fingered golden hand glued on the front. A letter ‘three’ emblazoned the thing, burning bright against the dingy red book’s background. The space had a few spider webs on every side, trying to encroach on the slowly-eroding book.

Paz reached in. Her mind was blank. She needed that book. They needed that book. It- it was important. She couldn’t even figure out why- just that it was. Her hands were wrapped around the book’s casing. The book was out of the hole. Her brother was just as silent as she.

“.... Jour-...” Oberon went silent for a moment. “..... Journal Three....?” Paz tried to speak. Her mouth moved, but no words exited her lips.

“.... I-... Y-... What?...” The words were gone. What had her brother said.... What had she said? The two stared at the book in silence. This object... It was important. But WHY was it important? Why did they care? It was just a book- one among a billion.

Paz flipped the thing open. She skimmed through the pages for a moment, eyebrows creasing down with each additional page.

“TRUST NO ONE.” Paz’s eyes froze on that page. Oberon breathed in sharply behind her.

The book was snapped closed.

“We need to get out of here.” Something swished by nearby. Oberon and Paz took off running.

{<>}

The burning rage of the sun was nullified. Paz took another lick of her popsicle. She kept one eye out the strange red-tinted window. The window itself had a strange pattern- a triangle with an eye in the center. Paz knew there were eyes on her. Eyes she couldn’t see. Either that or she was paranoid.

Hopefully the eyes thing.

There were small creatures outside. They looked almost like lawn gnomes, stealing into the garbage cans of the shack and snacking on what they could. Paz passively took another lick of her popsicle.

“.. Bro, look outside and tell me what you see....” Paz tried to keep her voice calm. It came out flimsy and half-dead.

“.... I- see tiny men?...” Oberon put the Journal down, staring outside for a few moments before snatching the journal up again. “Tiny men- tiny men- gnomes!” Oberon turned the Journal around, showing the page to Paz. She speedily read the entry, noting the ‘steal sacrifice for queen’ and ‘nibbling’. So... More dangerous than racoons, but basically sentient racoons.

“.... We should probably get rid of them.” That was all that needed to be said. Paz and Oberon silently got up from the small couch-cut out in the wall, sneaking out of the cabin for the second time that day. Paz managed to smash her foot into the fallen leafblower when she got outside.

“Holysonova…” The gnomes that had been sneaking portions of food from the garbage all stared at the two newcomers. They had abandoned their food. Paz noticed that... Their eyes... Were all on her.

“.... Queeeeeen….” She heard that whisper. It sent a chill down her spine. “.... Queeeen…” There it was again. Two gnomes had murmured it. “.... Queen....” It was getting louder. Oberon took a step forward, moving Paz aside.

“No.”

“Queen!” The gnomes all leapt forward. Oberon was buried under a pile of gnomes.

“HEY!-” Paz attempted to punch the crap out of them, smashing projectile gnomes to the ground left and right. The darn things just attacked faster. She found herself being overwhelmed far too quickly for her liking. Ropes were tied taught over her arms, locking her down as more gnomes piled on. “-MMMPH!!!!”

“LEAVE. HER. ALONE!!!” There was a noise- several gnomes grunted in pain after wind. Tiny hands smacked against Paz’s back and legs. She tried to move, but the ropes were everywhere now. Her brother shouted something again, but his voice was already faint. Paz tried to struggle, but to no avail.

“Queen! Queen!”

“OVER MY DEAD BODY TINY DEMONS!”

{<>}

Oberon’s fists clenched. He was bruised and scratched, one arm suffering a fair number of bites from the tiny monsters that attacked him and his sister. He could just barely hear the far-off voice of her screaming at the gnomes in anger. Oberon stomped back to the shack, his eyes latching on to a cart nearby. He couldn’t outrun the gnomes when there were that many... But if he had the cart....

Oberon marched over. He went to step inside, only to remember something crucial. Keys.

“Hey, takin’ the cart for a joyride?” He was stopped by a red-haired teenager in a flannel jacket. She had freckles and long jeans, stopped only by a set of army boots. Some strange Russian-style hat rested on her head. “Knock yourself out!” She tossed Oberon the keys before he could reply.

“Thank you!” He jammed the keys into the ignition faster than light. He was pleasantly surprised to find that he was at least tall enough to reach the gas and break pedal, as well as the steering wheel. Oberon shoved the cart into drive. He gunned the engine.

“Dude, wait!” He was stopped again. This time, a pudgy man with a muddy-green t-shirt had stopped him. He was at least five feet tall, if not six. The slight stubble on his face hinted to his age, and the hat on his head was blank. A pair of khaki shorts coated his waist, and two brown loafers protected his feet. “In case of werewolves!” He held out a shovel.

Oberon blinked. He took the item. He needed to get out of here- to save his sister!- And another item was held out to him.

“In case of piñatas.” It... Was a bat. Oberon took the bat. The man stepped back. “Good luck dude!”

“... Thanks?” And he smashed the gas into the floor. Oberon followed the screams of his sister, one hand wrapping tighter and tighter around the shovel’s handle. The scenery blurred and swirled together the faster he went. The cart nearly toppled over as he found it swiveling down a mountainside. Oberon narrowed his eyes.

His sister was in danger.

Everything became a blur after that, racing across the mountains of Gravity Falls with the rumble of the cart. He followed his sister’s annoyed yells, easily recognizing the voice. Several minutes of tracking in this order led him to a strange section of the woods.

The cart suddenly slid down into a hidden cavern. Oberon yelped, slamming his foot into the brake. The cart screeched to a stop, only to unveil a very... Distressing scene.

Paz was roped down to the ground, still struggling profusely against her bonds. Several gnomes were trying to keep her down. Their pointy hats wavered with each of her escape attempts. The surrounding cave system was filled to the brim with mushrooms, glimmering little flies, and glittery green moss. Gnomes were absolutely EVERYWHERE.

The lead gnome- presumably- glanced Oberon’s way. He then smiled and spun to fully face the newcomer. He had a brown beard, and sparkling blue eyes that were half-obscured by a pointy red hat.

“Hi! I’m Jeff, have you come for the wedding ceremony?” The gnome had a standard gnome outfit- overalls and a t-shirt of sorts. His tiny shoes looked very breakable.

Oberon’s brain stopped.

“The what.”

“The wedding ceremony! You see, we’re making this lovely girl here our queen!” Jeff beamed. Oberon’s mouth dropped open. One eye twitched. “She’ll be marrying all 1,000 of us, isn’t that just awesome?”

Jeff was plastered against a mushroom before he could utter another syllable. A number of gnomes were sent flying into the rock walls with a single leaping swipe. Another slash of metal freed Paz.

“GET AWAY FROM MY SISTER YOU CREEPS!” Paz and Oberon were hand-in-hand within seconds. Paz leaped up, chasing her brother as he led them to the cart. The cart’s reverse was activated the moment their butts hit the cushions.

A gnome launched at them. A wooden bat slapped it away with ferocious accuracy.

“GET AWAY YOU FRICKS!!!” Oberon spun the cart around. The two slashed into the sunlight. The sun was beginning to dim. Paz was smacking away a few gnomes that dared to follow them. “..... Hol- BRO SPEED UP!!!” Oberon didn’t dare look back. He gripped the shovel- which he still had yet to let go of- tighter.

Paz yelped. She smashed into the cart’s seat. Wood flew. Several gnomes tore into the roof. More gnomes cried out as they were smashed away.

“WATCH OUT!” Paz’s scream snapped Oberon out of his adrenaline-fueled stupor. A tree was crashing down ahead. He pulled the steering wheel harshly to the right. The cart left the ground.

Paz and Oberon screamed in unison.

The cart- amazingly- bounced off the ground. It landed on the next fall. Oberon thought his teeth were going to smash clear into his skull. The gas pedal was nailed into the floor. The cart’s engine squealed.

“SO CYCLOPS-!” A gnome’s yelp interrupted her.

“SCHMEBULOCK!!!!” One gnome went tumbling by. Oberon tried to focus more on the road. A gnome’s body appeared out of nowhere on his arm. It bit down. He cried out. The gnome’s skull collided with wood.

“LEAVE MY BRO ALONE!”

He could see the shack. It was just out of sight. A sign of familiarity and home. Oberon cut through the tree line. The cart careened over sticks and stones. The materials kicked up and back. Some hideous, malformed roar followed him. Oberon knew his heart had never beat this fast in his life. The cart’s wheels caught on something.

Oberon and Paz went soaring. They crashed into the ground. Oberon bit on dirt. It coated his tongue. Brittle and harsh. Paz landed beside him, the bat now resting on her head. Oberon knew the shovel had landed on top of his legs. They would be bruised in the morning, easily.

He growled. That same ungodly roar echoed him. He stood up slowly. The shovel became a support. It held him upright. He glared down the strange beast that had followed them through the woods.

It was a giant gnome... Made of gnomes. Had he not been fearful for his life, the sight would have been amazing. Oberon tugged the shovel upwards. He brandished it, glaring down the pointy monstrosity. It was easily twenty feet tall, made of beings that were barely two.

“You’re not touching her.” Paz’s hand gently tugged his sleeve. She was glancing every few seconds to the leaf blower from earlier. She had scratches all up and down her face, and one gash at her cheek.

“I’ll marry you.” Paz’s words completely froze Oberon’s brain. He tried to fit it all together.- Leaf blower, gnome monster... It was so... Unique. But it was there. A niggling idea. A thought that nuzzled only to run away.

“R- really? You will?- Oh this is great- guys let me get down there!” The summer sun was opposing the shack, sending a bloody red glare over the gnome monstrosity. “Sorry Carl- is that a growth Steve- move aside, Paul!” The leg opened up, gnomes parting to reveal the leader from earlier- Jeff. Oberon silently glared at the accursed gnome, trying with everything in him not to gnash his teeth.

“Of course.” Paz extended her hand gently. She took a step to the side, kneeling so that she could be at the gnome’s height- or at least closer to it. Jeff pulled out a box from his back, opening it to reveal a gold ring encrusted with green gems. Paz extended one finger. Jeff slipped the ring on.

“I-!” Paz cast him a look. She was planning something. Oberon finally put it together. Paz’s free arm- her left- extended back. It flipped the switch to the leaf blower. The engine roared to life. Paz sprung back, hands clasping the instrument and targeting Jeff instantly.

Jeff was sucked in.

His form slipped up the mouth of the leaf blower, until only his face and cap remained.

“Guess what.” Paz smirked down to the gnome as he yelped in pain. “.... I ain’t that kind of girl.” Paz swung the reverse back to normal. The leaf blower was tilted up. Jeff shot like a rocket. He crashed into the giant gnome-construct, exploding it on impact. Gnomes rained from the sky, yelping and scurrying around in a blind panic.

Paz slid over to Oberon with a laugh. It was airy, filled with terror and adrenaline.

“I am so surprised that worked.” The gnomes began fleeing for the trees. “SEE YA’LL ON YOUR GRAVES!” Several screamed in panic. Paz snickered, her grin mischievous and dark. “Okay, that was fu-”

“You’ll never stop us all!” Jeff tried to command. He had a large bruise that was quickly swelling on his cheek. “We’ll come back in bigger numbers-!”

The leaf blower swung his way, and Jeff went tumbling to the tree line.

“Can’t hear you over the sounds of yoUR DESTRUCTION!” Paz laughed openly, shaking her head at the gnomes as they raced away in a blind sprint. She came down from the laughing high the instant the gnomes were gone, a few giggles escaping her. “.... Return of the googly eye~...” Paz hit the off switch.

“.... You’re still crazy.” Oberon smiled faintly. He felt so tired- all the running and screaming was a real drain.

“And you’re still male, what else is new?” Paz moved, crossing the short distance between them to rest her elbow on his arm. “.... Holy...” She staggered, as if just then being smacked with the energy differential. “.... We should probably... Sleep soon.” Oberon chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah.” Paz opened her arms, dropping the leaf blower to face her brother.

“.... Hug?”

“... Yeah.” The two siblings gently embraced one another. It was stiff and awkward on Paz’s end, but Oberon embraced her warmly.

“Love you, bro..”

“Love you too, Paz.”

{<>}

“Wow, you two look wrecked!” Grunkle Stan grinned, pausing only when he noticed how bedraggled the two truly were. Paz honestly felt like she was about to drop through the floor. She kept her head at a decent level. Paz and Oberon trudged by Grunkle Stan.

Of course the old coot was counting money. Based on his earlier conversations, it made sense.

“... Hey kids!” The two stopped. If it was another task, Paz wasn’t sure she would be happy. Already ne eyebrow was twitching down at the very concept of another chore today. “... Wouldn’t you know it, I overstocked the gift shop- why don’t you two take a lil’ something?” Paz slowly let her body turn on a dime, eyes half-dead and set on the old man.

He shrugged, closing his eyes as he somehow continued counting money.

“Look- just take something before I regret it.” Paz didn’t need to be told twice. She silently trekked through the gift shop, eyes half-hazed from exhaustion. Her fingers wrapped around the cold metal of an item. It seemed almost like a gun, but there was no way Grunkle Stan would have a gun in his shop, right?

Paz let her eyes focus blearily. Resting in her hands was-....

Something familiar.

Something unique.

Something that tugged at her mind.

But why, she had no idea.

“... You sure you don’t want something else? There are plenty of dolls for girls in the shop.”

“...…. No. It needs to be this.”

She couldn’t explain it.

It made no sense.

But she knew it was necessary....

.... One day....

[tricous]

i got distracted for a fucking second and. this happened

tybalt: ur not hot so im beating you up first

romeo: wh

juliette: finally some good fucking food

oberon: so. shane dawson and jefree star collaborate on launching a new palette. on scale of “very” to “really” how racist yall think it will be

puck: i almost got my first kiss : (

[scp-60053]

wh... why do the naberus armor pieces curve around oberons arm in game. like in the orbiter they dont but in missions they do????

[jbankai89]

Do You Believe In Fairies? [9/11]

Chapter Nine – Truth

 Absolute silence filled the Court.

You lose.

The words echoed in Yuri's mind. He felt his knees wobble dangerously, and only Otabek's arm at his waist held him upright.

They had lost.

How could they have lost?

Should I win, I will take your Fae life and magick from you. You and yours will be banished from the Court, live out a mortal life, and die with your humans.

Yuri felt sick.

Remembering belatedly where he was, Yuri looked around the Court with wide, terrified eyes. Everyone that he had ever known looked on with mingled looks of shock and horror of their own, but Yuri knew better than to beseech them for help—no one was stupid or brave enough to stand against Viktor.

The horror-struck looks were mirrored on every face, except those of the kings, both of whom were smiling victoriously at Yuri, Otabek, and Guang-Hong.

Viktor took a purposeful step forward. Otabek immediately backed up and dragged Yuri with him. Yuri could feel his own body shaking, but at the same time he felt strangely disconnected from it, as though he were watching the scene, and not a part of it.

“I have won your challenge, Yuri, Fae Prince of the Plisetsky clan,” Viktor proclaimed, his voice strong, and carried to every corner of the Court, ensuring that none of the spectators missed even a syllable of his victory over Yuri. “In accordance with our agreement, I take from you now your magick and your immortal life. Furthermore, I banish you and yours forthwith from our realm...never to return.”

“N-No, K-King Oberon, please...” Yuri's voice escaped him as little more than a weakened, feeble plea, one which did not even cause Viktor to hesitate as he laid his hands upon either side of Yuri's head, and he twined his fingers through Yuri's hair. He offered Yuri one small smile, though Yuri could not tell whether it was meant to be one of triumph, or some sort of mocking false sympathy. Yuri felt Viktor's fingers press to his scalp, and he inhaled sharply as he braced himself for pain.

Yuri had always been told that losing one's magick was like the wort pain imaginable, multiplied tenfold.

And yet, somehow, it was infinitely worse.

Like skin being ripped from bone, or being set aflame, every part of him was in agony. He could feel hot tears on his cheeks as he lost his connections to the elements—he could not feel earth's sure footsteps, fire's intensity, water's ebb and flow, or air's gusts of life breathing into him. He could not feel the spirit's presence that surrounded her Fae kin; the Goddess of the Moon and the Horned God of the Sun turned their backs on him as the pain became truly unbearable, and blackness flooded his mind as he fainted.

 ~*~

 The soft sound of crackling and popping filled Yuri's mind.

Black, but warm, and the sound was strangely comforting. He felt a soft warm weight resting over his body, but nothing else.

His connection to his magick was not there, and Yuri shivered a little at the pain of this loss, like the death of a friend.

Yuri's eyelids, heavy, slowly slid open.

Before him was a rustic, aged fireplace, with a dying fire in the grate. Yuri glanced down and saw that a heavy fur blanket had been draped over him. His head was propped up slightly on not a pillow, but a thigh, and he glanced up to see Otabek sitting up, but his head was tilted to the side, and he seemed to be fast asleep. Guang-Hong was curled up nearer to the fire with a blanket of his own, as though he both wished to give Yuri and Otabek their privacy, but longed to be close to them at the same time.

Yuri looked around the space, but remained as still as he could. He was uncertain where he was or how they'd gotten there, but it seemed to be a peasant home of some kind. It was homey, comfortable, and felt strangely familiar...

I'm in Otabek's home, Yuri thought with a sudden jolt. But how did I get here?

Yuri shifted slightly, and the small movement was enough to rouse Otabek. His eyes snapped open, and one of his hands fell to pet Yuri's hair gently.

“How do you feel, Yuri?” he asked softly, and Yuri immediately shut his eyes again. The softly spoken question brought everything rushing back, and he lifted a hand to rest it over his heart.

I'm dying.

The realization hit him like a blow to the chest, and he shuddered as anguished tears stung his eyes. Otabek did not hesitate, and drew Yuri into his arms. Yuri clung to him, his face buried in the crook of his neck, and Otabek did not speak as he held Yuri and he wept, his sobs soft and almost unheard in his effort to keep from rousing Guang-Hong.

“I can't feel anything...” Yuri mumbled into Otabek's shoulder, and clung to him harder. “How—how do you stand this? This disconnect from the Gods...how...” Yuri sniffed again, and Otabek rubbed his back gently.

“It's okay, just don't think about it...” Otabek murmured as he rocked him, childlike, and kissed his cheek. “I know it's hard, but it's not so bad, having a human life...”

“But, Otabek, I'm dying...”

“Wh-what?”

“I may have as little as fifty years left.”

Yuri hadn't been joking, and the prospect of such a short span utterly terrified him, but his proclamation made Otabek chuckle. He shifted, urging Yuri to look up at him, and he kissed him tenderly. Yuri returned it, though he couldn't quite see what was so funny about what he had said.

“Oh, Yuri,” Otabek whispered, his voice still laced with amusement, and the corner of his mouth twitched as though he was trying not to laugh. “Fifty years to a human is longer than you think. Maybe not as long as eternity, but certainly long enough to live a full life.”

“It doesn't feel like it,” Yuri mumbled, “and when I die, what comes after? I...I never had to worry about death before. Where will I go? Will you go there too?”

“No one knows,” Otabek replied as he moved to kiss Yuri's temple gently. “Some believe nothing comes after and we just...cease to exist. Others believe that our souls are transported to a paradise, or eternal torment, depending on what sort of life you led. Others still think of it as a halfway place between one life and the next.”

“I don't find that very reassuring...” Yuri pulled back from Otabek and stood up. His bones creaked and groaned unpleasantly. His back twinged with pain. It was sharper than any pain he had ever experienced before; it felt more real, now that he was mortal. Yuri began to pace before the dying fire, but the action quickly made him dizzy, and he sat back down with a soft huff. Yuri drew his knees to his chest, and stared at the glowing embers in the hearth.

Warm arms encircled him from behind, and Yuri watched as Otabek's legs gently bracketed his own. He leant back in the welcome embrace and closed his eyes.

Even with my life falling apart around me, he still finds a way to catch me.

“Tell me what you need, Yuri,” Otabek murmured, and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his throat. “Whatever you need to smile again, I will do it. Immortal or mortal, I still love you.”

The words were strong and unwavering in their certainty. Yuri found some comfort in that; the knowledge that Otabek still cared for him was reassuring, but still left him feeling incomplete and strangely hollow. To his statement, Yuri had no idea what to say, and for a long moment he was quiet, one hand curled around Otabek's wrist, begging him to stay with him.

“I need time, I think,” Yuri said at last, and nearly laughed out loud at the ridiculous irony of the statement. “I need to accustom myself to this life, and find my place in it, whatever that might be.”

Otabek's arms tensed around him, and his lips ghosted over the hollow of Yuri's throat.

“I will wait for you.”

 ~*~

 After Yuri's little outburst when he'd first woken up after losing his magick, he felt painfully cut off from the world he loved so much. He could not call the elements to him, or contact the sprites, he could not dance on moonbeams or rejuvenate dying flora, he could access none of his magick.

He knew that Guang-Hong was experiencing something similar, but given that he bore no power like the Fae did, his pain was different. Yuri saw him gazing towards the edges of town with a homesick longing, and more than once he and Yuri had embraced each other and wept at the horrible loss of their home.

Most perplexing to Yuri was how short a day was for a human, and they spent so much of it sleeping. A Fae needed an hour or two at most in the twilight or predawn hours to properly rest themselves, while others rarely bothered with sleep at all, and instead built it up until they would lie down and sleep for a decade or two in peace.

To sleep for seven to ten hours, every night, without fail, was utterly baffling to Yuri. When Yuri had chosen to share this finding with Otabek, he was met with amused laughter, and Yuri frowned at him.

“Oh, don't be a sourpuss,” Otabek said gently as he stole a kiss, “I think it's cute, I'm not laughing at you.”

“Yes you are,” Yuri countered sulkily as he shifted closer to the wall and away from Otabek in their narrow bed. “You are laughing at something I said. Generally, that means you're laughing at me.”

“Yes, but not to make fun of you, I am laughing because I find your learning of our simple human ways to be endearing, not because I think you are a fool.”

“I feel like a fool,” Yuri mumbled, “I know so little of human life, I didn't even know how much humans sleep.”

“Do you know how long bears sleep?”

Yuri blinked.

“I have no idea,” Yuri replied as he stared with confusion at Otabek. “Why?”

“They sleep all through the winter, and wake with the spring.”

“Fascinating.”

“Do you feel foolish for not knowing that particular fact?” Otabek asked innocently as he reached for Yuri, and twined his fingers with the blond's.

“Not really, no,” Yuri replied with a vague shrug.

“Then don't feel foolish,” Otabek said with a gentle firmness in his voice. “This is a whole new culture for you, and I have a lifetime to teach you all about the idiosyncrasies of human life.”

Yuri smiled a little, and felt some of his embarrassment leave him. He shifted back to Otabek, and smiled warmly at the gentle, familiar weight of the human's—fellow human's, he reminded himself—arm as it settled across his hips. He cuddled close to him, and tried to sleep.

 The days passed slowly for Yuri, and with each rising and setting of the sun, he swore to explore this human life beyond his connection to Otabek, but he could never quite manage it. Guang-Hong seemed happy to explore and spent many days in the village square and at the market. Sometimes he went with Otabek, or Yuri, or both, and other times he went alone, but he seemed to be acclimating to human life once more as though he'd never left it.

Yuri found it more difficult to find a place that could potentially be his. It had barely been half a week, and already he was longing for the lush greenery of the Fae Court. He'd entertained the notion of leaving for Otabek once upon a time, but to be banished was infinitely worse.

He wanted to go home.

 ~*~

 A few days later, Yuri found himself gazing upon a familiar sight.

Overall, the flatlands looked no different to his mortal eyes, but Yuri could not see the magick of the wood. It was without aura or power—he could feel none of it. This knowledge further proved that all his magick was gone, and there was no hope of recovering it.

Yuri stopped upon the absolute edge of the forest and did not dare go any further. He may have been prince by blood, but now as nothing more than a human—Viktor and Yuuri could ensnare him if they wished, dragging him back to the fold, but enchanted and at their mercy.

He'd sooner hack off his own leg than allow himself to be subjugated like that.

Yuri's hand hovered over the edges of the trees, trying to feel the magick that he knew was there, while not quite having the nerve to touch them. Quite suddenly the lush foliage rustled, and Yuri jumped backward with a sharp gasp of alarm.

Out from the trees walked a lynx. A proud tom, with lush fur and sharp, keen eyes. It sat down and regarded Yuri in silence. To any human, such an action by a wild animal would be startling, maybe even frightening, but Yuri found himself wholly unafraid. This was atypical behaviour for a Fae inhabiting the form of an animal. Yuri was on his guard, but felt no fear as he regarded it. After a moment of silence, it opened its mouth and spoke.

“Hello, Yuri,” it said in a voice that Yuri recognized at once, and one that he had not heard in many, many years.

“G-Grandpa?” Yuri asked, his eyes widening as he took a quick, startled step back. The house of Plisetsky was known for its affinity with cats, something the houses of Nikiforov and Katsuki did not share. If this were a trick from one of them, he knew it would have come in the form of a wolf or fox, not a feline. That alone told him that it was very unlikely to be a trick of some kind. “I...but how? The present king laid claim to the throne and banished you to the Grey Twilight. You should not be here.”

“I haven't long on this plain of existence,” the lynx said, “it is my time to join with the Spirit, become one with the God and Goddess, and take my place amongst them once more.”

“Why have you come?” Yuri asked, “it takes great power to assume such a form after banishment.”

“I must speak to you,” he said in his even, gentle tone that Yuri had always known, but there was a note of urgency to his voice that was impossible to miss. “I have watched over you, unable to interfere directly, ever since Viktor took the throne from me. I have done what I can to protect you, and swayed his decisions when I could—not an easy feat, for he is strong, and I am weakened in this state. But I must tell you that it was I who forced his hand to banish you with your lover and your friend by your side, and not he himself who made that choice.”

“You?” Yuri asked, his voice dropping to a horrified whisper. “But...why? Why would you condemn me to this life?”

“You must think hard on who Viktor is, and what he is capable of,” Nikolai said seriously. “He is a brutal king, the most vindictive we have seen in many millennia. He does not understand compassion, nor living in harmony with the humans. That arrogance and disregard for mortal life will one day be his undoing. Until then, I strove to protect you. Had I not, Viktor was intending to banish you as he had me, reduce you to little more than a spirit, only able to observe, never to watch, or touch. It is as close as we Fae come to a true death. He had many plans for your humans, in particular young Otabek. You know how intoxicating his seductions can be, your lover would have no hope of fighting it.

“Instead I chose to use what little power I still possess, and sway his decision. Like an advisor whispering in his ear, I laid the implication in his mind that to banish you, mortal, with your humans was a perfect punishment. In such a state you would die while he lives, but pose no threat to his position as king.”

The lynx bowed its head.

“I am sorry that I have done this to you, my grandson,” he said sadly. “I saw no alternative to save you and your loved ones. I have given you one life, a mortal life, but so too have I given you someone to spend it with, someone who cares for you as much, if not more, than I ever did. Otabek loves you with all his heart, and I foresee only purity in his love. He will never hurt you.”

“You have seen this?” Yuri asked, and the lynx nodded its head.

“I have. To gaze into the future can be most unwise, but I have done so. If you stay in the village, your life will be hard at first, but in time, you will know joy. It is your Otabek who can give it to you. Do not abandon him; he needs you as much as you need him. You two are two halves of a whole; made for each other, be it mortal or immortal, you two must never be parted. That way lies only sorrow and grief. I have taken your immortal life, yes, but I have given you something greater, something few people, Fae or Human, can lay claim to—true love.”

Yuri felt hot tears on his cheeks, but for once, they were tears of joy, not sadness.

It was still difficult to see past his own anguish to feel a sense of gratitude for his grandfather's interference. He meant well, and he had taken away something of Yuri's, something he did not know he would miss until it was gone, but he was given something much greater in the process—Otabek.

“Thank you, Grandpa,” Yuri said, his voice shaking a little as he stepped forward and stroked the lynx gently. “You have given me something infinitely precious, and I will be forever grateful for it.” He paused, and pressed a kiss to the top of the cat's head. “Go now, be at peace.”

The lynx bowed its head, and a gentle breeze kicked up around them. It tousled Yuri's hair, and lifted the lynx's fur gently. Yuri watched silently as the image of the lynx dissolved into glimmering dust, like starlight, and was carried away on the wind.

“Live with love, my grandson.”

The voice floated back to him, and Yuri angled his gaze skyward.

“I will, Grandfather.”

Yuri stared at the spot his grandfather had sat for a long moment before he moved slowly and reluctantly to the riverside, crouched down, and splashed the cool water on his face. The action both helped to calm him and aided in masking some of the evidence that he had been crying. He did not wish to be questioned by Guang-Hong or Otabek—it was not that he wished to lie to them in the strictest sense, but this time, Yuri wanted to keep this particular encounter to himself. Perhaps one day he'd tell Otabek, but for now he would keep this last memory of Nikolai Plisetsky close to his heart.

 After he was fairly certain that he did not look like he'd been out on his own wallowing in the loss of his immortality, he stood up with a renewed sense of purpose. Yuri turned and headed back towards the town with one goal in mind—

He needed to find Otabek.

 ~*~

 It did not take Yuri very long to make it back to the Altin forge, and even at a distance he could see Matyash before the fire, red sparks flying as he pounded upon some sort of red-hot metal. He did not even look up as Yuri passed and made for the house. Indeed, since the family had awoken that first morning, only Otabek's mother, Olga, seemed comfortable enough to speak to him. His younger sisters and father appeared too dazzled by his presence to say so much as two words to him, but he supposed that that would change in time.

“Mrs Altin,” Yuri said with a short bow as he stepped inside and spotted her chopping vegetables for lunch. She smiled at him warmly and waved him off.

“Please, call me Olga, dear boy. Such formality is unnecessary,” she said with a warm smile. “Are you looking for my son?” Yuri nodded, and she chuckled. “I assumed as much. He made mention of going with your friend, Guang-Hong, into town. I believe they were headed for the village square—there is a bookshop there that I swear that boy spends half his life in.”

“Thank you Mrs—Olga,” he corrected himself, and jerked forward a little as he curbed his impulse to bow again. She offered him another smile and waved vaguely towards the door in a move that clearly said, go on.

Yuri accepted this bit of silent advice, and hastened towards the door and back outside.

So close to noon, the square was teeming with people, all of whom seemed to slow down and watch Yuri for a moment before going about their business once more.

Yuri knew that they did not know what he once was. Otabek had been convinced that there would be pandemonium if it got out that he was formerly Fae, and thus had instructed his family to be silent on the details of Yuri's origins. The looks of the townspeople, Yuri assumed, were derived not from any sort of wild rumour, but simply from the fact that he was a stranger. This was not a large town by any means, a place where obviously everyone knew everyone, and so a strange face would invariably stand out amongst the crowds.

Ignoring it as best he could, Yuri crossed the square to a little shop called Smith Books, with a display of dusty volumes stacked haphazardly in the window. Just as he reached it, Otabek and Guang-Hong stepped out, surprisingly with no purchases in hand.

“Yuri!” Otabek cried as he spotted him, and hurried over to him. “You're back.”

“I am,” Yuri replied, and leant in to kiss him. Otabek immediately returned it, while both ignored the soft gasps and hissing whispers of the villagers who spotted them. At this, Otabek let out a soft groan.

“Did I do something wrong?” Yuri asked, careful to keep his voice low, but he smiled when he felt one of Otabek's arms wrap around his waist, and his palm pressed firmly into his spine.

“No,” he replied, “it's just that the scandal of seeing me with a stranger when it's common knowledge that the prince of our land has been courting me for months will create a ridiculous stir, and likely he will wish to come and see for himself who has ensnared me, to use his sort of phrasing.”

“Will you be punished for it?” Yuri asked as his arms reached out to mirror Otabek's, and he wrapped them securely around the other man's waist, drawing him a little closer.

“No,” Otabek replied with a small chuckle. “We were not officially courting, so it's not like I was being unfaithful to him. Mostly, he would buy lavish gifts for me in an effort to win my affections, and every time he tried to court me in a more official manner, I would turn him down.”

“I'm glad you did,” Yuri purred, and leant in for another kiss. “I'm not willing to share you.” Yuri smiled when Otabek flushed an attractive red, and he could not help but kiss him again. “Come for a walk with me? I wish to speak to you where we won't be overheard.”

“Of course,” Otabek said at once, then turned to Guang-Hong, his expression apparently caught in how to dismiss him politely, but the former Companion got there first.

“I will see you two back at the house, I will let Olga know where you have gone,” he said with a short bow to Yuri, and he did not bother to correct him. It would be a learning curve for both of them, now that they were equals.

When Guang-Hong walked off, Yuri moved to take one of Otabek's hands. The man seemed happy to allow Yuri to lead, and followed the blond through the square and out of the borders of the village, but nowhere near the forest. Yuri would have liked to have done this where they had first met, but the danger of being caught by his former kin was too great, and Yuri refused to risk it. Instead, he slowed to a stop by the river, and took both of Otabek's hands in his own.

“Otabek,” Yuri began, “I know that these last days I've been...somewhat selfish. I've lamented over my loss of my eternal life, and I have been so busy mourning over what I no longer have that I did not stop to look at what I still have.” Yuri paused, and lifted his gaze to Otabek's dark eyes. His head was cocked ever so slightly to the side as he listened, his expression curious as he silently motioned for Yuri to continue. “My life is not as empty as I first assumed, now that I do not have years beyond count to watch the world grow old. I have so much—more than I thought I had.

“I have one life now, and there are many ways I could spend it,” Yuri continued, his eyes dropping to their intertwined hands for a moment before he returned his gaze to meet Otabek's. “Just one life to live,” he repeated, “if I were to spend it with anyone, I'd choose to spend it with you...if you like.”

Otabek's lips parted in quiet surprise, and Yuri watched spots of colour appear high upon his cheeks as Yuri dropped to one knee, their hands still clasped together.

“Otabek, will you...” Yuri dug into his memory for the human word, “...will you marry me?”

Otabek blinked his eyes a few times in quick succession as they grew shiny, and a warm smile spread across his face. He tugged Yuri to his feet without a word, and kissed him tenderly.

“As if I'd ever say no,” he murmured against Yuri's mouth, and they both laughed softly, with tears of joy as their lips met again in another kiss.

Perhaps a mortal life wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

A/N: If you like my work, please consider throwing a few bucks into my Digital Tip Jar. I am a starving artist, and I like not actually starving to death :P

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